#eye support for screen time

[self-care-tips-free]

Eye Care Simplified: Comprehensive Eye Support with Eyevita Plus

https://self-care-tips.com/post-preview/eye-care-simplified-comprehensive-eye-support-with-eyevita-plus

[cornfield-chase]

vengeful mama😔😔🥰💙🤚

[todayisafridaynight]

lit cannot stress how much fuckability masato lost after becoming aoki like emo death is real and its so so tragic

[vaguely-concerned]

zero with the helmet faceplate broken so it reveals just one of his eyes and spiderweb cracks all around it.........

[iwannaleavemymind]

gamer!choso bending you over his gaming table thinking the live camera feeds cut off but it’s still live.

gamer!choso who fucks you like he hates you, but whispers ‘I love you’ over and over into your ear.

gamer!choso knowing he left the live on, but of course it’s on accident, right?

gamer!choso fucking you dumb while your cheeks are pressed onto his desk, his hips snapping against yours, the tip of his dick hitting your spongy g spot every time, moans spilling past your lips and eyes screwed shut in pleasure.

gamer!choso making you squirt all over his cock, catching it allll on camera. The chat on the screen blowing up with comments about how pretty you are. ‘Omg I wish that was me!’ One comment reads, another one stating, ‘wow she’s hot must be fuckin her nice’

gamer!choso grabbing your face and making you turn and look at the camera, pupils blown out and drool spilling from your lips. Eyes widening when you see the camera still on and the chat still filling up with comments.

gamer!choso later starts a ~private~ patreon later on in the week, featuring videos with you and him starring in the videos.

Pt 2. Link below- stay tuned for more my loves!🤍🤍🤍

[gor3sigil]

Before starting T, when I socially transitionned, I was surrounded by radical feminists who saw masculinity as gross and inherently evil, something to avoid, something to make fun of, something to destroy. The other transmascs in my friend group, sometimes, told me that they didn’t knew if they really were non-binary or if they just were scared shitless of saying “I am a man”. Because they saw this as a betrayal to their younger self who had been SAd and abused.

I saw many of my masc friends and trans men around me hate themselves, not outing themselves as men because it would imply so so much, it was like opening the Pandora Box. Even when we were just together, talking about our masculinity was always coated with bits like “I know we’re the privileged ones but…”, “I don’t want to sound like I have it bad but…”, “Women obviously have it worse, but last time…” and we were talking about terrible traumas we experienced while taking all the precautions in the world in the case the walls were a crowd of people in disguise waiting to get us if we didn’t downplay the violence we faced, or like crying and being upset and being traumatized and afraid and scared and to say it out loud would make us throw up the needles we were forced to swallow every second of every day living in our skin.

Most of us weren’t on T yet, some of us were catcalled every day and harassed in the streets or in abusive relationships nobody seemed to care to help them get out of because they were “strong enough” to do it by themselves.

I was using the gender swap face app and cried for ours when I saw my father looking back at me through the screen. The idea of transforming, of shedding into a body that would deprive me of love, tenderness, and safety, was absolutely terrifying. I knew I couldn’t stay in this body any longer because it wasn’t mine, but I also knew that if I was going to look like my dad, my brother, my abusers, it would be so much worse.

5 years later and I’m almost 2 years on T, and almost 2 months post top surgery.

I ditched my previous group of friends. I was bullied out of my local trans community. But let me tell you how free I am.

I was scared that T would break my singing voice: it made it sound more alive than ever.

I was scared that T would make me less attractive: it made me find myself hot for the first time in my life.

I was scared that T would make me gain weight: it did. But the weight I put on is not the weight I used to put on by binging and eating my body until I forgot that it even existed. It’s the weight of my body belonging to me, little by little. The wolf hunger for life.

I won’t tell you the same story I see everywhere, the one that goes “I started going to the gym 8 times a week, I put on some muscles, I started a diet and now I look like an action film actor”, in fact if you took pictures of me from 5 years ago vs now I’d just have more acne, I’d have longer hair and still look like I don’t know what to do with myself when I take selfies.

But the sparkle in my eyes, my smile, tell the whole story way better than this long ass stream of words could ever.

I want to say some things that I wish someone told me before starting medically transitionning.

It’s okay to take your time. It’s your body, it’s your journey, if you don’t feel comfortable taking full doses and want to go slow, the only voice you need to listen to is your own. Do what feels right.

If you feel overwhelmed, it’s okay to take a break, it’s okay to ask for support.

Trans people are holy. Everyone is. You didn’t lose your angel wings when you came out because you want to be masculine. You are not excluded from the joy of existence, from being proud of yourself, from being sad, from being scared, from being angry. The emotions and feelings you allowed yourself to feel while processing what you experienced when you grew up as a girl and was seen as a woman are still as valid as before. Nobody can take that from you. If someone tries to, don’t let them.

It’s perfectly normal to grieve some things you were and had before you started to transition, like your high soprano voice or even your chest. Hatching is painful. You can find comfort in things that don’t feel right, so making the decision to change can be incredibly scary and weird and you deserve to be heard and supported through this. Wanting top surgery doesn’t make the surgery less intense, less terrifying, less painful to recover from. When it becomes too much you have the right to take a break and take some deep breaths before going on.

You don’t have to have a radical, 180° change for your transition to be acceptable or valid or worthy of praise. Look at how far you’ve come already. It doesn’t have to show, you’re not made to be a spectacle, you’re human and it is your journey.

Oh, and last thing, you know when some people say “Oh this trans person has to grow out of the cringy phase where you think that you can write essays about being trans or transitionning or just their experience because it’s weird” ? If you ever hear this or see this online, remember all the people whose writing you read and, even if they were not professional writers, helped you more than any theorists did ? If you want to write, do it. It won’t be a waste. It can help people. Or it won’t, and even then, if it helped you, that’s enough.

Love every of my trans siblings, take care of yourselves. You deserve the world.

[phantomsies]

𝖓𝖊𝖝𝖙 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖓𝖙 • 𝖆.𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖑𝖊𝖗𝖙

your biggest fan soon becomes your biggest obsession….

black onlyfans creator!reader (fem descriptions), nerdy!armin, public sex/public masturbation, squirting, mentions of toys, exhibitionism, throatfucking, cumshot

📝: I wanted to go a completely different direction with this but a) it’s no longer kinktober and it would’ve much better suited that and b) nerd!armin just scratches an itch in my brain I can’t quite put my finger on. So enjoy! 🫶🏾 (also, I AM SO SORRY THIS SHIT IS SO LONG 😭😭 I don’t intend on headcanons being this length but I can’t shut the fuck up.)

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nerd!armin had been a dutiful subscriber of (y/n) (l/n)’s or as the world knew you, (performer name) for quite some time. He’d faithfully watched your content, never missing an upload to your sites and shamelessly scrolling your Twitter.

nerd!armin preferred your videos over others because they were so unique. Always willing to push the envelope by shooting in unconventional spaces; your car, public bathrooms and even dressing rooms..a polar opposite to his shy, bashful nature. In a way, he was jealous but also aroused..

from your long acrylics, fluffy lashes, colorful hair that changed from video to video and of course, the beautiful, dark brown complexion that radiated underneath the sun or ring lights, nerd!armin was obsessed.

nerd!armin would lie in bed after a long study session, classes or even a hard day at work..mindlessly stroking his cock in one hand as he held his phone in the other, eyes glued to the screen whilst you performed those lewd acts.

shoving those dildos in and out of your tight cunt, those pretty pink walls and plump brown lips sucking on that silicone toy..stretching yourself open all for his pleasure. A jeweled butt plug shoved into your ass and cream oozing down onto that gorgeous skin and the leather of your seats as you worked yourself into countless orgasms..mewling and begging for the would be viewer to keep fucking you..

“Fuck, I’m about to come, daddy..you’re gonna make me squirt.” Crying out as nerd!armin jerked himself even faster..subconsciously responding back without a single other person being in the room. ”Squirt for me, baby. Come..” Whimpering before exploding with a load of his own..

despite only being an intern, nerd!armin was well off from his freelancing tech work and although it didn’t leave him much room for socializing, he would tip you amicably on all the new content, as well as leave kind, respectful, encouraging words. It wasn’t something you saw often in this field.

it also didn’t take nerd!armin long to realize that you never featured a partner in any of your content like some girls eventually did. Only the various assortment of toys gifted to you by supporters. Which only further fed his delusions when you made a mess and glared into the camera, batting those doe brown eyes before saying “..look at what you made me do..that big dick feels so good..”

nerd!armin, who had only been with one woman sexually in his entire life and didn’t date often, could only dream of being with a girl like you.

so it came as no surprise when you announced that you would be opening a contest to film with one of your subscribers for the first time, nerd!armin leaped at the chance! The thought of getting to fuck the woman he’d hopelessly fawned over excited him.

nerd!armin nearly fainted when he got a DM on OnlyFans one day to see that he had won, asking when he’d like to arrange the meetup.

nerd!armin was understandably nervous on the day you two came face to face..but felt as ease when you continuously reassured him and even made sure that both of you had been tested, as well as protection.

“You’re so cute..it’s nice to finally meet you. Thank you for supporting me..” your gentle voice sent a shockwave of butterflies soaring through nerd!armin’s stomach as you wrapped him in a tight hug…and of course, a tightening in his pants upon laying eyes on his favorite creator. But that was merely the beginning.

nerd!armin found himself blushing when you slowly traced circles all over his skin, examining the single tattoo on his forearm and complimenting the smell of his cologne as the two of you sat alone in the bedroom of the designated filming space of your spacious home. Impressed by the bookshelves full of old literature he passed on the way in.

“Mmmm..you’re nervous, aren’t you?” “…I guess you could say that.” “Well don’t be, I’m going to make sure we have a good time, I promise..”

nerd!armin had no idea just how true you were to your word when less than ten minutes after the camera came on, you were on your knees, tongue extended and a wide smile on your face as he towered over you.

nerd!armin could hardly contain himself when eventually, those glossy brims were now encompassed around his cock. Slurping noises emanating around the room, along with his adorable cries…sloppy drool and gag spit spilling from that wet mouth and onto the pulsating head, shaft and those swollen balls. Disregarding the fact that your pretty face had become a disheveled mess.

“Oh my God…that feels so good, beautiful. Your mouth feels fucking amazing..” “You wanna come for me, baby?” “..yes! Drain me, please..” pathetically pleading whilst relentlessly fucking your throat.

nerd!armin unabashedly spent days, practicing his stroke on a translucent flesh light, feeding it deep thrusts and stuffing it with an ungodly amount of cum, examining your videos like study material..in hopes of gaining some stamina against you.

but nothing could prepare nerd!armin for the sheer sensation that being inside of you brought upon him.. however, he wasn’t the only one caught off guard..especially when he’d gently tug your head down and force you to watch as he glided into that narrow hole.. a move he’d learn from his tapes.

“It’s so big..damn..” “I told you..” giggling to yourselves as your gazes met and he’d begin to move.

nerd!armin almost felt compelled to believe that you were faking your moans like other pornstars so often did…but that misconception was cleared up when your eyes began to trail back, legs began to tremble and a slight bulge formed at the very bottom of your stomach.

“Yes, you stretching the fuck out of this pussy, baby..right there!..” “Am-am I doing a good job?” “You fucking me so good, please don’t stop.”

nerd!armin nearly lost all composure when you all but pushed him away, only to shower him in a stream of your juices. Only increasing as he tapped that swollen tip against your quivering folds.

nerd!armin didn’t last more than five minutes after that powerful climax and began dry heaving as his own neared. Ushering you back to your knees to paint those pretty features and tits with his load.

nerd!armin was convinced that once the cameras shut off, you’d put him out for nutting too quickly. Surely a woman of your caliber would never deal with that again. But yet again, he was proven wrong when you smiled up at him, flicking your tongue across your lips before posing a question. “So..where should we should film next time? We gotta do this more often..”

nerd!armin had found himself the newest and sole object of (creator’s name) affection!

[lokissweater]

little mouse

{toge inumaki x f!reader}

summary: toge inumaki, the barista at your local campus coffee shop, is the cutest man to ever cross your life— the both of you clicking fast and becoming the best of friends as the years flew by together… but you were in love. uncertain of crossing that line between friendship and lovers as you focused mainly on trying to see if he even liked you back. but as for toge? he was focused on trying not to burden you for the rest of your life because of his inability to speak, wanting you and only you, but juggling and tormented over his labored silent existence, hurting you in the process.

warnings: MDNI. afab!reader, college!au, FLUUUFFFF SO MUCH, pet names, TOGE LOVES YOU BROOO, angst!!! but with comfort!!, happy ending, SMUTTTT, p in v sex, fingering, creampie, doggy hehe, mentions of alcohol and drinking, sorority party, toge is a barista ouuu, cursing, best friends to lovers trope, reader and toge argue, all characters are aged up.

word count: 15.2k

authors note: YEEEOOOOWWWWW this fic was originally NOOTTTT supposed to be 15k but i’ve said it once and i’ll say it again I CAN NEVA STOP YAPPING MY GOD??? i hope you guys love this one as much as i do though it is SOOOOOO CUTEEE man :(( thank you SO SO MUCH for your love and support as ALWAYS, AND I LOVE YOUUUU AHHH MWAH MWAH HAVE A GOOD DAY OKAY <333

anyone that was a regular at the shop knew toge inumaki didn’t really ever speak.

and it was something you found out on your first day of college, running to the nearest coffee shop at eight-thirty in the fucking morning looking for something to snack on and wake you up before lecture, choosing to go to the one just around the corner from campus through a recommendation of a friend— but not knowing at all that you were about to run into the cutest man to ever plague your god damn existence, as well as your bestest friend in the entire world.

toge was the main barista and cashier at the shop, his mixology skill incomparable as no one else on the floor could replicate it successfully without errors the way he did— ringing customers up while simultaneously throwing coffee bases and syrups in a blender, topping each corresponding one with whipped cream on various orders before sliding it over to the pick up counter, all without even breaking a sweat through the times that you’ve shamefully watched him work from your little table before or after classes.

the first time you met him, you thought he was just having a bad day… and that he also hated you.

you had politely told him your order while at the same time ogling his handsome face— a small and simple sweet vanilla cold brew drink with a little blueberry scone on the side— when toge didn’t even spare you a glance and just tapped in your order on the screen, turning the tablet over to showcase the total before moving to the back to get started on your drink, not a single word leaving his scarf covered mouth as you silently paid and got a table.

it’s not like you were expecting anything out of it, but you hoped you would at least catch the color of his eyes before you had to leave.

and it went on like that for a total of four days— you saying the exact same order but just switching up the little pastry depending on your mood (it only consisting of your usual three— blueberry scone, cake pop, and cheese danish), toge’s eyes never leaving the register or drinks he made as you waited, and him sliding over your order in record time as he got started on attending the next customer.

on the fifth day, toge finally looked up.

the way he took your order didn’t change, but when it came to placing it over the pick up counter where you stood, your eyes widened when you noticed he was already looking at you, a grin on his face as he personally handed you your drink instead of sliding it over.

his eyes were purple.

and you just about fucking screamed, your days of hopelessly coming in to try and ridiculously take longer peeks at his face whenever you could finally paying off in that moment— and not expecting whatsoever to see the sides of his mouth marked with tattooed snake eyes either.

that day was also the day you noticed toge knew sign language.

most of the time toge took orders quickly without a word and punched in requests, but from time to time when a customer had a question about a menu item or what the passcode to the bathroom was, he always had a little whiteboard next to him with a black marker to scribble out what he needed to say— regulars already knowing how he communicated and not batting a single strange eye.

but on that day, a new customer came in that you didn’t recognize to be a regular, signing to one of the confused employees at the cash register until the employee turned around and tapped toge on the shoulder, pointing and saying words you couldn’t really hear before he quickly nodded and put down the blender he was holding, going over to sign.

you were mesmerized by it, the way his hands and fingers came together and away from each other to form different words and sentences completely unknown to those who didn’t understand the language, something that was beautiful to you and made you want to actually learn so you could potentially have the liberty to talk to him some time in the future if you could.

the next time you came into the shop early in the morning, toge was at the register. and upon seeing you walk in, he smoothly looked down and started typing away already on the screen, seemingly not listening and leaving you standing there confused.

“um—” you stammered. “can i…”

you trailed off as you watched him pick up his whiteboard and uncap the marker, scribbling.

‘i remembered your order.’

you froze, your heart doing enormous leaps considering this was the first time toge actually spoke to you apart from getting your order down and smiling at you.

“oh! really?” you laughed nervously. “…do i come in here too often then?”

he gave you a friendly grin and shook his head, erasing what he had before writing again.

‘do you want a blueberry scone, cake pop, or cheese danish?’

your eyes bulged. “you know that too?!”

he laughed, the sound making your hands clammy as you giggled along with him shyly.

“i’ll do a cake pop today!” you smiled. “i’m running a little late and that’s— easy to eat.. you know—”

he gave you a thumbs up and nodded, signaling with his head for you to wait by the pick up counter as he scribbled another few words, turning the whiteboard around.

‘i’ll see you tomorrow :)’

your cheeks flushed pink.

“y—yeah!” you spoke gingerly. “i’ll see you toge.”

the next few times after that toge would absolutely beam whenever you came into the shop, having already scribbled down your three choices of your usual pastries before having it ready for you at the pick up counter once you chose, even every now and then asking you a simple thing or two about your classes and major from the register as you sat by your table, him propping his little whiteboard up for you to see.

and ever since you saw that toge knew sign language, you wanted to know too, your desire to communicate with him more efficiently a silly priority on your mind as you signed up for entry level sign language courses at your college, trying to learn as much as you possibly could so it’d be easier for him not always having to step back and write.

“wait wait!” you put your hands out one slow morning upon arriving at the shop, toge stopping mid tap on the screen just as he was about to input your order, eyeing you.

your fingers shook a little as you slowly signed your order and choice of pastry for the day, trying to remember and grasp what you practiced repeatedly the night before, hoping your efforts would successfully come across and that you didn’t look like a fucking idiot.

but his focused eyes followed your movements, carefully watching you sign with pinched brows until you eventually finished— a slow pearly white smile spreading across is face as his gaze flickered to yours before writing on his whiteboard, turning it.

‘you know sign language?’

“barely!” you sputtered. “i um.. i started taking classes a couple of months ago but i’m not very good… did you— get it though? what i said?”

he quickly nodded.

‘it was a little choppy but good! good job y/n :)’

you breathed out a sigh of relief, a hand over your hammering chest as you swallowed.

“oh thank god.” you breathed. “i was worried i looked stupid or was accidentally telling you something weird.”

he laughed and waved you off, a slight tint to his cheeks as he wrote.

‘how’s learning it overall?’

“hard as fuck.” you mumbled, but peering up at him with a smile. “i’m trying though! i really love the language and i love learning it… it’s just hard because my professor kind of sucks and teaches it too fast.”

he hummed, moving around in the back while preparing your order before coming around through the little swinging door and over to your usual table, you standing dumbfounded at the register still as he stood there with your pastry and his whiteboard.

toge pointed to your seat.

“oh!” you gasped, walking over and taking a seat, smiling gratefully once he placed your coffee and cheese danish down for you, but stiffening once he scooched the chair out across from you and sat, your cheeks ablaze again.

“you wanna—” you looked at him with furrowed brows. “you wanna sit with me?”

he laughed a little and nodded.

“but the…” you pointed to the cash register.

he uncapped his marker and wrote, turning the board over.

‘it’s a slow day. if someone comes in i’ll just go.’

“oh— okay!” you breathed out nervously, wringing your fingers together as you kept them on your lap.

your thoughts were speeding across every corner of your mind, not knowing exactly why toge chose to sit with you right now but hanging on to the moment anyways, you anxiously trying to come up with things to say to get to know him a little better.

“i like your um..” you pointed to the corners of your mouth. “—your tattoos. did they hurt?”

he smiled and wrote.

‘thanks :) and not really, my throat hurts more than the tattooing itself hehe.’

your eyes snapped up to his.

“your throat?” you asked softly. “is it okay?”

‘oh it’s fine!’ he wrote. ‘well no but it just hurts a lot when i talk so i just don’t.’

you hummed in understanding, the missing puzzle as to why exactly toge never spoke out loud to anyone in the first place finally clicking into place.

“i’m sorry toge…” you expressed sweetly. “have you tried— well i assume you have but… like getting it checked out? or maybe honey with lemon or—”

he turned his board around.

‘yeah :P nothing really works. L for me.’

you giggled, and he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth in a smile.

‘can you show me what else you know in sign language?’

“ohhh this is it.” you swallowed. “you’re about to laugh in my face and think i’m stupid.”

he laughed and gave you a look.

‘you’re silly. just show me.’

you huffed before timidly showing him very basic simple phrases that you managed to pick up from class out of the millions that were shown— short choppy kiddy words that didn’t even serve to get by in a quick conversation, but enough for simple one worded responses.

“oh! and i like this one the most!—” you put the bases of your palms together and rubbed a little.

toge let out a squeaky cute laugh as he watched you before quickly picking up his marker and writing.

‘cheese? your favorite thing to sign is cheese?’

“yeah!—” you giggled shyly. “it’s funnn! and i never fuck it up.”

he nodded with a gleam in his eye.

‘i could teach you sign language if you want.’

you froze, eyes wide as you looked at him.

“seriously?” you quickly leaned forward. “are— are you sure? you definitely don’t have to at all toge… i don’t want to burden you or anything.”

his eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head.

‘not burden at all.’ he wrote. ‘i’m a lazy fart i don’t do much besides this so it’s fine.’

you giggled and nodded excitedly, a hopeful shine in your eyes as you looked at him.

“o—okay!” you agreed. “i’d like that a lot… thank you toge!”

he was so nice.

and just as he was about to write something else, a customer came through the doors and up to the cash register, toge quickly scribbling something down before standing and showing you, walking backwards.

‘i’ll talk to you later little mouse :)’

you laughed loudly, a hand flying over your mouth as you did.

that nickname stuck.

“bye toge!” you responded kindly, gathering your things before heading out for the day with your coffee and pastry.

unfortunately for you, midterm season came and knocked the absolute shit out of you for a week, you unable to go back to the coffee shop to see toge until it was all fucking over, your heart heavy over the fact that you literally failed your sign language test, but giddy and excited nonetheless to finally see him after a while and go back to your usual happy routine.

and as for toge, he was left utterly confused.

was he too forward? did you think it was weird when he called you little mouse? did you think he was weird?

was it something he did? why had you stopped coming into the shop after going in continuously for like weeks at this point?

and he had just gotten the courage to look you in the eye too.

toge literally had your order ready every single day with your three pastries warmed up and toasted if need be, your sweet vanilla cold brew drink ready to go the moment you walked through those doors at any given point and time… but you just didn’t come. him leaning on the register counter bored out of his mind and dejected over the disappearance of the pretty nice girl that always came in and talked to him at his work, ending up always drinking the coffee he made for you silently and munching on the three pastries you chose between when it was time to close.

but when you finally came in, early in the morning like you always did and looking forward to seeing him again— toge was hunched over the counter with his chin propped up on his hand like he had been for the past week, you unknowing of that as you walked over with a smile.

“hi toge!”

he shot up, eyes wide with his palms flat on the counter.

“y/n!—”

he spoke.

toge spoke and he immediately cowered over in a fit of painful sounding coughs that racked through his body, his mouth shoved into his elbow as he quickly pushed through the doors and walked to the back, leaving you there wide eyed and completely fucking shocked.

he said your name.

“toge..?” you called softly, timidly as you leaned over the counter to try and catch a look at him from inside the employee break room, still hearing faint coughing. “hey— are you okay?”

he returned to the floor chugging back a bottle of cough syrup like nothing before tossing it into the nearest bin and swallowing, snatching his marker to write on the mini whiteboard, holding it up.

‘where the fuck have you been?’

you looked at him with an apologetic little face, your eyes soft.

“i’m sorryyy!” you whined. “i’m so sorry it was midterm week for me and i was grinding so hard and i just didn’t have time to come in… it was torture.”

you guiltily bit your lip. “…are you mad at me?”

he shook his head slowly, his shoulders visibly relaxing at the confirmation that it wasn’t anything he did that could’ve potentially put you off.

‘not at all mouse :P.’ he wrote before reaching to the side and sliding over your already made coffee and three pastries, lined up.

and surprise crossed your face.

“you had it ready?” you gasped. “toge! thank you!”

you quickly opened your book bag and he placed a hand over your arm, stopping you and shaking his head ‘no.’

“no?” you asked softly. “what do you mean? i’m just gonna pay.”

toge only shook his head again with a small smile, nudging his head over for you to sit at your usual table.

your shoulders slumped. “now what would you do if i just burst out crying right now.”

he laughed loudly and let go of your arm to write, leaving a burning fuzzy feeling on your skin in return.

‘cry? why?’

“because you’re so nice!” you whined. “please let me pay. i already feel bad not coming in for a week… especially after you offered to teach me sign language.”

