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luv4fushi · 11 months ago

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omfg i litr read everything uve written off ur masterlist I NEED MOREEEE. i love the way u write megumi especially, i couldn’t get enough of it. i hope you write more of him, my heart aches for more tbh 🥹 tysm for being such a good writer and feeding us starved readers well

tysm! i'm sooo glad i can be a good source of megumi content for you >_< i looove writing megumi so you'll be seeing sooo much more of him, dw! happy holidays!

this december

jjk fushiguro megumi x fem!reader

it’s always colder on your own, especially around this time of year. you should be at home, bundled up with a warm cup of hot chocolate, but here you are in shinjuku, exorcizing curses with your ex boyfriend two weeks after your breakup with him. great.

content: post break up, aged up megumi (19/20), megumi is terrible at feelings, getting back together, fluff if you squint, a bit of angst, miscommunication, one bed (but it isn’t the main plot point sorry), megumi calls you baby like once, gojo is the best wingman, SHIBUYA ARC NEVER HAPPENED AND LIFE IS GOOD, not proofread im very sorry guys pls forgive me, kinda a word dump sry

word count: 5.8k (sigh this was supposed to be 2k words max)

click on my masterlist for more & merry christmas to those who celebrate!

it’s december 19th when satoru gojo tells you that he has a mission just for you. you’re less than ecstatic about it to say the least. the last thing you want to do is be sent to your death just shy of christmas day. you just want to rest your sore muscles and bask in the presence of your best friends. you’re not in the mood to kill any curses, mainly because you’ve just recovered from a previous mission.

“why me?” you groan.

gone are the days where you used to be a goody two shoes for satoru. you’re old enough to talk back now, not like when you had been a shy fifteen-year-old girl. besides, you’ve been around the silver-haired sorcerer long enough to know that he doesn’t mind the bite.

“sorry, kid,” satoru says with a shrug. at least he sounds genuine about it. “the higher ups requested for you specifically. they say you’ll get the job done in the cleanest way. we can’t have things getting messy before the holidays, right?”

“and you wouldn’t be the best choice?” you quip.

satoru only laughs. he ruffles your hair. even with your growth spurt and merciless training, he still towers over you. in a way, he’ll always be your mentor. “hey, i’m going out of town that weekend. give me a break.”

you huff petulantly. something about this mission seems fishy to you. you’re not nearly the strongest sorcerer out of the bunch of kids under satoru’s wings (not that you guys are kids anymore, but sometimes it’s hard to feel otherwise). hell, there’s the kyoto students. it feels like they never have to do anything. you wish that you were rebellious enough to chew utahime out for it.

“why couldn’t they just make yuta or megumi go?” you mutter under your breath. you stammer out megumi’s name and hope satoru doesn’t catch on to the way you can barely say it.

satoru knows about the breakup. why wouldn’t he? he’s basically megumi’s dad, even if the raven haired boy refuses to admit it. satoru’s six eyes mean you can’t hide anything from him (he’d been the first to know that megumi was head over heels for you).

satoru raises a brow. “oh, right. megumi’s coming along too.”

your face twists and you immediately whip around to glare at him. “you’re lying.”

“i wish,” he jokes. “i was really hoping i’d get a wedding invitation one day, you little rascal. i can’t believe you two broke up. maybe this’ll be a good thing!”

“i appreciate your honesty, but—”

“but megumi’s an emotionally constipated kid, yeah, that i know,” satoru laughs. he makes his way to the exit of his office which has you furrowing your brows. is your former teacher actually gonna just leave after making you come all the way here? how rude and so very in character of him.

“please, gojo,” you call out after him, “i don’t wanna go with him.”

“sucks for you,” satoru responds halfheartedly. “merry christmas. try not to take more than a week on this. you’ll have to pay the rest of the fee for accommodations if you do.”

“gojo!” you whine.

“it’s not a hard mission!” satoru insists like it’ll make your life any easier. “y’know, this time of year is when things get ugly. think of it as saving as many people as you can while putting in the least amount of effort!”

and then he teleports. your former teacher teleports away rather than being normal and walking out of the door. you roll your eyes and hope that he can sense it (you know he can’t).

so that’s why you’re here now. with your ex. on the elevator to your assigned room on the tenth floor. you’re so glad that it’s a normal hotel and not a love hotel. lord knows what you’d do if you had checked into a love hotel.

megumi hasn’t spoken a word to you since he broke up with you two weeks ago. it had been in the doorway to your apartment a few days after a particularly rough mission assigned to the both of you—the one you’re still recovering from. he’d pulled you in for a hug, whispering sweet words into your ear. he gave you a look, one of those looks that made him soften his usually sharp eyes.

“i think we should break up.”

and then came the pathetic whimper of yours. he had wiped your tears, even kissed them tenderly, before telling you that it wasn’t your fault—it was his. how cliche.

now as you stand next to him, you want to beat yourself up for not asking for closure. neither of you had explicitly stated that you two were going to be no-contact, but it hurts a lot less to push the idea of forever with megumi away to the back of your mind. besides, you two aren’t confrontational like that. not with each other, anyway.

“need help?” his tone is soft, tender—the tone he reserves specifically for you, the one that tells you he still cares.

you stare down at the luggage at your feet. you’ve always been a chronic overpacker, a habit that megumi knows of by now. he watches you curiously, hands itching at his sides. you can tell that he wants to reach out and grab your suitcase like he always does. he thinks he isn’t obvious, but you can always read through the lines, especially when it’s megumi.

“i’m okay,” you croak out, clearing your throat awkwardly.

the elevator dings and you make your way to your room. as much as you hate to admit it, you’re sort of glad that you and your ex boyfriend are sharing a room. perhaps his’ll be a good way to get closure, though you’re not really sure what closure entails.

what you don’t expect is to unlock the door and be met with a singular bed.

if satoru gojo didn’t have a layer of infinity coating his body (and if he wasn’t the strongest sorcerer alive), you would’ve wrung out his neck.

megumi simply walks into the room, setting his duffel bag down on one of the dressers opposite from the foot of the bed. he doesn’t comment on the lack of double beds, seemingly already aware of the set up.all he does is puff out a weary sigh. you suck in a breath and follow him inside, slipping your shoes off at the entrance.

you lug your suitcase in after you along with your duffel bag and backpack. you stumble forward and megumi’s arm snakes around your waist, steadying you.

“careful,” he mutters, nonchalantly taking your bag off our your shoulders.

it’s a quick series of movements; he swings your bag over his shoulders and places it on the dresser next to the one he’s claimed while guiding you softly to the side of the bed so that you’re not standing in the middle of the doorway.

you scrunch your face, feeling your heart thump against your ribcage. it’s stupid how he still has such a hold on you, even after two weeks of not seeing or talking to him. he’s just so caring, so gentle. it stings, like little the little cuts you get when fighting curses, when you realize that this is something you’ll have to learn how to lose.

“thanks,” you manage to mutter. you don’t trust yourself to say anything else. you know from the way your throat tightens that you’ll be crying soon if you force yourself to talk any more.

“i can take the couch,” megumi says.

it’s that easy with him; he’s a gentleman, so of course he’d take the couch. that’s the way megumi fushiguro is—he offers a solution before you even have the chance to complain. in your year and a half long relationship, that skill of his had been a saving grace.

“no, don’t bother,” you croak. “i’ll book another room.”

“really?” he asks. he stands up a little straighter, awkwardly reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. “i mean, i don’t mind sharing a room with you… we’ve..”

we’ve shared a room countless of times before.

megumi doesn’t have to continue his sentence for you to understand what he’s implying. you part your lips to speak, but nothing comes out except for a long, heavy sigh. your shoulders drop as you let the exhaustion seep into your bones. there’s no use arguing about it, not when you don't’ mind sharing a room with megumi, either.

“we’ve broken up,” you remind him in a quiet voice, like you’re afraid saying it out loud will make it truer than it already is.

megumi pauses. you see his adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly. “i know that, but … it’ll be fine. we’ve shared a room as friends before.”

he’s right, like he usually is. you two have shared a room before as just friends, but that had been as teenagers—back when you both harbored such hardcore crushes on each other that you two somehow didn’t notice.

“right,” you find yourself agreeing with a small nod.

“you should go get ready for bed.” megumi begins grabbing a few or the decorative pillow off of the bed. he places them gingerly on the brown couch tucked in the corner of the hotel room. “we’ll be getting up pretty early to deal with the brunt of the mission.”

to finish this mission as quickly as possible, you think.

and so you oblige and head to the bathroom. it’s december 19th, just a few days shy of christmas day, and you’re in bed with your ex boyfriend on the couch just a few feet away.

december 20th greets you with megumi hovering over you. he peers down at you with his messy bangs covering his eyes. they’re piercingly blue as he blinks. his lashes flutter perfectly, even in the early morning. your eyes meet his and you jolt awake.

“good morning,” he says. “your alarm has been ringing for a bit now, so i turned it off.”

you blink rapidly, getting the tiredness out of your eyes. “oh.”

he chuckles softly, just enough for you to catch it with your ears. he rises from his crouched position and heads to the front door. he spares you a glance over his shoulder before he heads out, presumably giving you the privacy you need. you let out a strangled breath before you swing your legs over the bed and head to the bathroom.

by the time you’re finished putting on your uniform, you swing the door to your hotel room open and see megumi leaned up against the wall, tapping away on his phone. his dark blue eyes flicker up to you and he turns away to head down the hall.

you furrow your brows. you can’t help but think that he’s being a little cold to you. it isn’t like you initiated the breakup. despite your frustration with his behavior, you can sort of understand why he wouldn’t want to be sweet around you; you two aren’t dating anymore and so it makes sense that he’d go back to being aloof in your presence, the usual way he acts around everyone else. losing that position in his life makes your stomach churn for reasons you’re less than willing to uncover.

your mission is a vague one; all you know is that it’s a clean-up mission. rather than a level 1 curse (or even a special grade), the mission consists of an acclimation of weak curses surrounding shinjuku. these missions are normally given to younger, more inexperienced sorcerers with the help of a senior sorcerer, but for an odd reason, it’s been given to you and megumi this year. megumi could’ve probably handled it himself. actually, you could’ve handled it yourself.

you bite your tongue to hold back on your complaints as you walk just a step behind megumi. he pauses regularly, waiting for you to catch up to his side. you roll your eyes in secret. does he not realize that you don’t want to walk next to him?

“it’s all just bars,” you mutter.

with that, you earn a tiny laugh from megumi. “well, yeah. this is the red-light district of shinjuku.”

you pale. “this sucks.”

“why do you think i wanted to come out here in the morning rather than at night?” he says, his tone strangely light.

“to deal with the brunt of the mission,” you repeat his words from last night sarcastically. you’re unsure as to what he’s talking about, so you think that it’s okay to give him a little bit of attitude.

he raises his brow but doesn’t comment on your sarcasm. instead, he says softly, “no, stupid. it’s because this is the red-light district. it’s unsafe for anyone, especially a pretty, young girl alone at night.”

your first thought is to coo and tease him. you think i’m pretty? it takes you half a second to remember that you two are broken up. you scoff, “i’m perfectly capable of handling myself.”

“i never said you weren’t,” megumi shoots back. “it would just be annoying explaining to the higher ups why you were fighting people and not curses.”

“i’m sure they’d understand,” you retort, frowning. you cross your arms.

“don’t be so pouty,” he says in that stupid, gentle tone he uses with you when you’re acting bratty.

you both decide to split up. well, it’s more like you demand the two of you to split up. you say it under the pretense that it’ll get the job done faster. besides, you both want to be home before christmas day, right?

there’s about two curses you cross paths with every hour. you’re starting to lose your mind. shouldn’t the streets be infested with them? you don’t even need a veil! all you have to do is give the weak curses just one punch and they vaporize on the spot. your head is running with hundreds of thoughts.

that’s when it hits you: the first years at the tokyo jujutsu school did come out here a week prior! maybe they did a bad job? but you remember nobara had been the one to lead the group. she may half-ass almost everything in her life, but she wouldn’t jeopardize her underclassmen for the sake of her freetime.

so why on earth are you here? it’s not like there are enough harmful curses for a mission to be assigned to you right before christmas, and to you and megumi of all sorcerers. you’re both strong enough to the point of having some kind of importance in the jujutsu world. the higher ups wouldn’t send the two of you on some stupid mission for the sake of it unless they’re planning some sort of secret execution. but even then, satoru gojo should’ve known through their lies to not send you or megumi. unless…he wants you two dead…?

you shake your head and bite your nails. the sun begins to set and you realize that you’ve been out here for longer than you expected. you’re starting to feel a chill in your bones—you had argued petulantly with megumi earlier about not wanting to wear your jacket despite it being the dead of winter; “it’s gonna get in the way!”

you always seem to forget the the sun sets earlier in the winter. it’s stupid how bright all the lights are in shinjuku. there isn’t a square foot of anything that isn’t lit up with neon signs reading out the names of clubs and bars. you see couples and large groups of people walking along the streets.

it’s lonely, you realize. it would’ve been less lonely with megumi.

you make your way to the meeting spot with megumi. you both share a few small words before retiring for the night. megumi says he wants to go sightseeing, even though there’s really nothing much to see. he doesn’t return to the hotel room until late at night.

when he slips into the only bed that the room offers, you chalk it up to the slight alcohol you smell on his lips. it feels so natural that you don’t push him away even though you should. his body is warm and you fit so perfectly against his broad chest that you think it’ll be okay for you to be a little selfish tonight.

“g’night,” megumi mumbles in his sleep.

you smile and nuzzle closer.

it’s december 21st as you realize how late it is in the day. megumi is back on the couch. you feel a tinge of disappointment in the bottom of your stomach.

to no one’s surprise, the sun is barely peeking over the buildings when you’re finally back in the red-light district. you’re doing the last bit of cleanup, but there’s really nothing much for you to clean.

tomorrow, you’ll be heading to a shopping mall, so you suppose you should do your best to sniff out the rest of the curses littering the place unless you want to stay here an extra day. the day is, yet again, slow.

it’s nearing 8 PM and you're finally sure that you’ve gotten rid of all the curses in the general area. you’ve been done for quite a while now, but you just haven’t found the courage to let megumi know that you’re ready to go back to the hotel room. a little sightseeing on your end wouldn’t hurt, right?

“hi, pretty.” a gravelly voice, battered by cigarettes, whispers in your ear.

you jump in surprise. you need to remember not to get too far into your head. you should’ve felt his presence coming from a mile away. it’s a terrible habit and satoru has scolded you for years about it.

“hi,” you mutter, pushing past his larger frame.

the man isn’t as nicely built as the men you know (but then again, your friends are jujutsu sorcerers, so it’s kind of hard to beat that), but he still towers over you. he’s got a squad of rough-looking guys behind him, smirking down at you.

“why’s someone like you alone?” he says, shoving his arm to loop around your waist.

you roll your eyes, getting ready to punch the man square in the nose. will you get in trouble? probably yes. will it be a funny story to tell? also probably yes.

“don’t touch my wife.”

the group of men turn their heads along with you to see megumi. his expression is shrouded with a mixture of anger and frustration. you blink in confusion—megumi usually looks pretty pissed off, but this is the most angry you’ve seen him in a while. and ‘wife’? what’s up with that?

“oh, my bad,” the man chuckles. “didn’t know this pretty thing was married.”

“this ‘pretty thing’ wants you to let her go,” you say with an overly sweet smile. your teeth clench and you hiss, “right now.”

the guy scurries down the sidewalk with his buddies trailing along, making fun of him for hitting on a married woman. nobody mentions the lack of a ring on your finger. nobody mentions the lack of a relationship, either.

“wife?” you scowl. “we’re broken up.”

“guys tend to back up when they know a woman is married. it’s the only way you can really, uh, get them to go away around here.”

you glare at him. “and how would you know? you come here often with girls?”

“...no?” he blinks, unable to comprehend your sudden burst of jealousy. “i sometimes get missions around here, though. pretending to be married was the easiest way—”

“we aren’t, though. we’re not even in a relationship.” you seem to be throwing that into his face a lot more than you should. you can’t help it, though. you still feel a little bitter about not getting a real reason as to why megumi wanted to break up.

“i was trying to help you.” he’s calm and collected, as heard through his voice. he walks up to you and takes your freezing hand into his much warmer ones. “let’s go home.”

“i don’t want to,” you argue.

“stop being a brat,” he says, but there’s no bite to his words. “you’re cold and you’ve been out here all day. if i hadn’t stopped those guys, you probably would’ve beat them up pretty badly.”

“i’m not a fucking brat!” you try to retract your hand, but megumi’s grip only tightens.

“baby, stop,” the pet name rolls off his tongue with ease. megumi sighs softly and pulls you to his chest. “why are you so worked up, hm?”

from the way he speaks, you can tell that he already has an inkling. the breakup. cuddling last night. hugging you now. everything.

you don’t realize you’re crying until he gently wipes his thumb under your eye. he has the audacity to have an amused grin plastered on his stupidly pretty lips. your vision is blurry but if it hadn’t been, you would’ve thrown a punch.

“i’m sorry,” he whispers into your hair. “it’s all my fault.”

“it is,” you whimper pathetically. all the tears and the emotions you’ve been holding back bubble up to the surface.

“don’t be upset,” he almost pleads. “let’s go back, okay?”

the night ends with megumi on the couch. neither of you bring up the argument or the fact that he had slept in your bed with you last night. you two don’t talk about the usage of pet names, either.

when you open your eyes on december 22nd, you’re surprised to see that megumi has already headed out for the day. you click your tongue in annoyance—he’s always been good at avoiding his problems when it comes to dealing with them, especially problems involving his emotions. you already know where you’re supposed to be headed, so you suppose that it’s for the best that he’d left before you.

the shopping mall is a long line of vendors and stores among other things. the snow on the ground is fresh—it must’ve snowed late last night after you’d fallen asleep. it crunches underneath your beat-up sneakers with each step you take. you’re not shocked when you end up wandering aimlessly, dipping in and out of stores with no real urgency to finish your mission.

there’s nothing to do anyway.

you’ve killed about 3 curses total and it’s really starting to look like you’ve been sent out here for busy work. you really should’ve figured that out the first day of the mission when you had to practically beg the curses to come out and fight you.

you find yourself in the front of a jewelry store, eyeing a pretty bracelet that you know would look stunning around megumi’s wrist. it’s one of those bracelets that clasp tightly. there’s a thicker band in the center with pretty carvings that seem to resemble some sort of swirly heart. it’s pretty, you have to admit.

without much thought, you buy the gift.

the seller has to clear her throat to get your attention when you don’t answer her question. “um, would you like this to be wrapped?”

you nod absentmindedly. “oh, yes. sorry. please wrap it.”

she nods in return and proceeds to wrap the bracelet in a tiny box, adorning it with a festive bow. you ask her to change it out for a different color, explaining that it isn’t a christmas gift and instead, it’s for someone’s birthday. she offers you a warm smile before switching it with a muted blue ribbon.

you return to the hotel, having to take an expensive taxi. you don’t mind—the bracelet has already made a decent-sized dent in your wallet. why not spend an extra amount on getting home? it’s not like jujutsu sorcerers are paid poorly.

reality hits you when you finally get back to the hotel room. you want to punch yourself for being so stupid. did you really just buy a birthday present for your ex-boyfriend?

you’re thankful that megumi hasn’t arrived yet. he seems to be determined to avoid you for as long as he can. you can’t blame him, either. you did give him quite a hard time yesterday.

you toss the box on to the dresser and head to the bathroom to splash some much needed cold water on to your face. maybe that’ll wake you up enough to clear your mind. you’ve acted out once during this trip already and you’re not really looking forward to any other possible outbursts.

you rinse your face and pat yourself dry with one of the face towels provided to you by the hotel staff. you hang it over the rack again and tiredly make your way to your bed. you halt your movements when you see megumi standing by the dresser, admiring your gift.

he looks up at you in surprise with the smallest grin on his face. it’s so subtle that you would’ve missed it had you not been dating him for nearly two years.

“is this for me?”

“no,” you quickly deny. his face falls and you cough out, “um, i mean.. yeah. i-i didn’t… i… happy birthday.”

he brightens, lips pulling up into a real, genuine smile. “you remembered?”

“why wouldn’t i?” you blurt gently. you bite your inner cheek to stop yourself from saying anything more.

“i dunno.” his voice is distant and low, like he’s trying to hold back his tears. “i just…i didn’t think i was deserving of a gift from you. thank you. i like it.”

you stand awkwardly, shifting your weight onto your other foot. “yeah, well…”

“can you help me put it on?” he asks, sitting at the edge of your unmade bed.

you feel your body heat up. part of you screams for you to stop. you shouldn’t do that. it’s far too intimate and you two are broken up. you’ve never been good at making decisions, though, so you sit next to him and feel the mattress dip.

he gives you a grateful look, one that you willfully ignore, and gives you his wrist. you clasp the bracelet on, fingertips just barely grazing his skin. your heart skips a beat and you have to inhale sharply before pulling away.

