#hey guys do you ever just *explodes*

[howlerbat]

There was a time in which I could not conceive of how I could ever forgive you. And in this moment I am you.

[nebuladreamz]

The voices are loud and I am WEAK

[everymlmhybrid]

this part genuinely makes me feel like eating dry wall like i can't explain how i feel about it without making some of you finally tire of me and block me about it i think

[cherry-leclerc]

can’t you see ☆ mv1

genre: redbull!driver, enemies to lovers, smut, lando and danny playing cupid lol, protective!max (although he won’t admit it), mean!max, sub!max, dom!reader

word count: 3.2k

In between your mutual dislike with your teammate, Lando and Daniel try their best to make you and Max uncover some hidden feelings.

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+...penetrative sex, riding, sucking on fingers

req!...quick one, but ahh first maxie drabble. eekk :)

“What a fucking asshole.”

Daniel’s eyes bulge out as he hands you a cup of coffee. It had been an extremely long day. Perhaps not the best idea to keep it going, but it seemed like the FIA didn’t give a shit about that. You were past being upset. You were seething. 

“Uh…Yeah. I mean I get it. I’m tired, too. This red flag came at the worst time-”

Briskly, you take the cup from him, cutting him off. “It’s not the red flag, it’s Max.” Ever since you joined Formula 1 as the first female to drive for Red Bull, you had felt welcomed by everyone. Everyone but your actual teammate. You had thought maybe it was because he had small balls and couldn’t handle the fact that you were driving alongside him, but when you confronted him about it, he only growled. 

As if you would ever cross my fucking mind.

Squinting, you point accusingly at the Australian. “You ought to stop being his friend.” He loudly laughs as he throws his head back. 

“You say that every time.”

Making a face, you shoot back. “And you never choose!”

“You’re both my friends. No one is winning custody.” 

“You’re older than both of us combined.”

“Hey!”

Hey, a low voice replies. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up. A shiver runs down your spine. Max leans up against the nearest wall as he ignores you and keeps his eyes on his friend. You wave your hand up in front of him a couple of times for good measure before your mouth drops open when he acts as if you were Casper the Friendly Ghost. 

“We were just talking abou- Ouch!” Daniel shrieks in pain when you pinch him. Faking a smile, you turn to the Dutchman. We were actually in the middle of something here. Nothing. He just keeps looking past you. Running a hand through his hair, he starts talking about how this all ‘ruined my flow’ and how he was going to have to ‘try to fix the FIA’s mistakes’. You have to laugh.

“Is something funny to you?”

You look around the room as you theatrically shudder. Sipping on the hot beverage, you hum and close your eyes. Max clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he crosses his arms in frustration. Cold weather, Danny. Do you think there’s a place nearby that sells homemade chicken soup?

“What the fuck is your problem?”

“If we find one, then maybe we can invite Lando and-” Suddenly, he reaches out for your cup and hot drops hit your hand. You hiss in pain. “What’s your problem, dickhead?”

Now, a normal reaction would be to be a decent human being and apologize. Offer up their own cup of coffee, perhaps. Not Max. Throwing it into the nearest trash bin, he turns to you. And he actually has the audacity to look upset.

“Why didn’t you let me overtake you? I don’t know if you don’t know this because you’re new or something like that, but here, when we are instructed to do something - we do it.”

Narrowing your eyes, you step closer. “So what? I don’t let you by one time and suddenly I’m the bad guy? Let me remind you that that’s all I’ve done for you this season.”

“Maybe when you’re someone’s number one driver then you won’t have to do shit like this, but until then,” he angles himself lower to you, “...It kinda looks like you have to.”

“Oh. No.” Daniel winces as he sips quietly on his hot drink. He can physically see your wheels turning as you glare back at the Dutchman. Your cheeks have turned light pink as you refrain yourself from yelling in front of all the Alpha Tauri engineers. Max scrunches his nose.

“Cute.”

You’re about to explode and let all hell loose, but just then, the red flag is over. Huffing, you grab your helmet as you walk away without sparing a single goodbye. Daniel frowns. “You need to stop treating her like that.” Max scoffs. Treating her how? The Australian inches closer as he lays a large hand on his friend's shoulder. “Like you don’t care.”

As soon as the race picks back up, you’re in the zone. You have to work twice as hard to overtake anyone in your way, considering most drivers were on new tires, but eventually you worked your way through. Drops of rain hit your visor as you slow down in sector 2. 

“Should I be worried about the rain?”

“Nothing to be worried about, just keep it up.”

You nod, even though Christian can’t see you. As you get closer, you can see Max’s rear wing. He’s fast - zooming, almost - but that only made you want it even more. Defend. I repeat, defend for a 1-2 finish. “Yeah. No.” Entering the DRS zone, you press down on the throttle as you try all tactics to catch up with the 3x World Champion. Fat drops of water hit the Red Bull as you squint in order to not get lost with the commotion. What are you doing? Defend. “I am defending.” You press harder. “Except I’m defending my spot. Not his.”

It’s almost as if he knows what you’re about to do. Quickly, he scans his sideview mirror as he curses when he sees  that you weren’t slowing down. It looks like the two Red Bulls are going head-to-head! Probably not the best idea at the moment considering the tough weather, Crofty announces. Passing Max by, you can’t help but cheer as you try to imagine his reaction. 

“Not what we were picturing, but very well executed. He will be defending now.”

It wasn’t planned to get stung by a boiling hot coffee, of course it wasn’t, despite the bickering between you two. It wasn’t planned to take time to scratch your burnt hand. And it most definitely was not planned to crash.

Plunging into the wall, you groan, curses flowing past your lips. Are you okay? “Yes. I’m okay.” Lifting your visor, you shyly wave at the grandstands. Would you mind going over to check on Max? He’s currently not responding. Your heart stops. Jumping off your seat, you climb out of your car as you turn and sure enough, Max’s Red Bull is ruined. 

“Are you alright?”

Throwing a thumbs up, he lifts himself out of his car to wave at the fans. He turns to you, dark blue helmet still over his head. “What the fuck was that all about?” You narrow your eyes.

“What do you mean? I got an itch.” And though he wears his helmet, you can’t help but notice the crinkles by his eyes. Your stomach flips. It's because of the crash. That’s all it is. You clear your throat. “What happened to you? You were driving well.” Professionally, he slides his gloves off as he waves over at the safety car.

“I had to check on you one way or another, right?”

Dumbfounded, you're faced with his back as he walks away.

-

“He’s into you, can’t you see it!”

“No. Jesus, don’t even say that.” Lando raises his brows as he throws his legs on top of your bed. Daniel hums from underneath the covers. He’s right, though. Pulling the sheets off, you scowl. “Don’t give me reasons to kick you both out.” Throwing yourself onto the mattress, you smile widely. “Soooo, what’s new?”

It’s all you three are ever good for. Pure gossip. Chewing hard on a piece of pizza, you gag. Daniel cackles as he reaches for the last slice. Hey! What if I wanted that? He cocks his head. Fine, you mumble.

“All I wanted was a warm soup.”

A gentle knock echoes through the room as you all turn to face it. Go and open it, Daniel hisses. Wha- No! You go open it, Lando whispers back. Bunch of babies, you murmur as you untangle yourself from your blanket. Swinging the door open, you freeze. Standing tall is Max with a paper bag at  hand.

“Hey.”

Peeking out into the hallway, you stare back confused. “Hey?”

Almost timidly, he kicks his feet up against the wall with a small smile. He extends his arm out, signaling for you to take the mysterious bag. I don’t want any problems, you choke out, feeling skeptical. His blue eyes grow wide.

“Oh. No, don’t worry!” He opens the bag and takes out a small container. Leaning forward, you feel blood rising up to your cheeks. “It’s just soup.”

After an awkward exchange, he leaves. Inhaling the delicious scent, you let out a dreamy sigh.

“He so likes her.”

-

“We might have been wrong.”

Lando tilts his head, curly strands bouncing at the motion. Daniel hurriedly takes a seat next to the Brit as he smacks his large hands on the table. “What do you mean, mate?”

Daniel scans the room quickly before shaking his head. “I mean, that I just heard them two. They were going at it.” Lando blushes as he lets out an awkward laugh. I don’t even want to know. The Australian bites back a smile as he continues. “Not like that. Yet. What I mean is that they’re back to square one. He’s being a complete dick.”

“Alright. Looks like we have to knock some sense into him.”

-

Go, Daniel mouths once Max enters the debrief room, eyes entertained on his phone screen. Pushing past the Dutch, Charles jogs over to where you sit next to George. “Hey!” Greeting him back with a warm smile, you pat to the open seat. “I was wondering if you wanted to grab a bite after this. Maybe some chicken soup?” You beam.

“I love a good soup!”

Rapidly, Max’s ears perk up as he hears your conversation with the Monegasque. He was well over the rivalry, but with this? He would not second guess bringing it back. He clenches his jaw as he notices you nodding along with Charles. Strolling over to the small group, he shoots a bitter grin.

“Did you see Christian’s message about our last minute meeting?”

“Hello to you, too.” Checking your phone, you look back confused with a pout. “No. I haven't received anything.”

“Yeah, well, there’s one-”

“No, there's not.” Flickering your eyes behind your teammate, you’re even more lost. With hands on his hips, Christian taps his shoe as his eyes flicker between his two Red Bull drivers. “Don’t mind him, sweetheart. There’s no meeting.” He sends a small wink at Charles before walking off to the rest of the team principles. Max slumps.

“Ha. Guess it got canceled or something like that…”

Rushing over Lando and Daniel, Charles hunches over as he starts blabbering. “Did it work? Please tell me it worked - God - I think I almost shit myself. Tell me it fucking wo-”

The Brit points discreetly to where Max paces the room, orbs trained on you like a guard dog.

“It’s definitely working.”

He smacks a one hundred dollar bill onto a large hand. 

“And thank you for the help, too, Mr. Horner.”

-

Despite the attempts to get you and Max together, nothing seemed to work. The blue eyed boy would appear to start registering his feelings, and at the last minute, would completely chicken out. It would be an outright lie to say that this didn’t entertain the Alpha Tauri and McLaren boys, but they also knew that they had to continue their fairy godparent duties.

“Watch it!”

Crashing onto the couch inside of the Red Bull Hospitality, Max’s face bounces against it. He groans in pain before throwing a harsh stare at his friends. Lando stiffles a giggle as Daniel raises his arms up in defense. Getting seated, the Dutch looks back with a sour expression. 

“What’s this hostile situation about?”

Lando panics as he turns to his mate. The Aussie licks his lips, patting his lap. “Look, we’ve noticed a few things-” What things? He huffs. “Maybe if you would just let me finish-” That’s what she said! He glares at Lando who slaps a hand over his mouth, tears from unreleased laughter painting his blue eyes. “As I was saying…We’ve noticed your behavior towards a special little someone…”

“Towards Heidi? Shit. I didn’t think it’d be that noticeable.”

Lando clicks his fingers rapidly before pointing at the Red Bull driver. “He’s trying to not talk about it because he knows where this is going!” No, I’m not, Max shrieks as his voice cracks. Blushing, he pushes his hat lower to his face.

“You like her!”

“You know I like Heidi! She’s good for you-”

“You know that’s not who we’re talking about.”

It’s silent for a while. Standing up, Daniel goes to sit next to the 26 year old. Running a hand over his face, Max’s sighs as he looks up. “I’m not…used to feeling this way, okay?” 

“That’s totally fine, but that doesn’t give you the right to treat her like a piece of gum stuck at the bottom of your shoe. She’s amazing. Could have anyone - and I mean anyone - but she likes you. I don’t know why or how, but she likes you.” Daniel scoots away when Max narrows his eyes.

“She doesn’t like me.”

Jumping over the coffee table, Lando plops down. “Yes! She does. Ask me how I know.” A bored expression slashes Max’s face as he asks anyway. How, Lando? How do you know? “Because she’s always fighting with you.”

Daniel clicks his tongue as he slowly squints his brown eyes. “I don’t think you’re making the point you think you’re making, mate.” The Brit waves him off.

“I’m dead serious. When she gets upset, she always walks away because she claims to not want to waste her time on stupid arguments. But with you,” he pushes his index finger against the Red Bull polo, “With you she never - ever - walks away. Sure, you’re both at each others throats, but that only means one thing.” He leans against the sofa as he takes a sip of the open energy drink. 

“She doesn’t mind wasting time on you.”

-

After some more convincing, the duo had managed to raise the 26 year olds confidence. They could be wrong. Embarrassingly wrong, but how would he ever know if he never tried? Taking in a deep breath, he finds himself knocking on your door.

“More soup?”

Sheepishly, he shakes his head. His heart skips a beat as he notices how laid back you seem. How relaxed you were. He was going to ruin all that. He was going to say something that would change everything and things might never be the sa-

“Wanna come in?”

Handing him a plate of cut up watermelon, you take a seat in front of him, legs tucked beneath your butt. What are you doing out so late at night, Mr. Max Verstappen? He sets the plate down as he forces himself to mold into his chair. 

“I’ve never hated you.”

You blink. Clearing his throat, he looks down to his lap as he fiddles his fingers. “I know I’ve been such a bad teammate - I know - but I promise that it never had to do with you.”

“Okay. So…then what did it have to do with?”

He lets out a croaky laugh as he shuts his eyes. “That’s the tough part…” Opening his blue eyes, he finds you staring back, waiting for an answer. “I feel the opposite of hate…towards you.” He hates the way your face doesn’t change and you remain still. He hates when you shrink back and chew on your lip.

But he could never find himself hating the moment you climb onto his lap.

“T-that’s not what I came here for-”

“I know.” You slide your hands against his stubble. “Your confession was…adorable. Had trouble saying those words out loud, right? Because you,” you strum your finger against his chest, “...You don’t have feelings. You don’t have a heart.”

Now he’s frowning as he tries to unravel your words. A giggle bubbles up your throat, eyes crinkling shut. His breath hitches. “I feel things…” Your heart twirls with the way his voice sounds. Sure you do, Maxie- 

Grabbing your face with his left hand, he kisses you. It’s hot, feverish, and impatient.

It’s him.

Whimpering, you grind against him as he groans underneath you. Forcing himself to pull away from your warm lips, he cocks his head to the side. “Was that enough proof?”

“I might need more.”

It’s such a moment of pure adrenaline, that you can’t even pinpoint the moment your hatred towards him had turned into lust. All you know is that it felt so good to be riding him. Squeezing your hips, he lifts you up as he lets out a strained moan. The sound itself makes you drip even more. 

You had always loved his voice. How croaky it was. But you never imagined that it would turn your entire world upside down to hear him moaning your name like a prayer. Oh, fuck. Holy shit. Pushing his hands down, he opens his eyes as he looks back, weak and concerned. He worries you might have suddenly regretted all of this. That you would walk away and never want to talk to him ever again. But he’s already kissed you. He’s already been inside of you. 

He would beg you to stay in order to make you keep it that way.

“B-baby.” He whimpers with the way you dig yourself against him before circling your hips. Slow. “It’s okay if you want to stop-” You slide his fingers into your mouth. He swears he could finish with such a pretty sight.

“I don’t want to. I just want you to say sorry for everything you’ve ever done to me.”

“I already said I never meant any of it! You’re absolutely everything to me.”

Your core grows tighter with his affirmations. Holding onto his broad shoulders, you continue your sinister rhythm. “Maybe. But I still want one.”

“I’m so-”

Rubbing your bare tits against his chest, he shudders as he harshly pinches your thigh. Try again. “I said I’m so-” Pulling all the way out, you slide back down onto his cock. “Oh - don’t fucking do that.”

“Try again.”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m so fucking sorry.”

A satisfied smile slides onto your plump lips as you nod before kissing him and riding him the way you know he deserves. With one last hop, you both finish as he moans into your neck. Your fingers push his sweaty, blondish strands away before pressing your lips against his cheek. He smiles weakly.

