#grab me a bite to eat the series

[skzdarlings]

everything ; skz ; werewolf!felix x reader

requested by @yongbbokkie: if possible, can I have Sunshine!Felix with the prompt/s: ❛ i'm waiting for your permission to let me have my way with you. ❜ and ❛ do whatever you want with me, i'm yours. ❜

((maybe it's a pining from afar situation and something puts them in close quarters and Felix just can't help himself anymore))

read on ao3

pairing: lee felix/reader content info: werewolf!au. friends2lovers. miscommunication and misunderstandings followed by resolution and smut. mentions of reader being in a past abusive relationship though the circumstances are not detailed. not omegaverse just werewolves but mentions of rut cycles and slightly different physiology.

this is, um, the wettest thing i've ever written. there is no other word for it. so much come, masturbating (reader walks in on felix), pervy masturbating using reader's stuff lol, massive breeding kink, multiple rounds, scenting, possessiveness, throat-grabbing, biting, pussy eating, squirting, dirty talk. did i mention come.

word count: 15800 words. (hope it makes up for the delay hehe)

masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

enjoy <3

-

For a few moments, Felix is yours.  There is no awkwardness, no reluctance, just dancing, just friendship. 

The club is packed so tightly, the lights and music as roaring as lightning and thunder.  The extra stimulation overwhelms the senses, even werewolf senses.  He doesn’t think and neither do you.  You just dance, finding each other in the bouncing circle of your half-drunk friend group.  He smiles and you take his hand, letting him pull you across the dance floor and into his arms. 

You’ve missed this smile.  You’ve missed these arms.   

Sure, Felix is still your best friend and he is never truly far.  The distance is not literal, just emotional, and that is so much worse. 

Ever since his werewolf genes kicked in, ever since a pack took him in, things have just been… different. 

Right now, you can pretend nothing has changed.  You are far away from ivory moons waning over woodlands, of werewolf packs and supernatural powers.  His senses are diluted here, overpowered by so many moving bodies and so much wild noise. 

Felix smiles, that wonderful big smile that crinkles his eyes so sweetly.  Lights flash over him, his blonde hair nearly glowing, his freckles like stars.  He’s your best friend again.  All yours for a few precious moments. 

He’s bigger than he was, you think, with a bit of a flush, as you dance closer to him, his arms circling your body.  Or maybe I just never noticed before. 

Felix is not very tall, but he is not small either, lean and athletic and confident in every inch of his body.  It feels like he is everywhere.  Every time a strobe light flashes over him, he seems a little closer.  You breathe in his cologne, subtler than it used to be because his sense of smell is so powerful now, but still recognizable. 

You are definitely not a werewolf, but you are captivated by that smell.  Something oak, woodsy, masculine but pretty.   So very Felix.  You want to bathe in that smell, luxuriate in him.  You spent so many nights curled into his side, sharing his bed, wearing one of his hoodies, that you associate that scent with everything good, safe, and home. 

His hands dance up your sides very softly, his breath puffing across your cheek as you dance and dance.  One song pours into the next.  You lose track of time.  In forgetting the world, you forget yourself.   You slide your arms around his shoulders and press close to him. 

You used to hug him like this so easily, but you have hardly touched him at all the last few months.  Felix could never be cruel to anyone so he has not outright rejected your usual closeness, but it is obvious that your touch now makes him uncomfortable.  The last thing you ever, ever want to do is hurt Felix.   So you have followed his lead.  Every time he accidentally pulls a face –  a displeased twitch of his nose, an upset furrow of his brow – you have backed away.   

It’s just the werewolf senses, you keep telling yourself.  He’s more sensitive now, that’s all. 

He still hugs the others.  The werewolf boys love rough-housing, in fact, tumbling all over each other constantly.

That’s different.  Yes, very different than this, right here, right now, his hands sliding down your sides – slowly, like he is memorizing the shape of your waist.  He squeezes your hips and it fills you with heat.  His hot face touches yours, cheek to cheek.  The music is pounding, a frantic sound, but you are slow dancing, keeping to the rhythm of your heartbeats where they beat against each other. 

You slide a hand up the back of his neck, into his long blonde hair.  You feel the shudder move through his whole body.   It makes your legs feel weak, realizing the effect you have on him.  It seems impossible, especially with how much he has pushed you away, but there is no way he is shivering for any other reason.  He cannot possibly be cold.  The club is packed and, besides, he is not human.  He runs hot. 

So hot.  He radiates it, burning where your bodies press together.  Felix has always been the sunshine that keeps you warm, but this is a different heat.  You know better than to succumb to it, knowing this moment will pass, but right now it is so easy to cling to him, to breathe him in, to feel like the world is just you and him. 

The real world soon returns.  It’s getting late so your friends call it a night. 

“We’ll drop you off, yeah?” Chan says to you.  Felix lives with him and the other wolves now.  They all have their own apartments but they live in the same high-rise.  You live a few blocks down, close, but not quite belonging. 

“I don’t mind walking,” you say. 

You do not want to intrude and you do not want to make Felix uncomfortable.  He doesn’t even know Chan is offering you a ride because he standing so far away. 

Felix is looking at his phone, slouched against the car while everyone organizes themselves.  He is wearing a leather jacket, a white shirt, blue jeans, his long hair falling into his face.  You want to brush it back, feel it between your fingers.  You want to lift his face and see his smile.    

But he doesn’t look at you.  Now that you are outside, now that the heat has dissipated and the cold breeze carries your bland, dull, human scent, now that he can remember you are not special and not like him – now, he is someone else, and you are too, and it is cold and dreary and miserable. 

“What?”  Chan says.  He is such a good pack leader and a good friend, but it makes him utterly oblivious to little dramas like this.  “You’re not walking by yourself this late at night, don’t be crazy.  Come on.” 

The pack leader does not take no for an answer.  Even though you are not in the pack, being human, there is no refusing Bang Chan.  He grabs you by the wrist and drags you to his car. 

Jeongin is in the front seat.  Seungmin takes a back corner before Felix can lift his head, before he even knows you will be in the car too. 

Felix looks tense when realizes he is trapped with you.   Whether he takes the middle seat or the other corner, you will be beside him.  If standing together outside is so intolerable, then being in a car is going to be torturous.  

“I can walk,” you say to him. 

“What?”  He shakes his head.  When he smiles, it is not his usual smile, not something real.  You know the difference.  His proper smile brightens you but this smile makes your heart sink.  “Of course not,” he says.  “C’mon.  It’s late.  Let’s get home, yeah?”   

“Yeah,” you say, but he is already gone, taking all sense of home with him.   

You take the middle seat.  Felix rolls his window down and leans towards it.  His eyes are closed the entire journey, the wind blowing across his tired face. 

Seungmin is also a werewolf but he does not seem bothered by your human scent.  Jeongin and Chan, the other packmates, likewise seem indifferent, chatting about everything and nothing, totally unperturbed.   And you must cross paths with many werewolves during the day, but no one ever seems bothered by you. 

Felix is the only werewolf who seems to have a problem with your scent.  You do not know what it is that affects him so deeply.  You have tried changing soaps and shampoos but nothing seems to help.  It must be something natural to your human body.  Humans do not smell like werewolves in general.  Werewolves release pheromones that humans cannot smell, and it is important in forging interpersonal dynamics.  That includes romance.  Werewolves mate for life.  You know they find their true mates through smell as much as the other senses.  They are biologically wired to pursue their perfect match based on all those senses. 

You are not a werewolf.  You can never be his true mate.  In the few months since he fully and rapidly developed his werewolf senses, Felix has withdrawn from you even though he promised it would never separate you. 

You used to talk about what would happen if his werewolf genes activated.  He comes from a family of werewolves but the gene lays dormant in certain carriers.  Most werewolves develop in puberty if they develop at all.  Some people never develop their wolven senses or powers.  A minority, like Felix, are triggered by something in adulthood and succumb all at once. 

It was always a possibility, however minute, but he promised things would stay the same.  He said you were his person, that best friend did not even suffice as a word to describe your love.

You’re my world, you know, he said one night, speaking with the sort of earnest sincerity that only Felix could, his deep voice rumbling in your ear as you cuddled into him.     

You wanted to say it back but you were hurting at the time.  You ended a bad relationship a year earlier.  It took your tender heart far too long to realize how badly your ex-boyfriend was treating you.  When Felix found out the details, he was furious, though he kept it down around you.  You had never seen your best friend so emotional.  He became even more protective in the aftermath. 

He showed you, time and time again, what real love is supposed to be.  It doesn’t rush or demand, it doesn’t manipulate or coerce, and it doesn’t ask you to be small.  He would hold you all night if that’s what you needed.  He would make you laugh and let you cry. 

You slowly realized true love had been in front of you, all this time, begging to be seen. 

At least, you thought so.   After such a bad relationship, you were taking it slow, and Felix never rushed you.  You thought, maybe, one day…

But just when you were ready, everything changed.  The werewolf gene unexpectedly activated.  Felix was admitted to a wolven hospital and underwent his first transformation under a full moon.  When he came home, he was different.   Sure, he was still Felix, with his long dyed hair and his many freckles and his sun-kissed skin, but his brown eyes were so very different when he looked at you. 

If he looked at you, which he avoids these days.     

“Home sweet home,” Chan says, parking the car outside your apartment building. 

Felix wastes no time getting out of the vehicle, practically spilling onto the sidewalk in his haste.   He holds the door for you but averts his gaze. 

You thank Chan, say good night to the other boys, then you shuffle across the seat and step out of the car.   Felix still does not look at you, pretending he is distracted with something across the street. 

You are a little tipsy, your emotions easily riled.  You want to say good night so it will finally prompt him to look at you, but you are suddenly very choked up.  Thoughtlessly, you touch his arm instead.

He flinches.  It feels worse than a slap.

You do not look at him again, hurrying to the building before he can see the tears in your eyes. 

Miraculously, you hold them in until you reach your apartment.  You are one foot in the doorway when the tears spill, all the emotions you’ve suppressed over the last few months finally flooding free.  The door falls closed with a slam and the whole world collapses under you.

You drop right there, knees pulled up to your chest and face buried in your hands. 

You spent so many nights like this, crying all alone until you worked up the courage to tell Felix about your bad relationship.  He was immediately understanding.  It was so foolish to fear he would ever judge you.  He put an arm around you and held you all night.

He is the person you want to call when you are hurting.  It is agonizing to be without him.  He is the one person you need and the one person you cannot call right now. 

You let yourself feel sorry and miserable.  When the tears have subsided and you are slouched against your door, empty and tired, you make a decision to end this.  You have spent too much of your life collapsed on the floor and crying on your lonesome.  You refuse to do it again. 

As horrible as it is, you need to distance yourself from Felix.  This slow deterioration of your relationship is excruciating.   If he decides to reach out, you will be there, but you simply cannot continue to compromise yourself. 

You somehow manage to wash up and get in bed.   You sleep through the morning and rise late, delaying the inevitable a little longer by scrolling on your phone.  Felix used to be the first text of the day but there is nothing from him.  You would usually message anyway but today you put your phone aside and get out of bed. 

So much of Felix is in your apartment.  Borrowed hoodies, games, books, and so much more.  Items are littered everywhere from the bedroom to the bathroom to the kitchen and back.   It takes an hour and you are not sure you find everything because he is so inextricably woven into your living space.  You do not even see it anymore because it – because he – is always there. 

You fill a cardboard box.  Your plan is to walk the couple blocks to the high-rise and return it with a vague explanation.  You are not sure what to say.  Perhaps it is best to opt for brevity.  After all, this is not a break-up because you are not a couple. 

No, you think, staring at the full box with watery eyes, this is worse. 

You make it a few steps out your door before you drop the box.  It is way, way too heavy for you to carry two feet, never mind two city blocks.  Already panting with exertion, you stare at the box taking up a huge slab of the narrow corridor. 

You really don’t want to ask him to come get it, nor do you want to make multiple trips.  You are scared that if you give him the opportunity, he will try and reassure you that nothing is wrong and you don’t need to do this.  You’ll believe him in the moment, but then it will start all over again.  

Like ripping off a bandage, it has to go all at once.  It’s time to heal. 

You push the box, budging it down the corridor inch by slow inch.  You reach the elevator and press the call button.   You calculate the logistics of pushing and shoving the box for two blocks, mostly concerned the cardboard will rip if it snags on something outside. 

Lost in thought, you don’t see a person in the elevator and accidentally shove the box at him.  He yelps, a loud cry of surprise as he jumps aside.  It makes you leap out of your skin, shooting upright to look at him. 

Some of your despondency leaves at the friendly face of your neighbour.

“Changbin!” you say.  “I’m so sorry.  I didn’t even see you there.”

“Hey now,” he says, winking, his handsome face plastered with a grin, “I’m not that short.” 

“No, of course not,” you say, laughing along with him. 

Changbin is a werewolf as well.  There are a lot of packs on this side of town because the large national park is nearby.   The wolves like to use the expansive forest when the full moon cycle swings around. 

“Moving out?” he asks with an eyebrow quirk.

“Ah,” you say.  “Not quite.”

You explain your predicament, that the box belongs to a friend and you need to somehow reach his apartment building two blocks away.  Changbin, ever the charmer and ever the helper, immediately offers his aid. 

“Oh, you don’t have to—” you start, but he has already swung the big box into his arms.

Werewolves do have supernatural strength.  Changbin looks strong, with big biceps and a stocky frame, never mind the supernatural enhancement.   He doesn’t even break a sweat.  The box might as well be empty for all the difference it makes to him.

He is kind enough to walk two blocks to the high-rise.  You chat on the way and find the conversation flows easily.   You also can’t help but notice he has no problem with your scent.  It really is just Felix who seems so repulsed. 

You ring the buzzer for Felix’s apartment but there is no answer.  You try a couple more times, embarrassed because Changbin is waiting.  Fortunately, he is very non-plussed, humming to himself while you ring the buzzer. 

After a few tries, you ring Chan instead.  He answers promptly and you explain the bare bones of the situation, that you have a box for Felix and you would appreciate if he could pass it along.   Chan agrees, of course. 

Maybe it is for the best. You can leave the box with Chan and not even have to confront Felix at all.   

Chan buzzes you into the building.  Changbin walks you to the elevator where he puts the box down.  You thank him profusely but he waves it off and states he was happy to help. 

It looks like he wants to say something more, looking at you while he rubs the back of his neck.   In the end, he says he will see you around and departs.

You exhale.  The worst of your nerves have dissipated since Felix is not even home.  You have been the one instigating your interactions the last few months so you figure if you just quietly step back, he won’t even notice. 

It pains you to admit it, that you could disappear from his life and he would just… not care.  You stuff those feelings down, down, down for now.  You prepare a friendly smile for Chan so he doesn’t ask too many questions. 

When you reach the pack floor, you give the box a good shove into the corridor.   Chan lives directly across from the elevator so you don’t have far to go.

Except there are voices in the corridor.  You turn towards the sound. 

An awful chill freezes in your blood, your whole body going rigid at what you see. 

Felix is home.  He is standing in his open doorway, half-dressed in a pair of jeans and nothing more.  His long hair looks more dishevelled than usual, like someone has been running their fingers through it. 

Someone.  He is talking to a young woman.  You don’t know her too well, simply that she is the only female werewolf in Chan’s small pack.  She is wearing more clothes than Felix but still very casual in shorts and a t-shirt, barefoot like this is her home.   You suppose it is, much more her home than yours.   

She belongs.  You do not. 

Her and Felix are standing close while they converse.  So close.  They speak to each other in hushed tones, her expression tender and sympathetic while Felix winces in seeming pain.  The details of their conversation are inarticulate at a distance but their voices are nonetheless audible. 

Your scent reaches Felix first.  He straightens so fast it would be comical under any other circumstances. 

Nothing is funny right now.  You feel like a complete and utter fool, standing in his corridor with a box of his things like he cares about them at all.  He has already moved on.  You were in denial, a stupid little human girl still clinging desperately to old memories.   

“I better go,” the woman says.  She leans up and kisses Felix on the cheek, gives him a little wink and mumbles something only he can hear.   She turns and walks into the apartment next door, giving you a genuinely friendly wave.  She has always been polite to you and you have no reason to dislike her.  You can only wave back pathetically. 

Your hand slaps your side when she disappears into her apartment.  You and Felix look at each other. 

He looks guilty.  Sweat dots his hairline, streaks his bare chest, and his face is flushed.  It is very obvious what he has been doing all morning.  

The thought of such a fantasy was once tantalizing.  The sight of him, like this, would make you dizzy. You remember the last time he casually took off his shirt, the swoop of desire that moved inside you, a sensation you did not even know you could still feel after your bad relationship.

Now that swoop is just nausea.  There is no pleasure in it at all.   

You are completely mortified. 

“Hey,” Felix says.   His deep voice breaks on a high-pitched twinge.  He clears his throat.   “Um,” he says.  He runs his fingers through his hair, mussing it even more.   He can’t seem to bring himself to meet your gaze, eyes darting all over the corridor but never you.

You curl your fingers, nails pressing hard into your palm. 

“Look,” he says, clearing his throat again.  “We need to talk about—”

You don’t want to hear it.  You can’t hear it.  You are hurt and embarrassed and devastated.  Why couldn’t he just tell you he wanted to pursue a werewolf?  It makes sense, biologically, and you can hardly fault him for the desire.   Honesty would have hurt but not like this.  Now you have to suffer the rejection of the only man you ever truly loved and suffer the fact you were not even worth a conversation. 

It is too late to talk.    

“It’s fine, Felix,” you say.  All your messy, menial scripts crumble in your mind.  Emotion takes over, bitterness and pain and irritation.   “I brought you your things,” you say, pointing to the box.  His eyes dart there for the first time, brow furrowing.  “If I find anymore, I’ll give them to Chan.  He’ll pass them along.”

“Um, what?”  He looks from the box to you. 

“I can’t do this anymore,” you say, blinking back tears.  Your feelings come out in fragments, word after word with little coherency.  “After everything I went through last year – I just – this is too much.  The werewolf thing – I just – I can’t.  I’m sorry.  I can’t have you in my life like this.  Thank you for your friendship.  The memories will always be important to me.  But it’s for the best we don’t see each other again.”

You had not planned on so much finality, but that was before.  Now you need to leave.  If you stay here another second, you are going to fall apart. 

“Good luck with everything,” you say. 

You turn to leave but he says your name.  You suck in a breath, wait a beat, and slowly turn back around. 

Felix walks partway down the hallway, his whole face screwed up with pain and confusion.  His mouth is moving but no words are coming out.  Finally he closes his eyes and shakes his head, slamming a hand into his hair. 

“Hold on,” he says.  “Hold on, I – what are you talking about?  You – you don’t want to be friends?  How can – You can’t—”  That deep voice breaks again, fracturing with emotion. 

A part of you knows that you are being too harsh, letting your own emotions dominate your words.  Another part of you is too heartbroken to care. 

“It’s for the best,” you say weakly, your voice barely more than a breath of a sound.  “Really.” 

“For the best?” he asks, voice pitching up again.   He has not looked at you so intensely for so long.  “How can you say that to me?”

Much to your horror, he starts crying first.  His tears seem to catch him by surprise too, his expression puckering as he tries to stop it.  A hand flies up, covering his eyes.  He shakes his head rapidly. 

“Felix,” you whisper. 

“For the best?” he repeats.  He drops his hand and takes a shuddering breath. 

You avert your gaze.  You can’t stand to look at his eyes so full of tears, his face so strained with hurt. 

“Did something happen?” he asks, taking a few more steps towards you.  “Was it – was it me?  You said – the werewolf thing –  Did I do something?  Please, please tell me.”

He doesn’t even realize how much he has withdrawn from you.  He is bad at controlling his face, as evidenced now, so he probably has no idea how blatant his repulsion has been.   Maybe he thought he was being subtle.  Maybe he thought you wouldn’t care, that you were just his friend and you would be content to relegate yourself to the sidelines of his life.  Maybe that is all your fault after all. 

If you were a better friend, you would have coped with his new feelings.  You would have been happy for him.  If you were a better friend, maybe he would have told you sooner. 

“You deserve a better friend than me,” you say. 

He looks at you like you are completely crazy, his head tilted, his eyes narrowing. 

“What?” he asks.  “Where is this coming from?  Please, I don’t understand.  You can’t be saying what I think you’re saying.” 

“I already told you,” you say, as calmly as you can.  “I just can’t do this anymore.  Our lives are heading in different directions and I – I – I just need to go.  I want to go.  Please.” 

You have known Felix all your life.  You were children together, hapless youths on a playground that immediately loved each other with the easy, thoughtless affection of childhood. 

He reminds you of that child now, innocently standing in the corridor with his arms hanging limp at his sides and so much bewilderment on his freckled face. 

“You want to go?” he repeats, voice low, soft.  

You nod.  After a second, he nods back, bottom lip still quivering.  A fresh stream of tears spill over his eyes.  He hiccups on a sob, turning away and covering his face.

“Fine,” he says, speaking between shaky breaths.  “Go.  I can’t – I can’t keep you here if you want to go.” 

“Thank you,” you say softly.  The elevator is still waiting when you press the call button.  You step onto it and say, “Good bye, Felix.” 

As the doors close, you hear another choking sob.  You name is lost in the sound.    

The door closes. 

-

The regret is instantaneous.  You stare at your phone for hours and even debate returning to his apartment, but in the end you do nothing. 

You replay every moment, from seeing him with the other werewolf to his confusion and your departure.  It was a long, long walk home, tears streaming down your face as your mind went back even further, remembering every moment of your friendship. 

How could this have happened?  You and Felix have always been open with each other.  He was the first person you confided in about your bad relationship and he immediately did everything to save you from it.  But when it was the other way around, when the werewolf gene activated, he turned away from your friendship.  You poured your heart out to him, trusting he would catch it and keep it safe, but he did not feel the same way. 

Secrets, confusion, heartbreak.  It plays on a loop in your mind. 

It is the middle of the night when you get a text.  He has not messaged in a while, not in a substantial way.  If you scroll back on your phone, you can see the disintegration of communication, the days when he would send message after message with any and every thought slowly petering down to brief replies and a vague acknowledgement at the very best. 

This message is more.  You can hear his voice when you read it, can picture those dark eyes. 

Tell me this isn’t real.  Please. 

You feel sick.  You are angry at him for being the one to withdraw only to suddenly turn on his heel.  You are angry at yourself for reacting so drastically and immaturely.   Mostly, you are just sad. 

If I did something, I’m sorry, he writes.  I’ll never stop being sorry.  I’ll fix it.  I’ll keep my distance.  Just don’t say I can never see you again. 

You type a reply, then delete it, then repeat.  

You say nothing. Every time you try, you see him and her in that corridor, you see him flinching from your touch, you see him recoiling at your scent.  It twists and tangles with memories of warm nights and tender smiles.  You wipe your tears and remember when he did it for you, his thumb so gently sweeping your cheek.  He used to touch you like you were precious to him.  Now he flinches from your touch.    

He does not text the next day, or the day after, or the day after that.   You are not sure if it is better or worse. 

After about a week, he messages again, stating, I miss you.   

You are at your work desk but he immediately seizes your full attention, as he always has. 

You stare at your phone.  You take a breath.   You have had a few days to decompress, to let the wound bleed.  It is still sore to the touch. 

You write, I miss you too. 

You do not check your phone for a while, listening to the relentless buzz as he sends eager message after eager message.  It feels like the old days for a minute, but slows to a stop when you do not reply.  You read them back later, his pleading, his sweetness.  It makes you spiral, on the one hand wanting to take it all back, but on the other hand picturing his flinch, his disgust, knowing it is only a matter of time before your heart breaks again. 

You do not reply.  He takes the hint and gives you a few more days, then he messages, I still have your stuff in my place too, you know? 

I know, is all you say.  I have more of your stuff too.

As predicted, you have been finding his things all over the apartment.   Even things which are technically yours are still stamped with his memory.  He helped you move into this place after the break-up.  He took you shopping and paid for so many things to get you back on your feet.  Everything from blankets to cushions to plates make you think of him.   This was just a room before he made it a home.  Without him, it is just a room again. 

There are a couple days of silence, then some of his packmates start messaging you.  You don’t think he is sending them after you, as Felix would never manipulate or coerce you like that.  They reach out of their own volition, curious because they have not seen you in a while.  But it is all so overwhelming, so you throw your phone under a pillow and go for a walk.

That is when you run into Changbin again.   His smile is charming as ever when he strikes up a friendly conversation.   

“I was wondering,” he says, scratching the back of his neck, not-so-inadvertently flexing his big bicep when he does, “I was going to ask a couple weeks ago, when I helped you with that box – ah, I was kicking myself after because I didn’t see you for a while.  But – I thought we had a nice conversation.  Maybe you and me could do something.”

“Do something,” you repeat.  It sounds like he is asking you out which is a little perplexing, because he is a werewolf and you are a human.  Surely nothing serious can come of it.  You used to think it was possible, as there are plenty of movies and romance novels to prove it, but your personal experience has led you to other conclusions.    

“A date,” he clarifies, grinning that handsome smile.  “You and me.  My treat.  No pressure.  I just think you’re clever and, ah, very beautiful, and I want to know you better.” 

A polite rejection is on the tip of your tongue.  You are not in any emotional state to try dating someone right now.   But you think of Felix and that woman in the corridor, and you think of your phone buzzing, and you think of another long, lonely night stewing in it all.   

Changbin must be looking for something casual anyway.  A werewolf would not truly settle down with a human.  Maybe this is a good opportunity to put yourself out there. 

“Sure,” you say.  “I’d like that.” 

Changbin takes you out a few days later.  You actually do enjoy yourself.  He is very charming and it is easy to talk to him, plus the date itself is very fun.  He takes you out for food then to an arcade, flopping at every game in a hilarious spectacle.  

“I’m a werewolf,” he complains later.  “I’m strong!  Those games were rigged.” 

You giggle, wrapping yourself up in the jacket he leant you.  You are walking back to the apartment building, the warm evening giving way to a cool night as you make the trek.   It is enjoyable until you reach the building, at which point you start to panic.  Does he expect to be invited into your apartment?  Does he expect… more?  The thought leaves you dizzy and not in a good way.  Changbin is so very handsome and so very likable.  Going out with him showed you that you can enjoy yourself without the crutch of a lifelong friendship. 

You don’t need Felix. 

But you still want him. 

You try to go back and find the moment it all went wrong, try to picture a different ending, but it feels impossible.  A foolish fantasy from a girl still clinging to the dying dredges of hope and affection.  There is a wonderful, handsome man at your side, a werewolf at that, and your mind is somewhere else. 

Changbin remarks on it, politely but nonetheless curiously.  He gives you a penetrating look, like he knows something is wrong and there is no use lying. 

You sigh. 

“I’m sorry,” you say.  “I just… I recently broke-up with a friend.”

“With a friend?” he asks, eyebrows jumping with surprise.  “What kind of friend?”

“A close one, very close,” you say.  “We’ve known each other forever, you see.  He’s the most wonderful person I have ever known.  He’s good to everyone, open-hearted, kind, warm.  I have truly never known a better man.  He just makes every room a little brighter when he’s in it.  You would like him, I think.  Everyone does.  He’s a werewolf but the transformation only happened for the first time this year.  Since then…”  You sniffle.  “Things have been different.  Werewolves are biologically wired to be with other werewolves and form packs… I think my human status just started affecting him negatively.”

“Biology,” Changbin says like it is a foreign word.  He looks at you with a cocked eyebrow.  “It exists, yeah, but werewolves still have hearts, you know?  It’s nice finding other werewolves so you aren’t alone, but it isn’t necessary.  Love is complicated.” 

That does give you pause for a moment.  A logical part of you knows it is true, that plenty of werewolves make relationships work with humans, but that is almost harder to accept.  If it’s just biological, then it cannot be helped.  But if it’s a choice—

“So he isn’t biologically wired to hate me now that he’s a werewolf,” you say miserably.  “It’s just something he chose to do.”

“Now, I didn’t say that,” Changbin says.  “But, if that is what happened, he’s an idiot.  If you were that obviously in love with me, ah, I wouldn’t let you go that easy.” 

“I’m not in love with him…”  The lie tumbles without an ounce of confidence.   Changbin just gives you an amused look.  Embarrassed, you drop your gaze.  “It doesn’t matter,” you say.  “He doesn’t feel the same way.  Believe me, I know how he’s been looking at me, or how he won’t. That’s why I walked away.  I was holding onto a friendship that once was and a fantasy that will never be.  It’s time to be reasonable.”

“Ah, I don’t think love is very reasonable,” he says.  “But you should stay true to yourself and do what’s right.  And, in the mean time, if you need a friend…”

You exchange smiles.  A weight lifts off your shoulder as Changbin changes the subject to friendship between you.

“I would like a friend,” you say.  “Thank you, Changbin.” 

“Ah, it’s been fun.  But give me back my jacket,” he teases.  “Since we’re friends I don’t need to impress you.  I’m cold.” 

 “I thought werewolves run hot,” you say, laughing.  You shrug off the coat and hand it to him. 

“Eh, a little bit, maybe more than humans.  But the blood really only gets hot during a rut cycle,” he says.

It is a casual statement.  He is too preoccupied with zipping up his jacket to notice you get a little flustered. 

You know a bit about ruts, namely that werewolves have a cycle which span a few days every month.  It’s a fertility and reproduction thing, pushing developed werewolves to find mates and, well, mate them.   It is a common part of the werewolf lifestyle so it is fair for Changbin to so casually mention it. 

It is not because of Changbin that you feel flustered.  You are thinking about Felix that night at the club, how burning hot he was compared to everyone else.  Now that you think of it, not even Chan felt so hot when he grabbed your wrist, nor Seungmin beside you in the car.  Felix, though, was radiating heat.  Was he starting a rut cycle?  Perhaps that explains why he was so hot and sweaty the next day during your confrontation. 

You remember the other werewolf in the corridor.  Your heart sinks again.  Was she helping him through his rut?  Then again, she left the second you arrived.  Why were they even in the hallway?  If she was spending his rut with him, surely they would have been inside together, not yapping in the hallway... 

“You look worried,” Changbin says. 

You are gnawing your bottom lip, eyes darting around as you contemplate that day.  At his words, you blink to attention, doing your best to shake the anxiety. 

“It’s nothing,” you say.  “I’m just confused about so many things right now.” 

“You know, if this guy really is so great and wonderful – and I think he is, if someone like you loves him so much – then he will probably be happy to answer your questions so you don’t feel so confused.” 

“Ugh.”  You slap a hand over your eyes and shake your head.  “Why do you have to be so decent and mentally competent and right?” 

“Jutdae,” he says, then flexes an arm and squeezes a bicep through the jacket.  “And lots of protein.”

You laugh again.  With a few more words of thanks and a promise to catch up again soon, you give him one final good night hug.  He says he might meet up with some friends so you part ways, Changbin strolling while you head inside. 

You look at your phone, considering his words as you ride the elevator to your floor.  Changbin is right.  Giving Felix the silent treatment is not helping you or him.  Even though the conversation will probably be uncomfortable in so many ways, you should talk to him.  It might not repair anything, but at least you will have closure.  That wound cannot heal so long as it is still bleeding and festering. 

You are drafting a text message in your head when you step off the elevator. 

Then you lift your eyes and stumble to a stop. 

Felix is sitting outside your apartment door.  He is wearing jeans and a blue flannel, a denim jacket on top of that.  A habitual joke is on the tip of your tongue, seeing him so decked out in his favourite colour.  It disappears at the morose look on his face.   

His long blonde hair is down around his shoulders, neglected black roots peeking at the crown of his head.  He looks a little wan and very tired, his head lolled to the side. 

He scents you before he sees you, eyes fluttering closed for a second, then he looks at you. 

He really looks at you. 

Felix always has such a softness in his gaze, but this look is searing.  It moves through you, a forceful heat twining its way around your insides.  It holds you in captivated thrall as he stands, one black boot thumping against the ground with the force of his push as he straightens himself out. 

That piercing looks crinkles as more of your scent registers to him.  His face twists with revulsion, except it is even more severe than usual.  It is so disturbed that it makes you think his past expressions were not disgust at all, because this face is so terrorized by whatever he smells. 

“Where were you?” he asks. 

You have been staring at each other in silence for so long that his voice reverberates loudly in the corridor.   It makes you jump as the smoothness of his deep voice pours into you.  It’s only been a few weeks since you last heard him speak, but somehow you forgot how profoundly that voice could affect you, especially when he drops it so deliberately. 

“Out,” you say.  You are so flustered that your body goes into defense mode, your tone sharp when you say, “I don’t need your permission for that.”   

That softens the slash of his gaze.  He shakes his head. 

“No,” he says softly.  “Of course not.  I’m sorry.”   

His apology is so sincere, eyes searching yours for something beyond the surface.  You feel like he is speaking to you without words, somehow conveying a lifetime of love in the way he looks at you, saying, it’s me.

You soften too, in every way, your voice and your posture, your heart and everything inside you.  So soft and malleable, all that heat expanding in every direction until you can imagine yourself radiating it like he did.  It feels so inappropriate to be aroused when there is so much drama between you, when a serious conversation needs to be had.  But he is looking at you so intensely, colours of emotions playing across his face.  A shaking breath draws your gaze to his lips. 

He says your name.  It feels like a touch.  You feel dizzy again, this time in a very good way, despite yourself.   

You hear his sharp intake of breath as you step a little closer.  Your scent is affecting him.  It makes him do a double-take, looking at you up and down without any subtlety.  It is blatant, searching.  For lack of a better word, predatory, a wolf on the prowl, scenting something it wants, maybe needs.   Your skirt is long, sweeping past your knees, but you feel like he can see past it somehow. 

His eyes, low on your body, flick up to your face.  Your knees knock.  That hungry look twists into something repulsed again, his brow furrowing.  It darkens his whole face.    

Of course.  He is disgusted with you and your boring human scent and he always has been.  You cannot give into hopeful delusions. 

“What are you doing here?” you ask in your most casual tone, striding up to him like you are unaffected by his presence. 

He steps to the side, staring while you fumble around in your purse for your keys. 

“I wanted to talk,” he says. 

You stare into your bag, rifling through mint wrappers and lipsticks and bus tickets.  You can feel his eyes, practically burning a hole in the side of your head.   You want to be chill, want to laugh and tell him he’s acting weird, to knock it off.  You want to be indifferent, remind him there is a distance between you now and his staring is not appropriate. 

Then he puts a hand on the door, near your head.  He moves around you, undeniably scenting you as he goes.  His other hand comes around the other side, caging you between him and the door.  Your back is to him but you can still feel his gaze, shivering when he breathes you in.  

You swallow, cringing at the wave of arousal that moves through you when his nose brushes the back of your neck. 

Werewolf instincts, you remind yourself, trying to find the resolve to snap him out of it, except that’s not what you want.  You want him to press right against you and put his mouth on your neck, to taste everything he is scenting. 

Until you remember he hates the scent.  So much so, he makes a guttural noise that sounds like a growl, rumbling at the base of his throat. 

You expect him to flinch and move away.  You imagine him shaking his head as he abandons his efforts to reconcile because you’re just not worth it. 

You are not expecting him to say, “Why do you smell like another werewolf?” 

“What?” you say.  “I – I don’t—”

“Yes, you do,” he says, taking another deep breath.  “It’s all over you.  Who is he?” 

Oh, you have been wearing Changbin’s jacket for the last half-hour.  You did not notice any smell but you are not a werewolf.   To Felix, you must be utterly smothered in it.   You wonder if it smells like a sex pheromone, given Changbin was taking you on a date, maybe permeating a desire your human senses did not notice. 

Whatever it is, it has Felix riled in a way you have never seen before.  He has been very careful to hold himself in check around you.  The worst of his werewolf symptoms have been hidden from the start.   It is part of why you are so hurt, that he would not trust you with it. 

Now it overrides his good sense.  His nose swipes the back of your neck again, his fingers curling against the door where his hands sit. 

“He’s just a friend,” you say. 

“A friend,” he repeats.  “He doesn’t smell like a friend.” 

“Well, he is,” you say.  All your desire, heartbreak, and desperation swell inside you, bursting like a firework, hot and crackling.  With a pounding heart, you turn around to face him, intent on confrontation when you snap, “Why would that even matter to you?” 

You look into his eyes.  He is so close, arms around you, that woodsy scent enveloping you.  It feels like coming home, falling into his gaze, letting the heat wash over you as he stares back.  There is something animalistic about his intensity, a predator with its hackles raised, sights set and hunger striking.    

“Felix,” you whisper, voice heavy with a thousand questions that never manifest. 

One hand leaves the door.  He grabs the back of your neck, not roughly, not cruelly, but with an undoubted and irrevocable command.  It makes another firework burst inside you.  You gasp. 

That gasp is interrupted when he dives in without any hesitation, his mouth thoroughly claiming yours in a hot, desperate kiss. 

Whenever you dared to fantasize a kiss with Felix, it was always soft, a little brief, giving it time to grow.  You never imagined so much heat overwhelming you all at once, that his mouth would be so ravishing.  You didn’t even know a kiss could move through your whole body, that when he puts his tongue in your mouth it would feel like he is already fucking you, your body throbbing with want. 

It is not just werewolf instinct because you react too.  You drop your purse on the floor and put your hands on him, one on his chest and the other his neck, clinging to him like he clings to you.  He takes it as invitation, his other hand leaving the door to hold your waist.  His grip is powerful, but despite the supernatural strength it does not hurt.  No, Felix would never hurt you.  Oh, it was so stupid to think he ever would. 