‘go sit down mouse. i’ll sit with you in a little bit.’

you begrudgingly stood in place before nodding and taking your drink with your bag of pastries, walking over to the side and plopping down on a seat.

toge had a bit of a rush in and couldn’t join you for nearly an hour, him constantly shooting you apologetic looks and you frantically waving him off and reassuring him that it was okay, you astronomically thankful that you didn’t have class that day until later in the evening.

but when the rush was eventually over, toge dropped down on the seat across from yours with a big tired sigh and his whiteboard, head down.

you gently poked his arm then, and he looked up.

“is your throat okay?” you asked, face serious. “and you?”

he nodded, giving you a warm smile before grabbing his marker.

‘it happens sometimes, i just slipped up. L for me again.’

you smiled sadly and retracted your hand from across the table to settle back over your lap.

“i like your voice… if that makes you feel any better.” you spoke shyly, looking down at your fingers.

toge bit the inside of his cheek and smiled cheekily.

‘thanks mouse… but i know something that’ll make me feel even better hehe.’

“what?” you asked curiously.

he wrote.

‘give me your number before you disappear on me again you little rat.’

“hey!” you whined. “i thought i was a mouse..”

he chuckled cutely and nudged your foot gently from underneath the table, erasing and writing again.

‘i’m just kidding. we need to set up those sign language lessons soon though :D.’

and at the reminder of that you groaned, body slumping over the table as toge eyed you confusedly.

“you’re gonna laugh. or be mad. or disappointed. or all three..” you mumbled, voice slightly muffled.

he poked your head repeatedly and you lifted it, chin resting lazily on the table as he looked at you expectantly.

“i failed my sign language midterm.”

toge snorted but quickly slapped a hand over his mouth, and you whined again before shoving your face back down as he quickly shook you by the shoulders, trying to get you to look up again.

“no no no i’m a disgrace i’m a failure i studied so fucking hard for nothing it’s over i’m not cut out—”

he kept shaking and delicately pinching you before you finally looked up again.

“what.” you mumbled, eyes dragging to his propped up whiteboard.

‘i’m sorry i laughed… but don’t worry you’ll pass the next one. you’ll be okay.’

“and how do you know.” you grumbled.

‘because now you have delicious me, duh :P’

you giggled softly and lifted yourself from the table, leaning back against your chair.

he gave you a warm knowing smile before writing again.

‘cheer up mouse… i promise i’ll help you.’

a slow cutesy grin spread across your face, one that made him swallow hard as you looked at him through your lashes.

“thank you toge… do you— do you work tomorrow?”

his gaze flickered up in thought before he shook his head, eyes landing back on yours.

“maybe we could start… tomorrow? if you’re free? and if— if it’s okay of course!” you stammered nervously, gnawing at your bottom lip as you waited for his response.

his cheeks fluttered pink a little before quickly nodding.

“okay!” you breathed excitedly. “great! we could do it here? or—”

he frantically shook his head no and uncapped his marker.

‘my dickhead manager will pull me to work if i’m here on my day off.’

you laughed and nodded. “okay not here then.. where? we can try my place but i already know my parents are gonna be annoying about bringing a guy over so..”

he smiled and looked down to write.

‘we can do my apartment mouse. i live alone.’

your eyes widened. “you have your own place? really?”

he slowly nodded.

“that’s so cool toge! oh my goodness i can’t wait to see it now!”

you bounced enthusiastically in your seat and he chuckled, perplexed as to why you would ever be excited to see something like that, but choosing not to question it.

‘it’s kind of small, and i mainly just sleep and be lazy if i’m not working or streaming.’

you tilted your head. “streaming..?”

he pursed his lips and looked down again to scribble, an embarrassed undertone to his face before propping the whiteboard up.

‘i play games and stream to earn extra money on the side like a little loser.’

you giggled, your eyebrows slightly furrowing before relaxing. “why would that make you a little loser toge? you’re making money while doing something you like… i think that’s really fun!”

an eager attractive grin ran across his face before quickly writing again.

‘i’m glad you think so :) but give me your number neow.’

“oh that’s right!” you beamed, taking his offered whiteboard and marker before quickly writing down your number with a heart in the corner, passing it back.

“just text me whenever and we can set a time for tomorrow okay?”

he nodded, his eyes trained to the heart you drew.

for the rest of his shift, toge spent it bouncing around between your table and back to the cash register to take orders and make drinks, seemingly finishing each beverage ten times fucking faster than usual just so he could come over and talk to you before you had to leave again for your evening class.

but you didn’t want to leave whatsoever, and you even juggled the possibility of skipping class to stay longer with toge, but the next class happened to be sign language, and you didn’t want to fail another fucking midterm by not showing up and missing material.

you threw your trash away before grabbing your book bag and slinging it over your shoulder once it was time, you slowly and timidly trying to get toge’s attention as you walked to the exit.

your shy raised hand caught his eye in between him blending and pouring drinks, toge quickly putting everything down and reaching for the whiteboard from the register, erasing whatever he had from a previous customer to write and flipping it over with a silly smile.

‘bye mouse!’ it read. ‘i’ll see you tomorrow! :P.’

and that was nearly two and a half years ago, the heart you drew in the corner of his whiteboard still there to this day as he answered questions, responded, or scribbled directions in any given situation with it no matter if it was in or outside of work— always wanting to have a little part of you with him wherever he went.

toge also kept his promise and taught you sign language, you trying so so fucking hard every waking day you spent with him at his cute little studio apartment— learning phrases and properly constructing it into sentences that actually made sense as you both sat sprawled on the floor for hours on end, him patient and kind as he watched you shakily sign and accept his gentle corrections with an open mind.

but although your sentences were continuously choppy and a little off at that point in time, they were definitely in way better condition than when you tried to study and learn it on your own… and toge was unsurprisingly a really good teacher— ten times more helpful than your literal freaking licensed professor whom you had started with, as toge would actually take the time to write and explain each concept in the best way he possibly could for you to understand.

now you were comfortable enough with it to respond in very simple sentences and phrases, but stronger at understanding it whenever toge signed to you, a plus when he clumsily forgot his whiteboard somewhere or when he just didn’t want to use it.

and ever since that first day you went over to his place to learn and study, you literally never went a day without going back again, your cute routine with him being going to his apartment every second of the day to hang out with him or do the things that you needed to do— some that could easily be done in your own space and home and room, but you refusing to for the sole purpose of wanting to be with toge all of the time, him feeling the exact same way and going as far as to giving you a copy of the key to his apartment.

(toge :D): MOUSE

(toge :D): MOUSE

your phone buzzed repeatedly just as you were walking up the steps to toge’s floor, you nearly dropping it over the uncontrollable buzz.

(toge :D): LITTLE MOUSE

(you): YES <3

(toge :D): ouuu a heart?? i didn’t know we were married :P

you let out a giggle and quickly typed a response, your face hot.

(you): mmm i don’t know my ring finger is quite literally bare right now :/ maybe next time!

(toge :D): YOOOOO

(toge :D): it’s because it’s gonna be under your pillow

(toge :D): like from the tooth fairy

(toge :D): a big shiny cock

(toge :D): I MEAN ROCK

(toge :D): ROCK I MEANT ROCK SORRY

you burst out laughing as you readjusted your book bag on your shoulder and turned the corner, nearing his apartment number.

(toge :D): …please still come over

(toge :D): oh wait that’s why i texted you! :P

(toge :D:) WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU

(toge :D): YOU’RE LATE MOUSE

(you): LMFAAOOO

(you): IM COMMINGGGG i’m literally down the hall sir

(you): but now that you yelled at me HMMMM i don’t feel like going today <//3

(toge :D): NO

(toge :D): i’m sorry i’m on my knees

(toge :D): i’m begging

(toge :D): i even brought you a blueberry scone from work

(toge :D): and i’ll buy you whatever you want

(toge :D): FUCK COME OVER NOOOWWWWW

(you): SAY PLEASE AND ADDRESS ME CORRECTLY

(toge :D): PLEEEAASSEEE MOUUSEE

you bit your lip in attempts at suppressing your giddy smile, it not really fucking working as you arrived at his door, pulling your keys out from your bag and shuffling through them to find his— one that had a tiny onigiri design on it.

(you): coming!! <33

(toge :D): so you’re saying we’re married again :P

the door clicked open upon you twisting the key in, stepping inside before closing it behind you while juggling your textbooks and locking it, toge seated on his little gaming chair when he swiveled around and waved at you with a big smile, standing.

“toge!” you gasped exhaustedly, stepping over to him. “you have got to help me please my god—”

he grabbed the textbooks from your arms and walked over to his desk, setting them down before turning back around and giving you a curious look.

‘what’s wrong?’ he signed.

“everything! everything is wrong sign language two is not for the weak oh my goodness gracious—”

you flopped down with your back flat on his bed, eyes shut in agony as he watched you amusedly.

“my professor’s teaching us grammar now and it just gets harder! i don’t know where to properly put anything or— or sign anything.”

he giggled softly and you peeked an eye open, looking at him.

‘i’ll help you mouse.’ he signed, stretching a hand out and you taking it, letting him pull you up to sit as you lazily did so.

“but i ask you too much.” you pouted. “and i feel bad every time i do, especially when you’re playing.”

he snorted, going over to his little dining table and pulling out a chair, lifting it over to his desk gaming set up area and placing it down before ushering you over with his hand.

“nuh uh.” you shook your head.

toge gave you a half lidded look and sat on the dining chair, him always saving his big comfy gaming chair for you whenever you sat with him at his desk since the first time you came over— his eyes expectant.

you deeply sighed and stood, trudging over to his gaming chair before plopping yourself down.

“you don’t have to toge… it’s okay.” you spoke gently. “you’ve been teaching me for like— two years already. my new year’s resolution was to stop bothering you about it and let you live.”

he slid his little whiteboard over and erased what he previously had, uncapping his marker and writing.

he showed you.

‘i’ll always help you and you know that :( and it doesn’t bother me you rat, i do it because i want to.’

or because he’s in love with you. either or.

you giggled and lifted your hand, your index finger erasing over the word ‘rat.’ “—it’s mouusee toge. it’s like you get off on abusing and hurting your bestest mestest friend.”

he laughed boyishly and put down his whiteboard, sliding over one of your textbooks from across the table to him and flipping through several pages, reading to try and see exactly where you were at by the sticky notes you left behind in the margins.

“don’t you have to stream today though?” you asked timidly. “like right now?”

he simply shrugged, turning a page as he reached over to write again on his board.

‘i can stream later tonight—’

he quickly turned it around again to add something just as you had finished reading, him flipping it back over.

‘—with you asleep on my bed. because you’re sleeping over. and that’s FINAL.’

you laughed loudly while leaning forward, your cheeks brewing up a little flush at the request even though you’ve slept over at his place plenty of times before— the thought of him actively wanting you to making your heart bounce around erratically in your chest.

“fuck i don’t know…” you feigned concern. “i’m not sure if i can toge i’m sorry.”

he slumped, eyes so sad that it made you almost sick to your stomach as you struggled to commit to the small bit.

‘why not?’ he signed.

“because i’m missing something.” you pouted.

‘missing?’ he signed again. ‘missing what?’

you snickered.

“my ring!” you extended your hand to him and wiggled your little fingers, you poking the tip of your tongue out to the side cutely. “the one you promised me over text.”

toge breathed out a laugh and nearly dropped dead at your cute expression, him mimicking you and sticking his tattooed tongue out before picking up his whiteboard from his lap to write.

‘i told you the tooth fairy has it :D you have to be patient little mouse.’

you giggled and put your arm down, giving him a stern silly look.

“kayyy thennn!” you dragged, sitting up in your chair and looking over your textbook. “i’ll be expecting my big shiny rock under my pillow in the morning sir.”

he saluted you and you grinned, the rest of the time being spent with toge trying to teach you as best as he could with you hopelessly following along, feeling like the dumbest bitch alive and embarrassed whenever you got something wrong.

but toge never minded, not one single bit— even when you made the same grammar mistake literally three times in a row and him correcting you each freaking time the same exact way, no sign of annoyance or frustration on his face as he worked with you.

and that’s one of the biggest reasons as to why you loved toge so much. since the moment you met him all he wanted to do was just help you, regardless of the fact if you were a stranger or not as he generously always put the things he needed to do aside for you— making sure you were always okay and getting the things you needed no matter how many times you told him he didn’t need to worry, you feeling special and appreciated whenever you were with him no matter what.

you hoped to god he felt the same… and you hoped you weren’t being straight delusional when you noticed the way he looked at you a little longer than he should have at times, or when you read too much into the casual little pecks on your head from him, or when you had told him how much you loved just studying on the floor beside him while he streamed but made a joke that sometimes you couldn’t see because it was so dark in his apartment, toge literally the next day buying you a little flower lily lamp to set and prop up right next to you so you could comfortably study, him laughing and wiping your tears when you ridiculously cried over his consideration.

so did that mean he loved you too?

“toge…” you murmured in the midst of him fixing a signage error of the word ‘before’ with his fingers.

he pointed to your hands so you could take note of the alteration he made, waiting for you to carry on then.

you smiled softly in gratitude before continuing.

“have you ever—” you pursed your lips. “have you ever um… well— actually nevermind—”

he blinked before slowly lifting his hands.

‘have i ever what?’ toge signed, and you quickly shook your head.

“nevermind! it’s okay.”

he gently nudged your foot with his, beckoning you to tell him as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

fuck.

okay if he kisses your head right now then you’ll tell him.

“i forgot toge.” you lied. “that’s why i said nevermind… oopsie!”

he laughed and leaned forward, pecking your forehead before reaching a hand up to ruffle up your hair.

fuck!

no you take it back you can’t do it you can’t—

‘silly.’ he signed, turning his attention back to your textbook and flipping a page.

he wondered what it was, but figured it would come back to you eventually and you’d tell him soon after.

by the end of the day, it was like there was an actual fucking light at the end of the tunnel for you and your sign language two class— you going from being over a thousand percent sure that you were about to pathetically fail the entire course, to having a shiny little sliver of hope because of toge’s ability to get anything through your big head and make you understand, feeling eternally grateful for him in many ways than one.

and you wanted him, so fucking bad, ever since you saw him at the coffee shop, that you thought in that moment while toge set up his bed for you to sleep in while you sat on his desk chair, dressed in his big white t-shirt and pajama pants, that if you just— maayybee tested the waters and crossed the line a little bit without it being too drastic, that you’d get your answer.

but did you want to know? what if he didn’t love you back? what the fuck were you supposed to do then?

cry and wither away, that’s what. you don’t think you’ve ever loved someone as much as you loved toge.

you hear the familiar squeaks of his black marker streaking against his little whiteboard, the sound pulling you from your thoughts and you looked up.

‘you’re so spacey today pretty. are you still worried about your class? :(‘

pretty.

“oh!” you stood. “no toge i feel a lot better about it actually because of you… thank you.”

he grinned, nodding before walking and leaning over his pc to set up his streaming session, mouse clicking away.

“toge—”

he looked over at you with his gorgeous purple eyes and you froze, cheeks heating up as your wobbly lips struggled to come together and fucking speak.

“nevermind nevermind—”

his eyes narrowed, snatching his whiteboard and quickly writing.

‘you did this earlier today too. tell me what’s wrong.’

“no.”

‘no?’ he signed. ‘tell me y/n.’

“no! not my name!” you dived dramatically on his comfy blanket filled bed and groaned. “you only call me by my name when you’re mad and i don’t like it.”

he sat next to you on the edge of the bed and pulled on your shoulder slightly, you fully turning around on your back and looking at him anxiously.

toge wished he could continuously beg you and ask you what was wrong so you’d just tell him— him at times sick of constantly having to pause and make you wait so he could get his point across, a painful fact that never left his mind and made him feel like the biggest burden in your life.

that’s why he never wanted to cross that line you both always seemed to lean over without meaning to. the line that’s kept you both on this limbo of half best friends and half more as he sometimes hugged you a lot longer or snuck in a couple of self indulgent cheek and hand kisses to your skin… but that’s as far as he’d really let himself get. toge didn’t want to permanently have you drag him along in your life no matter how much he wanted to be in it as something way more.

you deserved noise, you deserved loud love, you deserved someone who could actually speak to you— things he mourned over that he could never give you.

and he knew this. he’s known from the moment you walked into the coffee shop the very first time even though you swore up and down that he noticed you later, you unaware that he actually saw you right off the fucking bat on the first day and couldn’t bring himself to look you in the eye— knowing you were going to be the biggest heartbreak of his life and ruin him if he so managed as to let you in when you kept coming back.

but toge was selfish, and he couldn’t help himself.

so he tried to compromise.

there’s nothing wrong with being just friends… right? a casual conversation between two people while he was at work? to then bid goodbye and say hello to every now and then?

except a quick conversation with you turned into ones that lasted almost his entire shift sometimes, and then casual meet ups turned into sleepovers at his apartment when he offered to teach you sign language, and then little hugs of farewell and hello’s turned into him kissing you practically fucking everywhere that wasn’t your mouth with the tightest embraces, him completely going against what he swore he wasn’t going to do and damning himself for life.

and even more so when you had joked about wanting a ring that one day, him actually going out the next day and buying you matching ones even though he didn’t even know if he was strong enough to actually give yours to you.

but toge was still freaking selfish.

because as you looked at him now, your gorgeous face anxious and thought-filled about things he wished you would tell him without worry, the outline and shape of your plush soft lips burning his pupils in such a way that it felt like a privilege, your body in his clothes—

made him want to speak the three worded phrase he was only allowed to say in his sleepy dreams if he was lucky.

“what toge?” you spoke softly, reaching a hand up to delicately card through the front pieces of his pale blonde hair, soft and silky as the outline of his tattooed snake eyes made you a little fuzzy.

he slowly shook his head, a far off look in his eye as he leaned over you, his face close and strained that your eyebrows pinched a little at his expression.

your hand proceeded to gently smooth down from his hair to the side of his cheek, cupping it and caressing over it with your thumb so lovingly that he nearly broke his oath.

if you said that you loved him… he wondered if he would crack. if you confessed and told him that you felt the same way, he juggled the possibility of ruining his own life by giving in and letting you take on the burden of his existence just to have you like he’s always wanted—

“i love you.” you told him.

toge’s big wide afraid eyes stared back at you as you smiled sheepishly, his breath caught in his throat.

“i—” you hesitated, playing with the hem of his shirt. “i really love you. like in the way where i want you to like— kiss me and stuff in your free time…”

he huffed a shocked breath, his face still just alarmed and strained and you started to believe that maybe you actually were delusional and misinterpreted things, his lack of anything making you second guess.

“i’m sorry.” you blurted. “i’m sorry i thought—”

and toge was still selfish as he let his lips fall down and crash against yours, moving so feverishly and hungrily that you couldn’t keep up as he dug his arms underneath you and around before pulling you up flush against his body, wanting you as close to him as humanely fucking possible incase he never got to do this again with you, the possibility horrifyingly still there.

“does this mean—” you spoke in between kisses, breathless. “does this mean you love me too—”

toge broke apart momentarily and quickly nodded, eyes ditzy and clouded as he panted against your lips, drunkenly lowering his head and linking his wet lips with yours again as he sloppily kissed you, laying you back down while you wrung your arms around his neck, you giddy and absolutely fucking enamored with him and that he was finally yours.

except he technically wasn’t… yet…

even when three full weeks had passed.

you still visited toge at work in the coffee shop in the mornings or the afternoon like you always did, ordering the same thing and going in to chat as he wrote his responses on his whiteboard— except now whenever rush hour would conclude, toge would greedily sneak in kisses with you at your table or hold the back of your hand to his cheek as you talked about your classes and your plans for the weekend, his conflicted mind putting his oath on the back burner for now as he tried to relish in the love he’s been wanting for so long.

and you were a little confused as to why toge hadn’t taken the initiative that night and asked you to be his girlfriend, but you didn’t complain, you too caught up in the moment when he would make out with you at his apartment in between study or streaming breaks with his hands literally all over you like a man starved, groping and squeezing at anything he could but never going over that last jump to do something intimate with you, your lovesick mind too in it to care at the moment.

that was the next compromise he made.

if you both just— just stayed this way. no official title no matter how much it pained him just so that he could continue doing these lovely lovely things with you whenever you both wanted, his mind thinking that since you both weren’t technically together that he wasn’t burdening you for life just yet, wanting to keep it this way for as long as he possibly could because toge didn’t fucking know what he was going to do when the time came for making it official.

well yes— he did know. but what he wanted to do and what he should do were two completely different things.

“togeee!” you bounded into the shop one morning, thankful that it was empty as you quickly leaned over the counter and pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek, him smiling wide with a flush to his face in response.

‘hi mouse :) <3’ he wrote on his whiteboard. ‘have you had something to eat yet?’

“i’m good im good! wait i haven’t ate but im good!” you spoke excitedly. “i come with newwsss. really fun news!”

he hummed and nodded, motioning for you to continue as he moved around in the back to get and warm up a breakfast sandwich for you.

“one of my friends from sign language told me she’s throwing a party at her sorority house and invited meee!” you beamed, hearing a little oven ping and then following him to your usual table so the both of you could sit.

toge gently slid your sandwich over upon scooting his chair up, warm and yummy as it sat pretty on a little pastel green plate and him signing ‘eat please’ as you grinned.

“and i know you told me once that you’ve never been to a college party, so i was wondering if you wanted to maybe.. come with me?”

he smiled softly.

‘when?’ toge signed.

“tomorrow night!” you responded, taking a bite out of your breakfast sandwich.

he nodded, thinking a little in his head before sliding his whiteboard over to write.

‘of course ill go mouse but it might be better without me.’

you faltered, swallowing. “without you? why?”

he erased and wrote again.

‘because i can’t talk. your friends might think it’s a little odd.’

“no they won’t.” you countered. “and that’s totally okay, toge. just bring your whiteboard.”

he snorted, shaking his head.

‘i’m not bringing my whiteboard silly that’s even worse.’

“but you’ll be with me.” you reasoned. “and i don’t really talk to anyone at school either besides her so it’s literally just you and i hanging out.”

you wiggled your brows. “and drinkinggg ehh?”

he laughed and eventually nodded, reaching across the table and taking your hands in his as he agreed to go, caressing his fingers over your wrists.

the familiar scent of coffee beans and vanilla— a scent you’ve come to know for almost three years now wafted and swirled around through your nose comfortingly, it permanently reminding you of toge and the time that you’ve spent with him.

he let go of your wrists to write.

‘how was sign language yesterday? are you still good?’

you swallowed the bite you were chewing on and held back a grimace.

“oh i’m doing horrendously again… but it’s all good! ignorance is bliss and i’m choosing hardcore ignorance right now.”

toge’s jaw dropped before he laughed in disbelief and picked up his marker.

‘you’re sleeping over at my place again so i can help you no exceptions sorry about it :p’

you giggled and nodded— saluting him, a mannerism you picked up on from him as he smiled brightly.

“but i do know this!” you exclaimed excitedly as you pressed the bases of your palms together and rubbed, signing the word ‘cheese’— your favorite.

toge laughed cutely and signed the same word back, unable to do much else as the doors chimed to the shop then and a group of students came in, toge’s chair scraping against the floor as he stood before giving you a quick kiss and a ruffle to your hair, his whiteboard in hand as he started making his way to the back.

‘i love you.’ he signed and you bit your bottom lip in a smile, your heart swelling obnoxiously as you watched him shuffle on and tap a few things into the register, nodding along to the groups order as you soon after gathered your things for your afternoon class.

and that night after toge taught you a little more sign language and helped you work on the things you were struggling with, you fell asleep rather earlier than usual on his bed— him reaching for one of his fluffy blankets and draping it over your sleeping gorgeous self and staring, slowly leaning down and pressing the softest kiss ever to your little warm cheek— his chest twisting and contorting with the desire to just fucking give in and stop his stupid ridiculous suffering, to just be selfish one last time and ask you to be his.

and maybe he could.

maybe toge could allow himself this one tiny thing— the most important pretty thing of all, he felt.

just once.

“toge?” you murmured sleepily, eyes pinching a little as you lazily reached out for him.

but what if you grew tired of him? of the silence?

he delicately took your outstretched hand and hummed in question.

“come sleep.” you mumbled. “with me.”

his eyes softened, the corners of his mouth curving as he carefully tapped his index finger against your cheek repeatedly, you straining your eyes open.

‘look under your pillow.’ he signed.

your groggy eyes narrowed in confusion, barely making out what he was signing in the dark but catching key words.

“under my pillow?”

he nodded, pointing.

you breathed in and propped yourself up on your elbow, lifting the pillow you were laying on and suddenly snapping the fuck awake.

a ring.

you shot up, sitting up fully as you looked at him.

he stood and reached over for his whiteboard and marker, uncapping it and writing for a moment before flipping it around and showing you.

‘i got us matching bestest mestest friends but also in love at the same time rings :]’

you picked it up, a dainty thin silver banned ring with a milky white heart in the middle, iridescent as it glowed against the moonlight streaming through his open window.

“toge—” you breathed out. “you actually… you actually got me a ring?”

he wrote, a sly little grin on his face.

‘the tooth fairy did mouse.’

you giggled then, a vibrant pink glow to your cheeks and still a little shocked as he took the jewelry piece from you and gently grabbed your hand, sliding it over your ring finger smoothly, his ring finger already having his shiny silver band on.

he put your hand down and grabbed his whiteboard again.