“I like you, too.” You look down before returning your attention. “But I can’t be with you.”

“Wh-”

“Max. Let’s be realistic here. I’m a girl in Formula 1. You don’t know how hard I’ve worked to get here. I’ve had to do twice the work simply because I’m not a man.” You roll your eyes. “People are going to hate me. Call me names - God, I can already hear them.”

He never thought his heart could actually hurt for someone. You were really messing him up. He gingerly rubs small circles against your cheek.

“I’ll ruin whoever says anything bad about you, but please give this a chance. I’ve never wanted someone as bad as I do you. Please.”

And yes, there will be nasty comments. Hateful interpretations about your relationship. But that never really mattered as long as you had him. 

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ THE CUTEST COUPLE ON THE INTERNET! ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: what happens when you flirt with one of his many rivals?

contents: fem!reader. playful jealousy, it's nothin' serious. toji flirts with you <3 chat continues to make fun of satoru + fortnite slander. pretty short but uh... anyways.

author's note: live laugh love streamer!gojo

"c'mon, satoru," suguru drawls, smiling at your boyfriend through the screen. "how'd you get eliminated so fast? you must've set a world record," he teases, poking fun at the way satoru completely bombed the last round.

you snicker from your spot on satoru's bed, and he turns and sticks his tongue out at you. satoru had convinced you to come over just a couple minutes ago, and any hope you had of doing your homework in peace flew out the window the moment he went live. 

"shut up," satoru huffs, turning back to his monitor and scrunching up his nose at suguru. the two are close enough for them to banter and insult each other without any fear of resentment. suguru laughs in response, velvety voice resulting in a burst of heart emojis from the comments.

"well, i gotta go," suguru sighs, leaning back in his dark, plush chair. he smiles and waves with a reminder of when his next stream will be before signing off. 

satoru spins around in his chair a couple times and scrunches up his face at the screen. "why are you guys still here?" he asks, ruffling his hair and raising an eyebrow. "y'wanna see my girlfriend again or something?"

the chat explodes with a flurry of yes's, so satoru swivels his chair around and looks straight at you. he looks at you expectantly, opening his arms and beckoning you. "c'mere, sweetheart," he says, voice singsongy and light.

"you're so annoying," you mumble, rolling over and hopping off his bed.

"and i'm all yours," satoru replies immediately, shooting you a cheeky smile. 

whenever you call him annoying or stupid or a clueless idiot, satoru responds the same way every time. and both of you know that you certainly can't do much better than your sweetheart of a boyfriend, even if he is the brattiest boy you know.

you run your fingers through your hair and walk over to him, resting your chin on his shoulder and waving at his camera. "hey guys," you say with a smile. satoru turns to his head to kiss your cheek affectionately, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you closer.

as you lean into satoru's embrace, you scan the comments. most of them are either hi's and hello's, but a select few make you laugh.

yuuji-itadori: they make me feel so single :( 

inumaki: brb im about to violently throw up

toji-fushiguro: she can do so much better tbh

satoru scoffs at the last two comments, jutting his chin out and glaring at the screen. "why are you two still here?" he huffs, pointing at the camera and narrowing his eyes. the hand on your waist tightens as satoru pulls you into his lap. "inumaki, don't you have a fortnite round to lose? and you, toji, i'm this close to blocking you from my streams!" he grumbles. 

the chat explodes with various expressions of laughter, and you can't help but giggle at the responses satoru's jibes get.

inumaki: kys

inumaki: whats wrong with playing fortnite??? most fire game ever fym

toji-fushiguro: im not here for u loser

satoru mimicks inumaki with a high-pitched voice and goes on a minute-long tangent of why fortnite is the one of the shittiest games ever, and eventually inuaki chooses to retreat with a last snarky comment before he disappears. then, your riled-up boyfriend turns on toji.

"if you're not here for me, who could you possibly be here for?" satoru snorts, resting his chin on the top of your head. his hands intertwine as he wraps his arms around you snugly, securing you on his lap.

the next message from toji catches you and satoru off-guard, but your reactions are entirely different. you laugh and smile bashfully, while satoru nearly knocks you off of him when he yells "what?!"

toji-fushiguro: i'm here for your pretty gf duh

before satoru can fire a thousand insults toji's way, you reach up and clasp your hand over his mouth. your boyfriend's eyes widen in the reflection of his monitor, and you have to suppress the urge to ruffle his hair and kiss him stupid. sure, you'll probably make out with him after the stream, but you think that it'd be even more fun to mess with him first.

"aw, you think i'm pretty?" you ask playfully, directing your words at toji. "i've seen you around," you muse, twirling a strand of hair around your finger with the hand not covering satoru's mouth. you smile coyly at the screen before continuing, "you're not so bad yourself, honestly."

satoru whines incredulously against your hand, and you can't suppress the laugh that slips past your lips. he bounces his foot on the floor impatiently, and eventually he reaches around you and quickly presses a couple buttons to end the stream. "baby, i love you but sometimes you drive me crazy," he grumbles, hoisting you over his shoulder as he stands up. 

"let me go!"

"okay!" he replies, dropping you on his bed with a cheeky smile. satoru's eyes narrow as he watches you scramble to sit up, and you puff up your cheeks indignantly. satoru plops down next to you and pulls you into his chest, face barely an inch away from yours.

"what was that?!" satoru whines, glaring at you sullenly. he tugs at the bottom of your shirt and juts out his bottom lip in an exaggerated pout.  

"satoru, are you jealous?" you snicker, leaning in and kissing his nose. he scrunches his face up and frowns, but the corners of his mouth seem to tilt upwards. satoru pulls you into a kiss and holds you there for a second, smiling against your lips. 

"no," satoru huffs, rolling his eyes. "i'm hotter than him, and i'm not a total asshole." he wraps his arms around your waist and nudges your cheek with his nose, clear blue eyes focused on your lips. 

"true," you agree, wrapping your arms around his neck and melting into his embrace. satoru really is the best boyfriend you could ask for—everything about the two of you just works.

satoru pinches you gently and kisses your nose. "say that you love me."

you smile and close your eyes, suddenly more relaxed than you've been in the last couple days. "of course i love you, dummy."

"love you more, cheate— ow, i'm kidding, i'm kidding!"

[monzabee]

the smallest man who ever lived - cl16

masterlist || part 2 || part 3 ||

Summary: The one where you’re thrown into a conundrum when you learn the news of your husband, Charles’, infidelity.

Pairing: charles leclerc x wife!reader; carlos sainz x reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: angst, cheating, crying, manipulation(?), charles is an absolute asshole (but so is the reader) (but she’s kinda also badass?) (toxic relationship?), even more assholish carlos (gasp), blackmail, mention of pregnancy, mention of sex and sexual acts, physical confrontation (literally just pushing someone off but still)

Request: “Hey girl can I request something angsty with Charles? Maybe Charles cheating on Y/N (we’re already famous and have been married to Charles for years) and the fighting, the finding out, his guilt, angst, etc.”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! thank you to the anon who requested this because i had the time of my life working on it, and it might be the first fic i wrote in one go for the last six months or so!! also thank you to the getting cheated on playlists i found on spotify and amy dunne for giving me the inspiration to make the reader as toxic as i could. special thanks to @norrisleclercf1 and @percervall who had to listen to me talk about this fic NONSTOP. this is definitely something very different to what i usually write, but i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

There are moments in life where you feel like a complete and utter idiot. Although it could be for no apparent reason at all, there is a perfectly explainable reason why you feel like that right now, in the middle of your trailer on the set, with your manager and publicist both looking at you like you could explode at any given moment. It took you a good amount of time to wrap your head around the news, the news that wrecked you into a million of pieces which left you as the only person who can put them back together.  

“Let me get this straight,” you start, still trying to wrap your head around the news, “they were photographed leaving the club, and there’s a–?” 

“Sex tape, yes.” Your manager mumbles, earning himself a side-eye from your publicist. “It was so kindly attached to the email.”  

“And it is anonymous?” You ask, earning curt nods from both. “Well,” you manage to get out, pressing your lips together not to let out a sob, or a laugh, both? “That is very ambitious of him.” 

Your publicist shares a concerned look with your manager, then turns to you, “I guess so? How would you want us to handle this? I can buy us some time until these are released to public, but I think getting a statement ready just in case is essential given the fact that both of you are public figues. We can say that you’ll attend marriage councelling–” 

Your loud laugter cuts her off in the middle of her sentence. “And just why would we do that?” 

“I–” She gives you another concerned look as she softens her voice, which is quite uncharacteristic for her, you realise. “How would you want us to approach it then?” 

“I don’t want you to approach it at all.” You voice cuts through the tension, your gaze fixed on her. “I’ll handle it.”  

“But Charles–” She tries to reason, but you cut her off again.  

“Decided to get his dick wet where it certainly didn’t belong, he’s a big boy – he’ll survive.” Fixing her with a final look, you turn to your manager instead. “I don’t want this going to Charles or his team’s ears, that’s what the email said, and we should honour it, no?”  

His expression turns into a smirk, matching the one playing on your lips as he nods in thougt, “Would you like us to do anything else? We can talk with the production if you need a couple of days to… well, recuperate. Greta would understand.” 

“No.” Your answer is final as you shake your head. “She thinks this is an Oscar worthy project, I’m not throwing it away because my husband decided to think with his dick and not his brain. Just call my lawyers and tell them to be on stand by.” 

“Should I also book you tickets to Monaco still?” He asks in a monotone tone. 

“Well of course,” you reply in a sweet voice, widening your eyes for dramatic effect, “it’s a family event.” 

Your publicist eyes the both of you, “Okay,” as she drags the word out, “are you sure you don’t want to take a couple of days off?” 

“Positive. I have an EGOT to win.” Raising the script you have in your hands in the air, you announce, “I have lines I need to go over, is that all?”  

And as they leave your trailer to give you some space to ‘go over your lines’, you let a few tears escape your eyes, promising yourself that you would make Charles feel a thousand worse what he made you feel in the moment. 

It is not surprising or a sudden revelation that Monte Carlo has good weather all year around. But as it happens with the last few weeks following you learning about your husband’s infidelity, all you feel is cold – and no amount of warm weather is enough to make your heart feel warmer again. As you stand at the terrace of Café de Paris, overlooking the cityscape of Monte Carlo, all you can think about is how you just want to get this part of you plan over with as fast as possible.  

“Chérie!” The voice you hear makes a lump perpetually situate itself in the middle of your throat, but you brace yourself for the worst as you turn on your heels to face the person you’re most scared of facing in this whole situation. “Look at you, you look incroyable! You had me scared when you told me you were catching the redeye, and that we just had to talk!” 

“Pascale,” you breathe out as the woman pulls you into her arms with the warmness of any mother would do, and for that brief moment, you feel better than you have in weeks. “It’s so nice to see you again,” giving her the warmest smile you can muster up in the circumstances as you pull back, fixing your gaze at the figure behind her as you nod your head in acknowledgement, “Arthur.” 

“Maman is right,” Arthur says as he opens his arms, “you do look good.”  

“Well, thank you.” You reply as you give him a quick hug, and motion the table as you pull back. “Shall we?” Call it common curtesy, or cowardice, the fact that you don’t directly get to the point. Either way, you talk about what you’ve missed in the couple of months in which you’ve been away filming. You’re not necessarily paying attention, though the endtail of Pascale’s sentence catch your attention. “Excuse me, can you repeat that?” 

“Well, I was just telling how sad I was that Charles doesn’t come home as often this season. Though I understand he’s coming out to see you on set, distance can be so hard even for–” 

“He’s not coming out to see me, Pascale.” You voice is softer, and appears more broken than you would want it to be, but your words convey the message enough. It takes you a couple of moments to organise your thoughts, and Arthur calling out your name, to get you back into the moment. “There’s something I need to talk with the both of you, something I’ve already talked with Lorenzo, but I thought it would be better for you to hear it from me.”  

“Okay?” Arthur mumbles, then gives you a supportive smile, “You can tell us anything. Though don’t tell me I’m about to be an uncle because I don’t think my ego can take it at the–” 

You attempt to swallow the lump in your throat as you direct your words to the woman sitting across from you. “I’m divorcing your son, and I thought you should hear it from me and not him.”  

It takes a few minutes for both Pascale and Arthur to say something, and it concerns you that you somehow managed to give your mother in law a brain aneurism, but eventually, she manages to get out, “What? How? Why? Are you okay?”  

“I’m… fine.” You reply, albeit it comes off calculated. “I found a couple of weeks ago that he was cheating on me, I’ve came back to give him the papers myself.”  

“He what?” Arthur exclaims, then realises the level of his voice, and lowers it down as he asks, “Are you sure this is not a misunderstanding? The guy has been in love with you for over a decade, he wouldn’t do this.” With a resigning sigh, you find what you’re looking for in your phone and hand it over to Arthur. Who then, upon seeing what you have pulled up, immediately hands it back to you and turns to his mother, “Trust me you don’t want to see it.” 

“I’ve came to tell you the news, and well, to apologise.” You turn to face Pascale again.  

“Apologise?” She repeats, “Why on earth would you apologise to me when my son cheated on you?” 

“You’ve been nothing but kind to me ever since we’ve met, both of you.” You acknowledge Arthur with a look, and then focus your attention back on the woman, “Though I will make sure you don’t get caught in the crossfire in any way, I wanted to apologise for what I’m about to put your son through.”  

You honestly don’t know how you manage to act as if everything has been going fine in your life during race day. Given the fact that your husband doesn’t expect you to be at his race due to your rigorous filming schedule, and his family members being willing to hide your existence from him, you have no obstacles in your way to carry out the rest of your plan in motion. Which is exactly why you’re sat in the dark, waiting for your husband to walk through the doors of your apartment overlooking the city. With you seemingly being absent for the weekend, he has no reason to not believe that he is coming to an empty house.  

So, imagine his surprise when he enters his home; with his girlfriend in his arm, no less, and sees his wife sitting on the couch with her legs crossed and a drink in her hand. The look on his face is priceless, and despite all the pain and frustration you’re feeling, it manages to bring you some semblance of joy, knowing that it’s going to hurt him just as much as it hurt you.  

“Ma chérie,” Charles stammers, eye wide as he looks at you like a deer caught in headlights, “I – I didn’t know y–you were coming back this weekend.” 

“Well obviously,” you scoff, taking a generous sip from the drink in the glass tumbler in your hand, “otherwise you wouldn’t bring your little girlfriend into my house to fuck her.” You hear a gasp from the scaredy brunette wedging herself closer to your husband’s side, and for the first time you take a good look at her – young, much younger than you, tall, leggy; all the telltale signs that she is exactly your husband’s type. Tilting your head to the side, you rest the glass on the arm of the armchair you’re sitting in, “If you could leave now, I would greatly appreciate it.”  

You hear Charles whisper something in her ear, probably telling her to leave and that he’ll contact her tomorrow, and watch as she gives him a scowl, screeching, “You’re just going to let her throw me out?” 

“Well, considering the fact that this is my house, yes.” You give her a look of pity, watching her face light up with anger.  

“Listen to me, you bitch–” She starts, but your husband quickly cuts her off.  

“Mon cœur!” He exclaims, “S'il te plaît!” 

“Yes, listen to him, like a good little girl,” you egg her on, a smirk widening on your lips as you start swinging the leg resting on your lower one, choosing to focus on your nails instead of your husband trying to soothe his lover. 

You hear her scoff, take a few steps as her heels click on the marble floor of the entrance, “I wouldn’t be so calm if I were you, I’m not someone you want to be on bad terms with, considering the fact that he’s going to leave you for me!” 