“thank you,” he whispers.

december 23rd is a sore reminder that life goes on. you had half-expected something to spark between you and megumi. perhaps he’d beg for you back, or maybe with less wishful thinking, he’d give you his real reason as to why he doesn’t want you anymore.

“i don’t think we need to go anymore,” megumi says when you come out of the bathroom after freshening up.

“huh? why not?”

“there’s nothing out there.” megumi’s voice is flat.

“i know, but we’ll get in trouble if we…”

“gojo probably sent us out here for fun.”

your lips part. megumi turns to you with a slight frown.

“don’t you think so too?” he asks, but you know it isn’t a question he’s looking to find an answer to. “why would the higher-ups assign a mission like this to a special grade sorcerer and a grade 1 sorcerer? if they needed that much manpower, this mission would’ve been deadlier. instead, we’re playing cleanup crew.”

“yeah, but..” you trail off, unable to think of a statement to refute his words. “if we go back now, we’ll get chewed out.”

“it’s just a scolding. you’ll be fine.” megumi stands up and stretches his arms.

you watch him cautiously as he begins to fold his clothes and throw them into his duffel bag. he doesn’t say anything else, letting the silence overtake the room.

“...are we leaving, then?” you ask meekly, not bothering to hide the slight quiver in your voice.

he pauses slightly. “do you want to stay here until christmas? this mission is stupid and you know it. there’s no point.”

why is his tone so cold all of the sudden? it’s as if you two hadn’t shared a moment last night before bed. does your gift not mean anything to him now that he’s cleared his mind with a good rest?

your eyes flicker to his wrist. the gold glimmers underneath the light and you realize that megumi doesn’t seem to hate wearing it. so why is he acting so … unpleasant?

you feel a lump in your throat. it’s embarrassing how quickly he’s able to upset you from just the tone of his voice. even his body language, usually fluid and smooth, is rigid with your presence. you want to tell him that you’ve enjoyed your time with him. you want to shake his shoulders and tell him that if you two cut your mission short, you might not get another chance to be near him again.

“do you still care about me?” you whisper instead.

he stills completely. “what?”

“this entire time,” you begin shakily, “you’ve been nice to me. you treat me like you always do. you’re always hovering over me even though you pretend you aren’t! you obviously still care, megumi.”

his adam's apple bobs as swallows. a beat of silence. then two. then three.

“i do care,” he admits sorely.

“then why did you break up with me?” you blurt. there it is, the question you’ve been meaning to ask. you both had seen it coming.

“because…” megumi winces as if he’s the one getting hurt from the ordeal. “because you deserve someone that’s normal. someone that isn’t a sorcerer. i can’t give you that life.”

you feel your chest swarm with anger. why does he always think he needs to sabotage himself to make others happy? this is something you’ve tried working with him on, but it seems like old habits are hard to kill off, just like your habit of loving him.

“why the hell would you decide that for me? when did i ever say i wanted a normal life?” you snap. your hands clench at your sides.

“it’s too early for this,” he says, his voice straining as he finally musters up the strength to look at you in your eyes.

“tell me, megumi. if that’s the real reason, then that is the most pathetic excuse for a breakup i've ever heard.” your voice cracks and you gulp down the oncoming sob that’s threatening to explode from your throat.

he inhales slowly and makes his way to you, holding you close against his chest. you should push him away, but you would rather let him hug you. you know that you can’t fight him, anyway.

“you…once said you wanted a regular relationship. when you got hurt a few weeks ago, i realized i couldn’t be that for you,” he confesses lowly. “i knew that you’d never find it in yourself to leave, so i figured i should just let you go for your sa–”

“are you kidding me?” you shout incredulously. “i said that when i was fifteen, megumi! before i even knew what being in love was like!”

he flinches against you. “but i…”

“you and your damn savior complex! i don’t need to be in a regular, normal relationship! i don’t need any of that, megumi! i’m a sorcerer, I won't ever get to be normal! in fact, it’s even better that i’m with you because you at least know what this life is like, you idiot! you’re always ruining the good things in your life because you—”

he takes his fingers to grab your chin and he pulls you in for a kiss. if the kiss is a ploy to shut you up, you hate to admit that it’s working. his tongue slips into your mouth and you melt against him. your arms loop around his neck as you desperately drag him down closer to your body. his hand grip your waist while the other clings to the small of your back.

you whimper out of instinct and he pulls away, lips bruised and breathless. it’s been so long since you’ve tasted him and you frown, tiptoeing to capture his lips again. you need to savor him, to feel him lips against yours again.

“baby, wait.” his chest heaves as he looks down at you. “don’t…don’t do this to me.”

“do what?” you ask, an edge to your voice. did he just reject you? even after all that?

“w-we gotta report back to—”

“we’re supposed to leave tomorrow,” you interrupt.

the gears shift in his head. “fine, but—”

“i’m still really fucking mad, but i just need you to kiss me right now,” you whine impatiently.

all megumi does is laugh when he swoops down to press his lips against yours.

it’s december 24th when you two find yourselves in satoru’s office. steam is practically rising from your ears as you try to compose yourself in front of your former teacher.

“... i wanted a wedding invitation.” satoru shrugs.

“you set us up!” you whine angrily. “gojo, are you serious?! isn’t this a little immature?”

megumi stays silent, averting his gaze. he suddenly finds the succulents on satoru’s desk very interesting. he’s never noticed that they’re all nearly dead! how cool.

your eyes shoot daggers at megumi's silence.

"we aren't gonna get married any time soon..." megumi mutters when he feels your pointy glare on him.

satoru raises his hands in mock surrender. “you two can’t blame me! it worked out! you two are back together now, right?”

“but did you have to make us look like fools out there?” you groan.

“you should’ve figured it out on the first day that the mission was a sham!” satoru exclaims, offense taking over his features.

“but still!” you’re borderline hysterical at this point, unable to believe that your former teacher of all people had to set up an entire fake mission so that you and your ex could talk your feelings out. “we would’ve figured ourselves out sooner or later!”

megumi nods. he feels like he should at least give you a little support even if he’s embarrassed out of his mind.

“oh really?” satoru’s voice drips with sarcasm. “you guys should be thanking me—”

“you’re so not getting an invitation to our wedding!” you grumble.

“wha—hey! i’m the one that got you two back together! besides, i’m megumi’s guardian! you can’t just not invite me.”

“watch me!”

“megumi, tell her that she can’t do that—hey! where are you guys going? invite me, you rascals—why are you guys leaving? we aren’t done discussing this! megumi, don’t you dare take her side! she isn’t even your wife yet—don’t slam my door!”

#jjk x reader #jjk x you #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #megumi x you #fushiguro megumi x reader #jjk megumi #megumi fluff #not my best work tbh

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mbbmz · 23 days ago

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HEY IM BACKK🤭 Wakasa has been on my mind the past days (he deadass appeared in my dream💀) So I got a request where Wakasa is friends with reader and secretly likes her but hides it really well. So when the 1st gen bd drink together and Waka gets drunk he won't get off her, hugging her n stuff and it eventually leads to a sleepy confession from him ykk🤭 The others all tease him the next day for it😭 (sry if this is kinda long)

Omgg hi again! I’m so glad you decided to request again (I love Wakasa)

Your requests are always interesting ml heheheheh, even though I’m not really proud of this one, I still hope you’ll enjoy it (and sorry for the wait)

No warnings, alcohol consumption (a bit too much in this instance) fluff and crack

Every time you changed something about your appearance, no matter how small it was, no matter how many of your friends didn’t notice, Wakasa always did. Might be the slightest change in your hair or makeup, you’d always receive a "It suits you well" or "That’s a nice change". He would always carry that bored expression as he says it, as if he didn’t really care. But how would he notice such small details if he didn’t?

Of course he cared. He was your best friend after all. You called him that, others called you that, he called himself that. Even if those words left a bitter taste in his mouth. Yet he’d never act on it. He was content with what he had, content with the proximity you two shared. Even though he wanted more, he swallowed back all his feelings. Because Wakasa, as much as he didn’t like to admit it, was scared to lose you. So he swallowed back the lingering touches he wanted to give you, any comments that could appear as "too much", for the sake of your friendship. One he would continue to cherish, even if that meant settling for less than he wanted.

- "Come on, just one drink!"

You rolled your eyes. Currently, you were downplaying the invitation of your friend, really insistent to get you to drink with the small group tonight.

- "Dont insist, Omi… I have work tomorrow…"

It was Takeomi’s turn to roll his eyes.

- "Just live a little… beside…"

A small smirk appeared on his face. You were almost, almost curious as to what he was about to say.

- "I don’t believe you’ve ever seen Waka getting drunk…"

Your annoyed rambling about work stopped for a second. He was right, your best friend, the one you’ve known since so long… Have never been drunk in front of you. And you couldn’t deny that the thought made you curious. What kind of drunk was he? Emotional drunk? Tired drunk?.. Yeah, definitely that…

After a few seconds of thinking, you sighed, you couldn’t deny one drink sounded nice.

- "One drink…" You finally indulged, watching his smirk widen

- "You won’t regret it… it’s actually pretty fun to watch…"

On those words, you started walking toward the bar you often went at, where the others were probably already waiting.

And when Takeomi told you it would be fun to watch, you didn’t expect that. And based on his expression, he didn’t either.

You were trying to drink in your now half empty glass, but you found it difficult to do so, as a pair of strong arms were wrapped around your figure.

- "I’ve… never seen him like this before…" Stated Shinichiro, sitting across of you. In his eyes was a mixture of confusion and curiosity.

At this point, all the eyes around the table were on you, more precisely on the man clutching at your side. Wakasa Imaushi, the White Leopard, Black dragons founding member and first generation Special attack Unit captain, THE living legend… Clinging to you like a lost child.

- "N-No one- hic -can touch her… ‘xcept me…" He mumbled, eyes closed and face red from all the shots he had.

You were torn. You’ve never seen him like that, with you or with anyone. And your best friend being so clingy, so… touchy… felt weird. But at the same time… it wasn’t a bad kind of weird.

- Waka… I think I’ll drive you home…

As you muttered those words, you felt his grip tightening. Goddamnit was he strong. You winced slightly, trying to get him off, to no avail.

- "Can someone… Help me out here?.." you asked, a bit annoyed at the lack of reaction from your friends

The three guys exchanged looks, before looking back at you.

- "I mean… you heard him." Started Takeomi, a sly grin on his face

- "No one can touch you except him!" Finished Keizo, raising his hands to support his words

You rolled your eyes, hearing the three of them laughing like degenerates. Unbelievable.

You had to find something though. You wanted to go home, too. Yet it was proven difficult with the bag of muscles holding you tightly.

You sighed, looking at his slumped form, trying to find something to get him off.

- "… Hey Waka… Let’s go home, mhm?.." You tried to bargain, with seemingly no success.

- "N-Nah… M’staying… with you…" He mumbled, his speech almost incomprehensible.

You sighed sighed again. You definitely wanted to go home, getting a bit tired yourself.

- "… Wanna sleep at my place?.." You asked, as all eyes on the table landed on you, even his. You felt a need to denfend yourself to your peers.

- "N-Not like that! I’m not that kind of person!" You tried to defend yourself

- "That’s really inappropriate. I wouldn’t have taken you for the type…" Teased the black haired mechanic, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

- "Mhmm… Take me home, love…"

Your eyes widened, as everyone else’s. You looked down at your lap, eyes landing on a very sleepy Waka, nuzzling your thigh.

- "… Yeah, I’ll take him home… He’s… not in his right mind…" You muttered, trying to calm the emotions he provoked by calling you that.

- "Heh, you know what they say… A drunk man’s words is a sober man’s thoughts!"

You glared at Takeomi, who was laughing his ass off with your other friends. They wouldn’t let that die down easily…

You called a cab, trying to walk with a grown ass man clutched at your hip. Quite a humorous sight, really.

The drive wasn’t long thankfully, and you managed to drag the drunk man in your bed. You were too tired to do anything else, crashing on the mattress next to his unconscious form. You were about to fall asleep, when his voice caught your attention.

-" ‘Meant it, y’know… I don’t… wanna be your friend… wanna be more…"

You listened to his drunken confession, your own eyes fighting to stay open and focused on his relaxed face.

- "Wanna… hold you and… do shit couples do, I dunno…"

A small silence followed his words, lingering in the air. You looked at him one last time, before your eyes closed on their own.

- "G’night, Waka…"

The only answer you received was the sound of his slow breathing and light snores. You would deal with that tomorrow…

- "Hey, "love"! Mind grabbing me a beer?" Teased a certain black haired man, as your now boyfriend was glaring at him, fighting the urge to smash his head on the coffee table.

- "Takeomi I swear to god…" He warned, pinching the bridge of his nose as you let out a small chuckle.

He could now hold you, kiss you, and do plenty of other shit couples do.

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #wakasa imaushi #tokyo revengers fluff #tr wakasa #tokrev wakasa #tokyo revengers wakasa #wakasa x reader #wakasa x you

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number1jeonginstan · 1 year ago

Note

Ok, so sry to be bothering you... AGAIN😭Guess who's back with some more hard thoughts~?

But this has been on my mind all weekend

Lee Know asking if you wanted to hang out with him and the boy who r also bringin their girlfriends. He gives you the context of amusement park or arcade. You're like, I know the perfect outfit. It's a collared crop-top and a pleated skirt(idk what colors ill let you decide on that) The skirt just hugs your waist so nicely that it gets him hard. So he purposefully throws his glasses to the other side of the bed(It's against the wall), when you're not looking and asks so sweetly, "Hey, Baby? Can u get my glasses for me." And when you do what he asks he can see your cute little cotton panties and he can't help himself. He pushes you on the bed and devours you While he's fucking you, he's like, "Who were you dressing up for huh? Such a little slut with that tiny skirt. Trynna flirt with my friends?" He knows you would never but he's just too riled up

But, idk, just hard thoughts

-🥠

A/N: THIS WAS SUCH A GOOD REQUEST. I loved writing this, because Lee Know is definitely very protective, and seeing you in that short of a skirt would make him go feral…

WC: 1.9k

Minors don't interact, 18+

Pairing: bf! Lee Know x afab!Reader

Warnings: Lee Know calling reader a slut, unprotected sex, one ass slap, spitting…

It was finally the weekend and you were excited to relax and do nothing with Minho. You were upside down on your bed, scrolling through your phone when he barged into your shared room.

“Babe!” he yelled, running towards you, Soonie following behind him, swishing his tail. “Yeah what’s up?” you replied, rolling over onto your stomach to look at him. “Okay so, you know that new arcade that opened,” he said while sitting on the bed.

Soonie followed suit, jumping and curling into a ball next to you. “Yeah?” you replied, unsure where he was going with this. “Well, the boys wanted to go with their girlfriends, and they invited us.”

You just giggled along as he continued to explain. “Well, he rented out the place for us to play, so do you want to go?” He flopped onto the bed next to you, arms behind his head waiting for your response.

“Yeah, how long do we have though, we can go get lunch beforehand.” You said, slowly getting up. “We have a couple hours, it’s only 11, and they were thinking around 5 so we can go out and watch a movie after.”

“That works for me, let me go get ready.” You fully got up from the bed, giving Minho a kiss as you went to take a shower.

Before you got into the bathroom he yelled at you. “Are you sure you don’t want me to join!” in a teasing voice. You stuck your head out of the bathroom sticking out your tongue to him and locking the door.

You were only wrapped around in a towel as you got out of the shower, your body still a bit damp. You got out of the shower to meet Minho’s eyes tracing your body in the towel “Do you want to go in while the water is still hot?” you asked him.

He put down his phone, rubbed Soonie’s chin, and walked up towards you. “You really should have taken my offer and showered with me,” he said, kissing your lips and heading to the bathroom.

You just giggled, turning around and heading into your shared walk-in closet. You wanted to dress comfortably, but also cutely for the arcade. Thankfully, it wasn’t too cold, so you could get away with wearing just a skirt. You looked through your closet finding the new shirt you had just purchased, a mint-green collared shirt, and a pleated denim mini-skirt that worked perfectly with the shirt you chose.

Minho was still in the shower as you began to do your makeup. Sitting at the vanity mirror in your shared bedroom, you were contemplating doing just light makeup because you guys weren’t going anywhere special.

Minho had gotten out of the shower, towel still on his hips as you were applying your concealer. “What shirt should I wear?” he said from behind you, looking at you through the mirror. “I think a hoodie would look good, don’t you?”

He just nodded, kissing your temple, not fully seeing the outfit you were wearing, too occupied thinking about his own. As he finished finding an outfit, he placed his glasses on the bridge of his nose, laying on the bed waiting for you.

His back was towards the headboard, scrolling through bubble asking stays what he should eat for lunch as he finally looked up at you. You had gotten up to wet your beauty blender, what you vowed perfected your dewy makeup, which he always laughed up. His eyes roamed your body, taking in every inch. He had never seen that shirt before, or that skirt.

The skirt hugged your torso perfectly, flaring out on your smooth thighs. The shirt on the other hand was his favorite color. He could see the outline of your bra, and he could feel himself getting hard. You had been holding out on him, and he wanted you right there and then. He started thinking about what colored panties you were wearing under your skirt. How easy it would be to bend you over and see them. He put his plan into action. Before you came back, he threw his glasses to the other side of the room. You would be a good little girlfriend and receive it for him if he asked.

As you sat back down, he was trying to think of a way to get your attention. You had finally finished your look, applying mascara to your lashes, and you looked at him through the mirror. “Where did your glasses go?” you asked, taking note of the frames no longer being on his face. “I sneezed and now I don’t know where they are.”

“Do you want me to find them for you?” you asked, getting up from your chair and walking around in search of them. He just nodded, getting up as you bent over on the floor in hopes of finding them. They had ended up under the bed, as you bent over, trying to get them, Minho had rutted his crotch on top of yours, throat around your neck.

He pulled you off the floor, putting your back directly against his chest, and whispered in your ear. “Who did you dress like such a slut for?”

Before you could say anything, he threw you on the bed. You squealed in surprise, Minho was dominant, but he had never done anything like this before. “Fuck, look wearing white panties and acting all innocent while dressing like a slut.”

“Do I need to remind you who you belong to?” Minho said, opening your mouth by pressing it together with his hands. “Take my spit like a good girl okay? Let me mark you.”

You stuck out your tongue, waiting for him to put his fingers in your mouth, but instead, he spit into it. The string of saliva still being there as he told you to close your mouth. “Stop gaping at me like a fish, and swallow.”

You just nodded, closing your mouth and swallowing his saliva. “Good kitten, now turn around I wanna see your pussy.”

You did as he asked, turning around, your ass facing out as your face was slightly faced into the bed. He could already see a wet spot on your panties, “What a whore, already wet from me just spitting in your mouth. Maybe I shouldn’t even prep you?”

You just whined at his words, begging for any sort of stimulation, and began humping the air slightly. “Fuck, can’t even wait for sir to make you feel good. Maybe I should just get off by myself?”

“No please, will be good, will be good for you Sir.” you pleaded, you needed him. “Then be a good girl, and listen at once.”

He smacked your ass, eliciting a moan from your lips. “Fuck, gonna eat this pussy like it’s my last meal.”

He kissed your thighs, slowly going up to your covered pussy, kissing the fabric. He slowly took the fabric off of you, letting out a sigh of contentment when he saw how wet you were for him. “Sir please” you moaned, feeling the cool air coming in contact with your bare cunt.

“Shut up or else” he groaned into your cunt, wanting to enjoy the moment. You quickly became quiet, covering your mouth with your hand as he began to lick a stripe in between your folds. He flipped you around, wanting to be face-to-face with your cunt.

You began to try and take off your skirt, but he slapped your hand away. “Wanna fuck you while you are wearing this skirt. Want to make you cum in this so it reminds you of who owns you whenever you wear it.”

You just nod your head, placing your hands on your face as he begins to suck on your clit. Licking it and sucking on it as he began to slip one of his veiny fingers into your cunt. “Fuck baby, taste so good, only for me right?”

You moaned as he began to thrust his finger inside of you, still sucking on your clit. “Take off your shirt and your bra, I want you to play with your tits.”

You did as he asked as he still ate you out, barely able to comprehend anything as you felt the fabric of your bra shifting off your nipples. He looked up from your cunt, your juices splayed against his chin as he leaned in to kiss you.

You could taste yourself on him, moaning as one of his fingers came to pinch your nipple. “Be a good girl and play with them for me okay?” He said kissing your lips another time. You nodded, bringing your fingers to them, as he began to take off his shirt. You could feel his cock rub against your thigh as he was doing so.

It was getting to be a bit much, you were soaked and you needed him inside of you. You pawed at his pants, trying to get them off faster. “Fuck baby, that’s why you wore this skirt, because you want my cock that bad?”

You nodded, “Can I please have your cock sir?” you begged. He obliged, reaching over to get a condom, but you stopped him. “Want you in me raw today” and he groaned out loud. “Fuck baby, want to wake around with my cum? Want everyone to know you belong to me?”

You nodded, “want everyone to know that I’m your Sir.”

“So my baby isn’t a slut for my friends, she’s just a slut for my cock,” he said, kissing your lips again.

