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mariasont · 10 days ago

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Laced With Love - A.H

summary: while hotch is away on a case, you do nothing but shop, and when hotch insists you use his card who are you to disobey him? especially when what you buy benefits the both of you

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader

warnings: 18+ MDNI, reader spending hotch's money (it's giving sugar daddy af), so much teasing, fingering, oral fem receiving, hotch worshipping reader, some inappropriate comments made in front of morgan accidentally, they both just completely forget about dinner and don't mention so ya know my bad, dirty talk, soft dom hotchy poo

wc: 3.5k

You had a little problem.

It all started innocently enough: one coffee to-go, a quick window shop in your favorite boutique, and somehow that led to you walking out with a bag containing the most adorable pair of heels that you couldn't leave behind. Then it snowballed—another store, another bag. A perfume counter. A cute sweater that was on sale, and, well, that one really didn't count because it was practical. It was warm. Functional, even.

Okay maybe you had a big problem.

But it wasn't until your phone buzzed in your bag, pulling you out of a deep debate over whether you needed the floral dress you were holding, that you realized just how many bags were hanging off your arms.

Mr. Bossman flashed across the screen.

The name was completely ridiculous (and more than a little outdated now that he was your boyfriend), but it fit in a weird, nostalgic way. He'd been away on one of those long-distance cases, the kind where you weren't needed, and you'd been counting the days (and minutes) until he'd call.

You grabbed your phone so fast you almost dropped the dress.

"Hi!" you answered, a little too quickly, your voice so giddy and sugar-sweet it could've given you a toothache. He always teased you for it, but right now you didn't care.

"Hi." His voice was warm, a little rough around the edges with exhaustion. "Just wanted to call and let you know I'll be home tonight."

Your heart practically leapt at his words. "Really? Finally! I thought I was going to shrivel up and die from boredom without you here. Okay, maybe not die, but like... what's the point of anything if you're not home to tell me I bought too many candles?"

"I'm not sure how you've lasted this long," he said. "Should I be worried about the state of the house? Or your bank account?"

"First of all, rude. Second of all, if you are so worried, maybe you shouldn't leave me alone for that long. Ever thought of that, Mr?"

His laugh came through the line, short and deep, and it hit you square in the chest. You closed your eyes, leaning into the sound like it could somehow bring him closer. You could see him so clearly--the way his face softened in a way that made him look ten years younger, the way his shoulders would drop, the way his eyes would crinkle. You missed him so much it hurt.

"Poor thing," he teased, still chuckling softly. "What's a girl to do when I'm not there entertain her? Besides spend my money, I mean."

"Don't worry, Aaron, your money is perfectly safe. My super respectable paycheck—you know, the one you sign—is covering me today."

"Hmm," he said, his voice still muffled. "Sounds like your boss is paying you too much."

"I don't know... I think you're getting a pretty good deal considering I keep you very taken care of. Would you like me to prove it later?"

"Hotch, tell me I did not just hear that."

You froze mid-breath, your hand flying to cover your mouth as a wave of heat rushed to your cheeks. That was Morgan’s voice. Morgan. You felt like a cartoon character with steam pouring out of your ears as your face burned red hot.

A nervous little squeak escaped you just as you heard Aaron fumbling with the phone, his voice clipped as he said something you couldn’t quite make out. There was a muffled shuffle, the sound of a door shutting, and finally, the blessed beep that meant he’d taken you off speaker.

"Christ, honey."

You peeked through your fingers, cheeks still burning as you tried to decide if you should laugh, cry, or maybe just dig yourself a hole and live there forever.

"So," you said, hesitating for a beat, "scale of one to ten, how dead am I? Should I preemptively file an HR complaint against myself, or just let Morgan handle my inevitable downfall?”

You heard him exhale sharply, the creak of a chair following as you pictured him leaning back with that half-smile he always gave when he was equal parts amused and exasperated.

“It’s fine. It’s a little embarrassing, sure. But nothing Morgan hasn’t done to himself ten times worse. He’ll give you a hard time for a day or so, Garcia will laugh, and then they’ll let it go.”