He makes a sound that has you whimpering in turn, the low grunt pressing at your most vulnerable places.  The kiss is open-mouthed, hot and wet and messy. 

He walks you back that final step, pressing you to the door.  He cups the back of your head so you don’t hit it.

You grab the collar of his denim jacket and yank on it, pulling him even closer.  You are completely delirious with him. Everything that has happened and everything that will happen is wholly unimportant as he slots his whole body along yours. 

His leg pushes between your thighs, his hips pinning you to the door.  The thought would have you terrified a year ago, but now it just feels right.  Of course it feels right, because this is Felix, who has seen you at your most vulnerable and healed you, who has caught you every time you fall.  He will always fix what hurts.  He will always take care of you. 

Your body knows it, begging for him, hips rearing towards him.  It presses his thigh against the juncture between your legs, makes it so your flimsy skirt doesn’t matter at all.  You are not thinking when you start to rock against him. 

You forgot your body could feel so much pleasure. 

“Oh, fuck—” he says, his already deep voice somehow even lower as he curses.  

You squeak as he holds you against the door, deliberately rocking his thigh between yours with more pressure and speed than you could manage.  It makes a torrent of mortifying sounds spill past your lips, but he gathers them all up lovingly, tastes them on his tongue as he chases down your gasping breath.  Every little mewl, every breath, every squeaking hiccup is swallowed up by him. 

“Come for me, please,” he whispers, roughly.  It sounds like begging despite how much physical power he has over you.  It would scare if it was someone else, but that supernatural strength doesn’t matter because it bends to you, waiting for your permission.

You just barely remember you are in the corridor.  You hope no one chooses now to step out of their apartment.  You wonder if the other werewolves on the floor can scent whatever pheromones Felix must be giving off. 

It doesn’t matter.  You’re hurtling towards an orgasm and you can’t stop it.  You’re going to come on him, just like this, fully clothed but so wet that you can feel it gushing as he grinds his thigh against you. 

You grab onto his belt, feeling the curve of his bulge just below your palm.  It makes his breath stutter and it makes you surrender.  Your body seizes and your pussy throbs as you come, a strangled cry in your throat while rocking desperately against him.   

It settles slowly, the world coming back in increments.  You are breathing hard, clinging to each other, bodies still pressed so tightly together.  You can feel his heart beating hard and fast.  It keeps rhythm with the lingering thrum below. 

So much for conversation.  Grinding all over Felix in a semi-public space was not in the plan at all. 

“Oh my god,” you say, voice breaking as you are hit with realization.  You push at him and he goes obediently. 

“Fuck,” he says, rubbing his eyes and shaking his head.  He runs his hands through his hair, shakes out the length of it while breathing erratically. 

Your heart is still pounding.  You put your hand over your chest like that will calm it down. 

Felix looks at you.

You recognize this look. 

This look – this is the face you have been mistaking for disgust.  Now that you have seen him truly reviled, snarling at Changbin’s scent on your body, you realize it is not disgust, not at all.  It’s pain, a wincing, cringing desperation as he fights to keep everything inside him. 

It is barely contained right now, his chest still heaving, his fly still bulging, hands shaking at his sides as he stares at you with open need. 

“Oh my god,” you say again.  You lean against the door for support, closing your eyes to try and make sense of the world.  You see the events of the last month play out, the months before that, going back further and further until you shake your head to clear your mind.  “I just—”  You open your eyes, meet his anxious gaze.  “Just give me some time,” you say.  “I – I need to think – I’m so—”

“It’s okay,” he says, hands out to placate you, but careful not to touch you.  He forces himself to smile despite his own emotional tumult.  Sweat breaks out on his hairline.  “Take your time, I – I’m sorry, I didn’t come here to—I just wanted to talk—I—”

“I know,” you say.  “I know.” 

He nods sharply, clearing his throat as he turns awkwardly to the side.  He points vaguely behind him, stutters something like, “I’ll go, um, I’ll just—”

He turns on his heel and walks away, taking the corner to the stairwell so fast that you blink and he is gone. 

You can hear him bounding down the stairs.  You stand there, listening until he is too far to hear. 

With every limb shaking, you pick up your purse and finally fish out your keys.  You manage to turn the key in the lock and step inside before you crumple to your knees. 

This time your thoughts are a very different whirlwind, just as confused and just as emotional, but so conquered by sensation that you find yourself just sitting there, touching your lips, thinking of him.

There is a lot to think about.

-

You realize you have been wrong about so many things.  You and Felix should have spoken a long time ago.  You have both been skirting each other, tentatively regarding the other, worried you might hurt them.  It resulted in you both getting hurt anyway.   

You are so, so scared of making that hurt worse.  It makes you hesitate. 

A day goes by.  Felix respects your space.  On the second day, when you contemplate reaching out for a conversation – a real conversation – your phone buzzes. 

You are surprised to see that it is Bang Chan. 

Hey, he writes.  I need to talk to you right now.  It’s about Felix. 

Your heart-rate shoots through the roof, terror obliterating every other emotion.

Is he okay? you write.  What happened??

Look, I’m just gonna say it, Chan writes.  Felix is in rut.  You know what that is? 

Yes, you say. 

At first, you are relieved he is not hurt and it is something so mundane.  Then you are flustered as you recall the other night.  You remember the heat between you, the way you came on his body and the way he begged for it.   Even now, you are more aroused than embarrassed, shivering as you remember the way he looked at you. 

Right, Chan says.  Look I promise I’m not asking you to sleep with him or something.  I wouldn’t do that.  You have no responsibility for anything.   But you also gotta know that dumb kid is in love with you, right?  Like… insane in love.  Like… won’t let anyone else see him or help him even though he’s a new werewolf, hasn’t had that many ruts, and it hasn’t even been a whole month since the last one. 

You watch as each text appears, your adrenaline building with every word.  The phone shakes in your tight grip.

Didn’t someone help him with his last rut? You ask.  I saw her at his apartment.   

What??? Chan answers quickly.  No.  I sent her over to see if he needed anything, because he kept telling me to fuck off because I was telling him to call you.  I’m telling him again but he still won’t listen.  You know he thinks he’s a monster right? 

You are still reeling from the revelation that he and the girl were not an item at all, that they were truly just having a conversation.  He was flushed and sweaty because he was in rut, not because he spent all morning with her.  You were the one racing to conclusions, not even giving him a chance to explain.  You remember him stepping towards you, asking to speak, but you cut him off before he could.  You assumed he just wanted to reject you. 

Chan says Felix is in love you.  Is it possible that after a conversation with another wolf, he was gathering the courage to tell you, only for you to say you never wanted to see him again? 

Now you read the last message and your heart sinks, a painfully heavy weight in your gut.     

A monster? you write.  What do you mean? 

That doesn’t even make sense.  Felix is the kindest, most loving man you know.  Assuming werewolves are monstrous is such a medieval thought that it never occurred to you for a second that he would feel that way. 

Yeah, Chan says.  Look, he never told me the details because he said it wasn’t his story to tell, but he told me that you went through something really hard and that was why he didn’t want to stress you out with the werewolf thing. It can be pretty intense, especially at the start, and especially when you’re already an adult.  He spent his whole life thinking he was one thing only for everything to change really quickly.  He was really scared of coming on too strong and losing you because of it.   

You made his worst fears come true, you realize, numb as you stare at the screen. 

You know Felix, Chan writes, He’d rather just suffer alone than have someone else feel it too.  I told him to trust you more, that you would want to help, but there’s no getting through to him when he’s like that.  I love the guy but he can be kinda stubborn.

You both have a stubborn streak.  The last month of drama attests to that. 

What do you want me to do?  you ask.  You have more answers but you feel just as lost as before, maybe even more. 

Can you just talk to him please?  Chan says.  He holed himself up in his apartment and he won’t let anyone in.  He stopped answering my messages too.  Ruts are a Molotov cocktail of hormones.  They’re intense even if you’re experienced and he isn’t.  I just don’t want him to get hurt and not do anything about it because he doesn’t want to bother anyone. 

You remember Felix in that corridor, arms hanging limp at his sides, looking at you with so much hurt and sorrow.  Despite that, he didn’t pressure you to stay.  He listened.  He let you go because he thought you wanted that.  He stood by himself in that corridor, crying over a box of his things that he thought had a home with you. 

Tears blur your vision.  You have to rub your eyes before answering Chan. 

I’ll go to him, you write.  I don’t want him hurt either.

I know you don’t, Chan says.  You have a spare key to his place?

Yes.

Good, Chan says.  He’s not answering his door so you’re gonna need it.  Give the guy a smack for me, hey? 

His joke makes you laugh, though it is strained. You give yourself a second to compose yourself then you are on your feet.  You are in a loose house dress and tights, face bare and hair undone, but you do not waste another second.  You know you can be yourself around Felix no matter what.  You wish he understood the feeling was reciprocated.

This time, instead of running away, you run to him.  This time, you will make him understand. 

-

The two city blocks pass in a blur.  You have never moved so fast in all your life, bumping into slow stragglers as you barrel down the street. 

By the time you step off the elevator on his floor, you are warm and out of breath.  You wipe a little perspiration off your forehead as you approach. 

You were so frantic in your determination to arrive, there was no time for nerves to materialize.  They strike all at once, twisting anxiously as you knock.   You wait a minute but he doesn’t answer, just like Chan predicted.

You take a steadying breath and put the key in the lock.  Hand over your heart, you push open the door and step into the apartment.   

It does not look any different from the last time you were here.  Even your slippers are still by the door.  You disregard them now, stepping out of your shoes and venturing forward with a nervous little patter. 

If you were a werewolf, maybe you would have scented a change in the air, but it smells and feels familiar.  The apartment is very still, maybe a little warmer than usual, sunlight streaming through the windows. 

You finally hear a sound.  You leave the small foyer and make a very clumsy entrance into the room. 

You can hardly blame yourself for stumbling.  Felix is sitting on the couch in nothing but a pair of jeans.  It looks like the same blue jeans from the other night.  Yes, in fact, you are sure they are because you can see the faintest streak on his thigh.  You were embarrassed to find you were so wet that it came through your panties and skirt.  You wondered if it got on him. 

You certainly have an answer now.  

Felix is touching himself.  He is slouched back on the couch, his bare chest damp with sweat, his knees spread apart.  His jeans are pulled open and it looks roughly torn, the zipper snapped off the fly.  His hand is wrapped around his cock.  One of your t-shirts is clutched tightly in the other hand.  He is holding it against his face, covering his eyes, mouth, and nose.  He is clearly chasing the scent, knuckles whitening with how tightly he grips it.     

His abdomen clenches as he approaches a climax.  You watch as he quickly wraps the t-shirt around his cock, fucking the material.  His eyes are closed, head thrown back. 

You snap to the realization that he has no idea you’re here, so overwhelmed with your scent from the shirt.

You quickly cover your eyes with both hands and yelp his name. 

His reply is a startled yelp as well.  You peek at him through your fingers, watching as he frantically stuffs the t-shirt between the couch cushions.  He tries to stand at the same time, fighting to close his pants over an uncooperative erection that does not seem to be going down. 

“Fuck, sorry, I – hold on, fuck – I can explain—” he stammers. 

“Um, me too,” you say.    

He can’t get his pants closed but he gets himself tucked back inside.  He keeps a grip on the fly with one hand, the other running through his long hair. 

Then he is standing there, flushed and out of breath.  You slowly lower your fingers from your face. 

There is a moment of silence, both of you startled.  After a bit of staring, he cracks a nervous smile.  You tentatively return it. 

His brow smooths out, his dimple poking into his cheek.  He chuckles first, then you laugh, then you are laughing together.  It feels good, letting out all the ridiculous tension. 

“Why, uhh, why are you here?” he finally asks. 

“Um, Chan texted,” you say. 

“Oh, for the love of—”  He cuts off his own tirade, shaking his head and exhaling heavily. 

You twist your hands together, fingers budging in a nervous fidget. 

“Um, he told me… he told me…”  You forget your precise words because Felix meets your eyes, holding your gaze in his.  You lose yourself in the depth of his dark eyes.  You think your heart is beating loud enough to hear.  

You look away, overwhelmed by the intensity of his stare.  Your eyes stray to the couch, to your t-shirt poking out between the cushions.  You are startled by a jolt between your legs, like a lightning bolt of arousal, the previous scene suddenly resonating with clarity. 

“I—”  You almost choke on your words, so much nervousness, so much fear, so much need in your voice.  You meet his searching eyes, stepping forward as if compelled by them.  “I thought my scent disgusted you.” 

He blinks back at you, your words taking a moment to settle.  Then he furrows his brow and tilts his head.  A bit of hair falls forward and he tucks it back. 

“Uhhhh, what?” he asks.  “Dis—disgusted me?  You thought—”  He looks back at the couch too.  He is very flushed, his rut no doubt keeping him suspended on a perpetual edge, and his ears darken with a richer tinge of red.  “Um.  No.”  He laughs at the ridiculousness, looking at you with wide, blinking eyes.  “I, uh, I definitely don’t – I think you – I mean—”

“Um, yes,” you say, clasping your hands together again.  You rock a little on the balls of your feet.  “Yes.  I can see that, um, I think you’re not disgusted.”

“No,” it comes out on a breath.  His eyes drop from your face down your body.  You look so simple, but he looks at you like no one has ever been more beautiful.   “No, I’m not disgusted.  Why did you think that?”

“You, um, you make faces sometimes,” you say.  It sounds so petty and silly to say out loud, but it’s time to get it all out there.  “And you’ve been so distant, Felix.  I thought that maybe, now that you’re a werewolf, you didn’t want anything more to do with me.” 

His face scrunches up with bewilderment. 

“Nothing – nothing to do with you?” he asks, voice breaking where it pitches up.  It would usually make you laugh, but now is not the time as you stare back, all your insecurities and vulnerabilities on display.  He does not laugh at them either, taking a small step towards you with a tender look on his face.  “I could never feel that way,” he says.  “You’re my whole world. I – I’ve told you that.  You’re my – you’re my person.”

“Chan said you felt like a monster,” you say softly.  “I wish you would have told me how you felt.  I could have told you that you aren’t a monster, not at all.   You’re my person too, you know.” 

He exhales, shoulders deflating.  He rubs the bridge of his nose, thinking of something to say.  Eventually he shakes his head and drops his hand. 

“I didn’t want to be a burden,” he says.  “You’ve been through so much.  I couldn’t – I couldn’t ask you to take care of me too.”

“Felix,” you say, throat cloying with emotion.  You take a step closer as well.  “Felix, you’re not a burden.  I wanted so badly to take care of you.  I – I love you.”

The word love resonates like thunder.  It pierces the air, leaves a ringing aftermath. 

“You – you love me,” Felix says, like the words are incomprehensible.  “As a – as a friend – or?”  He tries to look disinterested but completely fails, staring at you with all that intensity again. 

You combat the instinct to make yourself small, to hide your vulnerabilities, to retreat into denial and just smile prettily.  You hold his gaze.  When you smile, it is honest and affectionate. 

“I love you, Felix,” you say.  “As more than a friend.  As everything.” 

“Oh,” he says.  His hand goes back into his hair, untucking it from behind his ear just to tuck it back again.  His eyes dart everywhere like he is replaying the scene and scanning it for answers.  He blinks at you.  “Oh.” 

“Yeah,” you say, with a small laugh. 

“But you – you never wanted to see me again,” he says, then lifts his brows, expression all at once understanding.  “Because you thought I didn’t want you.  Oh my god.  I’m such an idiot.”

“I’m not the brightest either,” you tease.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, closing the distance yet again with another step.  He forgets the state of his clothes and lets go of his pants, too wrapped up in his words to notice the startled drop of your eyes.  Not much is exposed, just the shape of his hips and a stubborn bulge, but it still leaves you sweating. 

“Look,” he says.  “I – I can’t just say I love you.”  Before your heart can sink, he continues frantically, “Because it’s not enough.  I do, I do love you.  The werewolf gene activated for you.  The doctors asked if I had been in any dangerous situations that might have triggered it and I said no.  They – they said it sometimes activates in peril, when you feel the need to protect yourself.  That’s what happened to me.  Except it wasn’t because I wanted to protect myself.  I wanted to protect you.”

“Me?” you say in a small voice, like you can hardly believe it.

“Yes,” he says, smiling, both hands moving as he talks.  “I felt so helpless, watching the way you were hurting.  I wanted to protect you.  I never wanted to see you suffering again.  I tried to be calm around you but pushing it down just made the feeling more desperate.  My wolf, it’s like my heart.  It’s just an animal, you know?  And it only understands loyalty and love.  And the first time I changed, I didn’t think like a person, no, but I thought of you all the same.  They could barely keep me contained in that hospital.  I just wanted to run to you. I wanted to protect you.  I wanted to keep you safe. Staying away from you… it’s been killing me.”

“Me too,” you say, so filled to brim with emotion you think you might burst.  “Oh, Felix, me too.” 

A laugh spills out of him, more of a release than humour.  You take another step towards each other, this time close enough to clasp hands between you. 

“I wish you would have told me,” you say.  “But it’s my fault too.  I know I’m still recovering in some ways.  I’m quick to think little of myself.  But I shouldn’t put you in the role of the mean voices in my head.  I’m sorry too.  So, so sorry.” 

“How could you think I’d ever be disgusted with you?” he asks in a low voice. 

When he cups your cheek, a shiver moves down your spine.  You straighten, leaning into his touch, looking at him with wanting eyes.  He swallows hard, staring back. 

“It was silly,” you say.  “I even thought you were seeing someone else.  That werewolf lady in your pack.  I thought maybe you wanted a werewolf mate and I wouldn’t be enough.” 

“That’s crazy,” he says.  “You’re my everything.” 

“And you’re mine,” you say.  

You touch his arm, just the lightest caress of your fingertips.  His skin is so hot it makes you gasp.  Your cool fingers must be a balm because his eyes close and a little sigh parts his lips. 

“Uh,” he breathes, eyes still closed.  “Sorry for what you, uh, saw, coming in—  I promise I don’t usually – ruts are just—”

You step a little closer.  You can feel his breath on your cheek when he breathes in and out. 

His hands drop to his sides as you lean in and kiss his neck.  It is just a chaste touch but it makes his eyes fly open.  He looks at you and you swear his eyes have never been so dark.   

“You want me,” he says.  When you nod, he releases another deep breath, a massive exhale of relief.  “Ruts are… intense,” he says. 

“Mm,” is your gentle reply.  Your eyes run down his bare skin, fingers itching to touch.  You meet his gaze.  “But it’s you, right?” 

Some romances depict ruts as an out of control haze.  Though Felix is certainly more intense, it is your best friend’s familiar eyes locked on yours.  You realize it actually makes him the vulnerable one, all his desires so blatant, his needs on the surface, unable to hide them for a second.  You understand why he held back, especially while you were in recovery.   There is so much of him. 

But that is what you love.  You can never have enough. 

“Yes,” he says.

His deep voice is so rough that it makes you whimper.  His hand jumps at the sound, settles on the back of your neck like it did yesterday.  Anticipation tingles from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes, every inch of your body aware of him, desperate for him. 

“Yes,” he says again, staring at your mouth.  “Yes, it’s me.” 

Your breath catches when he squeezes your nape.  In the back of your mind, you recall all those little courtship rituals of werewolves, the instincts that manifest between them and their mate.  A gentle squeeze of the nape is a request for your submission, for you to put your trust in his strength and his affection.  

You do, utterly.  You rest your hands on his waist, your cool palms against his hot skin, making his eyes flash with hunger. 

“What are you waiting for?” you ask, his mouth so close, kissing a tantalizing promise.  

He smiles that real smile, eyes crinkling sweetly, sunshine radiating with all that heat. 

“I told you, ruts can be intense,” he says.  “I’m waiting for your permission to let me have my way with you.”

“You have it,” you say.  Your eyes drop to his chest and you run your hand from his collarbone all the way down to his abdomen, watching the muscles tense under the caress of your fingers. 

You smile at him, swiping at his hot skin with your fingertips as you step back.  He lets you go, hands dropping to his sides.  He moves when you do, like his whole body is tethered to yours, magnetized to your core.  Each step you take, he follows with a fixated prowl. 

“Do whatever you want with me,” you say, peeling down a strap of your dress.  “I’m yours.” 

His steps gain speed, his smile brightening.  In a matter of seconds, he is chasing you into his bedroom, laughing behind your trail of giggles as you scamper ahead of him. 

He catches you around the waist inside the bedroom, pulling your backside into his front.   The straps of your dress are both lowered and you hold it to your chest with your hand, heart pounding from excitement and the little chase. 

You make a sweet sound when his nose swipes your neck.  You tip your head, offering more skin.  It is a good thing his grip is so strong, because you tremble when he exhales, breath caressing your skin.  He gathers your dress in his hands, plucking the fabric out of your grip.  He pushes it down your body and it puddles on the floor. 

“Felix,” you say on a sigh when he kisses the back of your neck while working his fingers under your bra.  You help remove it, dropping it onto the floor.  You rock back against him when he touches you.  He uses both hands to cup your breasts and squeeze. 

“Can’t believe you thought I was disgusted,” he says.  “Like I didn’t spend my whole last rut in here thinking about you.” 

“Y-you did?” you ask, with a little whimper, because his open jeans are not doing much to shield him and you can feel how hard he is against you.  

“Yes,” he says, a hand coming up to circle your throat, gripping it possessively as he puts his teeth in your neck.  It makes you jump in his arms, body shaking. 

He holds you tight against him, the denim of his pants rough through the thin fabric of your tights. 

“I’m sorry for all that,” you rasp.  “I must have made it so hard for you.”

“Mm,” he says, grinning against your neck.  “You made it very hard.”

“Pfft.”  You slap a hand over your mouth when laughing.  “That was a terrible joke.”

“Mm. True though.” 

You squeak when he nudges you forward, so close to the bed that you stumble right onto it.   He climbs up behind you, grabbing your hips and flipping you onto your back. 

“At first, I was just sad,” he says. 

He leans back to grab something off his bedside table.  You admire the length of his body as he does, the low-slung jeans, the sheen of sweat across his chest, and his subtle, slender musculature.  

You meet his gaze when he comes back.  He is kneeling over you, a cocky grin on his face.  He gathers his hair and ties it with the band he just grabbed. 

“Then I really thought about it,” he says.  “Mm, yeah, thought about hunting you down.”  He straddles your thigh, his hands planting on either side of your head.  “I’d find you and I’d remind where you belong.”  He leans down, kissing along your jaw.  “With me.  Under me.  Moaning my name.  Forgetting about everything else.” 

“Did you—”  You start but gasp, his mouth on your throat, biting, sucking, licking.  You arch your back, leaning into his mouth as he works his way down your body.  “Did you… like with my shirt… when I saw you before…”

“What?  Did I get off to your scent?” he asks.  “Yes.”  His hand follows his mouth, fingers curling into the band of your tights.  “I told myself I shouldn’t.  The last few ruts I managed.  It wasn’t fun, mostly too hot, but I got by.  But – you weren’t coming back, were you?  You left so many pretty things here that made me think of you…”

He abruptly kneels upright.  He uses both hands to grab the waistband of your tights. 

“Found one of your cardigans,” he says.  “Soft, like you.  Put it on my pillow and fucked my hand like I wanted to fuck you.” 

He rips your tights open with little effort, tearing right down to the thigh. 

“Put it on my face,” he says.  “Tasted it.  Like I wanted to taste you.” 

You moan for him, threading your fingers through his hair as he gets between your legs and opens his mouth on your pussy.  He licks right through the material of your panties, like he doesn’t care at all, tormenting you with the obstruction until it is soaked through.   You say his name over and over, your thighs already shaking just from warming up. 

“Mmm.”  He pushes himself up again, his mouth wet, tongue sweeping over his lips.  He grabs your panties by the waistband and tugs them down. 

By now, his jeans have slid down his hips.  He is so hard, beading at the tip, as wet for you as you are for him.  You watch as he uses your panties to quickly jerk his cock, gathering the wetness at the tip, then tossing them over his shoulder. 

He falls back on top of you, face between your legs, licking you with nothing in his way. 

“Wanted to find you,” he says between teasing kitten licks, looking up at you, smirking with the flick of his tongue.  “Wanted to make you come so hard – mm, fuck you so good…”  He slips two fingers inside you.  Even though it has been some time, they move with no hindrance, your pussy so wet that he sinks right in. 

“Yeah,” he says, momentarily going cross-eyed with his face so close to your pussy, watching his fingers move in and out of you.  He grins when you clench around him.  “Show you we were meant to be,” he says.  “Just like this.”  He licks you again, fingers moving so quickly that it sounds as obscenely wet as it feels.  “Wolf or not.  Knew you were mine.  Was gonna make sure you know too.” 

“Ohh,” you say, tugging at the blankets beneath you.  “Who are you and what have you done with my sunshine Felix?” 

He laughs, a low chuckle, the vibrations moving in your pussy.

“Mm, I’m right here, sweetheart,” he says.  “Right… here…” 

Then his mouth is occupied, little licks replaced with broad strokes of his tongue, then a repeating pattern that has you swelling and gushing on his tongue.  You come so hard that it makes you dizzy, head thrown back as you squirt all over his thrusting fingers. 

“That’s it,” he says, kissing your wet thighs. 

While you are recovering, he grabs you and moves you.  He arranges you neatly in the middle of the bed, making sure you are comfortable.  Then he lets down his hair and removes his jeans.

“Felix,” you say, though it is generous to describe your voice as anything but a needy whimper.   

He runs his hands up and down your trembling thighs, coaxing you open with murmurs of sweet nothings.   You let him in, stringing your arms around his neck as he fits his hips between your legs and leans over you.   You feel the head of his cock against your pussy, still throbbing with aftershocks.  You are clenching around nothing, needing him, so ready you could scream. 

You don’t scream, but sigh, like you are relieved when he gets inside you, like this is what you have been missing all along.

He takes his time despite the fever of his rut.  Maybe because of it.  His senses are so heightened, the pleasure felt so strongly.  He groans, eyes closed, putting his face in your neck and breathing deeply as he slowly rocks into you. 

“What were you thinking,” he murmurs, lips moving on your throat, “Trying to run away from me?” 

“I’m – I’m sorry,” you say, interrupted with a hiccupping little uh-uh when he rolls his hips and you feel him deeper, harder, faster. 

“You thought I wanted someone else?” he asks.  “Impossible.” 

Your eyes are closed, head thrown back.  He grabs your chin and pulls your face to him, says, “Look at me.  Right now.” 

You do, blinking your eyes open.  His thumb rubs your bottom lip and you open your mouth.  You don’t even need to think, instantly accepting the intrusion of the digit, sucking on it while holding his gaze. 

It would have terrified you a year ago, with anyone else, losing yourself to instinct like that, opening yourself up so willingly.  With Felix, it feels right, it feels good. 

“It’s you and me,” he says.  “You understand that?”

You nod, humming affirmatively around his thumb.  It rubs over your tongue, opens your mouth a little more.   You want to close your eyes with every rolling thrust into you, but he tugs your face back to him when you try. 

“You’re my mate,” he says.  “Just you.  It’s always – always been you.”  He groans on the second always, picking up some speed, making you whine against his fingers.  

He is so hot, clearly in the grips of his rut fever, but you cling to him, accepting everything he has to offer. 

 “Gonna be mine,” he says.  “That’s right, yeah?”  You nod frantically.  “Yeah.  Gonna put a ring on your finger.  You’re gonna be so good to me, aren’t you?  Gonna let me take care of you.  Gonna be my mate.  Gonna have my children.  You and me.  Home.  Oh, yes, sweetheart, that’s it—”

You clench so tightly at the mention of children.  It catches you off guard, your body’s visceral and immediate response, faster than your brain compute can why.  You have told Felix you want children one day, in the future, back when you were just friends and it was an abstract thought.  Thinking of a home with him, having his children, making a whole life together, being bound so completely …

“Fuck,” you say, his thumb sliding out of your mouth.  He cups your face to keep it locked on him, your lips brushing each other. 

“Look at me,” he whispers. 

You do, though you are so close that you barely see him.  It feels like he is everywhere, everything, around you and inside you.  You melt when he kisses you, stealing your breath as he claims you so completely.  You kiss back, messy and haphazard, all heat and wetness, but it feels good.    

“C-can’t get pregnant,” you say with a pout, a bit delirious from getting fucked, letting the words roll thoughtlessly off your tongue.  “B-birth control.”

“I know,” he says.  He moves a little, gets up so he can hold your hips and pull you onto his cock with every thrust.  “I’m stronger,” he says, just as deliriously, watching where his cock moves inside you.  “Yeah.  Gonna fill you up so much, it’ll happen anyway.  It can’t stop me.” 

He holds your hips, keeps you in place.  He thrusts into you deeply and says, “You’re mine,” and thrusts again, “You’re mine,” and thrusts again, “You’re mine,” and comes inside you. 

It is not quite like all the werewolf pornography, with exaggerated knots on preposterously sized cocks, but werewolf physiology is still a little different than human.  That difference is exacerbated on a rut.  You feel it as he comes, the way he swells and gets harder, just enough that you feel your fullest as he releases.  Pushing at you walls, stretching you around him, making you his without question. 

He doesn’t really soften after, the rut sustaining him, but the swelling goes down.  Even then, not entirely, as you feel a sharper burn when he pulls out of you.  The flicker of pain is oddly tantalizing, a biting sensation on top of so many others.  It ripples through you, makes you moan. 

Your whole body is twitching, eyes closed as you come back to yourself. 

You look up at Felix.  His eyes are between your legs, his hand running up your thigh.  You feel his thumb spread your pussy open, feel his release spilling out of you.  That is the other different element; with a werewolf, there is a lot more of everything.  

Though you know your birth control will function regardless, when you feel all that inside you… for a moment, you believe he might be strong enough to overpower it. 

It makes you giddy, pleasure moving through your body.  He smiles at you, all sunshine and sweetness.   Then he takes control of your hips and puts himself back inside you.  The refractory period on a rut is virtually nonexistent on the peak day, which is usually the second day, which is today. 

“You okay?” he asks, rocking into you slowly even though he fits so easily now, your body made to take him. 

You nod, sliding your hands over his shoulders.  You scratch across his back then up in his hair, making him grunt and close his eyes.  He leans down and kisses you, continuing to fuck you until you are making all those sweet sounds again. 

“Good?” he asks, kissing your jaw, your neck. 

“Good,” you say. 

“Not too much?” he checks. 

“Mm, no,” you say.  You give him a teasing smile.  “Not enough actually.”

“Oh, really?”  He laughs, eyes big with playful incredulity.  “Should I growl and bite more?”  He makes a playful snarl like the werewolves in all the erotica. 

It makes you laugh.  You can’t remember the last time you laughed while having sex, but it feels so good, just as good as all the hot, desperate stuff.    

“Hmm, maybe not,” he says, laughing too.  “Maybe all the making-a-bitch stuff is a bit much, hm?” 

It seems you will learn more about yourself than him over this rut, because that also makes you clench involuntarily.  He blinks with surprise, mouth in a soft ‘o’ as he looks down at you.  He laughs just a little at the look on your face, a low chuckle as his grin widens. 

You cover your mouth, blinking innocently up at him. 

“Oh shit,” he says.  “I see.” 

You pout when he pulls out of you, but there is little time to feel bereft because he flips you over onto your front.  Your face lands in the pillows, then he yanks you down the bed.  

Oh, it feels filthy suddenly, because the new angle opens you up and you can feel come dripping out of you.  It catches his eye too, because he puts his fingers there and stuffs it back inside you.  

With little effort, he gets you back under him, pushes down your shoulders and lifts up your hips.  You feel him at your entrance again, pushing the tip past the rim. 

“Is that it?” he asks, dropping his voice so low yet sounding so sweet.  “You want me to make you my bitch, baby?” 

He slams home, holding your hips up while pounding into you with relentless measure.   You grab a pillow to hold, yelping and whining into it as he fucks you with wild abandon.  

For a few seconds, you succumb to that single-minded animalistic pursuit, and you really do believe he can put a baby in you.  You start babbling the desire – begging for it, asking him to fill you up. 

“Please, please, please,” you say, gasping. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he says, draping himself over your back, not stopping his hips for a second.  “I got you.  I’ll give you a baby.  So good for me.  Made to take it from me, yeah, baby?” 

 You know you are going to come again, his angle and precision too much to withstand.  Sure enough, you are coming all over his cock in a matter of seconds, squeezing him into another orgasm too. 

He kneels behind you, throws his head back while coming.  Then he grinds inside you like he is trying to get it as deep as possible. 

“Oh, Felix,” you say, whimpering when he pulls out, still hard, the burn less this time because you are so filthy wet that he slides so easily.   You can feel his release gush out of you, his fingers chasing it, pushing back into you. 

He rubs at you until you are rocking your hips and coming on his fingers.  It is so much stimulation that your eyes water and your nose starts to sniffle. 

He rolls you over and cups your face.  You open your mouth instinctively, tilting your head to expose your neck.    He looks at you like he can’t really believe you are exist and that you are here. 

“Wow,” he says.  The hand on your face slides so he can put his thumb back in your mouth, letting you suck on it like it is giving you life.  He clenches his jaw, makes a rough sound, presses down on your needy tongue.  “Next time,” he says, while starting to put his cock back into you, “Your mouth.  And my mouth.  You’re gonna sit on my face for hours.  I’m gonna take care of you.  Oh—”

He is halfway inside you when you reach up, putting your hands on his chest.  He stops immediately, pulling out, taking back his hands, looking at you with a concerned tilt to his head. 

“Will you lay on your back?” you ask, voice hoarse. 

He blinks, like for a second he doesn’t understand words, but then he obeys.  His hair is in absolute disarray, a veritable lion’s mane.  He rakes it back, smooths it down as best he can.  He never takes his eyes off you, watching as you sit up, as you climb on top of him, as you put him back inside you and set a slower pace. 

“My turn,” you say, smiling.  “I want to take care of you too.” 

He smiles, putting his hands on your hips but not guiding them.   He lets you take the lead, moving on top of him, finding all the ways to make him moan and close his eyes and twitch inside you.   

You make him come twice that way.  After the second time, he finally starts to soften enough that you can take a break. 

You lay down beside him, squeaking with surprise when you press down on your belly and a little more come gushes out of you.  You look at each other, his face the picture of total innocence despite his hand in it.  You swat his chest, rolling onto your side and putting your head on his chest. 

He laughs, putting his arm around you, stroking your back. 

“You know I do mean it,” he says, looking down at you.  “I want everything with you.” 

“Me too,” you say.  You kiss his chest, then his neck, under his jaw, making him sigh contently.  “I love you, Felix.  Everything about you, wolf and all.” 

“I love you too,” he says, pressing you close, kissing your forehead. 

There is a long moment of content silence.  He strokes your back, up and down, lulling you to a dozy state.  It is too early to sleep and, besides, the sheets need changing before that – even though you suspect they will just be dirtied again. 

You are contemplating these sweet mundane nothings when he says, “You’re in the pack, you know.  As my mate.  That makes you one of us.” 

“Does it?” you ask. 

“Yes,” he says.  “I’m telling you this, because you’re a packmate and Chan is leader, but you’re my mate, so you have to take my side and tell him to fuck off when he tries to say I told you so.” 

You laugh, shaking your head and playfully rolling your eyes. 

“Sounds good,” you say.  “Hmm, I might go have a shower before… the next… round…” 

You do not have to look down to know that he is hard already, his blinking gaze revealing all.  You giggle together and kiss again. 

“All right, fair enough,” you say, eyes closed, exposing your neck obediently when he cups your nape.  You press against him, moaning softly when he scents your neck then sucks a bruising kiss there.  “It can wait,” you say, smiling.  “We’ve been waiting for this long enough.” 

“Mm,” he says, already slipping back into his feverish need.  He grabs you and pulls you back on top of him. 

There is not much talking for a while, but there is some laughter and plenty of smiles, and for the first time in a long time, you are looking forward to everything that follows after.   

[sugudoe]

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ ✎ ° 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐈 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑 ! ࣪₊ 𐙚

✶ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: being a kindergarten teacher is something you excel at, you even have two students you treat as if they were your own. not that they mind your endless devotion, much less do their dad, 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨, if you could spare some attention to him as well.

✶ 𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: papamin!!!!!!! honestly i love papamin so much, i wish i could make that man a daddy. while on the topic, nanami is girl dad code, but for the plot he is sukuna’s and yuuji’s dad. also i loved writing sukuna as a baby, he is such a menace, he definitely was that kid who bite everyone. just posting this because i can’t wait till i post the series i’m making, i had to do something before. divider by: @cafekitsune

✶ 𝐬𝐲𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬: pure fluff / ooc!sukuna / reader has no gender / no curse!au / modern!au / mention of death and grief (minor character)

✶ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.7k

Yuuji thinks you are his princess, and you let him play with the wood horses and gallops around your desk, sometimes you even play pretend with him, accepting the roses he plucks from the school’s garden and sharing your sandwiches with him. He loves you very dearly, it’s not a secret he keeps that you are his favorite teacher, but it is yours that he is one of your favorites as well.

Now Sukuna, his twin brother, is a whole story. The two and a half years old siblings can be perceived as the perfect opposites, because Yuuji is adorable and expressive in good ways, and Sukuna tries to bite your ankles whenever you move near him sitting on the floor. His sharp teeth are always on showcase by his little smirk, he is a menace.