‘that ring is me promising to help you and love you and kiss you until i die.’ he wrote. ‘okay?’

you quickly nodded, absolutely cheesed as you threw your arms around his neck and pulled toge in— feeling so so happy and fresh and loved, like everything was officially falling into place after nearly three years of semi crossing lines and stolen glances and unanswered questions about what exactly you both were for the longest.

your pretty pretty face had toge in a daze as you looked at him like he carried the world on his shoulders, his mouth slowly coming closer and closer to yours before softly pressing against them— slow and tender as you tugged him down to you by his shirt until he climbed in and was in between your thighs.

each kiss exchange was sensual and a mouthful as you helped toge tug his shirt off over his head, your palms running over his bare skinned chest and back as he deepened his kisses, your hands quickly pulling your shirt off and his eyes bulging at the sight of your puffy tits snug and pretty in your bra.

you were desperate for him and didn’t even have to think twice about something like this as you reached and tugged a little at his jeans, signaling him to take them the fuck off—

‘baby.’ he signed shakily, not even sure why he was asking since he doesn’t think at this point he could stop, but needing to check in with you first. ‘are you sure?’

“fuck yeah i’m sure.” you whispered quickly and unzipped his pants, toge smiling big as he kicked his pants and everything else off, carefully helping you do the same until you were bare and vulnerable in front of him.

toge moved to place a hand on your thigh and you squeaked, suddenly bashful as you shyly covered your arms over your chest and squeezed your thighs together.

he leaned down and placed gentle soft kisses on your cheeks, patting a comforting hand over your head.

‘it’s okay mouse. you’re okay.’ he signed.

you nodded, comfort washing over you as you slowly let your thighs spread and your arms reveal you, his spit catching in his throat at the sight of your gorgeous fucking body beneath him, his dick embarrassingly already leaking a little bit of cum as you watched him pump it a few times.

‘you’re beautiful.’ he signed, and you blushed.

he drooled some spit over his fingers and slid it gently in between your folds, your bottom lip coming in between your teeth as you tried to hold back your moans, his digits prepping you while slipping through your hole deeming it fucking hard as he was completely lost in it, unaware of the way he was riling you up and already building up that familiar sensation in the pit of your tummy.

“t—toge—” your pussy clenched at the way he was fucking you with his fingers, keeping your thighs apart with his other arm as he was completely drowned in the gushy sticky sounds of your hole.

“you’re gonna make me cum and i—” you panted, cute whines slipping from your lips as he looked up at you. “—i wanna cum when you’re inside—”

his cock spasmed and a drop of cum drooped out at your yummy plea, his breathing trembling as he quickly nodded and squeezed your thigh endearingly, slowly slipping his fingers out and stuffing them into his mouth to suck your juices as he pumped his cock while lining it up with your hole.

toge sunk in his dick then, the both of you groaning at the way he filled you up so fucking nice and stretched you, your pussy literally grabbing his cock and sucking him inside easily as you gripped his shoulders tight.

“mmm!—” you whimpered, toge now slowly pumping his cock inside of you as he leaned over and propped himself up by his arms, hips tenderly and deliciously rolling in as he panted and softly whined in your ear.

you were so god damn tight, his throat literally closing at the lock you had around him as he fucked you slow and breathless, one of his hands coming down to grip your waist to try and keep himself grounded and from snapping his hips into yours brutally— him wanting to make love to you and not do that just yet.

toge ducked his head down and licked over a perky tit, your breath hitching and subconsciously spreading your legs wider as he closed his lips around your nipple— suckling and laying a flat tattooed tongue over it as you moaned.

“faster—” pant! “faster please baby—”

with a mouthful of your tit he snapped his hips up, you choking as he started going a lot quicker than you anticipated as your hand flew to your mouth to keep your moans in, your tits bouncing with every fuck.

“oh my god oh my god—”

toge suddenly pulled out and threw you over, tummy to the bed as he hauled your ass up and lined himself at your entrance again, wasting no time in pushing in and screwing you in the same pace he had before.

but this new position was an absolute delicacy as you drooled over his sheets at the way he rammed his cock, the recoil of your ass sending a shiver up his spine and roughly gripping your hips and ass in anyway he could, you screaming and whining into his pillow as a series of slaps to your ass cheeks from him echoed through his little studio.

toge was about to dump the biggest fucking load in you that it was embarrassing.

you reached a hand behind you and he quickly grabbed it, his thumb running over your skin soothingly as he pistoned roughly into your cunt, him groaning and whimpering over the squelching and leaking of your hole as he felt his dick harden— his cum on the brink of release.

“fuck fuck fuck—” you hiccuped into his pillow. “baby i’m gonna cum i’m gonna cum hah!—”

he gripped your hand harder and leaned down over you, rutting into your pussy as he heaved and pressed his lips up against your ear, choking out the word ‘cum’ so softly that it bypassed the confines of his situation, your eyes squeezing shut as the hardest fucking orgasm you had ever had in your life hit you like brick.

you felt toge’s hips snap up and still as his hot milky cum spilled through your walls with a grunt, gooey and slimy as it filled you up and left you squirming at the weight of it.

his breath fanned against your hair as he tried to calm it, his hand moving soothingly up and down your back as you weakly tried to gain back some consciousness, the both of you sweaty and spent with his softening dick sliding out slowly.

toge carefully nudged you back over and kissed you tenderly, his hands traveling from your back over to your tummy and smoothly caressing every part of you down to the sides of your thighs, eyes swelling in utter worship over you as he leaned back to look at you.

‘i love you baby.’ he signed, and you beamed.

and just as toge had finally decided to ask you to be his girlfriend then, to officially let go of the fears he had and let himself have you— there in your arms as you peppered sweet cute kisses all over his face and over his tattooed markings on the corners of his mouth, pulling him further in to rest and sleep?

toge had a horrendous day the following morning that threw it all away.

horrendous.

it started in the morning when he left your sleeping figure quietly with a kiss to your head for his shift at work that day, excited and in a never ending state of bliss from the night before as he drove to the shop.

except he had forgotten his whiteboard at home.

toge had realized when he was already fucking halfway into the drive, a full fledged twenty five minute one that he didn’t have time to go back and repeat as he pulled up to the parking lot— cursing himself for being such a dumbass and wondering how the fuck he was gonna answer specific questions from customers, especially since he was the only one really working today.

he figured he should be fine… right? usually the people that come in already know what to get and they just read it out to him.

but there’s always a few every single day without fail that ask questions toge needed his whiteboard for. and you didn’t have class that day— so the means of you coming down there were for nothing, at least not until the party later that night.

and he didn’t want to ask anything of you…

but he really needed it.

(toge :D): hi pretty mouseee i know you’re asleep i’m sorry but is there anyway you could come to the shop when you wake up and drop off my whiteboard please? i left it on the desk like a stupid fucking idiot EL OH EL

“inumaki.”

toge froze on his walk to open the shop and looked up from his phone, eyes blowing wide.

there his manager stood, who was also the owner of the coffee shop itself, a stern look on his face with crossed arms as they both stood in front of a shattered door and windows, shards of glass twinkling on the floor.

“did you lock up last night?”

toge nodded, eyebrows furrowed as he scanned the ground.

“everything?”

he went to nod again, but stopped.

he did… he did truly he did—

…oh.

he forgot to lock up and cash in the register.

toge quickly stepped over the glass and swung open the shattered door and over to the front counter, sure enough finding the register wide open and battered with not a single fucking penny left inside.

he groaned, his hands shooting up and digging the bases of his palms into his eyes as he leaned back, lips in a thin line at how utterly fucking stupid he was for forgetting to lock up the register and take in the money— the number one thing he was always supposed to do.

“what happened?” his manager asked, hands out. “have you been not locking it up?”

toge scrambled for his phone and pulled it from his back pocket, the thought of his job literally on the line because of this sending him for a fucking ride.

‘i always lock it up, honestly.’ he typed and showed his phone. ‘but i stupidly forgot last night and i can’t express enough to you how sorry i am.’

his manager sighed deeply and dropped his hands, looking over at the open register.

“you’ve consistently been one of my best.” he spoke. “but a mistake like this isn’t something small like forgetting to properly close and wipe down everything or put up the chairs.”

toge nodded understandingly, arms tightly crossed over his chest as he shamefully looked to the side, feeling like the biggest pathetic loser for doing something like this that could’ve been entirely avoided if he just did his damn job correctly.

“it’s alright.” his manager reached and patted a heavy hand to his shoulder. “it happens. it’s just unfortunate that we got broken into right when it did.”

toge looked at him.

“we can’t open today because there’s glass everywhere… so if you can stay and call up the insurance for the shop—” he pointed to the wall, their number amongst others typed and labeled. “—and file an insurance claim in any way you can for me that’d be great. i’m gonna go down to the police station and report.”

toge quickly nodded, typing again on his phone before showing him.

‘okay sounds good. i’m really really sorry and this won’t happen again.’

his manager waved him off with a smile. “don’t sweat, inumaki. i’m pretty sure i did this too when i was working except it was my works safe and not the register…”

softly chuckling, toge nodded once more and gave his manager a tiny wave as he patted his shoulder again before stepping around the glass, leaving.

regardless of being lucky enough to have such an understanding boss, toge still felt like complete and utter shit as he stood behind the counter slumped over after, on hold with the insurance company for thirty minutes now as he stared at the broken shards and the register.

you had gotten toge’s text the minute you woke up and quickly got up to get ready, not even bothering to change into anything different as you left with his pajamas on you and his little whiteboard, hopping into your car and speeding off knowing how much he needed it for work sometimes.

and when you pulled into the shops parking lot, confusedly already noticing scattered glass on the concrete walking up, you froze in front of the coffee shop upon seeing the windows and doors completely shattered— toge propping his forehead up with his palm on the counter solemnly.

“toge?”

he looked up.

“what happened?”

his shoulders dropped in relief and he slowly came around the counter, opening his arms a little and pulling you in as he buried his face into your hair, sighing.

you hugged him back. “are you okay? did this happen right now?”

he shook his head and stepped back, taking the whiteboard from you.

‘someone broke into the shop last night. but i forgot to lock up the register and cash in the money so they stole that too.’

“oh my god!” you gasped, hands flying over your mouth. “fuucckkkk was your manager mad? don’t tell me he fired you—”

toge erased and wrote before flipping the board over.

‘no just disappointed. but i still feel like such a fucking moron for forgetting and i hate that i did.’

“toge..” you sighed sadly, running your hands over his upper arms. “it’s okay you’re human baby. these things happen so don’t feel like that please..”

he nodded a little before ducking down and pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

you smiled and looked around.

“seeing the shop like this is nuts.”

he hummed in agreement.

toge stuck around for a little while, you next to him behind the counter still waiting on hold with the insurance company, feeling awfully bad for keeping you here when he knew you wanted to go shopping for a dress for the party, but him stupidly forgetting again that he couldn’t speak— too caught up in trying to make it up to his manager for his fuck up to think about how exactly he was going to talk to the insurance company on the other line, you demanding to help him.

sometime down the line when the insurance claim was filed, toge’s manager told him that if he wanted to open up the shop for the day he could, and to just sweep up the glass a little from the ground and fix up the place a little so it didn’t look like they just got robbed.

and because toge was still in his self dreaded state of guilt and shame over what happened, he immediately agreed to, trying to make up for his mistake and see if he could double the shop’s earnings for today.

“i could stay toge let me stay.” you pushed, but he only shook his head and sent you off to do the things he knew you needed to do with a pat on the head and a kiss on the cheek, telling you he’d see you at his place to get ready for the party.

but maybe toge was better off telling his manager a bit fat no and going home with you, because it was like everybody that came into the shop following that had eaten a big bag of dicks and salvaged the biggest fucking attitudes out of it to spit back in his face.

no one was understanding him. no one. not a single soul. even when he used his whiteboard to explain everything that certain customers needed, for some reason the extra effort of them having to just read putting them off and yelling and making toge’s shift a living hell.

and it’s not like he’s never managed shifts on his own either— never having an issue and still putting in and preparing orders efficiently like he was supposed to, but he figured the debacle from this morning was setting him off since he couldn’t do anything right at the moment, the attitude he was getting from literally every single fucking customer leaving him wishing he at least had one more person on the floor with him.

but toge was still blaming himself.

why couldn’t anyone understand him? why couldn’t he just speak? his life would be so much easier if he could… and you would’ve been his a long time ago.

so as toge sat there tiredly after work with his eyes closed on a stool next to you in his bathroom, you applying the finishing touches to your hair and makeup— you could practically feel toge’s exhaustion, frustration, and sadness seeping into your skin and insides over the shift he told you he had, your eyebrows pinching anxiously.

“we don’t have to go baby…” you murmured, looking down and playing with the rings on your fingers. “i would much rather stay here with you so you can relax for a little…”

he slowly peeled his eyes open, the sight of you standing there in front of him— so fucking beautiful in your dress and heels and dolled up in the way that you were, made his cheeks buzz pink as he slumped forward and mushed his cheek up against your tummy, wrapping his arms around you and shaking his head.

“are you sure?” you asked gently, running your fingers over his soft hair. “i don’t mind what we do toge… as long as with you i’m okay.”

his heart jumped as he looked up and gave you a cute smile, nodding.

you’d decided to meet in the middle and just go home early so toge could have enough rest for his shift tomorrow, him driving you both to the sorority house and parking a bit down the street amongst dozens of other cars, a little nervous and apprehensive and wondering what he was gonna do if any of your friends came up to talk to him— but the desire to make you happy and accompany you to something that you were so excited for far, far greater.

the night went smoothly for the most part, you in no time at all spotting your friend that initially invited you through the crowd along with some of your other friends that you had no idea were coming in the first place, introducing toge to each one and him giving a small smile and wave in response as he interlaced your fingers and gladly let you lead him to wherever you wanted through the dark and blue lit house, taking sips occasionally of the tequila orange liquor mix from his red solo cup and funnily from yours too— since you had gotten a different punch like flavor that he liked better.

“y/n? i didn’t know you were coming!”

your head snapped to the voice just as you were talking to toge, your eyes widening and a huge smile spreading across your face.

“oh hey! i didn’t know you were either!” you quickly turned to toge. “he’s in my sign language class the one i told you about that teaches us how to cuss—”

your friend laughed, “you talk about me y/n? interestinggg.”

toge quirked a brow.

“not like that—” you slapped his shoulder. “i talk about you so i can build up the stamina to rat you out.”

he gasped dramatically. “says the one who bothered me last class to teach her how to sign the word cunt.”

“no i didn’t— wait actually i did.”

your friend laughed again but diverted his attention momentarily to someone pulling on his arm a bit.

toge nudged you gently and you turned.

‘i’m gonna go get a drink mouse.’ he signed.

“okay!” you nodded. “i’ll wait for you here.”

he nodded, kissing your head before leaving— the kitchen not too far from where you both were originally at as he walked and threw away the drink he had initially and scanned the counter, looking for the fruity punch one you got before spotting it and picking one up from the rows of others, the smell of alcohol filling his nostrils.

“hey sorry to bother, which flavor is that?”

toge froze and looked over, a girl standing there and pointing at his cup.

oh shit.

toge pointed to his cup.

“yeah, which flavor is that one? i’ve tried the others but not that one yet.”

oh fuck.

why couldn’t he just talk?

the girl quirked a brow at his silence, and just when she was about to say something else, someone came through the kitchen.

“i think that one’s tutti frutti but i could be wrong.”

she turned to the other person and nodded, giving toge an awkward look before walking around him to get a cup for herself.

toge covered his eyes with a hand in complete fucking mortifying embarrassment, cheeks warm as he leaned against the kitchen sink in the lowest low he had ever lowed.

or so he thought.

because the sound of your loud pretty laughter had him slowly looking up and taking his hand away, you conversing so— so openly and freely with your friend from sign language triggering a hint of jealousy and bitterness in his chest. bitter as to why he was cursed to deal with something like this, bitter over the loser that was blatantly obviously flirting with you… but jealous of him that he was able to open his mouth and speak to you in whatever words and phrases he wanted, syllables flying out without any sort of pain or blood as a paying price like he had to.

that’s what you needed… that’s what you should have. not him.

not his inevitable silence and whiteboards and constant pauses, his lack of being able to tell you how much he loved you and how much you meant to him whenever, wherever… without being tied down to a marker or a phone.

his mixup from this morning, his customers not understanding him, everybody else not understanding him, has led him to believe that someone as beautiful as you shouldn’t carry the burden of even trying to.

toge knew from the very first time you came into the coffee shop that you were going to unknowingly break his heart if he let you in because of his situation… and fuck did he let you in.

and now he had to break yours so you could find and be with what you deserved.

toge walked over to you then, head down with his jaw tight and mind fogged over as you doubled over in laughter over something your friend said.

“wait—” you gasped. “wait toge he just told me that—”

“is he your boyfriend?” you friend asked, pointing to him.

well, toge still hadn’t really asked you… but he gave you a promise ring, and you were both wearing them tonight so—

your eyes snapped to toge, who was shaking his head no.

…no?

your brows furrowed.

“oh! i thought you guys were together, my bad.”

toge twitched over the way your friend sounded relieved, but you didn’t notice a thing, still looking at him with the most gutting look that made him want to scream.

“yeah.. my bad too.” you mumbled, your friend not catching it as he then got pulled by the shoulder to a different crowd, him calling over that he would come find you later on in the night.

“no?” you repeated to him.

‘come with me outside.’ he signed before slowly walking and leading you back to the kitchen and through the backyard doors, the chilling cold night air a refreshing break from the stuffiness inside.

“if this is a joke it’s not that funny toge.” you mumbled, hugging yourself as you closed the door behind you.

he looked at you sadly.

‘you shouldn’t be with me mouse.’ he signed.

“what?” you breathed out. “what are you talking about?”

‘i can’t give you what you need.’

“what i need?”

he nodded. ‘it won’t work. you and me.’

“toge—” your chest picked up speed, tears prickling a bit at your eyes. “you’re telling me all of this yet no answers— why won’t we work.”

‘you should be with someone that can talk to you and tell you that they love you and say anything without all of this baggage—’

“wait wait slow down i can’t—” you put your hands out. “you’re signing too fast i can’t understand you—”

you couldn’t understand him.

and toge realized that the reasoning he had would be something that you would counter and fight for, and something he would more than one hundred percent give in to you winning just so he could have you again.

he needed to make you hate him so it would be easier for you to move on.

toge dropped his arms, a defeated look on his face as he shoved a hand in his pocket for his phone, typing out a message to you.

you received it on the other end, your phone illuminating your face as you opened it.

(toge :D): i realized after we confessed that this isn’t what i want anymore and im sorry

your jaw dropped, eyes narrowing as you looked up at him.

“what the fuck do you mean.”

his thumbs shook as he typed, his heart pulling and screaming at the muscles and nerves tied to them for him to stop.

(toge :D): we’re better off as just friends. i’m really sorry that i realized after the fact. you deserve someone better anyways and i just don’t think it’s with me.

you let out a sob that ripped him to shreds, hand coming over your mouth in disbelief as you stared at the blurry screen in your grasp.

he realized this after the fact? after messing around with you for almost three years? after confessing to you and saying he loves you? after being intimate?

you felt fucking used.

“you’re realizing this now?” you shook your head. “toge— you realize we’ve been flirting like this for as long as we’ve known each other and all of a sudden you’re pulling back? after you got your fucking fill? after kissing me and telling me that you love me, and— and after—”

you ran an exasperated trembling hand through your hair. “toge we had sex and you’re telling me this isn’t what you want?”

god this is everything he wants.

but toge bit his tongue, him strained all over with a locked painful jaw as you yelled at him, his eyes glossy over how much he was hurting you as he stiffly nodded.

you stepped closer, jabbing a finger to his chest. “look at me in the eyes right now and tell me if our entire fucking friendship before leading up to our bullshit confessions was all a lie. tell me right now if this—” you held your hand up, the promise ring he gave you shimmering under the fairy lights of the backyard. “—was a lie when you promised me that you would always help me and love me.”

toge breathed in and out shakily, swallowing thickly as he slowly nodded, his entire body in absolute detriment.

holy fucking shit.

how long had you been this stupid for you to not realize the kind of person he actually was?

but— but it didn’t make any sense. this wasn’t toge. this wasn’t toge at all you didn’t know who the fuck you were yelling at right now because toge would never do this to you.

“do you know why i’m learning sign language in the first place?”

toge blinked back tears, shaking his head no.

“i started taking sign language for you, asshole!” you sobbed. “when i was stupidly crushing on you at the shop before we talked for the first time, i noticed you knew sign language and i signed up for you so it’d be easier for you to communicate with me without always having to use your whiteboard.”

he felt a pang to his heart, harshly wiping his eyes.

“but even then i don’t fucking care toge! you could have absolutely nothing to talk to me with and i’d still love you and do anything for you because that’s how much i’m in love you!”

you sobbed as your shoulders shook violently, hands covering your eyes.

“glad to know the feelings not mutual.”

oh he takes it back.

he takes it all back.

toge reached for your hands and you pushed him away.

“you’re so full of shit toge.” you sniffled. “if this is what you want then fine. take this fucking—”

you slipped the ring off from your finger and threw it at him, the feeling of it thudding against his chest and clinking to the ground beneath his feet close enough to a damn bullet.

he shook his head frantically, picking up your ring and following you up the steps of the porch, grabbing your hand and pulling you back, but you only shaking it off and trudging on forward.

“mouse—” he spoke. “please stop—”

the sound of his rare voice made you freeze in place, unmoving and feeling guilt pool in your stomach at the sound of him reeling over and coughing violently as a result.

he spoke to you… but his dreaded words from earlier still lingered in your mind, betrayal etched into your chest like a tattoo.

“don’t call me that.” you mumbled over your shoulder, swinging the door open to the kitchen and slamming it shut.

toge heard nothing from you for four weeks.

even through all of the calls and texts he sent you, he started to conclude that you actually blocked his number the moment you left him that night, unable to see his actual explanation through the masses of messages he sent you and still continued to even after confirming the thought that you had blocked him.

he couldn’t believe himself. he couldn’t believe he actually hurt you and drove you away like that.

and toge had never felt so much self hatred, missing you like fucking crazy throughout those weeks— it reminding him of that one time when you first started getting to know each other where you disappeared for a week, except far far worse now that you had both built so much together over the years.

his life felt empty now that you weren’t in it.

and funnily enough, his job— something he had gotten before you, now solely reminding him of you as he tried to work without throwing something over the random flashbacks he’d have of that night, blending and serving drinks and sliding them over the pickup counter all meaningless if you weren’t there at your usual table to give him a cheeky smile and sign the word ‘cheese’ to make him laugh on the other side.

his little mouse.

and toge silently cried almost every night at his desk, him clutching your ring.

you were basically the same way as him, if not fucking lower as you were the one that was practically presumably dumped and used, you unable to sleep for hours on end in your bed and your parents wondering what the hell happened between the two of you as they tried to console your tears through your restless nights, you half in denial that this was your reality and toge was out of your life.

after some time, you realized that you had left nearly half of your things in toge’s apartment, it settling into your mind how much time you actually spent with him and not at your own house as you constantly found yourself needing things but couldn’t have them because they were over there— one of those things unfortunately being your freaking sign language textbook.

there was absolutely no way you could get it, and you opted to borrowing your friends for the longest time… but by the time you reached the beginning of the fifth week without toge, you started feeling really bad for continuously bothering your friend for her book when you could just suck it up and get yours.

so you made your jumbled mind up and reached for your phone one day after your morning class, going to toge’s contact number and unblocking him before texting.

(you): hi. sorry to bother but i left some things in your apartment that i need. i was wondering if i could come by today to get them.

toge nearly jumped out of his skin at your pretty name flashing across his phone while he was lazily and depressingly laying in bed, scrambling to type back not even a minute later.

(toge): yes of course

(toge): i’m home right now if you want to come

(toge): and you’re never a bother

you pursed your lips, a lump building in your throat.

(you): okay. i’ll be there in a few minutes.

toge flung his scattered clothing inside his closet or literally anywhere that was out of eyesight, trying to turn his rut of a room back to how it looked like when you were always here, shaking out a big garbage bag and throwing all of his trash in there (along with all of the cake pop, cheese danish, and blueberry scone wrappers…), opening the blinds and straightening out his sheets.

you pulled into his apartment complex parking lot and parked not too long after, your hands drenched in sweat and your body rigid as you came up to his floor and over to his apartment number, knocking even though you had the key.

you almost turned back to leave once you heard his padded footsteps, but decided against is as he was already opening the door.

and my god, seeing him hurt a lot more than you thought it would.

his eyes were soft as they looked at you, and red like yours, him quickly stepping to the side to let you in and you doing so with your head down, not saying a single word.

“i think—” you shakily spoke, eyes already watering as he closed his door with a click. “i think i’m just gonna get my sign language textbook for now i’ll come back some other time for the rest—”

you felt a little tug at your hand, and you turned, his shoulders slumping at your teary eyes, stray droplets slipping down your cheeks already.