There was brief pause, and you could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “That being said, maybe think twice before making explicit promises while I’m at work, honey.”

You bit your lip, your gaze dropping to the shopping bag in your hand as you toyed with the strap absentmindedly.

"I mean, it's only fair I keep my promise now," you said softly, barely loud enough for him to hear. "It's the least I can do."

You heard a faint sound in the background—maybe him clearing his throat—before his voice dropped an octave. "You're already on thin ice today. Don’t make promises you can’t deliver on."

You let out a little huff, batting your lashes instinctively even though you knew he couldn’t see it.

"I don't know why you're doubting me, Mr. Hotchner. You should know I'm very serious about keeping my promises."

"You know, you're not making this easy on me, " Aaron muttered, his voice low and gruff. You could hear a faint groan, followed by what sounded like pacing on the other end. "Alright, I've really got to go now. Behave yourself. And how about you use my card for the rest of the shopping trip?"

"No, Aaron, I can't!" you said quickly, shaking your head as if he could see you. "You'd never trust me again with your card after the damage I'd do. Besides, you're already going to be shaking your head when you see what I got with my own money."

Aaron sighed, his voice going into that low, authoritative tone that always made your stomach flip.

"You will use the card." There was no room for argument in his words. "I want you to. End of discussion."

And just like that, the call ended with a click. You stared at the screen for a moment as if it might magically reopen the call so could argue your case one more time. But, of course, that didn't happen.

He’d told you to use his card—he demanded it, actually—but your fingers still hesitated, clutching the little piece of plastic like it was about to bite you.

You glanced at the white lace lingerie folded neatly on the counter, the delicate fabric practically winking at you. It wasn’t just pretty—it was the kind of perfect that made your heart flutter. Normally, you’d talk yourself out of something so indulgent, but this time? Well, Aaron had practically begged you to buy something… and you couldn’t think of a better way to treat both of you.

You only hesitated for the briefest moment before swiping his card, your heart doing a little flip as the cashier folded the lingerie into tissue paper with careful hands. It felt like a tiny secret between you and Aaron—a very fun secret.

By the time you got home, the sun had started to dip below the horizon, and you knew you had some time before Aaron made it back. He always gave you a pretty reliable ETA. It was the perks of dating someone so anal.

You lugged your shopping bags up to the bedroom, your arms aching a little, but in the best way possible. Once in the bedroom, you started unpacking everything like it was Christmas morning. Dresses went in the closet, shoes were lined up neatly, and you stashed the receipts in the nightstand just in case Aaron did ask how much damage you'd done.

Then you pulled out the piece—the one you'd bought with him in mind. The silk felt decadent under your fingertips, and the delicate lace was almost too beautiful to wear. Almost. It fit like a glove, hugging every inch of you like it had been tailored specifically for this moment.

Feeling pleased with yourself, you made your way to the kitchen and slipped into your favorite frilly apron, tying the bow neatly at the back. Cooking wasn’t exactly your specialty, but you were determined to make this work. Pasta seemed foolproof enough (right?), and you threw together a salad and garlic bread for good measure. By some miracle, nothing caught on fire, and the kitchen actually smelled amazing.

You found yourself glancing at the clock every few minutes. When you finally heard the sound of a key turning in the lock, you glanced over your shoulder, heart skipping a beat.

"Hi honey!" you called sweetly, pretending as if standing in the kitchen wearing practically nothing was the most common thing in the world.

Aaron stepped inside, the door clicking behind him, but the second his eyes landed on you, he froze. His tie was loosened, his sleeves slightly wrinkled, and his hair looked like he’d run his fingers through it at least a dozen times today. But none of that mattered now—he stood there like he’d forgotten how to breathe, his dark eyes drinking you in.

You smiled at him, slow and innocent, brushing your hands lightly against the counter. "Dinner's almost ready."

"Sweetheart..." His voice was deeper than usual, strained and almost ragged, like he was trying to pull himself together and failing miserably.

"Yes?" you replied, acting as if you didn’t notice the way his eyes were glued to you while you turned off the burner and set the pan aside.

"What..." He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing as his gaze dragged down your body, lingering shamelessly on the curve of your ass. "What are you wearing?"