You know Sukuna might sometimes dislike you, not because you have done him terrible wrong, au contrarie, you have been a good teacher, a good human! He tries to grab your hair with his tiny fists and you put him in your lap quickly, staring at him with a cute smile, he thinks you are encouraging him to leave you bald but he ends up not caring anymore, and decides to snuggle against you and sleep. Only to wake up later with a bite on your wrist.

It’s love for your profession and for the children that you don’t report any of this to the superiors or his parent, you think hopefully that you can change his ways, make him better. It does work, credits be given, he used to be worse! He used to bite the other students, now his teeth are all over your and, unfortunately, his twin.

It’s something you try your best to control, gods be good, Yuuji only whines before slapping his brother’s head, and then Sukuna cries and comes to you. You open your arms and again, he is biting you.

“Ow, Kuna!” You move his head away from your skin. “What do you eat to have such sharp teeth, hm?”

He doesn’t answer you, his big eyes are filled with tears and he is wiggling towards any skin of yours to sink his canines.

“C’mere.” You grab him and adjust the baby in your hips, before moving towards the box filled with toys and grabbing a plastic one, you take it to the class bathroom and wash it, while Sukuna sits on the balcony, staring at you with his sad puppy eyes. “You are so cute, y’know that, right?” He nods, which takes you by surprise. “You can not keep biting me anymore, Sukuna, you get this?”

As expected, Sukuna doesn’t answer this time. He only gets what he wants.

“But let’s make a deal, you don’t bite me or Yuuji, you bite this whenever you feel like it, hm?”

Sukuna is not supposed to be with pacifiers anymore, something requested by his parent and passed to you through your boss. So it’s a little secret to let him have the blue whale in his mouth, he bites the thing so deeply that by the end of the week, you have to change it for a red rubber duck.

It’s keeps going like this for a couple more days until you notice the progress being made, Sukuna always has the toy by his gripping hands or in his pockets, and whenever he falls to the ground or gets pushed by a classmate, his little eyebrows crunch into an angry face. You think he is going to jump the kid or run at you and be a little vampire, but instead he grabs his toy and starts to violently munch on it.

It’s adorable, it makes you want to eat him.

But you noticed, obviously you did, how Sukuna has anger issues, and being a baby he has no idea how to control the anger but to externalize it with violence, and you gave him a escape plan. Now, he isn’t so angry anymore, sometimes he just squeezes the little toy, he also doesn’t spend his time with only you or his brother, he makes some new friends such as little Uraume, who follows Sukuna around and both keep sharing their lunches.

You do find one more problem arising, anytime Ijichi, who you learn is their butler, comes to pick the boys, Sukuna cries desperate for having to return his toy. You tried to let him have but the man refuses and your superior reprimanded you once, after catching you trying to give it. The next day, you notice quickly that Yuuji and Sukuna both have little red teeth marks on their arms.

You sigh desperate.

After class is over, few days later, Ijichi is late for the pickup, so you sat both Sukuna (sucking his little toy) and Yuuji (talking your ear off) down. They stop what both were doing and stare at you, one with pure sparkling eyes and the other with a raising eyebrow. You laugh at that.

“My darling cherubs, we need to talk.” You sit on the floor. “Kuna, you are not allowed to keep biting your brother, you know that. And you can’t bite him as well, Yuuji. You have to go to your papa, okay?”

The little one nods at you.

“Sukuna, honey, you can’t bring the duck home, we tried. But you can find another one to bite, hm?” He doesn’t answer, of course, he is two years he is not going on a quest for a rubber toy. “I’ll talk to Ijichi-san, for you, okay buddy?”

It takes you by surprise when Sukuna gets up and moves to sit on your lap, snuggling his face to your chest. When your arms go to close, Yuuji follows his twin and sits on you as well.

“Thank you, sensei.” Kuna’s little voice melts your heart even more, you hug them back instantly.

“I’ll do anything for the both of you.”

You don’t notice the presence behind you, or the fact that it’s been there since you sat down, and payed attention to everything you said, but mostly by how Sukuna went for you instantly and thanked you. The little bundle of angriness has his eyes closed, but his brother stares behind your shoulder and gasp, wiggling out of your touch and running towards the door.

“PAPA!” Yuuji screams making your heart jump. You turn back, staring at the scene. A tall blonde man, with formal clothes, kneels to the floor before opening his arms and grabbing Yuuji on his arms, kissing the pink hair of his baby.

You have heard the gossips towards the twins’s father, how exceptionally good looking he is, most charming and polite man anyone has ever seen or meet. And that he is single.

Of course, because of Ijichi being the one to bring and get the boys and the first teacher-parents’s meeting of the year being in just a few weeks, you haven’t met the man yet, but he here is, Nanami Kento, in all his glory.

You get up with Sukuna at the same time Nanami get up with Yuuji, and you notice right away that in his other hand he holds a bouquet of purple tulips.

“Look, Kuna, your papa is here.” You bounce the sleepy head on your lap, he opens his eyes before smiling a bit, and closing it again. “I think he got pretty tired after the playground today.” You laugh quietly before staring at the man, his eyes on his baby, a small smile on his face as well.

“Pleasure to meet you, Y/n-sensei.” It’s the first thing he says to you, his voice shaking your smile for a bit. “I’m sorry about being so late, the driver got busy with some stuff, so I had to come. I got you this, for the inconvenience.” He presents you the flowers, in your mind, he was going on a date, never in millions thoughts you would expect this.

“Oh, oh! Thank you, they are beautiful.” With your spare hand, you grab the flowers and smell them, smiling sweetly.

“I told papa you like those, sensei.” Yuuji says, with his eyes closed and large smile.

“Thank you, Yuuji, my charming knight.” You put the flowers on your desk before giving a pat to his head. “And thank you again, Mr. Nanami.”

“Again, I’m very sorry. But now, I think it’s time we go, right boys? Your sensei deserves to rest after the two of you.” Nanami grabs Sukuna from your arms, the boy open his eyes again for a second before falling into slumber. You help the male grabbing the twins backpacks and both of you move towards the parking lot.

When Nanami puts the babies in their seats, he turns to you grabbing the bags.

“Thank you for being their teacher, is not an easy job, but they both really like you.”

“It’s my pleasure, really. Sukuna and Yuuji make this job really worth it.” You answer sincerely, the door to the car is closed and the boys can’t hear you.

“I heard what you said to them, about the bites. I’ll get the toys for Sukuna, thank you for caring for him.“ Before Nanami gets into his car, he stops and turns back at you. “Would you need a ride? After all we did kept you here for longer than anticipated.”

You stare at the sky, dark clouds already reaching the sunset orange and pink, even the moon hangs more brightly than ever. You are inclined to accept, but you hold yourself.

“I would, any other day, but there is so much I have to do in the classroom and to grade the kid’s exercises, but thank you for the offer, Mr. Nanami.” You both exchange a smile before you wave at the awake Yuuji, staring at you by the window.

The next day and the others after, surprising everyone, Nanami is the one picking his sons up. His back is always tainted with the sunset from the corridor’s widows whenever he stays at the door, and a dozens of mothers and staff keep staring at him, searching for any opening to create a conversation. You are putting Yuuji’s bear beanie on, when you hear your boss asking Nanami for coffee with the excuse of talking about the boys, you laugh silently before grabbing the twins’s hands and moving towards their dad, giving an scape for him to move away from the woman.

“No need for the coffee ‘date’, the parents reunion with the teachers is this saturday, we all can talk there.” You say a bit loud, enough to send the message across, and all those people ready to jump at the blonde male move away.

“Thank you.” He whispers before grabbing the boys in his arms. “No ride today?”

Every once in a while, after the first time meeting Nanami, he has been asking you if you need a ride, and with a strength you don’t know where came from, you refuse nicely. It’s not that you don’t want, would be stupid to, it’s more for the fact that he is dreamily, you wouldn’t be any better than those who salivate at the sight of him. You could be worse.

“Not today, Mr. Nanami, these two made a mess in the bathroom, although I think Sukuna has a talent for arts, he painted the walls really well.”

“God, you’re joking.” You sign no with your head and the man sighs. “I’ll ask for the price of repair, please don’t worry about it, it’s my kids, I’ll fix it.”

“No need! Seriously, I believe just water and soap and it’ll be fine.” You grab Sukuna’s cheeks and he hides his face in his dad’s chest. “But if not, it’ll be a cute memory in the future, when they move classes or school.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Yuuji squirms. “We’re staying with you forever, right Papa?”

Oh.

“C’mon, buddy, time to go home.” Nanami laughs his answer, and you move with them, holding their backpacks. It’s a little ritual now, you could say.

You wave them goodbye and return home that day with a slight tremble in your fingers, after this year most likely you wouldn’t see them ever again, and that fact made you terribly sad. You would miss pealing the fruits for Yuuji and being gifted half of it, would miss even the mark bites of Sukuna little mouth, even though he hadn’t been a menace in a long time now.

Admitting, you would miss Nanami and his lovely smile, the way he would ask you for a ride anytime. You should accept it, you know, but could you move on from this little crush you’ve been harboring, if you are meant to never see him again? Doubt it, no one can get over the Nanami Kento.

You sleep with those thoughts, these little moments you had with him and the sweet and gentle and chaotic memories you had with the twins. It’s a bittersweet feeling teachers have, you should be used to it by now, dealing with the fact that the babies don’t stay babies forever, only in your heart and memories. But there is something in that little family that shakes your core, that moves your mind and warms your heart, something that scares you.

Saturday comes but your anxiety stays. You decorate your classroom with a large table filled with charcuterie boards and juices, there is also paintings of the kids hanging by the walls, presents to give to their parents. All of them are on the corridor, you call for one couple after the other, for the intimacy of talking about their children.

You notice how each kid can resemble their parents in a comical and adorable way. Megumi, for example, who has his mom messy hair but his dad scowl, Nobara is energetic like her mom, and sensitive like her daddy who cries when gifted her painting.

You also see how they can be with their babies. Toge’s parents who are elated with your hand signs, and how you explain that you learned it in two months for the boy and has been using and teaching it in your class, for the other students to communicate with the him. Maki’s and Mai’s parents are stiff and bored, and you take notice of that to pay more attention to the girls, help if needed anything.

You do your job perfectly, but your eyes always go searching for a blonde man whenever you go call the next parents. He is not there yet, and you wonder if he won’t come. Maybe job related, maybe he forgot, you try to not be sad.

When you are taking Nanako’s and Mimiko’s fathers to the door, waving them goodbye, you catch sight of a man with beige suit and blue shirt, in his hands another bouquet of purple tulips.

“I told you we should have given something.” Mr. Geto whispers while staring at Nanami.

“Love, that’s not a ‘Thank you for being my kid’s teacher’ bouquet.” Mr. Satoru answers with a smirk your way.

“I miss when you would give me flowers.” Geto answers, his voice low because they are already by the end of the corridor.

“Huh? I gave your flowers last week?!”

Nanami and you are staring at the couple, until their figures disappear and both of you stare at each-other, smiling fondly at first and then laughing a second later.

“I’m guessing these are for me?” You ask when you move inside the classroom, Nanami following behind. You turn to him, and he nods, giving you the bouquet, perfumed perfectly. “Thank you.”

“I’m sorry I was late, the boys wanted to come as well but I had to keep them occupied and tired.” You nod laughing, before pointing at the table in front of your desk, putting your flowers there, he sits and you move towards the wall, grabbing two drawings.

“These are for you.” You sit by his side instead of in front of the man and give him the papers, he has a sweet smile while admiring the drawings. “I asked the class to draw their family, hasn’t had the time to check yet, but I hope it’s better than the one I saw earlier: the girl draw only her sister and their cats.”

“It’s perfect, don’t worry.” Nanami has his eyes on both drawings, side by side. You can tell which is which by the colors and traces, but none other, the art is basically the same. “This is Ijichi in the car, how cute.” Nanami points at the figure in a black suit driving a car besides the house in both paintings. You stares confused at the fifth stick person, besides Nanami and the twins. “Is that…?”

“I think so…” Your hands move to your mouth, hiding your growing smile when you notice characteristics in it that resembles you, specially a rubber duck in your hands, in Sukuna’s drawing. “I’m flattered they consider me family.”

“They are not wrong.” Nanami stares at you now. “That day we meet, you were helping them with one thing I had no idea how.” He moves the drawing to your desk. “I’m not their biological father, don’t know if you know that.” You don’t, so you keep yourself quiet and let him speak. “I was their godfather, been friends with their dad ever since we were little. Itadori Jin, great guy, that’s where they inherited that beautiful pink hair.” Nanami has a sad smile in his lips that break your heart. “He and his wife died in a car crash, first date since the birth of the babies, just two months old. Their grandfather was adamant on keeping them, but he realized he needed my help, so he let me adopt them officially.”

He sighs before grabbing his thighs.

“Recently I told them about their parents, that’s why Sukuna started the biting, his sorrow is physically showing. I tried to help but didn’t knew how, but you did, you handled it better than I could.”

“You are still a great father, they might not have come from you, but they are yours. And you did helped them, Sukuna might have received some slaps from Yuuji, but Yuu always hugged him whenever it became too much, and he listened to me instead of throwing a tantrum.” You hold his arm for a second before removing your hand. “You are raising them very well, Mr. Nanami, it’s not easy to be a parent, but you are doing fine.”

“Thank you, and please call me Kento.” It’s not professional, but you nod.

“Okay… Kento.” You whisper his name like a secret, and you wonder if you feel right, but it tastes like honey in your tongue. It’s just a second of both of you staring at each-other for his eyes to move to your lips. You should move back, but you don’t, nor you can. Instead, your eyes go to his pink lips as well. “We should wrap this up, it’s late, right?”

“Yeah, we should.” But none of you move, eyes moving to eyes and lips, over and over, you wet your lips, he groans and lunges at you. You accept him easily, moving your hands to circle his broad shoulders and touch his neck, while his large hands take your waist.

You shouldn’t be doing this, but it feels wrong to not be doing it. So you allow yourself to be kissed hungrily by Kento.

There is three knocks on the door before you both jump apart, your boss, the principal, makes her way in, eyes shinning at seeing Nanami.

“Mr. Nanami, so good to see you here! Would you like to come and have that coffee we were taking about some days ago?”

Kento looks at you, his hair is a little messy and his mouth is red, he looks even more ravishing than before. You cough awkward, grabbing your flowers, bag and the twins’s drawing before moving to his side.

“I’m so sorry, Principal, but Mr. Nanami is giving me a ride home.” The man has his hands on your back in an instant, moving both of you out of the class. “I see you monday.”

The two of you leave the baffled woman behind, Nanami has an eternal perfect smile charming his face, making you want to kiss him even more. Which you do, when he closes the door he opened for you, and enters the car you kiss him, when you both stop at a red light you kiss him. And when he let you at your house, his hands again in your back, he kisses you.

You are too tempted to bring him inside, even more to have your way with him, but he beats you to it, asking you to go out with him the next day.

It’s just the beginning of your blooming relationship, flowers every week, restaurant dates, kisses at every opportunity. You both keep yourselves occupied and yet reserved. He gives you rides home after most staff and students are gone, the boys happily talking with you all the way to your house, and he leaves you at your door with a peck the babies don’t see.

It’s at your last day of the year, all your students glued to you, crying red faces you promise them to always be there when needed, giving the parents your personal number, they happily accept it. Yuuji and Sukuna are the most devasted, their little hands keep you from moving far away from them, and when Nanami comes to pick them up, Sukuna cries together with his brother, taking you by surprise.

You tell them bye and run to your apartment, where you prepare a whole meal and dress nicely, soon you hear the door knocking. When you open, it takes three stunned seconds before two little babies are running to your arms, screaming happily to see you.

“Now it’s a good time to say, Y/n is staying in our lives.” Nanami says while hugging you, both boys in your arms holding you as well.

“Forever?” Sukuna asks, Yuuji stares at you waiting for the answer.

“Yes, my cherubs, forever.”

[bunny584]

OBSESSED: TOJI

A/N: You’re booked. Busy. Filled to the brim with board meetings. Then your car decides to stop functioning. There’s one mechanic shop open and somehow they seem to only hire God’s sweetest eye candy. One of which keeps getting stuck in the back of your throat. Uh—I mean—

S/N: Toji Mother-Fucking (literally) Fushiguro. Idk why it took me so long to feature this green-eyed monster but I am foaming at the mouth for this AU, him, and his lil vampy co-worker. Toji girlies, can’t WAIT to rush Toji Tau Sigma this fall 🙂‍↕️

C/W: ….he’s his own CW. Mature, 18+. MDNI. 

Art credit: yashaliart_01 on insta

Music: for the love of God if you don’t listen to Obsessed x Mariah Carey I’m calling the coast guard. Reader wants to pretend Toji is not her newest vice so BAD. Ive never laughed so hard and been so painfully turned on writing a piece. SOMEONE tell me not to make this a series RN.

“Can I get a little help here?”

Toji grabs the rag nestled in the back pocket of his heavy work cargos. Charcoal ink stains the fabric. 

Bugatti engines are such a bitch. And make a mess like one too. 

“Hello? Am I talking to a wall or..?”

And just like that, you’ve earned yourself a few more seconds of silence. 

The mechanic’s Evergreen gaze and satisfied smirk peer back at him in the mirror. Not even a second passes before you ensnare him in your fiery scrutiny. 

Ahh, yes. Just his type. 

You are mean. 

With a sexy fucking silhouette. An angry merlot painted on those beautiful, pouted lips. A fresh manicure and keys to your Benz dig into hips that have definitely stopped traffic. 

The mirror image isn’t enough of a bite. Toji needs a real taste, so he turns around to lock eyes with his new favorite unsatisfied customer. 

“Mornin, doll.” 

“Nice of you to grace me with your presence! I was starting to think no one worked here.” 

Melodramatic, the way you narrow your gaze to bring his name tag into focus. It’s hot, though. All this sarcasm and irritation. 

“—Toji? Is it?” You hiss venom. Clearly there’s a point you’re in a hurry to make. 

But..

it’s 7:13 AM on a lovely Monday morning.  Birds are singing. The Red Bull he just downed was particularly delicious. Life is good, right now. 

Toji has all the time in the world. 

He’s in no rush. Especially when a stunning, uptight, bratty little thing — sorry, career woman — like you woke up and chose him to be your personal punching bag. 

And he’s built to take hits. From fists much, much larger than yours, gorgeous.  

“Toji, it is. What can I do for you, darlin?” 

And he knew that sweet, innocent pet name would dump diesel fuel all over those pretty flames. 

You ramble off your full name as if he is going to use it. By the time he’s through with you, you won’t have any use for it either. 

His name, though. You’ll have plenty use for his name. 

“…and when the stupid thing turns on this morning, the dash light won’t turn off.” 

Toji lands on earth just in time to clasp the car keys shoved into his chest. You’re gawking at him. Expecting a fury of motion and urgency. Because your charming little fingers demand it. 

So accustomed to time stopping and starting on your watch, aren’t you? 

“You’re so pretty.” Toji responds with a shit eating grin. 

Just for the huffing and puffing you’re currently displaying. Sputtering about how unprofessional he is. And how much work you have to get done. 

Adorable. 

Toji slips past your disdain and makes his way to the front door. Matte black G-Wagon with a champagne interior. The vision of you behind the wheel, scowling at traffic, in your tailored dress and stilettos makes his cock twitch. 

“She’s a beauty.” He calls from the driver seat. 

“That’s why I bought it. Can you please pick up the pace a little?”

Both arms are folded across your chest, eyes rolling at his wasted breath stating the obvious. 

You’re going to look phenomenal when he has those defiant arms pinned above your head. He’ll diminish those daggers in your eyes to tears. And make those puffy lips whimper for mercy. 

Toji will have you begging him to pick up the pace in no time. Your snarky comment was just a test run. 

The mechanic lets out a low chuckle, his eyes scan the dash for the source of your apparent distress. 

The tire pressure gauge. 

Really, gorgeous? This is why you’re screwed so tightly this morning? 

It should take approximately 3 minutes to fix. But there’s no way Toji is letting you slip away from his skilled fingers so easily. Not when you need to be unwound.

Unraveled bit by bit until you’re a warm, sweet, puddle of manners and gratitude. 

“Alright, babydoll—“

“My name is—“

“I’ll have my guys get to workin on it, sweetheart.” 

He can play this game all day. You scoff. Temporarily placated by his promise of a fix. 

“It’s an all day job, though.” Toji’s right hand man comes into view. 

The only other guy in the shop (on the planet) to get as much play as he does without meaning to. 

Women are insane about his stupid, empty-headed, love-drunk stare. And the purple rings around his eyes like the last time he got sleep was in his mother’s womb. Always giggling and asking about “the hot one with the pigtails” and “the pretty one with the tattoo on his nose.”

If he were a less confident man, Toji would’ve called someone else over. But the kid gets his antics. 

And today is going to be stuffed with them. 

“Choso! Can you take this beauty to the back for repair?” 

Dracula’s first born is sporting his hair down today. Already a bit damp from work. He gives you a once over, then offers a smile that evaporates underwear off of women. 

“Happy to. Which beauty am I taking to the back?”

“Ha, quit your lover boy shit.” Toji teases, and you sneer at his hypocrisy. 

“The car, big guy. Have it ready by 5:00, yeah?”

“5:00 pm?” You do a thing with your hands eventually landing on your hips. And Toji’s dick leaks like a virgin. 

“Well, there must be a courtesy rental. My first meeting starts in an hour.”

“I’m so sorry, miss. We don’t have that.” 

Kamo, you slick fuck. 

Choso apologizes with his signature puppy-eyes and half open mouth. Even you, made of sharp words and soft curves. Goddess of Fire and Ice, you melt under his gaze. 

Toji snickers to himself, while you stutter to a shockingly patient understanding. 

Something about the boy looking half asleep and like he can’t string letters together to spell his own name always does the trick. Leaving you wide open for the kill. 

“Tell you what, sweetheart.” Toji moves in with an assassin’s expertise. 

“Consider me your courtesy rental.”

“I’m sorry—what?” You flicker between the two smiles, rightfully suspicious. 

“I’ll get you from point A to point B, safe and sound.” The mechanic offers again with a broad smile, dangling his own car keys in his hand. 

Pensive eyes drop down to your watch. Board meetings start soon and he is offering a courtesy ride. 

“Fine.” Finally, a little submission. 

“It’s a 10 minute drive. The high rise on the corner of Koen and Mitake street.” 

The financial district. No wonder why you’re so tightly wound. 

“I know exactly, where we are going.” Toji beams. Beating your slender fingers to the passenger door. You barely mutter a ‘thanks’ before settling into the seat. 

You in your heels. And suit jacket. And handbag that costs enough to feed a large family for 6 months. Nestled so perfectly into his passenger seat. Toji can’t help but acknowledge how hard his dick is right now. 

The career woman clearly doesn’t approve of how fast he is hurling down corner streets. But you should understand, no? Places to be, and all that jazz?

“Uh, I’m sorry, where exactly are you taking me?” You perk up. Darting those beautiful warm eyes at the very short building in front of you. 

Not the corner of Koen and Mitake street, but Toji’s favorite coffee shop about 3 blocks over. The only place in the city that can get an Americano right - La Parisian. 

Toji grins maniacally. Pulling his sports car into a front row spot. 

“Point A, darlin.”

“Look, I don’t know what kind of game you are playing but I swear—“

“C’monnn. Lighten up.” He turns to face your incredulous expression. You wear it well, by the way.

“People stand when you walk in a room.” He continues. “They’ll still stand if you’re 5 minutes late and properly caffeinated.” 

Silence. Two huffs. A bitten lower lip. And one long, drawn out sigh.

“Fine. 5 minutes, max. Then I’ve got to get going I have—“

“Meetings baby, I know.” Toji finishes you off. 

He steps out of the driver’s seat fast enough to be at your door before your fingers touch the handle. 

The two of you walk in stride (in Toji’s mind) to the cafe. It’s adorable how you beeline towards the pastry display. Salivating over the various treats. Doing the thing women do, badgering the person manning the register about nutritional details. 

As if your figure wouldn’t make any living red-blooded human being fall to their knees. 

“What can I get started for you?” The barista probes. 

“I’ll have a soy London Fog latte, please.” You flicker over to the dessert you think you’re leaving behind. 

“And?” Toji probes. He taps the glass in front of the vanilla macaroon.

Another crack in the shield. You flash him a genuine smile for 0.04 seconds before turning back to the register.

“…and a vanilla macaroon, please.” You’re cute when you’re sheepish. 

“And I’ll have the largest iced Americano you can make, thanks.” 

Toji closes out the transaction and you two mosey over to a small table by a window. Your shoulders relax with the first sip of coffee. 

A satisfied grin tugs on your chauffeur’s lips. He knew what you needed the second he laid eyes on you. 

Much to your chagrin, and Toji’s delight — conversation flows like a bottomless well between you. The second something warm and another thing sweet landed on your tongue — the shield crumbled down. 

You’re an account executive. 

You work 80+ hour weeks. 

Live in an uppity neighborhood with a Doberman named Rocky. You got him because you like walking around at night to clear your mind. Having a dog taller than you on its hind legs and probably twice your size has eased your anxiety about that. 

You have a mean sweet tooth. 

And you’re single. Have been for the last year or so. 

“And not looking to change that anytime soon.” You reiterate, tossing him a look. 

Toji holds his hands up in feigned defeat. “I wasn’t plannin’ on it, sweetheart.” 

You’ve warmed up to his pet names, albeit against your will. But you’re there. The both of you harmonize light-hearted laughter. Fitting together like missing puzzle pieces.

“Your eyes are so green.” 

A rather obvious observation of your own, after a few moments of comfortable silence. 

As if your eyes don’t bend time. 

Toji catches his breath before responding. 

“They are…your kids could have ‘em too, if you want.” 

You burst into another fit of giggles. Unknowingly driveling rogue pastry on your chin. Babbling on and on about how ridiculous he is. And how cheesy his pick up lines are.

Meanwhile, you’re sitting there all high powered and intelligent. With a smile that makes him want to be a better man than he is. 

…and pastry all over your chin. 

Yeah. 

He’s going to marry you one day. 

Toji reaches over and swipes the macaroon off your chin. A sharp gasp tumbles from your lips, staring at his fingers. Which Toji slips into his mouth. 

He’s a betting man and would put money down on the fact that the dessert tastes exponentially better off of your skin. 

“Toji!!” 

“What else can I do for you?” Each word more smug than the last. 

“You could’ve told me I had food on my face!” Bunny lines along your nose deepen when you frown and Toji’s cock throbs to life. 

“Why?” The mechanic shrugs. “I wanted to lick it off instead.” 

The choppy inhale is music to Toji’s ears. You avoid him. Like the plague. Peeling your gaze away and planting it on the side window. Under the guise of people watching. 

But Toji knows better. 

He doesn’t miss the way you struggle to swallow your last bite. Or your thighs coming together so aggressively beneath the small table, rip tides break the surface of his Americano. 

“I felt that, baby.” Toji leans in. Shameless about the way he scans your face. 

Your lips should be outlawed.

The bottom one is marginally fuller than the top, so it naturally hangs a bit open. Inviting the most vile thoughts from his cock. Toji’s rational mind went to sleep the second you climbed into his passenger seat, princess. 

“What?” You sputter, gulping down the rest of your U.K. cloudy cappuccino, or whatever. 

“I don’t know what you’re referring to.” Your voice is steady, but the fidgeting and cagey eye contact hold the truth. 

Oh, really? 

“You’re squirming in your seat.” Toji counters, unblinking. Filling as much of your personal space as he can without tipping over. 

“Quick to cross your legs—“

“Toji!” 

Is your underwear as sticky as your face is flushed? Saliva pools in one direction, warm pre-cum pools in the other. 

“You are so out of—“

“All that talkin’ and you haven’t denied it once, doll.”

Toji’s palm digs into his crotch underneath the table. You are fucking his brain smooth with the raspberry blush along your nose and high cheeks. Sure, the sarcasm and ball-busting is hot, but this? 

The Career Woman suddenly so flustered and shy? 

You’re already thawed out. All he needs to do is dive in. 

Toji blinks back to reality when you rocket up from the table at warped speed. Your fingers clumsily fondle the zipper of your purse. 

“Excuse me for a minute.” You’re halfway to the restroom stalls by the end of your sentence.

The mechanic lasers down to the serpentine curve of your hips. Your plump, perky ass is just begging to be handled. It’s a felony, the way your work dress hugs your body. 

Is he really going to do this?

Heat slams into his groin. Wave after wave of lust slowly chipping at his teetering self-control. 

You might slap him. 

Call him a goddamn pervert. 

…and just the thought of either of those things makes his dick beat against his zipper. 

Fuck it. 

Toji is slick, how he maneuvers his way over to the restrooms. Both single-use stalls occupied, he walks up to you muttering some kind of pep talk to yourself. 

“Get your shit together.” You spit out. 

Amused, Toji leans against the wall behind you. Curious about where this cute little speech is going to go. 

“He’s a rando you met at a mechanic shop. For fuck sake, are you that horny?”

“Sounds like it, baby.” Toji takes the liberty to answer. You whip your head around and crawl out of your skin. 

Eyes wider than a newborn kitten. Mouth gaping as if you’re trying to show off how much you can handle. Toji swallows a groan. He can’t lose control. Not a chance. He has to savor his first taste of you like this. And every taste after that. 

Because, the weather in Hell is a balmy 0 degrees Fahrenheit and you are his, now. 

“I—uh, I—“ Your eyes dart over to the poor soul opening the bathroom door in slow motion. 

You think you’ve found an out, gorgeous?

Toji is faster and bigger than you are. Gripping the handle of the open door, ushering you into his new lair. Still choking on the shock of him catching your admission, you look to your left and right before diving into the empty bathroom. 

“Toji I…” 

Your back hits the wall and eyes settle on your hands. Shifty and nervous. Toji palms himself at the sight of you caged in like this. 

He’s disgusting, he knows that. 

And normally, he would ask permission. Being a gentleman and all. 

But there’s something too alluring about the way you’re trembling right now. The obvious conflict written all over your face, and heaving chest…and tense thighs…

His cock can’t take another second. 

And apparently neither can you. 

Because the second his fingers cup the back of your neck and his breath grazes your mouth you crash into him. Slotting your puffy lips into his, taking him by surprise for a millisecond. 

“Oh, T-toji.” You whine into his mouth. Grasping at his shoulders that are far too wide, far too muscular for your dainty grip.

Fucking, christ. 

Hearing his name like that. 

The gorgeous, high-pitched, pathetic plea trails down his ears to his aching sex and jerks it. If his cargos were any lighter you would’ve seen the pre-pubescent mess he’s making in his pants right now. 

But they aren’t. And you don’t. 

You mewl at how Toji nips at your bottom lip. Sinking it underneath his teeth until its swells to his liking. Melting beneath his large grasp, currently riding the dizzying lines of your hips and ass. 

“You taste fucking good, baby.” Toji mumbles into your warm cavern. Licking along the warm, soft ridges. 

“Ah-T..god.” You pull away and dive into his neck. Attempting to hide your utterly fucked out daze, but he won’t let you. 

Toji palms your ass with a tenth of his strength. You yelp and jump into his arms. He takes advantage of the momentum and lifts you high on his waist. Temporarily forcing you to look down on him.

Glassy eyed. Kiss abused lips. Panting and heaving. Cupping his face like your hands were made to. 

And something tight clenches in Toji’s chest. It takes a moment for him to shake it off, but it existed.

He’ll revisit that later.

“You look good up there, babydoll.” He pants, before setting you down on the sink ledge. He catches your chin in his hand before you turn away. Rooting you in place. 

“I…Toji.” 

Moaning his name like you’re begging for him to start and stop all at once. 

Your eyes descend to his lips. Watching the smirk blossoming across his face. Distracted enough not to notice his free hand shove up your dress in one swift motion. 

Your thighs recognize his authority and melt wide open for him. He kisses your tiny whimpers while nestling between them. 

“Mmmgh g-god please.” 

“This why you were so bratty this mornin baby?” 

Toji’s index and long fingers stroke your soaked, clothed core. Thin lace panties plastered to your warm sex. You wind your hips into his fingers. Batting your eyelashes up at him as if he’s going to give you what you want so easily.

He hovers his lips over yours. Pulling away each time you lunge forward for a kiss. Pouty and frustrated, you dig your nails into his neck and grind along his stationary fingers. 

“T-Toji, please…I’m so..ahh.”

“Needy cunt just wanted some attention, mm?” 

His fingers slip past your opening, and you offer up a soprano moan that shatters to stardust. 

Hedonistic noises fill the spaces between both of your punched out gasps. You’re fucking tight. Gummy, slick walls clamp down around his knuckles when he curves up to pet your pleasure spot. 

The steel pipe between his legs throbs against his thigh. Demanding friction. But one hand is cupping your chin and the other is so pussy drunk an army couldn’t pry his fingers away. 

“T..I—I’m oh fuck I—“

Toji bites down on your bottom lip. And you clench around him. Gushing more of your sweet arousal into his palm. And he damn near laps it up with his greedy tongue. 

“Shhh baby,” he coos against your jaw. 

“Can’t have everyone hearing the Executive getting fucked open by some mechanic’s hands can you?” 

There is a delicious irony in you treating him like a punching bag no more than an hour ago and now bucking your hips on his fingers, chasing an ever elusive high.

Sandpaper lines Toji’s throat. 

He wants nothing more than to bounce you on his cock in this bathroom. Fill you up with his cum and send you to your meetings full of him. 

But you haven’t learned your lesson yet.

“What did I promise baby?” Toji strains in your ear. His hand migrates from your chin to your neck, while his fingers ‘pick up the pace a little.’

His pretty little powerhouse. 

You babble a chorus of nothing. Unable to breathe, unable to think. Only drip. And leak. And squelch around his digits. Toji tightens the grip around your pulse point. Lulling your mouth open.  

“Talk to me, princess. What did I promise you?” He probes again, stealing air from your lungs. 

Tha—y-you would…p—point A.” Barely audible syllables tumble out of you. Ascending in pitch. Your hips reflexively try to pull away from your threatened orgasm.

“Keep going, I’m listenin.” 

“Oh fuck T..Toji?! I-Im c-im gonna—”

“I know, baby.” He smears wet kisses along your jawline. “ I can hear how messy your precious little pussy is. But I didn’t give you permission to stop. Keep going.”

Your walls spasm at his command. Followed by an angelic pitiful little whine. You’re close. So close. 

“P-P-point A to—“

“Point B.” 

Toji finishes your sentence as you reach nirvana. Full body convulsions. He slots his arms around the small of your waist. And it fits like it was molded for him. Like you were sculpted for him.

And he, for you.

The mechanic burns his gaze into your skin. Riding each choppy wave of your ecstasy. Such tiny, sexy sounds. Staccato breaths fanning his lips, his chin, his neck when you try to hide from his scrutiny. 

You are a goddamn dream. 

And his future wife.

Toji guessed it when the macaroon balanced on your chin for a full 30 seconds before he swiped it away and you accused him of defamation of character. 

But now? 

Watching you saddle this stallion of an orgasm. Clawing at his back with all the desperation of a pretty little damsel in distress. 

Distress at just his fingers, alone. 

What intoxicating melody will he unlock when he laps up the honey straight from your core? How will you gasp and moan and squirm when he single-handedly re-shapes your cunt to accommodate his size? 

He has no clue. 

But Toji will spend forever figuring you out. And mastering you.

The back of your neck fits beautifully into his grasp as he coaxes you from hiding. Pupils blown out. Cheeks flushed and warm. Tendrils matted along your forehead. Before he can speak, you beat him to the punch.

Of course you do. 

“I’ve decided,” You pant. The baseline spice returning to your grin. 

“That you might just be obsessed with me, Toji.” 

Both of you share a hushed laugh. Exchanging cotton candy breaths. But then his lips accidentally brush yours and Toji can’t help but dive in for a kiss. Fucking the warm cavern of your mouth with his tongue. 

You pull away before he’s ready, with a look on your face that makes him feel like a God. 

“I might be.” Toji whispers, partially against his will. His lips find the corner of your mouth. Careful to avoid falling victim to your pout again.

“Let’s get you to the other point B, baby.” 

The car ride to your office could make anyone queasy. 

Constant banter back and forth. Full bodied laughs. You mindlessly stroking his forearm with those angelic fingers riling his cock up as if it just now discovered women. 

You let out a small sigh, with slightly dropped shoulders when your office building comes into view. Toji doesn’t know how to interpret it. But for him? Reality is coming too quickly.

“So,” You start once the both of you are out of the car. Pretty face tilting up and Toji’s dick strains against its confines.

“What do I owe you, Mr. Fushiguro?” 

The way you say his name.

It takes the will of God for Toji to bite back his original response.

“Nothin, doll.” He’s wearing the same, dumb, love-struck face Choso wears on a daily basis. Shockingly, Toji couldn’t care less. 

“The tires just needed air. Choso will drop it off in an hour.” 

He would do it himself. But the urge to park in an empty lot and abuse the fuck out of his cock until a shred of clarity re-settles in his mind is a tad bit overwhelming, sweetheart.

Then your mouth drops in an incredulous ‘Oh’ and all Toji can picture is ruining the back of your throat. How pretty you are going to be wretching around his girth. Gasping for air. Choking on his cum. 

“Toji. Fushiguro.” You like using his name, don’t you?

“You held me hostage for a whole morning for some air—“

Toji kisses the rest of your complaints off your tongue. And you whine. Slot open for him with no resistance. Because under all that irritation and sarcasm, buried within the Trojan Horse, lays your supple, delectable submission. 

And he will take every opportunity to taste it. 