‘please don’t cry.’ he signed. ‘i’m so sorry for everything.’

you snorted, shaking your head as you reached behind you to get your textbook.

“sorry for stringing me along and using every part of me until you were bored? sure.”

he frantically shook his head no, panic rising in his chest as he watched you step around him and head for the door.

he couldn’t let you leave.

because he had a feeling if he did, he actually would never see you again.

toge quickly grabbed your wrist and tugged you back around.

“what toge—”

‘stay for a bit.’ he shakily signed. ‘please just stay and let me explain.’

you followed his signage, and your eyes narrowed. “explain what? there’s nothing to explain—”

toge swiped his phone from his bed and opened it, going to your contact to type out a message.

you hesitantly pulled yours out and waited, your phone vibrating against your hand once he sent it over.

(toge): i lied about absolutely everything i said that night. i don’t think any of those things at all. i’ve wanted you so fucking bad from the start y/n, i’ve been ready to be with you i don’t think for a second we’re better off as friends i want more with you always and for the rest of my life.

what?

he sent another message.

(toge): i said what i said because throughout our friendship i told myself like a fucking idiot that i couldn’t let you all the way in because i can’t talk. i kept thinking that you needed someone who you can talk to you whenever you want without having to always step back and read or write like you have to with me. i didn’t want you to carry that baggage and deal with me and i just felt like a burden, and i love you so fucking much that i wanted better for you.

you sniffled and wiped your cheeks, you rubbing away lonesome tears that landed on your phone screen.

(toge): but i’m selfish baby i’ve BEEN selfish. i said those horrible things to you so it’d be easier for you to move on and im so sorry. none of them are true. i don’t want you to move on from me. i didn’t use you i could never and that night we had sex was the most meaningful experience of my life. i love you more than anything in my life, and im gonna be selfish again and please ask you to come back to me. you’re my best friend and more, and i still believe that you need someone better and that can give you more than i can, but i just can’t let you go man i’ve been physically sick for four weeks without you.

you cried still and he typed again.

(toge): i’m selfish and i’m in love with you mouse. i’m sorry.

“toge!” you cried and chucked your phone to his bed, flinging your arms around his neck and pulling him in a tight embrace— the weight completely lifting off both of your shoulders at the feeling of your bodies pressed against each others like a perfect little key in a lock, toge hugging you back so so fucking tight with his face in your neck that he practically squeezed the air out of your lungs entirely.

“i love you.” he spoke, his words incredibly powerful in your ear even though it couldn’t have been more than a mere whisper, the sound and depth of his voice ringing through your head and one you wanted to remember forever and ever, feeling so incredibly loved over the fact that he’d use his voice for you even when it hurt him so much.

but he really didn’t need to. you just wanted him.

and you’ve never been so happy to hear someone tell you that they lied.

toge pulled back a bit and turned his head to the side, stuffing his mouth into the crook of his elbow and coughing.

you pressed your cheek against his once he was done, kissing it a few times beforehand and him closing his eyes at the feeling of your lips on his skin after so long.

“you okay?” you murmured softly, and he nodded.

“i love you too, toge.” you tightened your arms around his neck. “please don’t ever think that you’re a burden or giving me baggage to carry. i’ve never ever felt that way and neither should you.”

you stepped back and cupped his cheeks.

“i need you, baby. i don’t need anything or anyone else but you. someone that has the ability to talk can’t give me even ten percent of what you’ve been giving me. i’m happy with you. the happiest i’ve ever been is when i’m with you… okay?”

toge grinned, huge and shiny as he nodded and leaned forward and captured your lips in a kiss— the both of you utterly deprived as your mouths smacked and moved in haste, his hands running and squeezing over your body with labored breathing between the two of you.

he pulled apart for a second and you stopped.

“what baby?” you breathed, watching as he raised his arms.

‘please be my girlfriend mouse.’ he signed. ‘or i’ll die.’

you giggled cutely and a blush rose on both of your sore cheeks from smiling so much, you happily nodding and roughly pulling him back in to continue.

and how lucky was toge to have such a sweet little mouse that cared for him this much? for someone who couldn’t even speak? who had the greatest level of patience and not once ever complained about the burden she had to carry?

you learned sign language for him. solely for him. the reasons he was thinking about how he’d be baggage to you, was amazingly the total opposite on your end, as you didn’t want to be baggage to him when it came down to communication with you— as if something like that were ever even possible.

and you learned sign language for him— a totally beautiful and different and complex language that was iterated through the feeling of arms and body, to be read across with purposeful moving hands and symbols and diligent fingers— somehow looking even more beautiful when it was you that was doing it.

silence was toge’s greatest form of love… one that you received with open arms and acceptance without a twinge of judgement in your heart, and one that toge only ever wanted you to receive.

you.

his little mouse.

taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):

@cupcaketeddybehr @soobiary @roachfun @waterfal-ling @saebaey @reneinii @luvvmae @cake-with-the-cream @pixie-dix @2ukika @cramelmacchiao @hy3phiren @fushigurioo @wil10wthetree @jameinfrau @pancakeszs @drftnzume @k0z3me @k4zivy @dindjarins1ut @starrnai @tinyray-lovesfood @iloveoldermenn @dazqa @applepi25 @aria-chikage @blu3-l0v3r @rose-tlnted-kalopsia

if you asked to be on my taglist but i missed you please let me know!! and also let me know if i accidentally tagged you but you didn’t ask GAHAHA LOVE YOUU

[noughticalcrossings]

Put thee not on Silent

[ID: A 4 panel comic made of digital paintings of a zoom meeting between the knights of the Round Table.

Sir Galahad, Queen Guinevere, Sir Gawain, Sir Lancelot, Sir Bedivere, have their own individual screens, and one screen shows a conference room with King Arthur, Sir Mordred, and others who are not named.

Both Sir Lancelot and Queen Guinevere have their cameras turned off, and microphones muted, the entire time.

Panel 1 shows King Arthur with a few of his knights, with Sir Mordred brooding beside him in shadows, and a hand reaching from offscreen to steal snacks from a bowl.

Sir Galahad has his microphone muted, and is in a forest, looking up and to the side. He has brown hair up above his head and very pale skin.

King Arthur asks, "Sir Gawain, canst thou see the PowerPoint slides?"

Panel 2 shows Sir Gawain, who has brown skin, black hair, green clothes, and heterochromia, with one green eye and one dark, replies, "Verily I cannot, I think it be a miasma of the sight."

Behind him for the background is a section from the Green Knight manuscript, showing faded lettering and a green knight on a green horse standing in front of someone with a large axe while a crowd of spectators watch from the sides.

Sir Galahad's screen is now slightly motion-blurred, showing a reddragon's open mouth in front of Sir Galahad's face.

Panel 3 shows Sir Bedivere, labeled Tech Support, who wears a blue shirt and a plumed knight's helm, looking exhaustedly into the camera, pushing his helmet visor up with one hand. He is lit by blue light and has bags under his eyes, asking: "Hast thou sharest the screen?"

His background is of a library. Sir Galahad's screen is now taken up by the motion-blurred side of the dragon that is attacking him.

Panel 4 shows Sir Gawain turned slightly to the side, looking derisively at the camera, saying: "Yea, but I cannot hear Sir Galahad."

The only thing left in Sir Galahad's screen is the motion-blurred, spade shaped tail tip of the dragon chasing him.

End ID.]

Description very kindly added by @describe-things

[s0dium]

Needier

A/n: Thanks for all the support. It is not necessary to read pt.1 to read this <3

Word Count: 3.6k

Pt.1

Warnings: Pervert Yuuta, panty sniffing, pining, male masturbation, pre mature ejaculation, edging, pussy eating, thigh humping, mentions of breeding, slight dubcon, multiple orgasms, pussy drunk

Yuuta Okkatsu would like to say that he is a patient man.

In fact he would even pride himself on this quality, that no matter how thin his restrain was stretched, no matter how much he was tested, out in the open, Yuuta Okkatsu remained composed

Of course, you wouldn’t know that. No, you certainly have no idea what a patient man Yuuta has been. Been for you. You have no idea that since that day, simply being near you is the ultimate test of his restraint. That every accidental touch sent a surge of electricity through his veins, coursing hot blood straight to his dick, and a swarm of most unholy thoughts on what he'd fucking do to you. You certainly haven't the faintest clue that beneath his calm smile, dark tired eyes, and casual conversation, his mind explores your body, fucks you until your creaming all over him, and makes you swallow every last drop of cum he'd fuck into your cute mouth.

There are times when he treads a line though. Subtly, almost imperceptibly, Yuuta finds excuses to be near you, to catch the faint scent of your shampoo or the unique fragrance that seems to encapsulate your essence. One time, he found himself in the dorm's laundry room, where your belongings were left slightly askew, a common sight among the hustle of Jujutsu student life. Among the disarray, a piece of your laundry accidentally catches his eye—pink underwear and a beige bra. His heart races with a mix of guilt and absolute longing as picks up the fabric and he buries his nose into the cloth, desperately breathing in your smell.

"F-fuck" Yuuta groans upon breathing your scent. How could you smell so fucking sweet? Damn it, his dick is already getting hard. But almost as quickly as he picked it up he puts your underwear down, chastising himself for the lewdness of his actions, the vulgarity.

Yes, Yuuta has resolved to bide his time. He will wait for the perfect moment, a serene pause in the rush of daily life, it is then when he will confess his feelings to you. It is then he won't have to be patient anymore.

His restraint always wavered at nightfall though. This night was no exception. Throughout the day, glimpses of you in your gym shorts and tank top haunted him, aroused him, etching a vivid image that refused to fade with the setting sun.

As he retreated to his room, the weight of the day's impressions bore down on him. The moment the door clicked shut, a sigh escaped his lips as he pulled out his dick and languidly fisted his length. Pre-cum was already dribbled on his pretty pink tip but he used the milky liquid to guide his hand up and down in fast fluid motions.

"Please, f-fuck please y/n" He whined, stumbling over to his bed where he could pull out the polaroid you took of him and yourself together. What would you think if you knew he had fucked himself almost every night to this seemingly wholesome selfie you took? Through heavy eyelids he gazes upon your face, the motion of his hand speeding up as the thoughts of you intensified. He wants to feel you so bad, be inside you, feel your walls squeeze around him struggling to take him in. How would your moans sound? How would your boobs feel like in his large palms, would you let him eat you out? Oh what a dream that would be, Yuuta doesn't think he'd stop licking your cunt if he ever got your chance. Yes, he'd make you feel so good, you'd make him feel so good, so much better than his fist, he's so close to cummin-

*ping*

Amidst the pleasure, Yuuta feels the vibration of his phone on his bed. He doesn't want to look not now, not now when he's so close, but his eyes accidentally wander to the screen, widening when they see the message is from you.

Blinking back the pleasure, Yuuta stops his ministrations, wipes his dominant hand on a piece of tissue, and grabs his phone. The screen lights up, and a jolt of surprise sends his heart plummeting when he sees your name. The message is simple,

"Wanna come over for a movie night in ten?"

His response is almost immediate.

"Yeah sure."

Yuuta's fingers tremble as he sends the message. Is this it? Is this the chance he has been waiting for? Hastily, he cleans his hands with a towel, discarding his current attire for something more casual. Stifling a soft groan, he tucks his half-hard dick into his sweatpants under his boxer's waistband. Then he replaces his white uniform coat with a graphic t-shirt, a more relaxed and inviting look

Checking his appearance in the mirror, he runs a hand through his black hair. He's always wondered how you perceived him. Did you find him as attractive like he did to you? Finally, unable to wait any longer, he exits his room. The short walk to your door feels like an eternity, each step heavy with a mix of nerves and excitement. He arrives, takes a deep breath to steady himself, and knocks softly.

Yuuta's breath almost catches in his throat when you open the door and his eyes fall upon your body and what you are wearing. You stand behind the door, bathed in the dim soft light of your bedroom, wearing a simple white tank top that Yuuta thinks is almost ethereal against your skin. One strap hangs loosely, teasingly off your shoulder, revealing the gentle curve of your collarbone and the subtle hint of your breast's outline. The fabric, light and airy, falls just short enough to offer a glimpse of your cute stomach and your black shorts that cling to your curves, sculpting the fat of your ass and the contours of your hips.

Is this what an angel look like Yuuta wonders?

"Yuu, hello Yuu, are you listening?" you wave your hand gently in front of his dazed eyes, trying to snap him back to the present.

"Oh yeah," Yuuta chuckles softly, "sorry just a little tired."

"Well you dont have to stand there come in!" you say through a smile, opening the door and stepping aside so Yuuta can come into your room.

As Yuuta steps over the threshold, a wave of your room's scent envelops him—the subtle blend of lavender and vanilla that he's caught hints of whenever you've been close, but never this intense. The scent sits on his tongue making Yuuta's head grow fuzzy. It's inviting, sweet, and intimate, filling the space with a warmth that makes the room seem cozier than its plain decor suggests.

Your room is tidy, with a soft pink rug adding a splash of color against the otherwise neutral tones. Your laptop is open on the bed, surrounded by a few scattered notes and pens. You sit down on the edge of the mattress, the bed shifting slightly under your weight, and pat the spot next to you, a silent invitation for him to join.

He takes a moment, thickly swallowing before moving towards you and taking the offered seat. The bed dips under his weight, bringing him slightly closer.

"So," you start, your voice a soft murmur in the quiet of the room, "wanna watch the new haikyuu movie? Ive been dying to see it'"

"S-sure" Yuuta manages to nod, his voice catching on the single syllable as he tries to focus on what you're saying rather than how close you are. He doesn't think he's ever been this close to you, your bodies are practically touching. He can see your facial expressions up close, and catch things he's never noticed before; like the twitch of your eyebrow or how you lick your lips when you focus on something 

The movie begins with its vibrant opening scenes, characters leaping across the screen in intense volleyball matches, but you couldn't even ask Yuuta the names of the characters. It seems to be about some guys getting their panties in a twist over volleyball ball. He doesn’t know and frankly, he doesn’t care. He's too acutely aware of your presence just inches away, the warmth of your shoulder brushing against his every so often. How if he really tried, he could lean in and see down your shirt.

He takes a deep breath, trying to steady his racing thoughts, and steals a glance at you. God you are beautiful. He wants to say something, to make some comment about the movie to show he's paying attention, but words fail him. Instead, he just shifts slightly, moving a fraction of an inch closer to you under the pretense of getting a better view of the screen.

Something important must've happened because suddenly, you grab his thigh in reaction to a particularly intense scene in the movie. The sudden touch sends an electric jolt through him, and his dick jumps with excitement. Yuuta has to bite his lip to stifle a groan just from your touch. His face flushes a deep red, and he turns to look at you, catching your excited expression as you watch the screen. Of course you have no idea what you are doing to him.

Yuuta tries to refocus on the movie, but it's a futile effort. The warmth of your hand seeps through his clothing, igniting a fire that makes his dick strain against his waistband. His mind races with thoughts of turning to you, of closing the distance between you with a kiss that he's been fantasizing about. Is this it? Is this the moment he has been waiting for? Yuuta swallows hard, his mouth dry, his thoughts swirling with the possibilities of what could happen if he just leaned in and fucking kissed you.

Now, now now.

Yes, Yuuta is a patient man, until he isn't.

Without another moment's hesitation, Yuuta acts on the impulse that has been building within him. His hand, shaky with anticipation and nerves, reaches out to gently grasp your chin, turning your face towards him. The sudden contact startles you, pulling your attention away from the screen to his intense, longing gaze.

"Yuu- what?" You say softly but he doesn't respond. Instead, as if driven by a force beyond his control, Yuuta leans in and his lips meet yours in a kiss that is both tentative and desperate. It's, needy, messy, and hungry, his lips devouring yours with all the pent-up yearning and silent adorations he's harbored, a kiss that speaks to how god damn patient he's been.

Your initial shock gives way to the unfolding reality of the moment. The warmth of his lips against yours sends a surge of emotion through you, mingling surprise with an escalating thrill. He didn't know it, but you have been patient too.

Yuuta's heart races as he senses your hesitation melting away. This can't be real, you are actually kissing him back. Your lips are so soft against his, Yuuta is damn near having an out-of-body experience from how sweet you taste. His fingers slide into your hair, deepening the kiss with a gentle assertiveness, as if afraid you might pull away. But you don't. Instead, you lean into him, parting your lips to let his tongue slide in and entangle with yours. Your own hands find their way to his broad shoulders, gripping them for balance and perhaps, in a way, for anchorage amidst his desperation.

As your lips part, you both are left breathless, a string of saliva connecting your panting mouths. You feel warmth blossom in your stomach when you meet Yuuta's gaze. He looks entirely bothered, pupils blown and dark black hair tousled from your roaming hands.

"More, please" Yuuta barely whispers before meeting his lips with yours again. This time he's bolder, one of his hands snaking under your white top to cup your boobs. "Oh fu-" He groans into your mouth, feeling the fat of your breasts fill in the gaps of his fingers as he squeezes and presses on the squishy skin.

Suddenly, Yuuta moves, his body positioning over yours in a fluid, careful motion and so his groin is on top of your thigh. For a moment your too absorbed in his messy kiss that you almost miss how he starts to grind his dick against your thigh.

"Ngh so good," Yuuta moans into your mouth, dragging his clothed crotch up and down your lower thigh, full on humping it. He knows he should stop, that he shouldn't be acting like some pervert, but Yuuta's brain is so fuzzy, so lost in the realization that you reciprocate his feelings and that this is actually happening, that he can't bring himself to do anything besides hump your leg like a he's in heat.

"Yuu, please...." You whine amongst his incessant kisses. You can feel a wet spot start to form on his sweatpants and you moan at the feeling of being used like a sex toy.

Yuuta wants to say something, something about how good he's feeling, something about the buzzing in his head and the warmth spreading through out his body. But he can't. Everything feels too good right now, too heavenly he can't even open his eyes or ignore the colors dancing across his eyelids. Your tongue feels so good against his, and your lips are so soft, he can't help but rut against your soft skin faster and harder, he can't stop himself from climbing high and higher into a euphoric bliss.

Then, it hits him. With a choked whine into your ear, Yuuta cums into his pants, leaving your thigh wet and sticky.

"Oh god baby I'm so sorry," he babbles, choking on each syllable from the aftershocks of his orgasm. Shit shit shit. How could be fuck up the opportunity so badly? Surly you were going to be disgusted by him, any moment now you were going to ask him to leave.

Reluctantly, he lifts his head to meet your gaze, taken aback by what he sees. You're panting, cheeks flushed, lips glossy from his kisses, and your eyelids heavy with arousal.

"No no, It's okay, Yuu" you murmur, petting the back of his black hair, "I mean, we can stop if you want-"

"No!" Yuuta cuts you off. "Please, I... I want this. Wanna fuck you so badly baby please." He whines into your neck, peppering kisses on your soft skin.

And how could you stay no?

You nod and Yuutas eyes light up. Immediately he’s pulling down your pants and underwear, eyes widening at the sight of your cunt. If you wanted, Yuuta thinks he could cum again just from looking at you. Your first instinct is to close your legs, to shield yourself from being so exposed from Yuuta's intense gaze. However, two strong hands firmly grasp the underside of your thighs and press them towards you, effectively folding you in half and spreading you wide open.

"Yuu..." You whine, but your protests fall upon deaf ears. Right now Yuuta is in a whole other world. Right now, in this moment, Yuuta thinks he must have died and gone to fucking heaven. His tongue darts out to wet his lips because oh god he is practically drooling right now at the sight of you. He knew you where beautiful but Jesus christ. He releases one of your thighs to spread your wet folds with his pointer and thumb, pupils dilating at the sight of your tight hole clenching around nothing.

"Yuu pl~"

Yuuta doesn't let you finish the sentence because he is already on you, his eager hot mouth enveloping your twitching clit, licking and sucking. His tongue flattens, softly lapping at your sensitive pearl before swirling it around, fast and gentle enough to have you whining.

“Oh god yuuta m’ gonna c-cum”

Your voice has him moaning into your cunt and aggressively rutting his hips into the bed for relief. At this rate he was going to cum before you again, and that couldn't happen, no he needed to be inside you first.

Yuuta immediately relinquishes his ministrations on your pussy with a loud ’pop’ making you whine at the loss of your release that was so close.

“Not now baby ok?" He says through a groan. "Wanna feel you first, been dreaming about."

Yuuta's pulling down his sweatpants now, and you watch with wide eyes as his long length springs out. You don't know what you expected but you didn't expect him to be so big. Pre-cum dribbles down his pink tip and along the length of his member.

"Yuu, I dont think- I think its gonna hu-" You choke out but your words fall upon deaf ears. He's already aligning himself with your hole, and you jerk at the pressure of his tip against you.

"Slow, slowly please." You whisper and Yuuta wants to listen to you, he really does, but every cell in his brain is screaming at him to do the opposite. Yuuta stills against you, and for a moment you think he's going to say something, even acknowledge your words.

"M'sorry baby." He murmurs into your ear before bullying his length all the way inside of you. The world spins and for a second Yuuta's mind goes completely blank, he doesn't even hear the moan that's been ripped from your throat. All the nights he's fantasized about this moment, the hours he spent jacking off and touching himself, everything, all disappeared the moment he slipped inside you. You felt good? Try euphoric. Yuuta wasn't even thinking thoughts he was seeing colors. How could he ever think his fist could compare to you? The way your walls sucked in and hugged him, so wet and warm, god, no amount of fantasizing could've compared to the real thing.

“Y-you gotta l-loosen up baby or im gonna ah~”

It was all too much, he had just slipped in you, and yet and he was down for the count. Everything was too good too fast, he couldn't stop the high that was approaching even if he wanted to.

"fuckfuckfuck baby pl-" Its too late. Thick ropes of cum spill inside you, there's so much of it it's escaping from the sides of his dick and dripping out your hole.

You whine at the warm feeling blossoming in your stomach, and before you can even get a word in, Yuuta reels his hips back and slams into you.

“No not gonna stop,” He said through gritted teeth and your eyes widen when you feel his already hard again dick continue to push into you.

Your toes curl at the sensation of Yuuta's dick pressing against your cervix. The friction and the stretch of his member has your mouth falling open and your tongue panting out. In a great display of strength, he pulls both of your legs over his shoulders and grabs your hands to pin them down with his. The new position has his dick reaching spots you could only dream about hitting with your fingers, and as his thrusts speed up, you desperately hold onto Yuuta hands with yours.

"So good yuu!" You wail as he presses kisses along your neck, his hips not so much as stuttering as they thrust in and out of you like he is in heat.

“So good baby you feel so good wanna fuck you every day, never stop fucking you." He feverishly groans into your skin. Every time he thrusts into you, his hips reel back so his length leaves you almost empty, only to ram back into you again to keep you full and dumb on his dick.

Unable to handle the sensation, your back arches and your heels dig into the muscles of his back. Yuuta doesn’t let up his pace, in fact, he increases it, pounding your cunt like he will never get a chance again. He wants to make you shake, make you moan and whine with pleasure, and fill your brain with only thoughts of him until you're begging him to fuck you more and more. His mind is foggy, everything just feels and looks so good, he’s not even thinking when he lets go of one of your hands and shoves his two fingers in your mouth, digits pressing down on your tongue and swirling around in the spit.

“Your gonna let me use you when ever I want right? Gonna be good for me right?"

You nod repeatedly, sucking on fingers like candy.

"Gotta lot of time to make up for, for teasing me so long"

You can tell he's close because his words start to end in curses, and his breath his getting ragged and faster. Luckily for him, you're close too. The pleasure building in your core is starting to become unbearable, and the muscles in your leg where becoming weary from how long they have been tightened.

"Please cum on me baby," Yuuta begs into your ear, punctuating his words with sharp fast thrusts.

Fap,Fap,Fap

The sound of his skin against you filled your ears and almost as soon as Yuuta asks, your hurled toward the best orgasm you have ever experienced. You felt like your mind was exploding, like electric white hot arrows of pleasure coursed through your vains. You could feel your body shakes from the euphoria, and Yuuta watches you with blown pupils as you cum on his dick.

"S-so pretty when you cum, your so pretty to cu-" Yuuta is quick to follow, and with a whine his body tenses up and his back arches like a bow. As he blows his load, you feel his warmth soak your battered pussy and his hot breath panting against your ear. Yuuta almost feels drunk right now from how intense the pleasure is and his mouth partly falls open as his orgasm washes over him. Even as his dick starts to soften, he still ruts himself into you, riding the aftershocks of his orgasm.

"So good baby so so good." He murmurs into your ear.

Yuuta is so glad he doesn't need to be patient anymore.