“Oh, honey,” you coo, focusing your attention back on her and seeing the look of concern in your husband’s face through the corner of your eye, “and when did he tell you that, like a year ago? Two? Three?” A realisation dawns on her face as the smug expression starts to fade. “Don’t worry, though, you can have him when I’m done with him.” Pushing yourself off the armchair, you down the rest of the drink in the glass before slamming it down onto the glass coffee table. “And not only do I not care if you think I'm a bitch, but I hugely prefer it. Now get the fuck out of my house before I call security and get your ass thrown out.”  

You watch as she looks at Charles with indignation, lets out another screeching sound and slams the door behind her as she stomps out of your apartment. Only then you turn your gaze back to your husband, who has the guts to look at you with a worried look on his face. “How long have you known?” Is the first thing he asks you, taking a few steps closer.  

“A couple of weeks, a month, maybe?” You answer him, leaving your place to get to the small bar in the corner of your living room to get another refill of your drink. “There’s a video of the two, it somehow got into my hands, and it has very graphic details of the two of you having sex.” Popping a lemon into your cup, you make your way back to the armchair and sit down, “Are you stupid enough to cheat on me and make a fucking sex tape, Charles?” 

“I-I didn’t mean to–” He tries to plead, but you cut him off with a shake of your head.  

“You didn’t mean to what?” You ask him; your voice soothing, almost understanding, and it does the job of fooling him. “Cheat on me? Fuck another woman in my bed? Break the vows you’ve made?”  

“Ma chérie,” he whispers, “please.” 

“No.” Your voice is colder all of a sudden. “Tell me how long this has been going on for. Was I right? How many years?” 

“It started five years ago,” his voice is soft, somber and he tries to appear as genuine as he can in the situation, you suppose, “but I knew her, from before...” 

“Before what?” You’re seething now, the complete opposite of his calmness, “Did you fucking cheat me when we were dating, Charles?” 

“Ma chérie,” he gives you another pleading look, “please, I can change. I’ll go to therapy.”  

Now that, manages to get a bark of laughter from you. It’s ripped from the back of your throat, making you throw your head back as you lose yourself in the laughter to the point that there are tears in your eyes when you finally manage to calm yourself down. Putting the glass down on the coffee table once again, you wipe them off, mindful of your mascara, as you shift your attention back onto your husband. “Are fucking kidding me right now?” He gives you a concerned look, hands on his hips as he opens his mouth to answer you, but you quickly shut him down again. “You were bringing her into my house to fuck her, I caught you, I have your fucking sex tape – which is going to be streamlined for the world to see within twenty-four hours, do you honestly think I would go back to you?”  

“Wait, what?” He exclaims, looking at you with wide eyes and a shocked expression. “What do you mean they are going to streamline it, why didn’t you go to the lawyers? 

“I did go to the lawyers,” you shrug, innocently, “my lawyers,” you point out. “Why would I cover up your mistakes after everything you’ve done?” 

“Because I’m your fucking husband!” He barks, his arms widening to his sides as he finally loses his mask and his composure.  

His little tantrum only makes you let out another laugh, “Now, you’re my husband? Not when you’re cheating on me when I’m away shooting, but when you need me to clean up after your mistakes?” 

“How did you even get the video?” He asks, eyes narrowing down, “Who- who– who?” 

“Who? Who? Hoo? What are you, a fucking owl?” You exclaim, this time raising your voice. “You’re honestly more concerned about where I got it and not about the fact that the entire world is about to see you fucking someone other than your wife?” 

“What are we doing to do?” He asks, “Fuck, I have a race tomorrow.” 

“We’re not going to do anything.” You shrug, leaning forward to grab the glass and take another sip, “Or scratch that, we’re actually going to do something.” You stand up from the armchair, walk towards the table and hand him the file. “Congratulations, we’re getting a divorce.” 

“That is not happening.” He scoffs, not even bothering to look at the papers.  

“I don’t think you’re in the position to bargain with me, Charles.” You seethe, “You’re going to sign the damn papers, and you’re also going to sign away your rights to the baby.”  

“What the–?” He looks at you in disbelief, “You’re pregnant?” 

“Congratulations, it’s a boy.” You bite out, “Like you wanted.” 

“You’ve been drinking the entire night.” He points to the glass, “Do you expect me to believe you’re pregnant?” 

Offering him a sweet smile you hand him the glass, tipping it towards him, “It’s soda water, would you like a sip?” 

“Don’t make me do this,” he pleads, “give me another chance.” 

“I would’ve, if you were honest with me from the start.” You resign, a sincere look in your eyes. “I’ll give you a choice: us, or her.”  

He rears back with the offer, looking at you in disbelief. “What?” 

“You either choose me and the baby or you choose to be with her, and in that case, I will never let you near my baby, Charles.” You shake your head, wrapping your arms around your stomach protectively.  

For a second, his eyes linger around your stomach.   But you know his choice when he meets your eyes again.  

“What have we done to each other?” He whispers, and you can barely see the tears in his eyes.  

“We didn’t do anything, Charles. I gave up everything for you, but you just took me for granted.” Walking back to the dining table, you grab your coat and bag, and when you come face to face with him again, your voice is soft despite all the anger you still feel towards him. “You, Charles Leclerc, are truly the smallest man who ever lived.”  

The hotel lobby is calm and empty as you sit at the bar, and it’s surprising when you consider that fact that it is the weekend of the Monaco Grand Prix, meaning that there must be hundreds and thousands of motorsports fans visiting. Not that you’re complaining about the silence, of course. After the night you’ve had, silence and calmness are all you could ask for.  

“I’ll get a whiskey, please, whatever top shelf stuff you’ve got.” A voice cuts through the moment you are having, and you instantly recognise the distinct accent of the stranger sitting next to you. “Thought you were in the States, finishing off filming.” This time, the comment is directed to you, and you roll your eyes as you push the empty glass towards the bartender on duty.  

With a sigh, you turn to the man on your right, “What do you want, Carlos?” Your voice conveys your lack of energy, and Carlos is not dumb enough not to notice the dark circles under your eyes beneath your makeup.  

“I came to check on you.” Is his answer. Simple, curt and to the point. You’d certainly appreciate it more if you had the patience for his antics.  

“Well, you did, have a good night.” Slamming down a hundred-Euro bill onto the counter, you make a move to get up from your place, but a gentle hand on your wrist stops you. “Let me go.”  

Though there is no venom to your voice, Carlos knows that it is not the time, nor the place, to test your patience. “I’m sorry,” he starts and when you take a good look at him, you can tell that he’s being sincere, “I really did want to check up on you, and considering the fact that you have a perfectly good penthouse but instead in a hotel, I think I was right to do so.”  

Crossing your arms across your chest as you get back onto the barstool with a huff, you glare at him lightheartedly, “I didn’t want to stay in the same house as him,” raising your eyebrows, you continue with a lower voice, “thanks to chilisade5594@gmail.com, but I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.” The way his cheeks redden under the dim lights of the lobby bar would make you chuckle under normal circumstances, but you push the thought aside, “Honestly, what were you thinking? You’re lucky it was me who realised it was you, if it was my agent or publicist, we’d have another scandal to deal with.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he brushes you off with a swat of his hand, “I’m sorry I put you into that position.” 

“Don’t be,” you mumble, tilting your head to the side, “I wouldn’t have known if you hadn’t sent me the video. Just tell me why you did it.” 

“What?” He turns you with a confused look on his face.  

“Why, Carlos?” You ask, voice encouraging yet soft, “Why did you send it? Why now?” 

He keeps quiet for a while, not answering your questions but not taking his gaze off you either. Eventually, he exhales a deep sigh as he gives you a sheepish shrug, “I didn’t like the way he treated you. And I didn’t want to make you worry about it without concrete proof, so I guess everything just... worked out.”  

“Huh,” you let out a small hum in agreement, “I guess you’re right.”  

Expecting more than the words you chose to answer him with, he raises an eyebrow as he takes a big gulp of whiskey from his glass. “That’s it?” 

“Well, what more is it there to say?” You ask, sheepishly shrugging. “We’re getting a divorce; he’s going to move out and I’m gonna make sure the entire world knows just why.” 

Carlos flags down the bartender as he mumbles, “I feel like you need a stronger drink if we’re going to talk about your impending divorce, cariño.” 

Taking a deep breath and exhaling an even deeper sigh, you shake your head. “I can’t.” Thank God Carlos is one of the people who is the proud owner of a braincell around you, because he catches your insinuation quickly.  

With widened eyes, he quickly turns towards you, eyes softening as you offer him a sad smile. “Dios mío,” he murmurs, eyes running over you worriedly, “are you okay?” 

“Well... no.” You let out an unexpected laugh at his expression, patting him on the shoulder lightheartedly. “I’ll be fine, Carlos, I’m a big girl. I can handle this.” 

“I know you will,” he assures you, “but does Charles know?” 

Now that manages to bring a grimace to your face. “He signed his parental rights away along with the divorce papers.” The look he gives you after hearing your words has you worried that his eyes are going to pop out of their sockets, but you try to calm him down as best as you can. “Carlos, it’s fine.” 

“It’s most certainly not!” He exclaims, his voice echoing in the almost empty hotel lobby. “Is he out of his mind?”  

You give him an awkward smile and another shrug of your shoulders. "I... feel like whatever I’m going to say is going to be wrong. So... yes?”

“Cariño,” he says, exasperated, “how are you so normal about this?” 

“Lots of women raise their kids as single mothers while working, Carlos.” Your expression quickly taking the form of a frown, “I can handle this, I don’t need Charles or anyone else to hold my hand and tell me I’m doing such a good job.” 

“I know you can do this alone, tonta,” he rolls his eyes as the endearment making you roll your eyes, “but you’re not going to be alone. Because I’m here.” There’s a certain finality to his words. And just as you’re about to object to his words, he quickly shuts you down. “I know you can do this on your own, but you don’t have to, okay? I’m going to be with you every step of the way.”  

“What if I need waffles in the middle of the night?” You ask, your eyebrow raised in a skeptical way.  

“I’ll adjust my pancake recipe.” His reply his immediate, and he shrugs lightly as he adds, “Pancakes are better, anyway.”  

Rolling your eyes you continue, “What if I need someone to hold my hand in the delivery room? It can get quite gruesome, you know?” 

He provides you with another nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. “I’ve never really been affected by it.”  

“Okay, this is ridiculous, Carlos!” You exclaim, pushing yourself off your seat as you turn your body to face him. “I don’t need you to bail me out, I don’t need your help!” 

“I know you don’t,” he nods.  

“I am capable of doing this on my own!” You shriek, and the fact that your face is starting to get progressively redder worries Carlos.  

“I know you are, but–” he tries to reason.  

“No buts! I’m going to be a good mother, okay?” You point an accusatory finger towards him. “I’m going to choose him!” 

The way your voice breaks at the end of your sentence has Carlos instinctively pull you into his arms, which is not that hard given the fact that you are almost the same height as him as you stand in front of the bar stool he’s sitting on, and he doesn’t say a word as you sob into his chest – letting out all the emotion you’ve bottled up over the past few weeks, no less. He doesn’t you offer you empty promises or tries to soothe you with cliché phrases. Instead, he stands still, holding you between his arms as you sob continuously into his chest. Giving the bar tender an awkward smile over your shoulder, he hands him his card to close out your tabs.  

He only starts talking again once you’ve pulled away and trying to wipe the remnants of your tears from under your eyes. “Do you feel better now?” He asks, handing you a napkin.  

“Yeah,” you mumble, sniffing as you play with the corners of the napkin. Then, you flip your eyes toward his, and fix him with a glare. “You are not becoming my kid’s stepdad.” 

“Of course not, cariño,” he assures you, “I’ll be the dad that stepped up instead.” 

You let out a teary chuckle as you slap him lightly on his chest. “I’m serious, Carlos.” 

“So am I.” He replies softly, and you can see the genuine look on his face. “You’re not alone anymore, I’m choosing you.” Tentatively, he presses his hand softly against your stomach as he maintains your gaze. “Both of you.” 

And though the last thing you want is a promise, this one seems like a real one. So, you let yourself believe that he might just keep it up. 

[xmanicmushroomx]

your birthday party || katsuki bakugou

tags: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader, mha, bnha, y/n’s birthday party

cws: cute pre-relationship fluff👼🏼

katsuki bakugou who doesn’t want to admit that he likes you, at first. all of his friends were enamored with you — things like “she’s just the sweetest!” from mina ashido, and “damn, do you see that ass?” from eijirou kirishima — but he couldn’t bring himself to speak his own thoughts out loud.

katsuki bakugou who pretends to be cool and nonchalant when you finally work up the nerve to talk to him individually, but his heart is pounding just as hard as yours.

katsuki bakugou who is nothing short of shocked to find it’s you knocking on his dorm room door, holding out a sparkly invitation to your birthday party the next weekend. [he accepts it with a “yeah i can try to be there”, but definitely mumbled something about the “fucking glitter” after you walked away grinning.]

katsuki bakugou who complains to kirishima when he can’t find anything you might like as a present in the mall, then gets red in the face when kiri asks why he cares so much. [“because it’s a nice thing to do, shitty hair!”]

katsuki bakugou who shows up to your birthday party with no gift in his hands [you don’t care, his presence is enough], but goes out of his way to tell you “happy birthday” discreetly.

katsuki bakugou who almost brings the building down when he finds a guy trying to make a move on you after you’re clearly uninterested and uncomfortable, berating him in front of the whole party. [“she said no, you dumbass idiot! get the fuck out of here before i really explode on you!”]

katsuki bakugou who finds you sniffling on the balcony, apologizing for causing a scene. [“hey, i’m sorry about that back there… i didn’t mean to ruin your party.”]

katsuki bakugou who smirks proudly when you tell him he did not, in fact, ruin the party, and that you were just teary-eyed with relief that the future number-one hero came to your rescue.

katsuki bakugou who pulls a small box from his chest pocket and sets it on the railing beside you. [“i, uh — saw this and thought you might like it. but don’t get any ideas, nerd.”]

katsuki bakugou who bought you the most gorgeous ruby necklace, with a pendant that has your name engraved on it. [you definitely started crying again. “this is the nicest thing anyone’s ever gotten me!”]

katsuki bakugou who gently puts the necklace on you, heart pounding as his fingers brush the nape of your neck, smirking as he pulls away and gets a good look at it. [“it suits you. pretty necklace for a pretty girl.”]

katsuki bakugou who promptly excuses himself, saying it’s past his bedtime and leaving you flabbergasted on the balcony. [he definitely can’t stop smiling and replaying the moment in his head when he closes his dorm room door.]

[forlix]

𝘀𝘂𝗯𝘁𝗲𝘅𝘁・l.f.

— in which you forget that your hot housemate follows you on twitter.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀・1.1k 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴・roommate!felix x gn!streamer!reader 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲𝘀・fluff, flirting, kind of an smau, implied friends to lovers, humor if u count jeongin being a piece of shit

𝗮/𝗻・saw this tweet the other day and it was so painfully lix coded that i knew i had to write something asap. contains a tiny bit of gaming jargon but is hopefully comprehensible. ENJOY ♡

y/n ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ @ y/nxx

if someone brings you fresh cut fruit to your table when you're gaming, they either like LIKE you or it's your mom

11:23 A.M.・Oct. 2023・220.2K Views

bokkie 🐣 liked your post.

“My tweet?”

You read aloud the newest text in your chatroom, and your face brightens when you remember the one in question.

“Oh, about the fruit—no, it’s so true though. And I love my mom, don't get me wrong, but I have an inkling she did it to guilt trip me." You change your posture and adopt your best motherly tone of voice. "‘This is your tenth consecutive hour wasting your young adulthood in front of that damn screen. I am now going to hand deliver apple slices straight to your mouth.’ That kind of vibe, y'know?"

A slew of messages follows your anecdote, but it is a comment from one of your moderators that catches your eye first:

je0ng1n: what about the other option tho 👀

You groan at the sight of his username. “Man, why are you always here? Don't you have a job?"

je0ng1n: i’m on break je0ng1n: taking a dump je0ng1n: ungrateful bitch

You brandish a middle finger to the camera. “Hope the dump sucks."

je0ng1n: HEY je0ng1n: don’t even joke about that :(

An involuntary cackle precedes your next words. “If you’re actually wondering, though, the only person who’s brought me fruit while I’m playing video games is indeed my mother. Heartbreaking, I know.”