“I had a great time on our first date, babydoll.” Toji rasps against your swollen lips. 

The raging erection is threatening to embarrass him. There’s not enough restraint in the world to be around you any longer. Toji nestles your voice in his back pocket. The two of you watch each other with wordless, taken aback smiles as he takes slow steps toward his sports car.

Before the mechanic sinks into the driver’s seat, he makes a promise.

“Can’t wait for our second date, Mrs. Fushiguro!”

[fangirl-dot-com]

🤨Everyone is Convinced that You Aren't Together

*part of the reverse trope series*

Pairing: Logan Sargeant x FerrariDriver!Reader Genre: Fluff/SMAU Warning: Name calling? Summary: What is your love language? Acts of service? Quality time? Physical touch? Let's just say that you and Logan have a very different type, and no one thinks that you could actually be together.

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

“Hey dickwad!” 

The sound of the not-so-nice name had people in the main hospitality turning in your direction. However, the person whose attention you were trying to get kept on eating his lunch, making you more semi-annoyed than you already were. 

You huffed rather loudly before sitting down across from him and whoever he was eating with. The table, comprising of Lando, Oscar, and Alex, was filled with pairs of wide eyes except for two. When the blond still didn’t look at you, you reached over and grabbed a fry off his plate. 

Then, and only then, did he finally look up to glare at you. Oscar just kept eating. 

“Did you seriously just take my last fry?” Logan questioned, eyes squinting in a glare. 

You raised an eyebrow in retaliation. “Yes. And?” 

“It was my last fry, fat ass.” 

“Like I said: yes, and?” 

Logan huffed, knowing that this was a losing battle already from the start. He put his head back down and started to finish his chicken sandwich. You had momentarily blanked at what you were there for, before quickly remembering. 

You looked to the man on your left. “Are you using this?” 

Lando, with wide eyes, shook his head as he watched you take his spoon. You reeled your hand back and threw it at Logan. When it hit him in the head, he looked back up at you. 

“What the actual heck was that for, whore?” 

You shrugged. “I remembered why I was here.” 

Logan rolled his eyes. “And you decided to throw a spoon at me?” 

“Yes. You forgot your jacket again at the hotel.” 

Alex, who had been in fear of a giant argument breaking out, watched as Logan’s eyes visibly softened. He had been confused for the entire thing. 

“Did you bring it here?” 

“No.” 

Then Alex watched the glare of annoyance come back to the blonde’s eyes while you smirked. 

“Y/n!” 

You turned around at the sound of your teammate’s voice. 

“Yeah, Charles?” 

Charles could see that Alex and Lando were getting uncomfortable at the table and wanted to subtract you from the equation (even if that meant taking you away from your boyfriend). He could sense Logan’s “playful” glare from outside the hospitality. 

“We have a meeting in five minutes.” 

“Oh shit.”

You quickly stood up and rounded the table, stopping right in front of Logan’s chair. The American looked up at you. Lando and Alex watched as you stooped down. A sigh of relief was on the cusp of Lando’s lips, hoping that you’d kiss the American before you left. 

However, you just flicked his forehead. “Don’t forget to drink water, bitch.” 

With that you left with Charles on your right, conversation already flowing due to the race that weekend. 

Alex and Lando looked at Logan with wide eyes and were still surprised to see a pretty neutral facial expression as he ate a bite of his sandwich. Next to him, Oscar seemed unbothered as well. Logan was just finishing his sandwich when his eyes landed on something by Lando. 

“She left her water bottle after telling me to remember to drink water. What a cunt.” 

With a sigh, Logan stood up, grabbed the bottle and his plate, and walked over to the door. He put his dish in the return station before walking out the door. Alex’s and Lando’s eyes were glued to Logan’s figure before he went out of sight. After they turned to Oscar who was looking at his phone. 

The Aussie could feel the pair of eyes on him, but decided against it. There were a few moments of silence before George came over and sat in Logan’s empty seat. 

“Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” he asked, fork stabbing his food. 

Lando blinked a bit. “George, would you call Carmen a cunt?” 

George’s face twisted in disgust. “No?” 

“Would Carmen call you a bitch?” 

The Briton shook his head. “I hope not.” 

Lando’s head hit the table in a thunk, making George turn to Alex. “What’s wrong with him?” 

Alex rubbed his face. “What’s wrong with Logan and Y/n is the better question. They must be messing with us, because there is no way that they’re together.” 

George took a bite of his salad. “They are a bit . . . odd. Pretty mean to each other if you ask me.” 

“They’ve been like this for forever. It’s nothing new,” Oscar finally decided to add his piece. “It’s their love language.” 

Lando scoffed. “Like words of affirmation?” 

“More like words of insults. I could never insult Lily like that,” Alex muttered, taking a sip of his drink. 

Oscar rolled his eyes. “Y/n grew up with brothers and so did Logan. It’s romantic teasing if anything. You saw how Logan grabbed her water bottle. He probably took it to her.” 

Lando held his arms out. “But she didn’t bring his jacket! Is it one sided love from Logan?”

The Aussie just huffed, before he turned around. “Benny, did Y/n bring Logan’s jacket by Williams this morning?” 

The personal trainer, who had been silently laughing at the whole ordeal, smiled. “Yep. And she brought him his protein shake since we were out.” 

Oscar pointed. “See? And Ferrari doesn’t even carry those types of shakes.” 

Benny shook his head. “Nope. She would have had to go out to get it.” 

Lando was still unconvinced. “There is still no way. Maybe they can be best friends, but a couple? It’s not happening.” 

Alex winced. “I think I have to agree with Lando on this one.” 

Oscar wanted to refute once again, but he noticed it was time to go. He only hoped that maybe this weekend, Lando would be able to see that you and Logan were together. He knew that the fights between you two were good jests, and the insulting nicknames started from an inside joke that he didn’t even know the extent of. 

When it came time for the drivers’ parade, Oscar pointed out how you and Logan were practically joined at the hip. He took his designated spot to Logan’s left, while you stood to the right. He gestured for Lando and Alex to join him. 

But with a group, it seemed like you and Logan wanted to amp your antics. 

You waved to the crowd with a dazzling smile; however, your words to Logan were not as nice. Your elbow connected with Logan’s side. 

“Think you can actually finish the race today, loser?” 

Lando winced at your harsh words. Alex just stared with wide eyes. Oscar just sighed.

Logan kept his smile sharp as he also waved. His finger shoved your face back. “You think you can maybe win a race, asshat?” 

From behind you two, Max and Lewis had their mouths open as Charles giggled. The Monegasque was well aware of yours and Logan’s fun nicknames as he had heard many phone conversations since you became his teammate. 

Max leaned over to Charles. “Did she really just say that?” 

A nod from the Ferrari driver confirmed that the Dutchman did, in fact, just hear you say that. Not wanting to hear any other comments, everyone else left you two to be. But doing so, they missed Logan’s arm wrap around your waist and your head resting on his shoulder. 

The race, for you, went surprisingly well. You had, once again, finished second behind Charles, who had managed a second race win of the season in Barcelona. Max finished the podium placers. You had been too busy to try to find Logan right after the race, but you wished deep down that he had at least finished. 

After the podium, you had been on your way to media when Ellie, your PR manager pulled you to the side. 

You cocked your head. “Is everything all right?” 

The girl bit her lip nervously. “Well, Logan finished in points today. It was P8 actually. But he had some issues with Lance during the race.” 

Well, that had your blood pressure rising. 

Your eye brows scrunched. “Did something happen?” 

Ellie looked down at the floor, not wanting to be on the receiving side of your anger. Everyone knew that you, and only you, could mess with Logan about his racing. 

“Stroll mentioned something about Logan’s racing style and made some snide comments.” 

You took a deep breath before turning to walk toward the media pit. “I’m guessing you have something for me to say?” 

The poor girl tried to keep up with your bigger strides as she thrust her phone near you. You had barely glanced at the words before deciding that you didn’t want anything to do with what Ferrari had written out. 

You were a bit out of breath as you approached the microphone. You licked your lips before glancing over at Ellie, a pitiful look on your face. You wanted to say sorry for what you might say during the interview. 

“I’ll say what I want,” was picked up by the mic, making the journalist wince a bit. 

You looked at the journalist as you put your hat on. The man tried to smile before he asked you some questions about your race. He could tell that you were disinterested in the questions, so he steered the interview in a different direction. 

“We watched Logan, your boyfriend, finish the race in P8. It was a really nice race on his part. Have you been able to watch the finish?” 

You shook your head. “I wanted to see him after the race but I had to be on the podium. I’m sure he did a very great job, and I’m proud of him getting points.” 

Both Ellie and the journalist saw a sliver of a smile on your face. Too bad it was about to disappear. 

The man clinched his teeth before speaking again. “After what Lance Stroll said on the radios and after the race, do you have any plans to speak up on that?” 

Your head cocked in a slightly annoyed manner; smile wiped from your face. Around, you, some drivers went silent as they waited for your words. Charles had been behind you, waiting for his turn. He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face, and his eyes kept glancing to your back. 

Oscar, who had been talking to Alex, also went quiet before they were called to do their own interviews.   

“I can’t speak on something I haven’t heard him say. Do you want to do the honors of telling me?” 

Your hands rested on the barrier, shoulders hunching. Everyone was bracing for impact. 

“He said some choice words over the radio, and then said, ‘Sargeant is lucky that his driving style is cowardly. He’s a dumb ass for trying to pull that move, which inevitably ruined my race. He’s just a total idiot. Next year will be nicer for sure’.” 

You pursed your lips as you mulled over Lance’s words. He was definitely insinuating that Logan wasn’t going to be on the grid next year. Something that no one knew for sure. Your eyes flickered around, trying to find some shade of green. However, you couldn’t see any, and maybe that was for the best. 

You gave a very fake smile as you said your response. “Well, Lance is just a cunt, and he can learn to keep his mouth shut. I haven’t seen anything about his contract renewal, so he should really focus on his races. I can show him cowardly if he would like?” 

Your smile was sickening as you slightly threatened the Canadian. It was then that you decided the interview was over as you thanked the man before turning around to leave. Ellie gave him an apology as she trailed behind you. 

On the way to Williams, you had managed to lose Ellie. On the inside, you were apologetic for how you acted today, but Logan needed you. You really weren’t expecting to see Lance on the way, but somehow fate was in your favor, and against his. 

Oscar, who had finished, was behind you and saw the moment you made a bee-line for the Canadian. 

“Oh shit,” he muttered, picking up his pace to possibly stop you from hitting the brunet. 

When he got there, your finger was pressed against Lance’s chest as you berated him in front of the paddock. 

Alex and Lando, who had joined Oscar in trying to gently redirect your attention, were wanting to start laughing as how scared Lance was. They had finally started to drag you away, but you were still not done with Lance. 

“And if you think that you’re safe on the grid, then you’re a bigger dumb ass than I thought. You better watch out Stroll. Your head is getting too big for your body. A beau cave is what you are, and yes, I can speak French you insolent fool!” 

Oscar snorted as they finally got you into the Williams garage, Lance out of sight. You were puffing still as you tried to calm down. 

“Are you done now?” a voice sounded, making everyone’s head whip around. There Logan stood, now out of his race suit and into more comfortable clothes. 

You pouted. “Yes.” 

Logan affectionately rolled his eyes as he walked over. He put his arm around your shoulders and brought you in. “You didn’t have to do that you know. Ferrari might get mad.” 

You huffed again, sticking your head into Logan’s chest. “No one gets to call you dumb ass except for me.” 

The American hummed before kissing your forehead and then your lips. 

While you two were caught up in the moment, Alex and Lando had their mouths open. Oscar had a smirk on his face as he looked at two others. 

“Now do you believe me?” 

Lando blinked for a moment. “I do now.” 

Alex rubbed his chin. “They’re actually quite cute.” 

You knocked yourself out of Logan’s arms before punching his shoulder. Logan gawked at you as he rubbed the hurt spot. 

“What the hell was that for you bitch?” 

“That was for getting points and not telling me you swine!” 

Oscar smacked his forehead. “And we’re back.” 

logansargeant has posted

liked by sargeant4president, y/nferrari, logan2sargeant, and 74,039 others

logansargeant finally putting it the points! thanks you all for the love and support 💙

see all comments

f1slay LOGAN MY MAN

y/nxlogan the couple that stays together, slays together

americanf1fan YEE HAW LET'S GO 🦅

y/nferrai I love you bitch, I ain't neva gonna stop lovin you bitch

logansargeant love you too ass hat 🎩

alex_albon I liked you two better when you were nicer

oscarpiastri let them love the way they know best

y/nferrari awww thanks loser 😗

oscarpiastri HEY

y/nsworld Logan and y/n are the power couple of the grid

y/nferrari has posted

liked by y/nsworld, daddysmoney, logansargeant, and 1,204,395 others

y/nferrari another day, another p2, another day of Logan calling me a fat ass (but I love him) ❤️

see all comments

y/n.nation the caption is everything

logan4president the matching team colored hearts was a nice touch

Ferrari you'll get Charles in Austria 💪

charles_leclerc no she won't 🥰

logansargeant but you're my fat ass 🤤

y/nferrari maybe you'd get more points if you stop staring

logansargeant maybe you'd win a race if YOU stopped staring at charles's or max's ass

maxverstappen1 I knew it 😌

y/nferrari SHUT UR MOUTH

trustthefund I'm still worried about Lance, he looked shooked

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-s2 @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis

[punkshort]

i know who you are | 5. the dinner

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Everything seems perfect until it all unravels. Emotions come to a head and the big lie is revealed.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, pining, alcohol use, eating, flirting, sad!Joel, amnesia, slow burn, minor infidelity, one use of 'daddy', big ol' emotional argument (lots of mean and hurtful things get said)

WC: 9.5K

Series Masterlist

By some miracle, you didn't end up getting sick, although it took most people in town a full week to recover from the flu. The infirmary was packed every day and Nick regularly expressed his endless gratitude that you chose to work for him. Maria and Tommy isolated as best they could in their home out of fear their daughter would get sick. When the townspeople slowly began to recover, they were itching to do something, so they decided to host a dinner.

One thing you hadn't done in ages was bake. You used to do it often, something you found rather soothing and rewarding long before the world went to shit, so you decided to make something to bring to dinner. After exploring your pantry, you discovered you had the right ingredients to make a simple pie crust, so you got to work mixing and rolling out the dough, getting so lost in your thoughts that you didn't even hear Joel walk through the front door.

When he heard you working away in the kitchen, he walked softly towards the entryway and leaned against the frame to admire you. He crossed his arms and smiled to himself when he saw the bits of flour smeared across your cheeks and your hair a little disheveled, your appearance not a concern to you as you worked.

It was the sweetest thing he had seen in a long time. He almost felt bad when you suddenly sensed his presence and looked up, disrupting your flow.

"Don't mind me," he said with a smirk before strolling over to the table to sit. "Whatcha up to?"

"Making a pie," you told him as you pinched some flour between your fingers and scattered it over the counter. You picked up the sticky ball of dough and sprinkled that with a bit of flour, as well, before grabbing the rolling pin. "Thought it would be nice to bring something with us tonight."

Joel nodded and picked up an apple from the bowl on the table. "That's nice of you," he said before taking a bite, "I'm sure they don't expect us to bring anythin'. They're just bored outta their minds and lookin' for someone to play with their kid for a while."

"Hey! I need those!" you scolded when you heard the crunch. He paused his chewing and looked down at the apple in his hand before stretching his arm out to you with a grin.

"Here you go," he said, mouth full. You laughed and shook your head before focusing on the dough once again.

"Keep it," you said, "I'll still have enough."

He leaned back in his chair and watched you diligently roll the dough out until you achieved the level of thickness you desired and then laid it gently in a buttered pie pan.

"Can you help me peel?" you asked when you came over to grab the bowl from the table, and he couldn't resist reaching out to dust away the flour from your cheek. You looked at him in surprise and he gave you a small smile.

"'Course I'll help," he said, standing up to grab two knives from the drawer. After giving yourself a moment to recover from his unexpected touch, you joined him at the counter, placing the bowl between you both as you began to peel in a comfortable silence. It had been almost two weeks since you saw Ben outside the tailor, and although you always looked for him whenever you walked to and from work, you never crossed paths with him again. You had been hoping to corner him to try to get more information before confronting Joel, but you had no such luck. So, with a deep breath, you cleared your throat and focused on your apple before speaking.

"Joel?"

"Hm?" he replied, his brows pinching together as he carefully worked his knife around the apple in the palm of his hand.

"Can I ask you a question?" you asked as your pulse began to thrum faster in your throat.

"Sure," he said, still laser focused on his task.

"Who are the Fireflies?"

His hand slipped and he dropped the apple and knife, pulling the pad of his thumb into his mouth with a hiss. You gasped when you saw a few drops of dark red blood on the cutting board and put your knife down before grabbing a somewhat clean towel and handing it to him.

"Is it bad?" you asked, taking a step forward to try and see his injury before he wrapped it in the towel. He shook his head.

"Nah, I'll live," he said, studying the cut for a second before applying pressure again.

Still, you rushed to the linen closet to grab the first aid kit and brought it downstairs. "Rinse it under the water," you instructed him before opening the bag and rifling around. He did as he was told and watched you pluck out a bandage and a small bottle of antiseptic. "Show me," you said, and he held his hand out to you so you could examine the cut. He studied you up close while your attention was focused on his thumb, taking in every feature on your perfect face and inhaling your familiar, comforting scent while you bandaged him up. If this was what it took to get you close to him, then he was ready to injure himself every damn day.

"You're good at that," he murmured, flexing his thumb when you were all done. "Learnin' a lot from Nick?"

You packed up the first aid kit, avoiding his heated gaze. "Yeah, I guess so," you said, turning back to your apples. Ever since Joel caught the flu and you helped nurse him back to health, it felt like there was a shift in the air between you. He was more brazen with his touch, like when he wiped the flour from your cheek, and while you never asked him not to touch you, your feelings for him were complicated. Until you could figure it out, you had been trying your best to not allow yourself to get caught in his orbit.

It was proving to be more difficult than you expected.

"Why don't you go sit down, I can finish these up," you said, your eyes cast down on the apples. You felt him regard you silently for a moment before he pushed off the counter and went back to his spot at the kitchen table. It was obvious what he was doing. It was the exact opposite of what you were doing. He was trying to create a charged moment, and you were trying to avoid them.

"You didn't answer my question," you said, and his energy immediately shifted.

"Where'd you hear 'bout the Fireflies? From Ellie?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady. You looked up at him, confused.

"Ellie? No," you replied, shaking your head. "I ran into Ben a few days after our visit. He thought you had already told me about them and seemed a little skittish when I didn't know who they were."

You watched him closely, refusing to look away as he tried to mask his anger, but you could still see it. His jaw tensed and his uninjured hand clenched into a fist in his lap while you waited for an answer.

"So?" you prodded, cocking your head to the side. His nostrils flared for a second before he took a deep breath and turned his head away.

"The Fireflies were the group the three of you had joined before comin' to Jackson," he began. You tried to focus on peeling your apples but you were working incredibly slow, not wanting to miss a single word. "You were with 'em for a couple years. They had a decent setup, kept you all safe. Better than the QZ."

"Okay," you said slowly, picking up another apple. "So it was a community like this one?"

He huffed and shook his head, "Not exactly. More like an army. They're a revolutionary group. They rose up against the military and took over QZs with the promise of givin' control back to the people, but..." he trailed off and scratched his beard. "Wasn't all that simple. They killed alotta people in the process, and in the end, civilians still suffered. Didn't end up matterin' who was in control when both sides were just as violent."

"Oh," you said softly, setting your knife down, "so I joined because of what happened to my family? Because the military killed them? And then I ended up killing innocent people, anyway?"

Joel shrugged and stood up. "Like I said, we all made decisions the best we could with what we knew at the time. You didn't know any better. Nobody did."

"Did you join them, too?" you asked.

"No," he said, pressing both palms flat against the counter as he looked at you.

"So why did Ben seem to think telling me about the Fireflies would cause a problem with us?"

His mouth pressed into a thin line and you saw the suppressed rage flicker across his eyes again. "Fireflies ain't exactly well received by most people," he said, "lotta people here had family that was hurt or killed. Innocent bystanders caught in the middle of a war they didn't start."

You swallowed nervously, apples long forgotten as you braced yourself for your next question. "Did the Fireflies hurt someone you loved?"

Joel's gaze dropped to his hands and he clenched his jaw. He wanted to tell you. He should have just fucking spit it out and told you everything, but at the last second, he chickened out.

"No."

And you may not have known him as well as you did before the accident, but you knew him well enough now to be able to tell when he was lying. You tried to hide your disappointment by picking your knife back up and getting to work.

"Are there others?" you asked him, and he lifted his head up, "other former Fireflies who live here?"

"Aside from you three? Just Tommy."

Your jaw dropped in surprise and your eyes snapped up to him once again. "Tommy?"

"Mhmm, just for a little while. You didn't know each other before Jackson," he said, anticipating your next question. "Fireflies are a big group. Spread out all over the country."

"Oh," you said softly, looking back down at your half peeled apples which were slowly becoming brown on the edges. You began peeling again, faster now, as you thought about everything he just said while he watched you carefully from the other side of the counter. You weren't sure what else to say. It felt like he was telling you the truth, but you still had a hunch he was leaving something out.

"Y'know, it's a miracle I didn't eat half that damn pie before we got here," Joel said teasingly as you walked up the porch steps to Tommy and Maria's house. "Whole house smells like Christmas now. Drove me crazy all afternoon."

You smiled and smoothed down the blue blouse you found tucked away in your closet. It wasn't a top you could envision yourself working in, it looked a bit too nice for that, so you thought dinner would be a perfect time to wear it, combined with a dark pair of jeans that were relatively clean and only slightly frayed on the bottom. At the time, you thought it was cute when Joel came downstairs with his hair slicked back and his flannel tucked into his jeans for once, but when you walked into Tommy and Maria's and found the house to be filled with four married couples from around town, you suddenly felt uncomfortable.

"I didn't realize anyone else would be here," you murmured quietly next to Joel as you slid off your coats.

"He mentioned they may invite a few others but I didn't think this many," he told you, taking your coat and hanging it up before looking around. They had two tables covered in linen pushed together in their dining room which was alight with candles and sprigs of pine and holly spread around the middle, giving the room with a warm and romantic atmosphere. You swallowed nervously and all of the sudden, the evening felt too much like a date.

"Hey, you two!" Tommy's voice rang out from the kitchen, startling you out of your reverie. "Glad you could make it," he said, tugging Joel into a hug before giving you a chaste peck on the cheek.

"Um, here," you said, holding out the pie, "didn't want to come empty handed," you explained with a little smile. Tommy's eyes lit up when he took the pan from you and gave the pie a quick sniff.

"Damn, smells good, Sugar," he told you, his cheeks already rosy from the liquor he had been working on before you arrived. He shot Joel a playful look as he headed into the kitchen, handing Maria the dessert. "Your girl can bake, Joel. Lucky man."

The tips of your ears went hot and you looked away uncomfortably before Joel could catch your eye.

"I'll get us a couple drinks," Joel said, ignoring Tommy's comment, much to your relief. "What'dya want?"

You glanced around the room and what the other women were drinking before shrugging and suggesting wine. He followed Tommy over to the living room where they kept their liquor locked up and away from their toddler, who was gleefully playing with another woman you didn't recognize. Popping your head into the kitchen, you spotted Maria all by herself working on dinner.

"Maria," you said with a smile, and she turned around with a sigh of relief.

"Hey, I'm dying here, can you help me?"

"Of course," you said, rolling up your sleeves. "What do you need?"

She put you to work right away, chopping up vegetables and dumping them into boiling water before helping her thicken a sauce she was making for some pasta. You were just about to taste test the product when Joel and Tommy joined you in the kitchen with the drink that he promised.

"Smells so fuckin' good in here," Tommy said loudly before taking a generous sip of whiskey and giving Maria a quick peck on the lips. Joel put your wine glass near you on the counter and you shot him a thankful smile before bringing a spoon up to your lips to taste the sauce. You winced and scrunched up your nose and Joel chuckled.

"It's missing something," you explained, putting the spoon back down as you examined the spices available to you while Maria was instructing Tommy on doling out the appetizers.

"Lemme try," he said, rounding the corner to stand next to you. You handed him the spoon and he held up his whiskey. "Hands are full," he told you teasingly, and you rolled your eyes with a grin before dipping the spoon back into the sauce and lifting it to his mouth. He leaned in and wrapped his lips around the spoon, closing his eyes and making a soft noise at the taste. Your knees suddenly felt weak and your face felt hot as you struggled to compose yourself before he caught you.

He opened his eyes slowly and ran his tongue over his upper lip to capture the remnants of the sauce and you had to resist the urge to swipe your thumb over his mustache to gather the rest. It made your breath hitch in your throat and you forced yourself to look away, mentally cursing your body's reaction to him.

"Lemon," he said huskily, then took a sip from his glass while still staring down at you. Your eyes drifted up to his and you saw that look again. The one that made you feel too many things at once: nervousness, excitement, pressure, confusion. So you took a deep breath and squeezed past him, having no choice but to brush up against his chest.

"You're right. It needs lemon," you said, finding one in the mess on Maria's counter and slicing it in half before squeezing it generously over the sauce. Joel leaned against the counter, one arm caging you in from behind as you worked. You tried to ignore how close he was but you could feel his breath on your skin and it was causing your pulse to race. Fortunately, Maria came to your rescue.

"How's it going?" she asked, and Joel pushed off the counter, stepping back to give you both some room.

"Good, I think the sauce is done," you told her, and after she gave it a little taste, her eyes lit up.

"So good!" she said, clearly pleased. You felt your cheeks heat up before gesturing towards Joel.

"Thank Joel. He thought of the lemon."

Maria shot Joel a smile and thanked him as he tipped his glass in her direction before taking another sip. "Happy to help, ladies," he said.

"Go enjoy the party, I got it from here," Maria told you, shooing you away.

"Are you sure? I really don't mind-"

"Yes, I'm sure! I'm just going to plate everything and we're good to go. Help yourself to some appetizers before they're all gone," she said, turning her back on you as she started pulling down serving platters.

You picked up your wine and took a sip, hoping to quell some of your nerves as you let Joel lead you into the living room where the party was in full swing. Tommy had his daughter balancing on his shoulders as he talked to a couple men, their wives at the other end of the room in the middle of a lively conversation. You chewed your lip, glancing back and forth before you took another sip and looked up at Joel.

"Guess I'll go see what's got them all worked up," you told him, nodding your head in the direction of the other women.

"You sure?" he asked with a frown. "Don't want you feelin' uncomfortable. We can stick together if y'want."

You shook your head and stepped away. "I'm fine," you told him before forcing yourself to join the other women. As you approached, you gave the women a friendly wave to catch their attention and they beckoned you towards them with open arms. They all seemed to be around your age range, give or take, and very friendly as they took the time to re-introduce themselves to you. You politely listened to them talk about their kids or jobs while you sipped your wine and nodded along. When three of the women became engrossed in a story about their children and school, you felt yourself begin to zone out. The girl standing next to you, Hannah, caught your eye and smiled.

"Do you have any kids?" you asked her, and she shook her head.

"Not yet. I don't think we're ready, you know?" she said, glancing over your shoulder at her husband. "But one day I think we will. How about you and Joel? What are your plans?" she asked, then her eyes went wide with embarrassment. "I'm so sorry. That was a dumb question, you probably don't... ah, I'm such an idiot," she said, and you laughed.

"No, you're not, it's fine," you assured her as her cheeks began to flush.

"I guess I just keep forgetting about your accident. That was so rude of me," she said, "I see you guys together all the time and it seems so normal."

You glanced over your shoulder at Joel, watching for a moment as he laughed heartily at something one of the other men said. "Yeah," you told her, turning back around, "I can see why you'd think that."

Her gaze drifted between you and Joel for a moment before she lowered her voice and took a step further away from the other women. "So you still don't remember anything, huh?"

You shook your head sadly. "Nothing. At this point, I'm not expecting anything to come back. I'm just trying to start over."

She nodded solemnly and took a sip from her wine. "How's it going with you two?" she asked, tilting her chin in Joel's direction. You sighed and rubbed your eyes. Same old questions, different person.

"Okay, I guess. He's been incredibly patient," you said, "but I think he is still holding out hope that my memory might come back and we'll just pick up right where we left off."

Hannah gave you a sympathetic look right as Maria approached with a big smile stretched across her face. "Dinner is served!" she announced to the room before bending down and stretching her arms out for her daughter.

Everyone began to scatter as couples rejoined and headed towards the dimly lit dining room. Joel appeared by your side, his hand hovering over your lower back as you waited for the other couples to take their seats.

"Havin' a good time?" he murmured, and you gave him a tight smile before nodding. Joel pulled out one of the two remaining chairs for you and you whispered your thanks when you sat down, then he pushed it back in before taking his own seat. He relaxed and stretched his arm across the back of your chair while he listened with amusement to Tommy drunkenly telling a story that had carried over from the living room.

"The table is beautiful, Maria," you told her, leaning away from Joel a bit. "It's so cozy and warm, you really outdid yourself."

She smiled as she bounced her little girl on her knee. "Thanks. We were just itching to do something, you know? We got a little cabin fever, I think."

You felt Joel's thumb brush lightly against your spine, making you shiver. But when you glanced over at him, he was still caught up in listening to Tommy and you wondered if those little gestures were intentional or if it was muscle memory.

Once everyone began to eat, Joel dropped his arm from your chair and you found yourself missing the warmth that radiated from him, confusing yourself even more. Sometimes you just wanted to hit your head against the wall and rattle your memories loose so you could stop feeling so conflicted. If you were this confused, you couldn't imagine what Joel was feeling. Although, at that moment, he seemed to be perfectly content as he stood up with Tommy to get another drink.

"Y'want any more?" Joel asked, nodding to your glass but you shook your head.

"Maybe later," you said, and when he caught your eye he gave you a quick wink before following Tommy back into the living room.

"So, how's it going at the infirmary? Still like it?" Maria asked, drawing your attention back to her.

"Yeah, I do, actually. That was a good idea, I've been meaning to thank you," you said, wiping the corners of your mouth with a napkin. "It feels good to stay busy and I'm learning a lot."

"Well, Nick always speaks so highly of you. Especially after that nasty flu worked its way through town. He said you were a godsend," Maria told you while simultaneously handing her daughter a steamed carrot.

"She was. Worked her tail off all week then had to deal with me when she got home," Joel said as he sat back down with a soft grunt. You smiled at him, grateful for the compliment.

"If he's anything like his brother when he's sick then I'm sure you've earned sainthood status," Maria said to you, making everyone laugh.

"Hey, what're you sayin' 'bout me down there?" Tommy slurred with a grin from the other end of the table. You were fairly certain Maria answered him with some sharp remark which made the table laugh again, but you couldn't exactly remember because Joel dropped his hand to rest on your knee and you suddenly couldn't think straight. Your skin felt hot under his touch, even through your jeans, and you could have sworn the whole room could hear how loudly your heart was pounding in your chest, so you anxiously grabbed your wine glass and finished the rest in one gulp, hoping it would steady your nerves.

You could have asked him to move his hand. You could have made an excuse, gotten up and used the bathroom, but you didn't. You remained perfectly still, allowing his hand to rest on your leg as you tried to focus on the conversation at the table. Because although your mind was saying one thing, your body was always reacting differently.

If you had known what would have ended up happening that night, you would have done something in that moment. Maybe if you had, it would have changed everything.

Instead, you sat there and didn't say a word. You just politely listened to everyone talk with Joel's hand still on your leg while your body and mind waged a war nobody could see.

When Maria stood to hand off her daughter to Tommy and clear the table, you joined her, finally ending Joel's grip on you. The other women stood while the men attempted to help but got shooed into the living room. When all the ladies were alone in the kitchen, Maria pulled out a jar of apple flavored moonshine that she told you all quietly she was hiding from Tommy because it was her favorite before passing it around for everyone to have a taste.

It was strong. Each of you had to stifle your coughs into your hands, which erupted into giggles and eventually caught the attention of the men, so you all did your best to distract them after they curiously poked their heads into the kitchen so Maria could hide the jar once again.

In retrospect, the alcohol didn't do you any favors. Your head was swimming a little by the time dessert was served and you found yourself inadvertently leaning into Joel's shoulder as everyone complimented your pie and he watched you adoringly while you waved off the praise.

The food was amazing, but combined with the drinks, you found your eyelids growing heavy as the party moved back into the living room and Maria took her daughter to bed.

"I think I'm going to get some air," you told Joel while everyone else got comfortable.

"You alright?" he asked, examining your face closely. You nodded.

"Just getting tired," you explained as you took a step towards the door, but he immediately put his glass down.

"Why didn't you say so? We can go home."

"No, it's okay-"

"You've been workin' so hard lately. You need your rest. Go get your things and I'll tell Tommy we're headin' out," he said, refusing to hear another word. And as much as you didn't want to tear him away from the party, you had to agree with him. The past couple weeks were physically draining and it definitely seemed like the exhaustion was catching up with you.

Once Joel announced your departure and everybody bid you good night, you each grabbed your coats and slid on your boots before heading outside. The brisk night air was a shock to the system and it helped wake you up a bit on the walk home. Joel wrapped his arm around your waist as you walked, holding you close to him, enveloping you with his warmth and when you inevitably reflected on that night, you would remember that moment as one on a long list of ways you were sending him mixed signals because you didn't pull away. Because as confused as you were about your feelings for him, you couldn't deny the attraction you harbored. And maybe it was partially your fault for not being stronger because you knew, you fucking knew Joel's feelings for you were far deeper than yours that night, and yet you still didn't step away.

When you arrived home and Joel fumbled clumsily with the door, you giggled, making him grin and his eyes light up at the sound before finally shoving the door open and flicking on a light. You shrugged off your coat and kicked off your boots with a sigh, the faint smell of apple pie still lingering in the air. You were happy to be in the comfort of your own home and eager to throw on your pajamas, but Joel led you into the kitchen first and poured you some water. You couldn't help but smile at how reminiscent it was from when he was sick and you did the same thing for him, so you took it and made sure to drink the whole thing while he watched with a pleased expression on his face.

"Did I tell you how beautiful you looked tonight?"

The glass was still pressed against your mouth, the last drops of water just swallowed, and you froze. Slowly, you lowered the glass to the counter and shook your head, unable to look away from his heated stare.

"Well, you did. Lit up the whole place. Prettier than all the other women," he said, fighting to remain still and not pull you into his arms. But he was losing that battle.

"Thank you," you said softly, forcing yourself to look away. It didn't deter him.

"I mean it. Couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout you. Talkin' 'bout you," he said, watching your face heat up as he blinked slowly. "Lookin' at you," he added after a quiet moment, and you laughed softly while you crossed your arms protectively over your chest.

"Joel..." you began, not even sure what you planned to say so you opted for staring blankly out the window just so you wouldn't have to look him in the eye.

"What, baby?" he murmured, taking a bold step forward and pinching your chin with his fingers. You dragged your gaze back up to him just to find his dark brown eyes all wide and filled with hope and tenderness as he stared down at you, his gaze flicking from your eyes to your lips, clearly displaying his intention but you still didn't step away. Your body wouldn't let you move.

"We're both drunk," you told him, trying to remain rational. Trying to stay clear-headed.

"Not that drunk," he quickly countered, his eyes still roaming your face, his fingers still pressing into your chin and you could feel your heart flutter wildly. Why on earth couldn't your mind catch up with your body?

You sighed, partially from the exhaustion, partially from the inability to properly express yourself but he took it to mean something else. He heard your sigh and thought you were finally giving in. That you were finally going to let him kiss you. Because why else wouldn't you have pulled away?

He leaned forward, his eyes slid shut, and although you should have known it was coming, it still surprised you. Your eyes stayed open wide as he inched towards you and finally at the very last second, you tilted your face to the side, causing him to press his lips against your cheek instead.

You felt his reaction before you could see it. His lips immediately tensed against your skin and his breathing stalled. Then his hand dropped from your chin and he leaned back, eyes no longer warm and inviting.

You tightly pressed your lips together in shame. "Joel, I'm sorry-"

"Don't be," he said quickly, cutting you off and backing away.

The hurt was evident across his face, although he tried to hide it by averting his gaze.

"I just don't think I'm there yet," you said after a long, tense moment. "I'm trying-"

"Yeah, I know," he replied harshly, turning on his heel and marching out of the kitchen. "I know you're tryin' to force yourself to love me. It's gotta be real hard, I get it," he spat, his voice so cold it made you shudder as he shoved his boots back on.

You choked back a sob as you watched him grab his coat.

"Where are you going?"

"Don't know," was all he said before flinging the door open and storming out, leaving you all alone in the entryway with tears slowly streaking down your cheeks.

What an absolute fucking idiot he was.

What was he thinking? That you would magically find him attractive again? Love him again? That he was worthy of your time and care and attention? After everything he did?

You didn't know, of course, but what else could it be, other than fate? Or karma? Or whatever it was, coming back and erasing all your memories of him to set things right? Because did he ever really deserve you in the first place?

No, definitely not. Not after everything he did.

His legs carried him blindly to the Tipsy Bison. It was a quiet night, and maybe had he been in the right frame of mind, he would have been surprised. Most of the town was cooped up the past couple weeks, under normal circumstances he would have thought it would be busier, but at that moment in time, he didn't care. He only cared about one thing: he needed to forget.