He began aligning his cock with your cunt, slapping your clit a few times with his tip, trying to get you to squirm underneath him. “Please sir, I need it” you moaned, wrapping your legs around him trying to get him to put it in already.

He finally obliged, slowly putting his cock into you, inch by inch. “Fuck kitten, you are so tight, I need to fuck this cunt more often then? Get you nice and stretched out for me so I can use you anytime.”

“Yes sir, please fuck me anytime, where ever you want, will be good for you.”

He fucked into you like a madman as soon as you said that, his cock disappearing under your skirt and into your tight pussy was all he needed. “Fuck baby, this cunt is squeezing me so tight.”

He could feel your cunt squeeze around him, fluttering, so he brought down his hand rubbing your clit as he sped up his place a bit. “Are you close kitten?”

“Yes sir, need your cum, please need it in me.” Your pussy was convulsing around him and you could feel yourself reaching your peak, especially because he was hitting the spongey spot inside you. “Fuck kitten, cum for sir, cum on my cock.”

That was all you needed to cum around him, moaning his name over and over again. That was all Minho needed to cum inside you.

He slowly pulled out, watching your pussy dribble out the mixture of both your cum onto your skirt, ruining it.

“Fuck baby, sorry if that was too much,” he said, trying to fix your hair a bit. You just giggled, falling back into his arms. “At least this time we won’t be too late” you giggled into his ear. He just laughed, you still in his arms,

#skz #stray kids #straykids x reader #skz smut #skz x reader #straykids smut #ju <3 answers #ju <3 thoughts #lee know x reader #skz lee know #lee know smut #lee minho x reader #lee know #ju <3 writes #ju's <3 anons

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toxicanonymity · 1 year ago

Text

Cinemax.

2.5k, boyfriend's dad!Joel x f!reader

SUMMARY: PWP, you catch him watching porn. you get on top, then ride his arm then sit on his face.

WARNINGS: 18+ unsafe P in V, creampie, infidelity, boyfriend's dad, jacking off, arm riding, face sitting cum eating, pinky up the ass, filth, use of "daddy," risk of getting caught, reference to you blowing jack but no detail. unedited fuck it we ball.

A/N: Request from arm riding anon, last night of vacay anon can't find u sry.

After a long day shopping, you give your boyfriend Jack a blowjob he doesn’t deserve, just to knock him out. You think about his dad Joel while you do it—his short swim trunks, his shades, his fluffy hair, his gold chain. The way he looks at you, the way he whispers in your ear. The way he drools over your body. Jack dozes off about as quickly as you expect, and soon he's snoring.

You slip out of bed in your thin tank top and loose, short shorts. The air conditioning hits you hard but you don't put on a robe. You intend to slide right into Joel's bed anyway. You quietly open your bedroom door and creep into the hallway. Joel’s door is cracked open, which you’d like to think is a subtle invitation. But when you push it open, the bed is unmade and he’s not in it. You walk down to the common area of the suite and blue lights are flickering from the tv. The volume is low, but it sounds like an action comedy.

Joel moans and your breath hitches. You hug the wall with your back as you creep closer, trying not to make a sound or a shadow. The closer you get, you hear a deep, breathy “ohh.” He sighs and moans, and the unmistakable wet stroke of skin on skin has you clenching your thighs. Next thing you know, you're feeling your breast.

“Ah, fuck,” he sighs, and you moan audibly. Your hand covers your mouth too late. He pauses the movie. Reflexively, you think about hiding, feeling guilty about the intrusion. But then you say, fuck it, and walk in. You stop when you can see the screen and he can see you. He’s on the pull-out couch, sitting back against the cushion.

His voice is deep and hushed. "was just thinkin' about ya. "

He shifts to face you. He’s got a pillow sitting loosely in his lap. He’s shirtless, nothing but pastel green boxers and his gold chain and a pinky ring. Bed head. He scratches one side of his beard as he checks you out with half-lidded eyes. "Can’t sleep?"

You look at the TV and do a double take. “Is that... Is that Manuel Ferrara?” (porn star)

“You know this joker?”

“Oh, I know him. What is this? How old is it?”

“Pirates II, quality cinema.”

You raise your eyebrows and put your hand on the arm of the sofa closest to you. You kneel onto the pull-out mattress, trying not to make a loud creak. He wets his lips as you slowly approach on your knees, springs quietly accepting your weight. The way his eyes dance down your body remids you your hard nipples are poking out from your thin top, loose shorts riding down below your hips.

---

He watches your legs flex as you sit next to him, partially facing him to your right, with your shoulder resting on the middle cushion against the wall and your right knee bent, between you. You look at the pillow in his lap, then grab the corner. He shifts to face you, and his chest expands under his chain. He watches you darkly as you slide the pillow off him and put it out of the way on the mattress.

You suck in a deep breath as you observe the massive tent in his boxers. He wraps a hand around it, the shape of his stiff cock covered by the pinstripe fabric under his fist and pinky ring.

He whispers, "yeah, come to daddy," clothed cock still in his hand as he lunges toward you.

You lean toward him and close the gap. You're on your sides facing each other. He looks from your eyes to your lips, and you whisper, “I need this,” and grab the shape in his boxers before your lips meet. His hand brushes yours as he leaves it to you. It sends a wave of need through your chest. He cradles your head and kisses you feverishly, plunging his tongue into your mouth. Meanwhile, you grope him and open the slit of his boxers to free his rock-hard length, sticky with saliva or lube. He hums "Mmm" into your mouth at the touch of your hand on his naked cock. You break the kiss to look at it and use your thumb to smear the precum leaking from his tip.

“You were close, huh?” you tease him.

He laughs. “I dunno if I can last, baby.”

“You’ll make it up to me if ya don't.”

"Ohh yeah."

“Guess I better get on this fast, huh?” you ask with a squeeze of his cock.

“Wanna go to bed?"

You shake your head no.

“That’s my girl.”

“Wanna sit on daddy’s cock right here,” you whisper.

“Fuck yeah,” he breathes. He adjusts the cushion then lays back on it, facing the tv again, mostly lying down, with his head and shoulders elevated by the cushion. You take off your shorts and push a blanket out of the way. You begin to straddle him and he lifts his head off the cushion slightly to reach between your legs and feel how wet you are. “Damn, this all for daddy?” He sits up enough to grab your ass and pull you toward his cock. "good girl."

You straddle his hips, notching his cock at your entrance. Your clit twitches. As soon as you begin to sink down, he thrusts up, impaling you with a deep sigh as his girth pushes you open. The momentum sends his chain to his collarbone. “Yeah, c’mon baby.” You begin to roll your hips at a slow rhythm and he sighs “Ohhh, fuck, just—ohhh” He ties to hold you still. You indulge him. Then he punches his cock upward “Fuck yeah--ohh,” you meet his cock but let him drive things mostly.

“Daddy,” you whimper.

He pulls your tanktop down below your breasts and watches them move with each thrust. Meanwhile you watch his pecs flexing and his chain moving with each movement. You tilt your hips and grind your clit against him. He sighs. “Fuck, just like that.”

“Yeay, daddy-ohhh.”

He wraps a muscular arm around you, bringing your chest to his. The strength of his arm holds you still, and he holds your ass with his other hand. He fucks up into you, “Oh yeah,” he pants. “Fuck, ahh,” the power of his hips has his gold chain moving on his flexing pecs. You kiss and suck his neck as he rails you from the bottom. “Takin’ it so—so, mmm, so good for daddy.”

“Yeah, take it—nnngh,” He’s so. . . he’s so good at this. Your front is grinding against his pubic hair just right, then he ups the pace and your heart skips a beat. “Oh fuck, baby–mmmm– yeah” he pounds you from the bottom, his arm holding you down. He pants, “Yeah, take it,” his breath becoming ragged, chain lazily sliding on his strong, sunkissed chest.

You whimper on the cusp of coming and he says, “C’mon, baby–ohh, fuck—come for daddy c'mon—-ohhhhhh, fuck, baby.” Agony spreads across his face. "Can't wait, baby--ohhhh." Then he pulls you down hard on his cock and erupts with a shudder, shooting his warm release into you. It almost sends you, And if you grinded himself on him as he came, you'd probably get there, but frankly you don't want this to be over.

----

“You close?” he reaches for your clit and thumbs it.

You nod.

“Sit on my face.”

He nudges you up with a thrust of his hips and says, “c’mon, let’s get you off.”

You dismount him, one knee to each side of his left arm, the arm towrd the back of the couch. He moves so he’s lying with his head about a foot from the arm rest.

You can’t take your eyes off his body. You’ve been staring at these arms all week. Bulky, sunkissed, strong, so strong. They flex and glisten in the sun. He reaches for you with his closest hand and sides his fingers along your puffy, throbbing cunt. He rubs your clit with a deep breath and gives a low whistle. “C’mon, I ain’t leavin’ ya like this.”

He reaches between your legs to your ass and palms it to pull you closer. You grab his bicep with both hands and he freezes. You put his arm down on the mattress, running your thumbs over it in admiration of the muscle. He watches you practically salivate over his arm. Then he slowly lifts his forearm, nudging you forward, with his hand on your back and his elbow between your legs. His cum trickles out onto his bicep and he sucks in a deep breath. You lower yourself so your clit meets his warm skin, and he hums “Mmm. This what ya want?”

You nod. “So strong, daddy” You grind yourself on his hard bicep and watch his chest rise more peacefully, his chain glimmering. The way he looks at your body makes you swoon. Like you’re a work of art. The tension swells in your lower belly as you grind on him.

"Hold on, baby.” He turns on his side, facing you. He makes eye contact as he sucks the pinky of his free hand, getting it reallly slobbery. Then he adjusts the arm under you, giving you a wave of arousal as the muscle flexes between your legs. His hand on your back pushes you down so your upper body can feel the heat of his. He teases your asshole with his wet pinky, "Hmm?” he asks. You nod, then he slides the pinky in, sucking in air thruh his teeth. “Fuck, you're so hot, baby.” His pinky is fatter than your index finger.

He pushes the digit in just far enough so the chunky ring is nudging but not entering your asshole. You begin to grind on his bicep again and he moves his pinky in tandem with you. You twitch and throb and the hand on your back brings you further down toward him. His head lifts off the mattress and his lips latch onto yours. You moan “Mmmm” as you grind on the slippery mess of his arm and he fingers your ass. He flexes his bicep again and you whimper, “Daddy.”

“Yeah, come for Daddy,” he encourages. You really dig your clit into his arm and he flexes again at the same time, and the tension bursts. You take in shallow, audible breaths, trying to come as quietly as possible. He covers your mouth with his again and you whimper, slowly grinding on his arm, riding out your orgasm, with his pinky still in your ass.

When you stop convulsing on his arm, he takes his pinky out of your ass and sucks it.

“You got one more for daddy?” You do, you can feel it, you’re throbbing. Your only hesitancy is the mess between your legs. The mess of his own cum. Fuck it, he doesn't care.

He moves so he’s lying down flat where you can straddle his head. “Be a good girl,” he murmurs. “n’ sit on daddy’s face.”

You straddle his face, facing his eyes and the arm of the sofa.

“Fuck, shoulda done this first,” he laments. “Look so fuckin’ hot.” He sighs. “Use me, baby,” he begs, “Don’t hold back.”

“Say stop,” you whisper. “Or tap out. Don’t wanna suffocate ya.”

As you spread your thighs wide over his face, your combined fluids leak out of you and he breathes, “fuck yeah,” his warm breath hitting your cunt. You hold onto the arm of the sofa for leverage. You’re facing his eyes and he looks up at your tits hanging over him. . He lifts his head enough for his lips to latch onto your dripping seam, and he begins to kiss your clit, then lap at your entrance, swallowing his own cum.

“C’mon, baby,” he begs as he pulls you down on his face. His mouth feels like heaven, and you’re already close. His beard scratches your inner thighs in a pleasant way. You begin to grind on him, using his nose to massage your clit, still hanging onto the sofa’s arm as he licks and sucks. He lifts his hands to palm your breasts. You fist his hair and he moans into your cunt.

“Oh, daddy,” you whine as quiet as you can, “Daddy, I’m gonna–”

He moans and grabs onto your ass again and his fingers dig into your flesh as he eats you hungrily. You grind against him again, your fingers digging into the arm of the sofa, and you silently gasp as your orgasm seizes you. Then you sputter, “D-daddy, ohhh.”

“Mmmm,” he moans and watches you tremble and jerk with your spine arching, your thighs quivering against his cheeks. You lift yourself off him as soon as you finish. “So fuckin’ hot,” he repeats in a whisper. You dismount him. The bottom half of his face is all red and soaked, some of his cum stuck in his beard.

-----

“You might wanna,” you gesture on your own face to show him. He goes and gets two washcloths, one for you. Your inner thighs are a little scratched up. When you’re cleaned up, you grab your shorts to put back on.

You settle back into the sofa again and catch your breath. He lays down with his head on the cushion again. His chest is still rising and falling with deep breaths. He extends an arm for you. You put your face on his chest, cheek on his chain, and his arm wraps around you.

“Guess we’re going home tomorrow,” you mumble, tired.

A minute or two of silence pass, and his breathing is so steady you wonder if he’s planning to fall asleep like this.

“You should dump him,” Joel whispers into your hair. Then his heart rate increases under your ear.

Your chest tightens and you feel defensive, like he’s implying it’s wrong, when he started all this. “I. . .” you’re not sure what to say. You don’t know if Joel would want to be with you, or if he just thinks Jack doesn’t deserve you. It’s hard to imagine Joel wanting to be with his son’s girlfriend. “What are you saying?” you ask.

“Wanna know why I came out here? Wasn't for the mattress,” he laughs. "Got cinemax in the room."

“Why?”

“Cause I could hear y'all,” he admits. "Or, him."

Your heart skips a beat. Joel was jealous? “I–we weren't fucking, sorry, I thought--” Wait, you’re apologinzg for blowing your boyfriend. You think better of explaining, even if you were doing it so you could get him to sleep and sneak into Joel's room.

Joel chuckles and covers his face with his hand, peering through his fingers. He mumbles into his palm, “Well, it was gross.”

You look at him and he slides his hand off his face. There’s something casually needy in his eyes. You don’t say anything, just look at each other. You squint at him, trying to read him. He breaks into a smile and laughs quietly.

Then it fades and he gets pensive. He looks at the tv for a few seconds, then back at you. He turns on his side to face you completely, then takes your hand.

“Lemme take ya out or somethin'." He brings your hand to his lips and kisses it gently. "Promise we'll have a good time.”

—-------

Follow @toxicfics for notifs 🖤

—------

he could prob use some thigh riding too, naturally 😁

Thank you so much for reading and engaging. Your interactions really motivate me. 🥹🖤

More of this joel/reader:

Sky's out, thighs out (1.5k) He gives you a good time at the rooftop pool.

at the beach (300)

sun's out, guns out (2.3k) pool

shopping (1.3k) fitting room mirror

blow job (200?)

-------

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #bd!joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #thighs out!joel #thighs out!joel☠️#toxicanonymity ☠️

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frenchkisstheabyss · 1 year ago

Text

୨୧ ｓｔｒａｗｂｅｒｒｙｊｕｌｉｕｓ ୨୧

୨୧ Pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x chubby!fem!reader x boyfriend!namjoon

୨୧ Genre: fluff, smut, rocker au/crime au combo

୨୧ Summary: The night of an event you've been stressing out about for weeks, you find stress relief in an unexpected but welcome place.

୨୧ Word Count: 2.4k-ish

୨୧ Warnings: unprotected sex, double penetration, double creampie, anal, light choking, dirty talk, pet names, strong language (I can be a potty mouth, sry), pet names (love, baby), dom vibes if you squint, & that's all I think.

୨୧ A/N: I really wanted to mix two of my favorite au's with two of my favorite people so here we are. There's definitely gonna be a part two because my brain won't shut up about this. Anyway, I hope you like it my loves 🖤

Punk music blares from the speakers in your living room, the distorted strumming of guitars and brutal drumming enough to shake the walls of your two story home. Playing your music as loud as you want whenever you want. One of the few perks that come with living on the edge of the city where your nearest neighbor's an elderly woman a mile down the road who never uses her hearing aid.

A hearing aid. You’ll need one any day now if you keep this up but you can’t bring yourself to care. You’re having the time of your life fresh out of the shower, dancing around in your towel while you tear your closet apart to find an outfit for the party tonight. Everything has to be perfect. Your hair. Your outfit. Your makeup. Jungkook says you’re perfect already. That everything else is just decoration.

With all the effort he put into getting your band invited to this party, your “decoration” needs to be more memorable than ever. Everyone who’s anyone on the punk scene will be there tonight. From journalists to producers to some of the women who inspired you to start a band to begin with. The pressure to make a lasting impression is insane and the precise reason you’re running on 4 hours of sleep right now. You’ve been moving non-stop since this morning, trying to outrun your doubts and insecurities.

“Love, slow down. Let me help you” Jungkook whispered in those moments he caught you burning yourself out. You don't know what you'd do without the sweetheart that he is. Digging through your top drawer you pull out a pair of fishnets, the ones he can't get enough of, and you're instantly reminded of the other side of him. Thoughts of all the filthy things you’ve done in these fishnets bring a tingle to your cheeks that spreads between your thighs like wildfire.

“Not tonight” you say to yourself, tossing them back in, “I’ll never be able to focus.” Shaking off vivid memories of being fucked against the questionably clean mirror of a dive bar last weekend, you continue to raid your closet, carelessly making a mess that’ll be a problem for future you to deal with.

“Baby!” Jungkook shouts, stepping through the front door twirling his keys around his fingers. His heavy black combat boots hit the hardwood like the steps of a giant as he marches over to the speaker and turns the music down. “Baby! Where are you?” There’s an adorable pitter patter of feet from above before your voice sounds from the top of the stairs. “I’m here! Get everything you needed from the store?”

His brain glitches. The store? Oh, yeah. That lie he told you about needing to run to the store for something. You never pressed him for specifics. A testament to the level of trust you have in him. Trust that hopefully won’t be shattered by the fact that he lied his ass off. He cuts his eyes at the tall man looming by the door, knowing that his presence is the only thing that’ll redeem him.

“Uh, yeah, I did” he lies, appearing at the bottom of the stairs, “Could you come here for a second?” Without bothering to answer, you skip down the stairs, only hitting the second to last step before he has his arms around your plush figure. The towel bunches up around your waist, raising your towel just enough to allow your ass to poke out the bottom. He can’t resist brushing his fingers along the softness of your ass.

A move that reignites that tingling you felt earlier and has your lips latching onto his before he can say another word. Jungkook dives right in, shoving his hands beneath your towel to hungrily grip handfuls of your curves. There’s no time for this but he’ll make it. He has to. Something about you drowns out his reason. He’d postpone his own funeral if it meant he got to touch you one last time.

“Does everyone who comes over get to watch or am I just special?” Namjoon teases, slamming the front door shut. Jungkook’s stomach sinks, suddenly remembering what he’d actually left the house to pick up. Yours sinks even lower. That voice. It hasn’t lived within these walls for years. Jungkook steps back, waving Joon over. “I, uh, got something extra from the store.”

A half dozen emotions brew inside of you, none of them identifiable. You only know that your feet are glued to the ground. That your mouth is drier than it's ever been and your heart’s beating in your throat. Joon approaches you, his arms outstretched to welcome you into a hug. When you don’t budge, your pouty bottom lip the only part of you able to move, he pulls you into his arms anyway.

The strength of his hug, the love laced within it, heals something inside of you that has your vision going hazy with tears. Lifting you from the stairs, Joon brings you between him and Jungkook. They hug you from both sides the way they used to before Joon went away. 4 years in prison. Light work for washing dirty money but an eternity for your close knit trio. You haven’t laid eyes on him since that last day in court.

He’d only let Jungkook come visit, insisting that you shouldn’t be in a place like that. You lost count of the hours you spent in tears hating him for keeping you away but loving him too much for the feeling to ever stick. Your Joon didn’t belong locked away with killers and god knows who else. Everything he did, everything you did together, was to survive. He'd never hurt anyone and knowing he might be surrounded by people who would made being kept at a distance sting that much more.

There was no way you and Jungkook would’ve survived without each other. Him losing his best friend and you losing one of your loves. No matter how far your careers advanced, how nice this house was, or how much money you had tucked under the floorboards in the attic, nothing could change how incomplete you feel. How incomplete you felt.

“Ouch!” Joon cries, jumping when you pinch his side, “What was that for?” “What the fuck are you doing here?” you shout, wiping the tears from your eyes. Joon just laughs, “I still live here don’t I?” “Duh, you idiot! But you’re not supposed to—your release is months away—I thought—” You turn to Jungkook who grabs your hands, intertwining his fingers with yours before you pinch him too.

“Early release. I was gonna tell you, I just thought it’d be a fun surprise. Plus you were so freaked out about tonight. I just didn’t wanna psych you out. You mad at me?” Jungkook pouts, those brown puppy dog eyes pulling you in like they always do. “I’m not mad” you huff, rolling your eyes while leaning in to let him peck you on the cheek. Joon kisses you on the neck from behind, his large smooth hands massaging your tense shoulders.