At this, the steady flow of messages morphs into a gallery of depressed cat emoticons; your audience never fails to impress you with their way with words.

“But if someone other than your disappointed parent is bringing you fruit,” you go on, “they might as well get on one knee in the process, honestly. That's such an adorable, loving thing to do.”

Suddenly, the words MATCH FOUND splash across your monitor, and you move your cursor to accept the game invite—only to be met with a pop-up window and a familiar error sound that grates on your ears like screeching tires.

You know how this story ends: the lights in your mouse go dark, and you look on in dejected silence.

je0ng1n: LMFAOOOOO je0ng1n: bro’s mouse definitely just exploded again

“You guessed it," you sigh. “Hang tight for a sec, guys."

Half an hour ago, you could’ve sworn you heard sneakers being kicked off, a set of keys falling against plastic. Now, you pull one side of your headphones off and roll your chair a few feet backward, calling through your half-open door: “Lix, are you home?”

You pick up on a soft clunk that sounds like metal hitting wood—the cutting board, maybe?—and then your housemate's low, accented answer bounces off the walls of your shared hallway.

“Yeah, you alright?”

“The mouse,” you say helplessly.

“Ah.” It’s not the first time you’ve summoned him for this. “Be right there.”

A few seconds later, you remember to tack on a hurried disclaimer: “I’m live, by the way!”

“I know.”

This brings a bashful smile to your face, though the expression quickly turns to one of pure dismay when you return to your desk and witness the disastrous state of your chat.

Felix has become a regular guest on your stream by now, always popping in to show you a TikTok or ask for your opinion on a new pair of jeans or simply give your camera an awkward wave—but he may as well own your channel with how completely and unequivocally he has captured the hearts of your viewers. They’re convinced he’s the sexiest person to ever grace the earth, with his chiseled features and coffee-colored eyes; with a grin that could set entire estates on fire and a voice that could scrape the nadir of the Grand Canyon.

Do you agree? Absolutely.

Do you have any intention of voicing this sentiment, so long as you’re splitting rent with him? Absolutely the hell not.

Another of Jeongin’s messages—GET ME HIS NUMBER OR I GET VIOLENT—inspires you to minimize the stream window before Felix gets here. It’s for the best.

A few moments later, the door opens, and the air shifts inside your room. A hand comes to rest on the top of your head; a familiar silhouette appears in your periphery. There is a fond grin plastered across your face and a bright greeting sitting readily on the tip of your tongue.

But then, Felix places a plate of freshly cut fruit in the empty space to the left of your keyboard—here, he hums, the sound falling against the shell of your ear like a drop of melted chocolate. And the gears of your brain grind to a complete stop.

There is no further acknowledgment; no supplementary explanation for what he's just done. He simply picks up your mouse and gets to work.

The words of your tweet swim dizzyingly before your eyes, not unlike those halos of stars and birds that revolve around disoriented cartoon characters. And you’re suddenly, achingly aware of your roommate's arm nudging against yours as he tinkers away; of the aromas of vanilla and laundry detergent that always come with his proximity; of the heat that’s risen to your face, and the plethora of questions that have surfaced to your mind.

A soft huff of laughter follows a gentle utterance of your name, and you snap out of your trance. Felix’s eyes are glinting with amusement when you meet them.

“It’s been recalibrated,” he says, handing back your mouse. “Just give it a few minutes.”

Your fingertips brush over his palm when you accept the object, and even this blink of contact has your heart performing an elaborate hopscotch routine across the plane of your chest.

It’s either your mom, or…

“Thank you,” you mumble, finally retrieving your larynx from the bottom of the Atlantic.

“Anytime,” Felix returns, and you know he means it. “You need a duo, by the way?"

“Yes, please.”

He gives you a warm smile at this, and there’s a hint of something else—something new—in the curve of his lips. “Give me two.” And he’s gone as quickly as he'd come.

You will never know how Felix slips his phone out of his pocket the second he emerges from your room, his pulse hounding his ears as he turns a nervous gaze upon his screen.

There is now a supersonic blur of messages saturating your chatroom, a colorful cacophony of moving emotes and capital letters, but he is focused wholly on the person in front of the camera and how you slowly lift a hand to your mouth, deathly silent despite your every viewer demanding your comment on the matter, your sanguine cheeks visible even through the gaps of your fingers.

That is all he needs to know.

Felix sinks into the leather of his gaming chair and bends to power on his computer. Only after a deep breath blows past his lips does his smile start to stretch into a grin, every bit as embarrassed as it is relieved.

je0ng1n: no way je0ng1n: no fucking way je0ng1n: my heart fluttered je0ng1n: wtf je0ng1n: how’d you pull HIM??

y/nxx has removed je0ng1n as a moderator of this channel.

𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other works here. thanks so much for the support ♡

© 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘅 (est. 090323) · all works are pieces of original writing and all characters and relationships are purely fictional. please do not repost or reuse for any reason.

[o0sleepingdead0o]

Prepared for Anything Pt. 3

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4, MasterPost

What was with Danny’s luck and fires? He wondered as he searched a warehouse he’d come across for survivors. He’d been flying home(invisibly of course) when a nearby building had exploded. Flames licked at the grease spattered floor and ate at old crates, but the biggest issue was the smoke. It billowed thickly like the smog that filled Gotham’s skies, and impeded even Danny’s enhanced vision. He could taste the ash in the air. He knew there were people here. He heard someone coughing and the sound of fighting going on ahead. 

He forged onward, dashing towards the sounds, and the layers of smoke lessened enough for Danny to see what was taking place.

The first thing he noticed was the scuffle. About a dozen of what were clearly henchmen fired guns and grappled with. . .

Danny sighed.

More vigilantes.

One wore purple and had long, blonde hair. The other wore black with gold accents, and a mask covered her face. Both sides of the fight wore rebreathers.

The second thing Danny noticed was the red vigilante with bandoliers across his chest, bound with chains, and hanging by the ceiling. He hung over a vat of boiling oil that was alit with flames.

. . .

. . .

What was this? Some scene from a childrens’ cartoon?

Danny hurried forward, egged on by the lung Red was hacking up, one who very much was not wearing a rebreather.

Danny pointed a finger at the chain suspending the poor vigilante, and shot a small ecto-blast from the tip. The chain broke.

The vigilante screamed as he fell towards the boiling vat and Danny leapt to intercept him mid-air.

“Huu—“ The vigilante huffed at the impact, Danny’s shoes squealing as he landed and skidded to a halt.

The red guy wheezed. “Thanks.”

“Sure. Couldn’t just leave you hanging around, now could I?” Danny grinned.

Tim groaned.

Danny didn’t think the vigilante had room to complain.

Immediately, they were beset by attackers.

“Oop.” Danny dodged a bullet, shifting only the needed inch to avoid it. “Hey! Watch it! I’ve got cargo!”

“Carg—?!” The vigilante tried, only to hack again. He sounded offended. Danny didn’t really care.

A few goons were closing in on them from all sides, and Danny found it highly annoying that they were interfering with his mission to get this damsel in distress outside to fresh air. It wouldn’t take too long to knock ‘em out, but still.

One of the lackeys raised his weapon and Danny prepared to—

Flying in from the left came a foot, clocking the man in the jaw. Danny watched a small and lithe black figure move like she was the manifestation of violent, deadly grace itself. Danny was in awe as she took the man out, gliding and dancing as if it was all she breathed and all she lived. Her movements were efficient and so quick, Danny could barely catch the motions taking out the next three men after.  She tore through them like they were nothing. They fell at her feet as if they were insignificant gnats, as if one look was enough from the goddess of death over here to kill them.

She turned to Danny when she’d cleared his immediate attackers, and he stared at her, mouth slightly agape. His heart fluttered.

“That was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. . .” Danny muttered mostly to himself. He could watch her do that over and over and over again and never get tired of it. It was captivating.

The black vigilante went still for a moment, her eyes seeming to lock with his through her mask, before motioning for him to flee.

“Right.” Danny dashed past her, lugging the red one in a bridal carry. A fireman’s carry would probably be hard on his lungs.

“Wh—at w—s tha—t?!” The red one coughed up. Danny couldn’t tell if he was laughing at him or judging him. Or both.

“Shush.”

Danny blew through the nearest doors of the warehouse to meet fresh air and sucked in a deep breath. The smoke didn’t bother him, but this was still nice. He distanced himself from the warehouse quickly, worried about wasting time and risking this dude’s life. Or health. Danny had no idea how bad the smoke inhalation was. Pretty bad, he was guessing.

Danny laid him down in some alley. Mechanical whirring announced who had arrived. Danny looked up as the purple and black vigilantes dropped down from the roofs.

Danny’s eyes briefly glanced over Purple to rest on Black.

“Oh, hey. That was quick.”

The purple one shrugged. “We were almost done any—where did that come from?”

Danny uncoiled the tube to the oxygen tank and mask, fixing it over the baffled face of Red.

“Huh?” Danny fiddled with the knob on the tank and Red took deep breaths.

“You just have an oxygen tank on you at all times?” The purple one laughed.

“You don’t?” Danny countered. He tried not to smirk as Purple choked on her laugh.

“I was joking!”

Danny shrugged.

“Good job.” Black complimented and Danny’s heart palpitated. Her voice was so soft and gentle and the most melodious thing he’s ever heard.

“Yeah, thanks, I mean, no problem, just passing by, I'm in burning buildings all the time, wasn't any trouble." Danny rambled as he went back to fumbling with the knobs.

"Wait, what?" Red croaked.

Purple took in a long breath, as if hit with some amazing bit of realization.

Danny abruptly stood where he’d been sitting on the ground next to Red.

“Here. These are for you.” Danny thrust his hand out to Black, holding a bouquet of exotic, beautiful flowers, native to the Infinite Realms, and at least six times the size of his head.

Purple nearly seized back. “What the—?! Where are these things coming from?!”

Danny had received a multitude of bouquets for his coronation and he was suddenly very glad that he’d frozen them in time to decorate his keep with. Jazz had insisted it would brighten up the place.

“Ah, well, you never know when you might need a professionally done, extravagant bouquet of exotic wildflowers to present to your rescuer. You were my knight in shining. . .whatever kinda armour that is. . .”

Purple’s jaw went slack. Black seemed to pause before shrugging lightly and looking away, curling a little into herself as if embarrassed. Her body language said she was still happy, though. She carefully took the bouquet from him.

Danny was gonna die again. The butterflies were going to mutate and burst out of his stomach.

“Oh my gosh! Stop flirting over my dying body!” Red interrupted.

Danny spluttered. “I am not—“

“You totally are!!” Purple cackled as if this was the most entertainment she’s had in weeks.

Danny ignored her. “Anyway, can I have your name?” He asked Black.

“Wait. . .”Purple tried to get herself under control. “You don’t know who we are?”

Danny shrugged. “I’m, uh. . .from outta town.”

“Well, that was kinda obvious.” Red said.

“Orphan.” Black gestured to herself.

Danny paused. He blinked. Alright, that was. . .that was some oddly personal information to go straight to, but okay.

“I’m. . .sorry for your loss.”

Purple guffawed and slapped a hand over her mouth. Red hacked up another lung. He was gonna run out soon.

Black shook ever so subtly with her own laughter and Danny nearly melted.

“No. Name.” She gestured to herself. “Orphan.”

“It’s her vigilante name.” Purple was still laughing.

“Ah. . .yes. . .right.” Danny blushed. “My name’s Danny. It’s nice to meet y'all.” His words implied he spoke to all of them, but he looked only at Orphan.

“Yeah, I’m lucky you were there to grab me. I don’t know how that chain broke.” Red said from where he’d sat up from the ground. Danny’s lips pursed. He honestly kept forgetting about him.

Purple took a steadying breath, warding off the laughter still treading her words. “We should probably get him some medical attention.”

“Psh, I’m fine.”

“I thought you said you were dying?” Danny asked.

“That was like, ten seconds ago, I’m fine now.”

“Yeah, about as fine as a chain smoker with a drinking problem. Have you heard yourself? It’s like you swallowed a sword and gave it a good swishing around down there.” Purple retorted.

Red scoffed.

Danny backed out of the alley, flashing Orphan a smile before disappearing.

<><><><>

“What happened to all your food?!”

Danny came home to Jason(AKA Red Hood. {The wacky ectoplasm kinda made it obvious. Danny was working on that}) peering into his fridge judgementally as if it was an a affront to his person. “I loaded it up just a couple days ago!”

Danny reached past his friend to grab the orange juice and poured himself a glass. He went to sit at the counter. “I ate it all. Duh.”

“There was a week’s worth in there!” Jason gestured indignantly at the empty fridge, staring at Danny.

Danny took a long sip of his juice, keeping eye contact with Jason all the while. When his thirst was parched, he set the cup down with a quiet clink. He leaned his elbows on the counter to hold his face. 

“Obviously not, because I ate it all.”

Jason pinched his nose and sighed before letting the fridge door drift closed. He poured the kettle he must’ve boiled earlier into a prepared mug.

Danny stared down at his half-emptied glass. “I think I’m in love.” He murmured thoughtfully into it.

The tea bag bobbing in Jason’s mug paused, before continuing. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” Danny sighed, mournfully. He wondered if Orphan would care if he was half-dead or from another dimension. Would he meet her again? He really, really hoped so. “I met her in a burning building.”

“. . .What?”

“Yeah, what an amazing coincidence, right?”

“That’s not—“

“She was so cool.”

“. . .kaaay?”

How did Danny get her attention? He couldn’t just show up wherever she was vigilante-ing, could he? He didn’t want her to feel like he was stalking her.

Danny shuddered and made a face. Ugh. Ew.

No. He needed to find another way.

A small smile wound it’s way over his lips as an idea came to him.

“What’s her name?” Jason asked.

“Umm, you’ve probably heard of her. She said her name was Orphan.”

Jason choked on his tea.

[forever-rogue]

hi, angel! i saw that you were open for requests and i was hoping i could shoot my shot 🥹 i’m such a sucker for the idiots-to-lovers / ditzy!reader trope lmaooo so could i pretty please request one for eddie where he’s just so down bad for the reader but she just brushes off any kind of affection from him, not because she doesn’t like him back but because she just doesn’t think anybody would ever like her like that (totally not self-projecting woops) lol sorry if it’s too specific or something! totally okay if you don’t end up writing this ❤️ ily!!!

AN | Well, well, well, if it isn’t ditzy!reader and blind Eddie. These two are just so 🥰

Warnings | Language

Pairing | Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.1k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Soft. 

Your skin was so soft that it was causing Eddie’s mind to practically explode. He’d noticed it before but there was something so extra about it today. 

“Umm,” he heard your soft laugh and slowly came back to reality, “you can let go of me now Eddie.”

“Oh,” he shook his head to himself and let go of your waist, taking a step back and clearing his throat, “s-sorry. Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you gave him a pretty smile, bright and sweet, “I wasn’t watching where I was going and I tripped over my feet. I hate when I do that. I need to pay more attention but sometimes it’s hard.”

“I’ll be there to catch you,” he promised softly as you beamed at him. You put your hand on his shoulder and leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek. Eddie opened and closed his mouth a few times, “uhh…I-I-”

“There’s Steve and Robin,” your attention quickly went to your friends as they pulled up to the park. You reached for Eddie’s hand and pulled him along with you, “c’mon!”

There was something about the feeling of your smaller hand holding onto his that made his stomach flip. He quickly followed after you, a dopey smile on his face. As soon as  Steve saw the two of you, there was a knowing smile on his face. Eddie pointedly glared at the boy, knowing exactly what he was thinking. Steve had been pushing Eddie to ask you for as long as he could remember but Eddie always said no. He could never understand why; the two of you were thick as thieves and it was obvious to almost everyone else that the two of you were much more than just friends. 