He motioned for Seth and he nodded in acknowledgment before pouring him his usual whiskey and setting it down. Joel snatched it up and immediately downed it with a wince before pushing the empty glass towards Seth.

"Another, please," he muttered before burying his face in his hands with a groan. Seth eyed him suspiciously before pouring his second drink and setting it back down on the bar.

Joel let the glass sit there a few minutes while he stewed in his anger. He wanted to blame you, but he couldn't. Not really. He knew it wasn't your fault but, fuck, he just wanted you back. He was so goddamn lonely that it made his chest hurt. He rubbed it absentmindedly before picking up his glass and forcing himself to take a slow sip. He had already drank too much at Tommy's and if he didn't want to wake up with a massive hangover, he had to slow down.

"Hey, cowboy," a familiar, flirty voice suddenly said from beside him. He tilted his head to the side and had to fight the urge to roll his eyes.

"Angie."

She smirked and pulled up a tall barstool, scooting her way up with a little grunt that made his stomach clench as he watched her maneuver in her tight jeans.

"What's got you so blue?" she purred as she took a sip from her drink and crossed her legs, her foot coming dangerously close to touching his calf.

"Who said I was blue?" he asked gruffly before taking another swig of whiskey.

She laughed softly and tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Kind of hard to miss," she said, resting her chin in her palm as she looked at him expectantly.

His eyebrows furrowed at her but she noticed the way the corner of his mouth twitched and she bit her lip playfully.

"C'mon, what's the matter? You can tell me, baby," she cooed, and he squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head.

"Don't call me that."

Angie pouted and leaned closer, her breath tickling his ear when she whispered, "Oh, that's right. How could I forget? You prefer daddy."

"Knock it off," he growled, turning away from her and ignoring the stirring below his waist, but it wouldn't be that easy. It never was.

She rested her delicate hand on his forearm and his muscles twitched, but he didn't move. As much as he hated to admit it, he missed being touched. And in that moment, any touch would do. She smiled and slid her hand up his arm slowly, and he let her, his eyes fixed somewhere in the opposite direction as he tried with all his might to ignore it, to fight it, to stand up and fucking leave, but he couldn't do it.

"So tense," she murmured in his ear, and his eyes fluttered shut. "I can help with that, y'know." Her hand dropped from his shoulder to his lap and had Joel's eyes been open, he would have seen Seth's eyes widen in surprise before looking away. "We're real good at it, remember?" she continued, her fingers inching towards the seam of his jeans. But before she could reach between his legs, his hand grabbed her wrist.

"Stop it," he said weakly, forcing his eyes open to glare at her, but she just smiled sweetly at him and pulled her hand back.

"I need to use the restroom," she said, her voice sultry. "You remember where the ladies' room is, right?" she asked with a wink before sliding off the stool and swinging her hips as she strolled down the hall towards the bathroom. He groaned and rubbed his face roughly.

He wasn't sure how it happened. He wanted to blame the whiskey, he wanted to blame you, but at the end of the day it was all on him when he found himself shoving open the door to the women's room and crowding Angie against the sink, his mouth crashing down on hers hungrily.

It was only one tiny minute of weakness. When he realized his mistake, when he remembered her lips weren't anything compared to yours, when her noises were not the noises he wanted to hear, her touch not the touch he craved, he immediately stopped kissing her, pulling back and cursing under his breath.

Angie looked at him, her eyes dark and her cheeks flushed, then took a step forward but he held up his hand.

"No," he said a bit too loudly, the whiskey making his head swim as he stumbled backwards towards the door. She rolled her eyes and grinned.

"C'mon, Joel. When are you going to realize she's not coming back? You need to move on," Angie said sweetly. Too sweetly. "You deserve to be happy," she added, and he frowned when the enormity of what he had done dawned on him through his drunken haze.

"Stay away from me," he warned her, reaching for the door and yanking it open.

"Fine. But just remember: you followed me in here!" she shouted after him as he disappeared down the hall. He snatched his coat from his barstool and jogged towards the exit.

He had to get home.

The carpet should have been worn to the floorboards by the time Joel finally came back. You had been pacing around the living room, chewing on your fingernails nervously as you replayed the entire evening in your head. The guilt was fucking suffocating you. You couldn't help but feel like you were partially to blame, but you would have broken his heart if you let him kiss you without fully understanding how you felt first, and he didn't deserve that. Maybe once he cooled down, he would understand.

When you heard his slow, heavy footsteps walking up the porch stairs, your heart leapt into your throat. The door creaked open slowly, as if he expected you to be asleep and he was trying to be quiet, but when he closed the door and saw you standing in the middle of the living room, your arms wrapped around yourself, his face contorted into a grimace.

"You're still up," he said, voice a little raspy as he hung up his coat.

"Joel, I'm so sorry," you began, "I'm just so confused. I'm still trying to work out my feelings but I don't want to rush into something and risk hurting you."

He swallowed and hung his head in shame, unable to look at you.

"Please don't apologize," he whispered, but you kept going.

"Of course I'm going to apologize. I sent you mixed signals and I ended up hurting you anyway."

"I did somethin'," he blurted out, and you froze mid-sentence, waiting for him to elaborate. Silence filled the room, your eyes drifted around aimlessly before you sunk down onto the edge of the couch and tucked your hands under your thighs.

"What did you do?" you asked, your voice wavering when you realized he still hadn't looked you in the eye.

He took a steadying breath and propped his hands on his hips, his face still angled shamefully towards the floor. "I kissed someone else."

His words hung heavy in the air, your deep, ragged breaths the only sound filling the room as your tired mind tried to make sense of what he just said.

"What?" you finally asked, voice deathly quiet. He forced himself to look at you now, his dark eyes brimming with tears.

"It was a mistake-" he began, voice thick with emotion, tongue heavy and clumsy between his teeth, but you stopped him.

"Just now?" you asked incredulously, your stomach turning sour. Fighting the nausea back down with a harsh swallow, you spoke again. "You tried to kiss me, I shot you down and you just... went out and found someone else?"

"That's not what I left to do, it just happened-"

"Who?" you asked, your gaze stony as you continued to stare at him, anguish and regret flickering across his face.

"Does it matter?" he tried weakly, softly, but it just pissed you off even more.

"Yes," you hissed, slowly standing back up on now shaky legs. "Who, Joel?"

His throat bobbed and he shifted his weight and when he mumbled Angie's name, you saw red.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" you whispered, quickly closing the gap between you and shoving him hard against the chest, causing him to stumble back in shock. When he looked you in the eyes, all glassy and cold and distraught, his blood felt like ice in his veins.

He was losing you.

"Please, lemme just explain-"

"What could you possibly have to say?!" you exclaimed, your body growing hot with rage. Hands shaking so badly you had to cross your arms to hide the tremor. "I was taking too long to fuck you so you went out and found a sure thing?"

"I didn't fuck her, but I could've!" he yelled back, an angry vein popping out of his neck at his sudden outburst. Your eyes went wide and you took a step back in surprise. He didn't know why he was yelling. He knew it wouldn't help, but he just snapped. "I never once pressured you to sleep with me! I gave you your space an-and respected your boundaries," he was flailing now, his thoughts scattered as he desperately tried to make sense. "But I'm a human fuckin' being and I got drunk and I was lonely and I made a fuckin' mistake! And I'm sorry, alright?!"

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. "You're lonely," you repeated, the words like poison on your tongue, and he frowned. "What about me? I'm lonely, too! You know what the first question is out of everyone's mouth ever since my accident?" you asked, glaring up at him, anger rolling off both your bodies. "They ask me how you're doing. You! Like this was some tragedy that only happened to you! But I lost fucking everything in the blink of an eye!" Tears began to burn the backs of your eyes now but you pushed on. "My world literally turned upside down in an instant and everyone just kept waiting for me to get with the program, including you!"

"That's not true," he said, shaking his head angrily, "I never pressured you to do anythin'!"

"It's the way you look at me!" you cried, wiping the tears from your cheeks. "You don't even realize you're doing it but you keep looking at me, expecting to find the woman you fell in love with but she's gone, Joel!"

You both fell silent, staring at one another, shoulders heaving as you each sat with the weight of your words.

"I don't care," he finally said, lowering his voice. "I still love you. I told you that first day. What we got is rare and special and I'm not givin' up on us."

"Then how could you go kiss someone else the first time there's a bump in the road?" you asked, tone hurt and dejected, then you turned and headed up the stairs.

"I told you, it was a mistake," he pleaded, following you. "I'm so sorry... wait, what're you doin'?" he asked when he realized he had followed you into your room. You were snatching clothes from the drawers and tossing them onto your bed, and that's when he really began to panic.

"I can't stay here," you said, disappearing into the bathroom. His vision narrowed and his legs became weak as fear flooded his veins.

"No," he whispered, but you didn't hear him. You were busy gathering a few toiletries from the bathroom and tossing them on the bed along with your clothes, but when you walked past him to get a bag, he grabbed your arm.

"Don't do this," he begged. You yanked your arm out of his grip and stepped back, glaring at him and he realized in that moment he would rather have you there screaming at him for the rest of the night than not have you there at all, so he kept talking. He kept pushing.

"Y'know, for someone who says she doesn't have feelin's for me, you sure seem to be pretty pissed off," he glowered, and your eyes widened. That's it, he thought, let me have it. "If you don't want me, if you don't give a shit 'bout me, then what the hell does it matter if someone else does?"

You gasped, his words like a punch to the gut. Like a blade to your heart. Without thinking, your arm swung back and your palm cracked loudly against his cheek, stunning you both into silence.

He wanted to rub the spot, to help soothe the pain with the tips of his fingers, but he resisted. Instead, he let his cheek redden so you were forced to see what you did.

"You think I don't give a shit about you?" you seethed once you found your voice, palm stinging at your side, eyes flickering between his eyes and his cheek.

"Sure seems that way," he countered, and your jaw clenched angrily as the next round of tears began to well up.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" you yelled, your hands balling into fists at your sides. "How dare you. You made me give a shit about you, you asshole!"

You shoved past him and headed down the hall to the spare room in search of a duffel bag, but Joel was hot on your trail. If he let you leave, he would never get you back.

"The hell does that even mean?"

You whipped around, making him stumble backwards, your eyes wild and bloodshot. "You told me you would make me fall in love with you again! This whole time we've been getting to know each other, building up our relationship and you think after all that, after everything we've shared, that I don't give a shit about you?"

"Well-" he began, but you cut him off.

"I took care of you when you were sick. I sat next to your bed for a full week, waiting for you to fall asleep, making sure you had everything you needed," you said, your voice growing quiet as hot tears spilled down your cheeks. "You told me about your daughter. I told you about my brother," you whimpered, your voice cracking on the last word. Joel's face fell when he finally realized how broken you were, the full weight of his actions realized. "How could you say that to me?" you sobbed, burying your face in your hands, your cheeks hot and wet in your palms. Your head ached. Your heart ached. You needed this to end.

"Oh, god, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it," he told you, stepping forward and pulling you into his arms. You only let yourself melt against his broad chest for a moment before you sniffled and pushed him away. Turning around, you snatched the bag from the ground and stormed past him.

"Tell me how to fix it," he pleaded as he followed you back into your room.

"You can't."

His head was pounding, throat scratchy and dry as he watched you pack from the doorway, his chest tightening with each article of clothing that passed through your hands.

"Please. Stay. I-I-I won't even talk to you if that's what you want, just please stay."

You paused, your eyes squeezing shut as you silently cried over your bag. "You want me to stay, Joel?" you asked, voice trembling, and even though weren't looking, he nodded.

"I'll do anythin'," he said earnestly, and you opened your eyes. Reaching for your journal, you flipped it open to a well worn page and tossed it on the bed. He frowned at it, confused, but stepped forward and picked it up.

"Then tell me what you lied about."

His eyes scanned the page, reading the four words over and over. Joel lied to me. No context, but he didn't need any. He knew.

You could see the conflict in his face as he tried to figure out a way around it.

"The truth. Or I'm gone," you said firmly, and when his eyes flicked up to yours, you saw fear.

He slowly turned around, the journal held delicately in his massive hands, as he sat down onto the edge of your mattress.

"Okay."

The shock made your tears slow to a stop.

"Okay?"

"Yeah, okay," he repeated, his tone somber as he stared down at your journal in his lap. "What's the difference now, anyway? You already hate me."

I don't hate you, you thought, but you remained silent.

"If I tell you, you promise not to leave?" he clarified, and you thought about it for a moment. What if it was something really bad? But you knew you wouldn't get the truth out of him any other way, so you nodded. You figured if you still left and ended up becoming a liar, then at least you would be even.

"I told you 'bout the Fireflies," he began, and you got the feeling the story was going to be long so you sat down on the bed.

"Yes."

"You, Ben 'n Lisa were all part of a group out in Salt Lake City," he said, his gaze pinned on the journal. "In a hospital. Doin' research."

"Research? I don't know anything about-"

"You weren't doin' the research. The three of you were just guards. Patrolmen. There were doctors there, and they were lookin' for a cure," he continued, then took a deep breath before lifting his chin and staring at a fixed point on your wall.

"Did they find one?" you asked, remembering that first day when Joel told you about the outbreak. You had asked him at the time if there was cure and he said no. That couldn't be the lie, could it?

"Well, they were close," he said, his brow pinching together. "This next part is somethin' that's gotta stay in this house, y'hear me?" he asked, finally turning to look at you. "Y'gotta promise me that no matter what you end up thinkin' of me, you can't tell anyone 'bout this part."

You didn't want to make that promise. Why would you, after everything he had put you through? But, still, you found yourself nodding slowly, then his next sentence knocked all the air from your lungs.

"Ellie's immune."

Your lips slowly parted as the shock coursed through you, your eyes slowly drifting down to the comforter. Your mind was blank except for Ellie's immune, Ellie's immune playing on a constant loop.

"It's why you didn't write anythin' else, I reckon," he explained, holding up your journal. "Didn't want anyone to find it."

You slowly began to put the pieces together. A research hospital. Ellie's immunity. They were close to a cure.

"The Fireflies thought they could use Ellie to create a vaccine," he said after a long pause. "And I took her to 'em. Took her right into the lion's den," he said with a dry chuckle. "Didn't realize til after they took her that they would've had to... kill her to get what they needed."

Your eyes darted up to meet his again as you listened, entranced.

"Nobody knows, okay?" he said, his voice wavering a bit. "Only Tommy. No one else can know. Her life depends on it, d'you understand?"

You nodded, still unable to find your voice, so he continued.

"When I realized what they were doin', that they would have to kill her, I just..." he trailed off and scratched his chin, looking away, eyes distant. "I lost it. It's the only way to describe it."

"W-what do you mean?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

"I killed alotta people," he said, voice cold and detatched, "alotta fuckin' people. Whoever got in my way, I just... didn't think twice. 'Til you."

You inhaled sharply, almost forgetting you were somewhere in that hospital.

"Me?" you squeaked.

"You didn't see my face," he said, his voice beginning to shake. "None of you did. The three of you were together. You surrendered. Had you face down on the ground with your hands behind your head. Told me you were plannin' on ditchin' the Fireflies anyway. That you wouldn't come after me." His hand trembled in his lap and he made a fist.

"You weren't the first ones to say that to me, but you were the first ones I let live."

You pressed your palms into your face, trying to quell the ache behind your eyes as you rocked gently back and forth on the bed, heart thundering in your chest, blooding pumping too fast. The exhaustion was too much. You could hardly make sense of what he was saying.

"You almost killed me," you said, more of a statement than a question, your voice muffled through your hands.

"Yeah." He watched you carefully, trying to read you, desperately searching for some small glimmer of hope underneath all your rage and confusion.

"Then what?" you forced yourself to ask, pinching the bridge of your nose.

He ticked his jaw to the side and looked away.

"Then... Ellie 'n me came here. Started over. Tried to forget," he sniffed, pulling at a loose string on his shirt. "Then the three of you showed up couple months later. Scared the fuckin' shit outta me, but none of you seemed to recognize me."

"Because we never saw you," you said, and he nodded.

"I didn't speak to you for over a month. I was so scared you'd recognize my voice or somethin', but I just couldn't stay away from you," he said, his eyes softening now. "Then that night at the bar happened. When you came up to me and-"

"Yeah, I remember what you told me," you replied, not eager to relive that story at the moment.

"Then the rest is history. We started messin' around. You didn't know who I was for a few months, then I finally told you."

"After you were already fucking me," you said coldly, and he winced.

"After I fell in love with you."

You sat back and rubbed your eyes. You had so many questions. What was your reaction when you first learned who he was? If you stuck around, you must have seen something in Joel that made you feel safe. Why did he spare you? Was it only because you couldn't identify him? And how much did Ellie know?

"Please say somethin'," he begged after a few tense, quiet minutes.

"What do you want me to say?" you asked him, your shoulders sagging forward, limbs too heavy. "You want me to forgive you? You want me to say I understand?" He shook his head but you kept talking.

"You spared my life just to break my heart."

He turned away from you as his face crumpled. "I'm gonna fix it," he said, his throat tight and voice thick as he fought off the tears that were threatening to spill down his face. "I'm gonna make it right, if you just-"

"Can you go, please?" you asked quietly, "I have nothing else to say and I'm fucking tired."

He looked over at you but you refused to look up, your puffy eyes fixed blankly on the floor. His gaze drifted to the bag and clothes littering your bed and he asked, "Are you stayin'?"

You didn't answer. You just slowly stood up and flung your comforter back, some of your clothes falling into a heap on the floor but you didn't care as you crawled into bed and turned your back to him.

Begrudgingly, he stood. His eyes flicked around your room nervously, his fingers fidgeting at his sides while he chewed on the inside of his cheek, struggling to come up with the right words to say.

"Go!" you sobbed from underneath your blankets, hiding from him the tears that were soaking your sheets.

So, he left. Not because he wanted to, but because he caused you enough agony for one night, and as much as he wanted to stay and beg on his knees for forgiveness, it would be the selfish thing to do. Instead, he went to his bed and stared at the ceiling, barely sleeping the entire night because his body jerked awake at every little creak the old house made, wondering when he woke up, if you would be gone for good.

Please follow @punkshort-notifs and turn on notifications for fic updates ❤️

A/N: Yes, there will be a happy ending 😘

[cvnt4him]

How I think certain guys would be w a chubby gf bc who doesn't love chubby girls??

..............................................

T.Iida.

He definitely doesn't really care ab weight, he was js surprised someone wanted him.

He does care about you gaining weight because the risks that can come from being overweight scare him more than it does you.

He tries to occasionally get you to eat healthy and consider doing a diet [he would try so hard to say it in a chill way to not anger you or if you're like me, a sensitive chubby person, he'll try so hard not to make you cry to the point you stop eating lol!!!].

He overall just wants the best for you, and if you've really begun to love yourself regardless of how you look, love handles, belly fat, stretch marks, cellulite n what not then he will too, he only wants to love you, he feels like it's his soul purpose other than becoming a hero to honor his brothers name or whatever the fuck.

Hes mainly big spoon bc I feel like he's js programmed like that, but he likes laying his head on your tummy while you rub his hair, he'll take his glasses off n js lay there w you. My cutie pie fr

Bite his tiddie make his dick twitch

..............................................

K.Bakugou.

Loves chubby women.

Like he loves it ALLL like hip dips? Yes. Stretch marks? Yupp. Tummy fat? Yummers!!! N when you have fat thighs bro??? He fr LOVES being in between them can't convince me otherwise.

I feel like he would call you cringe shit like chubs js to make fun of you in that cutesy little couple way so bc yk he's obviously joking you don't take it to heart too much bc yk I'm a sensitive cunt so regardless some things pull on my sensitive little heart strings.

He likes to bite your everything. He just loves it bro, leaving hickeys on your skin is js perfection to him.

He loves being big spoon mainly because you are shorter than him, but he just loves holding you either way, squishing every little inch of fat he can get his huge warm palms on.

Sit on his lap, he loves it, the feeling of your weight comfortably sitting on top of him makes him hard fr.

I feel he benches alot like bro I feel like he can take at least maybe ab 300Ibs bc bro, let's keep in mind he was capable of handling OFA in that one movie, at the beginning of the series it was stated you had to have some kind of muscle/mass to handle it n like to not get your shit blown off so yh he can definitely carry you.

He js loves holding you and tightly gripping onto your chub.

..............................................

E.Kirishima.

Chubby chaser, like the definition.

I feel like he respects women the most out of everyone in the class even the girls, he js screams 'I'm an ally to women' bro. Try n change my mind. You can't.

He loves everything about you regardless, skinny chubby, big boobs small boobs, full lips thin, everything about you is mesmerizing to him simply because you just... Are.

Are what you may ask?

You simply just are.

You're like the it girl in his eyes, a goddess, the only being he wants and craves to worship. He loves holding you like bakugou, feeling and seeing your chub in his hands and the way it like squished out in between his fingers when he grabs onto a part of your body that holds a lot of fat, like your tummy or thighs or boobs he'll go berserk.

You turn him on so much you can make out for 3 seconds n his dick is hard as a rock [pun intended bc that's his quirk.]

He doesn't care what spoon he is as long as you're near him, he loves when you rake your fingers through his freshly washed hair and when you kiss his scalp that needs a new coat of dye.

[ bc you're bat shit crazy if you think I'm going near his crunchy ass greasy ass dandruff infested looking like a dandelion field ass head if this mf aint wash it. I'm so dead ass miss me w all that bullshit bc no.. it's that serious. Ik his shit stink stink.]

All slander aside he's a sweetheart and deserves to be loved.

He likes picking you up I feel like, like he'll js randomly throw you over his shoulder for the fun of it.

..............................................

M.Izuku.

My husband, the loml, my twinky little wifey, my male wife, my babygirl, my pookie sugar hunny sweetie bear pie, my zuzubear.

He loves whatever he can get, just like iida. He doesn't realize he actually pulls bitches so when you confess to him [infront of ochako bc I'm a messy bitch] he absolutely blows his top, bc you're really pretty to him heavy or not you're fucking perfect.

He loves being little spoon convince me other wise [you can't don't try🤦🏽‍♀️] he likes being held like a baby bro don't even try arguing bc I'm not even going to reply. He likes laying on your boobs because he's a pervert.

Like he's so perverted if he is on the rare occasion, being big spoon he gets hard when you rub your ass against his dick while you're trying to get comfortable, you love getting dicked down by a powerful mf that can man handle you, don't get me wrong, however it can be tiring fucking someone who has a lot of stamina and can never seem to be tired. Which is why he's semi banned from being big spoon.

He's such a pervert bro, like he fr has It written down in his notebook that mt lady has a fat ass, I js know he writes shit down ab anything that even involves you whether it be sexual or not.

Your boobs seem to feel slightly heavier in his hands? Jotted down. Ass seems to have gotten fatter? Already sketched a very detailed picture of you in a bikini of his hero suit.

Now that we're on the topic of him being far too artistic for my liking, you can't tell me he doesn't draw you in such lewd ways like I'm talking you as a secretary busting out of the seams of your shirt.

Like he fr draws you being fucked by little squid arms like in hentai or whatever. He watches alot of porn so he knows what he likes to see and what hed like to see from you. He's a gooner fr can't convince me otherwiseeee

He's a total goofy goober though, if you talk a certain way or are from a certain region where talking with some sort of accent is shown he will like steal your lango yk? Like the little things you say like if you're British and you say 'bruv' he'll start saying it, or if you say shit like 'goofy' or 'type shit', or insert other things, he'll say it. Even if he doesn't know what it means he js wants to impress you so bad!!

Speaking of which, he definitely impressed you w how good he is at eating puss bro, like there's certain mha guys I feel are js too good at cunnilingus.

he is one of them.

He follows you around in any store and like watches you like a hawk, you'll never get lost bc he doesn't leave your side, shopping for pads or other femininely products? Who gives a fuck you're his girlfriend!!!!

Now I feel he likes to have you sit on his face bc he likes the weight, he also likes carrying you around he def can n yk that so don't even put it past him bc he will not hesitate to pick you up so you can rest your little footsies.

He worships you like kirishima but better, you literally will not have to lift a finger w him around.

I feel as if overall w you being chubby n his gf he doesn't give af if you have weight or not, he js wants you to like him n call him your little malewife.

Speaking of wife I feel he can't cook for shit but is trying to learn for you.

Kiss his neck make him soak his shorts in precum.

..............................................

AN: yk I had to go all out w my baby zuzubear my little twinky malewife, I love me some him. I might make a pt 2 really depends.

[mywritersmind]

TELL ME IF YOU HATE ME - KA12

summary : kimi has a crush and a shit way of dealing with it, you think he hates you.

listen up : not proof read lolz! requests are open!!

word count : 1683

⋆｡‧˚⋆

The cars zoom past me as I press my finger down and a series of clicks sounds from my camera. I smile, holding my camera up and making sure I got the shot I wanted.

I did.

I see a flash of red by the garage which makes me breathe out, Ollie just crashed and I know it freaked him out. I put my eye to my camera again, zooming in so I can see if he’s okay.

He is.

I snap some far photos of the garages, passing Ferrari, then McLaren, and right as I'm about to skip over Mercedes, something catches my eye.

Lewis isn’t the one who gets out of his car, but a smaller boy with a mess of brown curls. He claps one of the pit crew members on the back and smiles. As he turns to face the track, I get a full view of his face.

Kimi Antonelli.

I had forgotten about the boy who’s driving with Mercedes next year. Ollie was talking my ear off about it last week but still… I guess I was so focused on shooting the cars that I didn’t realize who was in it.

I snap a photo of him, the light hitting his face perfectly as he takes a deep breath.

I’ve never met him, but I was forced to follow Prema by Ollie so I know he fits into Ollie’s odd life perfectly.

I walk back into the ferrari garage, smiling at my boss who takes my camera from me. I’m doing an internship, specifically with Ferrari's media team. Once they found out I like photography, they let me have a camera and media access.

I smile at Ollie who shoots me a thumbs up, letting me know he’s okay. I end up eating alone while scrolling on my phone, some people walk past but because free practice 2 is happened, most people are watching.

I take a bite of my salad and scroll once more. I get a weird feeling after my third bite, and when I look up, it’s the last thing I expect.

Kimis there.

He’s still in his race suit, his hair messy and a water bottle in his hand. His eyes get big when I turn to him. I’m about to raise my hand to wave but he spins around and bolts in the other direction.

I laugh out loud but when I look around, no one’s there to have seen it.

That was… weird.

⋆༺

“Hey, Y/n!” Ollie yells to me across the paddock, he’s standing with Kimi and Jack Doohan. I smile and wave, saying goodbye to who I was speaking with, and flipping my hair over my shoulder before making my way over to them.

“Hey! Happy Quali day!” I smile at them, especially Jack because I haven’t seen him all weekend.

“What are you up to today?” The australian asks me, his hands in his pockets.

“Taking pictures mostly, trying to get a bad one of Charles, and watching Quali. How about you guys?” I turn pointedly towards Ollie and Kimi but the Italian has his eyes pointed elsewhere and his mouth shut.

“Kimi and I.” Ollie grips Kimis shoulder and practically forces him to look at me, he smiles softly but looks back at Ollie as he talks, “are doing the same! Minus the photos and stuff. Wanna grab lunch with us later?”

I nod, pulling out my phone as I get a call, “Shit, i’m so late! See you guys later!”

⋆༺

Quali is fun and the Mexican fans are absolutely exhilarating. After getting caught up with photos, I finally met Ollie and Kimi in the Ferrari hospitality.

Except there’s no Kimi.

I raise a brow as we sit down, “Does Kimi not like me?”

Ollie moves his food around, “Uh… I don’t think so. Why?”

I shrug, “I just get the feeling he doesn’t really enjoy my company. Which hasn’t been much around him.”

Ollie frowns, “No! He just had to shoot something for Mercedes. He wanted to come.”

⋆༺

You know those times where you wish you could go back in time just five seconds? That’s how I feel right now.

“No!” I yell as Kimi turns the corner with four coffees in his hands and runs directly into me. “Fuck!” I back away from him, shaking off my hands instantly.

“Ah!” He does the same, looking up at me slowly, “I am so sorry…” This is the first time he speaks to me? Seriously!?

I take a breath, trying to gain control of my mind that’s screaming. I peel off my sweater, luckily my shirt underneath is untouched.

“I- Shit.” I groan and wipe my arms off with my sweater, “What are you, an errand boy!? I thought I was the one with an internship.” He laughs at this, then slaps his hand over his mouth.

“I’m genuinely so sorry.” He shakes his head, everything on me now smelling like coffee. I look at his shirt which is partly splashed.

“It’s not fine but It wasn’t on purpose.” I shrug, just staring down at the coffee cups.

“I’m such an idiot.” He groans, “Look, I’ll buy you a coffee to make it up to you.”

I smile slightly, crossing my arms, “Coffee in Ferrari hospitality is free. I’m assuming it’s the same for Mercedes.” He shakes his head, looking horrified.

“That shit is gross. I know a place.”

The ‘Place’ in question is in the general admission area. He pulls on my ferrari hat for extra security and grabs our coffees quickly.

“I actually can’t believe you’re wearing red.” We walk the back way, laughing. Maybe he doesn’t hate me? Or maybe he does and the coffee was all apart of some scheme.

He side eyes me, “Neither can I.” He pulls it off of his head, “Toto would kill me.”

Ollie finds us the second we step foot in the paddock, “Hey! Don’t tell me you became friends without me! Do not forget that I started this!”

“Yeah ok, Ol- I’ll give you friendship creds.” I pat his shoulder as he frowns.

⋆༺

It’s dark by the time I head out of the paddock, yawning, I notice Kimi on his phone. “Hey!” I say, smiling as he looks up at me.

Except his face does that weird thing again.

His cheeks go red and he looks like he’s forcing a smile. “Hi.” He says softly.

“Good day?” He nods, looking back at his phone and clearing his throat.

“Yeah.” He keeps it quick before walking away, “Bye.”

“Bye…?” Okay. So I don’t think I'm going crazy now because that was one weird ass conversation. If you can even call it that.

⋆༺

I wake up on race day and do my morning ritual, scrolling on instagram. I don’t go through all of my notifications often, but today something caught my eye.

Liked by Kimi Antonelli

The post is laughable, it’s from two years ago, Ollie and I were celebrating our birthdays since they fall on the same day.

Weird, Again.

I get ready and head out even though that stupid like is on my mind the whole time.

As if the universe is sending a message, I walk into the paddock at the same time as Kimi. He’s talking to his team member in fast italian and I ignore the fact that it’s 100% hot and focus on the fact that he 100% ignored me!

I call Ollie immediately, “Your friend hates me.”

I hear him laugh on the other side of the phone, “Kimi?”

“See! You already know who I'm talking about!” I groan as I enter Ferrari hospitality.

“Y/n. I think you just make him nervous.”

I stop dead in my tracks, “What?”

“Look, I absolutely love you. But you have a total resting bitch face!” I scoff at him even though I know it’s true, “He sees you taking photos a lot and even though I try to get him to talk to you, he’s like scared or some shit. I think he thinks you’re pretty too.”

I hang up.

⋆༺

I watch from the garage, spirits are high but I find myself distracted as Kimis face comes up on the screen.

Why is he so cute?

I bite my lip and think. I want him to like me. I want him to be friends with me like how he is with Ollie! So why can’t he see that? I mean, there’s a possibility he just doesn’t like me.

In that case, that’s fine! I just want to know.

My thoughts are how I find myself cornering him with my arms crossed and my actual bitch face on.

“Um… yes?” He looks scared.

“Do you not like me, or something?” He frowns, “I mean- If you don’t, that’s fine! But I don’t fuck with people who aren’t honest. Because I know i’m not completely likable to everyone and genuinely I don’t care if you don’t like me but I sorta hope you do because Ollie is my friend and Ollie is your friend and he wants us to be friends!” I take a breath.

Kimi just blinks, “I do like you.”

I roll my eyes.

“I just… felt embarrassed.” I raise a brow. Embarrassed? “I dumped coffee on you! And then I liked that post which had Ollie telling me to stop screaming into my pillow.” I laugh at that. “I just… I'm not good with pretty girls.”

That has me frozen.

“And you’re like scary pretty.”

I laugh, smiling, “You’re totally boosting my ego right now.” He just called me pretty.

He rolls his eyes, standing up straighter, “I’m sorry for being awkward.”

I sigh dramatically, “It’s fine.” I flip my hair over my shoulder, smirking, “My good looks just stuns people sometimes-”

He pushes my shoulder, “Oh fuck off!” I laugh with him, his cheeks red again, “Can I make it up to you?”

I bite my lip, hiding my smile, “Pick me up at 8.”

[imdoingsortagay]

And They Were Roommates

Summary: Rio get's a roommate in you and suddenly she can't function.

Warnings: Smut so 18+ , Rio doing suspicious shit, Top!Rio Vidal, Bottom!reader, pet names with this women, biting, some fluff, aftercare ( because it's important),

Word count: 3.4k

a/n: i was gonna spend a good week on this fic fuck it you get it now because my professors are already on midterm talk. also thank @yourlocalsaiko for the funny ask comment they left on the sneak peek of this for influencing me to finish this. And also happy birthday to @harknessdoll. If this does good maybe a part 2 or little series ????? who knows

Happy reading

Renting a small cottage in the middle of the woods, well not middle maybe like 10 miles away from town seemed like a good idea at the time. No having to deal with noisy neighbors, having a cute little driveway to not share with anyone and not to mention not being woken up to traffic. 

It sounded like the perfect thing until you heard a loud bang that woke you from your slumber, who in the fuck was in your cottage. 

“ Fucking hell,” you mumble to yourself. Good thing Kate had recommended buying that bat incase anyone came in, bedtime you do need to actually buy a weapon of some sort or at least invest in some security. The noise gets louder as you make your way to the kitchen, hear what seems to be a lady humming a tune while she’s looking for something to eat in the fridge. 

“ You leave for a couple of years to explore and someone can think they can just move in ? In my cottage? In my home?” She mumbles to herself. 

“ IM RENTING THIS PLACE YOU ASS” you yell as you try to hit her but her reflexes are faster than you. The lady quickly grabs the bat from you, throwing it somewhere in the kitchen but what she doesn’t expect you to do is bite her back. 

“ OWWWWWWWWWWW” 

Your smile fades quickly when the intruder quickly pins you to the kitchen floor preventing you from moving or biting her again. 

“ Who the fuck are you and why are you even in my house” She asks you

“ Someone posted this place on a realtor site to rent and he’s been renting it to me for the past 6 months,” you explain,” can you let me go now, I promise not to bite you again I swear”. 

“ Just cause I might have abandoned this place 40 years ago doesn’t mean some stupid man can come and rent it to some random person,” she tells you. 

“ Does this mean I need to find another place to live?” You say after a bit of silence which makes the woman giggle. She felt bad that you didn’t know this was her home but it had been years since she had shared her place with anyone besides her ex partner. 

“ If you give me whoever rented this place from you I might let you stay,” she pauses a bit ,” whatever your name is “. 

“ Y/n and no totally will do that, he kind of gave me the ick when he was showing me places too. Like he recommended me this house in New Jersey but the vibe was off so I said no then he was flirting with me way too-“ the mystery woman covers your mouth to prevent you from yapping anymore.

“ Gonna visit this man right away in the morning y/n, he sounds terrible,” and she leaves you to head to the other bedroom,”

“ Wait what’s your name ?” 

“ Rio,” she pauses dramatically ,” Rio Vidal, have a goodnight babe”. 

________________________

After the weird encounter with Rio, she had left around 9am to go talk with Anthony the realtor, not telling you anything else besides a bye. Left you with the cottage for most of the day to finish some emails for work, clean up the mess from late in the night and even make a chicken soup for Rio, or at least for you if she didn’t eat meat. Just as a thank you for not kicking her. 

“ Get Norm the email about next month’s projection sales,” you read around to nobody inside, wondering when she’d come back. 

She’s a grown ass woman who looks like she can easily defend herself. There’s no need to worry where she might be going. Rio has known you for less than half a day I doubt she’s gonna tell you her whereabouts. 

“ God that man is such a crybaby,” Rio announces as you hear the door open, pushing the relief away when she comes towards the kitchen to the smell of chicken soup. It smelled really good, she forgot how it was to not be the only person in this home or at least have someone even cooking at all. 

Rio sees you in the kitchen, trying your very best to act chill around. 

“ Here’s this back, I took care of Bob for you, “ she casually tells you as she goes towards the stove to serve herself some soup. 

“ What do you mean ‘ take care of bob ‘ Rio? “ 

“ Don’t worry about it babe” and when you look in the bad you find a large amount of money. 

“ All your rent money from the past couple of months from that fucking idiot” rio explains , you were gonna ask either way. 

“ so does this mean you’re kicking me out ? I can pay rent don’t worry or if not I can try to find another place to move to since this is your house and all”. 

Rio thinks about it. On one hand , she’s had this house for hundreds of years so there’s no need for you to pay rent. But on the other hand, you really didn’t know that this was her house so it would be rude to expect you to leave so soon. 

You were a little cute after all so this could work in her way if she wanted. 

“ I’ll let you stay on one condition,” you nod, too afraid to say anything due to her very serious demeanor. 

“ Keep doing what you’ve been doing around the place, don’t disturb me when I’m in my room and when I need a favor you do it,” she states. Should be simple enough for you to follow. 

“ You got it pretty ?” 

“ Yes “ 

“ Yes what ? “ 

“ Yes Ma’am?” You say more as a question than a statement. 

“ Good job honey” she coos, paying close attention to the way that you blushed a bit being called the pet name. 

————

“ What the fuck are you even doing up at 7am?” 