You reach back, running your palm across his buzz cut hair, “I like the new hair. It’s kinda hot.” “Only kinda?” he asks, nipping at your neck, revenge for that pinch earlier. His hands slide down, patiently rounding your curves to reach your exposed thighs. “Stop” you giggle, a chill running up your spine, “I have to get ready.” Jungkook pulls his phone from his pocket to check the time. “We can always help you get ready” he grins, pushing his knee between your thighs to make enough space for Joon to run two fingers over your slit.

“It’s so wet down there” Joon hums, “Is that just from the shower or—.” Twisting free, you rush back up the stairs, stopping halfway up to glance back at them. “I still need to do my hair.” Jungkook shrugs, taking two steps toward you, “I’m pretty good with hair.” You swallow hard, wiping your sweaty palms on your towel. “And…and my makeup.” Joon tilts his head to see you better, “I can do that.”

Why are they like this? So annoyingly persistent. It’s not like you don’t want it. The thought had crossed your mind to have a quickie with Jungkook when you were standing in your bedroom zoning out with those fishnets in your hand. With Joon back you find yourself wanting it even more. Those feelings that overcame you are much clearer now. Passion. Love. Lust. Joy. All fighting for dominance and right now one in particular’s winning.

Look at them. They’re both so fucking handsome. And the closer they get the harder it is to ignore the voice in the back of your head telling you to give in. “Just a kiss” it whispers as Jungkook catches up to you, his lips dangerously close to yours. You close your eyes as your lips meet, his tongue snaking against yours. One kiss. Just one.

Joon dreamt of being with you like this again. Him lying across the bed, pillows beneath him to keep him at the perfect angle to lower you into his lap. Fingers digging into the plush of your hips, he guides his length, coated in lube from base to tip, to that gorgeous ass he got a few nibbles of when you first took your towel off. “Joon…ah” you gasp, biting down on your bottom lip as the warm tip penetrates your tight hole.

Anal was never Jungkook’s thing. Seeing those cute heart shaped butt plugs you liked to wear when he had you bent over was the extent of his interest. Joon on the other hand had always been insatiable and time hasn’t changed that. “Fuck, still so tight for me” he groans out in pleasure, the tightness of your ass choking his dick the deeper he goes.

When he finally bottoms out, you fall back onto his bare chest moaning weakly, drool already leaking from the corners of your mouth. Earlier your body wouldn't even move. Now you can’t stop it from trembling, the fullness overwhelming you enough to turn your brain to soup. Joon locks an arm around your waist, the other coming around so he can palm your breast.

“Missed you” he whispers, rocking beneath you at a pace slow enough for his and your sanity. Your hand skims his forearm, nails digging in when he does a slight bounce to mess with you. He’s definitely put on some weight while he was away. Whatever they were feeding him, whatever weights he was lifting, you approve because he’s stronger than you ever knew him to be and you’re loving it.

“You sure you can take both of us?” Jungkook taunts, shifting his weight on the bed to hover between your legs. He places a hand on your knee, dipping two fingers into your core. He's achingly hard, twitching, leaking precum on the blankets at the sight of how wet you are. Your pussy glistens so beautifully, your walls clenching around his fingers while Joon fucks your other hole. Jungkook awaits your answer but he’s only met with your needy moans and cries.

“You have to say something, baby” he says, his thumb strumming your clit, “Tell me what you want.” The hand on your knee comes around your neck, his hold on you firm yet gentle. Joon slows his movements, offering you a second—and only that—to get your thoughts together. “Come on, you can do it. Tell us what you want.” Jungkook’s fingers are still working inside of you, mercilessly milking your g-spot.

“I…I can take it” you whine, forcing the words from your throat, “Fill me up. Please. Want it so bad. So bad.” “That’s my girl” Jungkook smiles, popping his fingers out of you. You watch as he strokes himself, using your arousal as lubricant. Joon’s hips begin to move again, leaving you pulsing in two places at once. Your clit stiffens as Jungkook rubs his tip between the silken folds of your warmth, sinking into you without warning.

They take turns thrusting into you, one then the other, making sure you feel every arch and defining vein along their shafts. This perfect dance of pleasure and overstimulation has you crying out, tears leaking from watery eyes. Incoherent moans flow out into the ether and it’s not just you, it's them too. You can’t get enough of it, rotating your hips as best you can to pull the dirtiest noises out of them. Joon pulls your head back to kiss you and the moment you break for air Jungkook’s kissing you too, suspending you in a constant state of breathlessness.

You’ve forgotten all about the party, your worries reduced to nothing by the ecstasy of this unexpected reunion. There’s nowhere else you want to be but here between the men you love, tension winding in your belly. You whine something between Joon’s lips and they just know what it is. Letting go of your throat, Jungkook slips his hand between your waist and his, rubbing your clit to push you over the edge. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!” you scream, ears ringing as juices stream from your core, making the sound of your bodies snapping together even sharper.

You feel weightless, disembodied, floating above yourself, jerked back to reality only by the pressure of Joon coming inside of you. You hold his hand, pressing down onto him as you kiss him over your shoulder. At the same time you’re tugging at Jungkook’s hair, keeping him flush against you. “Harder” he begs, his thrusts growing sloppier the harder you pull. One final tug has him unraveling, another wave of warmth filling you just as the other fades away.

The energy in the room gradually comes down, heavy panting turning to light breaths as you cuddle beside each other, your sweat slicked bodies still tangled together. “Still need help with your hair?” Jungkook asks, lovingly petting your head. Joon peeks over to find you sleeping more peacefully than you have in years. He kisses you on the forehead, pulling the blanket over you. “I don’t think so.”

#jungkook x reader #namjoon x reader #poly bts #jungkook x you #namjoon x you #namjoon smut #jungkook smut #bts au #chubby reader #plus size reader #chubby smut

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disneyprincemuke · 10 months ago

Text

where the fun begins, 2 * ls2 (ms47)

it’s friday: logan throws the party he’s claims he’s having just for you to come around, not even knowing if you’ll be attending

pairings: frat!logan x reader, college!mick x reader

notes: um im on my phone in school i dont have a word count and neither did i plan on making this this long… sry guys uwu hope u like it (i’m desperately running out of logan gifs pls help me)

biggest thanks to @angsthology for helping me out with the white man fight and smug logan because i couldnt, for the life of me, figure that scene out so thank yew baby :*

(f1 masterlist)

| one | two | three | four |

friday rolls around, two days since logan had seen you in the bowling alley with another guy. he also spent the last two days organising a party, completely last minute, sending the entire house into a frenzy to set it in stone.

typically, parties are structured and planned at least two weeks ahead of time. but this time is different.

he can't ignore the frustration that clouds his thoughts when he thinks of that night. or you, in general. all he sees is you wrapped around someone else's arms.

he's been watching the door for the past hour, curious if you had taken him up on his invitation. it's been two hours since the start of the party, and logan knows damn well that word has gotten around about their open house party.

it should have been invitational only, as they usually host their parties. but it's way too last minute to make it an exclusive party. so, they made sure word got around.

he knows that you know what time the party starts. because mick's friends have already made their way into the frat house, drowning in alcohol and pressed up against girls on the dance floor. he only wonders if you would ever come by.

logan folds his arms over his chest, smiling smugly as he watches the crowd pour into the dimly lit home. he turns to oscar. "see? i told you i could pull it off."

oscar stops next to him, hands in his pockets. "i got to say – this is the most effort i've seen you put in a girl," oscar teases, glancing at his friend from the corners of his eyes. "you must really like her."

"i just don't like losing," logan scoffs with an eye roll. "especially not to some loser like the guy she's with."

losing? no, he is jealous. but he would rather abolish this entire party as a whole than admit that to anybody.

"schumacher?" oscar laughs, throwing his head back. "he's not even a loser, mate. have you even talked to him?"

"whose side are you on, dude?" logan frowns, throwing his arms in the air. "there is a wrong answer to this question."

oscar rolls his eyes and punches logan. objectively speaking, he is on mick's side; for your sake. but in a friend perspective, he’ll always be on logan’s side. but even he can admit logan’s a bit of a dick sometimes.

"whatever, dude." he smiles to himself, watching liam open the door to let another crowd in. "it's a very well-put-together party. i'm surprised. where did you get the keg on such short notice?"

logan has this shit-eating grin on his face, one that oscar desperately wants to wipe off. but he can only step back and watch the downfall of all his antics. it's funnier that way.

"frederik knows a guy."

oscar raises an eyebrow. "alright, mate." he pats logan on the back. "liam’s hosting the beer pong. let’s go?”

logan shakes his head, staring at the door with his arms folded over his chest. “later.”

“staring at the door won’t increase the chances of her coming,” oscar hums proudly, patting him on the back. he pushes him through the crowd of college students and massages his shoulder as he tries to find where liam had set up the table. "and anyway, they're coming after pre-drinks."

logan stops in his tracks. "how do you know that?"

oscar steps back with a smirk. "lily told me. did i not update you on that?" he sighs dramatically and rolls his eyes. "must have slipped my mind."

he knew, since the night logan plotted this party, that you and your friends would be pre-drinking before coming here. another reason you're apparently dragging your feet here is for lily – not wanting her to be alone in a frat house.

as honest of a guy oscar tries to keep himself, it doesn't remove suspicion from him trying to take advantage of her. understandable and respectable. so he told you to take your time.

"dude!" logan scowls, shoving oscar back. "that's vital information you should have told me ages ago! i've watched the door like a fucking hawk all night waiting to see if she's coming."

"it's funnier this way," oscar giggles. "also, it's because i'm dating lily."

"you're what? since when? why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"way before you started seeing her. but you're focused on the wrong thing, mate."

"i doubt that, actually."

"oi, beer pong bitches!" liam screams, his hands cupped over his mouth as he beckons for the pair to approach him. he's knelt on a bar stool to catch their attention in the crowd. "logan is up first for the public versus the house."

logan chuckles, slowly making his way towards the beer pong table once more. "are you sure? i'm undefeated, mate," he turns to his friends, "you'll never get your turn if i'm up first."

frederik grins, gesturing towards the rows of red cups filled with sizzling cheap beer. "we wanna see how long you last."

oscar giggles, patting his back. "revenge for making us scramble to put together this party at such short notice."

"and anyway," liam laughs breathily, stumbling into logan's body. he takes a sip from the red cup in his hand. "we have another table for the casual games by the pool."

"and i don't get to play at that table? how rude," logan scoffs, stepping towards the table. he spreads his arms out as he looks around the crowd. "any takers?"

there are a couple who try taking logan down in his own game of beer pong. but as someone who's always in attendance at every party on campus, he's simply mastered the game – how to distract his opponents when he's losing, how to throw them off the game, and how to hit the ball into the cups.

he's figured it all out.

the games pass by very quick, and logan only drinks a couple of cups out of the 6 opponents that are brave enough to step up to the challenge.

"seriously?" logan giggles, slightly intoxicated from the beer. he watches the previous guy walking away, greeted by his group of friends and consolations for a 'nice try'. but logan knows it wasn't a good try. he didn't have a fighting chance at beating him. "where's the real challenge?"

"i could probably beat you."

he hears a chorus of 'oh's from his own friends crowded behind him, lifting his head to meet a pair of blue ones. he sees you first, hands on someone else's body and an arm wrapped around your shoulders. his eyes land on mick, smugly grinning at him with a hand inside the pocket of his jacket nonchalantly.

"yo, isn't that-"

"liam, read the room."

logan doesn't notice lily threading the edge of the makeshift circle over to his side, greeting oscar with a smile. he tilts his head at mick. "you think you can beat me? i'm undefeated, bro."

he sees you whispering something at mick, swatting at him with a small smile. logan knows that look: the flushed cheeks, swollen lips and slightly smudged mascara under your eyes. you'd drunk a little too much during your pre-drinks.

and so do you with logan: the heaving, permanent sly lazy grin and slumped shoulders. you even notice the way he's already slurring at his words.

"mick, should you really be entertaining this?"

mick smiles down at you, squeezing you with a soft shake. "just a bit of fun. we're at a party after all. i'll keep it friendly."

"i know you will. but will he?"

"trust me?"

you tilt your head and lift an eyebrow. you sigh with a small smile, "fine."

"asking for permission?" logan scoffs. "what are you, scared?"

mick scrunches his nose, lifting his hands from you. "no, mate. reassuring her," he smiles. he slowly tears his jacket off of his arms.

logan clenches his jaw at the sheer audacity when mick turns around and hands you his jacket. he feels a wave of anger, something he's never felt before, rising in his chest when mick leans down and presses a quick kiss to your red cheeks.

this might just be jealousy. but it's an emotion so foreign to logan that he doesn't even notice it. in his head, he's just mad that he's lost you to this guy.

someone rumoured to have gotten into the school through his dad’s connections.

"you sure you wanna embarrass yourself in front of her?" logan asks sweetly, biting down on his bottom lip. "one more chance to back out, schumacher."

mick shrugs and steps towards logan. "all in, mate."

"just making sure you don't embarrass your little girlfriend," logan grins, craning his neck slightly and squints his eyes down at you. "you don't want everyone to see him lose to me, do you? you should advise him otherwise."

you don't even get a chance to react before mick steps into logan's line of vision to you. "don't bring her into this."

logan scoffs, eyeing mick up and down. he furrows his eyebrows and tilts his head. "huh?"

"let's keep this friendly?" mick smiles. he extends his hand towards logan.

logan's gaze trails to the hand held out in front of him. he chuckles dryly before turning away, earning another chorus of gasps and shocked whispers around him, walking over to his side of the table. "you know how to play beer pong, don't you?"

mick purses his lips together, retracting his arm before padding over to his spot. "yeah."

liam looks between them, drunkenly filling up the new set of cups with beer. the kiwi can only hope that they keep talking so that he doesn't have to rush with the cups.

"i can teach you if you'd like."

"no, i think i can handle myself."

"alrighty," liam stands, clasping his hands together. "enough yapping. play the stupid game, you guys. it's just beer pong."

logan remembers a time when you used to be in this crowd. cheering for him instead of some random guy you met in one of your classes. you should be on the other side of the crowd next to oscar and arthur.

logan doesn’t do great with losing. if that hasn’t been implied, he doesn’t know any other way to show it.

mick crosses his arms over his torso. “make a shot, reigning champ.”

“i can be generous,” logan scrunches his nose, pressing his lips together. “guests first.”

the boy across the table shrugs. the game doesn’t go by as fast as the previous ones that logan plays. mick was actually true to his word, knowing how to play the game.

logan’s drank more cups than he’s ever in the entirety of the evening. he has to take a couple of deep breaths, staring down at the table when mick hits the ball into the last cup on his side.

he lost. he… lost? how is that possible?

“good game,” mick smiles with a polite nod across the table.

logan scans the table, taking his last cup into his hand. he hadn’t even stood a chance against mick. he still had more than half his set on the table.

mick swiftly turns around, ready to approach you when logan speaks. “one more?”

“mate-“

oscar taps liam on the shoulder, his one arm around lily’s shoulders, and grins. “no, let him do what he wants,” he glances at lily, who is smiling back at him, “i wanna see how this goes.”

“he’s gonna get himself into a fight, oscar,” liam mutters, pointing at logan. “you know him.”

“let him,” oscar shrugs. “he’s an adult — he knows what he’s getting into.”

“one more?” mick asks, halfway towards you. “are you sure?”

“yeah. best of three?”

“logan,” frederik calls out, pressing his lips into a thin line and shaking his head. “mate. he beat you fair and square.”

“no, it’s alright,” mick smiles. “no hard feelings.”

“very hard feelings,” logan mutters to himself, reaching to the side to open a beer can to replenish everything himself. “you stole my girlfriend.”

liam quickly takes over logan, swatting his hands away as he fills one cup sloppily with half of the liquid trickling down the side.

the next game goes by even quicker than before, the entire duration flashing right in front of logan’s eyes. he’s lost again. at least, it was closer this time. it was tied down to one last cup. mick simply played his shot better.

in normal circumstances, maybe logan would have just taken the loss as one would. but this is mick we’re talking about. logan will be anything but diplomatic about it.

“you had me nervous for a moment there!” you giggle. you move your arm out to avoid spilling the cocktail that frederik very graciously mixed for you during the game. “i thought you were going to have to play the third round.”

mick laughs breathily, blinking rapidly with a hand on his chest. “me too. i’m filled with alcohol,” he laughs, sweeping you into his arms. he pressed a sloppy kiss to your cheek, lifting you slightly from the ground. “let’s go whenever you want to?”

“aw, mate,” frederik sighs, heading over to mick. “house rules: the winner stays until defeated.”

“no way,” you whine, jokingly tearing frederik’s hands from mick. “i wanna head to the bar and get another drink with him!”

“fuck this,” logan mutters, throwing the racket down on the table. he snatches the last cup on the table and glances over at you excitedly bouncing as mick swept you up into his arms.

he rolls his eyes, whirling around and heading towards the backyard of the house.

mick hums as you engage in a conversation with frederik, his hand still on your waist. “um, hold on,” he whispers, tapping you gently. “i’ll go check on him. he looks mad.”

you tug on his shirt. “no, he’ll be okay. he’s just a sore loser, mick.”

he laughs, shaking his head as he detaches himself from your grasp. “i just wanna ask him if he’s okay. i’ll meet you guys at the bar.”

you hum hesitantly, letting go of his hands finger by finger. frederik nudges you in the direction of the bar where oscar and lily are already walking towards.

mick steps out into the backyard, hopeful to find the blonde that turned his back on them. while he didn’t frequent petty fights, logan’s reactions are just very entertaining to him. all because he had failed to appreciate your presence when he was blessed with it and mick stepped up to take you out on a date.

and when he was hearing whispers about logan remaining undefeated at the beer pong table, he took up on the chances. perhaps the alcohol made him feel slightly competitive.

he’s ashamed to admit that he let his ego get the best of him and that’s why he stepped up to logan’s challenge.

“mate,” mick announces his presence, slowly approaching logan sitting on one of the sun beds by the pool. “i hope you didn’t take the game to heart.”

“fuck off,” logan mutters, dropping his head low. he picks at the grass under the bed and clenches his jaw. “what are you doing here anyway? shouldn’t you be celebrating with your girlfriend?”

“she’s not my girlfriend.” logan looks up, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “yet.”

“seriously, what’s your deal? have you just come here to parade in my face that you got the girl or something?” logan pushes himself up to his feet. “i get it, man.”

mick sighs. “no. i was checking on you. you look like you had too much to drink there.”

“i don’t need you babysitting me,” logan shakes his head and folds his arms over his chest. “i’m a grown adult.”

“do you need some water? i don’t imagine you feel so good after chugging that much beer,” mick mutters under his breath. “you should really sit down.”

“don’t act like you care.”

“logan,” mick sighs, closing his eyes momentarily to let his frustration pass. “iced or room temp water?”

logan rolls his eyes. “stop acting all saint-like, man. i know you wanna hit me.”

“mate, i do not want to hit you.”

“for sure, you do. you just don’t know it yet.” logan shoves his hands into his pockets. he takes a step forward. “we all know you want to hit me. just do it.”

mick takes note of the step he takes, but stays planted into the ground. “i don’t want to fight you.”

“i know you do. the urge just hasn’t clawed at you yet,” logan grins sloppily. another step forward. “or are you holding back? because she doesn’t like messy guys and you’re scared you’ll lose her it you throw a punch?”

“i’m not holding back. fighting is a waste of time — i don’t like it.”

“she’s very conservative, dude, but she’s very forgiving,” logan nods, looking into the glass doors that lead into the house. he tries to spot you in the crowd but when he doesn’t, he returns his attention to mick. “you’re allowed a couple mistakes.”

“i’m not taking advantage of her like that.”

“i’m not asking you to take advantage of her kindness. i’m telling you that if you need to throw a punch or two, she will definitely forgive you. no need to be scared.”

mick laughs slightly, throwing his hands into the air to surrender. “i’m really not looking to fight with you. that’s beyond me, mate.”

“she appreciates when you let loose a little bit,” logan nods to himself. “why do you think we were going out all those months together? it’s not just cause i won her over with my charm, ya know. she’s got a bit of a wild side, mate.”

mick tilts his head, squinting slightly. he appreciates the extent logan is going to just to rile him up.

“if you don’t know that, then maybe she’s just not comfortable with you.” one more step forward. “i know so well a side of her even you’ve never seen before.”

“do you?”

“yeah,” logan answers in a low tone. he drops his head, one corner of his lips turning up into a smirk. “she’s got that perfect picture smile from a magazine, but you should have seen her when we went to this one party on campus.”

“ah. so?”

“do you know that she gets touchy when she consumes tequila?” logan perks up innocently. “very brave — she’s taken body shots before, you know. off of me?”

“okay? that was a frat party; of course you guys would host that kind of activity. i was there when that happened.”

logan ignores the jabs at the fraternity.

“kissed her yet? in case you haven’t, she tastes like those strawberry mints she always keep a tin of inside her pocket. they’re very minty, but it’s lovely.”

mick grins, pursing his together. “yeah, i know.”