Tags: @saintani @strxwberryfetish @memi-sempai @thejujvtsupost @shuuji71 @yutaokkotsuluver @nyxypoo @kaiyanaarichi @procyonnn @fdeegbffi @isagistar @lei-athara @paper--angel @mayiw @badbclub @anathemaspeaks @atinymonbebestay @korebringerofded @lea-is-lame @leviswifey-act62 @hyperfixationer @soraokkotsu

[slttygeto]

SO, YOU GOT A BOYFRIEND? | GETO S.

synopsis: when watching a certain scary movie gives your husband, suguru, the perfect idea on how to ruin you.

c.w: p0rn with plot, fem!reader, reader is referred to as “good girl” “pretty girl”, mask kink (hehe<3), slight fear play, fingering, cunnilingus, dirty talk, suguru talks you through it, praise kink, strength kink if you squint, im obsessed with suguru's arms, clit smack, multiple orgasms.

word count: 2,1k

note: i am BRICKED after writing this. happy halloween hehe.

ghostface suguru! ( @aurelianamu )

In a dimly lit room, at around 10PM—it was a bit cold outside, the perfect weather to snuggle up and watch some movies. Romance movies? No, you did that last week. Action movie? Eh, you were not in the mood for that—oh, Scream. Your thumb presses on the movie before you put the remote control down and walk towards the kitchen to grab some snacks.

“Sugu, I picked a movie!” you announce as you make your way out of the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn and two drinks. Your husband marches down the stairs in a lazy manner, his long strands messily sticking out of his ponytail that he has to stop and tie it up again. He sees what movie you picked and he stands behind you on the couch.

“Scream?” he questions, hands resting on your shoulders.

“First movie, pretty iconic.”

“I don’t think it’s that scary though,” he doesn’t really say that he would rather watch something else, simply joins you on the couch and pulls you towards him with the bowl of popcorn resting on your lap.

The movie is indeed not that scary, you kept quoting some of the lines here and there, which earned you a chuckle from Suguru every time.

“No, please don’t kill me Mr. Ghostface I wanna be in the sequel,” you say in the same voice and attitude and your husband runs a hand through your hair.

“I think you’d easily outsmart him,” your husband is very supportive of you, but instead of making fun of his statement, your heart thrums in your chest when you picture Suguru in the ghostface mask.

“Really?” you look up at him through your eyelashes but Suguru is staring ahead and doesn’t notice the eyes you’re giving him.

“Yeah, they’re all pretty stupid—minus Sidney, I mean the fact that—“ your husband goes on a three minute ramble about the plot, how he appreciates the intelligence of the main character all while saying that the choice of the ghostface killers was nice. Unbeknownst to him, you were thinking of something else. Something far dirtier than intended.

“Baby,” you cut him off from his ramble and he hums in response.

“You’d be pretty hot as ghostface.” Suguru looks down on you when you say that and raises both eyebrows knowingly.

“Are you insinuating something?” To which you shrug your shoulders before staring back at the big screen in your living room, playing innocent.

“Just saying.”

You weren’t just saying, you knew exactly what you were doing. The next day, you’re sat on your bed folding laundry while watching the newest episode to your favorite podcast. You liked keeping your brain stimulated, and it distracted you from the fact that your husband was always gone for long hours during the day. But when you hear the keys rustling and the front door opening, you raise an eyebrow but don’t question it. Today’s mission must’ve been quick, you think to yourself.

“Welcome home!” you call out from your bedroom but don’t bother to get up, you knew he would come to your bedroom immediately so you keep your eyes on your computer and go back to folding the laundry.

A couple of minutes pass and Suguru doesn’t walk inside the bedroom, so you start getting a little suspicious and decide to go check on him.

“Sugu?” you walk out of the bedroom and notice how the lights downstairs are turned off. You remember leaving them on for him, so he must’ve turned them off on his way upstairs—but where was he?

“Baby, are you in the shower?” the lights in the bathroom were on but the door was closed. Suguru never walked to the bathroom first without greeting you—unless something was wrong. You put your hand on the door handle, but before you could twist the knob, a warm and rough hand covers your mouth and your blood runs cold when you’re being pulled into a different room.

You don’t have time to scream or panic, because when you’re being pinned to the wall by a rather familiar set of hands, your eyes almost bulge out of your skull when you notice the ghostface mask. You’re breathing heavily, cheeks flushed but there’s no sign of panic because you know who this is—the dragon tattoo peeking out of his shirt and the wedding band on his ring finger are enough evidence.

“Do you like scary movies?” Suguru’s voice sounds silky smooth, but the flirting connotation to it has your heart leaping out of your chest.

“Sugu—“

“Wrong,” he pins both hands above your head and his body is so close to yours that you feel the heat radiating off of it. “Let’s try again, I know my girl is smart.”

Your breath is caught in your throat, but you play along and nod sheepishly.

“Do you like scary movies?”

“Mhm,”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?” He traces a finger over your cheek, and the arousal slowly starts pooling between your legs.

“Hm, I don’t know,” you reply in a similar flirtatious tone, nervousness long gone. The realization that you didn’t have to explicitly tell your husband about the ghostface mask and him buying it for your pleasure made all of this very thrilling.

“You have to have a favorite, what comes to mind?”

“Hm, Halloween,” you stick to the same script of the movie, you buck your hips towards him but he pushes a knee between your legs and pins you again to the wall. “Y’know, the one with the guy with the white mask that walks around and stalks baby sitters?”

“Yeah,” Suguru breathes out and takes in how gorgeous you look like this—how he should’ve thought of doing this a long time ago. Your eyes were blown out with lust, chest heaving in excitement all while allowing him to play with you like this. He could feel his pants tighten and his cock was slowly getting hard from knowing exactly what was coming.

“What’s yours?” you bring him out of his thoughts and although you can’t see his face, you know that he was giving you that signature charming smile that always won over your heart.

“Guess.” He purrs out and you subconsciously start grinding against his knee before giving him a reply.

“Nightmare on Elm Street,”

“Wrong,” Suguru goes off script and your lips part for a moment. You’re about to complain, tell him that this wasn’t in the movie—he lets go of your wrists and throws you over his shoulder, delivering a harsh smack to your ass, his rough hand kneads the skin as he makes his way towards your bedroom.

“Better luck next time,” he throws you on the bed and you let out a gasp when your back hits the mattress. You try to sit up, but your husband grabs your ankles and pulls you down towards the end of the bed. “Now let’s see just how fucking filthy you are,”

He parts your legs with his big hands covering the plush skin of your thighs, and you whine out when he removes your shorts to reveal your panties that had an obvious wet patch on them.

“Fuuuck,” he breathes out and lifts up the mask enough for his mouth and nose to be visible. He presses his nose against your panties and takes a whiff of your arousal, the sight is obscene and your face turns red at how pussy drunk he sounds. “Fuck, fuck—should’ve done this sooner baby, you smell so fucking good,” he gives your pussy a kiss through the fabric of your panties before his fingers remove them so messily that you let out a startled noise.

Suguru dives in between your legs and the wet sounds are dirty and make you feel even more turned on. His tongue laps at your clit, fingers pulling the hood back before spitting on it and your eyes roll to the back of your head when he sucks. Two of his thick fingers prod at your entrance, gathering some of the slick that’s pooled there before pushing a single finger inside.

“Thaaaat’s it, good girl,” he breathes out against your clit before giving it a kiss as he pushes the second finger inside. “Yeah, this pussy loves being stuffed by me—fuck, you’re so wet for me. All because of this mask baby girl?” his tone is playful but you’re far too gone to complain and just mindlessly nod.

“So drunk off of me and I haven’t even given you my cock,” he pumps his fingers in and out of you all while curling them to find that one spot inside you. He licks, sucks and spits on your clit with so much passion and when he finds that one spot, you let him know pretty quickly.

“Oh!” you gasp and your thighs shake. “S-Suguru, oh fuck--!” his wrist is burning as he keeps pumping his fingers in and out of you, and the veins in his forearm are bulging out from the sheer strength he is using to finger fuck you until you see white. His free hand comes down and presses against your stomach to apply pressure and keep you pinned down.

You make the mistake of opening your eyes to stare at him. His hand is covered in your arousal, but what truly pushes you over the edge is the fact that his mask had come down and was covering his face entirely. So when he decides to talk you through it, give you that one final push—the ghostface mask seems to intensify the orgasm tenfold.

“I know you’re a good girl, but I’m gonna need you to get dirty for me baby—there it is, theeere it is,” he sounds proud when you finally cum, and you’re loud. You whine and let out soft cries, your hands weakly push at his arm when he keeps fingering you through your orgasm.

“Suguru—too much!” you cry out and gasp when he pulls his fingers out of your soaking pussy to slap your clit.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he quickly starts to unbuckle his belt and pushes his pants enough to free his cock. The tip nudges at your folds and your husband hovers over you with his lean stature. Big broad shoulders cover your entire frame and you’re fucked out from your previous orgasm.

“I’m going in baby, let me in,” your legs spread instinctively to welcome him inside of you and you groan when you feel the sheer size of him inside you. Your hands grip at the back of his shirt, but Suguru holds himself up on his forearms so that you look at his mask.

“Yeah, that’s right—look at me baby, filthy fucking girl,” his strokes were slow but hard. His hands grab at the back of your thighs and push them before fucking into you harder. “You like it, huh?” you couldn’t even give a proper response, only mindlessly nodding when you could feel him even deeper inside you.

He pushes your knees to your chest before setting a dizzying pace. You feel so full of him, so full of his thick cock and Suguru’s eyes roll to the back of his head behind his mask every time he felt your pussy squeeze around him. His finger rubs at your clit the same way that you’ve shown him you like it, and the tip of his cock repeatedly nudges against that one spot that has you falling apart underneath him with a loud cry.

Your orgasm hits you hard and Suguru can’t hold it in any longer—he fucks into you for another minute, head buried in your neck as he groans out your name. Your pussy milks him dry, and he fills you up to the brim—to the point where you could feel him leak out of you.

You lay there breathing heavily, and you weakly reach for the ghostface mask and remove it off of your husband to reveal his sweaty forehead and flushed cheeks. He looks gorgeous like that, and you lock eyes for the first time since the entire night and you’re immediately pulled in towards one another.

Suguru kisses you with so much passion, dick still buried deep inside you and your legs stay wrapped around him as you two make out heavily under your sheets that stuck to your sweaty bodies. You pull away for a moment to kiss his forehead and Suguru closes his eyes as he melts at your touch.

“Thank you for that,” you say, so love struck that the man can’t help but chuckle at how breathless you sound.

“Let’s do it again, yeah?”

2023: all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

—💭 if you like this, leave a tip!

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

pop that cherry

a/n: woop woop! here's the little slutty story that you guys voted for when i asked what you wanted to see happen next in this au ৎ୭

summary: “hey, I get it,” he flashed you a comforting smile, “I’m a complete stranger. You just shook my hand two seconds ago and now we’re expected to bang in front of a bunch of other people you also don’t know,” his broad thumb swept over your knuckles, “you just have to decide if you wanna pack up your things, go home and chalk this up to just a fun experience, a lesson learned about what corners your sexuality and such does and does not stretch to,” he uttered with sincerity, “or you can come back inside and we can make some magic happen. It’s up to you.” 

warnings: camgirl!reader x various, pornstar!ari levinson, roommate!bucky barnes, porn director!bruce banner, smut, porn au, college au, reader’s porn name is cherry blossom (UrLittleCherry), filming pornography, reader's first time doing professional porn, kissing, masturbation, toys, oral, fingering, voyeurism, exhibitionism, dirty talk, size kink (pornstar!ari is famous for his monster cock, you're welcome), belly bulge, manhandling, multiple orgasms, squirting, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, facial

word count: 3832

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

sugar & spice au masterlist | 101, intro to the au

masterlist | join my taglist 

Curled up and melted on your mattress, you absentmindedly scrolled through your phone. Your puffy pussy, hidden between your still trembling thighs, clenched in dull soreness from the fuck machine frozen by your feet and still glistening from the show you’d put on only moments earlier. 

“Hey, pretty girl,” a familiar voice emanated from your doorway, “I didn’t know you were done streaming.”

Lazily blinking up at Bucky as he leaned against the frame, “yeah, just signed off a few minutes ago,” you exhaled, “did you just get home?” the question flowed from your lips and he swiftly nodded in confirmation, “how was class?” 

“Oh my god, don’t get me started,” your roommate let out a groan and pushed himself off the wall, his stride swiftly carrying him the short distance to where you laid and plopped himself down beside you.

A soft smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you felt him press a slow peck to your exposed shoulder. 

“Do you need help lifting the toy back in the closet or–,” Bucky’s kind offer was then cut short by the shuttering gasp that suddenly crawled out of your lungs. 

“Oh my god,” your eyes grew to the size of saucers as you stared down at the message you’d opened on your phone, “oh my god!”

“What? What is it?” he propped himself up on a forearm to peek over your shoulder. 

“I–…” your eyes scanned the email wildly, “this can’t be real, right?” you cast a glance back at your friend. 

“Let me have a look,” and you swiftly handed him your phone before hearing him skim through it, “dear miss Cherry Blossom, bla, bla, bla… we here at Smash Studios really love your vibe and were wondering if you would ever consider doing professional pornography, because if so, then we would love to work with you,” his blue eyes flickered a moment longer over the screen before they fluttered up to meet yours, “no, I think it’s legit.”

“Holy shit…” you breathed, an airy giggle then bubbled out of you as this was quite the news to take in, even when one wasn’t still hazy from haven fucked one silly in front of hundreds of people. 

“You think you wanna do it?”

“Beautiful, gorgeous! And look right here, up there, yeah, that’s it…” 

Sharp clicks shuttered the camera and shot throughout the massive house as a photographer snapped the last of the stills for the shoot. You were posed perched and kneeling on a bed with your right hand buried in the already tiny crop top, you’d brought as one of the outfit options, and held up high to reveal your tits. 

The groan of floorboards creaking then found your ears and your gaze swiftly fluttered towards the door where the salt-and-pepper-haired man, who you’d come to learn was the head of the little porn studio, crossed over the threshold. 

“How are we doing in here?” Bruce adjusted his glasses before stepping further into the room. 

“I think we’re about done,” the photographer lowered the camera from his eye and cast a glance to his boss, “think we got the shot.”

“Great,” Bruce clapped his shoulder as the other man passed by and exited the room. As you tugged the short t-shirt back down into place, you met Bruce’s gaze before he asked you, “how are you doing? You ready?”

Though your mind was way too preoccupied to offer him an answer and instead blurted, “has he arrived?” as you scooted off the bed and felt the tiny shorts you wore ride up enough for your grasp to float down to adjust. 

“Not yet, I’m sorry,” he tilted his head, “trust me when I say that he isn’t usually this late. He wouldn’t have the stellar reputation he does if he was. But we can still begin without him and just fix it in post if you’re–”

Someone then poked their head and announced, “hey Banner? He’s here. I just spotted his bike roll up the driveway.”

Feeling your heart thump in your chest, you heard Bruce clap his palms together, “great!” before you followed him out of the bedroom and through the pristine halls of the rented modern mansion. 

Just before your bare feet began to conquer the long staircase, your absentminded grip tightened on the glass railing as you looked down at the open living room, clearly visible from the wide balcony, and spotted the figure that then sauntered in. 

“So sorry I’m late, traffic was literal hell.”

Ari Levinson. 

With sun-kissed brunette locks flowing from his head and a motorcycle helmet nuzzled under his burly arm, the infamous pornstar was not only blessed with a smile that could make anyone swoon, but also a dick so huge that any sane person would be downright terrified by the idea of having it split them apart. 

Though that wasn’t what had stopped you in your tracks, what had made your palms embarrassingly clammy when he soon shook one of them once you’d somehow made your way down the stairs. 

Why did your very first partner have to be someone you’d obsessively been getting off to for years? 

You were barely listening to what the people around you were saying as you couldn’t rip yourself out of the trance you’d snapped into. 

“I’m sorry, what?” you soon blinked, trying to avert your gaze. 

“I asked if you were ready,” Bruce patiently repeated. 

“…for?” you breathed, feeling as if you were inside of a giant ethereal cheese bell, making the entire world around you seem blurry. 

“For the shoot,” Bruce’s words still flew straight over your head, “I said that I was thinking that I’d do the filming myself, if that could make you more comfortable since you’ve already met me. That way it’ll just be me, the two of you and then Sam in the corner doing audio.”

“O-okay…” you said quietly, feeling your cheeks heat up as Ari let his gaze linger over you, an observant brow soon twitching as he spoke up. 

“Wait, actually,” he placed a palm on Bruce’s forearm, halting him as he reached for the bulky camera resting on the white couch, “do you mind if I grab a quick smoke break first?”

“Yeah, sure,” he nodded, “let’s just all take five before we begin.”

It caught you completely off guard when the object of your distraction walked by you and paused to murmur in your ear, “come with me outside for a second, will you?”

Shadowing him all the way out of the tall glass door and onto the terrace, you watched him lean his frame against the fence and tilt his body for you to slot in beside him. 

“I don’t actually smoke,” you uttered softly as you let your fingers ghost over the railing. 

“Oh, neither do I–, or well, that’s not completely true, I do, just didn’t need one right now.” 

“So then why did you ask for a smoke break?” you cocked a brow. 

Blowing out a swift breath, Ari then twisted to face you more and gazed directly down at you. 

“You mind if I hold your hand?” he held out his own palm.

“Oh, uhm,” your glance flickered down to his upturned hand before you carefully placed your own atop of it, “okay.”

His warm fingers swiftly engulfed your own as his stare stayed fast upon you.

“So, this is your first time, huh?”

“Oh, no, I'm not a virgin, I–” 

“I meant porn, sweetheart,” he tilted his head to be more at your level. 

“Right,” you averted your gaze as butterflies soared in your stomach, “yeah, I haven’t really done this before… I mean, I’ve some stuff, I’ve cammed for a pretty long time now and even recorded custom videos for some people, but no, I haven’t really taken this step before…” 

You were staring down at his large hand engulfing yours as he then said, “you know, it’s okay if you don’t wanna go through with it. This field isn’t for everyone, in fact, only very few thrive in this environment, and if it’s not for you, then it’s okay.”

“Oh, no,” your eyes flickered up to find his as you urged, “I wanna do this, I really do. I’m sorry, I guess I just kinda got a bit more nervous than I expected.” 

“Hey, I get it,” he flashed you a comforting smile, “I’m a complete stranger. You just shook my hand two seconds ago and now we’re expected to bang in front of a bunch of other people you also don’t know,” his broad thumb swept over your knuckles, “you just have to decide if you wanna pack up your things, go home and chalk this up to just a fun experience, a lesson learned about what corners your sexuality and such does and does not stretch to,” he uttered with sincerity, “or you can come back inside and we can make some magic happen. It’s up to you.” 

“So, Cherry,” Bruce purred behind the camera as he knelt on the floor beside where you sat at the foot of the bed, “I can’t believe we finally convinced you to come have some fun with us. I gotta tell you, you are just a fucking dream come true…”

“Oh, thank you,” you smiled, kicking your feet slightly as they dangled over the edge. 

“But you must get that all the time, I mean, look at you.”

“It has been known to happen on occasion,” you chuckled, thinking back to all of the lewd compliments the viewers of your streams generously tossed at you. 

“So, a little birdy told me that this is your very first time fucking on camera. Is that true?”

“Yeah, it is,” you bit down on your bottom lip, “I’m so ready to pop that cherry.”

“Oh, you are, are you?” he smirked, panning the bulky camera over your frame as you tilted your head in a nod, “you’re just ready to show the whole world what a perfect slut you are?”

“Think it’s about time,” you giggled in response. 

“Well, then why don’t you do something for me and stand up?” he shifted back a bit as you got up from the bed, “and now, I’ve already seen it, but can you please turn around and show everyone how fucking perfect your ass is?” a grin stayed fast on your face as you slowly spun around. Your butt was barely covered in the tiny shorts that clung around your hips, so when you twisted and let the camera catch that part of you, Bruce quietly groaned, “wow…” and he shifted his grip to let one of his hands float up towards you, “can I touch you?” 

“Sure,” you arched your back a bit to make his palm’s journey that much shorter. 

“Damn… this has got to be one of the greatest booties I’ve ever seen in my entire life,” he offered your softness a brief squeeze. His fingers first dented one cheek, then the next, before his grip caught your waistband and tugged your shorts up just a tad bit more, making the fabric momentarily rub against your covered pussy.

His flat palm then scooped around your hips and guided you back to face the camera.

“Do you wanna see my boobs?” you smiled as you blinked down at him with big doe eyes, your hands gently grazing over the hem of your crop top.

“Oh, yes, please,” he virtually begged as he let his warm palm stay glued to your waist. 

Peeking down, you slowly lifted the shirt up and let your tits quite literally spill out as they jiggled slightly from the release of how fiercely you let the cotton graze over your skin. 

“Jesus christ…” you heard him utter as your palms fluttered down to play with them, squeezing the soft peaks gently before Bruce’s fingers sneaked up to pinch one of your nipples.

Once you’d put on a show and pushed the tiny shorts down your legs, the crotch of which had been slightly soaked since you weren’t wearing any panties underneath, you rested back down on the bed and spread your legs wide for the camera, grinning as the older man asked you to play with yourself. 

“Oh my god… I gotta tell you, I am so hard right now,” you watched how intently he stared at the small monitor, getting a closeup of how your fingers rubbed your little clit, “you have no idea how tough it is not to just fuck you right now, it’s crazy…”

“Oh yeah?” you giggled, the melody of your want echoing throughout the room at every teasing touch you offered yourself, “how bad do you wanna fuck me?”

“So fucking bad…” he uttered in a nearly hypnotise tone. 

Continuing to circle your puffy pearl, your fingers briefly dipped down to tease your entrance, only shyly slipping inside before you swept back up. 

“You know what?” Bruce said as he then began to twist a bit to get the open door to the room into frame, “I have a little surprise for you,” and perfectly on queue, Ari appeared at the threshold, burly chest on show with just a pair of jeans hanging low on his hips. 

His stride was slow as he only stayed in the doorway a moment before sauntering over to where you sat, melted back and resting against the one forearm that propped you up. 

“Hey,” he smiled and plucked up your face as soon as it was within reach. 

“Hi,” you managed to utter just before he bent down and pressed his lips to yours in an unhurried and gentle kiss. 

He kissed you as if he had all the time in the world, like some dude wasn’t pressing a bulky camera closer to the intimate act, but like he was the lead in a PG romcom. 

When Ari withdrew, he let himself linger in your warmth, ever so slightly nuzzling his nose against your own as your fingers kept up the dizzying pattern you drew between your parted thighs. Tilting his head, his touch traced the length of your arm till his reach came down to aid your efforts, making you gasp from the way he caressed you. 

“You,” he nudged his nose gently against your own, “look like you’re in need of some cock in that little mouth of yours.”

Letting out a soft chuckle, you said, “you read my mind,” before popping the button of his jeans and tugging the zipper down. Even though you’d seen his famed cock numerous times on screen before, it truly was something else to witness it in person. A breathy, “holy shit,” left your lips as you tried to wrap your fingers around his girth, though he only let out a soft laugh at the way your eyes grew wide. 

Ceasing the caress he drew between your thighs, he instead grabbed the base of his heavy length with his fingers still glossy from your arousal. As you stuck out your flat tongue, he tapped the weight against you for a second before you tilted your chin and wrapped your lips around the bulbous head.  

As you disappeared into the meditative motion of slobbering all over his cock, gradually taking more and more of his intimidating length, your frame twisted to lay on your side and face him more. 

Blinking up into his hooded eyes as the corners of your lips burned from the severe stretch, you felt his hips begin to move, rolling to meet your every bob, till his fingers tangled in your hair and he got to take over completely, fucking your face till slobber dribbled down your chest and rained down on your crop top, still tugged up and framing your tits. 

His free hand then snaked its way back down your body and cracked your legs open wide for the camera to see as he plugged your pussy up with two of his fingers, making you moan around his girth as the tip of him bruised your throat. 

When he yanked your mouth off of his cock, he did so with a gravelly growl, like he could have lived in your silky warmth and it pained him to say goodbye so soon. 

“Come here,” he grabbed you and flipped you around for your frame to face him as his feet stayed planted on the side of the bed. Kicking his jeans the rest of the way off, you panted up at him as you scooted even closer, nearly letting your butt hang off the mattress’ edge as you laid already crumbled and folded before him, utterly bewitched by the anticipation of what his legendary size must feel like stretching your poor pussy out. 

Shimmery spiderwebs of your nectar clung to him as he then let you feel the weight of him tap against your puffy pearl, briefly skimming through your folds before he found your eyes and tipped down, nudging to catch your weeping entrance. 

“Oh my g-god…” you gasped, all of the air escaping your body to accommodate as he slowly pressed just the tip inside. Your cunt clung around his dick as he gave you a second to catch your breath. Your pulse throbbed in your pussy as your silky walls moulded around him and your thighs gently trembled from the intensity of it all. 

“Fuck,” he groaned as he gave you another inch, “you feel so good,” gently stuffing more of his length inside. 

His grip dented your trembling thighs as he held you open for the camera to see how you struggled to take his cock. Even when the tip of him kissed your cervix and made you feel as if he was all the way up in your fucking throat, when you hazily gazed down to see where he split you apart, there was still a generous inch of him that your little pussy just couldn’t take. 

As your eyes lingered a little longer, you too caught sight of how a dull bulge formed in the lower part of your belly, perfectly timed with each of his mind-numbing thrusts. 

When you then tumbled over the edge, nearly blind from the overwhelming pleasure, your pussy couldn’t help but accidentally gush around Ari’s girth, simply because of how mind-boggling he felt. 