You turned to face him fully, the delicate lace tugging just slightly as you moved, drawing his eyes lower without him even realizing it.

"Oh this?" you said, gesturing vaguely to the piece. "It's just something I picked up today. You told me to use your card, so I thought I'd get something you'd like."

His jaw tightened, eyes scanning you slowly before lingering on the pink bows peeking out over the apron. "You used my card on this?"

"Mm-hmm," you hummed, your hands gliding down the soft lace as you took a step closer, looking up at him through your lashes. "I figured it was an investment. You know, for both of us."

Aaron groaned, low and frustrated, pinching the bridge of his nose for a brief second before letting his hand drop.

“Using my card for this…” His voice was rough as he closed the space between you in one long stride, his hands landing on your waist and pulling you flush against him. His lips curved into the faintest smirk as his voice dipped lower. “Was the one thing you’ve done right today. Now take this off—slowly, sweetheart—and let me see exactly what I bought.”

He pinched at the bow on your apron, his fingers tugging lightly, but you stepped back just enough to be out of his immediate reach.

“If you were that eager to see what I bought,” you teased, your fingertips grazing one of the straps of the apron, “maybe you shouldn’t have left me waiting so long.”

You slipped one strap off your shoulder, letting it fall halfway, then paused, tilting your head slightly as if daring him to come closer.

"Trying on pretty things, waiting for me to come home—must've been absolutely draining," Aaron shook his head slowly.

You pouted at him, pushing your bottom lip out just enough to make his eyes soften. He chuckled quietly, stepping closer until his hands braced the counter on either side of you, caging you in.

"But you know what? I missed you too. And seeing you like this... makes being away feel like torture."

Your pout melted into a glowing smile as your hands found their way to his chest, your fingers brushing lightly over his shirt.

“You mean it? You really missed me?”

"Of course I did." His hands cupped your jaw gently, his thumbs brushing along your cheeks as if he couldn’t quite believe you were real. His other hand moved slowly to the bow at your waist, pulling the knot loose with an easy tug. "Now, angel, let me see what else I've been missing."

The apron slipped to the ground, forgotten, as Aaron’s eyes locked onto you. He blinked once, then twice, his expression unreadable except for the slight parting of his lips, like he’d been robbed of air.

His gaze traveled over you like a slow caress, taking in the way the lace hugged your curves, teasing him with everything it didn’t quite cover. His eyes lingered on your chest, where the sheer fabric exposed the peaks of your nipples, and you caught the subtle hitch in his breath as he swallowed hard, his jaw clenching slightly.

You tilted your head, letting your expression soften into something sweetly innocent as you leaned back against the counter. The lace shifted with the movement, exposing just enough to make his jaw tighten. Then, just for a second, you parted your legs, catching his sharp inhale as you gave him a soft, almost shy smile.

When he realized what wasn't under the lace, his eyes snapped back up to yours. Without a word, he dropped to his knees, hands sliding over your thighs until they rested just above your knees.

A soft gasp escaped your lips, heart skipping several beats as you stared down at him. You hadn't expected this. Not the way his knees hit the floor like it was second nature, not the way his palms spread wide against your skin, thumb brushing over the curve of your inner thighs as he looked up to you.

He must be exhausted, that was your only explanation. But then his hands pressed harder into your thighs, and the thought evaporated. His eyes weren't clouded with exhaustion—they were focused, like he was memorizing every inch of you.

Your stomach twisted sharply, your legs suddenly feeling like they couldn’t hold you upright anymore. He was looking at you like you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. That singular thought settled in your chest, blooming like a flower, before curling low in your belly, leaving you breathless.

His lips grazed your thigh in the softest of touches, like he was savoring the moment. Slowly, he pressed another kiss, firmer this time, his fingers tightening around your thighs as his grip became more insistent. He kissed you again, higher and slower, his nose grazing your skin, breath fanning over you. A deep, contented hum rumbled from his chest.

"What have I done," he murmured, his voice rasping like the words have been pulled from his chest, "to deserve this? To deserve you?"