“Hey guys,” Steve drawled softly as he opened the back door for you to slide in next to Robin, “the two of you were looking awfully cozy.”

Eddie’s face turned a pretty shade of pink as he buckled his seatbelt. You laughed softly before shaking your head, “I tripped and Eddie caught me. He definitely saved me from banging up my face.”

“Can’t have you hurting that pretty face,” he agreed; Eddie wished he could melt into the seat. You exchanged a look with Robin and she rolled her eyes, causing you to huff with laughter under your breath, “alright, who’s ready for adventure?”

“Me,” Eddie said pointedly, willing Steve to start driving, “let’s go.”

“Say no more,” the two men fell into silence as you and Robin were excitedly twittering about in the back of the car. Steve caught Eddie’s eye in the rearview and offered him a small smile he hoped Eddie would know was a thing of solidarity. Eddie’s lips pulled into a thin line as he offered his friend a small nod. 

You were absolutely going to be the death of him. 

Unless he actually did something about it. But that seemed like a hurdle he wasn’t quite ready to take on.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Eddie startled as he heard loud knocking at his door; it was so urgent and sudden that he heard it over the sound of the rain and the guitar he was softly strumming. He grumbled before setting the instrument down and making his way to the door. It was a rainy mid-week afternoon, so he had no clue who would have come round this time of day.

“Hello?” Eddie opened the door slowly, but was immediately thrown into a warm hug by you. He stumbled backward for a moment before hugging you back, feeling at peace just by having your presence there, “what’re you doing here, sweetheart?”

“It’s raining,” you pulled back from him and it was then that Eddie noticed you were wearing a rain slicker but your hair and face were wet. You brushed some of the water away from your face as you grinned at him, “oh. Sorry, I didn’t mean to get you so wet.”

“Yes…it is,” he nodded slowly, his hands settling on your shoulder, “do you want to come in? I can grab some warm clothes and we can-”

“No,” you reached for his hand and held it tightly in yours, “you gotta come with me! To go to the pond!”

“What’s at the pond that is so important?” he wasn’t thrilled with the idea of you out in the rain and getting wet.

“Everything,” you took his hand and started to pull out of the door of the trailer, “all the creatures are out, and it sounds so cool when the rain hits the pond! C’mon, let’s go and see.”

“Are you sure?” he was loathe to deny you anything. He actually thought you were adorable with how excited you were to take him to the pond. You were already nodding and looked at him with wide eyes. Eddie shook his head in amusement before reaching for his jacket and quickly slipping it on along with his boots, “alright then, show me this magic.”

“You’re the best Eddie,” you slipped your fingers in between his and tugged him along with you. You lived near Eddie and the pond was in between your places. It was a spot the two of you spent a lot of time at when it was nice out in the spring and summer. 

He tried to keep his cool at the way you casually offered him your hand, a token sign of affection. But internally he was freaking out at the feel of your much smaller hand in his. He gave yours a squeeze, not caring that the two of you were getting absolutely drenched. He could always dry off later - making memories was far more important.

You stopped in front of the pond, watching excitedly as the rain fell onto the water, loud and steady but also so calming. There were frogs singing and other critters that were out and gathering around the pond. The excitement on your face was palpable as you took in the scene. It made Eddie happy too; to see the natural flow of life and how it made you feel.

“It’s so pretty here,” you reached and plucked a small yellow flower from the ground, looking at it for a moment before holding it out to Eddie, “for you - a flower for my flower.”

Eddie’s stomach churned as he swallowed the lump in his throat. He reached for it and gently took it from your hand before tucking it behind his ear, “t-thank you.”

Your response came in the form of a big smile as reached for his hand to bring him closer, “thank you for sharing this with me. Coming here. You’re the best Eddie.”

He felt a rush of affection for you, even more than he already did. He squeezed your hand gently, “thank you for sharing this with me.”

“Anytime,” you gave him a smile, “there’s no one else I’d rather be here with.”

And that his heart almost burst into his chest.

He loved you. He decided then that he would tell you….one day.

Soon. Soon. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Oh! I’ve got a date tomorrow night,” you threw your declaration so nonchalantly as you and Eddie walked out of the movie theater. Eddie felt like a wave of icy ocean water hit him as you walked towards his van. He really hoped that he didn’t hear you correctly. When you noticed his silence you turned to him with concern etched on your features, “Eddie? What’s wrong?”

“What did you say?” he asked as you leaned against the side of the van. The look on his face was not what you had expected; he looked almost angry, but underneath it all was a look of hurt.

“I just said that I have a date tomorrow night,” you shrugged it off, trying to ignore the prickling feeling running down your spine, “that’s all. Nothing important.”

He huffed, unable to control his reaction. Sure, you’d been on dates here and there but it was never anything that had seemed important. But now he wasn’t so sure, “cool, cool, cool. I’m sure you’ll have lots of fun.” 

Eddie started to move around to the driver’s side but you quickly reached for him, wrapping your fingers around his wrist, “Eddie? What’s wrong? Why are you acting like…this?”

His shoulders rose and fell softly as he shook his head. You dropped his wrist, feeling your eyes immediately prickle with tears, “you don’t get it, do you?”

“I don’t…understand,” your eyes were wide as you tried to figure out what he was saying, “what do you mean, Eddie?”

He ran a hand through his hair in frustration before groaning slightly, “I’m in love with you.”

That was definitely not what you’d been expecting to hear at all. A million different thoughts raced through your mind as your heart jumped around in your chest, “Eddie?”

“I’ve been in love with you for so long,” he whispered, unable to look at your eyes, “I just…I’ve never been able to say it before. But the idea of you going out on a date with someone else, someone not me, makes me feel so….sad. I don’t want you to go out with anyone else.”

“I-I don’t….” you paused, waiving your hand around, trying to make sense of it all. But then it hit you - holy shit. He’d just confessed his love for you, “you love me?”

“Yeah,” he let out a nervous laugh as his cheeks felt like they were on fire, “I do. I have for a long time.”

“Oh,” you chewed on your lip. You would have never thought that was possible, “I didn’t know. I thought you didn’t like me. Not like that.”

“How could you ever think that I wouldn’t like you?” he came a little closer to you, “I thought it was so obvious. I just thought you didn’t feel the same way.”

And then you laughed. You couldn’t help it as you looked at him with pure awe in your eyes. Eddie swallowed thickly as he hoped that you weren’t just laughing at him, “that’s so funny. ‘Cause I definitely thought it was obvious that I liked you too. I just thought you’d never be interested in me.”

And then it hit Eddie all at once. The two of you were idiots and had been blind. 

He grinned at you, a matching smile on your face as reality sunk in. 

He reached for your face, his hands gentle on your skin as he studied. He’d done this many times before but something about it in that moment felt so much different. Heavier and more important. You leaned into his touch, turning your face to press a kiss to his palm. He studied you for a few more moments before leaning in closer, leaving only a small distance between your bodies.

You could see the questioning look in his eye and nodded softly, leaning in and closing the remaining gap. The feel of his lips on yours was nothing like you’d expected - it was even better than you could have ever imagined. 

It felt like the most right thing in the world; like the two of you had been doing this for so long. Like you had always been meant to be doing it. You two only separated when you were desperate for a breath of air.

You touched your lips, almost as if trying to make sure that you had actually kissed Eddie. 

“Umm,” you were nervous, rocking back and forth on your heels as you beamed at him, “that was….something.”

“It was definitely something,” he agreed with a cheeky grin that made you laugh softly, “I think we should try that again…just to make sure it really was something.”

“Oh yeah,” you pretended to muse over what he had said before touching his face, “I agree…we should definitely make sure. For science.”

“For science,” he agreed softly before kissing you again, “I’ve been wanting to say I love you for so long and now I can finally say it.”

“I love you too, Eddie,” you stole a few more kisses from his pretty, plumped lips, “I like saying it too. And hearing it. Can you say it again? Please?”

“I love you,” he said, almost like a promise…you supposed it was, “and I really like kissing you. Everything…all of it.”

“I love you,” you whispered in turn, “everything and all of you.”

[onyourhyuck]

EXCHANGE LESSONS | L.MK

Pairing: mark lee x fem!oc

Summary: You’re the top student in every subject and your classmate!mark asks for your help in science and you offer the unprecedented exchange lessons that leave him off guard.

genre: smut, tutoring, classmates, inexperienced female oc, the concept of virginity being taken (it’s a social construct but you get it) and dominant!mark. minor groping, pussy eating and penetrating sex. Releasing on stomach, unprotected sex (please use a condom irl)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You’re at the top of the food chain in every subject. Your desolated heart and effortless mind astounds the entire community around you. Since you’re such a smart and passionate individual, people doubt you have any flaws.

But that’s not so true. You do suck at one subject; Sex. Your body and mind leave your soul every moment you tried doing the most remote action like making out — you suck at it.

Perhaps it’s because you’re not comfortable enough with the person? Or maybe the idea of being sexually active is a new concept to you. This puts you at a frustrating disadvantage. You want to experience what it is like to be held by another person, to be worshipped and loved by every curve you have. You really want to experience intimacy. Someone’s hands holding your waist with fingers scrolling circles on your bare skin. Dancing out in heavy rain? Angry makeouts. Jealousy. You want to experience those rollercoasters of emotions. But you can’t because you’re missing the second person. This was no way a one man action.

That was until an opportunity arises. The boy in your class that wasn’t so good at any of his classes, barely scraping by. He had a thick foreign accent - and he never stops boosting about how he’s from Canada. He was visibly attractive. Most girls in your class fancy him.

Mark never really spent his day alone. Ever. There will always be people surrounding him. It’s like this was his world and we’re all just living in it you know?

“Hey Y/n,” A voice strikes up from behind. The boy standing only few inches from your height with a beige cap on backwards. It gave him a real bandboyish look today.

Your eyes dart to him. At first you look visibly confused but you manage to respond with a very soft greet. “Hey what’s up?”

You guys barely talk so this was all very new. The most talks you ever did was a simple ‘good morning’ to each other and never speak again. In fact this felt very awkward on your end.

Mark’s eyes look on the very left end of the lockers. The built tone body wearing these very baggy clothing press up on the metallic doors. Voice trailing off in an obvious direction. “Uhh, you know nothin’ much. The usual you know how it is.”

‘Yikes why does he look suddenly so guilty and suspicious?’ You question in your own mind. What was this strange feeling in your stomach? Like a hollow pit about to explode.

You mumbles quietly. “Right…”

Turning around your locker slams shut. The stuff you needed was carried by your arms. You thought this conversation had ended considering Mark wasn’t spitting out anything he wanted to say but the moment your back had turned on him, the boy quickly leaps in front of your path.

“Wait!” Mark stops you with two hands urgently.

You stop now with a small shock spread on your eyebrows and a visible streak of annoyance in your eyes.

“Tutor me! I want you to tutor me,” Mark said with a little pant to those syllables he stressed out with a stretch. Those hands come down and it really looks like for a moment he was embarrassed to ask. As if he had no idea how to ask you.

That’s all he wanted from you. It was a tutoring lesson so he could boost his grade up. Because lord knows he needs a good number. Otherwise he is finished with this class.

Your eyes line themselves on the boy. “You want me to tutor you?” You repeated back, Mark gave a simple nod. “Why me? You could have asked someone else.”

He furrows those eyebrows. “You seem- cool enough.” Mark then paused and panicked. Your expression seems unhappy by that anticlimactic response. “I mean! Your notes are cool and easy to understand. You explain things well.”

Well that came out wrong, what he wanted to say is you’re cool enough and you’re the smartest in the class. He doesn’t think he ever saw you get a bad grade.

Deep in your heart you couldn’t say no. Mark seems to be desperate for your help and you technically had an alternative motive. As bad as that sounds you can actually imagine losing your first deed to Mark. He was handsome, without a doubt you maybe fantasised getting off to him before. You don’t want to admit it but you did it more than once.

He was the new boy, wild and bright. Radiant and sweet. He was respectful, popular with everyone he hardly has any enemies. No one could hate a guy like Mark. He was a foreign exchange student from Canada and what more, he was an amazing soccer player last year. He won for your school club a trophy. He’s done pretty remarkable things.

Except his classes, which he severely needs your help with.

Sitting down in your bedroom, you constantly glance over to Mark who was sitting on the other end of your bed writing down on his notebook. To which your mind was at a war between asking him if he wants to do something else or if you should leave your stupid idea behind.

You are lost on how to approach the idea to him. You can’t just say ‘Hey let’s sleep together!’ And look like a sane person. Because that’s the opposite of normal. You barely know the guy too.

Your body lifts up your sweater and you nervously laugh it off. “Ahh it’s so hot, right? I should take this off.” Your hands pull off the warm fabric off your limbs and Mark looks up from his notes to glance at you. He looks at you for good three seconds.

The good look on your visible black tank top and cleavage exposing caught his eye but not enough for him to grasp your intentions. Instead Mark continues his work like the champ he was. Unbothered and gullible.

“Yeah? I feel normal.” Mark relies obliviously. You furrow your eyebrows and feel your stomach clench. Why was it so hard to ask Mark to have sex with you? It’s like the most difficult question for you.

And you never struggled with math questions before. You can’t believe it. Why was a simple risky move harder than school work.

He went back to doing his work. Thankfully you’re an amazing tutor so far your explanations did wonders for Mark. But you’re sat there staring at him with your eyes gawking.

You’re like an eagle pouncing, but you’re hesitant at the same time.

The boy did take notice of your stares and very acknowledged presence. But he didn’t know why and he doesn’t quite want to ask you, because what if that makes you pressured and embarrassed? Mark felt however very watched. Every movement of his pen. Every step of his breathing he makes on the same bed you’re sitting with him on.

It felt discomforting almost?

You clear your voice. “Mark have you ever had…” you pause because you’re suddenly getting to know how intrusive you are being. The boy’s head lifts up and he waits for you to finish.

“Have you ever had sex?” You begin again. You bite on your inner cheek which starts to make Mark flustered. From such a smart and disciplined girl you really have a way of starting conversations.

Mark nodded. “Yeah. Did you?”

Even if it was an inappropriate comment, Mark didn’t lie about it and he answered you truthfully. The boy didn’t know what to say at first. But what’s the harm in saying yes?

You don’t reply and you move a little closer to Mark holding your knees against your chest. Wearing shorts came in handy because Mark can see a full outline of your beautiful legs.

“What was your first time like?” You ask without answering him. Mark raised up his eyebrow thinking to himself. “Uhh,” he sits up on the mattress.

Mark brushed the pen down on the notebook. “I think it was with my girlfriend at the time.” You fully expected him to say some chick at the party but knowing his ex girlfriend was his first time, made this somehow really sweet and romantic.

Mark mumbles. “But what was your like?”

Your lips fell in a thin line. In an embarrassing way you turn away your gaze when your reply hits the taller quick.

“Mark I am a virgin,” You said it with a moment of clarity. He wasn’t sure why you’re still a virgin when you’re decently attractive and hella smart.

It somehow doesn’t make any sense.

Mark’s mouth drops like an umbrella sheet. “No way.” And you nod to show its the truth. Mark laughs a bit not in a mocking way but in a sense of disbelief to lighten up your mood.

He could tell you’re almost ashamed but he didn’t think that’s anything to be ashamed of. In any case he wonders if that’s a positive more than a con.

“Hey Y/n that’s not a bad thing you know that right?” He nudges your arms with his elbow with a smile.

You sigh a little. “I know but I want to experience it. I don’t really care about my virginity that much.”

“So how come you’re still a virgin? You’re pretty and smart.” Mark chuckles, he didn’t quite understand it. If you wanted to lose your virginity card so badly how come you still have it?