“ Good morning to you too princess,” she says as you walk into the kitchen, your slumber being interrupted by whatever she was doing inside. 8am was enough time for you to get ready for work, especially since you do remote work for the most part. 

It’s only been a day since Rio had let you stay and to stay the change was a bit weird for you was an understatement. 

Both of you have mostly been lightly joking with each other half of the time, maybe a bit of flirting to be honest but she’s pretty cute. Doesn’t help that she’s always calling you all these pet names. 

“ Breakfast is on the table babe,” you see a perfectly set plate on the table for you,” based on what you had stocked up in the fridge”.

“ Thank you Rio,”. 

“ No problem hot stuff” she says in the sweetest tone, leaving you alone in the kitchen to question what she might have planned.

———————

One week living with Rio and so far, she’s been wonderful as a roommate. Helps with dishes when you make dinner, keeps the living room spotless, a little loud at night but nothing you can’t handle. 

For a Saturday night, Rio was unsure why you decided to spend it at home and not out like most humans would do. 

“ Reading a book and enjoying some wine ? Boring “, Rio announces as she walks into the living room in her casual fit. Choosing to wear an oversized t shirt of hers and simple pair of shorts. 

“ It’s too far for me to go out rio,” you tell the woman sitting next to you, not bothering to tell her to move. It felt kind of nice to have the other woman sit next to you and not just a pillow of yours like most of the time. 

“ Awe someone as pretty as you doesn’t ever go out?” She coos. 

“ Not when it’s again, way too far to travel to a bar,” you repeat to her and before you can even get a sip of your wine she grabs it out of your hand. 

“ What the fuck ?” You yell back at her and before you can grab it back the woman in front of you chugs it. 

“ We need something stronger babe,” she tells you as she finishes the last of the drink with no shame,” follow me “. 

You don’t say anything when she grabs your hand, leading you to the one room in the cottage that she forbid you to going into, her room. 

Even before she had shown up back to her place, Bob had told you the room could not be unlocked and the windows were covered to anyone passing by and you felt weird about trying to unlock it yourself. When Rio had shown backup you never even got a peek at the inside of her room either so you were a bit excited to see what it was like. 

Was it just her room ? What colors did she choose? Is it decorated all nice or a bit of a mess ?  Did she have anyone in it before you were ? 

Wait, you guys are just roommates you can’t be thinking about that way about Rio at all. 

“ Close your eyes I can’t have you knowing how to open my room door can we princess???” She teases you. God you were not gonna survive this. 

A couple of seconds later you hear the door click open, Rio grabs your hand to lead you into her room and moves you a bit so you can stand in the middle of it. 

“ Open those pretty eyes for me,” you give yourself a couple of seconds to adjust to the light in the room to see the woman. Of course the wall are in her signature green color, a nice dark green to compliment the rest of the room. Paintings you assumed she made herself in the spare time, a mini fridge with what you assumed is where the alcohol she was talking about and a nice queen sized bed in the middle of the room.

“ Your’re the first person that I’ve had in here since my ex by the way y/n,” she starts off, pointing at the bed for you to sit in,” Your room was a guest room we’d use for our friends and this was our room. “ 

“ What happened to your ex ? “ you as casually and Rio makes a face at your question. 

“ Wait fuck I didn’t meant to intrude I am so-“ 

“ Baby it’s all good with me,” she assures you,” we broke up after ten years together because she wanted to explore other option in the world or whatever she fucking meant by that”. Least you know she’s single. 

“ Last time I heard about her, she was living in some town with her current girlfriend and their two cats. Which good for her I guess, I mean she was never the committed type when we were together, all I say is good fucking luck to her current gal or whatever,” she mumbles the last part while looking for a specific alcohol bottle for the two of you. The atmosphere room was pleaseant, Rio must have worked a lot on the room to make it as comfy as she could. 

“ You have any ex’s you wanna talk about y/n ? We only know the basics things about each other” Rio questions after finding the specific bottle of alcohol she was hiding for special occasions. She quickly finds her way onto her bed, placing herself on the right side of where you were sitting, as always leaving no space between the two of you. 

“ How strong is that bottle of alcohol in your hand?” You ask and rio smiles. 

This was gonna be fun. 

_________________________

“ You did not fucking steal Lilia’s jewelry from her cause she accidentally stole some of your food ?” You laugh as she tells the story. 

“ She was being petty with me for a tiny thing I did when we were living together y/n, and all I did was just give her a piece of her medicine is all” she shrugs then takes a big swig of the bottle infant of you both. It had been three hours since Rio had let you in her room and the both of you were talking about whatever as a way to get to know each other. An hour into this hangout session or whatever you both want to call it, rio had suggested you both cuddle with each other and in your tipsy mind you decided why it. 

On the inside, Rio appeared to you as quiet, funny and a little bit mysterious if you had to be honest with yourself. What you didn’t know was that she had been internally been freaking out since she found you here in the cottage. She felt bad kicking you out but it had been a couple of years since she’s had anyone here since Agatha. Rio hadn’t had anyone in the house since then and even if she did for a one night stand, she’d use the guest room to do it and not her own bedroom, making up all sorts of excuses as to why she didn’t have anyone in her own bedroom when she knew the real reason. 

She was afraid. 

Agatha had been her first relationship all those years ago when they met in Salem, built this house together from the ground up, shared so many happy memories together here then decided she wanted to leave Rio because she wanted to do more than just stay in Salem. She was other that woman but her insecurities got the best of her and she hasn’t had a meaningful relationship since. 

“ I don’t know how that would could fucking leave you when you look so fucking hot,” you blurt out of nowhere which takes Rio out of her thoughts. Well, at least she knows that you feel the same way. 

“ You think I’m hot ? “ Rio asks quietly enough for you to hear. 

“ The mysterious demeanor of yours, the hot ass outfit you had when you got here, and not to mention when I first met you in not to good circumstances you kind of made me blush so much” you explain while rubbing her arm. Her mind was going places as you were cuddling up next to her, yapping about how hot she was and then casually rubbing her arm as well.

Both of you were drunk and she wanted to test the waters and see how much she can get out of you, no harming trying to get any information out of you. 

“ How about you come sit on top of me while we talk then princess? “ She asks with a bit of a smile. 

You don’t think about it too much, Rio guiding you on her lap so you don’t accidentally do anything. 

“ Rio did I ever tell you that you look super nice from this angle , like really nice,” you giggle. It’s been years since anyone has said anything nice about her and she’ stumped with how to respond.

“ Can say the same thing about you sweet thing ,” the woman under you says in the most cool way, only eliciting a giggle from you and a confused face from her. 

“ Did you forget to flirt Rio? for a witch who’s been alive longer than I have , you sure don’t know how to flirt with someone when the opportunity arises, “ you say in a joking manner to the older woman. 

“ I might not know how to flirt but there is something else I can do babe,” she teases. 

“ Oh and what’s that honey?” You ask in a sweet tone. 

In an instant, Rio quickly changes positions so that she’s on top of you, pinning your arms above your head so that you don’t do anything with your hands. 

“ You look super pretty under me princess,” she holds your chin in place with one hand while other hand is still pinning you into the mattress, not that you’re complaining or anything. 

“ Just fucking kiss me Vidal,” you beg and you feel the other woman’s lips on yours in an instant. She forgot how good it felt to be in bed with someone she actually had some sort of attraction to. She can’t handle the way that you whine into the kiss, wondering what other pretty noises she can get out of you. 

“ God do you know how many times I fucked myself in this bed baby? We’ve barely known each other but your’re something special baby,” she tells you as she starts to kiss your neck, no shame in leaving marks all over your neck for anyone to see. The sound of your moans and whines while she marks your neck, Rio feeling you grind into her body to set any sort of friction and the feeling of her hands roaming your body make you never want to leave her bed anytime soon. 

“ Take this thing off of your body baby,” she says helping you get up,” I wanna see all of you”. You chose the right night to not wear a bra because the moment she sees that you had nothing underneath your shirt, Rio is on your tits. Sucking on your left nipple while tasting your other nipple with no mercy. 

“ Be good for your mistress while I suck on these titties babe,” she orders,” then maybe I’ll fuck you with my fingers, or you can grind on my thigh so I can see you fall apart above me”. 

“ Fingers! Please! I’ll be good for your mistress” you whine under her touch, you would let Rio let you do anything to you if it meant being pleasured by her . 

“ Good choice baby,” She says happily, her right hands going into your sleep shorts to feel just how wet you were for her. 

Still got it, she thinks to herself.

“ I didn’t even do much to you baby and your pussy is soaked,” she smirks and you moan as she continues to tease you. It won’t take long for you to cum with Rio teasing your pussy combined with her dirty talk. Rio wastes no time in taking off your shorts and underwear before she inserts two fingers into your wet pussy, groaning at the way her fingers go in easily. 

“ Maybe next time we do this you can let Mistress eat this pussy,” she says and you let out a long moan,” god just the way your finger are taking me just makes me want to make you cum over and over again”. 

It doesn’t take long for you to go over the edge with her fingers going at a fast pace, Rio taking in the sight before her. Praising you as she helps you down from your high, no shame in tasting yourself on her fingers, excited for the text time she might actually be able to taste the real thing from the source. 

“Brain feels floaty Rio ,” you mumble to the other woman as she brings you a bottle of water and a small rag to clean you off. You take the bottle with no arguments as she cleans you up. Rio helps you up a bit to help you into your shirt again, internally giggling as how cute you look at her. Looking at her like she was the only person on earth. She felt happy to be seen like that from someone after years of being alone. 

“ How you doing baby?” She asks and you mumble as she pulls you closer to her body. 

“ Fine,” you yawn ,” sleepy”. 

“ Okay baby,” she chuckles,” We can talk tomorrow about us”. 

“ I’d love that Rio,” you say before you fall asleep in her arms and Rio falls asleep not long after with a big smile on her face.

[lovers-rck]

modern au where you accidentally send ellie, your bestfriend, a nude PT4

pt1 here , pt2 here , pt3 here

n/a hello y'all!!! first of all, thank you for all the support in this little series <3 i can't believe all the love that is receiving

this is an additional chapter, it's not necessary to read it if you don't want to because is all smut and it's not essential to the plot, but its made for those who enjoy read this kind of content so... enjoy!!

☆

ellie's kisses ignite your skin, wet and noisy they plant themselves on your sweaty skin thanks to the summer heat. her touch is hungry and shy at the same time, trying to engrave every part of you in her fingertips.

she can't believe what's happening. in her mind a battle rages where her thoughts fly by and don't stop. she's touching you, she's kissing you, is this real?

the fantasy she's been imagining before going to sleep for the last few months becomes reality the moment your mouth provokes a choked moan from her lips.

"ellie" you moan between kisses, a trickle of saliva connecting them each time he pulls away.

"what?" ellie murmurs in the same tone as you, her voice choked "tell me what you want."

instead of telling her what you want, you show her, and when ellie watches as you untie your bikini straps and bare your breasts ellie has to keep her mouth shut to keep from drooling. she quickly understands, and her tongue plays around your nipple, eliciting slight moans from you.

ellie massages and sucks on your breasts with a skill you never knew she possessed, and when you watch her in action, you have the urge to moan and let everyone hear how good she makes you feel, even with just one touch.

"they're better than in the picture" ellie murmurs against your skin, and you can't help but laugh. silly as always, you think.

"you idiot" she smiles and moves down to your stomach, marking a path of kisses.

"i'm just telling the truth"

you pull her hair in playful response, but when ellie lets out a choked moan you feel a warmth invade your body. your fingers play with the collar of her t-shirt, and ellie pulls it off, she has a sporty top that does wonders for your eyes.

she kisses your stomach, shamelessly sucking on your skin and leaving a trail of saliva all over you, so obscene that you feel sick for enjoying it.

"i didn't know..." you say, between moans "i didn't know this side of you."

you can hear ellie laugh as she throws off your shorts, tossing them on the floor "well, you never let me show you"

you knew what ellie's personality was like, playful, obscene and even provocative at many times, so you had an idea of what she would be like in intimacy (not that you ever imagined it...) but you were still surprised at the determination she had for her actions, how she knew where and how to touch to elicit sounds from your mouth.

her hands kneaded the soft skin of your thighs, admiring how her fingers dug into your flesh. with a sudden movement, ellie pulled you to the edge of the bed causing a giggle from you which she also joined in. "silly. i'm trying to eat you out and you're laughing."

that caused you to laugh even harder, pushing ellie's head away from your cunt with your hand – you couldn't stop laughing.

ellie bit your finger and took advantage of your complaint to grab your wrist and press it against the mattress, leaving you immobilized.

"cannibal" you said, inwardly enjoying ellie's control.

she only murmured a small "mhm", planting kisses on your inner thighs, gently biting and kissing the skin abused by her mouth. the laughter passed quickly, your hips moving towards ellie's mouth impatiently, eager for her touch.

"ellie" you murmured between moans "don't tease"

ellie left your thighs and moved back up to meet your face.

"tell me what you want" she murmured, her lips brushing against yours as she spoke "tell me what you want from me and i'll do it."

ellie could be provocative. she knew how to treat you, and over so many years of friendship she had learned to codify your personality; whiny and too proud for your own good, and of course she was going to take advantage of that once she had you the way she wanted you.

"don't do that" you murmured, looking into her eyes. she noticed how they were crystallized.

"don't be shy" she replied, leaving kisses all over your cheekbones and jaw "it's me, ellie. your best friend" she said and a playful smile planted itself on her face.

ellie really didn't need your order - she knew she could go on with her mission without you telling her, but something inside her wanted, no, needed, to hear what you wanted, almost as a confirmation that this wasn't a fever dream of hers, one where she was hallucinating.

"come on" ellie continued, one of her hands playing with the elastic of your underwear "i want to hear you"

the sensations are too much for you, so you surrender "touch me, please" you say, feeling your face flush with embarrassment "i need you"

ellie may be provocative, but she's not cruel – so as soon as she hears you, she returns to her kneeling position in front of you, grabbing your thighs and positioning them on her shoulders "that wasn't so hard, was it?"

you can't help but let out a moan as soon as you feel her fingers move your panties to the side and her tongue make contact with your intimacy. ellie's fingers sink into your flesh and hold you open before her.

the only thing that comes out of your mouth are stifled moans and groans, her movements not letting you have a breath. your hips chase her mouth and her tongue accompanies the movement - you grab her hair causing her to moan in your clit.

her mouth works wonders against your cunt. it doesn't take long before a knot in your stomach builds, creating so much pressure that you feel like you're going to explode at any moment - and you do, as you feel your climax.

ellie quickly notices thanks to the movement of your body and your moans, abandoning her actions and devoting herself to planting kisses on your thighs, caressing and helping you catch your breath.

"k know" she says, watching as your eyes are closed and your body suffer from little spasms "i'm here" you feel her hand grab your hand and caress it.

"do you want some water?" you hear ellie ask after a few seconds, lying down next to you.

you deny and grimace as you feel your wet panties "im okay, thanks" ellie nods and smiles at you. you can see her lips glistening from your juices and it's so obscene you swear you can finish again at such sight. "you have a little bit of me in your mouth" you murmur, your thumb stroking ellie's bottom lip.

"your fault" ellie answers you, lightly biting your fingertip. you let out a giggle.

the air feels heavy. the sun streaming through the window hits your almost naked body and ellie can't help but admire it once again.

"u little perv" you say as you see where her gaze was directed.

ellie rolls her eyes and reaches up to plant a small kiss on your lips "can't help it".

[muniimyg]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ bbydaddy!jk (9) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ *nsfw*

series m.list // taglist request closed

note: some smut. some angst. some fluff <3

🏷️ permanent taglist:

@joonsjuice @pamzn @defzcl @maryy1300 @whoa-jo @taetaecatboy @jksusawife @un06 @firesighgirl @rrosiitas @butterymin @parkinglot-nights @musicjournalsjdb @kissyfacekoo @jkslvsnella @vampcharxter @bloopkook @somehowukook @bbystarcandykoo

//

when you arrive home, zion is fast asleep in jungkook's arms.

you tiptoe towards them and kiss zion's forehead. he shifts a bit but jungkook automatically pats his bum. he's literally asleep, yet his daddy senses are on. you aren't sure why, but your heart tugs at the sight... that's okay, right? for you to feel some type of way when you see them asleep together in your bed?

jungkook and zion truly look so alike.

from their doe-eyes to jungkook's cheeks—even their freaking hair! you can't help it. whenever zion gets hair cuts, he looks like a little man. a mini jungkook... and who wouldn't want that? jungkook has and will always be the most handsome to you.

yet, zion acts exactly like you. it's like the biggest bite in the ass ever. his pickiness and sensitivity root from you. the way he compromises and admits defeat (rarely) are completely you. his sweetness is copied by you but his cheekiness is definitely from jungkook.

zion is the perfect mix.

sometimes your heart aches. sometimes your heart fills up with joy. sometimes it makes you second-guess everything. sometimes it gives you gentle clarity.

"where's my kiss?" jungkook murmurs, eyes still closed.

your lips curve into a tired smile.

"have you guys been sleeping in my bed for the past 2 nights?"

jungkook rubs his eyes, sitting up. he then pulls his arm away from underneath zion's head. "yeah. he wouldn't sleep on his bed and i couldn't sleep on the couch. sorry, did i overstep—"

"no," you interrupt him. "what's mine is yours. it's always been like that."

he nods.

"still waiting for my kiss..."

you roll your eyes but give in. jungkook purses his lips, waiting for yours. instead, you kiss his forehead and pinch his cheeks.

"can you put him back in his room? i've been sleep training him to be more independent... and i miss my bed. he usually climbs into bed with me by 7am anyway."

sleepily, he complies with your request.

as he leaves with zion in his arms, you grab your flimsy nightgown from your closet and go to shower. then, as you step into your bathroom, you think about your closet... it definitely was a mess when you left.. yet, everything is folded so nicely. did he organize it up for you?

huh.

as you turn the water on and step in, you can't help but wonder what will happen tonight. sure, the nightgown is an obvious tell to jungkook that you're down to fuck—but aside from that... you wonder what else he could say or do tonight that will have you tossing and turning.

truth be told, the 2 nights away that was filled with work was exhausting. like, so beyond tiring that you felt miserable. it was so weird to be indulged in work and not come home to your boys... not that jungkook has been home with you since the separation; but the thought of it... it just... it felt good.

for the first time in a while, you felt it.

the want to be together.

as in, the desire to be a family in one house... all together... all over again.

it shook you to your core.

but there was also a relief that overcame your mind. you've never been the type to fight peace anyway (which is also why you asked for a separation 8 months ago... because you didn't feel any back then).

perhaps the poets are right.

time changes things.

people change.

... and so does love.

jungkook has a fistful of your nightgown while you have a fistful of his hair.

his tongue has been nothing short of perfection against your clit. there isn't a single inch of your pussy he hasn't devoured. he does it so well too. what you said was true... him eating you out is never relaxing.

of course, jungkook knew how to tease the shit out of you. how to drag your orgasms and make you last as long as possible. if he felt mean, he'd do it until you cried from how much your pussy throbbed from the edging. god, he was so mean sometimes.

but tonight, he's so nice to you.

he flicks his tongue at all the right spots. you squirm and all he does is wrap his arms around your legs and tug you closer. moving your pelvis to the rhythm of his licks; you feel yourself tighten and the need to close your legs. so, you do so. you close your legs, burying his face deep into you.

jungkook loves it.

god, he fucking loves this.

he eats you out like there's no tomorrow. he slurps you up as if you're the freshest thing to drink. he spits in between his sucking (completely unnecessary. you're literally drenching your sheets already) because he knows you feel it. you feel the heat of his saliva and the way it drips down your folds. how nasty it must make you feel because you like it so much.

again, jungkook loves this.

"that's it, honey..." he praises you. "doing so good. so fucking pretty—y-you're just the prettiest, aren't you? you know that, right? the absolute prettiest."

"s-shut up!"

"come on! ... my little starfish," jungkook chuckles. "say you're mine and i'll let you cum tonight."

you attempt to shoot him a glare. "t-thought you're gonna b-be nice to me tonight..."

he shrugs, reaching up and brushing the sweaty strand of hair off your forehead. "i'm whatever you want me to be."

you don't answer him. instead, you moan and murmur; "fine.. fine. yours. i'm yours."

sigh.

he loves this.

he loves you.

there is literally no other way of putting it.

he loves every hair pull you accidentally jolt to doing. he loves the way you mumble his name in between hitched breaths. he loves the way you watch as his head bobs up and down, right and left, and right in the middle. he loves the way you react to his nose, gliding and causing your pussy to pulsate like crazy. he loves the way you gasp when he slips his fingers inside you and the way your walls tighten around him.

it's everything.

to see you completely fall apart against his touch. to feel the way you let go of his hair and search for his hands, intertwine them, and need them the way you do. to see you come so undone; you release everything you have. you squirt, making a mess on his fingers. your gasps come out like stutters, but your moans take over.

a huge relief is lifted off your shoulders.

you can always count on jungkook for the most mind-blowing orgasm. he just knows your body so well. he does it so good. he's so good to you.

as you catch your breath, jungkook gets up to grab a towel from your cabinet. he returns to you, wiping your inner thighs and then your folds. he then lifts you up a bit to place the towel underneath. without an exchange of words, you open your arms and he collapse in them.

there, you two lay.

his head is on your chest as you play with his hair.

mumbling against your skin, he asks; "what time is it?"

"like.. 1am?"

"oh," jungkook yawns. "kinda early."

though it's true, you know you aren't as young as before. before, you two used to leave the house at 1am... now, with zion's routine and your career; you were usually asleep by 11pm.

"you're gonna regret saying that when zion comes in at 7am and jumps on the bed." you laugh, tugging on his hair a bit. "and when he demands for pancakes so you have to get up and cook them—"

"i can cook them."

"i know," you remind him. "you like making them heart-shaped... cos you like to show off."

"cos i love you, actually."

"yeah, yeah."

he chuckles and you kiss the top of his head.

then, a silence falls upon you two. a part of you wonders if he's asleep already and if you should shut your eyes and follow... but then, he speaks.

"are you okay?" jungkook asks you, as gentle as possible. "you just... you seem really stressed these days. you're handling everything well, by the way.. i just want to check up on you... cos i can take zion on the days you're busy, you know? it's no problem. i can also come by and help out in the house—"

"yeah," you think for a moment. "did you do my laundry? i saw everything in my closet was folded."

"i did."

"okay. thank you. you didn't have to."

"i know."

"okay."

jungkook sighs. "so... are you okay?"

you pause.

"should i quit?"

jungkook pulls away from you. he sits up and stares at you.

"are you kidding me?" is all he manages to say even though a million and one things run through his mind. "is that what you really want to do?"

"i d-don't..." you shake your head, eyes beginning to gloss with tears. "i just.. i feel so drained? like i'm not here for zion enough.. like i'm not present in moments with him. sometimes i cook breakfast without even realizing i'm burning the food because i'm daydreaming of a different life—i d-don't know. i don't know anymore. i'm so tired of winning all the time too. does that even... does that even make sense?"

jungkook looks at you sincerely. with all his heart, he can feel your pain and wants to do anything and everything to ease it. he knew something was up with you. he fucking knew it. you were like this before you asked for a break. you were like this when your best friend moved away. you were like this before graduating from law school.

it's a lot.

he knows it.

you have a lot on your plate and you've always been on the go. jungkook has been fortunate enough to have had time in his career and projects to pace himself... whereas you've always been the best of the best. the demands are crazy and coming home to wanting to be the best mom possible (which you are) must be completely exhausting.

he can't imagine how stressed you must be. he can't imagine what it's like to be you. he can't imagine what it's like to not be with you in moments like these.

"hey," he reaches out for you. you tighten your lips before burying your face to his chest. he wraps his arms around you, stroking your hair and easing your mind with his words. "you're brilliant, you know that? you have completely paved such a life for zion. you did it for yourself too... and it's tiring. i can't imagine how tired you are, honey. it's okay to rest and it's okay to need help. it's okay to put things down and it's okay to pick them up again when you're ready. you don’t have to do big things just because you’re capable of it… doing the right small things is good too. it’s more than enough, actually. ___, if you want to quit, if you want to lose, if you want to not want anything—so be it. do it all or do nothing at all... do it and let me be beside you through it all. i'm always going to believe in everything you do. i'm always going to give you what you need. i don’t want you to burn out. i’m here to protect you, you know? i'm always just... going to be... and you're... you're always going to—"

"shut up." you place your finger on his lips. "c-can you just hold me tonight or something? put me to sleep."

"okay, baby. should i sing you a lullaby too?" he chides as he kisses the top of your head. a little sleepy, he shuts his eyes as he rests his chin on top. as you pull yourself closer to him, you rest your head on his chest.

"... and can you leave more clothes here?"

jungkook's eyes shoot open. his heart flutters and in every possible way there is; he falls in love with you all over again.

"y-yeah," he clears his throat, attempting to hold himself together. "i can do that. i can leave more clothes here."

"okay," you yawn. "i love you... always."

"always," he repeats. "... forever too! i love you forever."

you snicker, teasing him about how cheesy he is. he laughs, blaming you for starting it. soon, you two talk about each other's day and little things zion does that make your heart glow. suddenly, then all at once, you two fall asleep.

it's beautiful, isn't it?

to be falling in love at the same time (once again).

you were right.

not that jungkook doubted you or anything—but you were right.

zion climbed into bed with you two at 7am. his eyes were barely open as he dragged mr kookie along with him. a few whines escaped his lips as he's frustrated and half asleep. to soothe his son, jungkook pulls him in and wraps him in his embrace.

you're still asleep when this happens but the slight movements make you responsive. shifting, you put your arm around jungkook and nuzzle yourself into the crook of his neck. he stretches his neck and kisses your forehead. then, he turns to his other side and does the same to zion.

zion then lets out a sleepy giggle from jungkook's kiss. his eyes are fluttering shut, but it's obvious he's fighting the sleepiness.

"dada?"

"mhm?"

mid yawn, zion asks; "you stay?"

"i'm staying."

jungkook breathes this moment in and holds you and zion tighter. he can't believe how lucky he is. how blessed he is for this second chance. how happy he is for this new beginning.

he’s so grateful for his forever and always.

[selencgraphy]

— 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐒

prompt drabble series - nonverbal ways to say ‘i love you’

5 - remembering a trivial fact about them

prompts from promptingyou

PAIRING: logan howlett x gn!reader

TAGS: they/them pronouns for reader, fluff, actions speak louder than words is logan’s strong suit, tall!logan bc i love hugh jackman :)

A/N: deadpool and wolverine revived my love for logan so this is just self-indulgent bc i love him so so much. the x-men movies were my gateway into marvel so i just have to show my man some love yk? happy reading <3

WORD COUNT: 597

masterlist || request box <3

You and Logan weren’t that close. Aside from having rooms right next to each other and being co-workers, you didn’t know much about him. Rarely were you ever in a room with him when it was just you two. 

Heading over to the kitchen for a midnight snack, you stumble upon him smoking by the window. “Can't sleep either?" you asked as you quietly padded across the wood. 

Logan merely grunted in response, taking a drag of his cigar. Grabbing the tub of your favorite ice cream from the freezer, you took a seat at the counter. The tub was practically almost empty so you resorted to eating straight out of it. "Are those really any better than regular cigarettes?" you carefully asked in hopes of breaking the awkward silence—well, at least to you it was awkward. At your question, he turned over his shoulder and leaned to sit down against the window sill, his eyebrows furrowed a little deeper than they normally were.

"Haven't tried anything but these," he replied, glancing down at it before looking back at you, a hint of confusion in his eyes.

"What?"

"You're the first person who's caught me smoking inside that didn’t immediately remind me of Chuck's stupid rule."

"I mean… it is a good rule considering this whole place is built of wood," you joked, taking another bite of ice cream before speaking again. "I'm not one for rules either anyways. It'd be a bit hypocritical of me to get on your case, don't you think?"

He hummed, the tiniest smirk on his face at your nonchalance. He'd been living and teaching (begrudgingly) at the mansion for a while now, but a lot of the kids and other X-Men were still intimidated by him. His tough guy façade certainly didn’t help much but that’s just how he was used to living after being alive for almost 200 years. But that never seemed to deter you. Putting out his cigar, he started to head back to his room. "Don't stay up too late, bub," he muttered as he passed you.

"Night, Logan,” you called over your shoulder, scraping the sides of the tub as you finished it out. Throwing it away, you made a mental note to grab more whenever you went back out to get groceries.

A couple days later…

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath as you made your way down to the kitchen. It was pretty early in the day, but you weren’t one to let the time of day deter you from snacking on a few scoops of ice cream. Then you remembered. You had eaten the last bit the other night when you ran into Logan and had yet to restock. Damn.

So it came as a surprise to see yet another full tub in the freezer when you went to rummage through it to find something else to satiate your sweet tooth. A post-it was taped to the top of it, big black letters scrawled across it.

For Y/N. If you’re not them, do not touch this. - Logan

Your face brightened as you read it. Sure, it wasn’t that sweet of a message, but you’d take what you could get. Pulling it out, you realized it was the same exact flavor—your favorite flavor—and brand you loved. You’d barely spent five minutes with each other the other night, but he remembered.

“I gotta thank him later,” you thought to yourself as you sat down, your day made by the gesture. Maybe your efforts to befriend him weren’t a lost cause after all.

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (35/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Lets get drunk - with Nightmare Coladas.

Warnings: fluff, alcohol consumption

Word Count: 3.2k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: love you. feedback is appreciated!

You are sitting on the sun bed when Charles rejoins you. He is holding a tray in his hands and as he places it on the floor next to you, you see that it is filled with sliced fruit. In addition to a plate of watermelon, there is a bowl of grapes, strawberries and raspberries.

“A good foundation is essential if you want to get drunk,” he grins and lies down next to you on the sun bed, a healthy distance between you. 

You raise an eyebrow. "Wouldn't it be better to eat something greasy then? Like fries or pizza?” you ask, helping yourself to a strawberry. 

“That's just the beginning,” he defends himself and nibbles on a piece of watermelon. “There are fries, mozzarella sticks and chicken nuggets in the oven.”

You have to grin. “Sounds like lunch for a five-year-old.”

Charles shrugs and pops a raspberry in his mouth. “You'll be able to drink like a grown-up in no time.”

“Touché.” 

The two of you lie next to each other in silence, enjoying the last rays of sunshine while you eat the fruit and wait for the timer on Charles' cell phone to beep. The water splashes against the sides of the boat, the smell of the sea hits your nose and if you didn't know that tomorrow is Christmas, you'd think it was a beautiful summer evening. 

“What would you like to drink?” Charles asks. 

You turn your head in his direction. “Do you have any sweet white wine?”

He nods. “I had Thomas bring your cheap wine,” he grins. "He didn't find it at first. Apparently you can only get it in the supermarket and not in a wine store."

You purse your lips. “Hey. The wine tastes good,” you say with mock offence, trying to suppress the thought that Charles sent Thomas out to get your favorite wine. Very thoughtful. “What are you about to drink?”

"There are quite a few drinks. Maybe I'll make myself a cocktail,” he considers, popping a strawberry into his mouth. "Maybe a piña colada? Or a sex on the beach?"

The way the word 'sex' rolls off his tongue makes the blood in your veins run hot. You bite into a piece of watermelon. “When are the fries ready?”

Just as you've said it, Charles' phone rings. He gets up and leaves the sun bed. “I'll be right back.”

You turn to him. “Do you want me to help you?” You're almost on your feet when Charles waves you off. 

“ It's all right.” 

While he disappears into the interior of his yacht, you also leave the sun bed to grab your camera and laptop, but instead of lying back on the sun bed at the back of the boat, you move the party around the bow, where there is another sun bed. From here, you have a wonderful view of Monaco - even if it is still some distance away from you. 

You start to edit a photo of Charles when he rejoins you - fries, mozzarella sticks and chicken nuggets on a tray. 

“Here you are,” he smiles, setting the food down. “I thought you'd jumped in the water and swum home.”

"Are you crazy? I'm sure the sea is freezing cold,” you reply and put your laptop to one side so you can grab a nugget. “I've already started editing a picture of you, by the way.”

Your friend plops down on the sun bed next to you. "And?” he asks. “Do I look good?”

You roll your eyes. “You always do,” you reply jokingly, hoping that he can't hear the truth in your words. 

“I know,” he grins and pops a chip in his mouth. "But seriously. Do you think the pictures are any good? For my Instagram profile, I mean."

Charles is a natural model. With his big eyes, deep dimples and beaming smile, he could even advertise haemorrhoid cream and look great doing it.

“Absolutely,” you smile and push your camera over to him. “See for yourself.”

While Charles looks at the many pictures on the small display, you continue to edit some pictures on your laptop. They are all good - thanks to his looks - but somehow none of them reflect Charles as you see him. They look posed, which isn't a bad thing in itself, but you had hoped to capture him with your lens in such a way that you could almost feel the closeness to him and his warmth. 

But you don't tell him that, after all he has to decide for himself which pictures he would like to put on the internet. 

“What do you think of this?” he asks and shows you the display. In the photo, he is standing at the wheel, his sunglasses are perched on his nose and he is smiling broadly over his shoulder, as if someone has said something funny. It's a good picture - objectively speaking.

“It's good,” you reply and bite into a mozzarella stick. The cheese almost burns the roof of your mouth, but you try not to let it show. 

Charles raises his eyebrow. “Just ‘good’?” he asks, looking at the picture again. “Okay, I'll find another one then.”

You shake your head vehemently. "No, Charles. It's a good photo, really,” you assure him. 

He's not buying it. “But?”

You purse your lips and shrug your shoulders. “It - it looks so posed,” you answer honestly. "But maybe it only looks like that to me because I know it's fake, you know? Maybe I just can't see it."

He looks back from you to the display. “I know what you mean.” He presses his tongue into his cheek. "I'll take another one then. They're your photos. And I want you to feel comfortable with them too." 

You smile at him. You didn't know he cared so much about your opinion. "That's nice. Thank you."

Charles pops a French fry into his mouth. "Keep eating. Your wine is cold and just waiting for you to drink it."

You continue to eat in silence - Charles continues to rummage through your camera while you edit some pictures. The silence between you is comfortable and every now and then you smile at each other to reassure each other that everything is fine. 

When the last of the fries has been eaten, Charles stands up. "Very nice. Now it's time to start drinking,” he winks at you as he leaves the sun bed. “You want your wine, I guess?”

You nod. “Thomas shouldn't have made the trip to the supermarket for nothing,” you grin and cross your arms behind your head. You look at him. "But I think one glass is enough for now. Maybe I'd like to try one of your cocktails afterwards."

“Of course, Madame,” Charles replies and bows to you playfully like a servant to his queen. "Can I bring anything else? A pillow, perhaps?" 

You nod, beaming. “That would be great. Then the bed here will be even more comfortable."

Without another word, he disappears, the bowls and plates in his hands, while you close the laptop and put it to the side. You consider whether you should put the camera away too, but decide against it. Perhaps there would be another opportunity to take photos of Charles later.

A few minutes later, Charles reappears. He puts your wine glass down next to you and throws you two cushions. "Make yourself comfortable. I'm sure you'll want to stay here longer."

You look at him in confusion. “Why?”

With a nod of his head, he points to the shore. "When it gets dark - and I mean dark - Monaco lights up beautifully. And I don't want to deny you the sight,” he smiles. "I'm going to make myself a cocktail. Do you want me to bring you your sweater right away?"

“Yes, thank you,” you answer him. “And you really don't need any help?” you ask uncertainly. It's nice of him to go to all this trouble to make you feel comfortable, but you feel a bit like you're taking advantage of him. 

But Charles disagrees. "Stay put. You're my guest on this boat. I'll take care of everything while you lie there and look pretty." 

Before you can react to his words, he has disappeared again. 

Look pretty? Charles thinks you're pretty? 

You try to ignore his words, but they keep bubbling up. When he said he was afraid of losing you, he hit you hard. You would never let anything separate you again. You need him too much for that - and it seems he needs you too. Even if it's not the same way. But that's okay, you tell yourself. You'd rather have a piece of him than nothing at all. 

When he rejoins you, you seem to have almost forgotten his compliment. Or at least pushed it aside. 

“Here,” he says, handing you your sweater before setting some things down behind your head. There are several bottles, an ice bucket and a couple of shakers in the large basket. Then he carefully sits down next to you with his cocktail in hand. As he tastes it, he makes a brief grimace. 

You have to grin. “Too strong?” you ask him. 

“No,” he replies, but from the way he raises his eyebrows and turns his head away briefly, it's clear he's lying. 

“What did you mix?”

“Piña Colada.” He furrows his eyebrows. “But it tastes more like nightmare colada than pineapple.” He stretches out his arm and holds the glass out to you. “Have a taste.”

Without hesitation, you reach for the cocktail - still careful not to let your fingers touch - and sip the drink once. You look at him in amazement. “I don't know what your problem is,” you reply and take a big sip. “It tastes fantastic!”

Charles looks at you doubtfully. “Are you serious?”

“Definitely,” you confirm. “I'd offer you my wine, but you don't like sweet wine.”

“Give it to me,” he says unceremoniously and grabs the wine glass as you hold it out to him. Without hesitation, he puts the glass to his lips and drinks every last drop of the wine. "Sorry. I had to get rid of the horrible taste of that cocktail."

You look from the empty glass in his hand to his face in amazement. "Wow. So you think the piña colada is that bad. If you keep going like this, you'll be drunk in no time."