“have you seen her in that one baby doll dress that she likes wearing a lot? what about her yellow sundress that barely covers her thighs?” logan pouts his bottom lip out. “it’s a scene when the wind comes by.”

“mate, you’re kind of crossing a line now,” the german chuckles. “don’t talk about her like that. i know you like her too.”

logan takes another step forward, eager to find that one trigger in mick. “do you know the mole she’s got on her hip? on the left side of her lower back. it’s really really visible when you’re fuc–“

“aw, fuck’s sake!”

logan almost bursts into laughter when he realises what had happened. his back meets the land of grass in the backyard, a pain shooting through his face. when he looks up, a crowd has formed around them during their conversation and liam is already knelt by his side.

lifting his head, he sees mick covering his face with both hands. he runs his hands through his hair as he looks down at logan with wide eyes, hands cupping his warm cheeks. “oh, my god. oh my god.”

oscar and lily pour out of the glass doors with a crowd following them out, the australian raising his eyebrows at his best friend lying back on the ground with a bloody nose.

“logan?” oscar asks, already knowing that he’s probably done or said something to trigger the normally calm headed man in front of him. “what did you do?”

logan scoffs, letting liam help him to sit on the sun bed. “i have the bloody nose and you’re asking me what i did? why don’t you ask him? he hit me.” logan points at mick as he takes the tissues that liam is putting into his hands.

oscar stares at logan. “really? you’re going with that?”

“yeah,” logan grins, glancing at mick. he presses the tissues to his nose, hissing when pain shoots through his face again at the contact. “god, dude. you don’t look like it but you can throw a punch.”

mick nurses his knuckle, taking a couple of steps back. “i know, mate. i’m not stupid.”

you stumble out of the glass doors, heaving as frederik keeps a firm grip on your shoulders. you were in one of the bathrooms upstairs — where it’s exceptionally cleaner — when mick threw the punch (frederik was holding your purse waiting for you outside the door).

when you made your way back down, the crowd inside the house halved. frederik would tap ollie, taking body shots off of someone, asking where everyone had gone.

and ollie, lying back on the table as he put salt on his stomach, pointed to the backyard and muttered something about a possible fight. “logan, maybe,” he muttered before promptly shooing you away.

you look at mick first, who has his shoulders slumped with oscar and lily by his side and is staring at you with guilt all over his face. then you look at logan, being nursed by liam and someone else, with a tissue and an ice pack against his face.

“yeah?” logan perks up with a scoff at you. “can’t pick who to nurse?”

@cashtons-wife @localwhoore @vroomvroomcircuit @foreveralbon @what-is-happening-helpp

#logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant x you #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher x you #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #frat!au

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hungharrington · 7 months ago

Note

Your last blurb has me thinking of Steve and soft early relationship smut where it’s still fairly new and exciting and he’s just so sweet and wants to be close to you 💔💔

this is basically the premise of a little less conversation BUT it’s also such a good prompt anyways that i wanna write something goofy n domestic hehe <3 u put heartbreak emojis but i’m making this goopy sry! and actually it’s not even soft god i’m sorry MDNI this entire blog is 18+

Steve sinks into you in one slow thrust and makes a noise like he’s been stabbed, his forehead to your collarbone.

For one very long moment, he doesn’t move.

“You… you okay?” You ask, all breathy yourself. Your cunt pulses wildly, eager for him to start moving, for some friction— but you’re worried he’s maybe hurt himself somehow. “Steve?”

“I’m good,” He hisses, voice all tight like he is very much not at all good. It blends away as a husky tone threads through his voice. “God, sorry, you just feel—“

He gives a little rock of his hips, pulling out an inch and thrusting back in and a beautiful moan pulls from his lips. He does it again, pulling out a little further and pushing himself back in to your wet, inviting cunt.

He groans again, “Oh my god, I like you so much.”

You startle a laugh, your arms around his neck sliding down so you can pull his head up a bit. Steve’s flushed and looking sheepish by the time you get him face to face. His hips haven’t stopped moving, still small, perfect thrusts in and out, driving you mad.

“Sorry,” He says again, half panting. “Not the best thing to say the first time we fuck but,” He huffs, a throaty moan slipping out in the middle of the sentence. “It’s true.”

You’re beginning to pant too, all your inhales sounding gaspy and high. Your thighs spread more instinctively, pulling them further back to your chest, letting him get in deeper.

“N-No, it’s good,” You say, smiling a bit as he focuses on your face, his lips parted and pupils blown wide. “I really like you too.”

Your words inspire another moan, particularly loud, and his hips rut into you with more fervor, a soft lewd squelching noise beginning to fill the bedroom. Steve moans shakily, peppering sloppy kisses up the side of your neck.

One hand shifts on your hip, sliding up to press your leg further out and unexpectedly, and there’s an audible pop of a joint cracking. Steve stills instantly, still inside you, as he stares down at your hip.

“Oh my god—”

“No, no, it’s fine!” You hastily interrupt, knowing what he’s thinking. You tug his gaze over to you and away from your leg, seeing the smidge of panic in his eyes. “It just cracks sometimes, you couldn’t know that, it’s fine, it didn’t hurt.”

Steve deflates rapidly, giving a relieved chuckle against your chest where he buries his face. When he speaks, his words are all muffled, “I thought I broke your hip.”

You can’t help it, you laugh a bit at that— imagining his panic at the thought. For the third time, you urge his face up and out of hiding, leaning up to nuzzle against his face.

“Quickest way to end a relationship ever,” He jokes, but you can hear the genuine worry beneath his humour.

“No, no, I’m sorry I should’ve told you,” You murmur tenderly, dropping little kisses along his cheeks and nose. His face blazes hot beneath your ardent affection. “But hey, we’re figuring it out, aren’t we? That’s part of the fun, yeah?”

You use your ankles, crossed over his tailbone, to press him into you and Steve gets the message quickly, starting up his gentle thrusts again with a grunt. The soft noises of sex resume, mixed with your combined low moans. The rhythm from before is easy to slip back into. Your cunt throbs hotly, pleasure starting to drool through your stomach.

“Yeah,” Steve breathes heavily, watching your face closely. “Part of the fun. Fuck, you’re so pretty.”

He says it so sincerely that it makes you gasp, clenching around him and eyes screwing closed for a moment. A low whine crawls out your throat.

“God, fuck you for saying that,” You say, with no heat at all. You can’t open your eyes just yet, you’ll combust if you see how handsome he looks right now.

“Yeah?” Steve huffs, sounding a little smug. Your cunt gushes at the sound of his voice. “Oh, you’re right. Figuring this stuff out is the fun part.”

You whine as he fucks in a little harder, the angle just right to have your gut twisting up in pleasure. Your breath is ragged and you finally open your eyes again, swallowing back another sound at the sight of Steve. Messy haired, pink cheeks, reddened lips. He looks hotter than you’ve ever seen him.

“Shut up and hold my hand,” You say— because two can play that game. It works a charm. You can feel the stutter in his hips, see the ripple on his face, hear the whimper in his throat.

Steve keens, tucking his face down into your neck again. His hand searches the sheets til it finds yours, fingers intertwining before he presses your linked hands into the mattress and ruts into your snug cunt harder and faster, deeper.

“F-Fuck,” He stammers, a moan lilting the word. “I like you so much.”

You can’t even laugh this time round because your mind is starting to melt a little at the edges— but it makes the pleasure all that much better, knowing he means it.

#wait i kinda froth this one #it’s fun it’s goofy it’s hot #steve loves to telling u he likes you hehehe #steve harrington x reader #steve x reader #steve harrington #jay writes #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader smut #steve x you #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #fuck titles i hate thinking of them

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twst-aceofhearts · 13 days ago

Text

Caretaker

a/n: Riddle's expression ohmahgosh 아아..~ 너무 귀여우 진짜~ asldkfj pure fluffyyyyyy

pairings: Riddle x Yuu

words: 1595

taglist: @luxaryllis @thegoldencontracts @waterthatsmoe

It started out as a nice time! Yuu was helping out Heartslabyul’s dorm leader by taking care of the hedgehogs with him for the unbirthday party later in the afternoon.

That was until all the hedgehogs started climbing on top of Riddle. They kept chirping for an ounce of attention.

Yuu couldn’t help but let out a few giggles, begging to laugh at the display which caused his face to start turning red. Is he angry or embarrassed…?

“This is not a funny matter!” He attempts to scold them, the hedgehogs trying to climb on top of his head.

“You’re all causing such an unnecessary commotion! Stop climbing on me this instant!” A lot of the adorable creatures continue hanging off his hair. A lot of them crawl down to his shoulders to cling onto him even harder. He ends up succumbing to the tiny beings’ hold, now glaring at Yuu with an annoyed huff.

“What do you want me to do? They keep giving me those stupidly adorable eyes everytime I try to take them off of you. I can’t resist, Riddle. They’re too cute.” Yuu sighed with a small pout.

His face becomes a tomato red, looking away while mumbling something incoherent. Yuu thought they heard a “Shut up!” in there somewhere.

“Rude,” Yuu’s feigned pout increased. “...say ‘cheese’~” A small smirk pulled at the corner of their mouth, pulling out their phone and snapping a picture of the miserable-looking dormhead. Blackmail to send to Ace and Deuce.

Riddle lets out another audible groan. “Why on earth must you take a picture of this? Delete it this instant-!” He’s still not looking at Yuu, he refuses to, completely embarrassed and flustered.

“Mmh…do you want me to delete the picture or get them off of you?”

“You’re going to make me choose?!” He turns to Yuu with a deadpan look. “Get these hedgehogs off of me! This is humiliating enough…” He glares at them, muttering something under his breath.

Yuu pocketed their phone, beginning to scoop the hedgehogs off of him, placing them back into their cage.

Riddle lets out a breath he’s been holding on for a while. He glares at Yuu and gave them a small frown. “Not a single word of this to anyone.”

Yuu gave a sheepish grin, closing the hedgehog cage and flipping the latch. “I make no promises.”

He rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. “I knew I shouldn’t have invited you to tend to the hedgehogs with me.”

“Aw come on, don’t be like that Riddle.”

“How else am I supposed to be? You took pictures of me in such a humiliating state!” Riddle huffed, completely exasperated.

“I’m not gonna do anything with it-!” Yuu paused. “...except make it my wallpaper-”

“Delete the picture,” He says sternly, narrowing his eyes. “I can always tell Trey to stop making you [insert favorite dessert]. So I would advise against keeping it.”

“No fair…”

“Just delete the photo please. I have an image to uphold,” He sighs again, looking a bit more relaxed now that the hedgehogs are away from him. Even so, he has a light blush across his face.

“...no.” Yuu pouted in defiance.

“What? What do you mean no-?” He raised an eyebrow. “Delete. The. Photo,” he growls through gritted teeth. “I don’t think you seem to understand how humiliating it is to be covered by hedgehogs of all things.

“I don’t want to…”

“Too bad,” The redhead walks over, planning to snatch Yuu’s phone from them. “Give me the phone so I can delete it myself.” He reaches his hand out for the cellular device.

Yuu, being a menace, held it over their head, using his (lack of) height to their advantage. [a/n: sry I had to ㅠㅠ]

He lets out a huff, crossing his arms. He gives them a glare, “You know I can just use magic to take the phone from you, right?”

“Yeah, but then that’d be stealing—it’d be against the school rules.”

“You took pictures of me without my permission. Isn’t that also against the rules?” He scoffs and reaches his hand out for the phone again.

“...touche.”

Riddle sighed and rolled his eyes, “Why do insist on keeping such a horrible photo anyway…?”

“It’s not horrible. I like it—seriously, I really do.” Yuu’s tone softened, their voice dropping a murmur.

“...You’re joking, right?” The blush on his face grew, spreading across his cheeks. He looked at Yuu, trying to see if they’re being serious by the tone of their voice.

“...I just said I’m serious—”

“Well, I don’t get why you like it so much. I…I look…undignified…” Yuu could tell he thinks if Ace or someone else saw the picture, he’d never hear the end of it.

Yuu clenched their jaw and swallowed before replying, “That’s..kind of the point? Only I get to see you like that.”

“You…-huh?” His eyebrows furrow, a flustered mess simultaneously though. “W-Why would you want to be the only one to see me like that..?”

“...personal…reasons.”

“What personal res-” He pauses, putting two and two together, flushing an even brighter shade of red, almost blending in with his hair color. “Are you trying to say that me being..uh-... embarrassed…is somehow attractive to you…?”

“W-what? Psh, no…where’d you get that idea from–?” Yuu looked down, unavailingly hiding their red cheeks.

“You-” He points an accusing finger at them. “You…think…my embarrassing-...moments are cute..?” He looks like he wants to hide under a rock right about now.

“W-well, I wouldn’t put it like that—” Yuu was equally, if not more flustered now. How the tables have not turned.

“How would you put it then?” He crosses his arms, still looking away from Yuu.

“It’s…endearing.”

“E-endearing?” He seems to have finally composed himself, then turning to look back at Yuu. “...I’ve never heard anyone use that to describe me before…” He looked away again, a small smile on his face this time.

“There’s a first for everything,” Yuu shrugged, managing to fan the warmth out of their cheeks.

“I suppose there is,” He lets out a soft chuckle. “The day you find me adorable though, is the day I eat a tart with ingredients other than strawberries.”

“...technically strawberry tarts are made with other ingredients, you know. The crust—”

“Stop speaking,” He gave Yuu a deadpan expression, pointing a finger at them.

Yuu pouted, but they shut up anyway.

“Better,” He gave Yuu the tiniest of smiles. “I’ll…let you keep the photo. On one condition.” A soft smirk appeared on his face—the first and last they’ll ever see.

Yuu raised an eyebrow, their eyes sparkling. “Really? What?”

He motions for Yuu to come closer. “Just come a bit closer first~”

“...you sound like you’re up to something. Who are you and what have you done to Riddle?”

“Hush, just come here,” he laughs lightly, motioning them to come closer once more. He’s blushing slightly again, his smile genuine now.

When Yuu gets over to him, he tilts their chin with one hand. He gets a little bit closer, leaving only a bit of space between them. He smiles, a bit more mischievous than before.

Yuu furrowed their eyebrows. “I knew it…you’re up to something…”

“Oh, don’t be like that. Close your eyes,” he chuckles softly, sounding more teasing than before.

“Why…?”

“No questions. Just close them,” he sighs, giving Yuu another smile. “Please?”

“...Fine. But if you collar me or something, I will be really upset.”

“Don’t worry, no collars involved,” He laughs again before bringing Yuu’s chin up to look more at him. Now that Yuu had closed their eyes, he leans in, planting a light kiss on their cheek. His lips lingered there for a few moments, before stepping away. “You can open them now.”

Yuu’s eyes fluttered open, their cheeks flushing slightly as their hand stuttered, reaching up to graze the spot where he had kissed.

“Cute,” he states it matter of factly. “Now that wasn’t so horrible, was it?”

“...what…what was that for…?”

“Isn’t it obvious? It’s payback for taking embarrassing pictures of me,” he smirks, letting out a quiet laugh. “Also because I wanted to see you all flustered,” he chuckles again, turning around to take out the hedgehogs of the cage once more.

Yuu watched him pick up a hedgehog, a small blush on their face. They pulled out their phone, holding it in their hand hesitantly for a moment, before making up their mind.

“...Hey, Riddle. Can you look over here and smile?”

Riddle turns to Yuu, looking at them with a raised eyebrow. “What for?”

“..seflie,” They mutter, a bit shyly.

“Oh..fine, only this once,” He sighs, but he’s smiling as he walked back to Yuu. “Ready when you are,” he closes his eyes and holds the hedgehog with two hands.

The little hedgehog in his hands is snoozing away, not caring about the picture. Doesn’t matter, it still looks cute.

After Yuu took the picture, Riddle opened his eyes and looked at them. “Can I see?” He looks curious and a bit embarrassed about how it came out.

“Hold on…” Yuu muttered, switching their lockscreen to that very picture, before flipping their phone around and showing him.

He nods and looks at the picture, his eyes scan the picture before he smiles. “I look…tolerable,” He laughs lightly and moves a hand up to mess with the back of his own hair. “Well, at least you have a more…decent version of me on your phone now, don’t you?”

“Yes… I like this one a lot better.”

credit to @cafekitsune for the divider

#athena fics #twisted wonderland #twst #twst yuu #riddle rosehearts #twst riddle #riddle x yuu

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voidcat · 1 month ago

Text

i. welcome to summoners rift

characters: narumi gen, gn!reader

a/n: the game i had in mind while writing this is league of legends.. boo i know. anyways i tried to keep the LoL terms down so itll be easier to understand. reader is implied to be a part of first division- part time operations leader but more involved in data collecting and medical side of things, (I’ll decide fully later)

. i need to make this pathetic loser suffer in games so bad its not even funny anymore... first of many more fics to come im afraid

The first few times to play it safe and because it’s what you’re used to, you take a generic support class— Seraphine got crowd control, enough damaging spells to trigger a DoT or do some extra last minute damage, provides shield, speed and health.

A well balanced support and pretty, Narumi cannot help but think as the Seraphine on his screen hits ctrl+3 and dances for the third time while waiting for the opposing team to make a move. You seem to know what you’re doing, you placed wards, dance when it seems idle but keeping your attention enough to cut it when you suspected an ambush few times. Plus it’s one of the most recent skins you got for the champ so he knows you know how to play the champion, despite your low score on her-

After all, not everyone has been playing this damn game for 5 to 10 years now, a newbie is no problem as long as they know how to play and show it. You leave the minions to him, heal him at critical moments the enemies thought he was dying so he can attack back and get them one by one— you’re good, and you’re especially good with him.

By the time the entire team gathers on the same lane, pushing to the opposing team’s base, you send your ult at the perfect moment, charming four enemies at once and creating the dream situation of any player.

Well, the rest of your team slowly dies because of heavy damage over time they took but it’s alright. The screen says in big letters: PENTA KILL! With his champion icon right under it, and in the game chat even the opposing team congratulates him, saying it was insane game play.

Then Narumi hears that same melody since the beginning of the game whenever you hit the dance animation and a new message in the game chat:

> victory dance for that lovely penta ( *｀ω´)

Reading the message, he watches your champion dance with his eyes glued to the screen, heat rising up to his face… absolutely adorable is what it is. Standing there with his champion, he then hits ctrl+3 as well to join you on the dance, letting the minions carry on.

The game is about to end, the opposing team begs in the chat to not end, to keep playing, meanwhile his team makes some jokes referencing early minutes of the match. Then at the last second, Narumi quickly types in and hits send.

The chat box reads: ‘support diff’

Before queuing up for another game, his hand acts on impulse and invites you to the lobby.

And to his surprise, you accept!

The sound of message notifications reaches his ears short after and he quickly reads over.

>awww >seems like someone enjoyed my presence;P

Adorable and cheeky, this just might be his best in game interactions by far. without a word, he queues up another game and another, the night goes on.

messages from you in-game keep on coming, at one point he thinks to himself "what he hell is a fryslan bop" to which you just send a keyboard smash followed by a "its a song lol"

so you are a chatter, he gathers quickly. not often but when you do, you send in a lot. he soon catches up to when you're actually talking versus spamming a song's lyrics while having Seraphine dance in your stead.

until you cancel the queue start up and send a message.

>gotta go >its late >booo >we jst got started >work tmr sry T-T

with a sigh, he watches as you leave and tries playing another match, but for some reason during the entirety of the match, he has no fun.

when you log into your game accounts in the evening, relieved to have an easy day, you notice a few friend request. "kaijuslayer"

you click accept and before you can open another tab, you instantly receive a lobby invite. its unreal how quick this person is... and how much he enjoys gaming, apparently. with no plans for the night and no desire to do anything else, you accept the invite.

Narumi is over the clouds to see not only has his request being accepted but also his invite too. gaming is more fun when you are winning, and thus playing with people who know what they're doing. you pick the same champion again and accomodate to his various picks, supporting him however he needs. it's perfect, it's distracting. while the two of you wait for the client to find another match, you begin to talk. since it's a friday, he tries his shot and asks if you'll stay for longer this time.

>nah >my v much serious v grownup job has saturdays too >and awfully early waking hours >sucks to b u> v serious v grownup huh >yea? >im starting to suspect u might b a child >OLIFSDJFIGOJSDOLŞGJSDFOLŞG >the calls coming from inside the house

before Narumi can send a reply, the 'match found' screen pops up and the two of you leave it there.

the match starts off smooth. he's farming a good amount, the two of you reached level 6 before the others, and as the opposing lane tries an ambush, you hit them with your ult, charming them in the process. as narumi begins to unleash his combo, your slowing down waves slither there gently, quitely. then follows your shield and speed buff, and right before his very eyes, your now-powered-up-double skill hits the enemies and the screen reads: "TRIPLE KILL" with your icon next to it.

as much of an ideal support as Seraphine is, Narumi remembers the fact all too painfully that Seraphine was first released as a midlaner... a very much capable AP damage unit if built that way. a part of wants to see, and a part of him is afraid of what he might see if he goes to check which items you have purchased- or if it was a brilliant calculation by itself.

as Narumi stares at the screen, Seraphine dances again, sometimes ending the animation to go around him. seeing him frozen for far too long, you ping him few times. as if his misery, and his kills stolen wasnt bad enough already, your team's jungle has the audacity to send a message to in-game chat. 'supp diff'’

complimenting his support? his duo? Narumi begins to see red.

as you begin to teleport back to the base, you send an emote of one of the characters, tongue poking out, winking and doing a peace sign.

and on his side of things, narumi gen cannot find it in him to stay mad at the turn of events- because just look how endearing and cute you are! it's alright if you took a kill or two by accident, you're still his support, his duo after all!

despite the... technical errors, the game ends in another victory and with you doing a victory dance again, now pinging him if he's staying idle until he joins you as well. his heart cannot take it. it's too much... and as if you are dead set on being the final blow, you send cute emotes, and whenever he sends one back, you reply with another, it goes and goes until the matches end.

a flood of message notification sounds brings him back to earth again.