Your eyes look at him, your chance to tell him how clueless you are when it comes to sex arises. A part of you don’t want to tell him you’re bad at sex because that’s really embarrassingly stupid. Or the fact that you have no idea how to do anything. You can’t even figure out how kissing goddamn works!

You swallow down your own emotions. “I have no idea how to have sex.”

Moments later your eyes have glued together in what seems to be a staring competition. Mark didn’t think you’d be completely clueless. It came so naturally to him when he was about to do it for the first time. To you this was like a big deal.

Mark comes forward mumbling nervously. “You don’t know how to kiss either?” You shake your head a no.

The boy was silent until his eyes fell down to your lips. They look pretty, they seem very red and plum. He couldn’t grasp it but the guts clench in a sudden contraction.

“Do you want me to teach you?” Mark starts to ask you. Your face fell to the ground or it rather feels like it. He read your mind.

He was so nervous about it, he didn’t want to come off like a freaking creep to you. Little does he know you were begging for this offer.

He trails. “You know — like exchange lessons? You helped me with science and I can help with sex lessons.”

That doesn’t sound too bad to you. The deal was appealing. Your eyes sparkle up and come forward to kiss his lips. When you did the first gesture this said a lot to the boy before you. You were agreeing. You didn’t back away, your eyes were glowing at the idea of him teaching you what to do during sexual encounters. And thus, he opens his mouth slipping in slowly his tongue. Caressing your soft untouched mouth was like a dream come true. You were like melting ice the moment your mouth felt the warmth of the salivas mixing in as one. The kiss was slow at the beginning but occasionally you got the hang of the pace and Mark decided to spice it up.

He had to spice it up for you. Mark wanted to show you how it really is. What it really awaits you. The kiss springs from the bottom, a sudden piercing movement shocks you causing your moans to fall off.

Did he just bite your bottom lip? He smirks at your reaction and pulls you down on the bed. Hovering above your lean shoulders those grabby hands touch on your waist to position you a little downwards to his liking.

Mark kissed your neck, your jawline, down the side to your ears and your shoulders once your top slips off leaving you in your bra.

Your bra was a pretty blue colour. Mark smiles at your chest in slight adoration. Your eyes took a glimpse of his eyes and his lips have small kisses to your chest, to the cleavage. In between your breasts he brushed his face into the softness of your pillows.

“You know I’m surprised you’re a virgin.” He begins quietly, travelling his mouth down to your stomach till your navel touches.

Your feet curl up. This was somehow nerve wrecking but it feels good? But it’s so slow and it’s like he’s bringing you to rest.

“Why?” You ask out quietly.

Mark mumbles when his fingers reach the very entrance of your panty lining. He stops at your abdomen monitoring the shorts he took off. Your panty matches the colour to your lovely bra. You feel so warm between the flat stomach, his fingers slip your panties down to your legs half way.

Eyes look up to see your face. “You strike me as someone who knows everything.” He might be right. You come across as reliable person.

But you don’t know everything unfortunately, you’re only human and you doubt that Mark knows absolutely everything too. You smile shyly and close your thighs together.

This was embarrassing. You never really went further than kissing someone badly before. He could see everything but the moment your legs shut him off Mark gave a small nudge with his hands to pull your thighs apart gently.

“No hiding Y/n come on? Open up for me.”

Your hands cover your face as your legs open up like two doors. Mark smiles in awe but you couldn’t see that. The boy kissed your entrance, like a peck to the lips until those same lips kiss the inner thighs. He loved seeing your legs trembling from nothing but nervousness.

You really are a small ball of wreck.

He quietly says. “You’re pretty down there why are you so worried?”

He didn’t quite understand what was making you this anxious and you shudder when his tongue does kitten lick motions to your pussy. You’re unable to make any sense of what just happened, but all you know is that this feels too good to stop.

Tongue traps at your nub flicking his motions in left and right directions: your pelvis subtly lifts off the bed to roll back. Mark hums against your entrance, he was devouring you as if it’s his first time too. It feels too good for you and that’s what’s making him get off the whole idea: You feeling good.

His tongue went inside your small hole giving it a few thrusts of his tongue. His nose pressed right against your clit. Your burning hot skin flushes his face and your thighs squeeze when your stomach clenches so tightly. Without a warning you slip into oblivion.

Mumbling out highly. “Fuckfuckfuck m’gonna cum.”

Striving to give you the best orgasm of your life, Mark feverishly sucks on your edging pearl, your clit was practically swollen and this pushed you right off the edge just as he wanted you to. He was watching up at you from down there seeing your spine arch and your moans hit the back of your throat, so hoarse and sore. The way your eyes shut and your hands grip at anything nearby: the bed sheets, your breasts, his thick hair.

Pulling out of your wet slimey pussy from all the coating of saliva. You take a deep breath, Mark positions him above you he saw your bright reddish cheeks and your sparkling wet eyes. You look beautiful like this.

He whispers. “Do you still want to continue?”

Your mind was a fog but you never hesitated to reply to your classmate. “Yes, please.”

It’s definitely a sight to see. You’re being so adamant about it. Mark leans down and pulls down his rock solid crotch out. Those jeans slipped off and it leaves an ugly feeling when you’re hard in jeans.

It feels like a big weight lifted from him when it comes off. The boy sits back and gave you a glance as if he is telling you to come forward.

“Do you want to take the boxers off?” You heard him ask you. Your eyes light up and with your small hands pulling off his boxers. Mark gave you a dark gaze when his large cock springs up against his stomach. Your mouth waters just looking at it.

Your stomach made a small butterfly clutch too. You look at him in panic. “Whoa wait, will that fit?” You sound so dumbfounded. But Mark grinned and he rubs your thighs reassuringly.

“It can, it will. Trust me on this I’m the teacher here.”

He was right he was the teacher here and you’re just a mere helpless virgin. You lay down on the bed sheets when Mark moves on top of you his hard tip had to do a few teasing streaks on your entrance. You were anticipating him to just ram it in — but he wasn’t.

You were just impatient and Mark was a very patient guy who didn’t want to rush a process like this. At least for now he doesn’t have anywhere to be, what’s the rush right?

The tip was pushed out and back in, it was like a car reverse and driving forward. Your entrance was locked tight so Mark wants to stretch you out with just the tip. He had a feeling he might have to use two fingers before anything else is to happen. The boy pressed his thumb and rubs your clit. You mumble out a whine, and then his singular finger goes inside you just to do a little stretch here and there. The second finger was when it starts to feel too good for you. Your eyes shut and your voice starts to feel good.

He made his hand shake a little and then come out. Only for his tip to slip in fully in you and then gradually expand his shaft inside your pussy. You feel good, Mark was addicted to the feeling of his cock buried in your velvety new walls.

He grunts, his breath shaking. “Ah fuck Y/n, you feel better than i thought you would.”

It took every ounce of his body not to rut against you like a wild fucking beast, Mark moves up against your stomach. Your hands tremble upwards to hold his forearms.

“Mh! Fuck, it kind of hurts.” Your voice murmurs and the boy had his attention all on you. He was watching only your face when his body did the moving thing. When you told him it kind of hurts, Mark had a feeling the pain will turn to pleasure soon for you. All he could do was give a small ‘shh’ and a kiss on the forehead for you.

You’re kind of glad Mark is your first. He seems to be gentle and loving enough for this. If it was anyone else you don’t think they would be as supportive as he was to you.

A simple kiss on the forehead made your worries disappear. And you let him rut against your pussy that squelches on his shape, taking every single inch of his cock until he was balls deep.

He was right, the pain did turn to pleasure real soon.

He brushed some of your hair back from your face as his thrusts connect to his pivoting muscles and hips. Mark admires your honesty expressions too, he couldn’t help himself. You were pretty even in this state.

The boy brushed down your jawline, he leans to capture a kiss on your lips. Your voice slips off like a breathy breeze. “Mark — feels too good.”

He smiles down at you. “I know,”

Your thighs wrap themselves on his waist and that brought him deeper in a whole new position when he is pushing in your loving arms. And then you feel a strong urge in the stomach, something that’s about to explode.

Your eyebrow ends connect, furrowing. “M’think I’m gonna cum…”

You didn’t exactly know but the feeling was so intense it overlaps your hearing and your brain goes back moments later after the surging sensation washes over you.

Mark feels you cumming right on his cock, he grits his teeth together jawline attached with his remaining strength.

“Me too, I’m close, hold on.” He mumbles lowly until he fucks himself just enough to pull out of you and then flick his wrist down the shaft to paint you of his cum on your bare stomach.

Deeply breathing the boy pulls back on the bed, you achingly sit up with a small groan. You never felt your body become this sore.

Your eyes watch Mark as the boy brushed back his hair with his hand. You both look like visible messes. Sweating and panting.

Your lips curve into a small smile. “So, do you need help with anything else in your classes?”

Mark gave a visible chuckle somehow it feels like you’re going to be more of a distraction when you’re going to tutor him than he likes to believe.

“Uhh, let’s see.” He replies, looking at the studying materials you guys left unattended on the floor. Scattered is the right word more like.

“I think I prefer to Exchange Lessons.” He admits, causing you to chuckle.

Mark thinks you do too, considering you’re not disagreeing.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank you!! Follow my blog for more and reblog it helps a girl out<3 ily

[foldingfittedsheets]

Since I already have established myself as a little pickle freak with no shame I have another extremely embarrassing story that will probably make you laugh.

When I started dating Brendan he was still living at home, but after we'd been dating a while he and his best friend Charlie decided to move in together. Another friend of theirs was looking for roommates and they decided to go for it. It was the lower level of a house.

Here's where I need to set the stage a little. Looking back on the time I spent in that space, I don't actually even know if it could have been nice under other circumstances. I feel almost pity for that house, full of young disgusting boys. Bare and wretched, it had minimal threadbare furniture, no decorations, and the guy who lived there already was hands down the most disgusting person I've ever met.

Not his character, but his habits. This boy's name was Josh. I genuinely don't know if their moving in with Josh was a handshake deal or if they saw the place beforehand. No sane person would ever have chosen to live there otherwise, I feel certain.

There was a kitchen. Sorta. But like. Was there a kitchen? Every counter, the whole sink, everything was just covered in dirty dishes. Brendan and Charlie said, "Josh, you need to do the dishes, we can't even wash anything cause it's so full of dirty dishes."

Josh's response to being asked to clean was to load all the dirty dishes onto a blanket. And then he dragged that blanket down the hall into the laundry room.

Crusted on residue, molding slimes, and horrible odors arose as he moved the blanket. After two months they said, "Josh, you can't just leave your dirty dishes on a blanket in the laundry room."

Josh's response was to drag the blanket of misery and miasmas into his room instead.

Josh didn't shower very much and he was a big guy. At one point I walked past his door when it opened. His girlfriend was crossing to the bathroom and I almost dry heaved directly in front of her. The smell of rotting foot, dried on sweat, and sex musk swirled together into the most eye watering assault my nose had ever faced.

So that's where our story takes place. A home of no hand towels, no soap by the bathroom sink, a blanket covered in months of early-twenties depression dishes.

I was meeting some of these people for the first time on the night of our story. Josh had a crew of two others guys who just hung around constantly. So it's me and five dudes hanging out, chatting, ignoring the various smell scapes to live in the moment. Josh left briefly to go pee.

Then I felt a stabbing in my guts. I shot a panicked look to Brendan and casually said I had to pee too. At that time in my life I was experiencing some of the most god awful IBS I've ever experienced. I knew I was going to make a crime scene in there. To my dismay there was no fan to turn on. But Brendan, like the champion partner he was, started telling a story at extremely high volume to cover the sound of my anus exploding under the force of my anxiety poops.

When I flushed and turned to the sink, I was dismayed. There was no soap. I looked around the bare bathroom and didn't see anything useful. No one had ever wanted to wash their hands here before. I then looked over the tub and spotted a tiny window that I wasn't tall enough to open. I wanted to let out the truly rank and terrible smell I had filled the bathroom with, but I had to give that up as impossible.

I slipped out and quietly said, "Hey, is there dish soap or something to wash my hands?"

"Oh," said one of Josh's friends, "There's a bar of soap by the window, let me grab it for you." This was not unreasonable, because again, I couldn't reach the window but I was doused in fear at the ridicule I was about to face.

He went to the door of the bathroom and literally staggered back from the unholy smell I'd left there. He had his arms up as if to protect his face from the malevolent beast my bowels had left behind. When he turned to us there was tears standing in his eyes.

In this house of awful smells and terrible hygiene, I was the stinkiest monster of all, bringing this boy to tears. I broke out in a sweat, ready to cry myself at the shame that was about to be cast upon me.

But instead. He said, "JOSH!"

"I can't believe you dude! Oh my god! That is the nastiest shit I've ever smelled!!" He waved the door frantically to dilute the awful power of my shit and then plowed through to open the window and air out the bathroom, passing me the soap. "I can't BELIEVE you had to go in there after him, oh my god, use the kitchen sink to wash your hands! It's gnarly!"

Everyone turned to rag on Josh for the newest addition to the gallery of smells in the house and he didn't look at me once. He laughed and pulled my shame onto his shoulders with grace, taking the bullet for me like a true hero. Only Brendan and I knew I was the stinky villain.

Josh never brought it up after, but I remain grateful to this day.

[penny00dreadful]

Wiggly Wednesday 🧠🪱

I've been being tagged in wiggly Wednesdays for like the last MONTH and keep forgetting to do them I am SORRY

Thank you to these lovely people for tagging me 🥰 and this is a TAG BACK AS WELL

@pearynice @hbyrde36 @medusapelagia @arelliann @kikidoesfanfic @just-my-latest-hyperfixation

Today I'm thinking about:

Steve at the dentist or the doctors for a routine procedure, waking up a lot loopy from the anesthesia and loopy Steve is just The Softest Boy™

He's lying there, high as balls (no trauma here, we're in fluff land) and he looks over and sees the most beautiful man he's ever seen in his life.

Like hardly able to believe his eyes, and the guy is just sitting there and oh shit he's looking at him, he's looking in Steve's direction omg. And he's smiling. This is such a good day.

Steve reaches up to tug on the nurses scrubs and when she leans down to see what he wants, he very loudly whispers to her, "Can you buy him a drink for me? Like get him a drink and tell him it's from me? I'll give you the money."

She just pats him on the hand and reminds him that they don't serve alcohol, this is a hospital, there is no bar.

He lets out a dejected little "oh" but the beautiful man is laughing a little now so it's not all bad.

But then Steve sees the guy has a ring on his left ring finger and Steve's super loopy but he's not loopy enough not to understand what that means.

So he's sad, OF COURSE he's sad.

"He's married." He pouts up to the nurse.

"I am married, sweetheart. Sorry about that." The guy says and fuck, even his voice is beautiful.

Steve sulks to himself for a moment before asking "I hope they're good to you."

The guy smiles at him again and all is right in the world

"They are. They're the best."

"Good " Steve tries to cross his arms but his coordination is off. "You deserve the best."

"Thank you." The guy leans forward a little. "I have it."

Steve nods and tries to make peace with his new reality but it's hard because this guy can't be his.

"Hey, Stevie?"

Steve is completely powerless, he has to look up at the sound of his name falling from those lips, it's glorious.

"You know my name."

"I do." The guy smiles again, his beautiful megawatt smile. "Guess who I'm married to."

"I dunno." Steve shrugs. "Probably like Beyoncé or someone."

Steve's hand is taken by warm, gentle fingers

"I'm married to you, baby."

Steve's heart explodes into glitter and fireworks and he's nearly crying, wide eyed and wondrous.

"Me?" He asks, disbelieving but the guy just nods and presses a kiss his ringed left finger.