Charles reaches behind your head into the basket and pulls out a bottle of wine. “That was the plan, wasn't it?” Slowly and intently, he pours some of his dry wine into your glass, careful not to waste a single drop. “Don't tell me I did all of this  for nothing.” He points to the many shakers with a nod of his head. 

You curl your lips into a thin line. “Are you even allowed to drive the boat tomorrow if you still have alcohol in your blood?” you ask and take a sip of his - now your - cocktail, which, contrary to Charles' opinion, actually tastes phenomenal. 

“I don't know,” he replies and sips his wine. “But if need be, you and I can stay here another night.”

“Tomorrow is Christmas,” you remind him. "Your mom would be furious with us if we didn't show up for dinner. And then she'd kill us."

Your roommate shakes his head. "My mom loves you. She'd kill me without hesitation, but definitely not you." He leans back a little and rests his head in the pillow so that he's comfortable but still sitting upright enough to drink easily. 

“I think I'd stand up for you,” you say before taking another sip. 

The Monegasque looks at you, dumbfounded. “You think?”

The way he opens his eyes and looks at you, you can't help but burst out laughing. "Yeah. After all, I don't want to incur your mother's wrath. I like her far too much for that,” you say into your glass and look at him over the rim. 

Charles rolls his eyes. "You're being mean. I'll take you on my boat -"

“Yacht,” you correct him. 

"All right then. I take you on my yacht, where you can even spend the night, make you delicious food and offer you all the alcohol you can imagine - and you think you'd stand up for me?" Playfully hurt, he puts his hand on his chest. “Wow. I thought you'd care more about me.”

You do, you say in your mind. More than you'll ever know.

“Oh, come on.” You snuggle into your pillow too. "How many women have you taken here already, huh? Surely I'm not the only one you've spent a night with here." Realizing your choice of words, you clear your throat. “In a friendly or romantic way, I mean.” Even though you don't want to know the answer to how many women he's had here on the boat, curiosity wins out. 

Your roommate shrugs. “You're the only one,” he replies quietly before taking a sip of his wine. He avoids your gaze. 

Your head jerks in his direction. “Not even Annika?”

“Not even Annika,” he confirms to you. “I - I don't know - I took Annika out for a nice day at sea once, but we  went home at night. This is the first time I've been on a boat with someone other than my family and stayed the night."

His answer relieves you a little. Apparently you're not the next in a line of women Charles is spending the night with on his boat. And the fact that you're the only one, according to him, makes you feel a little happy. 

“If it makes you feel any better,” you start your sentence, “you're also the first person I spend the night with on a boat.” You smile at him. 

“It's not that difficult if you've never been on a boat before,” he replies with a grin. “And I thought it was a yacht?”

You roll your eyes. “Don't make me regret being on a boat on the open sea.”

As the wind sweeps around you and the sun disappears behind the horizon, you pull on your sweater. You feel Charles's gaze on you. “What?”

He shakes his head. "I thought the alcohol would warm you up a bit. But apparently you need to drink more."

You look into your cocktail glass. “I've almost finished your Nightmare Colada,” you defend yourself. 

"But only almost. Drink up, then I can pour you another one."

You raise your glass to your lips. “Are you trying to get me drunk, Mr. Leclerc?”

“Maybe,” he grins and pulls a shaker out of the basket. "There's a little Nightmare Colada left, if you like. Otherwise there's still your wine, or Sex on the Beach, or schnapps."

You take the last sip of your cocktail and put the glass down for him to refill. Heat shoots into your face, which is almost certainly due to the alcohol - and definitely not the way he says the word 'sex'. "Your offer sounds tempting. I think I'll stick to the nightmare colada for now. We can always have the schnapps later."

Charles shakes the shaker briefly before carefully pouring the rest of the cocktail into your glass. “I haven't had a schnapps in ages.”

"Why? Is your nutritionist against it?” you ask him with a grin. 

“Yes, actually,” he replies and hands you your glass. "But I'm on vacation at the moment, so I don't really care. That's why I had the chicken nuggets."

You raise your eyebrow. “I thought the chicken nuggets were there so we wouldn't get drunk straight away?”

Your friend shakes his head. "Actually, you had chicken nuggets because, culinarily speaking, you stayed somewhere between canned soup and Big Mac. That's what Lando said anyway." 

The fact that he remembered that warms your heart. A little something you didn't think he would remember. 

"There's also dessert, by the way, if you're still a little hungry. Chocolate muffins,” he smiles. "But maybe we'll save them for later, when we're drunk. They'll taste even better then."

“Muffins?” you ask in surprise. When Charles nods, blood rushes to your cheeks. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” His voice is soft and warm. He briefly puts his glass to one side and pulls on his white sweater. 

“Are you cold?” you joke, sipping your cocktail. 

“Haha.” He rolls his eyes and adjusts the bandana that is still tied around his head. “Even if the alcohol warms me on the inside, I can be cold on the outside.”

“But make me look stupid for it,” you retort playfully. 

"Sure. It's just pretty easy to drive you up the wall."

“What do you mean -” you start your question, but he jumps up from the sun bed as if stung by a tarantula. 

“There!” He goes to the railing in front of you and holds on tight. “I told you.”

You carefully put your glass to one side and stand up too. When you see what he means, your breath catches in your throat. 

Monaco shines in front of you in the dark and the water reflects the light beautifully. Charles hasn't promised too much. 

You stand next to him with your mouth open, your eyes fixed on the beautiful Monaco. “It is - breathtaking.”

“It is,” Charles replies quietly. You don't notice him looking at you. “Breathtaking.” He‘s almost ashamed at how beautiful you look to him. He has to look away.

The Monaco in front of you glistens and sparkles, captivating you so much that an idea occurs to you. With quick - and slightly swaying - steps, you walk back and grab your camera before standing on the sun bed. The cocktail has done a good job, because the cushion under your feet feels like jelly, so you need a moment to find your footing.

Charles is apparently just as fascinated by the view as you are, because he doesn't seem to notice that you've moved away from him. He continues to look ahead, towards his home, while you take a photo of him. A single photo - and when you look at it on your camera, you could cry. 

“That's it,” you smile. 

“Huh?” Charles turns to you questioningly. “What's what?”

You proudly hand him your camera. “This is the picture.” 

He looks at it briefly before glancing at you. A smile spreads across his face. “I knew it was a good idea to bring you here.” He looks like he wants to say something else, but he closes his mouth again before handing the camera back to you.

“Maybe you should hire me,” you joke, sending the picture to your phone and then sending it to him. 

“Maybe I should.” His smile is warm and electrifying and luminous. He's beaming - like the Monaco behind him. 

God, he's the most beautiful man in the world. 

“But first -” he walks around you, staggers across the sun bed and leans forward to fish a bottle out of the basket. “But first - comes the schnapps.”

[satorusugurugurl]

The Leisure Streamer is a Hottie (Chapter Two)

Summary: Rumor had it the top donor of the-strongest-streamers chats get to see him naked! Now that you're the top donor will you get to see the goods or was it just a rumor. Time will tell.

Pairing: Streamer!Gojo x FAB!Reader

Warnings: language, suggestiveness, fluff

A/N: Part two of the highly requested LSIH!! This will probably be a four part series, maybe five IDK yet!! 💚💚💚

Part One Part Three Part Four

Voices were muffled as someone gently tapped your cheek. Nausea swirled in your stomach as you felt your eyes and eyebrows twitch as you stirred. “Hey! Come on! Wake up!” Suguru? Your new boss was calling your name.

“She saw Gojo’s face; I would pass out too if I had to see his pasty ass.”

“Fuck you, Sukuna.” Satoru snapped as you slowly opened your eyes. “Hey! Good morning!”

As you turned your head towards Gojo’s voice, you blinked slowly, making out his shape. He was standing at the edge of the couch, grinning as he elevated your legs up. Seeing him like that had your face turning red as you glanced around. Having your favorite streamer elevate your legs was the least embarrassing thing that has happened thus far.

Suguru was crotched next to you, and the whole damn shop's employees circled the couch you were lying down on, watching you.

“Yuuji, go grab her a glass of juice.” Geto stands up as Gojo lowers your feet, resting them on the cushions. “Megumi, Nobara, can you make her a sandwich to go with it?”

“On it, boss!”

The trio heads to the kitchen as Gojo hurries to your side, helping you slowly sit up. “I am so sorry.” You utter out, looking up at the six-three man who smiles, bangs falling in his face.

“Please don't apologize; I'm glad I was there to catch you.” He glanced at his phone, grinning wide. “Sorry, I need to take this call, Satoru—” bright blue eyes leave your face for a second, “make sure she eats and drinks the food; it’ll help with nausea.”

“Yes, sir! Have fun on your date!”

“It's not a date! It's just an employee and her boss going out for lunch!”

“Date!”

Suguru flipped Satoru off as he hurried to the back with the other employees. He was leaving you all alone with your favorite streamer in person. The same person you had masturbated with the night before.

“One sandwich and a glass of juice!” Yuuji grinned, handing you a plate.

“Thanks, Yuuji,” Satoru grinned, waving him off before turning his head to you. “You heard Mama-Geto, eat. Then we could talk.”

At least your favorite streamer allowed you to eat your food before talking to you. If you weren’t sitting on the couch and didn’t have some sugar coursing through your veins, you might have passed out for a second time. You were lucky that you didn’t pass out for a second time. You sat there in silence, eating the delicious sandwich that was provided to you by your new boss.

Once Gojo sees that your plate is spotless, crumbs and all he turns to smile at you. He’s so much cuter in person. Which you thought was impossible, seeing that he looked like a freaking God on his live streams. Especially last night when he was stroking his co—.

“Feel better?” Gojo interrupts your reminiscing of the night prior. The way you jump doesn’t go unnoticed. “Easy there, sweetheart. I’m not gonna bite.” He cocks a pristine white eyebrow at you. “That is unless you asked me to. Then I would be happy to bite you.”

“Oh my gosh.” The way you giggle makes Gojo smile wide. Last night, he was speechless when he first saw your face, not the adorable mochi avatar you designed. You were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen in his entire life. For you to get flustered over him had him swelling with pride.

The stranger you had shared an intimate moment with via WebCam the night before stood up and sat beside you. “Are you feeling okay?” for the first time since you came, there was concern in his eyes.

“I’m fine, I promise. I was just shocked to see you. Who would’ve guessed that we lived in the same town.”

“The world is a small place.”

“It most definitely is.”

Satoru beamed, holding his hand out to you. “Gojo Satoru, it’s nice to meet you!” You smiled wide, grabbing his hand and shaking it, and as your fingers brushed against his, you swear it felt like electricity passed through your fingertips. The sensation was both alarming and comforting at the same time. A strange new sensation that you welcomed.

“So you’re telling me your name isn’t The-strongest-steamer? What a rip-off.”

“Oh! So sorry, mochigurl89! So tell me, do you prefer to go by ‘mochi’ or ‘gurl’?”

“Neither.” In between giggles, you tell him your name; upon hearing it, he gasps dramatically, placing his hand over his heart.

“And here I thought I hit the jackpot! The daughter of some mochi tycoon! I was having dreams about diving into a pool full of mochi.”

“Damn, you must really like mochi.”

Satoru nods his head, “Kikufuku is my favorite! I love the Zunda and cream-flavored ones.” He licked his lips at the mention of his favorite sweet treat.

“Really? I've never tried that kind. Do you know of any cafés that sell it here in Tokyo?”

“It’s a Sendai specialty.”

“Oh, I'll have to try it if I’m ever out there.”

“Hell yeah, are you bus—”

“Gojo!!”

Your favorite streamer stiffened his head, lurching forward as the front door to the coffee shop flung open. Just as he was slowly sinking to the ground, you turned to the source of the voice. A man with blonde hair, neatly brushed, wearing a blue button-down shirt and a cream-colored suit jacket, walked inside. Honey-Brown eyes scanned the area before landing on you.

“Oh, apologies,” The man fixed his yellow and black spotted tie before heading further into the shop, “Geto informed me that Gojo had finally made his way out of his dungeon, but I guess he’s crawled his gremlin ass back down there.”

“Uhhh—”

The man was about to turn and head towards the basement when he heard the floorboards creek under Gojo’s weight as he tried to lay underneath the couch. You weren’t sure how to react or what to do in a situation like this. So you just let it play out, your eyes focused on Gojo’s feeble attempt to hide himself before darting back to the blonde man storming towards the couch.

Satoru’s attempts to hide him under the smallest space of the couch were rendered useless as he saw the stranger's shadow stretch out on the floor below him. With a nervous laugh, he turned to look up at the man who was glaring down at him as the blonde man’s eyebrow twitched.

“N-Nanamin!”

“Do not call me that! What do you think you’re doing? Why have you been ignoring my calls?”

Gojo grumbled before rolling back to try to hide himself underneath the couch. “Because you're gonna lecture me.” Nanamin, which obviously wasn’t his real name from the way he reacted, stepped around the sofa and gently hooked his foot around Satoru’s leg jerking him away from the couch.

“Damn right, I’m going to lecture you! That is my job as your PR manager!”

So, the mysterious man was Gojo’s PR manager. He was typically responsible for handling all sorts of business deals and sponsorships and finding indie games for Gojo to play. You had heard on the Discord servers that his PR manager was amazing. Not only did he make Gojo look amazingly good online, but he also helped pick out games that had blown up because of Gojo. Thus benefiting both the Satoru’s channel and the game designer.

People often praised Gojo for his honest reviews and his support of small creators. It's all because behind every good drama-free streamer was a good PR manager. And from how popular and drama-free Gojo’s channel usually was, the tall man standing before you had much to do with that. You also had heard through the grapevine that being a PR manager was a hassle, and there is no doubt that was true, too, because Gojo’s PR manager looked like he was about ready to commit a federal crime.

“You promised me that you would consider going to San Diego Comic-Con! Mind telling me why I just got an email from the guest board stating that they were sorry that you had declined their offer?!”

“I thought about it and decided I didn’t wanna go. Simple as that, Nanamin!”

“You need to go out there and meet your fans face-to-face. You'll start losing followers if you don’t contribute more to your public appearance.” Satoru pouted like a child, grumbling about Nanamin not being his dad. “You know that I’m right.”

Satoru sat up, groaning as he motioned to himself. “Nanami, what am I supposed to do? Go out on a stage half-naked in my sunglasses?! My followers don’t follow me for the games; as charming as I may be, they follow me because they like watching a half-naked man play leisure games!” The mysterious Nanami released an exasperated groan, rubbing his hands through his hair.

“This is why I keep telling you to do more streams, fully clothed!”

“Again, my followers prefer it when I’m half naked.” Cerulean eyes landed on you as Satoru pushed himself off the ground. “Isn't that right, sweetheart?”

Finally, noticing your presence again, Nanami’s eyes snapped in your direction as Gojo addressed you. For a long second, it looked like he was trying to put together what to say. Before a single syllable could leave his lips, Gojo had his arm draped over his shoulder, pulling him close to his side. The blonde man huffs out a sigh before his shoulders, relaxing the tension leaving his muscles.

“I-I mean, you being half naked is a perk to watching your streams. And I’m just speaking for myself here, but I enjoy watching your reactions and reviews more than looking at your chest.”

Nanami perked up at the bluntness of your words, which left Gojo in shock. “See, perfect example, your fans don’t just see you as eye candy; people watch you because you’re funny, you make your streams enjoyable, and you’re always giving back to the community that has welcomed you so lovingly.” you

For just a second, you thought that maybe Gojo was listening to Nanami, but when he shrugged his shoulders, giving a little ‘eh’ in response, Nanami threw his hands in the air before dropping them to his sides. There was something almost comical, watching them interact with each other; they got under each other's skin. It was quite the dynamic.

“I give up on you; I’m going to put my notice in one of these days because of the headache you constantly leave me with.”

“You would never in a million years, put your never give me your notice.”

“Wanna bet?”

The threat had Satoru sitting up straight, dizzy, cleared his throat, “I’m going to pretend that it didn’t happen, and I’m gonna introduce you to my top donor from last night.” A look of panic plastered over Nanami’s face as he examined you like you were some crazed stalker. “N-No! Look, Suguru needed an artist to help design a new logo for the café! Mochigurl89 just happened to be applying for the job without me knowing.”

“It's true; I am not a stalker.” You held your hand out to Nanami, who took it without hesitation. After introducing yourself, you bowed at the waist. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Nanami Kento, the pleasure is all mine.” His gaze focused back on Satoru. “Now, enough with the distractions, we have work to do. We have to retract the statement you gave to the Comic-Con committee. We must review new trends and games I found for you to play. It’s going to be a hectic day, so I hope you’re ready.”

Being a streamer seemed like a busy job. You were eager to have your meet and greet, but it seemed like Satoru’s day was booked. Since you would be working at the cafe, you could schedule your meet and greet for another day. You pushed yourself off the couch, grabbing your saddlebag off the ground and putting it over your shoulder. Seeing you get up, Gojo’s face fell as he rushed after you, holding your wrist and stopping you in your tracks.

“Wait, please don't go! I owe you a meet and greet!”

“No, it's okay! We can rain check for next time. Nanami seems to have a long day planned for you, and I don’t wanna interrupt that.”

Satoru grumbled, shooting a glare in the direction of his PR manager. For a moment, you could almost hear the wheels turning in his head before his pout transformed into a mischievous smirk. Satoru took several steps before draping his arm over Nanami’s shoulder, pulling him tight against his body. Sensing something was at play, Nanami lowered at his client, eyeing him up and down, waiting to hear whatever excuse came out of his mouth.

“Ya’ know, I thought you said my fans are my biggest priority.”

Nanami pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling through his mouth. “They are a big part of your career, but you can’t just get away with talking and meeting your fans. There is more to this, and you know that.” You shifted again, eyes darting from the exit back to the two men standing in the middle of the coffee shop. It didn’t feel like a conversation you should be involved in, but Satoru had stopped you from leaving. So it wouldn’t hurt to stick around and see what he had planned.

“Right, yes.” Satoru cleared his throat, eyes darting towards the counter of the shop. “You’re so right, Nanami Kento! What would I do without such a great PR manager? Nanami Kento is the best!!”

You were about to ask why he was yelling his name when you watched Nanami’s pale cheeks flush as he glanced toward the counter. “Nanamin!!” Yuuji and another boy practically threw themselves over the counter, rushing toward the taller man. “Nanamin! Hi!” Yuuji’s eyes glittered and gleamed, and he held his fist up in front of him. “Could you show me some new moves the next time we’re at the dojo together?! I practically mastered the ones you showed me before!” another boy wearing a beanie dug through his backpack, holding out a laminated folder towards the older man.

“Ino, what’s th—”

“A report on some of the newest trends! I also compiled a list of games I think would be great for Gojo’s channel! I could help you!”

The two young men crowded Nanami with a big grin, stars practically twinkling in their eyes. Not once did the PR manager look uncomfortable. In fact, he almost looked like he was happy to have two young men interested in conversing with him. You could’ve stood there all day and listened to their enthusiastic chatter, but Satoru grabbed your wrist and yanked you out of the coffee shop while Nanani was distracted by his two pupils.

Gojo was laughing as he looked over his shoulder at you, pulling you closer to him as he ran faster. “Come on! We got a train to catch!” A train? Why in the world did you both have a train to catch? When he said he owed you a meet and greet, you figured you’d probably do it in the comfort of the coffee shop.

“W-Where are we going!?” you laughed aloud as you followed him down the street towards the train station.

An hour and a half later, you got your answer as Satoru placed a bag in front of you. “Kikufuku! Sendai’s specialty and my absolute favorite sweet treat!” He opened the bag and pulled out a small box, placing it in front of you. “Go on! Try one!” You weren’t sure where Gojo was looking, looking through his dark sunglasses and the black mask covering his face so he wasn’t recognized in public. But as he sat in front of you, motioning to the box, you could feel his stare.

You opened the box without hesitation and pulled out one of the emojis that had brought you to Sendai on your spontaneous day trip because Gojo wanted you to try his favorite mochi. You pulled the rice cake out of its wrapper before biting it. It was chewy and soft; the flavor was sweet but earthy simultaneously, a perfect balance to the sweetness. But the whipped cream in the middle had tilted your head back in near orgasmic pleasure. Satoru wasn’t kidding when he said this was his favorite treat. Because honestly, he might have you hooked on it now.

“Oh my god, it’s so good!”

“Right!” Satoru asked, yanking down his mask and placing it on the table's surface, allowing him to eat one of the mochi balls freely. “I’m telling you, it’s the whipped cream in the middle!”

“M-Mmmhmm! It is!”

You both sat there munching on mochi while sipping on your Boba, which you had insisted on buying despite Gojo’s protests. He had been kind enough to buy you a ticket and bring you to Sendai for mochi because of a spur-of-the-moment decision. Who knew your tiny, cute little avatar would end up being the reason you got to go out with your favorite streamer? This was a dream come true, and if it really was a dream, you didn’t want wake up.

Not even twenty-four hours ago, he was a stranger to you, and now you were sitting across from him at a table at a shopping center. You were laughing and talking like you had known each other for years. You guys had just so much in common. The game shows you watched, to a similar taste and sweets. It felt like the meet and greet/day trip with some of the most fun you had had in years. There seemed to be a spark between you two, and it wasn’t because you had lost composure and had masturbated with each other the night before. There was more to it than that.

“Oh my god, that was so good, it hit the spot! And it will be well worth facing Nanami’s rage later.”

Sipping on your boba, you slowly leaned forward, getting closer to Gojo's face. “Is he gonna be mad about you playing hooky with me?” Satoru snorted out a laugh, toying with his face mask.

“Sweetheart, if anyone were going to get in trouble for playing hooky, it would be me. And honestly, it’s not the first time this has happened, and it definitely will be the last.”

“Oh, so do you take all your meet and greets to Sendai for mochi?”

“No, just the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. Someone who has stolen my breath away and has been on my mind since we signed off our call last night.” You looked away momentarily with burning cheeks before slowly glancing back toward Satoru. “I’m being serious. I cannot stop thinking about last night.”

Last night was one of the most unforgettable nights of your life. You were used to having okay days or bad days ever since your ex broke up with you. Since then, you have felt stuck in the never-ending cycle of mundane days. You were going to school, working on commissions, and watching your favorite streamers in your free time. Two great back-to-back days felt weird, but you gladly welcomed the change.

“I can't stop thinking about it either.”

“I’m going to be truthfully honest with you. I have never done anything like that in my entire career, let alone my entire life.”

“That makes two of us then.”

“Would it be awkward if I said I wanted this meet and greet to be more like a first date?”

Satoru’s words had you inhaling sharply, mid-suck on your boba. So ungracefully, you choked on the tapioca balls, sending milk tea spurting out of your nose as you coughed roughly. Satoru stared at you for a long minute, cerulean eyes going wide before he clamped his hand over his mouth. While you tried to find a shred of dignity, the white-haired man in front of you shook, his face red.

“Don’t. You. Dare.” You warned as Satoru’s face turned redder. Despite your warning, Satoru threw his head back, roaring with laughter. He smacked his hand against the table while tears flooded his eyes.

Being mad at him for laughing at your pain was hard when he looked so pretty. There was only one other thing for you to do. You laughed with him. With your laughter joining his, Satoru laughed harder, leaning his head forward, white locks hiding his face while you wiped up your mess with a napkin.

“Oh my god, oh fuck! I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time!”

“Yeah? I’m glad my suffering could entertain you.” You teased, winning a wide grin in return.

“I was going to say something inappropriate, but I don’t wanna ruin the moment.”

Already having an idea of what he would say. “First date and I’m choking on balls?” The only sound of laughter is your own. Feeling as though you made it awkward, you give him an apologetic smile, only to see the flushed cheeks and gentle grin Satoru is giving you.

“So it is a date?”

“I-I guess it is, yes.”

“Would you be uncomfortable if we take this back to my place?”

Darting your tongue out you lick the sweet traces of milk tea up. “Ooor~ there’s a love hotel just down the road.” Satoru’s eyes widened as he stood up packing the bag before grabbing your hand.

“Let’s go!” Both of you hurried out of the shopping center, completely unaware that Gojo’s mask was left behind.

LSIAH Tag List (AGE MUST BE IN BIO):

@witchbybirth @zoeyflower @missmuffinr @kalulakunundrum

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks

[the-thing-withfeathers]

exceeded caution part 3

promise to keep

series masterlist | previous part | next part

a/n: okayyyy part 3 y’all here u go

pairing: ex!tara carpenter x f!reader into sam carpenter x f!reader

warnings: violence (stabbing), character deaths, blood, mention of ambulances, mention of car accidents, mention of past injuries. 3.6k words.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

you had just been attacked. now was not the time to be thinking of sam carpenter's smile. or her eyes. or her tan skin and dark hair and her smile, her smile, her smile—

ding! a text. you looked over at your phone.

or her.

“thank you for the other day.” her message notification popped up on your screen. “you didn’t have to stand up for tara and i.”

“it’s okay, sam.” you replied at the speed of light. “i’m sure you and tara didn’t need any more of that. you’re already burdened with so much.”

“let me say thank you.” she sent and paused for a second, the three dots moving erratically as she typed. “dinner? just the two of us?”

“is that safe?” you questioned. you knew it was probably best that you both stayed indoors.

“it’ll just be at my place, tara’s staying at the twins’ tonight.” oh.

you felt like a dirty criminal. tara was your ex-girlfriend. you two were trying to be friends again, would this sabotage everything? if you were to pursue your feelings towards her sister?

but you couldn’t say no, you wanted to dip your toes in freezing cold water.

“okay. i’m down for that. what time do you want me to be there?”

or jump straight in.

“see you at six.”

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

you knocked on the apartment door at exactly five past six. you realised you were a little late but you wanted to dress nice and look presentable.

the door creaked open, a cautious action by sam.

“hey...” she said, smiling now that she realised it was you.

“i should put a peephole on your door.” you chuckled softly, “maybe you’d be a little less nervous to answer.” you entered the apartment with your hands in your pockets.

she returned your laughter and nodded. “that would honestly help a lot, i think i should look into that.”

“or look out of it.” you joked, nudging her slightly. she rolled her eyes at you but couldn’t stop the smile that grazed her face.

“that was terrible.” she said, making her way to the kitchen.

“i know. but it made you smile.” you tried your hand at being a flirt, you didn’t know how it settled with her as she was facing away from you. but she didn’t stop you.

she turned back around, holding a pasta bake in her hands. “come on, let’s eat.” she jerked her head towards the dinner table.

you followed behind her and moved a chopping board closer to her so she could put the hot baking dish down.

“this smells amazing, sam.” you inhaled its aroma. “i’m really sad i missed your cooking week.”

“hey, we’re making up for it now.” she shrugged, grabbing a spatula to create a portion for you and serve it up on a plate. “here.”

“thanks.” you squeezed her shoulder when she handed it to you.

“yeah.” she whispered just under her breath as a response. she portioned some for herself and sat at the head of the table. you were sat just to her left. you found the seating to her intimate, it was better than her sitting across from you.

and yet, it was too far away.

you waited for her to start eating before you did.

“oh! did you want something to drink?” she asked suddenly, putting her fork down and standing up.

“sure. what do you have?” you turned around to watch her walk to the kitchen.

“i was gonna offer wine. or just alcohol in general.” she suggested, opening the cupboard that held it.

“sure. i’ll drink what you’re drinking.” you nodded, taking another bite of the pasta.

she came back a few seconds later with two wine glasses. you took one from her hand and sipped carefully. you weren’t exactly a wine person but you could appreciate the dose of alcohol.

“oh! this is good.” you commented, surprising yourself.

“it was like 20 dollars.” sam shrugged it off. “but it’s good, i do like it.”

“i’ll have to pick it up one day.” you put the glass down on its coaster.

you two ate quietly for a few minutes then sam broke the silence.

“how are you doing?” sam stopped poking at her food to ask the question.

“i’m… i dunno, actually.” you found that honestly was a pattern you stuck to with sam. she was always honest with you about how she felt and you never held back in returning the favor. “i never thought i’d find myself in a predicament like this— i don’t think anyone expects it, really.”

“you’re right, yeah.” she nods at you while taking another bite. “i wanted to call you and check in on you but tara has been busy trying to do schoolwork so i figured you were doing the same amount of work.”

“i am, yeah. i don’t know how she can focus so well though— i’m having trouble.” you confessed. “i’d never been the studious type anyways.”

“really?” sam raised her eyebrows at you. “you seem studious. like school work comes easy to you.”

your face slowly started to turn hot at the compliment. you hoped the concealer you had on was enough to hide it.

“well, i like school. it’s the assignments that get me. i like sitting in class and learning, but when it comes to writing 5000 word papers? that’s a different story.” you leaned back in your chair a little to sip your wine.

“fair enough.” sam chuckled softly. “although, i’d love to read 5000 words if they came from your mind.”

flirting?! was she flirting?!

what could you even say back to that? you often forgot that you were just dating sam’s younger sister. the forgotten thought was clouded by the fact that maybe you had chosen the wrong carpenter in the first place.

“oh… i’m sure you wouldn’t…” you stuttered out, talking over your food as an effort to hide your shy tone.

“i’m sure you’ve got an interesting mind.” sam leaned a little closer to you.

“you’re too kind, sam.” you sighed out.

“you are too.” she retorted back. “kindness is rare nowadays, i’ve been lucky enough to find it in you.”

her words were like string. wrapping around your heart and clenching it. samantha carpenter was getting to you. you felt your stomach drop when she spoke to you.

and yet, it felt so sinful.

“anyways—“ she cut through the silence. “i’m grateful you stayed with us even after the attack.”

“i dunno… i mean… i can’t say it was a new feeling, being so close to dying. but it was fucking terrifying trying to run away from someone with the intention of killing me.” you said. it almost felt too casual, the way you dropped that information on her.

“close to dying?” she asked.

“yeah. i was in a nasty car accident when i was a kid. i almost didn’t make it out, i was actually the last one rescued because they didn’t see me in the backseat.” you hadn’t told many people this story, but it felt like you’d told it a million times with sam.

“oh my god, i’m so sorry.” she suddenly reached for your hand and wrapped hers around it.

the contact felt hot. like heat was radiating off her skin and meeting yours. it felt like sparks igniting so aggressively that you felt you might explode.

sinner. sinful. sinful sinner.

“its okay.” you said, looking away as an effort to hide your embarrassment. your eyes met her empty plate and you moved to pick it up, pulling your hand away. she was too slow to stop you. “i’ll wash up for you.”

you got up with both your plates but she followed you to the kitchen. she leaned on the counter as you washed the dishes.

“did you have many injuries?” she asked, her arms crossed over her chest.

“yeah, bruised everything. broke most things. broken ribs, my eardrums burst, just… everything that could break a child.” you dryly chuckled, remembering how young you were when you had to deal with all of that.

“anything that hurts to this day?” it’s like she could see straight through you.

“yeah. my left arm. it’s just always acting up. it just broke horribly so the bones never fully recovered. it’s okay though, i think i can still lift more than you.” you joked, nudging her, trying to lighten the mood. sam laughed with you, stepping backwards to steady herself.

“oh i don’t doubt that.” she returned your energy, it was nice to see sam drop her usual demeanour.

you put the dishes on the drying rack after realising you had been scrubbing and rinsing them for nothing, getting carried away with your conversation.

“anyways, they were gonna cut it off but i didn’t want that. i wanted to try and heal. i unfortunately had to quit heaps of things in high school. gave up a lot of things i loved.” you frowned a little, “but it’s okay, i found new things!”

you dried your hands then felt a hand squeeze your arm gently, a sign of affection. you turned your head to see sam hovering over you. her fingers gently trickled down to touch your bad arm, her eyes trailing across the skin.

you were so close to her, so close. you could feel the heat radiating off her body.

“you’ve been through so much. and yet your heart is so good.” she whispered, not needing to make her voice any louder due to your close proximity.

“you never know what someone might be going through.” you turned around to face her, looking up at the taller girl in front of you. “not a lot of people treated me with kindness after the accident.”

she put her hands on both your upper arms, rubbing them as a way of grounding you after talking about something so heavy. it was working, you felt like you were more present than ever before.

the way she was looking at you— she was staring straight into your soul. it was like she was peeling all your layers back just by breathing the same air as you.

“nobody will ever hurt you again.”

it was almost a promise. you knew she couldn’t guarantee it, but she was going to try her hardest.

the statement made you close the gap between the two of you. you leaned upwards, almost reflexively. you even held onto the cloth of her shirt. she leaned down too, her lips hovering directly in front of yours.

just fucking do it.

your eyes fluttered shut, you moved in for it. and you swear you felt her lips before you heard it.

click!

the door swung open, quinn was home. you shoved sam back so hard that her back hit the wall with a thunk.

“hey guys.” she said, tiredness threading through the greeting.

“quinn. i thought you were staying over at what’s-his-name’s place?” sam asked, annoyed. you almost missed it.

you had your fingers grazing your own lips, still in disbelief at what happened. you didn’t even know if you made contact.

“i was supposed to but we fought because he didn’t make me cum.” quinn said, bluntly. you turned around, your eyes widened at the statement. you felt like you were intruding.

“interesting fight.” sam nodded, pretending to be amused.

“he’s a big baby. don’t worry about it. i’ll let y’all get back to dinner.” she kicked her shoes off and waved before making a beeline for her room.

sam’s jaw was tight. she was clearly bothered about being interrupted. you were staring at her side profile, your own arms crossed.

“we shouldn’t have, sam.” you said, firmly. you felt like a damn criminal going after her. you knew it would start more drama in the carpenter household after there was already so much brewing.

“but you want to.” she said, retaliating against your statement. “and i want to.”

“but we can’t. tara will hate us.” she scoffed at your words. what you didn’t realise is that she was more than willing to take that risk.

“we already did, anyway.” she said, moving towards you.

so you did. you did kiss her. in the split second you had before quinn walked in, you kissed her. and she felt it— there was no turning back now.

“sam…” you held your hand out, the tips of your fingers hitting her abdomen, stopping her from getting any closer.

because you knew if she came any further, you would do it again.

“we’re not doing it again.” you glared at her, but all you received back was a smirk. “i’m going.”

you turned away from her, walking to the front door to grab your bag and jacket. she stayed in the kitchen, she wasn’t going to try and stop you. she knew that you needed time to process.

she needed her time too. now was the wrong time to try and start this, in the middle of fighting an ongoing war against a masked killer. it was wrong, unfair to you both. but she couldn’t resist the urge.

in the space between trying to keep everyone alive, she wanted to fit you in. she wanted you by her side through all of this, even if it meant only having a second to kiss you in between stabs.

you put your bag on your shoulder and turned the doorknob, walking out and shutting the door behind you. she sighed in defeat as she packed the remaining leftovers away for anyone to pick at later on.

she walked into her room and plopped down on the bed, reaching for her phone. she found herself worrying about whether or not you made it home safe, she didn’t know if you would text her at all.

her thumbs quickly typed a message.

“please let me know if you get home safe.”

“home safe.” you texted her twenty 20 minutes later. as much as you knew distance was good for now, you wanted to ease her worries. she didn’t need to worry about you.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

you don’t know how you found yourself ignoring the invite to another family dinner at the carpenter household.

you thought that by putting space between you and sam that the desire to give into the craving would fade away.

when you grabbed your pizza and made sure to lock your door three times, you found yourself increasingly paranoid at the thought that you were no longer safe from the infamous ghostface. you started to regret not going to the perpetually busy household.

and turning on the television didn’t help.

PRIME SUSPECT SAMANTHA CARPENTER

it was screaming at you.

you sat up and increased the volume. you couldn’t believe your ears.

if ghostface’s plan was to frame sam, it was working. you had to give him credit for that, but it didn’t anger you any less.

you didn’t need to hear anymore before your pizza was abandoned and you were dashing out the door with your things.

you had a promise to keep.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

twenty minutes. that’s all it took for ghostface to wreak havoc on the carpenter household.

quinn dead. anika dead.

funny enough, it’s also how long you took to arrive.

when you arrived, chad and tara were outside the apartment, trying to fight their way in.

“what the hell is going on?!” you asked, rushing to them.

“ghostface is inside! sam, mindy, and anika are still in there!” tara yelled, panicking.

you could feel the adrenaline course through your veins. you were safe out here— but sam was not here.

you pushed your shoulder against the door, pulling chad and tara closer to you.

“together on my count. we do it thrice.” you said.

“one.” bang!

“two!” bang!

“three!” crash!

the three of you came stumbling into the apartment, the bloodstained walls immediately catching your eye. you prayed that the blood belonged to ghostface.

“sam!” you screamed out into the house.

“sam!” she heard your voice from danny’s apartment.

oh no. you weren’t supposed to be here for this.

the masked figure spun around upon hearing your voice. he turned to look at sam. she couldn’t see his eyes but she knew he was looking at her. he was taunting her to come back and save you.

she would have jumped the window on her own without the damn ladder if not held back by mindy and danny.

she tried screaming out to you to get out of the apartment.

but you couldn’t hear her. you were too busy examining quinn’s lifeless body. as you reached over to try and check for a pulse, you heard running.

running. fast. towards you.

and then a blade coming down.

you screamed in pain as the blade went through your lower left arm. it was already bad, what use was it anyway?

sam shut her eyes at the sound, it was loud enough to wake the entire street. and she could do absolutely nothing. it was the thing of nightmares.

chad and tara came running to you, chad throwing his body at ghostface. he knocked him over and picked you up.

sam gripped the ladder until her knuckles were white. she wanted to leave it there just in case you three needed it too. she prayed silently that you would not meet the same fate as anika.

you were dragged out of the apartment and down the stairs. when you reached outside, the wind blew against the blood trickling down your body. it sent a chill down your spine. your hand was wrapped around the stab wound, trying to stop the bleeding.

chad took his hoodie off and wrapped it around your arm, hoping to take some weight off your hand. you were grateful for him in the moment.

tara was calling someone but you were losing blood too quickly to follow what she was saying.

sam came running the second she spotted you from danny’s window.

you only then realised you had no idea where sam was.

sam was coming. her feet were working as fast as they could.

you didn’t see her in the apartment so you held onto the hope that she was okay.

she needed to see you. she needed to make sure you were okay.

you heard a door fly open. expecting it just to be some random person, you turned around just out of curiosity.

sam came flying out the door, enveloping you in her arms.

you winced in pain as the impact from her hug squished your arm.