>heeeey >r u gonna start the queue some time this year? >oh btw pick a color

puzzled at the last message, he says a color, not expecting much out of it. until he sees you have picked another skin with the chroma he said. candy and teeth- you are so adorable and charming, so bad for his poor health. waiting in your lane, you begin the dancing animation again and narumi grins at the screen, watching you dance.

oh no, this is bad. this is pathetic even for him now... he cannot be possibly finding some gamer maybe across the country, someone he never saw nor even heard the voice of charming...

maybe that annoying part time operations leader was right about his... pent up frustration... if he's this down for a game model supposedly representing a person, maybe you had a point when you implied he goes to seek some action and revive himself of whatever's been building up down there.

there is no way he can let anyone learn about this- worst of all, you. with your stoic face and condescending eyes, you'd never let him live that down.

Him! Narumi Gen! the first division captain and the strongest anti-kaiju combatant! he'd rather die than give you the satisfaction of knowing he's so desperate to get some sort of friction he's starting to mix an online person with the character they're playing.

aggressive pings snap him out of his running thoughts and he realizes he's a little behind game-play wise.

now, looking over at the match stats, it doesn't seem all to unsalvageable. he better get to it, there's a match to win and a lovely duo to impress.

#narumi gen #kaiju no. 8 #narumi gen x reader #narumi x reader #narumi x you #narumi gen x you #kaiju no. 8 x reader #kn8 x reader #the hedgehog’s dilemma.series

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cinnaleaf · 1 month ago

Text

ESSENCE OF US - CH 9: RED CARD* [ft. Jude & Jules]

Please read responsibly. This fic will get hot and heavy as the story progresses, 18+ only MDNI | READ CH 8 | MASTERLIST | READ CH 10

summary: a fleeting encounter with a mysterious Trent leaves you wondering if fate is playing a bigger match. your paths continue to cross in unexpected places as the fragrances around you mirror the growing tension between you. maybe it's just a coincidence..or maybe its destiny in the making.

warnings: ANGST, SMUT, unprotected sex, language, mentions of anxiety, alcohol use genre: angst, fluff, slow(ish) burn romance, brief smau wc: ~12.6k 💌: gala fits were made up in this dizzying head of mine so no links sry. also finally made visuals lol

“Why are you packed like you’re going on tour with Adele?” Trent teased, sitting on the edge of your bed as you tossed multiple outfits into your already overflowing suitcase. You pulled a face at him, glaring playfully. “I have to have options! I can’t have people one upping me at an event like this. Camille will never let me live it down. I need backup fits for my backup fits. I have to plan for any and every thing.”

Trent shook his head, laughing under his breath. “I’m just saying.. we’re only going to be there for a day or two max and you’ve prepared for a month long holiday.” You threw a dress at him, laughing as it landed on top of his head. “Shut up! You just don’t get it. I’m stressed enough just thinking about what to wear to the after party.” You paused, biting your lip, knowing Trent would be a little jealous with your next remark.

“Camille invited Jules Koundé..he’s such a fashionable man. Honestly, he’s gonna be the best dressed at the gala, I know it.”

Trent scoffed, his face displaying a vexed expression. “Nah. It’s going to be me. Jules won’t have shit on my outfit.” You burst out laughing at his confidence, doubling over in giggles. Trent did okay when it came to popping out with different fits, but it wasn’t anything remotely compared to Jules level of execution. “Baby..I’m so sorry to say this but...no one is outdressing Jules. I’ll let you believe you are if it makes you feel better though.” You smirked at Trent, egging him on more in a playful manner. “He literally wore cream on his body as a top and looked good wearing it..if you can top that, then you need to be modelling off the pitch.”

Trent kissed his teeth, muttering something about how your hype for Jules’ outfit was a little too much. You chuckled as you shifted your attention back to your suitcase, carefully arranging the pile of clothes scattered around the bedroom. “Anyway, Camille’s after parties are legendary. Once all the uppity people go to bed, the real fun begins. Open bar, great music..it’s my favorite part.”

Trent leaned back on the bed, placing his arms behind his head as he relaxed, his gaze landing on your ass while you were leaned over. “Yeah? You gonna outdress everyone there too so I can rip it off you later?” You shot a look at him as you glanced over your shoulder, trying to hide your smile. “See, this is exactly why I need multiple outfits. You’re a menace.”

Trent got up from the bed to make his way over to you, slipping his arms around your waist from behind. “You haven’t had any complaints yet..” His lips brushed your soft skin as his hands moved to caress the curve of your hips. “Baby….” you breathed out shakily, feeling your pulse increase when his lips gently sucked the skin beneath your ear.

“Hmm?”

You turned around quickly, pulling him in for a proper kiss. Well, it was supposed to be a ‘proper kiss’, but things definitely escalated from there. His mouth moved against yours with pure passion as his tongue slid past your lips, dancing magnetically with yours. You ran your hands over his curls, pulling him closer. His hands roamed to your ass to grip it firmly. Your lips parted slightly to let out a soft moan; Trent tugged at your bottom lip with his teeth before slipping his tongue back in your mouth. Both of you were absolutely intoxicated from the passion of it all. You slid your hands down to his torso, reaching up under his shirt to graze your fingers over the peaks of his abs, feeling the way his heated muscles tensed under your fingertips. You smiled into the kiss, loving the way his body was reacting to your touch. Trent bit back a groan and tightened his grip on you. He slipped a hand into your hair, tugging your head back gently to splay a trail of kisses down your throat which made your entire body feel hot against his lips.

“T-Trent..we need to leave soon,” you pant, making no move to push him away at all.

“Yeah, I know..” he whispered against your neck, making absolutely no effort to pull away either. “We still have time though..” He pushed you against your makeup vanity as you continued to makeout, neither of you noticing your perfume notebook teetering on the upper edge as it slid between the back of the vanity and wall. You moaned against his lips when you felt his hands reach up to massage your chest. “We don’t have that much time,” you said breathlessly, finally pulling away from him. He let out a frustrated sigh but stepped back, his eyes gazing at you while you tried to gather yourself. “Finish packing then, you tease” he grumbled, though you could tell he was joking.

“Thank you,” you said, mind still spinning from your mini makeout sesh. You were still testing out the vanilla and amber perfume you created, which seemed to have an insatiable effect on him.

What the fuck did I put in that perfume? Oh my god..

Once you returned to your suitcases to finish packing, something felt off. You were forgetting something and you couldn’t figure out what. You stood there for a minute, furrowing your brows as you looked around the room until you realized you couldn’t find your perfume diary.

“Wait..where’s my notebook? The lavender one?”

“You probably packed it already,” Trent assured you. “You packed a lot of shit baby. It’s probably in one of these suitcases somewhere.”

“I don’t remember packing it though..” you said, tearing through your luggage as your frustration built. “I can’t leave without it..it’s got all the formulas for the collection I was working on. Fuck.. Where is it?” Trent came up behind you again, resting his chin on your shoulder as he lazily eyed the open suitcases, attempting to help you look. “Relax. You’ll find it.” You sighed, feeling panic rise. “I hope so..I really need that or else I’m going to have to start over. I only have the Rêveur formula on the sticky note. I can’t remember them all.”

You still hadn’t seen the love note he left you on the random page in your notebook. Little did you know, during the steamy makeout sesh, your precious notebook fell between the wall, out of sight, but not out of mind. You huffed and puffed, frantically searching for the notebook before eventually giving up.

“I’m telling you, I bet it’s in your luggage baby.”

You pouted, crossing your arms as Trent kissed the top of your forehead. “We’ll find it later..but we need to leave before Camille jets off without us. You know how she is.”

“Ugh. I know,” you sighed, still visibly anxious about your missing notebook. You zipped up the last suitcase, taking one last look before heading towards the door. “I really hope this gala goes smoothly. No drama, pleaseee.”

“With Jude there? Debatable.” Trent snickered, heading to the car with your bags to go to the airport.

After your arrival at the airport, you and Trent stood in front of the plane, finally uploading the ‘Tea with T ’ video across all your socials. Your heart started racing when you hit the post button on Instagram. Your hands were shaking slightly, you didn’t know why you were so nervous about a silly little video, it really shouldn’t have been that big of a deal. It was your idea after all. Next to you, an unphased Trent was already sliding his phone back into his pocket.

Seriously? How is he so unbothered with this? He’s so annoying.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t resist the urge to refresh the app multiple times, hoping to glance at any initial reactions. Trent looked over at you, nudging you with his elbow. “Chill. You’ll turn into a mad woman looking at those comments.” He reached for your phone, tucking it away in his pocket next to his phone. “Just enjoy the flight baby.”

“I knowww. I just want everything to be perfect.. but I also kinda want to know what everyone’s thinking right now.”

Trent leaned into you, placing a quick peck on your cheek as you walked toward the steps of the plane. “It will be perfect. Just go with the flow, we’ll look later if you really want to.” You bit your lip slightly, nodding as you walked up the steps to meet the crew.

“Welcome aboard, Mr. and Mrs. Alexander-Arnold,” the greeter said as you stepped on the plane.

“Huh?! Wh-Wait. that’s not.. Uh, we’re not—” your pathetic attempt to let the crew know you were not Mrs. TAA went unheard as Trent laughed, shaking his head. “Got a nice ring to it, yeah? Y/N Alexander-Arnold?”

“T, don’t start..”

The flight to Switzerland was surely going to be interesting. Trent was already getting on your nerves with his antics, and there surely was more to come with to all the different personalities on the flight—Camille, the twins, and Jude. Once the twins saw you walk down the aisle, Ezzie darted over to you, wrapping her arms around you and Trent. “Finally! I was starting to think we’d never meet!” She pulled back, furrowing her brow in deep thought as she eyed Trent, and then you. “Very aesthetically pleasing couple. I ship it.”

“Nice to meet you Ezzie. Hope I’m not hogging her too much.”

Ezzie rolled her eyes playfully, plopping back into her seat. “You kinda are..but it’s whatever. I’ll allow it for now since she looks happy.” She pulled out her phone, scrolling through social media before glancing up at Trent again, speaking in a deadpan tone. “I will drag you if you hurt her. I have a lot of followers y’know..”

Ziggy hung back, crossing his arms while he eyed you and Trent. In his mind, he thought he looked so scary, but the boy had the softest baby face ever. Nevertheless, he persisted, giving Trent a head nod without nearly the amount of excitement Ezzie showed. “You good?” he mumbled, shifting his gaze to Trent’s hand resting on your waist. Trent was unphased though, and offered Ziggy a smile. “Yeah, mate. I’m good. You?”

Ziggy shrugged, eyeing Trent up and down like he was trying to decide if he approved of him or not. “I guess we’ll have to see,” he muttered, slumping back in his seat with an agitated look. You shot him a squinty glance, mouthing at him to stop, but Ziggy smirked as he pulled the strings of his hoodie into a bow. “Just keeping shit real. I don’t know him like that” he retorted.

“Z..stop. Seriously” you huffed, fighting a grin. It was kind of adorable watching your brother act so protective over you. Him and Trent had similar interests, yet Ziggy couldn’t be bothered to strike up a conversation about any of that; He only wanted to size Trent up to see if he was good enough for you. His protective big-little brother act was endearing, yet hilarious.

“Just looking out for you,” Ziggy said, peering out the window as a different plane made its way down the runway.

“He’s fine, Ziggy. You’re worse than me,” Ezzie cut in. Ziggy rolled his eyes, shoving her in the seat next to him as they started mocking each other, marking the start of an incredibly dumb argument, making you and Trent laugh.

“For fuck’s sake, please shut up. Buy 1..Get 1 Free – you two are annoying me already and we aren’t even in the sky yet,” Camille rang out, entering the plane fashionably late with a wine bottle in hand, looking every part of a diva. Jude walked in behind her, flopping into one of the seats to stretch out his long legs. “Damn Camille, do you even know what economy is? This jet is fucking insane.” Camille cut her eyes at him, leaning against the seat—quick with a witty comeback, “Jude, babe, you can’t even drive without your mummy there, so is there really a huge difference between us?” She peered out the window, continuing to mock him, “Maybe I should’ve invited her instead. She’s a bit more stylish than you anyway..”

Camille and Jude were equally as annoying as Ezzie and Ziggy, arguing back and forth about who was more spoiled than the other. Truth be told, they were both extremely spoiled, but neither of them would ever admit it. Ezzie was excited about the gala, scrolling through Pinterest as she began gushing about the heels she was going to wear. “Mum finally let me order René Caovilla, I got the ones with the butterflies that wrap around! Also…a boy at school may have asked me on a date for next week,” Camille overheard the conversation, chiming in to dish out some girl talk. “Oooh, is he cute? Don’t let Z scare him away.” “Camille.. Do I look like a girl who would go on a date with someone ugly? C’mon..you know me.”

You laughed at Ezzie and Camille’s antics, knowing neither of them were girls who would hold back on their opinions. “So, does that mean you said yes? What are you going to wear on the date? And what’s his name?” you asked, continuing the conversation, wanting to know every little detail as the plane took off.

Ziggy was glued to his phone the entire time, until he finally looked up and bluntly switched his attention back to Trent. “Don’t fuck things up with my sister Trent. Or else..”

Jude chimed in, wanting to instigate the situation as he rummaged through the snacks. “I told him the same thing bro. Y/N can do better, huh?”

“Ziggy. Jude. Fuck off” you exclaimed, shooting daggers at both of them. Jude cackled, throwing a snack over to Camille. Ziggy shrugged, not bothered by your reaction at all. “Everyone’s thinking it.”

You shook your head, turning to Trent to place a kiss on his cheek. “Well, unfortunately for you.. I don’t think he’s going anywhere anytime soon. So, you need to get over it.”

The rest of the flight was full of laughter and conversation as the plane cruised to a higher altitude. Jude and Ezzie got into a competitive game of mancala, though neither of them seemed to know what the hell they were doing, which made it even funnier.

“How the fuck do we play this? I’m so confused,” Jude scrunched up his face, looking over at Trent for some help. “Mate, I know you know how to play this. Are we supposed to count them or what?”

“Wait..where am I supposed to put the marbles again? How do we know who’s winning?” Ezzie said, looking just as confused as Jude.

Trent laughed at both of them, slinking out of his seat to join them and show them how it was supposed to be done. You sat in your seat, wine glass in hand, starting to wonder what people were saying about the ‘Tea with T’ video you uploaded before the flight. Your phone was in airplane mode somewhere in one of Trent’s pockets, but the feeling of not knowing what people were saying was eating you alive. It probably wasn’t healthy to feast off social media like that, but you wanted to know. You could only imagine the reactions from the various accounts online.

Somewhere below the plane, people were enjoying seeing you and Trent in a new light:

MamaTAA: Proud of you both! Can’t wait for Rêveur to launch!

LFC4lyfe_: This was hilarious! But we all know Y/N was behind this video. Trent could never think of this himself and neither could Tyler. 😂

VirgilFans: Y/N saying Ibou and Virgil are funnier than Trent! WE STAN A QUEEN WITH TASTE!

JudeBellingham: I want my own too Y/N. Call it Bellingoal 👀

EzzieBee: This is so cute 😍

ZiggyYLN: nah cool it with the gobble up comment..

footygirl2003: omg i defo thought this was a pregnancy announcement i almost passed away 😂

TeaWithT_stan: Can we make Tea with T a regular thing? This is gold✨

SpillTheBeansUK: Anything else you want to share with us Y/N & T? 👀

PerfumeBabe: Y/N really created Rêveur while getting swept off her feet. Need that energy for me

footiefan_66: I don’t care that something good happened to you, it should’ve happened to me instead!!

yntrent_stans: They literally spent the whole video yapping and giggling. Relationship goals frfr

ReveurRebel: The way everyone in this video is cracking up..this cured my depression

66_luvclub: saving this chat...

SpillTheRooibos: Hold onn.. where’s the tarot reader now? lmao she was WRONG this time 👀

IbouK: Where’s my Rêveur bottle? Thought we were brothers

miumiuofficial: Love with the look Y/N! Check your DM, we sent you something special✨💌

fanacct_taa: WAITTTT they finally follow each other now? Took long enough

bodylanguagexpert21: i watch a lot of videos on tiktok and the way his hand is on her knee? primal instinct. knee touch? he’s saying ‘she’s mine respectfully’. also they keep finishing each other’s sentences soo...they’re in deep

66DreamerCrew: She said ‘my man is my fav’ and I FELT THAT

From the looks of it, the video was a hit. People were loving the banter, the laughs, and the reveal of Rêveur, but you had no idea. You took in the view of the private jet. Being in the clouds made it feel like a world that was far removed from reality, but you were all sitting there chatting it up like it was just an ordinary day; the Swiss Alps blanketed the windows of the plane.

You and Ezzie were in deep conversation about fashion, she was showing you the various dresses she packed, asking for your opinion on each one. “What do you think about this one? Or..maybe this one?” she said, swiping through her phone. “What should I wear to the after party? Ugh. I really can’t decide.” Camille laughed, critiquing every piece like she was Anna Wintour. “That one is cute…but you’re definitely not going to the after party babe. You two talk way too much and it’s adults only.” Ezzie sighed, leaning back in the seat as she scrolled through her phone. “Just three more years..”

Meanwhile, Ziggy glanced up when he noticed you in Trent’s lap, he gave you a tender kiss with his arm around your waist.

“So you’re just going to do all that for everyone to see?”

You immediately rolled your eyes, pulling Trent’s arm away to sit back in your seat so Ziggy would shut up. “Will you stop? He’s my boyfriend. You have to get over it, my god.”

“Doesn’t mean I want to look at it.”

Trent glanced over at Ziggy before turning back towards you, smiling. “I think he’s warming up..”

When the plane started its descent to St. Moritz, you stared out the window, taking in the breathtaking view. Switzerland was so beautiful that is almost felt fake. The Alps stretched beneath the plane, its peaks powdered with snow. No picture could ever do this place justice, you had to see it to believe it. It was so breathtaking, it almost made you forget about the event that was waiting for you tomorrow.

Badrutt’s Palace Hotel stood on a hill, overlooking Lake St. Moritz like a scene straight out of a storybook. The peaks of the Swiss Alps framed the horizon with golden hued powdered tips from the sunset. This place was unbelievable and felt like something you would see in a movie. You were high altitude, yet the air was crisp and refreshing, every breath making you become one with nature. It smelled faintly of cedarwood and pine, like nature's own perfume wafting around you with every breath.

Right outside the hotel, streets were filled with a parade of the most expensive cars, each one more expensive than the last. The International Concours of Elegance event was also happening during the gala. You weren’t a huge car person, but you could tell these cars were out of the ordinary–cars that belonged to millionaires, maybe even billionaires. There was a Maserati with glossy paint that looked like it could tear through the mountain clad snowy roads with ease. Next to it was a classic Aston Martin oozing in luxury. A few spaces down was a bright red Ferrari Testarossa; it was the kind of car that would turn anyone’s head. The car that caught your eye the most was the Shelby Cobra parked at the end of the line, its candy red paint glistened under the reflection of light with intricate chrome detailing.

“Camille..you said this was going to be more demure this year,” you giggled, not believing what you were seeing. Her parents bought out the entire hotel for a couple of nights; They were extra as hell, but you knew their definition of luxury was a lot different from yours. You didn’t mind it though, they were generous and made sure all kinds of people got to experience the luxury they often basked in, this was what the charity gala was all about after all. “We did tone it down this year..we have half of St. Moritz to ourselves. That’s still pretty intimate” she chirped, entering the hotel.

Badrutt’s Palace was cream of the crop. It resembled a castle, the stone tapering points stretched towards the sky. Inside, the decor was posh with sweeping views of the mountain from every corner. You could hear the strumming of a harp playing from the lobby, where the staff greeted guests with trays of champagne and fondue. This was world class hospitality at its finest. You felt like you were stepping into a snow globe, feeling isolated in the best way possible. The spa was supposed to have the best view, and you knew you were going to have to take advantage of that during your short stay. This place was something you had to see to believe, no description did it justice.

“What do your parents do again?” Jude asked, intrigued by his surroundings as he double fisted two glasses of champagne. “This is the craziest shit I’ve ever experienced.”