So yeah those are the worms atm

SOME EXTRA TAGS:

@augustjustice @dreamwatch @fuctacles @hornedqueenofhell @klausinamarink @shares-a-vest @wynnyfryd @wormdebut

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ I WANNA SHOW YOU OFF ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: some other streamer's been buying you gifts, but satoru knows he can spoil you better.

contents: fem!reader. kinda sorta clingy!gojo. more toji slander hehe. inumaki and megumi gang up on gojo. like always. oh also you guys kiss on camera! tagging @sutorus and @yunymphs ꨄ︎

author's note: ughhh he's such a pretty pathetic loser i wanna shake him silly :(

"oh, satoru, someone sent me another gift!" you say with a smile, beckoning him over to look. satoru hops off his chair and looks over at your computer screen, resting his chin on the top of your head. "look, it's the skin i said i wanted! i wonder who sent it to me, huh..."

satoru shrugs and dips his head to kiss the side of your face. "coulda just asked me for it, y'know," he mutters, eyeing the username that had apparently sent you the gift.

you ignore him and gesture at the time on the top-right corner of your screen. "isn't your stream starting in a couple minutes?" you ask, tilting your head. satoru nods and pulls away, shaking his white hair out of his eyes before walking back over to his monitor. and just a minute or two later, he's live and chatting with his early viewers.

"hey, suguru," he says with a grin, waving at the screen when his close friend joins. "you wanna join my team for today? the match's gonna start in a couple minutes."

suguru-geto: yea sure one sec

satoru spins around in his chair a couple times, and he blows a kiss at you every time his chair faces your direction. and every time, you humor him and catch his kisses. eventually, he stops spinning around in circles and starts actually interacting with his viewers.

inumaki: i hate gojo's streams

inumaki: you just stare at your gf for half of them

inumaki has been kicked from the stream by satoru-gojo.

"anyways. suguru, you ready yet?" satoru says with a grin. suguru replies with a thumbs-down in the chat, and satoru groans impatiently. "what are you even doing that's takin' you so long?"

suguru-geto: taking care of something

"whatever," satoru grumbles, slouching down in his chair and spinning around one more time. "hey, chat, y'wanna know a funny story? i could use your help on it too."

the comments explode with various forms of affirmation, and satoru turns his head and winks at you. "so, lately, some random account's been sending my girlfriend everythin' she could ever want. skins, coins, you name it. what does that mean?"

he ruffles his hair with one hand and drums his fingertips on his desk with the other, surveying the replies from underneath his long, white eyelashes.

sho-ko: some guy wants her sooo bad

yuuji-itadori: maybe the person's just being nice! :)

satoru makes a face at shoko's comments and scowls, sitting up and leaning closer to the screen. "i dunno if the guy who's sending my girlfriend gifts is here right now, but if you are, you better not think that you have a chance with her. 'cause you don't!"

you can't stifle the smile that spreads across your face at satoru's indignant words, and when he turns to you, you just can't help but laugh. he's so sweet, even and especially when he does his best to gatekeep you. but ever since he brought you onto his stream for the first time, you've been an instant fan-favorite, so he can only hide you for so long.

satoru scrunches up his face at you childishly, and you draw a heart in the air right back at him. it makes him smile ruefully, and his eyes light up when you blow a kiss at him. he turns back to his screen determinedly and raises an eyebrow at the latest comment.

sho-ko: do u have the guy's username? cus you can find out who it is that way

"oh, it's... hard to say. rio-zuku?" satoru tries, squinting his eyes. "i don't know, whatever. you guys know him?"

megumi-fushiguro: dyou mean ryosuku? i hate him

yuuji-itadori: oh i don't like him either :( hes mean

satoru scoffs and puts his feet up on his desk, rolling his cerulean eyes. "he can't be more famous than me, so whatever."

megumi-fushiguro: he gets 100k views per stream

"well, he can't be a better gamer than me," satoru replies dismissively, waving his hand.

kugi-saki: didn't he win the val championship last year?

"but i bet i'm hotter!"

toji-fushiguro: you wish

"fuck you, toji," satoru huffs indignantly. "well, how haven't i heard of this guy? if he's so famous and so hot, huh?" ignoring your snickers, satoru switches to another tab and types in the username. but when he clicks on the first link, nothing shows up. it's a blank profile, and satoru's jaw dropped.

"how the fuck am i blocked?!" he whines, flopping his head back on the headrest of his seat and pretending to faint. the chat floods with a thousand expressions of laughter, and you hop off your seat to go sit on the desk of satoru's desk, taking care to stay out of sight of his camera.

satoru opens one eye and squints it at you, lips forming a childish pout. he reaches out and twines his fingers with yours, completely ignoring his exploding comment section. you squeeze his hand gently and reach over his keyboard, hitting a key to mute his microphone.

"i can block him if you want," you offer, wrapping your other hand around satoru's. "and, for what it's worth, i think you're prettier than him."

satoru grins smugly at that, eyes softening more and more the longer they focus on you. "m'kay, thanks... wait, how do you know what he looks like?" he asks suspiciously, narrowing his eyes playfully.

"'cause i looked him up this morning."

your boyfriend sighs dramatically and pretends to faint again. when he reopens his eyes, there's a slightly new look in his eyes as he mumbles, "i wish people would stop hitting on you."

you reach out and touch his chin, forgetting that people on his stream could probably see your hand even if you two were on mute. "oh, i get that a lot," you tease, pinching his cheek affectionately. "but, honestly, you're the only one i wanna be with. even if that other guy buys me everything i could ever want, he's still not you."

satoru kisses the inside of your hand, eyes still fixed on you. "you do know that i'd buy you all of that and more if you asked, right?"

"i know. and i'd love you even if you were as broke as toji."

your side comment makes satoru throw his head back in laughter, and he shakes his head as a wide smile grows across his face. he pushes his chair closer to the desk and tilts his head up, minty taste fresh on his mouth as he smiles against your lips.

a bashful giggle slips past your lips as satoru kisses you again and again. from the corner of your eye, you can see that the two of you are just barely off-camera—in fact, anyone who's watching the stream can tell that the two of you are kissing, but you're still just out of sight.

"d'you want the new battle pass?" satoru mumbles against your lips, caressing the side of your face. you nod and grin, kissing the corner of his mouth.

"only you would talk about a battle pass while you're kissi—" satoru cuts you off with another kiss, stopping you from finishing your sentence.

"uh uh, shut up and let me kiss you. you're the prettiest girl i've ever seen n' i wanna enjoy you," satoru says plainly, gripping your chin in between his thumb and index finger. he tugs your lips on his again, and when he finally pulls away, he turns back to his screen and sticks out his tongue.

satoru unmutes himself and smiles smugly at the camera, face flushed pink from the way you had kissed him back. "well, at least that asshole doesn't have my pretty girlfriend, and he never fuckin' will."

yuuji-itadori: aw you two are so cute :)

megumi-fushiguro: i miss the single gojo

inumaki: im back whatd i miss???

inumaki: oh nvm im leaving again

[oddinary4bts]

Chasing Cars | ch 15.5 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: curses, mentions of jk's unaliving attempt, explicit content: hickeys, fingering, they are so in love and can't stop saying it, unprotected sex, creampie

☆word count: 2.6k

☆a/n: i love them, and my bad if there are any typos this is heavily unedited haha let me know if you see any!

☆series masterpost

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Jungkook feels anxious. Ever since Taehyung asked him to meet up to talk, he’s been feeling incredibly anxious, like his heart might explode in his chest. Even worse - he’s afraid he’ll run into you when he gets to the apartment, and after what you said on Thursday, he thinks he might break with no way to heal if he sees you.

He’s scheduled an appointment with his therapist later today. All he can do is hope that it’ll help. And that his conversation with Taehyung will help, too.

Taehyung is in the living room when Jungkook gets home, playing on the Switch. He pauses his game the second Jungkook walks in, and they both stare at each other for a time, an uneasy silence filling the apartment.

Taehyung breaks it first. “Hey.”

Jungkook takes off his shoes but keeps his coat on as he heads towards the living room. “Hey.”

“How have you been?” Taehyung asks.

It’s awkward, and Jungkook hates it. He’s been hating way too much stuff in his life lately.

“Fine,” Jungkook replies. 

He can’t bring himself to return the question, and he sits at the other extremity of the couch, as far away from Taehyung as he possibly can.

“Listen…” Taehyung says when he realizes Jungkook won’t say anything else. “I’m sorry I punched you.” He winces as his eyes go over the bruise and wound Jungkook knows adorn his cheek. “Shit, I actually got you good.”

“You did,” Jungkook coldly replies.

Taehyung eyes his knuckles, which have also turned red and purple from the blow. “I really am sorry for that. I don’t know why I punched you, and I’m a little disgusted with myself that I did.”

“You were mad. It makes sense.”

Taehyung shakes his head no. “It doesn’t make sense. But… man, why didn’t you tell me about her?”

“Because you told me you’d kill me if I did touch her?” Jungkook chuckles bitterly. “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“Yet you still went behind my back and fucked her,” Taehyung states, a hint of anger flashing behind the words.

“I didn’t fuck your sister,” Jungkook spits. “It’s never been like that with her.”

Taehyung remains silent for a few seconds and then sighs deeply. “Then how is it?”

His tone is cool, composed, and a lot nicer than Jungkook expected it to be. It calms down the anger that was starting to simmer in his blood better than a cold shower would have.

“Wha - what?” Jungkook lets out.

Taehyung offers him a smile that seems forced, yet Jungkook sees it for what it is - he’s trying to make an effort.

“How is it with Y/n?”

Jungkook gulps, gaze widening. “Huh… well…” he trails off, eyes falling to his hands, where he’s been mindlessly pulling at the calluses he gets from working out. “It’s… great. I know she’s your sister but fuck… she’s amazing.”

“She is,” Taehyung agrees.

“But I fucked everything up in Paris when I kissed Gabrielle.”

The silence that follows is heavy, interrupted by Taehyung’s sigh what feels like an eternity later.

“Were you guys together then?” Taehyung asks.

Jungkook shrugs. “We weren’t together together. But yes we were.” He pauses, and his throat is so dry it feels like sandpaper when he tries to swallow. “We started on Valentine’s Day.”

Taehyung’s nose is scrunched up, much like you sometimes do, when Jungkook looks at him. “That’s… a long time ago.”

“We ended in Paris, though,” Jungkook adds. “Except last Thursday.”

“I thought you and Lisa…” Taehyung trails off.

“It happened once last month,” Jungkook immediately explains, probably far more defensive than necessary. “And Y/n actually caught us together so… I ended things with Lisa right away.”

“I remember Lisa being pissed about it,” Taehyung admits. “But then she said that it was because of another girl, and looking back I was stupid to think it was Gaby.”

Jungkook purses his lips. “I haven’t spoken to Gaby in person since Paris. We only texted a couple of times.”

Including that one time she’d given him shit for not telling you about his promise to her.

“Right…” Taehyung trails off. He sighs, sitting back on the couch, throwing Jungkook a look. “What do you want with my sister?”

Jungkook gulps around a sudden lump in his throat. What does he want with you? He already knows, but can he tell Taehyung? Can he tell your brother that he’s so irreversibly in love with you he thinks he’s been dying since you said it was a lapse of judgment on Thursday?

That he almost died in July after he lost you?

“You want the truth?” Jungkook asks, his heart rate spiking. “I’m in love with her. I just want her to be happy, and of course I wish she’d want to be happy with me, but I don’t think that’ll happen after last Thursday.”

“You’re in love with her?” Taehyung repeats.

Jungkook gulps. “Yes.”

Taehyung nods and, to Jungkook’s surprise, taps Jungkook’s shoulder. “Noted. Come home, Jungkook. You should talk to her.”

Jungkook is stunned silent, and he just stares at Taehyung, just stares at his best friend unblinkingly, not understanding where the conversation went.

“What?”

“Come home,” Taehyung repeats. “I’m not mad at you. I was mostly mad that you both hid it from me for months, but clearly I was wrong.” He pauses, chuckles lightly. “At least that’s what Ari said. She quite literally beat some sense into me.”

So… this is it? The biggest obstacle to you and him… wasn’t even an obstacle?

“She did?”

“Yeah.” Taehyung tilts his head to the side, gaze widening as if he’s reminiscing about what happened with Ariane. “She said that I was a dick for not letting you guys figure your shit out. I think Gaby told her about the two of you.”

That would make sense, considering that the two girls are best friends. 

“Oh,” is all Jungkook manages to say.

Taehyung surveys him for a few seconds, as Jungkook’s world crumbles down around him. It’s like the floor disappeared, and he’s plummeting towards the ground with no parachute to save him.

Taehyung is not opposed to your relationship.

If you want it, Jungkook can be with you.

“So come home,” Taehyung repeats. “Talk to Y/n. Fix shit with her.” Taehyung smiles, and this time it’s fully genuine. “I just want you both to be happy.”

Jungkook nods, and he has to take a deep breath to refrain from crying then and there. “Okay.” He nods again. “Okay, I will talk to her.”

There’s a moment of silence as Taehyung just carefully observes Jungkook. Jungkook wonders, can Taehyung hear the wild beats of his heart at the perspective of talking to you?

“Can I…” Taehyung starts, and then his eyes drop to his hands in his lap. “Can I ask you something?”

Jungkook’s heart seems to come to a full halt in his chest. “Yeah?”

“What happened last summer…” Taehyung trails off. “Is it related to Y/n?”

A bottle of wine crashing on the pavement comes to Jungkook’s mind. But he never told Taehyung - how would he know?

“What do you mean?” Jungkook replies, pulling on his piercings.

“In July.” Taehyung sighs, meeting Jungkook’s gaze for a few seconds. “Lisa told Sera, and she told me and Jimin.”

Jungkook hates it. He hates it so much, hating the vulnerability that it imposes him.

“Ah.” He gulps, and he thinks about you for a moment.

Thinks about the fact that you were the only thing on his mind when he was so close to ending it.

“It was partly caused by losing her, yes,” Jungkook finally answers, and he’s suddenly blinking back tears.

“Fuck, JK…” Taehyung trails off. “You really should have told me about her…”

“I didn’t think you’d be… open-minded,” Jungkook says, shrugging his shoulders. “And she’d already ended things with me then.”

Taehyung nods once, and then sighs again. “Please don’t keep everything to yourself now, okay? I really don’t want you to think you’re alone. And I really don’t want you to ever feel like… that is a solution. So please talk to me, talk to Jimin whenever you need help, okay?”

Jungkook can’t speak around the lump in his throat, so all he does is nod. Taehyung understands - they’re best friends after all.

“I love you, bro,” Taehyung adds. “Please talk to Y/n.”

“I will,” Jungkook answers, his voice choked up with emotion.

All he can hope for is for you to be open to the conversation, whenever it comes. 

*****

For the first time in months, Jungkook feels at peace.

You’re here with him, and for the first time, he knows he won’t have to let go. Maybe that’s why he’s kissing you slowly, softly - you have all of eternity stretched ahead of you. Yet it seems you want more. Your kisses grow deeper, and soon his blood is pulsing at his ears, shooting down to his dick, and Jungkook pushes his tongue in your mouth.

It’s like he’s discovering you for the first time. He marvels at your sight, at your taste, at the way you moan softly against his lips. He swallows your sounds, inhales your inebriating scent, and he climbs on top of you, gently parting your legs with his knee so that he can be as close to you as possible.

He has half a thought that Taehyung is somewhere in the apartment, but the way you wrap your legs around his waist makes him forget everything until there’s just you and him.

He leaves your mouth to find your neck, his tongue darting out to taste you. A second later he’s sucking a hickey on your skin, and you moan softly, hand pulling at his hair.

“Kook,” you breathe out.

He pauses, just content with being close to you. “I love you, peach.”

Your arms wrap tightly around him, and though you have to be aware of his erection pressing against you, you both just stay there for a moment. 

“Love you too, Kook. So, so much.”

It’s the way you say the words. Jungkook immediately feels the need to be inside you, to be surrounded by you, and he kneels between your legs so that he can take off his shirt. You run a hand on his body, awe in your eyes like you, too, can’t believe you made it in the end. He takes a moment to look at you, to take in the way your eyes sparkle with emotion - with love, lust and yearning.