“Oh, shit,” you panted. Still in your orgasmic daze, you swiftly cast a worried glance up at Bruce steady behind the camera, “I’m sorry,” you briefly broke the scene as Ari too paused his movements as you breathlessly spoke, “I really tried not to squirt, I know that wasn’t part of today’s plan, but–, fuck…” your eyes fluttered up to find Ari’s, “your dick’s just so goddamn big,” you hazily giggled. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Bruce’s voice washed over you as you watched a smile tug at Ari’s lips, “that was just an unplanned bonus.”

“Wait, so you’re not mad?” your neck twisted to cast a glance at the director. 

“No,” he swiftly shook his head and flashed you a reassuring smile to calm the obvious anxiety that had bubbled up inside of you. 

“Oh, good,” you let out a sigh, “sorry, I just got nervous for a second. Okay, alright, we can keep going.”

“You good?” Ari checked before he cracked out of his frozen form. 

“Yep, yep, I’m okay, I’m wonderful,” you chuckled and let the last bit of nerves wash away. 

“Alright,” he dipped down to press a soft kiss to your lips, before his hands guided your arms around his neck, slinking them around him. 

His grasp then scooped down under you and he effortlessly plucked you up off the bed, a shy yelp bubbling up from your lungs as he picked your frame up to cradle you in his arms, his massive cock still lodged inside of you, though when he settled you in his strong hold, it felt as if he found a mystical way to slide even deeper. 

Moans flowed from your lips and vibrated against his skin as your neck soon gave up and lent your cheek to smoosh against his fuzzy chest. 

“There you go,” he stood up tall and bounced you in his arms like you were a toy, just a cocksleeve for him to get off with, “there you fucking go…”

As he picked up the pace and truly gave you a taste of how a real pornstar pounded a pussy for the camera, your eyes screwed shut tight and you felt yourself float away on a cloud, curled up in Ari’s burly arms and surrounded in a storm of your collective moans. The existence of the video camera even faded from your reality as you peeled your eyes open and peeked up at Ari from the pillow of his pec, knowing full well that he too could feel how you began to clench around his cock once more. 

“You gonna cum again?” he repeatedly lifted you up and down on his fat girth, “you gonna be a good girl and cream all over my cock, huh?”

Blinking up at him, your brows crinkled in pleasure as you nodded, “uh-huh.”

“You think you can squirt again for me?” his grip dug into the plush of your ass hard enough for it to leave marks. 

“I-I don’t know–”

“Oh, I think you can,” he switched up his pattern, slowing down slightly and dragging you all the way up till his cock nearly slipped out of you, only to sink you back down in such a rough, yet intensely slow manner, that it made your eyes roll in your skull, “just listen to that,” he smirked at the soft sloshing sound that sinfully echoed as his fat girth repeatedly slid against your g-spot, virtually bullying it till you surrendered, “it’s like she’s begging me to just spend the rest of the day making her gush over and over again until you fucking pass out…”

A shrill cry escaped your form as you let go once more, shaking in Ari’s grasp as Bruce knelt down to capture your sinful drizzle.  

You nearly felt drunk, like you were hours into the best party of your life, when you eventually found yourself planted on the floor, quaking legs unsteady beneath you as you blinked up at Ari, looming above you and furiously fucking his fist. 

“You want me to cum all over that pretty little face?” he grunted as you hazily stuck out your tongue. 

“Yes,” the corners of your lips blissfully curled up into a grin, “please–”

Even though your bones had turned into jelly and your pussy clenched in soreness, the drawn-out moan that rumbled in Ari’s chest as hot ropes of his cum then shot out and painted your features sent tingles throughout your body and filled you with a desire to just wrestle him back down onto the mattress, hit rewind and do it all over again. 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[jinniejjam]

Breaking Down Walls

✎ CollegeBand!Bang Chan x nerdyAfab!Reader

✎ Nerdy College AU, Emotional, strangers to Lovers, 18+ MDNI! NSFW, Slight breeding Kink and bulge kink, creampie, cunilingus.

✎ 5,9k

✎ Synopsis: Bang Chan, the campus heartthrob, reluctantly seeks help from Y/N, a no-nonsense tutor who doesn’t trust boys like him. As late-night study sessions turn into something more, their differences blur, and unexpected feelings emerge, challenging both their walls.

A/n : hii guyss, another Chan X Nerdy again loll, i just love this trope so muchh! Enjoyy and please don't mind the typo or the grammatical error^^

— Bae

You stared at the email on your laptop screen, a sinking feeling pooling in your stomach.

Dear Y/n,

Professor Lee has recommended you for a special tutoring assignment. The student, Christopher Bang, has been struggling with his coursework and could use your expertise. We believe you are the right person for this. Thank you for your cooperation.

Best,

Academic Support Team

You groaned audibly and smacked your forehead against your desk. Christopher Bang. Everyone on campus called him “Bang Chan,” the lead singer of a campus-famous band. He was the kind of guy who was perpetually surrounded by a sea of admirers, always with an easy grin and a cocky confidence that screamed trouble.

You didn’t have time for trouble.

When Professor Lee mentioned this tutoring opportunity during class, you thought it’d be for someone serious. Someone who genuinely wanted help—not a guy who probably spent more time flirting than studying.

Still, you couldn’t exactly back out now. The professor had personally vouched for you. Besides, you needed the extra credit this gig offered. So, with a deep sigh and a firm resolution to keep things strictly professional, you emailed Chan back to arrange your first meeting.

"Tuesday, 4 PM. Library. Be on time."

It was Tuesday at 4:17 PM, and you were tapping your pen against the library table, glaring at the clock.

Of course, he’s late.

You had your laptop open, notes prepared, and a coffee you’d already drained. The quiet hum of the library did nothing to calm your irritation.

Just as you were about to send him a passive-aggressive follow-up email, you heard footsteps approaching.

“Hey! Sorry, sorry—I got caught up!”

You looked up to see him. Bang Chan, in the flesh. His dark hair was slightly messy, as if he’d just rolled out of bed, and his leather jacket was slung carelessly over his shoulder. He looked every bit the campus heartthrob you’d expected, complete with that infuriatingly charming smile.

“You’re late,” you said flatly, refusing to return his smile.

He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Guilty as charged. Traffic on the way here was brutal.”

“This is a walking campus,” you shot back, raising an eyebrow.

He grinned, unbothered by your sarcasm. “Touché.”

You sighed and motioned for him to sit down. “Let’s get started. I assume you know why you’re here.”

“Enlighten me.” He plopped down across from you, leaning back in the chair with an air of relaxed confidence.

You slid a piece of paper across the table. “Your midterm grades. Let’s just say they’re not exactly... stellar.”

Chan winced as he glanced at the sheet. “Yikes.”

“Yikes indeed,” you said dryly. “If you want to pass this course, you need to take this seriously. No distractions, no excuses.”

“Got it. Serious. No distractions.” He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand as he looked at you with those annoyingly pretty eyes. “But just to clarify—you’re not a distraction, right?”

Your jaw tightened, and you rolled your eyes. “We’re not here to play games, Bang.”

“Call me Chan,” he said with a wink.

You ignored him and opened your laptop. “Let’s start with last week’s lecture material.”

Despite your initial assumptions, Chan actually seemed... attentive. He took notes, asked questions, and even admitted when he didn’t understand something.

“Wait, so this formula—does it only work for linear functions, or can it apply to quadratic ones too?” he asked, frowning at his notebook.

You blinked. That was actually a decent question. “It’s primarily for linear functions, but there are variations you can use for quadratic ones. Want me to show you?”

“Please.”

As you explained, you couldn’t help but notice how focused he was. His pen tapped lightly against the notebook, and his brow furrowed in concentration. He even nodded along occasionally, muttering things like, “Okay, that makes sense now.”

It was... unexpected.

“So, do you actually want to pass this course, or are you just here because your professor made you?” you asked after a while, unable to hide your curiosity.

Chan looked up, surprised by the question. Then he smiled—this time, it wasn’t the cocky grin you’d seen earlier. It was softer, almost sheepish.

“I mean, yeah. I’ve got a lot on my plate, but I don’t want to fail. Music’s my thing, sure, but I don’t want to let my grades tank either.”

Something about his honesty caught you off guard. Maybe he wasn’t as shallow as you’d assumed.

“Well,” you said, clearing your throat, “if you keep this up, you might actually pass.”

He smirked, the cockiness returning. “Is that a compliment, tutor?”

“Don’t get used to it,” you muttered, trying—and failing—not to smile.

--

The next few sessions followed a similar pattern. You’d meet in the library, Chan would inevitably charm his way through your carefully constructed defenses, and you’d catch yourself noticing more than his academic progress.

It was frustrating.

“Okay, I think I’ve got this,” Chan said one evening, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied grin. “All thanks to my amazing tutor.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting the warmth rising to your cheeks. “Flattery doesn’t get you bonus points.”

“Good thing I’m not doing it for points.”

Your pen paused mid-sentence. His voice had dipped slightly, teasing, but there was something about the way he said it—soft and genuine—that made your chest tighten.

“Focus, Chan,” you muttered, flipping to the next page of notes.

“Right. Focus,” he echoed, but you caught the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

---

The tension reached a boiling point during one particularly late session. The library was practically deserted, save for the two of you tucked away in a quiet corner.

“Okay, last problem,” you said, sliding your notebook toward him. “Solve this, and we’re done for tonight.”

Chan groaned but picked up his pen. You leaned back, watching as his brows furrowed in concentration. He tapped the pen against his lips—a habit you’d noticed—and you quickly averted your gaze, pretending to check your phone.

“How’d I do?” he asked, sliding the notebook back to you.

You scanned his work, nodding slowly. “Not bad. You’re actually starting to get the hang of this.”

“Wow. Another compliment?” he teased, leaning closer. “You’re spoiling me, tutor.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “Don’t get used to it.”

But then, as you reached for your notebook, your fingers brushed against his. It was a brief, almost insignificant touch, but it sent a jolt through you.

You glanced up, and Chan was already looking at you, his eyes searching yours.

The air shifted.

For a moment, it felt like the rest of the world had fallen away, leaving just the two of you in that small, quiet corner of the library.

“You know,” he began softly, his voice barely above a whisper, “you’re a lot more fun to be around than you let on.”

Your heart thudded in your chest. “Chan—”

“Relax,” he said, leaning back with a playful grin. “I’m just messing with you. Unless... you don’t want me to stop.”

You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks betrayed you, burning with heat. “Goodnight, Chan.”

As you packed up your things and left, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something between you had shifted—something you weren’t quite ready to face yet.

---

The shift came unexpectedly a week later, during a particularly bad storm. You’d just finished your last class of the day when your phone buzzed.

Chan: “Library’s closed. Raincheck?”

You sighed, staring out the window at the torrential downpour. Normally, you’d jump at the chance to stay in, but something about the thought of Chan struggling with the material alone bothered you. Before you could overthink it, you replied:

You: “Come to my dorm. Bring your notes.”

Twenty minutes later, there was a knock at your door.

“Hey,” Chan said, slightly breathless. His hair was damp from the rain, droplets clinging to his leather jacket.

“You look like a wet puppy,” you teased, stepping aside to let him in.

“And you’re as welcoming as ever,” he shot back, but there was no malice in his tone—just the easy, teasing warmth you’d come to associate with him.

As the session went on, you noticed Chan seemed... off. He was quieter than usual, his usual playful demeanor replaced by something more subdued.

“You okay?” you asked finally, setting your notebook aside.

He hesitated, then sighed, running a hand through his damp hair. “It’s just... a lot. The band, school, everything. Sometimes it feels like no matter how hard I try, it’s never enough.”

Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice. For all his confidence, it was moments like these that reminded you he wasn’t as invincible as he seemed.

“You’re doing fine,” you said softly, surprising yourself with the sincerity in your tone. “You just need to give yourself some credit.”

Chan looked up, his eyes meeting yours. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the unspoken tension between you thickening.

“Thanks,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You don’t have to thank me,” you said, your voice softer than you intended. “You’re doing the work. I’m just here to guide you.”

Chan gave you a small smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Still... It’s nice to hear. Sometimes, it feels like everyone only sees what they want to see, you know?”

You nodded, understanding more than you cared to admit. “Yeah. People look at me and think, ‘nerdy girl who has her life together.’ But they don’t see the rest—the doubts, the late nights wondering if I’m good enough, or if I’ll ever be more than just... this.”

Chan tilted his head, his eyes scanning your face. “Why would you think that? You’re... incredible. Smart, focused, driven—”

“Boring,” you interrupted with a bitter laugh.

“No.” His tone was firm, and the intensity in his gaze made your breath catch. “You’re anything but boring.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, pressing against your chest.

You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Instead, you looked away, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of your notebook. “You don’t mean that. You’re just saying it because... well, that’s what guys like you do.”

“Guys like me?” Chan repeated, his voice laced with curiosity.

“You know.” You waved a hand vaguely. “The popular, charismatic type. Always knowing exactly what to say to get what you want.”

His expression softened, and he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “You’ve got me all wrong.”

You glanced at him, skepticism evident in your eyes. “Do I?”

“Yeah,” he said simply. “You think I have it all figured out, but most days, I’m just trying to keep my head above water. And if I seem like I know what to say, it’s only because I’ve spent my whole life trying to make people happy. It’s exhausting.”

His honesty caught you off guard, and for the first time, you saw him—really saw him—as more than just the confident, untouchable guy everyone adored.

“I didn’t know you felt that way,” you admitted quietly.

“Not many people do.” He smiled faintly. “But I feel like... I can be real with you. Like I don’t have to put on a show.”

Something shifted in your chest, a warmth spreading through you that you hadn’t expected.

“Same,” you murmured. “I don’t know why, but... you make me feel like I can let my guard down, too. It’s scary.”

“Why?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Because... I’ve spent so long convincing myself that people like you and me don’t mix.”

Chan reached out then, his hand covering yours. The gesture was gentle, tentative, as if he was giving you the chance to pull away. But you didn’t.

“Maybe we’re not so different,” he said softly. “And maybe that’s not such a bad thing.”

You looked at him, your breath hitching as his thumb brushed against the back of your hand.

“Chan—”

Before you could finish, he leaned in, his face inches from yours. His eyes searched yours, asking a silent question.

When you didn’t pull away, he closed the distance, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was hesitant at first—testing the waters—but quickly deepened as you responded.

Your hands moved almost instinctively, one tangling in his damp hair while the other rested against his chest. His heart was racing, beating in time with yours as the kiss grew hungrier.

Chan pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours. “Is this okay?” he whispered, his breath warm against your lips.

“Yes,” you murmured, your voice trembling with the intensity of the moment.

That was all the encouragement he needed. His lips found yours again, more urgent this time, and you felt yourself melting into him.

The books and papers scattered across the table were long forgotten as he pulled you closer, his hands resting on your waist, anchoring you to him.

The storm outside raged on, but inside, everything felt still—like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured against your lips, his voice raw with emotion.

Your heart swelled at his words, and you found yourself smiling despite the heat of the moment. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

Chan chuckled, the sound vibrating against your skin as he pressed kisses along your jawline, trailing down to the sensitive spot just below your ear, a shiver ran through you, and you tightened your grip on him, pulling him impossibly closer, for the first time, you let yourself stop overthinking. You stopped doubting his intentions, stopped worrying about what this meant. In that moment, it was just you and him, tangled together in a whirlwind of affection and desire, and it felt... right.

The intensity between you grew, as the room seemed to shrink, leaving just the two of you in your shared bubble. Chan's hands trailed gently along your waist, his touch firm but careful, like he was afraid you might dissapear if he pressed too hard.

"Wait," you murmured suddenly, pulling back slightly.

Chan froze immediately, his hands dropping to his sides, his breathing was ragged, his lips slightly swollen from the kiss. "What's wrong?" He asked softly, concern flickering in his eyes.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. "I just... i need to know this isn't just a game for you."

He blinked, clearly caught off guard by your question. "What? No. It's not a game. Why would you think that?"

You shrugged, avoiding his gaze. "Because guys like you—"

"Stop saying that," he interupted, his tone gentle but firm, he gently cupping your cheek, his thumb brushed lightly in your cheek "I'm not some stereotype, neither are you. I know i've got reputation but that's not who i am—not when im with you."

His words hung in the air, heavy with sincerity. Slowly, you looked up, meeting his gaze. There was no hint of the cocky playfulness that he usually do. Instead, his eyes were full of something deeper, Something real.

"I like you," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Not just for this. For everything. The way you so passionate about what you do, the way you don't take anyone's crap, the way you challenge me to better."

Your chest tightened at his confession, a warmth spreading through you that felt both terrifying and exhilarating.

"I like you, too," you admitted, the words tumbling out before you could stop them, seeing him in that vulnerable state make your heart weak.

Chan's lips curved into a soft smile. "Good. Then let me prove it to you."

Before you could even respond, he kissed you again—this time slower, more deliberate. It wasn't just about the heat or the tension, it was about connection, it was about trust.

As the kiss deepened, you found yourself letting go of every lingering doubt. Your hands moved to his shoulders, pulling him closer, and he responded by wraping his arms securely around your waist.

The storm outside seemed to mirror the intensity between you, thunder rumbling in the distance as the rain pounded against the window.

Chan's hands slip up your sides, his touch leaving a trail of heat in it's wake. His lips moved from yours to your neck, pressing soft, open mouthed kisses along your skin, sucking the skin under your colarbone untill it turn purple, marking you as his.

"Chan," you breathed, your voice barely audible above the sound of your own heartbeat. he reached for the hem of your sweater, his hands firm as he yanked it off with sudden force, sending it flying across the room. The fabric brushed your skin before it landed, discarded in the corner.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark with desire but still full of that same tenderness "Tell me if it's too much," he said, his voice husky but laced with care.

"It's not," you assured him, your fingers tangling in his hair. "Its perfect."

The words seems to spur him on, and he captured your lips again, his kisses grow hungry.

Before you knew it, you were pressed against the edge of the desk, the paper and books scattered around the desk now laying on the floor. He trail kisses from your neck down to your clothed breasts, his fingers brushing against the plush skin, squeezing your tits with his big hands.

Your breath hitched at the contact, and he paused, his gaze meeting yours. "Is this okay?" He asked again, his voice steady despite the beat between you.

"Yes," you whispered, your cheek flushing.

He continue to assault your tits, yanking the bra off to suck on your right nipple, making you let out a loud moan from the feeling of his warm tongue swirling around your perked nipple, he let go of your right nipple to lick and play with your other nipple, giving it the same service, making you squeze his shoulder from the sensation.

His hand trail your curve and gripping your waist, he let go of your nipple with a pop, he smilled—a soft, almost shy smile that made your heart flutter— he leaned in to kiss you again.

His hands were still on your waist, his grip firm as he guided you to stand, before you could react, he was lifting you effortlesly, the next thing you knew, you were perched on the edge of the desk the cool surface hitting the back of your thigh sending a shiver down your spine.

He stepped closer, his breath hot against your ear as his hands brushed the side of your body, pulling you in with a controlled intensity. His fingers traced the curve of your hips, lips still attached to yours— his tongue slipped in to your mouth—guiding you closer until you were flush against him, the proximity sending a wave of heat through you.

He pulled back slightly from the kiss, "Look at me," he murmured, his voice low and commanding but tinged with something softer, something you couldn't quite place. You met his gaze, your breath hitching as he leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. "Spread your leg for me baby."

Chan’s eyes flickered with something dark and unreadable as he waited, giving you a moment to decide. The tension in the air was almost unbearable, and the quiet hum of the room felt louder than anything.

You could feel the heat between you two growing, the closeness undeniable as his fingers lightly traced the inside of your thighs, his touch a contrast to the urgency in his eyes. Slowly, you shifted, obeying the unspoken command, spreading your legs just enough for him to move closer.

He leaned in, his breath fanning over your lips, but he didn’t kiss you right away. Instead, his hand found its way to your jaw, tilting your face up to meet his, searching your eyes for something—permission, reassurance, understanding. His thumb brushed over your lower lip, his gaze softening for a brief moment.

“You’re sure?” His voice was barely a whisper, the weight of his question settling between you, the intensity in his eyes matching the tension in your body. His hand was still on your thigh, but there was something so much deeper in his touch, as if he was waiting for you to guide him, to tell him you were ready.

You nodded, your voice caught in your throat. You didn’t need words anymore. The pull between you two was magnetic, and you knew that despite the hesitation in your chest, there was no turning back.

He smiled softly, his lips brushing against yours for a brief moment, the kiss slow, tender, before his lips parted from yours, trailing down to your neck. His breath was warm against your skin, sending shivers through you. As his hands slid further up your body, his movements were deliberate, almost teasing, drawing out the anticipation.

He move his hand to cupped your aching core, "So wet already, hm? So eager aren't we?" Your heart pounded louder now, the room seeming to close in around you. Every touch, every breath felt amplified as you finally let yourself sink into the moment, unable to resist the pull of everything that had been building between you.

He paused again, his gaze meeting yours, that soft, unspoken understanding passing between you two. And then, as if to confirm the depth of what was happening, he murmured, “I’ve wanted this... wanted you... for so long, you have no idea what you've done to me" he said with a hoarsh groan falling from his lips, while his hand still drawing small sircle around your bundle of nerve making you squirm and moaning mess for him.

"Mmh chan, please." You were not even sure what you were begging for, but you just need him to ruin you into a complete mess with his touch.

He chuckled, low and deep, a sound that sent shivers down your spine making the wet spot on your panties even more visible.

Chan didn't stop swirling your clit watching you squirming under his touch, chasing your pleasure like a cat in a heat.

"Sshh sshh, patient kitten, patient." He said, stopping his finger movement on you, leaving you whining in the lost of contact. But not too long after, Chan lowered his height, pushing your knees to spread your leg even wider for him, displaying your damp panties.

You moan to the sight, him kneeling between your leg, spreading you open like that was never on your bingo card. Chan look up to you, drawing a small sircle on your inner thigh, asking for your consent once again, you nodded eagerly, you already so wet it literally drenched. "Please, Chan" you whine, feeling so desperate for his touch.

He chuckled, seeing you so desperate like this is so cute but also turning him on, Chan hook his finger to move your drenched panties to the side, displaying your glistening pussy clenching around nothing. He mutter "Fuck—" from the sight, "You're leaking baby, holy shit" your pussy is so wet—drench even— he bet he could slide right in right then and there, but he didn't want to rush, he wants to take this moment slowly, savoring every inch of your body, worshiping it, he wants to make love to you.

He began to run his finger up and down your slit, teasing the clit with his thumb, brushing it slowly making squelching noise from how wet you were. "You hear that baby?" He said, looking up to watch your fucked out expression, lips swollen from how much you bite it to muffle your sound, eyes looking down at him, you look so pretty like this—he thought.

Seeing you enjoying his action, Bang Chan started to get bold, he lick a fat stripe along your fold making you let out the most pornographic sound that you don't even know you could. "Ahhh Chanh fuck" eyes rolling back to the back of your head, the feeling of his warm tongue on your pussy is top notch, you never feel this good before. He continue his action, licking your cunt skillfully leaving you breathy and a moaning mess, hand fall to his head, gripping his hair for the overwhelming pleasure, that sent a shiver down his spine, the sound that u made is enough to make him rock hard and trying so hard not to bust in his pants.

"Fuck baby, keep moaning my name like that mmhh you taste so sweet" he said while giving your clit a kitten lick, making you feel a knot bubbling in your lower belly, a strange feeling that you've never experience before.

Your moan getting louder in each flick of his tongue, Chan knew that you were so close, he try to elevate the pleasure, he insert 2 finger into your hole, making you scream and tug his hair harder, the painfull stings on his scalp sending a rush right in to his throbing cock making him moan onto your pussy, the humm create a buzz who made you clench on his digit, making the knot inside your belly tighten, you are so close.

"Chanh i–i nghh fuck" the words die in your throat, he chuckle, quicken his finger pace, pumping his finger into you faster, curling it in the right spot where you can see the star.

"Cum princess, let go, cum on my mouth like a good girl you are" he keep hitting that certain spot with an unbelievably quick pace, making you break and cum on his mouth, your orgasm washes over like a tsunami, leaving you breathless from the intense orgasm you just had.

Chan sit up from his position, licking his lips clean, your wetness spreading all over his chin, the sight is blissful making you blush so hard, heat rushing up to your cheeks seeing him covered in your cum.

His smirk grew wider as he leaned in, his fingers sliding down to your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. “You’re blushing, darling,” he teased, his voice low and smooth, dripping with mischief. “Did I make you shy, or was it the way you screamed my name?”

Your breath caught in your throat, his words sending a wave of heat rushing through your entire body. You tried to look away, but he caught you, gently pressing his forehead to yours. His scent enveloped you—warm, intoxicating, and entirely him.

“Don’t hide from me now,” he whispered, his nose brushing against yours. “I want to see every bit of you like this. All messy, all mine.”

His lips found the corner of your mouth, pressing a feather-light kiss that sent sparks racing through you. Then another kiss, softer, right below your jaw. Each touch was deliberate, leaving you breathless and clinging to his shoulders for balance.