“My dad works in private equity..my mum was a fashion mogul back in the ’90s..but now she just lives life,” her voice was flat, not really impressed by his question. She didn’t love talking about her parents’ careers because everyone always came to the worst assumptions, which she hated, being a nepo baby and all.

“Lives life?”

Camille shot him a glance, rolling her eyes as she shook her head. “She spends my dad’s money and I help with that..occasionally.” Ziggy perked up, not missing a beat in the banter. “Me and Ezzie spend Y/N’s money too.” You laughed, shoving your brother playfully. “No..it’s more like the both of you are robbing me. But I’ll get my lick back when you’re signed..don’t worry.”

After a few more minutes of conversation, the group headed to their rooms to relax. Everyone else had rooms on the opposite end of the hall, while you and Trent were furthest away in a suite–it was obvious why. Camille eyed both of you as you walked towards your respective rooms. “I’m guessing I won’t be seeing you two the rest of the night?” she joked, giving you a knowing look. “Honestly, I’m so tired. I’m probably just going to rest,” you replied, yawning.

When you entered the suite, you paused for a moment, looking around the room with your mouth agape. The room was huge and had sweeping views of the mountains, it also featured a balcony that floated above the frozen lake. Trent dropped your bags on the floor, coming up behind you to smack your ass playfully. “Trent!” you yelped, glaring at him while trying to hide your smile.

“Sorry, couldn’t stop myself,” he said with a smirk, wrapping his arms around you as he walked you outside to the balcony. You could feel his heartbeat thumping softly against your back while you took in the breathtaking view. “So beautiful, just like you baby,” he murmured against your ear, brushing his lips against your skin. “We need to come back when it’s not so cold so we can take full advantage of this balcony.” You giggled as his lips travelled down to your neck. “Mmm..I need to unpack..can you chill for a second” you tried to protest, but your voice became weak when he started nibbling on a spot on your neck that drove you wild. Trent turned you around, gently wedging you between the balcony and himself. He trailed soft kisses from your neck to your lips, his lips glistening. He licked your lower lip, grazing his teeth over them lightly.

“You’re sooo…” you breathed out, letting out a shaky laugh. You didn’t want him to stop, but you really did need to unpack. You had to figure out what to wear tomorrow, and possibly find the notebook that had seemingly disappeared out of thin air.

“Hmm? I’m what? Talk to me baby” he whispered between kisses, littering your skin with the softness of his lips. “We have plenty of time to unpack y’know,” He punctuated his words with the sweetest love bites down your neck, just enough to make you debate whether you really cared as much as you were letting on. He brought his lips back to yours and you could taste the sweetness of the champagne from earlier when he deepened the kiss. Eventually, you managed to pull away, taking a deep breath as you smiled at him. “If you let me unpack now, I promise it will be worth it later.” Trent smirked, giving you one last kiss before releasing you. “Oh yeah? C’mon then.”

You both sorted through your luggage, but you still couldn’t find the notebook. You frowned, crossing your arms. “Ughhh, I really don’t think I packed it.” Trent glanced over at you, getting up to search through one of your bags to help. After a couple of minutes of searching, he stopped, holding onto something with an amused look splattered across his face. It wasn’t your notebook, but he was surely intrigued.

“Y/N, what’s this?” he asked, holding up a vibrator. “You remembered to pack this but not your notebook?”

You tried to hold in your laughter but burst into a fit of giggles. “I pack that every time I travel” you said, trying to snatch it from his hands while he played with the settings. “Put it back!”

Trent held it up above his head, enjoying your slight embarrassment. “Why do you need this when you have me? I’m not satisfying you enough?” You put your hands on your hips, shrugging as you bit your lip. “Think of it as a teammate, not an enemy” you teased, winking at him.

“Oh yeah? I don’t think I need any help but we’ll see..”

You shivered at his comment, knowing full well tonight would be anything but productive. Camille and everyone else would definitely not be seeing you the rest of the night.

After a while, you and Trent decided to take a bubble bath together to enjoy your mini holiday. Lavender scented bubbles enveloped both of you as you leaned against the edge, closing your eyes to relax and enjoy the warmth of the water. Trent was across from you, his large hands massaging the arches of your feet. “You good over there?” Trent asked, smiling at you with a playful glint in his eye.

“Yesss, feels like I’m in heaven right now” you sang softly with your eyes still closed. “How are you so good at everything?” He gripped your foot tighter, laughing at your reaction. “Just trying to help you relax, my love.” You opened your eyes, smiling at the sight of the bubbles clinging to his skin under the low light. “I feel like I don’t deserve you sometimes..” you admitted quietly, but he heard you.

“What? Why would you say that?” He paused the massage, looking at you directly. You pulled your legs back, shifting slightly to sit up. “You’re just too sweet to me. I feel like I don’t do enough for you in return..I don’t know..”

“Nah, if anything I feel like I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you. I’m always scared I’m going to fuck something up and lose you.” You pouted your lips at his words, shifting in the tub to crawl across the water and sit on his lap; He wrapped his arms around your hips, and you draped your arms over his shoulders, kissing him softly to savour the taste of his lips. “Well..if fate is on our side, that won’t happen, right?”

“Right. Nothing could ever keep us apart” he murmured back, brushing his hands against your spine as his lips connected to yours again. Your tongues danced with each other as you shifted against his body, you felt him harden against you, which caused him to let out a strained groan. “Baby, we gotta get out now. You’ve been killing me all day with this. I need you.”

You shifted back, biting your lip, “Oh? Then take me.”

“Famous last words..”

Trent stood up, bubbles and water cascading down his body when he stepped out of the bath. He lifted you out and carried you back to the bedroom, laying you down on the bed. By the look on his face, he was about to put you to bed. Literally and figuratively.

His fingers brushed the droplets of water on your body as slid his hand down to thumb over your clit in a teasing way; just enough to get the sparks going inside of you. “So wet for me already,” he whispered. Trent was stroking himself with his other hand, watching the sight of you damp and crumbling against him. He reached for the vibrator on the bed from earlier, turning it on and placing it against your clit with a buzz that made you arch off the bed moaning loudly.

“You like that? You’re soaking me already,” he groaned, pushing his dick into you as he began to thrust into your pussy rhythmically. “Not going to last long with you squeezing me like that,” he said, thrusting into you harder and faster. He was determined to make you cum first, always.

“Babyy! Oh my god, don’t stop. Feels so good.”

Each stroke was perfectly timed with the vibrator pressing into your clit. When he turned the setting up higher, your body tensed up as your orgasm ravaged through you, making you moan his name over and over again in a song of praise. His thrusts became erratic as he watched you cum, completely intoxicated by the view of you writhing and pleading for more. You knew he wasn’t going to last much longer once you felt the rhythm of his strokes weaken, so you gently pushed him off you to put his dick in your mouth. Trent’s hands immediately gripped your hair, groaning your name as he spilled his cum into your mouth. When you pulled back, both of you collapsed on the plush bed in a lust filled haze mixed with drowsiness as sleep pulled you into a state of unconsciousness. Trent watched you sleep for a while, gently stroking your hair and taking the sight of you in before he fell asleep too.

The evening of the gala arrived way faster than you wanted it to. You, Camille, and Ezzie were getting dressed in one dressing room, while Trent, Jude, and Ziggy were getting dressed in another.

“You’re kinda giving moon goddess, Y/N. Very on brand for you.” Camille teased from across the room as she lounged in a chair to get her hair done. You eyed yourself in the mirror, looking at the dress you chose for the night. It was one of the many custom pieces you ordered from Elie Saab – made of soft lavender chiffon that shimmered under the light. The gown was backless, faint hints of glitter trailed down your spine to mirror the stars. The stylist added soft waves to your hair to compliment the ethereal moon look you were going for. “You look so dreamy!” Ezzie chimed in, her eyes glued to your dress.

Ezzie was extremely excited about tonight, dawning a Giambattista Valli dress – soft pink tulle with butterfly embroidery. She looked like she stepped out of one of those whimsical tales where the main character is a fairy, leaving a trail of pixie dust everywhere she goes. Her René Caovilla butterfly heels had wings that wrapped around her ankles, sparkling with every step. Ezzie twirled around in the mirror, taking pictures of her outfit from every angle. “Do you think someone from Vogue will be here? Do I look like I’m ready for a modelling contract? That’s the look I’m going for.” You smiled, posing for a picture in the mirror with your younger sister. “You’re killing it babe. They’ll love it!” You both took a glance at Camille as her personal stylist walked around the room, putting the final touches together.

Camille’s outfit was an expected showstopper. She stunned in an over the top Alexander McQueen gown – deep shades of blue and purple, reminiscent of a twilight sky. There were tiny stars hand sewn into the top of the dress and the sleeves cascaded down her arms like shooting stars. Her heels featured twinkling crystals that glittered just like the night sky.

“You’re so fucking extra but I’m here for it,” you giggled, catching Camille’s gaze. She smirked, looking very Mariah Carey-ish. “To be honest, I was going to tone it down..but,” she bit her lip, showing her phone filled with recent text messages from Jules Koundé. “We’ve been chatting a little. Nothing serious but girl..I need him. Gotta pull out all the stops tonight.” You shook your head as you read the messages, fingers grazing over the cloud shaped clutch in your hand to pull out the vanilla and amber fragrance that was becoming your signature scent. “Ooh, I know Jules is going to eat everybody up with his outfit..like there won’t even be any competition.”

In the boys suite, the vibe was much more relaxed. Trent stood in the mirror, adjusting the lapel of a custom Tom Ford suit – deep navy that subtly shimmered under the light, with silver threads woven into the jacket to resemble constellations in the sky. The buttons to the jacket were gold and mimicked miniature suns as a nod to the ethereal theme of the night. His gold Audemars Piguet watch settled on his wrist, peeking through the sleeve of his suit. The smell of Rêveur filled the air as he sprayed his wrist and neck.

“Mate..do you think Y/N will like this?” he asked, turning to Jude who was lounging on a couch on the other side of the room. Jude glanced up from his phone and shrugged, “It looks fine, but what about mine? It’s different..”

Jude’s suit was a custom Louis Vuitton piece from a Virgil Abloh collection, a true work of art – an impossibly gorgeous purple fabric, featuring soft satin lapels embroidered with a cloud design. His lavender dress shoes were bold and intricate, making his outfit look sharp and well executed.

“Nah, it’s good. It’s supposed to be different I think. It’s like the Met Gala or something.”

Ziggy was silently fixating on his suit in the corner. He wore a Tom Ford suit, similar to Trent’s – a lighter shade of navy, with subtle golden embroidery around the cuffs to hint at rays of sunshine peeking through a cloud, emphasizing his dreams on the horizon. He wasn’t going to admit it, but Ziggy chose his suit specifically to mirror Trent’s. He secretly admired him, but wouldn’t let anyone know because he was still protective over you. He took a glance at Trent’s Rêveur bottle on the counter, reaching over to secretly spray himself with the scent. Wrists, then neck – just like Trent.

Back at the girls suite, everyone was finally ready. You slipped on your translucent heels that were oddly reminiscent of Cinderella’s glass slippers.

“Okayyy” Camille grinned, clasping her hands together. “Everyone ready?”

The theme for the gala was Elysian Reverie: A Night in the Clouds. Soft fabric flowed from the ceiling to create an illusion that the room was floating in a sea of clouds. There were pastel roses, orchids and wisteria cascading from the ceiling to add to the surreal atmosphere. The walls of the venue shimmered with varying hues of lavender, blush, and pale pink – to make you really feel like you were sitting up above the clouds in a daydreamer’s paradise. Glittering lights were scattered around to make it feel like you were walking through a starlit sky. There was a pianist playing the chords to Halo, soft and melodic to add to the dreamscape.

You and the group made your way to the VIP table, taking in everything around you. Camille’s parents were over the top, and every time you thought they couldn’t outdo the previous year’s gala..they always did. Trent’s hand brushed against yours as you sat down, and he leaned in with a grin, “Kind of feels like we’re in a dream.” You smiled back, placing a kiss on his cheek, “Right? I don’t understand how they do it. It’s insane.” A waiter handed you a menu, and your eyes quickly glanced over it before darting to the dessert section:

Wings of Dreams: A Celestial Feast

Starlit Prelude: - Oysters with Champagne Mignonette - Brie en Croûte with Cranberry Compote

Cloud Kissed Whispers: - Black Truffle and Ricotta Ravioli - Creamy Cauliflower Velouté Elysian Reverie: - Roast Quail with Madeira Jus - Charcoal Grilled Wagyu Beef with Miso Glaze - Lemon Sole Meunière with Brown Butter - Vegetable Wellington with Spinach and Goat Cheese

Heavenly Indulgence: - Vanilla Bean Panna Cotta with Raspberry Coulis - Swiss Chocolate Soufflé with Salted Caramel Crème Anglaise - Lavender Honey Crème Brûlée

“T..look at this,” you nudged him with your elbow, pointing to the dessert section. “Chocolate soufflé..and we don’t have to make it this time.” Trent laughed, shaking his head as he recalled the memory of the chaotic date that led you to where you were now. “I still can’t believe we burned it.”

Jude was sitting across from you, chatting up a girl from Gran Canaria at the next table. She was very clearly feeding his ego, giggling at everything he said and playing with her hair. Jude was soaking it all in, feeling like he was on top of the world, he even threw in some Spanish to impress her.

“Me encanta tu traje, eres muy guapo” she said with a flirty smile. (i love your suit, you look handsome)

“Gracias! Tu también te ves increíble.” (thank you, you look great too)

She leaned in closer, enjoying the attention he was giving her. “You play for Real Madrid, right? I’d love to go to a game…”

Jude, on cloud nine from drinks and an ego, flashed the girl a sly grin and reached for her phone. “Text me whenever. I’ll make sure it’s sorted.” He entered his number into her phone with ease, handing it back to her with a smile. She was still giggling, enjoying all the attention when he dropped one last line.

“Nos vemos en el Bernabéu, guapa.” (see you at the Bernabéu)

Camille was mid conversation, casually sipping on champagne when her eyes suddenly locked onto Jules making his entrance. Everyone was looking at him, he was wearing something that made every head in the venue turn. “Y/N. Oh my godddd. LOOK. AT. HIM.” she squealed, grabbing your arm to redirect your attention from Trent.

Jules Koundé? He was a visionary – a jewel. He wore a Balmain suit – deep blue fabric nearly radiating from the shimmering lights above. The jacket featured handwritten dreams of French children from the Wings of Dreams charity embroidered in silver and gold thread along the lapel and vest:

Voyager le monde (travel the world) ~ Liberté (freedom) ~ Devenir footballeur (become a footballer) ~ Rencontrer ma maman au ciel (meet my mum in heaven) ~ Avoir un lit à moi (have a bed of my own) ~ Pouvoir acheter des fleurs à ma maman tous les jours (buy flowers for my mum everyday) ~ Faire du cinéma et devenir un grand acteur (become a famous actor) ~ Je souhaite la paix dans le monde (I wish for world peace). His suit had an asymmetrical avant-garde edge to it which made him stand out amongst the crowd. His entire look was the embodiment of a daydream, and Camille was definitely lost in a daydream of her own.

“Oooh! He’s taking it!!! He looks so good. I knew he was going to turn heads,” you said excitedly, giggling with Camille. “Best dressed hands down. He’s so wrong for coming in here and clearing everybody like that.” Camille was staring..well fawning at this point. “Tomorrow is not promised. I need him tonight..and I’m being so serious right now.” she said in a dreamy, dazed voice.

Trent kissed his teeth, leaning back in the chair with an annoyed look. “You both gas him too much.” He was noticeably jealous at the attention Jules was receiving. “That’s a regular suit. Mine’s better.”

“Nah, man. He’s got us beat,” Jude chimed in, double fisting multiple glasses of champagne again. “I’ll admit it.” He took a long swig, unbothered by his ‘competition’. You glanced at Trent, raising a brow. “Aww baby, are you jealous?? You look good too, so, so handsome.....but Jules’ look is really creative. Maybe we can think of something next year for you if you’re really up for some competition?” Camille laughed loudly as the servers brought everyone’s food over. “Would love to see that.”

The twins were eying everyone in the room, bored out of their minds but still trying to soak in the environment like your parents wanted them to. Ezzie was moving across the room gracefully, chatting with anyone who looked remotely important, especially if they were fashionable. Ziggy was more calculated, scanning the room to try to figure out who looked the richest so he could convince them to donate more money to the charity. They may have only been 15, but they knew how the game worked..thanks to your parents.

After a while, Camille pushed her chair back, standing up. “Time for my speech,” she announced. As she made her way to the front of the room, it grew quiet. The only thing that could be heard were her heels clicking against the marble, hushed chatter, and a strangled cough here and there. You looked over at Jules from across the room, noticing his gaze fixed on Camille.

Oh I know that look, you thought to yourself.

“Hi everyone,” Camille's voice rang out through the venue. “Thanks for being here to support Wings of Dreams tonight. This charity is really special to me.” Her gaze softened as the light caught the emotion in her eyes. “The goal is to make dreams come true for kids who may otherwise never have the chance. Whether it’s becoming a footballer, or simply having a bed to call their own. Every dream matters.” The audience erupted into applause, nodding along with her words. “And tonight we’re doing something a little special..” Camille smiled, looking over at you and Trent. “My talented best friend Y/N, and her equally amazing boyfriend, Trent Alexander-Arnold created an exceptional new fragrance, ‘Rêveur’ that they want to share with the rest of the world. It’s available now and all proceeds go directly to Wings of Dreams. If any of you walked past Trent tonight then you know just how amazing it smells. It’s a dream!”

You smiled at Trent, leaning in for a kiss as the applause grew louder. This was it. The big moment. You felt excited, but nervous. You could see people pulling out their phones, placing orders. Trent got up to talk to a couple of people, suddenly in a mood to yap about Rêveur. People were talking to you too, but for some reason you were feeling anxious. It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate the attention, but your intuition just felt off. Eventually, you got up to go to the restroom before dessert was served. It felt strangely calm compared to the lively ambience of the gala. You looked at yourself in the mirror, retouching your makeup when a woman approached you.

“Y/N? Just wanted to say I ordered over 30 bottles of Rêveur to send to family overseas! I was so excited when I heard about the launch! I’ve wanted to smell it ever since Trent mentioned it in that interview. I’m shocked it’s not sold out yet! It’s gone viral!” You blinked, furrowing your brow as you tried to process her words.

“30 bottles?”

There was supposed to be a limit of two due to the limited release batch. Something went wrong, terribly wrong. “Yeah! I wanted to snag some before they were all gone.” She pulled out her phone, showing you her order. Yup, she definitely ordered 30 bottles, no doubt about it. She was unaware of the panic rising within you, but you tried to keep a cool head. “That’s...so nice of you. Thank you so much!” you forced, even though your heart was racing. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. You were losing control again.

You politely ended the conversation and rushed out, pulling out your phone. Your hands were shaking when you tried to log in to the site to see what was happening, but it wouldn’t load properly. “Shittt. C’mon..c’monnn” you muttered under your breath. You were cursing yourself for not double checking everything before the launch. You rang Tara, but it went straight to voicemail; When you tried Ember’s there was no answer. You could feel an anxiety attack creeping in – your vision tunnelled, your brain felt scrambled, voices echoed around you, and you felt like you were walking on unsteady ground. In a hurry to get some fresh air, you bumped into someone. “Oops, so sorry!” you apologized, looking up.

“Hey! Y/N right?” Jules stood next to you, smiling. “You’re Camille’s friend?”

You steadied your breathing, smiling even though you were internally in a tizzy. “Yup. That’s me.” Jules leaned in slightly to hear you better since the gala was too loud for a proper conversation. He could smell the vanilla and amber scent that saturated your pulse points. “Damn. Which perfume of yours is that? It smells amazing.” Whatever you put in that perfume was giving femme fatale – enticing all types of men the entire night. You had much more to worry about though.

“Um..thanks. I’m still working on it.” you smiled again, but your voice was a bit strained. Every word felt like a struggle and you honestly just wanted to get out of there; Jules didn’t seem to notice at all.

“T’as dead ça (you ate that/did good), it smells really good. But..uh, I wanted to ask..how’s Camille?” Jules leaned in closer. He was so close that if someone were to take a glance your way, it wouldn’t look exactly innocent. “She still single? I’ve been thinking about asking her on a date. Think she’d be down?” His tone was casual, but he was unmistakably interested in Camille. The conversation continued a lot longer than you wanted it to, but you couldn’t break down here. That would be embarrassing.

“Oh she’d definitely be down. Why wait, though? I think you should.......”

Across the room, Trent was seated with Ziggy, who finally decided to open up to him. He was sharing stories about growing up with you.

“And that’s why I’m protective over her. She always supports me in everything,” Ziggy said in a vulnerable tone. “If it weren’t for Y/N..I wouldn’t even be playing footie. She made it all happen. Mum and Dad weren’t for it until she convinced them.” Ziggy was pouring his sweet little heart out, but Trent was barely listening. His focus was locked on you and Jules across the room. He saw the way Jules leaned into you, how you laughed at something he said, how your fingers lightly brushed against his suit jacket while you read the written dreams from the children. To him it looked like you were genuinely flirting, and he didn’t like that. Was it the locs that had you so interested? His smile? His voice? The accent? What was it?