He loves you. And the best part about it is, you love him too.

“Fuck, peach,” he whispers. “You’re so beautiful.”

You sit up, taking off your shirt in one swift motion that reveals so much skin - you weren’t wearing a bra - and Jungkook thinks he’ll go insane. It’s like he forgot what you looked like despite seeing you just a few days ago - it feels like a whole lifetime ago.

You’ve gained muscles over the months apart. You’re leaner, and there’s a strength to your curves that makes Jungkook’s dick twitch in his pants. The tattoo on your ribs is all too attractive too, and Jungkook takes a moment to trace it as you lie back down under his watchful gaze.

The art is beautiful. Delicate, with fine lines that have sunk perfectly in your skin. Jungkook wonders who your artist is, if they’d be able to tattoo something on him too, something to remind him of you. But then you’re whining from lack of attention, and Jungkook leans down, kissing you deeply.

You run your hands on the skin of his back, nails lightly digging in his skin, and when he grunts softly, you whisper, “I’m so happy to be here with you.”

He goes fully insane. Insanely in love, perhaps. He undresses you, kissing every inch of skin revealed, and though he wants to taste you, to eat you out until you come undone on his tongue, his dick is throbbing too painfully for him to ignore it.

You’re glistening, your arousal evident the second his eyes land on you. He still takes a moment to slip two fingers inside of you as he kisses you again, swallowing your soft moans as they come. And when he thinks you’re ready, stretched enough for his dick, Jungkook takes off the rest of his clothes. His dick springs free, already rock hard like it always is with you, and he jerks himself off a couple of times as he watches you, as you watch him through half-lidded eyes.

“Condom?” he asks, though he hopes you’ll say no.

He wants to feel all of you again.

You shake your head no. “Please just fuck me already.”

“Fuck,” he curses, his dick hardening even more. “Fuck, peach, I love you.”

He comes closer, rubbing his tip on you, collecting your juices. It’s so sensitive without a condom, and he has to bite the tip of his tongue so that he doesn’t come right away. It doesn’t help that you’re so wet. That a moment later he’s slipping in, inch after inch, your walls sucking him in. 

It doesn’t help that you moan softly, eyes fluttering shut as your eyebrows bunch together from the pleasure. You’re so hot like this, so sinfully beautiful, and some feral part of him just wants to pound into you, to fuck you until the whole neighbourhood knows that you’re his forever now.

But he tames himself, slowly pulls out before pushing all the way in again. 

“Kook,” you moan, and your hand finds one of his where it’s holding your waist. “Come close.”

You don’t have to ask twice, especially not as he wants you close, too. So he bends down, cages you between his forearms, and then he establishes a slow rhythm. Your hips lift to meet his, your walls tightening around him from the motion, and he knows he’ll come fast.

You’re too tight, too wet, for him to hold on for a long time. So he tells you how much he loves you. Whispers on your lips that he never wants to be separated from you again, that he thinks you’re the reason he’s alive. You confess your love back, tell him that he’s so worthy of your love, that you wouldn’t want anyone other than him. 

You tell him that you’ll love him when you’re old, which makes him laugh against your lips. There’s beauty in the thought, in the knowledge that he does have a lifetime with you.

“You’re…” he trails off, because he has no words to describe how amazing you are, and his dick is stealing most of the blood from his brain.

So he kisses you instead. Kisses you slow, kisses you deep, his motions growing faster until they turn sloppy, and then he pushes all the way in, his dick twitching as he unloads his cum deep inside of you. You hold him tight, pussy pulsating around him, and Jungkook’s high keeps going on and on, your lips muffling his groans and soft moans.

“I love you,” he says again when he starts being able to think once more.

He’ll never get tired of telling you.

“I love you too, Kook,” you whisper.

He’ll never get tired of hearing that, too.

Read chapter fifteen here!

☆☆☆☆☆

he is so in love with her please send help. Let me know what you think of the drabble!

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

[ptolemaeacles]

pls write more for hazel omg i loved the cheerleader hcs maybe like a childhood best friends to lovers so lots of pining and smut maybe

♡ you belong with me

pairing: hazel callahan x fem!reader

synopsis: hazel has had a crush on her best friend since they met in the 1st grade. they were freshman in college now and hazel realizes she can’t keep her feelings to herself anymore.

warnings: 18+ minors dni (both reader and hazel are 18), smut, childhood best friends to lovers, switch!hazel, switch!reader, top!reader, bottom!hazel (no pun intended), let me know if i missed anything!!

notes: aw thank you !!! im glad you liked the hcs. also small disclaimer, i'm a horrid smut writer and i rushed the ending because i didn't want to keep you waiting. hope you like !!!

word count: 2.5k

“god, i’m so excited. i mean this is the first time a girl has asked me out. usually it’s guys who approach me and then i get weird comments when i tell them i like women…” you rambled on but hazel could barely focus. she could only feel the empty pit in her stomach. 

you were so happy to be going on a date and all she could think about is if you would ever be this excited to go on a date with her. she tried to convince you to not go but there was only so much she could do without giving her feelings away. 

hazel thinks she’s loved you since the day she met you. before she knew what ‘love’ meant or what it looked like, she loved you. to her, you were the very definition of that word. 

hazel’s hopeless crush started in the 1st grade. it wasn’t some cute interaction where one of you saved the other from a bully or something. it was simple with the both of you. it always has been. 

you came up to her during lunch and told her you would give her half of your sandwich if she agreed to be your friend.

“what kind of sandwich is it?” hazel asked, from her seat on the lunch table.

“peanut butter and strawberry jelly.” 

“i’m allergic to strawberries.”.

“then don’t eat it and just be my friend.” you sat next to her without another word and the both of you left it like that. simple.

since then, she knew she would never escape you. and she never wanted to. but right now, she felt like if you didn’t stop talking to her about this date, her head would explode. 

hazel watched you walk around your room, shuffling through your closet for an outfit to the movies with the girl who asked you out. she never bothered remembering the girl’s name because she thinks it would the whole situation worse for her. she didn’t want to know anything about that girl.

“...and she said we’ll get ice cream later which i hope-” hazel interrupted you.

“hey, i think i should get home. my mom’s probably wondering where i am and shit, so… i’ll see you later.” hazel wanted to get away as soon as possible. not from you but from the giddiness she could practically feel radiating off your body at the thought of your date. 

“oh.. i thought you told your mom that you were going to study at my place after classes?” you questioned. hazel’s quiet behavior didn’t go unnoticed by you. she was always quiet but after more than 10 years of friendship, you could tell which silences were good and which weren’t. this definitely wasn’t a good one.

“yeah well, we aren’t studying so. i’d better get going, bye.” she spoke in a flat tone, with her head down, as she grabbed her backpack and made her way out of your room.

you stood still, staring at the open door of your room and wondering if you had done something.

hazel walked into her house, red in the face and a vicious grip on the doorknob. she ran up to her room, and threw her backpack in a random corner, probably knocking her guitar down. but her guitar was the last thing on her mind. 

she was pissed at you. mostly herself but you as well. she knew she had no right to be angry at you but how could you never see that hazel was right there. she was right in front of you, waiting for you to even glance in her direction. it’s all she wanted. to be the one who makes you laugh, the one who you’d think of when you saw romantic tiktok slideshows, the one who took you out on rollerblading dates, the one who got to kiss you before dropping you off back to your house, the one who got to slide her hand up your skirt, the one who got to be in between your legs-

she groaned and loudly, flopping onto her bed and stuffing her face in her pillow. she needed to apologize before her stupid feelings ruined your friendship.

hazel had a plan. she was going to go to your house after your date and apologize. apologize for being a dick, apologize for falling in love with you, apologize for every and anything she could apologize for so that you wouldn't hate her. she expected you to yell at her or ask her what was wrong with her. what she didn't expect was you to be calling her phone, right now.

she pressed the green 'accept' button and put the phone up to her ear.

"haze.." she could hear you sniffling through the phone, "i-, uh, can i come over, please? my date- it just- it went horribly and i really want to see you. please." hazel felt her heart drop 10 stories.

"yeah, yeah, i'll come pick you up, angel, where are you?" she questioned.

"outside your house."

hazel ran down the stairs and opened her front door, to be met with your red eyes and puffy face.

you immediately wrapped your arms around hazel, burying your face in her chest. her hands went landed themselves in your hair, stroking it gently in an attempt to comfort.

hazel helped you into her room, setting you down on her bed.

"do you want to talk about it?" she asked softly.

"she- she, um, she stood me up." you could barely get a sentence out without hiccuping. hazel reached over to her nightstand and pulled out an unopened water bottle, unscrewing the cap and handed it to you.

you whispered a thank you and took a few sips. it was hazel's turn to speak now.

"fuck her," you give her a confused look, "oh no, not fuck her, don't do that, i meant that you should just forget about her. she obviously isn't the one for you if she stood you up, and there are so many other people in the world-"

"hazel."

"yes?"

you didn't waste anymore time. you grabbed hazel's face in your hands and crashed your lips into hers.

hazel was sure this was a dream. there was no way you were kissing her right now. she definitely fell asleep and she's imagining this whole thing.

while hazel was having her loser lesbian crisis, you noticed that the kiss wasn't being reciprocated.

'fuck.' you thought. you just ruined your closest and longest friendship. you pulled away from her.

"shit, haze, i didn't mean to do that, i'm not sure what i was thinking-" you started but were quickly shut up when hazel pulled you back in for another kiss.

relief flooded your body. she wanted this. both of you wanted this.

hazel felt you smile into the kiss and took that as her 'go ahead'. she tilted her head, deepening the kiss. shyly, she moved her hand from her lap to your waist. you moved one of your hands to the side of her neck and the other in her hair. you could practically feel her pulse beating rapidly under your palm.

hazel gained a newfound confidence and pushed you back onto her bed, slotting herself between your legs. her lips hovered over your neck before attacking your neck with sloppy kisses. her lips trailed down your neck, making sure to savor the taste of you. her lips met the fabric of your blouse.

"can i take this off, please?" she asked in a breathy manner, as if she had just ran a marathon. you nodded, at a loss for words.

“need to hear you say it, baby. need to know you want it just as bad as i do.” hazel wasn’t aware how raspy her voice was, as if she hadn’t drank water in days. 

“take it off, haze, please. take it all off.” you whispered and caught her lips with yours while she lifted your top off your body. once she had your top thrown in a random corner in her room, she went straight for your pants, not even bothering to take her own clothes off. 

“fuck, hazel,” you were breathless, “i want to see you, too.” you swallowed, gripping the beige button up she was wearing, hoping she knew what you meant.

“you will, princess, don’t worry. i just want to focus on you right now, okay?” you nodded, not fully sure what ‘focusing on you’ meant.

hazel had you in just your bra and underwear, her eyes scanned your body hungrily. if this was a dream, she prayed she remembered every single moment when she woke up. you were better than any fantasy she could conjure up on those lonely nights, when she couldn't think of anything but you. 

you felt her strong gaze settle on your body and you felt self conscious thoughts take the forefront of your mind. you raised your hands over your body, starting to think hazel didn’t want you like you wanted her.

“hey,” hazel grabbed your hands and gently pushed them to your sides, “you have no idea how long i’ve wanted you like this. how many nights i’ve stayed up thinking about you.” hazel started kissing down your neck, making her way to your chest. 

she pulled your bra down, not even bothering to fully unhook it before latching her tongue down onto your right nipple. 

the wet feeling of her mouth made you cry aloud, completely forgetting her mom (and jeff, too, probably) were a few feet down the hall.

hazel lifted her mouth of your tit with a pop, moving her hand to squeeze it instead.

“i’d love to hear you, angel, but i need you to be quiet,” she feverishly pecked your lips, “just tonight, hm?” you murmured a response, more concerned with the ache between your thighs than anything else. 

you guessed hazel read your mind or something, as she started moving down the bed towards the place on your body that needed the most attention. she looked up to you, as if asking once more, if this was what you really wanted. 

“haze, please.” you whined. that was all the confirmation she needed. she slid your panties down slowly, watching a string of wetness connect your pussy and your underwear. hazel felt herself growing wet at the fact that she did this to you. it filled her with a new sense of confidence. she didn’t even wait for your panties to completely slip off your legs before diving in between your thighs.

your back arched off the bed the moment you felt hazel’s tongue make contact with your swollen bud. she slipped her wet muscle throughout your folds, desperate to catch every single drop of wetness she could.

“fuck, haze, feels really fucking good.” you moaned and brought your hand to the back of her head, gripping her hair between your fingers in ecstasy. 

she hummed in response to the praise you were giving her, sending vibrations throughout your core that nearly made you choke. hazel continued to suck on your clit, holding your thighs apart with her hands hooked under your knees. she slid her face side to side with her tongue flat against your pussy, moving your clit with just the right amount of pressure. 

you felt a pressure building in your lower belly and tried to move hazel’s face closer to your mound to chase your release. 

and she stopped. 

you lifted your head from the pillow and stared at her kissing your thighs, before going to unbuckle her own pants. 

“wait hazel,” you put your hands on top of her jean button, “can i?” you spoke so quietly, hazel barely caught what you were saying. she nodded her head, unsure of what else to do.

you gently unbuttoned her jeans before sliding them and her boxers down and allowing hazel to step out of them. you lifted her button up over her head and unclasped her bra, letting them fall onto the space on the floor next to her. she was in awe of you. you were so gentle to her and she would never believe she deserved it, even if you reminded her of it everyday for the rest of her life. 

once she stood completely naked in front of you, you led her to lay down on bed, stomach facing up, before separating her legs and hooking one of your own over hers. 

you looked at her face for any sign of discomfort, only to be met with the rapid rise and fall of hazel’s chest and her eyes shut in euphoria. 

“hazel,” you caught her attention, she stared right at you, “keep your eyes on me.” you lowered yourself gently, placing your clit right on top of hers. both of you let out a sigh of relief at the feeling of your juices mixing with the others.

placing your hands on her stomach, you moved slowly, rocking your hips back and forth against hers. hazel struggled to keep her eyes open, getting lost in the pleasure you were giving her. she always thought of moments exactly like this and imagined it being a lot different. she imagined that she would be the one on top of you, taking charge and pulling orgasm after orgasm from you. but after feeling the movement of your hips against hers and the way your breasts bounced slightly when you would pick up your pace. hazel fought her hardest to keep her eyelids from drooping. she didn’t want to miss a single move you made.

you quickly found a steady rhythm and went faster, prompting hazel to cry out. you leaned down and caught her moans in a rough kiss. 

the familiar coil in your belly seemed to get tighter and tighter. hazel must’ve noticed the way your hips started to rock faster and knew you were about to cum.

“c’mon, cum for me, baby. give it to me, i’m almost there too,” she started rambling as she felt her orgasm approach her as well, “keep going, just a bit faster, angel.” both of you fought to keep your moans from being heard from anyone else in the house.

“fuck hazel, i’m cumming, i-” you were cut off as your orgasm hit you in waves. warmth spread throughout your body, making your limbs weak and causing your legs to nearly give out. 

you kept going, over stimulating yourself, trying to get hazel to reach her orgasm. by the looks of it, she was on the edge. her baby hairs stuck to her sweaty forehead, her face scrunched up in pleasure as her back arched into the air. 

“fuck fuck fuck fuck-” she rambled as her orgasm washed over her, quickly quieted by your mouth capturing hers. 

the both of you gently rode out your releases, breathless and sweaty. you carefully lifted yourself off of hazel and laid next to her on the bed. 

“we should talk about this, you know.” hazel started.

“we will. in the morning, i promise. for now, i just want to be with you.” that seemed to be enough for hazel.

you draped your arm over her waist, pulling her closer to you. she tucked her head in the crook of your neck and the both of you drifted off to sleep.