“Chan,” you finally managed to whisper, your voice shaky but laced with yearning.

He hummed against your skin, pulling back just enough to lock eyes with you, "Say it again," he murmured, his thumb tracing your lower lip. His gaze was dark, filled with something unspoken yet undeniable.

Your lips parted, and before you could even utter another word, his mouth was on yours— hungry, claiming, leaving no room for hesitation. His hand reaching to the waistband of your panties, sliding it down to your ankle, leaving you bare for him, the cold air hitting your core sent a shiver all over your body, making you gasp from the contact. His hands sliding back to your waist, pulling you flush against him, grinding his rock hard cock on your bare pussy.

The contact drew a chorus of moans from both of you, the raw pleasure sparking between your bodies like fire. “You feel that, baby?” Chan groaned, his voice thick and ragged, hips grinding against you with deliberate force. “Fuck… look what you do to me.”

His lips parted, his breath shallow and uneven as he took in the sight of you beneath him, flushed and needy. It was enough to snap the last thread of his patience. Without wasting another second, his hands moved with purpose, fingers fumbling slightly as he unbuckled his belt. The sharp clink echoed in the heated air, sending a thrill down your spine.

His gaze never left you, dark and full of promise, as he freed himself, his cock springing to life in his hand. “I can’t wait any longer, can i baby?” he murmured, the desperation in his tone making your heart race but the way he still asking for your consent is making you melt, you nod eagerly, muttering a soft "Please," that makes Chan groaning in return.

Your breath hitched as his hand returned to your waist, steadying you as the tip of his cock brushed against your entrance. The sensation sent a jolt of electricity through you, and your fingers instinctively gripped his shoulders, holding on for dear life.

“Relax, baby,” Chan murmured, his voice softer now but no less commanding. “I’ve got you.”

Slowly, he pushed forward, the stretch making you gasp, your body adjusting to the delicious intrusion. His low groan vibrated against your skin as he buried himself inside you inch by inch, his head falling to the crook of your neck.

“You feel so perfect,” he whispered, his voice shaking with restraint. “So tight… so warm… just for me.”

Your nails dug into his back, your mind hazy with pleasure as he finally stilled, letting you catch your breath. He pressed a tender kiss to your shoulder, his hands stroking your sides soothingly, grounding you in the moment.

“Tell me how you feel,” he urged, his lips brushing against your ear.

You couldn’t find the words, overwhelmed by the fullness and the way your bodies seemed to meld together. Instead, you let out a shaky moan, tilting your hips slightly in response. That was all the encouragement he needed.

Chan began to move, pulling out almost completely before thrusting back in, slow and deep. The sensation was maddening, each roll of his hips perfectly measured to drive you wild. He set a pace that was both tender and commanding, as though he wanted to savor every second while still unraveling you completely.

“Look at me,” he said, his voice rough but filled with affection. You opened your eyes, meeting his intense gaze. The way he looked at you—with unbridled desire and something much deeper—made your heart skip a beat.

“You’re mine,” he murmured, punctuating his words with a deep thrust that left you gasping. "And i'm going to show you exactly what that means."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, the possessiveness in his tone making your core tighten around him. Chan groaned at the feeling, his control slipping as he snapped his hips harder, pulling a cry from your lips.

“That’s it,” he rasped, his hands gripping your hips as if anchoring himself. “You’re taking me so well, baby. So good for me.”

Each thrust seemed to claim you further, his movements growing more desperate as your moans filled the room. The sound of your bodies meeting was intoxicating, mixing with the broken gasps and groans that spilled freely from both of you.

“Chan, please,” you whimpered, your body trembling under his relentless rhythm.

“Please what, baby?” he teased, though his voice was strained, his forehead damp with sweat. He slowed his pace just enough to drive you insane, his cock dragging against your most sensitive spots with every deliberate stroke.

“Faster,” you pleaded, your nails digging into his arms. “Don’t stop.”

His smirk returned, though it was softer now, his lips brushing against yours in a fleeting kiss. “Anything for you,” he murmured.

With that, he adjusted his grip, pulling your legs higher around his waist as he slammed into you, deeper and harder than before. The angle was devastating, and you cried out, your body arching into him as pleasure coiled tight in your stomach.

“That’s my girl,” he groaned, his voice rough and full of pride. “I can feel you, baby. You’re so close, aren’t you?”

You nodded frantically, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. His lips brushed your ear as he whispered, “You’re gonna take everything I give you, aren’t you? Let me fill you up, baby. Let me make you mine in every way.”

The heat pooling in your stomach surged at his words, the thought pushing you even closer to the edge.

“Yes,” you whimpered, your voice trembling. “I’m yours. Always.”

“That’s right,” he growled, his pace quickening, each thrust hitting deeper. “Gonna fill you up so good. Gonna make sure you feel me for days.” he said, and his palm pressing to the buldge visible on your lower belly, where his cock going in and out.

The tension inside you snapped with his words, a wave of ecstasy crashing over you as your walls clenched around him. You cried out his name, your body trembling as pleasure overwhelmed you.

Chan cursed under his breath, his hips stuttering as your release pulled him over the edge. He buried himself deep with a guttural groan, his warmth spilling into you as he held you close, his grip on your hips unrelenting.

“Fuck,” he panted, his forehead pressing against yours as he caught his breath. “You’re perfect. You were made for me, baby.”

As the intensity of the moment passed, the room fell into a quieter, more peaceful rhythm. Chan pulled out slowly, carefully adjusting you so that you were no longer perched on the desk but supported against him, still breathing heavily. His hands gently cupped your face, his touch tender and reassuring.

“Hey, baby, are you okay?” His voice was soft, the previous urgency replaced by a genuine concern. His eyes searched yours, his gaze warm and comforting.

You nodded, still catching your breath, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I’m okay,” you whispered, your hands gently brushing his chest as you let your head rest against him.

Chan let out a breath of relief, his hand sliding down to your back as he pulled you closer to him, his warmth grounding you. He held you against him, his lips brushing your forehead in a soft kiss.

“You were amazing,” he murmured, his voice thick with affection. “I’ve got you, alright? Just breathe, take your time.”

His hands continued to move gently over your skin, tracing circles along your back and shoulders as if he were trying to erase any tension that might have lingered.

After a few moments, you met his gaze again, your heart still racing but feeling safe and cherished in his arms. “Thank you,” you said softly, your voice trembling just a little. “For being so gentle…”

He smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “Anything for you, baby."

Chan leaned in and kissed you again, slow and tender this time, his lips soft against yours. When he pulled back, he continued to hold you close, his hands never leaving your body.

“You’re perfect," he said, giving your lips a light peck.

The air was still heavy with the aftermath, but now it felt like a calming silence, the love and care in his words washing over you like a warm tide. You stayed close, letting the quiet moments stretch out between you, savoring the feeling of his presence.

[trashytracktales]

Ma'am, I just found your profile and I'm in love with your writing. I would really like to make a request that you made (After McLaren's victory today I was inspired haha)

Could you please write a short one for Lando where he and his girlfriend enjoy the WCC celebration party so much that they don't even have time for themselves (not that it's a big deal for them), but in the next morning the reader wakes up feeling Lando half hard on her back, while they're spooning, so she decides to wake him up with a handjob. So one thing leads to another and they end up having a slow, intense and delicious morning sex.

(if you don't feel comfortable writing, please just ignore. I will totally understand)

Orange glow | LN⁴

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── Thank you so much for your support! Enjoy this one 🤍

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𐙚 summary ──── After McLaren wins the 2024 Constructors' Championship and Lando dominates the Abu Dhabi GP, the night is full of partying. But the real celebration happens in the morning, hidden between the sheets, and far away from the outside world.

𐙚 pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/her reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── +18, mature/sexual content, fluff & smut, descriptive language, unprotected sex, swearing, established relationship, mentions of alcohol and drinking, post-race tension, spooning, slow morning sex, shower sex, hyping each other up, reader tries to be funny towards the end, quick Lily Zneimer cameo.

𐙚 word count ──── 3.5k

𐙚 date ──── Dec. 9, 2024

𐙚 a/n ──── I literally have a list of requests piling up, but I had to jump on this one immediately after last night, oop. I'm a Ferrari girlie through and through, and I'm not going to get into the details of how many times I cried this season, however, I'm so proud of the McLaren boys, and everything they've accomplished. A season to remember for sure. Now let the horrors (winter break) begin 🥲👍🏻

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THE WEEKEND STARTED with a lot of pressure, even though the odds were in their favor. And it continued that way on Sunday, after Oscar's Turn 1 incident. Luckily, Lando's teammate had managed to claw his way back into the points by the end of the race. Lando, on the other hand, had been untouchable ever since the lights went out, his car gliding through each lap with precision and speed as if he was running on hopes and old dreams.

His girlfriend watched it all unfold from the garage, her heart constantly in her throat as every sector time flashed on the screens. When the checkered flag finally dropped, she could finally breathe, knowing how much Lando has been stressing about it, especially after the weekend in Qatar.

By the time the podium ceremony begins, the entire paddock is buzzing; she's absolutely sure that no place on Earth is ever as loud as the paddock when someone wins.

Tonight, it's her boy.

In the sea of radiant faces, Lando manages to spot her without any issues and, for a brief moment, their eyes meet. He raises the bottle in her direction, grinning mischievously, before pop it on the podium step and shaking it up, drenching his team principal and the two Ferraris from head to toe.

She laughs, her chest warm with so much pride and love.

After that, it takes Lando a couple of hours before he finally makes it back to her. Post-race duties pull him in a hundred different directions — sometimes simultaneously — media interviews, debriefs, and lots of photo sessions. But when he sees her waiting outside the McLaren hospitality suite, he breaks away from the crowd without hesitation.

“What's a pretty girl like you doing here, hm? You should've waited inside,” says Lando, his voice low, but full of warmth as he wraps his arms around his girlfriend.

He smells faintly of champagne and sweat that mixed with his perfume and natural scent, a heady blend that reminds her of everything he’s just achieved for both himself and his team. The adrenaline it's still floating in the air, and she can feel the buzz of it in the way he's touching her.

“I did,” she replies, looking up at him. “But it took forever, and I got bored.”

It doesn't take long for camera flashes to capture the moment, and Lando takes off his cap to cover their faces, as he leans in to steal a gentle kiss from her before heading back inside.

THE MUSIC IS pretty much deafening, and the lights are a kaleidoscope of neon orange. The celebrations continue into the night, while Lando is — oh, so shockingly — the life of the party, moving from one group to the next with a constant drink in hand, his laughter ringing melodious above the bass.

She stays close but lets him have the spotlight. This is his night, after all, and she wants him to enjoy every single moment. Still, Lando always finds ways to include her by dragging her onto the dance floor for a song, or pulling her into photos with the team, and brushing kisses against her temple as they weave through the crowd.

It gets tiring at times, so she chooses to disappear for a couple of minutes back at their table; a good opportunity to regain control over her breathing, and maybe down another shot. This time, she finds herself watching Lando moving anything but gracefully on the dance floor. He looks like he's yelling, while aggressively gesturing in Oscar's direction, the two of them laughing over something she can’t hear. The sight makes her chest tighten with affection, though. They both seem so carefree right now, so unburdened, and she realizes how rare that is. The season has been the longest ever, and it was filled with so much pressure and expectations. But tonight, all of that has melted away.

“Having fun?” she hears a soft voice from behind her, then her senses are invaded by a faint floral scent.

She turns in her seat to see Lily, her cheeks flushed from the heat, with her smile as contagious as ever.

“More than I expected,” she finally replies, returning the smile and raising her glass to take another sip. “It’s hard not to when I see them like that,” she adds, pointing at their boyfriends.

Lily laughs, nodding slowly. “On the way here, I overheard that they want to get a tattoo in Zak's honor.”

“Oh, fuck no.”

The two girls exchange a look, their eyes locking in a silent agreement. It's their cue to step in, take control, and save their boyfriends from their drunken selves.

It’s past three in the morning when the party starts to wind down. Lando finds her near the bar, his hair a tousled, curly mess and his shirt unbuttoned. He looks exhausted but genuinely happy and satisfied, his eyes bright with the lingering adrenaline of the night.

“Ready to head back, mon amour?” he asks in a broken French accent, slipping an arm around her waist.

She nods, leaning into him. “Thought they'd never wear you out.”

“Pff. FYI, I've got plenty of energy left,” he says determined, smirking down at his girlfriend and watching as her thin fingers button up his shirt.

She giggles, knowing it's not even close to the truth, “Of course you do.”

The ride back to their hotel is quiet, proving her that she was right to not believe him earlier. Lando rests his head against her shoulder, his hand holding hers, fingers intertwined on top of her lap. She can feel the tiredness creeping in, but her heart is still skipping a beat every time Lando brushes his thumb over her knuckles.

When they finally step into their room, he lets out a long sigh, kicking off his shoes and collapsing onto the bed.

“Fuuucking hell. I can't feel my toes, is that fucking normal?” he mumbles into the pillow.

She chuckles, sitting down beside him to take her heels off. “You just turned a two-syllable word into four, so you tell me. I could barely keep up with you, baby. I'm not surprised you're absolutely wrecked,” she admits, lowering herself over his back to give him a small kiss on the cheek.

He sighs, flipping his body the other way, looking up at her with a tired but content smile. “Totally worth it, though.”

She places another kiss, to his jaw this time, her fingers gently caressing his cheek. “I'm so proud of you, pretty boy. I hope you know that.”

Lando's eyes soften, and he reaches up to take her hand in his, letting it rest over his chest. “Couldn't have done a lot of things without you... You kept me sane this season.”

She shakes her head, but he squeezes her hand, his expression earnest. “I didn’t—”

“Baby, I mean it,” he interrupts her vehemently, “Thank you.”

They don’t talk much after that, the exhaustion of the night catching up to them both. Finally, when they change and slip properly under the blanket, they fall asleep together, the hum of the city below fading into the background.

THE EARLY SUN spills into the room, casting long shadows over the tangle of sheets. She stirs first, her senses awakening to the quiet hum of Lando's soft snoring. Usually, she would push him on the other side so she won't hear him anymore, but she knows how tired he was just a few hours ago.

His arm is slung loosely around her waist, holding her close to him as if she might disappear. She shifts slightly, and that’s when she feels him — it — a familiar pressure nestled against her ass, half-hard and stirring with his own slow wakefulness.

A small smile tugs at her lips as she stays still for a moment.

The rest of Lando's body is relaxed against hers, but even in his sleep, he responds to her presence, which makes her heart race. Carefully, she reaches back, her hand slipping under the waistband of his boxers. The moment her fingers curl around his cock, Lando lets out a soft, muffled groan, instinctively pressing closer. At that, he wakes slowly, the low sound rumbling in his chest as he tightens his grip around her waist.

“Mm... ‘morning, baby,” he greets her with a thick, rough voice, filled with sleep. However, there’s a teasing edge to it as he pushes his hips more intently into her hand.

“Good morning, champ,” she murmurs in a playful tone, her hand continuing its lazy strokes, rubbing the sensitive head of his cock in circles with her thumb.

He hisses, pressing his lips against the nape of her neck, his warm breath sending a shiver down her spine. “You waking me up like this just because I won?” mumbles Lando, his lips curling into a soft smirk against her skin.

She lets out a quiet chuckle, but doesn’t reply, focusing instead on the way he hardens fully in her small fist, the weight of him in her hand so familiar and thrilling.

“Fuck, I lose it when you touch me like that,” says Lando, fully woken up by now. “Feels so good, baby.”

Hearing that, she perfects her strokes, feeling the pre-cum coating the palm of her hand, smiling mischievously when she manages to pull another moan out of his mouth.

“Do you have to be somewhere today?” she finally asks.

Lando sighs in pleasure, his hips eager to move in the same rhythm as her hand, “Not until after lunch. Why?”

He knows where she's hinting with her innocent question, but he enjoys hearing her talk.

She laughs lightly, feeling his cock begin to throb slightly in her grip. “I just wanted to celebrate some more.”

Lando's hand slides down her body, instinctively, warm and purposeful, as he grips her thigh and drapes her leg over his hip.

“Alright then,” he whispers, his voice low and filled with a lazy, husky need.

Before she can speak again, he shifts behind her, freeing his throbbing cock and lining himself up, pressing into her in one slow, languid motion, thankful he has such easy access to her so early in the morning. Her breath catches in her throat, her hand clutching at the sheets as he fills her completely, the heat of him spreading through her like fire.

“Lando,” she breathes in sharply, her voice tinged with need, her ass pushing back against him.

Lando's arm tightens around her waist, pulling her even closer as he starts to move. His pace is slow, deliberate, each thrust a deep, measured push that sends shivers down her spine. The angle is perfect, his hips pressing against her as he drives into her from behind, her leg draped over his to open her up to him completely.

“Oh, god,” she moans, bringing her free hand to the back of Lando's head, lightly tugging at his hair.

“You always feel so good in the morning, baby—fuck,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against her shoulder as he moves. His free hand slides up her body, cupping her breast under the fabric of his shirt she's wearing, and teasing her nipple between his fingers. “So warm and ready for me, I could slip inside even in my sleep, hm?”

As a response, her head falls back against his chest, her hand continuing to thread through his hair as Lando buries his face in her neck. Each thrust is so agonizingly slow, almost testing her patience, but every single one is filled with a quiet intensity that steals the breath from her lungs. His hands are suddenly everywhere — cupping her breasts, brushing over her stomach, gripping her hips as he pulls her back against him with undeniable strength.

“Shit,” he murmurs against her skin, his voice low and reverent, “You make me so fucking hard,” Lando adds breathlessly. “So perfect around my cock every. Single. Time,” he accentuates the words with each thrust.

His sleepy voice sends a fresh wave of heat through her, her body trembling as she grips the sheets tighter, trying to hold on to the feeling of him fucking her like that. Too soon, their movements grow less coordinated as they both near the edge, their breaths coming faster, blending together in the quiet room.

“Lan…” she gasps, her voice breaking as his hand slides lower, his fingers finding her clit.

“Come on my cock, baby. I’ve got you,” he whispers, his voice rough with need as his fingers work in time with his slow, deep thrusts. “Let go for me.”

“Oh, fuck,” she cries out, her thighs wanting to press together in pleasure, but Lando's other hand holds her open for him, the slick sound of him pushing in and out of her pussy, an exquisite melody for his ears.

Soon enough, her body tenses, her moans turning into soft whimpers as she comes, her release washing over her in waves that leave her legs shaking. Lando follows moments later, his thrusts growing erratic before he stills inside her, his body shuddering as he presses himself as deep as he can.

They take a long moment to breathe, their bodies joined together. His hand brushes soothing circles over her stomach, his lips pressing lazy kisses to her shoulder and neck, before pulling the shirt over her head so he can feel her in his arms without any obstacles.

“You’re dangerous as hell when you wake me up like this,” he finally speaks, his voice raw.

She laughs, her body still humming with the aftershocks. “Are you complaining?”

“Not even a little,” he admits, pulling her closer and nuzzling into her neck, inhaling her scent.

They stay just like that for a while, making her wonder if Lando fell back asleep, but then he presses one more kiss to her shoulder, his lips lingering there as he shifts, pulling gently out of her. The instant emptiness draws a soft gasp from her, and they both feel the warmth of their shared release slipping between them, dampening the sheets beneath.

He lets out a quiet chuckle, his hand trailing down her thigh before slipping back between her legs. Slowly, his fingers press into her fucked out pussy, gathering as much cum as he can so he can push it back inside.

“God, you're so dirty, baby,” he murmurs against her ear, his voice a mix of affection and playful reprimand. “You should probably take a shower, I'm just saying.”

Her heart starts racing again at the sweet sensation of his fingers, but she doesn’t let him have the last word. She finally turns around in his arms, wanting to see his pretty face bathed in the orange glow of the morning. Her lips find his in a superficial kiss, as one of her hands wraps around his body, pressing firmly against the small of his back and pulling him closer. As their bodies press together, his cock rests between their stomachs, still half-hard and slick with the remnants of their orgasms.

She breaks the kiss just long enough to smirk up at him, her voice teasing as she murmurs, “Yeah? Look who’s talking.”

Lando groans, his head falling back against the pillow as he laughs softly. “Touché,” he whispers, his hands gripping her waist.

Before she can say anything else, he flips them over, pulling her on top of him with an effortless motion. She straddles his hips, her thighs pressing into his, her pussy pressing down on his length. They both exhale at the wet feeling between their bodies, but none of them dares to make another sudden move.

“I wanted to take you in the middle of the dance floor last night,” admits Lando, his hands sliding up to cup her hips, his fingers brushing the sensitive skin there.

“Why didn't you?” she counters, her voice playful as she leans down to kiss him again.

“You would've let me, wouldn't you? Fuck you where everyone can see how pretty you look with my cock inside you?”

She presses one more kiss to his lips, mostly to shut him up, “I'd let you fuck me anywhere you want, my love.”

Lando's fingers tighten around her waist, making her whimper against his jaw, “So fucking easy for me, baby. You're gonna end me one of these days.”

“Not today, though,” she exhales abruptly, fucking her hips onto Lando's length, with no intention other than teasing him.

“Behave,” he says softly, cupping the back of her head in his palm so he can pull her back into a sinful kiss.

They linger there for a while, the morning hues catching in the strands of his messy hair and the faint sheen of sweat on their skin. It’s warm, so intimate, and entirely theirs — a connection that no one can take away nor break.

Eventually, Lando lets out a mock-serious sigh, his hands sliding up her back, stopping roughly at her thighs to squeeze her. “Alright, gorgeous. Shower time. Before we ruin these sheets completely.”

She laughs, climbing off him and wincing slightly at the sticky mess between her thighs. He catches the movement and smirks, playfully slapping her ass as he sits up.

“Come on,” says Lando, taking her hand and pulling her towards the bathroom.

The shower is already steaming up when they step inside, the hot water cascading over their bodies. Lando's fingers are lazily tracing patterns on her back, hers tangling in his wet hair as they share languid kisses under the spray.

“Do you even know what you mean to me?” he whispers, his voice low and filled with adoration. His hands trail up her back, fingers tracing her curves, memorizing every inch of her, all over again. “What you do for me? God, I don't need anything else.”

Her cheeks warm, though whether from his words or the water, she isn’t sure. She tilts her head up, her smile soft and full of affection for him. “Lando, I’m just here for you. You’re the one out there doing the impossible every single day. My champion.”

He lets out a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he presses his forehead against hers. “You're so sweet, love. But you know I'm not a champion yet, my team is.”

Her hands slide up his chest, fingers resting over his heart as she gazes at him, her voice steady and determined. “You are McLaren, Lan. You and Oscar, hold everything together. It's a great responsibility, and I've seen what it did to you this year. The good, the bad, and everything in between.”

For a moment, Lando goes silent, his eyes softening as he takes her in. The quiet between them is filled with the sound of the water, and everything he wants to say to her but can't. It'd be too soon, and he has a habit of letting his mouth loose when his emotions get the best of him.

She notices that, and she knows he's working on it, that's why she won't let the moment grow too serious, “Though, to be fair, Oscar has done you and McLaren a lot of favors this season, no?”

Lando’s startled laugh echoes off the tiled walls, and he pulls back to look at her, his grin wide and mischievous. “Oh, yeah? Is that what we’re doing now?”

Before she can respond, he presses her back against the cool tiles, his hands gripping her thighs as he lifts her slightly, her back arching under the contrast of the chilled surface and the hot water.

“Lando!” she gasps in surprise.

“You take that back,” he growls playfully, his lips capturing hers in a possessive kiss that knocks all the air out of her lungs.

Her laughter dissolves into a moan as he pushes into her again, slow and deep, filling her completely. Her legs wrap around his waist, anchoring herself against him as he pulls out all the way, only to slam back inside, setting a rhythm that’s somehow both lazy and desperate.

The shower fills with the sound of water splashing and the soft, breathless moans that escape her lips, her head falling back against the tiles as he buries his face in her neck. His hands grip her thighs harder, holding her steady as he thrusts deeper, each motion pulling gasps and cries from both of them.

“You saying Oscar’s better than me?” he teases, his voice strained but filled with humor.

“Maybe,” she jokes, breathing out sharply, her nails raking down his back as she arches into him. “But you’re doing a stellar job convincing me otherwise.”

Lando's laugh is low and breathless, turning into a groan as he quickens his pace.

For a lot of people, winning means lifting a trophy above their heads, but for him, it's the rhythm of their bodies moving together — a louder kind of triumph that manifests into delicious moans and whimpers.

It's the kind of podium he will never get tired of stepping on.

Thank you for reading!