The more he watched, the more it made him feel suddenly possessive over you. His jaw clenched while your brother’s words went in one ear, and out the other. Trent stood up, cutting Ziggy off mid sentence to storm over to where you were talking to Jules.

“Right in front of my face, Y/N? You're serious? Class act you are,” Trent’s voice cut through the conversation, demanding and overly confident. You turned, frowning your face. “Wh–what? Trent, what are you talking about? And who are you talking to?” His tone was kind of startling and out of character; you didn’t like it.

“You and Jules..what is this?” he asked, gesturing between the two of you.

“Whoa, man. I was just asking about –”

“Trent, you’re not serious are you?” you snapped, cutting Jules off. “What is wrong with you? We were just talking about–”

“Talking? It looked like you were flirting. I saw you touch–”

You frowned, waving your hands around while the words tumbled out of your mouth. “You’re not even listening to me! What the fuck is your problem?”

“I am listening,” he shot back coldly. “My problem is you.”

Tears pooled in your eyes, your hands were shaking, but you were far from sad. You were pissed. You couldn’t believe he said that. “Me?! Are you stupid or are you dumb? I’ve been nothing but good to you. Why would you even think I’d do something like that? He was asking me about Camille!” Trent’s jaw tightened and his hands instinctively reached for your waist when he stepped closer, like they always did. Except this time it didn’t feel comfortable at all, it felt suffocating. “People are watching, Y/N..” he hissed quietly, his voice commanding, as if you should’ve known better. Suddenly, your vision tunnelled, memories flashed of your ex reprimanding you at a similar event for not being up to par to his future ‘trophy wife’ standards.

~ “You’re embarrassing me. Put that pretty face to good use and lose the attitude” ~ “You wouldn’t have made it through the door without me.” ~ “You’re the problem.”

His words were so vile and wrapped around your heart far longer than they ever should have. They were embedded within you like thorns from roses; he wanted you to fit into the mould of his little world just like your parents did. His hands were constantly on you too, but only to parade you around, never out of affection. He only did it to remind you he was the one with power. Trent wasn’t aware of the way those words made you feel. How could he? You only ever told him enough info for him to have a general idea, but Trent’s words still made you angry. You vowed to never let a man speak to you in that way again.

Rage boiled over you like a volcano, words tumbled out quicker than you could control – fueled by a cocktail of anxiety, frustration, and anger. “Oh?? Are you afraid I’m going to make you look bad? We can’t have that can we? Always on your best behaviour for the media, huh?” You tore into him because right now, he represented everything cornering you. The pressure was too much. “I’m not the one making a scene Trent, you are. Read the fucking room..maybe you’re the problem.” You tore yourself from his grip, your body shaking from anxiety and anger. “And don’t fucking touch me. I can’t do this. I really can’t.”

One of your heels caught on the floor with you pulled away from him, but you couldn’t care less. You needed to get out, away from his suffocating presence, and away from prying eyes. Trent watched you go, and a part of him wanted to call out to you, but his pride wouldn’t let him. He glanced at your heel and bent down to pick it up. Both of your worlds felt like they were spinning off course.

Fate brought you together, but right now it felt like you were being pulled apart thread by thread. He followed behind you slowly, his anger turning into regret. Trent knew he fucked up the moment the words left his mouth. He wasn’t stupid, but it stung watching you talk to Jules. He had no right to be jealous, you never gave him a reason not to trust you, but seeing you and Jules talking set something off in him. Something irrational, but still there. He was competitive in everything and watching you talk to another man, triggered something in him that he wasn’t proud of. The fear of losing you scared him, making him react in ways he could’ve handled a lot better.

Somewhere else in the venue, Jules had made his way over to Camille after walking away from you and Trent, the gold and silver threads from his jacket shimmered beneath the light. “Ah, look who it is. The Queen of the night! So….this afterparty..you need a ride? Kefa ce soir? (wyd tonight)” Camille’s gaze flicked over to you and Trent across the room before she settled back on Jules. “Bah..en fait.. ouai! (slang for well actually yes)” she replied, pushing her concern for you out of her mind. She figured the two of you were probably arguing over something dumb. Probably some stupid disagreement that would be sorted within the next hour or two. There were much better things to focus on, like the absolute stunner in front of her. She meant it when she said she needed him tonight.

Jules leaned in to Camille, his locs shifted and brushed up lightly against her face. “Or,” he began, voice smooth like the finest silk, “we could take a detour?” The words hung around the air, leaving just enough room for intention with unspoken words that made Camille’s mind race. A detour? What could that possibly mean? Maybe a late night ride driving around St. Moritz in an expensive car before heading to the club? Was it something more private? Did he want sex?? What could they possibly do on this little detour?

Who knows, but Jules left it open ended on purpose to keep her guessing. He wanted to draw her in. “Vasy.” (ok, lets go)

Jude on the other hand, was completely oblivious to everything going on with everyone else; he was having the time of his life chatting with people, dancing, and taking random videos in a buzzed haze before finally settling into a conversation with Camille’s mum. “That car out there..the Maserati? That yours?”

Camille’s mum laughed, charmed by Jude’s boyish interest in cars. “No.. much too fast for me. My husband’s driving his Cielo for the Concours of Elegance event on the lake tomorrow..but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind you borrowing it for a joyride if you’re interested?”

“The ICE?! With all the ultra rare cars? That man must be a legend!”Jude exclaimed in shock.

Camille’s mum nodded, enjoying the excitement radiating off of him. “It is quite an event, isn’t it?”

“Yeah..I’d love a joyride but umm..” Jude trailed off, reality hitting him immediately. He scratched the back of his head, making a face. “I uhh..I can’t drive. I usually just get people to drive me around.”

Camille’s mum stifled a laugh, eyeing him with a motherly glint in her eyes. “A young footballer like you can’t drive? Are you only useful on the pitch? Tragic.”

Jude paused, thinking for a solution. He wasn’t giving up the chance to ride passenger in an absolute rocket of a car. “Uh, maybe I can get Trent or Y/N to drive me?”

Camille’s mum set her drink down, pulling out a stylish business card out of her clutch. “You have a face for more than football sweetheart. If you ever have any extended time off the pitch, give me a call. I know some people.” she said, handing him the card with a motherly smile.

“Me??” Jude blinked, staring at the card. “I mean..I did hear you’re an expert so..”

“I am,” she replied confidently, patting him on the shoulder before turning to the valet counter. “You should really get that surgery, dear. But don’t worry, I’ll let them know there’s a passenger prince waiting for his ride.”

Back at the table, Ezzie and Ziggy were quietly taking in the scene with curiosity and concern. “I hope it’s nothing serious” Ezzie muttered, glancing at her twin with a worried expression. “They were happy earlier.” Her fingers fidgeted with a napkin, the vibe making her feel anxious. Ziggy shrugged but his face told a different story. He wasn’t as indifferent as he was pretending to be, something in the back of his mind was being pieced together the more he eyed Trent. “Dunno. Could be nothing, could be bad. Hard to tell..”

Ezzie paused, biting her lip as she glanced back in you and Trent’s direction. “But they look like they’re made for each other, right?” Her words trailed into awkward silence, a feeling of teenage angst and telepathic thoughts only twins could have. They just wanted you to be happy.

The twins got up to leave shortly after, grabbing the untouched chocolate soufflé from the table. They didn’t realize it was meant for you and Trent. Not that it mattered anymore, it wasn’t like you were in the mood for dessert after everything. Ezzie and Ziggy made their way to the exit, muffled sounds of the argument filtered through their ears. Neither you nor Trent noticed the twins leaving in the heat of your argument.

Ezzie glanced back once more, catching the moment you pulled away from Trent. “I hope they figure it out. You remember what happened last time…”

“Yeah..I do.” Ziggy said, protective anger laced in his voice. “Trent’s not like him. He won’t treat her like that..he’s kinda cool.”

A childhood memory resurfaced in Ziggy’s mind when he took one last look at Trent. Ziggy was maybe 5 or 6 years old, not really old enough to fully understand anything but old enough to remember things to form a memory. You were fidgety and on edge being at home, so you took them to the park. Ziggy and Ezzie thought you wanted to escape from being bored, but they had no idea you just hated being at home.

Thinking back on it, Ziggy realized why: your parents.

You were trying to escape in any way you could. It wasn’t until recently that he figured out those outdoor adventures you took them on were more for you, than them. You were just a teenager, trying to survive your parents unreasonable expectations.

One of those days stuck with him specifically, years before Trent entered your lives in the way he had now. Ziggy had a eureka moment, and could picture the memory play by play. The sun was shining, the air was fresh. You took them to the park like you always did when you wanted to get away from home. To Ziggy, it was just another day of kicking a ball around. That day, you were somewhere else, lost in your thoughts, lazily picking at the grass while you sat on the ground.

An older boy with a football under his arm came up to Ziggy, maybe a little older than you. He was playing with a group of friends and noticed Ziggy struggling to keep up with the ball. He jogged over with a smile, the same one you grew to love a decade later. Ziggy didn’t know who this boy was at the time, neither did you. He passed the ball to Ziggy, joining him in an impromptu drill. It was a moment that stuck with your brother forever, it was the reason he wanted to play footie at all. The memory of the older boy stuck with him when he stepped onto the pitch at every match. Your parents didn’t want Ziggy playing football, but you convinced them because he never shut up about it.

“Mate, wait a minute..” the boy said, bringing the ball back to his feet. “Do it like this. Don’t let the ball control you.”

Ziggy looked at the older boy, mesmerised by his footwork. “Like this?” he asked, trying to mimic Trent’s movements and failing. He had the coordination of a 5-6 year old, paired with short bowed legs, but he tried anyway. Trent laughed, amused with Ziggy’s determination. “Nah, but that’s close. Watch me” He took the ball, demonstrating the right movements. “Try it again. You got this bro.” Ziggy’s little legs worked so hard to keep up with the ball, but he finally managed to get the hang of it after a while. “I did it!” Ziggy glanced over at you, pure excitement in his voice. “Y/N, look what I can do!”

Looking up from where you were sitting, your tired eyes met Ziggy’s and you smiled softly. “Good job, Z” you said with just enough excitement to satisfy a small child. You glanced over at the boy helping Ziggy – it was Trent. You saw him around the park before, but never really paid any attention, your mind was usually elsewhere on the days you came to the park. He gave you a small wave, grinning casually. You waved back, thankful he was keeping your brother entertained while you hid in your thoughts. It was so nice of him to help a little boy who was just learning his way around the ball.

Ezzie was off to the side, squatting down in the dirt with a stick in her hand; probably drawing stick figures with little dresses and bows on them. She loved fashion even at this age – she was always doodling something. Ezzie was in her own world humming songs, unless someone said something that made her want to share her opinion.

Trent gave Ziggy a pat on the back, pulling him into a playful hug. “See? You got it, I told you! You’re a natural.”

Ziggy looked up at Trent with wide, childlike eyes – like he was his personal superhero. “Umm..can you play with me again next time? I wanna learn more!” he asked shyly, with puppy dog eyes. Trent shrugged, a heartfelt smile on his face. “Yeah lil bro, sure! Keep staying consistent and you’ll be better than me. We’ve got the same legs!” Ziggy giggled at the idea, it was too big for his little brain to grasp at the time, but the words eventually became ingrained in his memory.

From that point forward, Ziggy started talking about football nonstop. It was a growing obsession. He was always talking about the older boy at the park while he kicked the ugliest ball you’d ever seen around the house. You never told Ziggy the real reason you convinced your parents wasn’t just because of supporting his newfound passion. He kept talking about the boy; he was so relentless and determined about football and whoever this older boy was; it annoyed the absolute hell out of you. Your parents didn’t think football was a good choice for their only baby boy, but you convinced them because you couldn’t stand the endless whines from him begging to play football, you had enough of it.

One day, Trent gave Ziggy a new ball, a pair of boots that were way too big, and told him to never stop improving; he was actually getting really good at playing. Ziggy only saw him a few more times after that day – until now; he stopped going to the park after joining a youth football club. He kept the ball all these years like it was a sacred relic. At 15, he could fit the boots now; they were his favorite despite having many others. That ball and those boots meant everything to him, he carried the worn things nearly everywhere just in case there was a field to play in. Every time your brother stepped onto a pitch, the memories of the older boy from the park fueled him to be better. Now, Ziggy realized Trent was the one who gave him the ball. He unknowingly inspired him so many years ago, and now Trent was a part of his life again.

The story you were writing together had been drafted long before, without you ever knowing. But that’s the thing about serendipity – you never know where it begins until you trace the threads. Maybe it started with a smile on the train? Or maybe a random day at the park?? Maybe somewhere else entirely.

Moments always seem so ordinary..until they’re not.

When you got back to the suite, you slammed the door behind you, your chest heaving from the tears spilling. You looked in the mirror at your reflection, stopping dead in your tracks – makeup smudged, tears freefalling, stressed beyond belief.

I look so pathetic. Definitely not a cute look.

You choked back a sob and a strangled laugh, gripping the marbled edge of the sink.

What can I fix tonight? Nothing. What can I do??

Thoughts stirred around your head, but there was only one solution that seemed logical in your mind, for now anyway: get drunk.

Fuck this. I’ll worry about it tomorrow, there’s nothing I can do right now and I’m not letting an open bar go to waste.

You exhaled, wiping away your tears and reached for your makeup bag. It was damage control time. You turned on a playlist from your phone, Pink + White by Frank Ocean playing softly in the distance.

‘It’s all downhill from here.’ ... ‘And make it out when the sun is ruined’

After washing your face, you redid your eyeliner, relined your lips, applied a gorgeous lip combo, and took a long deep breath. The anxiety and anger was still there, but at least you didn’t look like you were on the verge of breaking down anymore. You looked hot.

You eyed the Mugler dress laying on the bed – short, red, very femme fatale. It was the kind of dress you could wear to let your boyfriend know what he would be missing tonight. If he wanted to be an asshole, fine. Two could play that game. You wanted to make a point. Seeing you in red was Trent’s weakness. Whenever you wore red, he couldn’t pull his eyes away from you. It made him feel like you were his, in each and every way. You smirked as you slipped into the dress. The red contrasted beautifully against your glowing complexion. He was going to feel your wrath tonight, you weren’t backing down. He questioned your loyalty, he acted like you did something wrong. But tonight? He was going to see exactly what that mistake cost him. This wasn’t just an afterparty anymore – it was his red card moment.

You grabbed your Loewe sunglasses from a nearby table, sliding them on top of your forehead. Was it dark outside? Yes. But you wanted to give off the look of being unbothered, even though you were far from it. Just as you were spraying your perfume, you felt the tension you always felt when Trent was nearby. You froze for a second, but you knew it was him. You didn’t have time for his shit. Trent stepped in slowly, eyeing your dress. He looked conflicted, with maybe a mix of regret, frustration..and even admiration. You cared but you also didn’t, he was being dumb and you wanted him to feel it, so you gave him the cold shoulder.

“Y/N..” he started, his voice low.

“Don’t.” you snap, cutting him off before he had the chance to get any other words out. You weren’t in the mood for any explanations, and you definitely didn’t need any half assed apologies after his little tantrum. You slid your sunglasses down to your eyes, strutting past Trent and out the door, the scent of your perfume encased him and pulled him in, even though you were walking away. You knew that scent made him feral, left him craving you. But tonight? It would be a cruel reminder that he fucked up; leaving him in the clouds with you just out of reach.

Trent’s gaze followed your every step, every sway of your hips. He shook his head as the door shut behind you, your heel from earlier still in his hand. “Fuck..she looks so sexy right now,” he muttered under his breath, looking around the room. He wasn’t used to this, usually he was the one doing this to others. He sighed deeply, looking over his clothing options. If you were going out like that, he needed to step his game up too. He needed to match your energy, and he knew exactly how to. Trent knew you loved him in white and cream – he picked a crisp white tee, paired with a Prada co-ord of trousers, a jacket, and Prada Cloudburst Thunder trainers. He looked himself over in the mirror after getting dressed, spraying Rêveur on his pulse points again.

It was like the two of you were doing a mating call, trying to get each other’s attention without backing down. But who would win?

Downstairs, Jude was waiting for you, leaning against the Maserati Cielo with keys in hand. His smirk turned into a bright smile when he saw you storm out in your red revenge dress. He really didn’t need to ask what happened, he could feel your fury from afar, but he still asked anyway.

“You alright?” he said, handing you the keys as he approached the driver’s side to open the door for you. “If looks could kill…”

“Shut up Jude. Let’s just go.” you command, sliding into the driver’s seat as he closed the door.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.. Guess an angry chariot awaits me.” he said, snickering.

“Oh my goddd, just get in the fucking car Jude.”

You were getting increasingly irritated by the fact that you were the one driving. Jude slipped into the passenger seat while you tapped your nails impatiently against the wheel. Driving was not something you wanted to be doing right now, especially while being anxious and beyond irritated. You didn’t even drive, being a passenger princess was the lifestyle you were living. But of course, so was Jude, except he didn’t have a licence – and you did. You didn’t want to go with Trent, and Camille was busy with Jules doing who knows what. So.. it was down to you tonight. There was no way you were driving back though, the mission was to forget this night even happened. Jude settled in the seat next to you, sprawling his long legs out in a manspread while playing music from a playlist on his phone. You deadpanned on him, scowling. “You really need to get a licence,” you mutter. “This is so fucking stupid Jude! YOU should be driving ME.”

Jude laughed, shaking his head. “Why am I catching strays? What’d I do? You know I can’t drive. Lay off me, yeah?” You rolled your eyes, slamming the car into gear, pulling out into the road with more speed than necessary. This car was fast. Jude leaned in his seat, jamming to the music, very unbothered by your irritation with him.

“I should’ve made you walk,” you say, glaring at him. “You and your friend, I swear..”

After pulling up to the afterparty, the valet took the car and you strutted inside, Jude lazily strolling behind you with his hands in his pocket. All eyes were on you, people whispering as you walked past:

“Mate, that dress… she’s fucking killing it.”

“She’s with Jude? Where’s Trent?? I saw them arguing earlier..”

“Nah, they’re fine. Jude just can’t drive himself.”

“She could step on me in those heels and I would thank her.”

“Bro, if my girl came out looking like that we’d never make it inside.”

“I like her energy, she’s giving unbothered diva.”

“Trent’s in for it tonight…”

You heard every comment, every whisper, but you weren’t fazed by any of it. If anything, it fueled you into having the night you were determined to have. Let them speculate and talk all they want, who cares? Not you..or did you?

The heavy bass of the music reverberated through the floor, a relentless beat kicked in with precision, making the entire room pulse to command all attention. Each step you took toward the bar was synced with the thumping rhythm, every head turning as you passed by. The beat was sharp, almost downright arrogant. Jude looked around, dapping people up as he trailed behind you.

“Lemon drop shots for me, please. Make ’em strong.” you say to the bartender before jerking your head in Jude’s direction. “Get him....something. I really don’t give a fuck what it is.” The bartender nodded, laughing to himself while preparing the drinks. As soon as the lemon drop shots were placed in front of you, you downed two immediately and surveyed the crowd.

Where the hell is Camille? Jules??

Your head turned to the door, seeing Trent walk in. He was on point. The white caught your eye immediately and you scoffed in disbelief. He knew you were down bad for him in those colors.

OH? That’s what we’re doing?

He wanted your attention, but you weren’t willing to give it to him, not after the way he reacted at the gala. No. Don’t be that easy, even if he does look good.

Both of you locked eyes from across the bar while the beat pounded in the background. Trent’s gaze never broke from yours; you both were playing a game without saying a word. Jude was watching the whole thing unfold, downing whatever shot the bartender gave him while he silently clocked the situation like a spectator with front row seats.

You turned back to your last shot, picking it up for another round. While Trent and Jude’s eyes were on you, you dragged your tongue slowly along the sugared rim before tossing the shot back, a sweet burn hit your throat and travelled down to warm your stomach. You licked the remaining sugar from your finger, feeling Trent’s gaze sear into you while you made your way to the dance floor without giving him a second glance. You knew he was watching. That’s exactly what you wanted. Your hips swayed to the beat as you danced with other friends, knowing he was observing every move. He lost control of this little match the minute you slipped into that red dress. You gave him his red card. Now he was stuck watching from the touchline.

Jude strolled over to Trent, more drinks in hand. He was trying to hide the enjoyment emitting from his face while watching his friend's predicament. Neither of them had ever seen you like this, but Jude knew how this was going to play out. He knew Trent wasn’t going to win this time. He handed Trent a drink, unable to hide the smile on his face any longer.

“Mate..you fucked up, didn’t you?”

honestly, if you made it this far you're a real one and i tysm. lmk what you think, and where you think Camille and Jules went bc i haven't decided 👀 song inspo:

#trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold x you #trent alexander arnold angst #trent alexander arnold smut #footballer x reader #footballer x y/n #taa x reader #trent alexander arnold fanfiction #fem!reader #footballer fanfic #footballer imagines #trent alexander arnold fluff #trent alexander arnold imagine #Spotify

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