“i heard you scream. i thought he’d gotten you.” sam spoke into your ear.

“nope. but he got the bad arm.” you held the injury towards her, she frowned at it.

“i’m sorry. you weren’t supposed to be here.” sam held your upper arm’s reassuringly.

“i saw the news. they were labelling you as the prime suspect. i had to make sure you were okay.” you stared into sam’s eyes. “i made you a promise.”

you had her. it was then that you had her. she was yours, and she knew it. you knew it too.

tara watched you two inquisitively. she didn’t realise you two had gotten that close. was she missing something?

while holding onto her phone to call an ambulance for you, she wondered if maybe you already had what you needed.

it was wrong. she knew it was, but she had to intervene.

tara walked towards you, basically pushing sam out of the way and resting her hand on your upper arm.

“i called an ambulance for you. you should sit til then.” she directed you towards the steps of the complex.

you let tara sit next to you, placing your arm on your lap.

“it’s the shit arm.” she said, referring to an inside joke the two of you had made during your relationship. it was an obvious inside joke to figure out but it made the two of you laugh.

you didn’t quite laugh though, you just nodded dejectedly.

“it is. it never catches a fucking break.” you huffed in frustration. you didn’t want to know the damages that would occur from this injury.

“i’m sure it’ll be okay. your body has survived so much worse.” part of you was surprised she even remembered the accident you’d been through.

“parts of my body have. why couldn’t he have gone for my leg or something?” you groaned out, tara’s dimples making an appearance from the smile that she flashed you.

“maybe you should let him know that for his next attack.” tara joked, it was an attempt to make you feel better despite ill timing.

you couldn’t hold back the snicker you felt bubble in the back of your throat. you were bleeding into chad’s hoodie but somehow tara made you feel better about it. it was a nice side of her.

“maybe i’ll leave a note.” you turned to her with a smile now growing.

“glad you’re feeling a bit better.”

“it still feels like shit. but thank you.” you acknowledged her efforts. she nodded and sat with you until the ambulance arrived.

when the paramedics collected you, they let you sit on the stretcher.

“fancy.” you mumbled, “and expensive.”

they loaded you into the vehicle and the male paramedic turned to the group outside.

“is anyone coming with her?”

“i’ll go.”

“i’ll go.”

both sisters chirped up at the same time, standing right at the door.

“only one of them can come with you.” the female paramedic said, turning to you.

you stared at the two girls. why did they have to do this tonight?

you had a choice to make, and you had to proceed with exceeded caution.

tara or sam.

sam or tara.

you had to choose before you bled out.

in your fuzzy state, you slurred out your answer.

and the chosen carpenter hopped into the ambulance with you.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

author’s journal

okayyy everyone thank emma for pushing me to get this done earlier than i expected.

i’m also sorry if the romance feels a little rushed but i wanna get the romantic element kickstarted a bit more because we’re all here for it lets be real.

ummm i also wanted to write out the ladder scene a bit more but this chapter would go on FOREVERRRR

this was also my first time ever writing a simultaneous pov scene so i hope it makes some form of sense

anyways i hope y’all enjoyed this and i’m sorry for the cliffhanger— no i’m not, i’m so funny.

kisses!

[ztarvokwrites]

How the Monster Trio propose to you

a/n: HI SURPRISE I'M TURNING THESE HEADCANONS INTO A SERIES :3 literally loved writing the last batch of headcanons bc they were so cute so i decided to turn it into a little headcanon series <3 you're welcome! ALSO I LEARNT HOW TO DO GRADIENT TEXT HEHEHE

read part 1 here >> How the Cross Guild propose to you (+ Galdino)

not nsfw! only pure fluff and silliness up ahead!

enjoy and don't forget to reblog if you like it!

Monkey D. Luffy

If you think Luffy is capable of proposing in a nice, romantic way — then you're wrong.

He has no clue what he's doing but he's just gonna roll with it.

Begs Asks Nami to find a ring in one of her treasure boxes, to which she reluctantly agrees upon hearing his reasoning.

Literally proposes to you the same day, in the middle of a fight with some rookie pirates.

Just straight up grabs you and pulls you to him, protecting you as he asks the question and shoves the ring in your hand.

"Hey, wanna get married?"

You're stunned for a moment at his sheer audacity to propose like that during a battle, but the seriousness on his face gave you the impression that he wasn't kidding.

With a simple nod, you put the ring on your finger and continued fighting beside him.

The rest of the crew looked on, dumbfounded at the scene in front of them as Luffy sent the last pirate flying before turning to you and giving you the biggest, sloppiest kiss ever — dipping you in his arms for extra effect.

Brook was the only one to clap enthusiastically, followed by a very hesitant Jinbei.

Party celebration? Yep.

Roronoa Zoro

Again, if you think he's going to propose in a romantic way, you're wrong.

Laziest mf when it comes to proposing.

Gets lost when looking for a ring for you on the island you're currently docked at, returns with said ring like five hours later.

Pops the question in the middle of dinner, making Sanji choke on his food.

"Y/N, will you marry me?"

Just so bluntly asks it that you have to do a double-take as Sanji regains himself and yells at him.

"WHAT THE HELL, MOSSHEAD! YOU CAN'T JUST ASK THAT IN THE MIDDLE OF DINNER-"

"I'd love to, Zo." You put the ring on after Zoro slides it across the table.

Sanji is gobsmacked before letting out a shrill, "WHAT THE FUC-"

Zoro lets you watch him work out and also lets you bathe with him as a treat :)

Definitely litters your skin in love-bites though so be careful of what you wear because I feel like Nami and Robin will tease the shit out of you lmao.

Vinsmoke Sanji

By far the most romantic on the ship, right next to Robin and Jinbei.

After the crew has dinner, he takes you out to the lawn on the ship and makes you your favourite dessert, having Jinbei make sure that Luffy doesn't try stealing any of it.

Sets down a blanket and everything and just watches you with adoration in his eyes as you eat and talk your heart out.

He's quick to conversate, nodding along with what you're saying and chiming in from time to time.

As you two are cuddling together on the blanket, he suddenly gets on one knee in front of you and presents the ring with a soft smile on his face.

"We've been together for a while now and every day with you feels like a dream. I could go on and on with how much I love you, but we'd be here for years if I did," Sanji chuckles, making you giggle in return as tears prick your eyes, making him freeze up in concern. "O-Oh no, are you okay? I didn't say anything wrong, did I? Please don't cry-"

You shut him up by kissing him square on the lips, knocking him over onto is back.

He looked at you with hearts in his eyes as you pulled away, taking the ring with a flustered smile and slipping it onto your finger.

Que him fawning over you for a month straight, kissing you any chance he can get and annoying most of your crewmates.

Luffy and Brook find it hilarious while Robin finds it sweet, though.

starnote: my cough is getting better! i'm not hacking up a storm at night anymore, now i'm only coughing a teeny tiny bit :P

creds to @/saradika for the star divider!

[punkshort]

saturday

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader (established relationship)

Summary: Your sister, Cassie, gives birth, and Joel has a question for your father.

Warnings: no outbreak, modern day but Joel is 40, language, fluff, flirting, soft!joel, explicit smut (18+MDNI), (somewhat - reader is on BC) unprotected piv sex, oral sex (f receiving), size kink?, alcohol use, reader's sister (obviously) gives birth but there's no description of the event

WC: 6.6K

Series Masterlist

dividers by @saradika-graphics

2:38am

You blinked a few times, making certain you were reading the time correctly. Sleep still weighed you down and you were having a hard time comprehending what woke you up in the first place. Then you heard it again and your heart jumped into your throat.

Someone was at your apartment door, you were sure of it. You could hear quiet scratching on the other side and when you sat up in bed to look across your apartment, you could see the unmistakable shadows of two legs under the crack in the door.

"Oh, my god," you mumbled, throwing the sheets off and grabbing your phone. Where was the baseball bat Joel gave you? What the hell did you do with it?

"Closet," you whispered to yourself, taking a few steps towards the coat closet when the door cracked open and you froze. You were in the middle of your apartment in just a tank top and underwear, clutching your stupid phone. This is how women are always killed in horror movies, you thought.

A familiar man's broad fame tripped over his own feet as he entered, and when you heard him curse quietly under his breath, relief flooded your veins which was quickly followed by annoyance. Reaching over to the floor lamp next to your couch, you flicked the switch, making him yelp and wince.

"What the hell are you doing, Joel?!"

He blinked rapidly and looked around the room before his eyes landed on you and a lazy grin spread across his lips. His hair was a mess and you could smell the alcohol and cigarettes from ten feet away. You wrinkled your nose but you couldn't help the goofy smile you always got whenever you saw him.

"You stink."

"Hey, baby," he croaked, his voice raspy from having far too much fun that evening. He stumbled towards you and you noticed dark spots staining his navy T-shirt that you hoped was just spilled beer.

"You scared the shit outta me. I almost called the cops!" you said, holding up your phone. "What are you doing?"

"Came t'see you," he slurred, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close. Now that he was standing in the light, you could see the pink dusting his cheeks underneath his heavy lidded eyes.

"You're very drunk," you told him, and he just hummed in response before burying his face in your neck. "Had fun with Tommy and the guys I take it?"

"Mhm," he mumbled, his lips sucking messily at your shoulder. "Wanted t'see you. Missed you. Fuck, you smell so good."

You giggled when his facial hair ticked your neck. "You came to see me because you can't drive home and my apartment is within walking distance of all the bars."

He pulled away and gave you a feigned look of hurt. "No. Thought 'bout you all night. Talked 'bout you all night," he said, leaning into the crook of your neck. His hands slid down from your waist to cup your ass and he groaned. "I like these," he murmured into your skin, his fingertips tugging playfully at the edge of your underwear.

And even though your body was responding to his touch, warmth blooming between your legs, your curiosity won. "What did you talk about?" you asked, biting on your lower lip when he pulled you closer, pressing you against his erection through his jeans.

"How fuckin' happy you make me. How I wanna spend my life with you. How sexy you are," he said lowly, gripping your jaw and giving you a sloppy kiss.

"Oh, wow, spend your life with me? You really are drunk," you giggled after you pulled away. "Let me make you something to eat."

You managed to wiggle out of his grasp and walk towards the kitchen area, flicking on lights as you went and opening the fridge. "Leftover pizza okay?" you asked, pulling out the cardboard box and flipping the top open before grabbing some foil to lay down in your toaster oven.

"What'dya mean? I ain't that drunk. 'Course I wanna spend my life with you," he said, leaning up against your counter, watching you work.

You turned the dial on the toaster oven and popped in two slices of leftover takeout pizza before turning around to face him. "We met four months ago and you want to spend your life with me?"

His eyes suddenly appeared clearer when he looked at you. "Yeah. 'Course I do."

You gave him a look before pulling a plate down from your cupboard.

"What? You don't believe me?"

You put the plate down and shook your head.

"It doesn't matter," you told him, wrapping your arms around his neck and dragging him down for a kiss, but he pulled back before you could make contact.

"I mean it," he told you, sounding serious. "Already got the ring."

Your eyes bugged out of your head and your eyebrows shot straight up. "What?!"

"I'm just kiddin'," he said immediately when he saw your reaction, something flickering across his face for a split second before the toaster oven beeped and distracted you. You pulled your arms away, turning around to check his food when you felt his arms wrap around your waist from behind.

"I'm only hungry for one thing," he whispered in your ear, the ring comment suddenly long forgotten. You leaned back into his chest, pulling his pizza out of the oven while he nipped at your earlobe.

"Why don't you eat some actual food," you offered, turning around in his arms with a playful smirk. "And then you can have me for dessert?"

A wide smile stretched across his face and he nodded. "Deal."

"Fuck, Joel," you whined, his face buried between your legs, your fingers tangled in his curls as he dragged another orgasm to the surface. You were confident at this point you've never wanted anybody the way you wanted him. You kept waiting for that honeymoon period to end, but somehow each time with him was just more intense than the last.

Your head fell back against your cupboard while you cried out his name, your thighs clutching his head as a rush of white hot heat flooded your body, little whimpers slipping past your lips until he finally pulled away. Your legs dropped shakily onto the counter as you struggled to catch your breath. He watched you try to recover with a pleased smirk on his face, wiping away your slick with the back of his hand. You gazed at him, your mouth open and panting for air, your eyes half closed and filled with need.

"Fuck me, Joel," you gasped, slipping down from the counter, your underwear lost somewhere on the floor. He groaned and crashed his mouth over yours, giving you a taste of yourself while his hands greedily reached down to lift you up, carrying you towards your bed.

"Shit," he muttered when he stumbled a bit, and you weren't sure if it was his excitement or the alcohol to blame but you giggled nonetheless.

He dropped you unceremoniously onto your bed before he got to work stripping himself of his clothes. He seemed to be struggling with his belt but when you kneeled on the mattress and pulled your tank top off, his fingers magically began to work faster at the leather. He hopped on one foot, kicking his jeans off in a hurry and making you laugh before he stood up straight against the edge of your bed and cupped your face with both his hands, pulling you in for a kiss and stealing all the air from your lungs.

He broke away but kept his nose pressed against yours, your face still held delicately in his large hands as he whispered, "need y'so bad, baby."

Your eyes drifted down between your bodies and you raised an eyebrow at his painful looking erection pressed up against your stomach. "You don't say," you teased, and he smirked before giving you one more soft kiss on the lips. He dropped his hands to your shoulders and gave you a gentle shove, indicating he wanted you to lay down, but you bit your lip and shook your head before twisting around, propping yourself up on all fours and looking back at him over your shoulder. "Like this," you told him, and a low groan rumbled deep within his chest as he stared down at you.

"You tryin' to kill me?" he asked, bringing his palms up to glide smoothly over your ass, giving one cheek a little squeeze. "I ain't gonna last long like this."

"You weren't gonna last long, anyway. Not with all the beer you drank tonight," you replied with a grin.

He chuckled and spread his legs a little wider before bending his knees and lining himself up with your entrance. When you felt the familiar fat tip of his cock notched against you, you sucked in a deep breath. Joel was normally a lot to take, but from this angle, you knew it would be even more intense.

He pushed inside with a grunt, giving you time to adjust when he heard your sharp gasp before sliding all the way inside and bottoming out with a low groan. Looking down at your ass flush with his hips, he knew he was a goner. The muscles in his stomach were already twitching and tensing and he barely even moved yet.

Your eyes squeezed shut and you pressed your mouth into your shoulder, stifling your whimpers while your body slowly relaxed around his girth.

"Y'okay, baby?" he murmured, his fingers flexing around your hips the only movement he allowed himself to make, patiently waiting for you to get comfortable.

"Mhm," you whined, then rolled your head to the side and arched your back a little, stretching yourself around him. "Just so big. So fucking big, fuck," you gasped when you felt him pulse inside you from the compliment.

"Don't talk like that, c'mon," he groaned, closing his eyes. Baseball. Tommy. Hanging drywall. Do not fucking come.

You looked at him over your shoulder, a lazy smile twitching at your lips when you saw his closed eyes and the pained expression on his face. Something about being able to pull him apart like this made you feel powerful, so you decided to have a little fun. You began to slowly move your hips, keeping your eyes on him as you rocked back and forth. His fingertips dug into your waist and his eyes flew open.

"W-wait-"

You sunk your teeth into your lower lip and moved a little faster, watching as his eyebrows pinched together and his breathing became erratic. "Why?" you asked innocently, fluttering your eyelashes at him.

"Stop, baby. Fuck, I'm-" he hissed and tried to pull out but you pushed yourself back on him further before he could move. "I'm gonna come, it's too soon," he whined, his face contorted in embarrassment.

"Joel, look at me," you commanded, slowing to a stop so he could focus. His chest was heaving and his fingertips were most definitely leaving bruises in your skin as he tried to fight off his climax. "You already made me come twice in the past thirty minutes. Now I want you to fuck me exactly like you want to and I don't care if you come in ten seconds or ten minutes. Can you do that for me?"

His eyes darkened a bit and the corner of his mouth turned up into half a smirk.

"Yes," he murmured, finally allowing his gaze to drop to your ass and you saw him swallow before taking a deep breath. In an instant his hips started snapping into you, almost making you fall forward but you quickly braced yourself. Your mouth hung open, hardly able to make a sound when your entire focus was on the way he managed to reach the furthest depths of you with each devastating stroke. One of his hands gripped your shoulder, the other still planted firmly on your waist as he slammed you back against his hips with each thrust, your skin smacking together so loudly you barely heard him grunting each time he knocked the wind out of you.

The hand he had placed on your hip slid to your lower back and he gently pressed his palm down, his pace still merciless when he whispered "can'ya arch your back a little more, baby?"

You could hardly form a coherent thought let alone sentence, so you did as you were asked without answering. Based on the loud groan you heard, he was pleased.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck," he chanted, breathing heavily behind you as you did your best to hold yourself up against his ruthless pace, but you could feel your legs getting weak. He suddenly fell forward and wrapped his arms around your ribs, yanking you up with a yelp so your back was flush against his chest and his mouth was pressed against the shell of your ear.

Your hands tried to grab his weakly, looking for some part of him to hold onto when he moaned into your hair and his body stilled momentarily, his hips stuttering as he flooded you with his release. Neither of you moved as you each fought to catch your breath, your head falling back against his shoulder. His heavy breathing was loud against your ear, then his chest eventually slowed down and his heartbeat returned to normal. Your legs began to tremble so he tightened his hold around you, holding you even tighter against him.

"I got you," he whispered, leaning forward so you could relax tiredly into your mattress. He pulled out with a soft grunt before collapsing next to you, stretching his arms wide. You crawled into his embrace and buried your face against his chest with a contented sigh.

"Too much?" he asked, his voice sounding a little hoarse as he drew invisible circles on your shoulder with his thumb. You shook your head and closed your eyes. "You're so fuckin' perfect, y'know that? How'd I get so lucky?" he asked softly, and you smiled. "You feed me 'n then you fuck me. What else could a man want?" he joked, and you giggled in his arms.

"Don't forget you went down on me in between those two things. You're pretty damn perfect, too."

He hummed and pulled your comforter over you both, making sure you were all tucked in and warm.

"I love you, baby."

"I love you, too," you whispered sleepily.

9:13am

Your phone rang shrilly on your nightstand, startling you both out of your deep sleep in surprise.

"Oh, Jesus, fuck," Joel mumbled, his hands immediately coming up to clutch his head. You sat up, holding the comforter against your chest as you groggily reached for your phone, knocking over a framed picture of you and Joel in the process. When it clattered loudly to the floor, he groaned.

"What?" you snapped angrily when you answered your phone, not even looking to see who was calling.

"Buck! It's happening!"

Your heart skipped a beat and you gasped, making Joel drop his hands from his face to look at you curiously.

"Now?!"

"Yes, now!" your sister, Cassie, replied on the other end. "We're on our way to St. Dave's. Mom and Dad are already on the way."

"Oh my god!" you yelled, throwing the comforter off yourself and running to your closet completely naked. Joel sat up and gawked as you used one hand to pull out fresh clothes, tossing them on the bed frantically and although he could tell it was an emergency, he couldn't stop staring at your perfect fucking body.

"W-where do I go? The emergency room or labor and delivery?"

Joel threw his legs over the side of the bed and tried to shake away his massive hangover before standing up slowly and hunting down his clothes.

"Okay, okay. I'll be there in like," you looked at your clock quickly, "twenty minutes."

You hung up and threw your phone on your bed before grabbing your underwear and pulling them on, much to Joel's dismay.

"Cassie's in labor!" you said, rushing past him in just your bra and underwear.

"I gathered," he said with a yawn. "You got any Motrin? The hospital's got a coffee spot, right? Starbucks or somethin'?"

You popped your head out of the bathroom and handed him the bottle of medicine. "You're coming with me?"

"Yeah, 'course I am," he said, popping two pills and swallowing them dry. "Unless you don't -"

"No!" you said hurriedly, disappearing back in the bathroom. "I want you to! I just thought you'd have to go home to Sarah."

"She's at a friend's house the whole weekend. It's why Tommy dragged me out in the first place. Said I never spend time with him when we work together all damn day," he muttered under his breath before sniffing his shirt from the night before and making a face. "This smells like the floor of a bar."

"You have some spare clothes here, remember? In the third drawer," you told him as you dried your face and started to brush your hair into a ponytail. He went to your closet and opened the dresser, smiling when he saw the entire drawer was devoted to just his things before picking out a fresh outfit and a stick of deodorant, hoping it would be enough because there was no way he would have time for a shower.

"Do I still stink?" he asked worriedly when you walked by, shrugging on a shirt. You stopped and sniffed him, then grinned.

"You smell like sex."

He smirked and raised an eyebrow. "Well, in that case, I'm ready to go."

"At least brush your teeth, you animal," you teased, shoving him towards the bathroom with a laugh. He stumbled into your small bathroom and found the spare toothbrush you bought for him. As he quickly brushed his teeth, he ran his fingers through his messy hair, trying to tame the bedhead to no avail. After he rinsed, he wet both his hands and ran his fingers through his hair a few times, slicking his curls back to make himself look more presentable.

When he was satisfied, he met you out in your kitchen, your face buried in your phone as you furiously texted your family. You glanced up at him and did a double take when you saw his hair.

"Oh, I like that look," you said lowly, reaching out a small hand to gently touch his wet hair, and he grinned. "It's not fair. If I were hungover as shit, I would look like road kill, and here you are looking more handsome than ever," you told him, pecking a kiss to his lips before grabbing your bag and heading to the door.

"You must've seen some real pretty roadkill if you think that," he told you, following you out the door and draping an arm around your shoulders as you headed to the elevator. "Want me to drive?"

"Yeah, if you don't mind," you said, handing him your car keys before tapping away on your phone again. "My mom's telling me where we should park."

Joel courteously dropped you off at the hospital entrance while he parked your car, giving you the opportunity to find your parents quicker. You saw your dad waiting for you by the front desk, his head tilted down towards his phone.

"Dad!" you called out, and he looked up at you with a smile. Slipping his phone in his pocket, he bent down and enveloped you in a big bear hug. Your dad, Paul, was a big guy and might come off intimidating to most who didn't know him, but at the heart of it all he was a huge softie.

"How's she doing?" you asked, pulling away while he stabbed the button for the elevator.

"She's doin' alright. Little nervous but she's ready."

When you noticed the elevator about to reach the lobby, you glanced behind you. "Wait! Joel's parking the car," you said, and his eyebrows rose a bit in surprise.

"Oh, didn't realize Joel's here," he replied, glancing at his watch, and you immediately felt the heat creeping up your neck.

"He was out with his friends and brother last night. He had too much to drink and couldn't drive so he walked to my place," you told him, which wasn't exactly a lie. When you saw Joel walking through the lobby, his hands shoved in his pockets and his hair slicked back, you felt the same flutter in your stomach you felt every time you saw him and you prayed it would never go away.

Joel's gaze landed on you first and then your dad's, giving you both warm smiles as he approached.

"Hey Paul, early congratulations are in order," he said, shaking your dad's hand just as the elevator dinged behind you.

"Thanks, Joel," he replied, clapping him on the back and following you into the elevator. "Heard you had a fun night last night."

Joel's eyes went wide and the blood drained from his face as his gaze darted back and forth between you both.

"The bar. With Tommy and them," you reminded him, and his shoulders visibly relaxed.

"Oh, yeah. Too much fun. Feelin' it today," he said, rubbing his forehead. "Tommy met a girl, though. Got her number, if I recall, so maybe that'll get him off my back. Can't drink the way I used to."

"A girl? That's great. Maybe y'all can double date or somethin'," your dad said, stepping through the open elevator doors when you reached labor and delivery. "Now she's only allowed two visitors plus Josh, so why don't you go back and we'll swap out after a while. It's room 663."

"Okay," you said, turning to Joel. "I'll be back soon, I just want to check on her-"

"Take your time," he told you, kissing the top of your head. "I'll get us some coffee and somethin' to eat."

You smiled in relief and hurried past the swinging doors, eager to see your sister.

12:26pm

The strong, over-caffeinated coffee Joel drank managed to quell his nasty hangover. You had swapped out with your dad once already, gratefully accepting the breakfast he bought while you updated him on your sister's status. From what he gathered, her water broke but she wasn't dilated enough yet. It had been quite a few years, but Joel remembered when Sarah was born and how long it took. When his ex went into labor, they both thought they had to rush to get to the hospital, assuming the baby would arrive quickly but it ended up taking a day and a half before Sarah was actually born.

"You don't have to stay, you know," you told him after a few hours. "I know this is boring and there's nothing to do. I'm sure you have things to do at home-"

"I wanna be with you," he said, cutting you off. "If I went home I'd just be sittin' around wonderin' what you're doin', so I think I'll stay if that's alright by you."

You gave him a shy smile and looked away, and goddamnit you looked so beautiful every time he made you blush.

The double doors swung open and your dad emerged, holding out his arms to his sides with a smile.

"Still the same," he announced, and both your faces fell. "Tag, you're it," he teased, tapping you on the shoulder before you stood up.

"I'll be back in a while," you told Joel, stretching your arms a bit. "But seriously, if you want to go home it's totally fine. You can take my car and my parents can take me back."

"I told you, I ain't goin' anywhere," he said firmly, "now go be with you sister, she needs you."

You smiled and blew him a quick kiss before pushing past the doors. He looked over at Paul, who was scrolling on his phone, and took a deep breath.

It was now or never, and he might as well do it while your dad was in a good mood.

"Hey, Paul, can I talk to you 'bout somethin'?"

Paul looked up and clicked the button on the side of his phone, the screen going dark.

"Sure. What's on your mind, Joel?"

Joel knew Paul long before he even knew you. He met your parents when he was hired to build their house, which took a very long time and was a lot of hard work, but he loved being able to bring to life what someone could only dream about. He always got along well with your parents, so much so that they invited him to their Christmas party, which was when he met you and his life changed forever.

And even though he knew your father well and he had no reason to be nervous, he still felt butterflies in his stomach as he thought about what he wanted to say.

"Well, it's 'bout your daughter," he began, his fingers fidgeting anxiously in his lap as he struggled to maintain eye contact.

"Bucky? Everythin' okay?" Paul asked, suddenly looking concerned. Joel quickly shook his head.

"She's great. Nothin' bad. We're... great," he stammered, taking another deep breath. "I love her very much. I'd do anythin' for her, I hope y'know that," he said, hoping his voice didn't tremble like he thought it did. "We're plannin' on movin' in together when her lease is up in a few months, I think she told you," Joel said, looking up at Paul questioningly. He nodded slowly, his brow beginning to furrow a bit.

"Yeah, she told us. We think that's great, Joel. You know we love havin' you part of the family," he told him, and Joel felt a bit of relief when he saw his opening.

"That's exactly what I wanted to talk 'bout, actually," he said, and Paul tilted his head to the side, confused. "'Bout bein' part of the family, that is. I-I'd like to ask her to marry me - with your blessing, of course," Joel said hurriedly, "and not straight away. I was thinkin' when she moved in I might ask her then. I know it's soon, I know we've only been datin' a few months, but Paul, I gotta be honest with you, she's the one for me," Joel said, the words tumbling out now as he watched Paul's eyes go soft. "I've never been more sure 'bout anythin' in my life. And I promise I'll take care of her, I'll love her and give her whatever she needs. I'll never do wrong by her, you got my word-"

"Joel," Paul chuckled, waving his hands in the air. "Joel, that's enough. You don't gotta sell yourself to me. I know you're a good man, I see how happy you make my daughter, I ain't blind. 'Course you have our blessing. Christ, nothin' would make us happier."

"Really?" he breathed as a smile stretched across his face, his hands trembling now in his lap.

"Yes, really. The hell you so nervous for?"

"Well, figured you'd be upset 'bout her last engagement and how we haven't known each other long," Joel admitted, running a shaky hand through his hair.

Paul shook his head and made a face. "That last guy never even had the guts to ask me. I had a feelin' it wouldn't last, but I had hoped my little girl would be the one to end it on her terms. But it all worked out, anyway. She met you," he said, grabbing Joel's shoulder and giving it a firm shake. "You might've only known her for a few months but I've known you years and I know the type of man you are. I see the way you look at each other. Reminds me of when I met Martha," Paul said, his eyes growing misty. "When you know, you know."

Joel smiled and blinked back tears of his own. "Yeah, you're right. When you know, you know."

Paul leaned forward and pulled Joel into a tight hug, squeezing the air from his lungs in the process but he didn't care. He had your father's blessing, that was the first hurdle. Now all he had to do was find enough courage to ask you to marry him one day.

5:48pm

"You havin' fun, babygirl?" Joel asked into his phone as he paced the halls of the hospital.

"So much fun, Dad. It's supposed to be warm out tonight so we're all gonna sleep outside in tents and have a campfire."

"Now why are you excited to sleep outside with your friends but when I wanna go camping you always say no?" he said, smirking when he heard her groan.

"Because I'm still within walking distance of indoor plumbing," she shot back, making him chuckle softly.

"Yeah, well, y'got me there," he conceded, his eyes flicking up when he noticed you walk through the doors, scanning the lobby looking for him. He held up his hand and when you saw him, your mouth stretched out into a tired smile.

"How's Cassie?"

"Nothin' new but I think I might be gettin' an update here in a second," he said, eyeing you as you hurried up to him. "You call me if you need anythin' at all, alright?"

"I will."

"Okay, love you," he said right as you caught up to him.

"Love you too, Dad."

He dropped the phone from his ear and slid it back into his pocket. "How's she doin'?"

"She's getting ready to push!" you said excitedly, grabbing his arm as you bounced on the balls of your feet. "I was just giving them a few minutes of privacy but she said she wants me to hold one of her hands. The doctors said you and Dad can wait outside the room if you want," you told him, pulling him back down the hall towards your father, who was already waiting with a nervous look on his face.

"How're you holdin' up?" Joel asked Paul, who looked paler the closer he got. You let go of his arm and he followed you down the hospital corridor, making sure to stay out of the way of the passing medical staff.

"I'm 'bout to be a grandpa, Joel. I'm feelin' every emotion there is right now," Paul said with a nervous laugh.

Even though his hangover was still a very fresh memory, he still said, "why don't we get a drink later on and celebrate? Help take the edge of a bit."

Paul clapped Joel's shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze and making him wince, but Paul didn't notice. His eyes were fixed on a door at the end of the hall. "That sounds like a plan, son."

Joel choked up for a moment at the term of endearment but quickly swallowed it down. This was about Cassie and Josh, not him. But still, the fact Paul felt comfortable calling him son during such a pivotal moment in his life touched him.

"Okay, I'll come out and let you know how it goes," you said, turning around to face the two of them. It melted Joel's heart, the way you were so happy and excited for your sister.

"Alright Bucky, you take care of our girl," your dad said, planting a kiss on the top of your head. You turned to Joel and he shot you a wink.

"Go on, now," he told you with a smile, and you gave him a quick kiss on his cheek before disappearing inside the room.

It took nearly one more hour, but after hearing a lot of screaming and crying from your sister, there was a brief silence before the telltale sound of a newborn's cries filtered through the door. Joel's eyes widened when he looked at Paul, who immediately began to tear up. Joel grinned and patted him on the back but he was quickly yanked into a bear hug so tight he wondered how he didn't fracture a rib.

"Congrats," Joel said, his voice a little pained, but Paul didn't notice. He was far too excited as tears of joy spilled down his cheeks.

Josh stumbled through the door wearing a disposable apron and cap, looking shellshocked as he yanked off a blue mask. Paul grabbed him and pulled him into a fierce hug, making his eyes bug out of his head even more and Joel had to stifle a chuckle.

"It's a girl," Josh said, a smile stretching across his face now. Paul laughed and wiped away his tears while Joel shook Josh's hand and congratulated him. "They're both doing great. Cassie's great. The baby's great. Perfect. Oh my god, I'm a dad," he said, suddenly bending over, his hands gripping his knees as he breathed deeply.

Paul laughed and rushed into the room, leaving just Joel and Josh in the hallway.

"You alright?" he asked Josh, putting a hand on his shoulder to help steady him.

"Yeah. It just kinda hit me all at once, y'know?" he said weakly, falling limply into a chair. "How'd you do it, man? Weren't you freaking out?"

"Oh, yeah. I still freak out," Joel admitted, sitting down next to Josh. "Havin' a girl is hard. They are unpredictable and independent but also so amazing and strong."

"You got any advice for being a girl-dad?" he asked, half joking.

Joel grinned and leaned his head against the wall as he scratched his chin and thought about it.

"Encourage her. Let her be herself. Let her paint your nails and make mistakes. Play tea parties with her and listen to her. Don't lie to her. Do your best. Show her love. Make sure she sees how you and Cassie love each other. Treat her with respect, but don't assume anythin'. Wear the tiara. Wear the boa. Just... be there. Because a father's love for his daughter is special. Look at Paul," Joel said, stretching his arm out towards the closed door. "He hasn't left this building all day. He raised two beautiful, smart, well rounded women who he would go to war for but also lets them be themselves. Lets them make their own choices and doesn't hold 'em back. Just... love her, man," Joel said, tilting his head in Josh's direction. He had been quietly listening to everything he said, absorbing every word before taking a deep breath.

"Thanks, Joel," Josh said with tears in his eyes. "I mean it. Thanks."

Joel slapped him on the back with a wide smile.

"No problem. Now get in there and help your wife."

Josh stood up and looked down at Joel. "Aren't you coming?"

Joel stood and followed Josh inside the crowded room, which was currently being vacated by the hospital staff so everyone could bond with the new family member.

But what Joel wasn't expecting to see was you holding the newborn in your arms, seated in a chair next to Cassie's bed as you gazed down lovingly at your niece.

Something tugged inside Joel's chest when he saw you. Something foolish and primal and earth-shattering. You looked up at him and smiled.

"Look, Joel. Meet Anna," you said, your gaze finding hers once again, and Joel looked at you, praying his face didn't give away what he was feeling in that moment.

"She's gorgeous," he whispered to Cassie, then went to stand behind your chair so he could admire Anna's sleeping face.

Paul was snapping pictures while Martha was on her phone talking to extended family, letting them know the good news. Josh pressed a kiss against Cassie's lips and murmured what a great job she did, but all Joel could see was you and Anna. You looked so at ease as you cradled her in your arms, like you were made for it and he felt his throat close up.

You finally handed her back to her mother but made sure to press a quick kiss against her forehead first.

"We should probably let you guys get to know each other," you said, giving Cassie a half hug.

"Thank you so much, Bucket," Cassie said softly, looking down at her baby. "I couldn't have done it without you. Thank you for being here, Joel," she added, and he smiled.

"'Course I'd be here. You're like family to me," he said sincerely, and she gave him a tired smile.

You blew Cassie a kiss and gave your parents a hug before grabbing his hand and leading him out the door.

"Well that was an unexpected way to spend a Saturday," you said, wrapping your arm around his bicep as he lead you to the elevator.

A flurry of thoughts swam through his head as he walked you through the parking garage to your car, but he kept them all to himself. It was an eventful day, you were right. You just had no idea how much.

"Did you want to stay the night?" you asked him when he parked your car, and he felt the butterflies swirl in his stomach. He wanted nothing more than to spend every second with you, but he made a promise.

"Yeah, but I mighta made plans," he confessed, and you gave him a look as you stepped out of the passenger side of your car. "Told your dad I'd take him for a drink to celebrate," he told you, and you rolled your eyes.

"After last night? You're willing to drink again so soon?" you teased as he walked you into the lobby of your building.

"Just one drink. Then I'll be back, and this time I won't sneak up on you," he murmured, pressing a slow kiss against your soft lips.

"Better not, or else I might not be so nice this time," you whispered against his lips, making him groan.

"You were real nice," he said lowly, his cock already twitching in his jeans. "Give me a couple hours and I'll return the favor."

"Is that a promise, Mr. Miller?" you asked playfully just as the elevator dinged and the doors slid open.

And maybe it was because he was so tired, or maybe all of the emotions from the day were building up inside him like a dam ready to burst, but the urge to ask you right then and there was overwhelming. He had never felt so strongly about anything in his whole life. But he had to be careful, especially after your reaction to his comment about the ring. He had to be patient, he had to think about the timing. He had to do it right.

"Yes, ma'am," he finally replied, his tone so serious it made you grin.

You stepped backwards onto the empty elevator, holding his gaze and with a mischievous glint in your eye, you winked.

"I'll be waiting."

Then the doors slid shut, leaving him paralyzed. He had to fight the urge to race up the stairwell and meet you at your door, all breathless and needy, but he forced himself to exit your building. As he strolled down the street, heading towards where he parked his truck the night before and silently praying he didn't get a ticket, he thought about the hold you had over him. It was powerful and intense. Alluring and confounding. Debilitating and staggering.

And he absolutely loved it.

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