None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

© trashy track tales, 2024

[lizziesangel]

just thinking about rafe supporting his girlfriend to study early for exams (or atleast he tries to)

the first rays of dawn were just beginning to creep through the blinds, but you were already awake. the room was quiet, the faint sound of crickets outside the window the only noise cutting through the heavy stillness of the early morning. rafe’s arm was slung over your waist, his warm breath brushing against the back of your neck as he slept peacefully beside you.

it was 4:30 a.m., and while the rest of the world — including your boyfriend — was still lost in dreams, you were wide awake. the slight glow from your phone screen confirmed the time as your alarm buzzed softly, barely audible enough to disturb the comfortable silence. you slipped out from under rafe’s arm with practiced ease, careful not to wake him.

the cool air greeted you as your feet hit the wooden floor, and you shivered slightly, grabbing your hoodie from the back of the chair. you padded quietly to the bathroom, the door creaking just slightly as you pushed it closed. turning on the shower, you let the warm water pull you fully into wakefulness. this was your routine — an early morning start to clear your mind, grab some caffeine, and hit the books before the world intruded.

about 20 minutes later, you were freshly showered, hair damp and tied back, standing in the kitchen and cracking open a red bull. the fizz of the can sounded loud in the quiet house, and you winced slightly, glancing toward the hallway. you grabbed your laptop and notebook, ready to settle into your study corner. but just as you were about to take a seat, a low, groggy voice interrupted you.

“why are you up right now?”

you turned to see rafe standing in the doorway, his hair a mess of blonde waves and his eyes barely open as he squinted at you. he looked like he’d been pulled straight out of his dreams, his t-shirt hanging loose over his shoulders, and pajama pants sitting low on his hips.

“i have an exam, rafe,” you said softly, taking a sip from the winter edition red bull. “gotta get some studying done.”

he crossed the room and leaned over your chair, reading over your shoulder. “this can’t wait until, like, a normal hour?”

“nope,” you replied, popping the ‘p’. “i’ve got an important exam in two days, and i’m way behind.”

“it’s four-something in the morning,” he muttered, rubbing his face with one hand and shuffling toward you. “come back to bed.”

you smiled at his disheveled appearance and the slight whine in his voice. “i can’t, rafe. i need to go over my notes. you go back to bed.”

he ignored you, plopping down on the couch beside your makeshift study setup. “nope. not leaving you to do this alone.” he yawned, throwing an arm around your shoulders lazily. “besides, you’re not supposed to start your day until the sun’s up. it's...like a law or something.”

“rafe—”

“shh,” he interrupted, grabbing your red bull and taking a sip before grimacing. “ew, that’s disgusting.”

“you’re ridiculous,” you said, laughing softly as he leaned his head against your shoulder.

“yeah, well, you love me,” he said with a lazy smirk, his eyes drifting shut again. “now keep studying. i’m just gonna...keep you company.”

he was snoring softly within minutes, his weight a comforting presence against your side. you smiled to yourself, shaking your head as you returned to your notes. even at four-something, rafe had a way of making you feel like you weren’t alone.

MASTERLIST

[theetherealbloom]

The Things I Would Do, Just To Be Here With You

Summary: Amidst the whirlwind of movie premieres and busy schedules, you and Pedro Pascal, both thriving in your respective careers, find ways to celebrate each other despite the distance. While Pedro promotes Gladiator 2 in London, he longs for your presence at the after-party.

Or, you two would scream at the stars for keeping you apart... and the government too.

“Pedro Pascal x f!reader, Pedro is promoting Gladiator 2, and reader is in Wicked (Elphaba or Galinda of course!) for the screenplay of Wicked, and they are just really supportive of each other but also joke about their own movie being the best. Finding time to come to each other’s premiers. Posting behind the scenes or visiting each other.” — From @imaginemixedfandom

Paring: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader

Warnings: Established Relationship, TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF, Slight Angst, Swearing, Anxiety, Surrounded by A-Listers, Cheesy Dialogue, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Red Carpet, Cameras, Paparazzi, Long Distance, Timezone Difference, Social Media, Interviews, I’m not a Spanish speaker, I might be wrong with the terms, please don’t come after me T^T,

Word Count: 4.4k

A/N: Ty @imaginemixedfandom for giving the idea! I didn’t really want to replace the reader with the cast of Ariana Grande and Cynthia Erivo. Those two are just too iconic. So instead I will make the reader a writer for the screenplay adaptation of Wicked tehe. You all should listen to brent iii by Jeremy Zucker and Chelsea Cutler, it’s absolutely one of my favorite albums of this year. Lastly, remember this is all fictional and for fun! Enjoyyyy my loves!

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: and the government too! By Jeremy Zucker & Chelsea Cutler

gif by @andrew-garfielld

| Main Masterlist |

NEW YORK, NEW YORK — EVENING

“Hi.” Your voice was soft as you nestled deeper into the duvet, your body cocooned in its comforting folds.

“Hola, mi amor.” Pedro’s face lit up on your phone screen, the warm timbre of his voice washing over you like a balm. “I miss you.” “I miss you too… so much,” you replied with a little pout. The time difference between London and New York was merciless. Between his packed schedule promoting Gladiator 2 and prepping for Fantastic Four, and your whirlwind of work with the Wicked movie premiere, your conversations had been reduced to stolen moments like this. Still, even through a screen, Pedro had a way of making you feel like the most important person in the world. “You look cozy,” he said with a lopsided grin, his brown eyes crinkling at the corners. “Meanwhile, I’m freezing my ass off here on set. I think my nose might fall off.” You laughed softly, the sound tinged with longing. “I’d trade you, you know. I’ll take the cold if it means I get to see you.”

“Don’t tempt me.” He leaned closer to the camera, his face filling your screen. “If I weren’t contractually obligated to be here, I’d hop on the next flight and show up at your premiere tomorrow. Red carpet and all.” You smiled wistfully, your fingers brushing against the edge of your phone as if you could reach through it to touch him. “You’d outshine me. Imagine the headlines: ‘Pedro Pascal steals the show at Wicked premiere.’” “Please. Everyone’s going to be talking about you. ‘Brilliant screenwriter dazzles Hollywood!’” He paused, his tone softening. “You’re incredible, you know that?” Your throat tightened at his words, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “Stop, or I’ll actually cry, and my face will be all puffy for tomorrow.” He chuckled. “Okay, okay. But seriously, mi amor, I’m so proud of you. You’ve worked so hard for this.” “And so have you,” you countered. “The Gladiator 2 trailer broke the internet, and you still found time to send me flowers last week. You’re amazing, Pedro.” “Yeah, but flowers aren’t the same as being there with you.” His voice dipped, a hint of regret slipping through. “I hate being this far away.” You sighed, your heart aching in tandem with his. “Me too.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence filled with the unspoken tension of your shared longing. Then, Pedro’s grin returned, bright and mischievous. “So,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “who do you think has the better movie? Be honest.”

You raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. “Are you seriously asking me to compare Wicked to Gladiator 2? One’s a heartfelt, magical adaptation, and the other is a testosterone-filled epic. They’re different.”

“Uh-huh,” he teased, crossing his arms. “Sounds like you’re dodging the question. I knew you were scared to admit Gladiator 2 is better.”

You scoffed, sitting up straighter in bed. “Scared? Please. I just don’t want to hurt your feelings when Wicked inevitably becomes a global phenomenon.”

Pedro laughed, the sound rich and contagious. “You’re lucky I love you. Otherwise, this would be grounds for war.”

“Lucky? You’re the lucky one,” you shot back, smirking. “I’ll prove it when I finally see you in person again. But until then…”

You brought the phone closer, pressing a soft kiss to the screen. Pedro mimicked your gesture, his lips brushing his camera lens.

“Goodnight, mi vida,” he murmured.

“Goodnight, Pedro.” Your voice was tender, laced with all the love you couldn’t put into words.

As the call ended, you clutched the phone to your chest, a bittersweet smile tugging at your lips. Despite the distance, despite the chaos of your lives, you knew one thing for certain: Pedro Pascal would always be worth the wait.

NEW YORK, NEW YORK — MORNING

Today was the day. You were walking the red carpet for the Wicked movie premiere. A sea of celebrities, producers, fellow writers, and editors would surround you. The sheer magnitude of it all left you feeling both giddy and utterly petrified.  

You smoothed your hands over the silk robe you wore, your palms damp with nerves. While you loved the craft of storytelling, the spotlight had always felt daunting. You preferred to let your work speak for itself—a tendency that paired surprisingly well with dating Pedro Pascal, the literal human embodiment of charisma and charm.  

“There, all done,” Laura, your makeup artist, said with a satisfied grin.  

You blinked at your reflection in the mirror. Your skin glowed, your eyes were accentuated just enough to look striking without overwhelming, and your lips were painted a perfect shade of confidence.  

“You’ve outdone yourself,” you said, giving her a warm smile.  

“Of course I did,” Laura replied with a wink. “Big night for my favorite screenwriter.”  

Mia, your stylist, emerged from behind a rack of gowns, holding up the dress. “Speaking of big nights... Ready to put this beauty on?”  

You nodded, though your smile wavered. “I just wish Pedro were here,” you admitted, your voice quieter now.  

Laura and Mia exchanged sympathetic glances before Laura gently squeezed your shoulder. “You’re going to look incredible, and he’d lose his mind if he saw you. How about we take some pictures to send him? A little preview for the man himself.”  

You hesitated, glancing at your phone on the vanity. “I don’t want to distract him. He’s busy with interviews and set work. London and New York aren’t exactly next door…”  

“All is fair in love and war,” Laura teased, her giggle breaking the tension. “Come on, babe! If anything, it’ll be motivation for him to hop on the next flight.”  

Mia chimed in, smirking. “Or just to remind him what he’s missing. Trust me, teasing Pedro is a public service.”  

You laughed despite yourself, feeling the nerves lift slightly. “Fine, fine. But if he complains, I’m blaming you two.”  

They ushered you into the dress—a masterpiece of emerald silk and intricate detailing that clung perfectly in all the right places. As Mia zipped you up, Laura stepped back, her hands pressed dramatically over her heart.  

“Pedro’s going to lose his shit.”  

“You look like a literal goddess,” Mia added, spinning you toward the mirror.  

For a moment, you hardly recognized yourself. The reflection staring back radiated elegance and confidence, even if you didn’t entirely feel it yet.  

“Okay, okay. Take the pictures,” you relented, biting your lip as you tried to contain your grin.  

Laura grabbed your phone and started snapping. You struck a few playful poses, twirling and laughing as Mia adjusted the hem of your dress. It felt silly, but imagining Pedro’s reaction warmed your chest.  

Once the photos were taken, you grabbed your phone and hovered over the message screen. You debated for a moment, then attached the best photo and typed a quick message.  

You: Wish you were here. But since you’re not... Enjoy this. Don’t let it distract you too much, cariño.  

You hit send before you could second-guess yourself, the familiar swoosh of the message sending making your heart race.  

The reply came faster than you expected.  

Pedro: Distract me? How am I supposed to do anything now? You look like an angel. No, better than an angel. Drop-dead stunning. 

You couldn’t stop the grin from taking over your face.  

Pedro: Red carpet better be ready. They’ve got no idea who they’re dealing with tonight.  

The butterflies in your stomach multiplied tenfold. Before you could reply, another message appeared.  

Pedro: I’m so proud of you. Go knock ’em dead, mi amor. I love you.  

Your throat tightened, and you had to blink back the sudden tears threatening to ruin Laura’s hard work. You tapped out a quick reply.  

You: I love you too. Now go back to being the coolest man alive.  

“You okay over there?” Mia asked, watching you with a knowing smile.  

“More than okay,” you said softly, tucking your phone away.  

As you prepared to step into the whirlwind of the premiere, Pedro’s words echoed in your mind. Even from thousands of miles away, he made you feel invincible.  

Tonight wasn’t just about the red carpet or the glitz and glamour. It was about celebrating what you loved—and knowing Pedro would always be your biggest cheerleader, no matter where in the world he was.  

UNITED KINGDOM, LONDON — AFTERNOON  

Pedro sighed deeply, his head resting against the back of his chair. The steady hum of activity on set felt like background noise, the voices and clatter muffled by the ache in his chest. His fingers drummed lightly against his thigh, the motion absent-minded, a physical echo of the restlessness he felt inside.  

He missed you.  

It wasn’t the casual longing of someone who hadn’t seen their partner in a while—it was the kind of yearning that settled into his bones, heavy and persistent. A few hundred miles of ocean separated you, but it may as well have been an entire galaxy.  

He opened his phone and scrolled back to the picture you’d sent him that morning. The emerald dress, the way it hugged your form, the way your eyes sparkled even in a still image—it took his breath away. You looked like a dream. His dream.  

“If I were there right now…” he murmured under his breath, running his thumb over the screen as if he could touch you.  

If it were as simple as hopping on a flight, he’d already be on his way. He imagined the way you’d light up when you saw him, how you’d rush into his arms. He’d bury his face in your hair, inhale your scent, and hold you so tightly that he’d forget about the world outside.  

But it wasn’t that simple. The timing was off, as it so often was with both your careers in full swing. He was tied to the production schedule of Fantastic Four, and you were in the spotlight for Wicked. The universe seemed determined to keep you apart, and for the first time in years, Pedro felt the cracks in his patience.  

He closed his eyes, resting his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward. “Damn stars. Damn schedules. Damn… government,” he muttered bitterly. The laugh that followed was humorless, the frustration thick in his voice.  

If he could, he’d scream at the stars for conspiring against you both. Curse the invisible forces that made life so complicated. He’d barter with time itself, twist it and stretch it, just to have you here with him for a few stolen moments.  

He wondered what you were doing right now. Were you nervous about the red carpet? Did you feel as hollow without him as he felt without you? Pedro clenched his jaw, guilt gnawing at him. You deserved to have him there, to walk that carpet with you, to hold your hand and beam with pride as you took in the applause for your work.  

“Pedro, they’re ready for you!”  

The call from a production assistant jolted him from his thoughts. He blinked, the weight of reality crashing back down as he stood and stretched.  

“Be right there,” he called back, tucking his phone into his pocket.  

As he made his way back to the soundstage, he couldn’t shake the thought of tomorrow. The Gladiator 2 premiere loomed ahead, another milestone he should be celebrating with you by his side. Instead, you’d be halfway across the world.  

But one day, he promised himself, one day, nothing will keep us apart.  

NEW YORK, NEW YORK — EVENING 

The flashing lights were relentless, casting an almost blinding glow over the red carpet. The screams of fans and the constant click of cameras created a symphony of chaos, one you weren’t entirely comfortable navigating. You’d always preferred the quiet—curled up with a book, tucked away from the world’s prying eyes.  

But tonight, you smiled and posed alongside your cast and the production crew. You owed it to them, to yourself, and to the story you’d helped bring to life.  

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Winnie Holzman, the original writer of Wicked, leaned in with a smile, her eyes sparkling as she looked at the crowd.  

You nodded, though your voice was tinged with nervousness. “It’s incredible. Overwhelming, but in the best way.”  

“You’ve done amazing work,” Dana Fox chimed in, her excitement infectious. “We wouldn’t be standing here without your screenplay tying it all together.”  

Jon M. Chu, ever the cheerleader, clapped you lightly on the back. “Tonight’s your night too. Own it.”  

You laughed softly, feeling a little more at ease with their encouragement. Together, the four of you posed for the cameras, sharing a few candid laughs before heading closer to the press area.  

As you stepped into the spotlight for interviews, the questions started flying.  

“How does it feel to see Wicked finally come to life on the big screen?”  

“It feels surreal,” you answered, your smile genuine. “Everyone on this project has poured so much heart into it. To see it come together like this is... overwhelming in the best way.”  

“You’re known for being quite private. How are you handling all the attention tonight?”  

“It’s definitely out of my comfort zone,” you admitted with a small laugh. “But I’m surrounded by such a talented and supportive team, which makes it easier.”  

Then, inevitably, came the question you’d been bracing for. “We couldn’t help but notice that Pedro Pascal isn’t here tonight. Do you miss him?”  

The question tugged at something deep inside you. “I miss him so much,” you said softly, your expression softening. “He’s busy promoting Gladiator 2 and filming in London. I know he wishes he could be here, just like I wish I could be there for him. We’re both incredibly proud of each other, though.” You grinned, a playful sparkle in your eyes. “But, of course, Wicked is better. Don’t tell him I said that.”  

The interviewer laughed, and you followed with a wink before stepping away.  

AFTER THE PREMIERE  

As the credits rolled and the crowd applauded, you walked alongside Jon, Winnie, and Dana toward the exit. The night air was cool and refreshing after the heat of the theater.  

“You were glowing on that carpet,” Winnie teased, nudging you gently.  

Jon smirked. “Bet it’s because of a certain someone who couldn’t make it.”  

You flushed immediately, your cheeks warming. “Stop,” you mumbled, though your smile betrayed your embarrassment.  

“Oh, come on,” Dana added with a laugh. “You were gushing about him earlier. Just admit it—you’re head over heels.”  

You sighed dramatically, though your heart raced just thinking about Pedro. “Okay, fine. I miss him like crazy. I just—” You paused, glancing up at the stars. “I wish I could be there for him, you know? For his premiere. He’s always so supportive of me. It feels wrong not to do the same.”  

Jon stopped walking, turning to face you with a thoughtful look. “So go.”  

“What?”  

“Go to him,” he said with a shrug. “Take the jet. I’ll make the call.”  

You blinked at him, stunned. “You—you’d let me do that?”  

“Of course,” Jon said, waving off your concern. “You’re part of the heart of this project. If being with him makes you happy, it’s worth it.”  

“But I don’t have a ticket, and I need to pack, and—”  

Dana held up a hand, already pulling out her phone. “Relax. I’ll call a car, and we’ll pack together. You just focus on getting there.”  

Before you could protest further, Jon had already stepped aside, dialing someone on his phone. Dana grabbed your arm and started steering you toward the waiting car.  

“You’re really doing this,” she said, grinning.  

“I—I guess I am.” Your voice trembled with excitement and nerves. “What if I don’t make it in time? What if—”  

Dana cut you off with a gentle squeeze on your shoulder. “You’ll make it. And even if you don’t, just being there will mean everything to him.”  

AT THE AIRPORT  

The private jet was waiting for you, its sleek frame illuminated by the glow of the runway lights. You quickly texted Pedro’s manager and assistant, letting them know you were on your way.  

You: I’m coming to London. Please don’t tell him. I want it to be a surprise.  

The response was almost immediate:  

Franklin Latt: Got it. He’s going to lose his mind—in the best way.  

As you settled into your seat and the jet began to taxi, your heart raced. Seven hours separated you from Pedro, but for the first time in days, the distance didn’t feel insurmountable.  

You leaned your head back against the seat, clutching your phone tightly as you closed your eyes. You could already picture the look on his face when he saw you.  

Just hold on, Pedro. I’m on my way.  

UNITED KINGDOM, LONDON, ODEON LUXE LEICESTER SQUARE — EVENING

The energy in Leicester Square was electric. Fans filled the barricades, the roar of excitement nearly drowning out the camera flashes as Pedro made his way down the red carpet. Dressed in a sharp black shirt, the top unbuttoned, slacks, his signature charm, and a warm smile lit up every interaction as he stopped to greet fans and pose for photos.

The press area was bustling, and soon Pedro found himself standing in front of a journalist holding a microphone.

“Pedro, congratulations on Gladiator 2! How does it feel to be here tonight celebrating this film?”

Pedro grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “It feels incredible. This is one of those projects you dream about as an actor, and to see it all come together, to see everyone’s hard work pay off, it’s… it’s a real honor.”

The interviewer nodded. “You’ve had an amazing year, between this and your other projects. But we couldn’t help but notice that someone special in your life had a big night recently—the Wicked premiere in New York. Did you get a chance to see any photos?”

Pedro’s face lit up instantly, a laugh bubbling out of him. “Oh, I did. Believe me, I did. She sent me some pictures, and I’ve seen the ones floating around online too. I mean… she looked absolutely stunning. Like, knock-you-out, breathtakingly gorgeous. I might be a little biased, but still.”

The crowd nearby caught wind of his gushing, and a few cheers erupted. Pedro laughed, scratching the back of his neck.

“Honestly, I’m so proud of her,” he continued, his voice softening. “She poured so much of herself into that screenplay, and to see her get the recognition she deserves? It’s the best feeling in the world.”

The interviewer smiled. “There’s definitely a lot of love and mutual admiration between you two. Word on the street is you’ve got a bit of a friendly competition going on—Gladiator 2 versus Wicked. Any truth to that?”

Pedro chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Oh, it’s absolutely true. We’ve got a bet going. She’s convinced Wicked is going to sweep the box office, and I, of course, have complete faith in Gladiator 2. Let’s just say the stakes are high—winner gets breakfast in bed for a week.”

The interviewer laughed along with him. “That’s adorable. Who’s winning so far?”

Pedro smirked. “Let’s just say she’s got me a little worried. But I’ll never admit that to her.”

LATER, BACKSTAGE

Pedro leaned against the wall, sipping from a glass of water while chatting with Paul Mescal. Their conversation flowed easily, but Pedro’s gaze kept drifting toward the entrance, as if hoping for some sort of miracle.

“You’ve got that look again,” Paul teased, nudging him with his elbow.

“What look?” Pedro asked, feigning ignorance.

“The ‘I’m desperately in love and missing my girl’ look,” Paul quipped with a grin.

Denzel Washington, who had just joined the conversation, chuckled. “He’s not wrong, man. You’ve been staring off into space like a lovesick teenager.”

Joe Quinn walked by, overhearing the exchange and throwing in his two cents. “It’s cute, though. Very romantic. Someone should write a movie about it.”

Pedro rolled his eyes, though a bashful smile crept onto his face. “Okay, okay, I miss her. Can you blame me? She’s halfway across the world, and I can’t stop thinking about her.”

Frank, Pedro’s manager, stepped in, giving him a supportive pat on the back. “You’ve got it bad, buddy. But hey, it’s not a bad problem to have.”

Frank couldn’t help but smile to himself, already knowing what Pedro didn’t—that you were on your way. He could only imagine Pedro’s reaction when he saw you walk through those doors.

“Alright,” Pedro said with a dramatic sigh, “can we please focus on the fact that we’re here for Gladiator 2 and not my love life?”

“Sure,” Paul said, smirking. “But if she shows up, we’re all watching you lose it.”

Pedro laughed, shaking his head. “I’ll take that bet.”

Little did he know, he was about to owe a lot of people a round of drinks.

UNITED KINGDOM, LONDON, ODEON LUXE LEICESTER SQUARE — EVENING  

The crowd in the after-party buzzed with excitement, a mix of A-list chatter and glasses clinking. Pedro stood near Lux, their conversation about the night’s success lighthearted, though his gaze kept drifting toward the entrance. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, only that the ache of missing you hadn’t dulled, even amidst all the celebration.  

Lux, sharp-eyed as always, caught the slight shift in his expression and smirked. “You’ve got that look again,” she teased.  

“What look?” Pedro asked, feigning nonchalance as he sipped his drink.  

“The one that screams, ‘I wish she were here.’” Lux nudged his arm playfully.  

Before he could muster a witty retort, Lux’s eyes darted toward the entrance, widening in surprise. “Well, speak of the devil…”  

Pedro turned, following her gaze, and the breath left his lungs.  

There you were, stepping into the room, your black silk gown catching the dim lights perfectly. Your hair, slightly tousled from the rush, framed your face with an effortless beauty that made his heart stop. Heads turned as you walked in with Frank, but Pedro didn’t notice anyone else.  

He froze, jaw slack, his mind racing to comprehend that you were actually here.  

“Pedro,” Lux whispered, amused. “Close your mouth before you catch a fly.”  

But Pedro couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. All he could do was watch as you walked toward him, the soft smile on your lips turning into a grin as your eyes met his. He vaguely registered Joe, Paul, and Denzel laughing nearby, but he didn’t care. You were here.  

When you finally stopped in front of him, your grin widened, and you quipped, “Sorry, I’m late. Traffic was terrible—there’s a movie premiere happening, and I—”  

Before you could finish, Pedro moved.  

He swept you up in his arms, lifting you off your feet as a chorus of cheers, whistles, and laughter erupted around you. You let out a surprised giggle, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as he held you close, burying his face against your shoulder.  

“Dios mío,” Pedro murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re here.”  

“I’m here,” you whispered back, your fingers threading through his curls.  

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes brimming with love. “I can’t believe this. You’re really here.”  

You smiled, tears threatening to spill as you cupped his face. “I couldn’t let you have all the fun without me.”  

Pedro didn’t hesitate. He closed the distance, kissing you with a fervor that made the entire room fade away. The kiss was deep, all-consuming, and when you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless.  

Your laughter broke the moment, and Pedro pressed his forehead to yours, his hands still firmly around your waist as if afraid you might disappear. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice trembling slightly.  

“For what?” you asked softly, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw.  

“For being here. For being you. For… everything.” His voice was low, reverent. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’ll never stop thanking the universe for it.”  

You kissed him again, a soft press of lips this time, and smiled against his mouth. “You don’t have to thank the universe. Just let me love you.”  

Pedro let out a soft laugh, his arms tightening around you. “You’re incredible, you know that?”  

“You’ve mentioned it once or twice,” you teased, resting your head against his chest as the room slowly came back into focus.  

From the sidelines, Joe nudged Paul, chuckling. “Think he’s gonna let her go anytime soon?”  

Paul smirked. “Not a chance.”  

Denzel clinked his glass against Joe’s. “Now that’s a man in love.”  

And Pedro? He didn’t care about the laughter, the cameras, or even the early morning call time tomorrow. For now, you were in his arms, and nothing else mattered.