His eyes flickered up to meet yours. "Tell me, angel, because I'd do it a hundred times over if it meant to have you like this."

You wanted to tell him everything—the depth of your love, how he made you feel like the luckiest person alive—but the words lodged in your throat.

"Aaron... I... you're just..." you stammered, voice trembling as your fingers curled around the edge of the counter.

Before you could gather your thoughts, he lifted one of your legs, hooking it over his shoulder, fingers digging into your skin. His lips brushed higher, dangerously close to your exposed cunt, and a soft, broken sound escaped you.

He hummed against your skin, the vibration shooting straight through you.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" His breath was hot against your thigh. "You always have so much to say. Don’t tell me you’re out of words already. I haven’t even started.”

"I was going to tell you how—oh, gosh, Aaron—"

Your words you had been trying to string together scattered completely, replaced by a shaky moan as his mouth pressed firmly against your clit. Your breathing stuttered, your chest rising and falling as waves of pleasure coursed through you, drowning out every thought but him.

His mouth was everywhere—warm, insistent, and impossibly skilled as his tongue traced over your clit with maddening precision. He worked like a man possessed, drawing sounds from you that you didn't even know you were capable of making. He was too good at this—too good at knowing exactly where and how to touch you, too good at making you fall apart with just his mouth.

Then he shifted, his hand gripping your other thigh as he lifted your second leg over his shoulder, leaving you completely at his mercy. The sound you made was somewhere between a gasp and a moan, your hands flying to his hair as your head tipped back.

Your back pressed against the edge of the counter awkwardly, a dull ache building in your lower spine, but it was nothing compared to the torrent of pleasure radiating through you. His tongue moved in devastating accuracy, his hands gripping your thighs like he was gluing you to himself. Your chest moved in shaky breaths, his name slipping from your lips in trembling cries that you couldn’t hold back.

"If I'd known this would be my reward," you gasped, tugging hard at his hair, your words faltering as your head tipped back. "I'd have emptied your whole wallet—oh, fuck—“

His lips closed firmly around your clit, pulling firmly in a way that destroyed your sentence completely. His hands tightened on your thighs, keeping you locked exactly where he wanted you.

"You must really mean it if you're cursing now." His tongue flicked over you again, making your back arch sharply. "Didn’t know you had that in you... let’s see what else I can get you to say, angel."

A warm flush spread up your neck and into your cheeks, heat rising faster than you could control. "I didn't mean to--"

You were cut off once again as his finger slid into your pussy. Any trace of embarrassment was gone, swept away by the overwhelming need pooling deep in your core, leaving nothing but raw desire in its place.

The pressure, coiling low in your stomach, was building so fast you could barely keep up with it. Every tell-tale sign was there—the trembling of your thighs, the way your chest shuddered in shallow breaths, and most incriminating of all, the words spilling from your lips before you could even think about them.

"I love you," you gasp, the desperation clear as ever. "I love you so much, I love you—Aaron, oh—"

He groaned against your clit, his tongue pressing hard as though your words were the fuel he needed to pull you apart completely. His finger curled again, hitting that spot that made you vision blur. His eyes flicked up, and you could tell he knew exactly what was happening. He always knew.

"I know, angel," he murmured, his voice muffled against your skin. "Now show me just how much."

Your orgasm hit you with staggering intensity, a wave of heat and pleasure crashing through you that left every inch of your body trembling. Your breath came in uneven, stuttering gasps as his name spilled from your lips, over and over, like a mantra you couldn’t stop repeating.

"That's my girl," Aaron murmured, his lips brushing against your sensitive skin as his finger worked you through the waves.

His lips pressed on last kiss to your thigh before he straightened, his hands immediately wrapping around your waist like he predicted you'd collapse without him. As soon as he lifted you, you clung to him like your life depended on it (and in that moment you were sure it did), your arms winding around his neck.

Everything felt distant, like you were floating somewhere above yourself. Your head rested limply on his shoulder, your lips brushing against the side of his neck. Your fingers curled weakly against the fabric of his shirt, and for a fleeting moment, you weren’t even sure your body had substance anymore—you felt soft, boneless, entirely his.

Aaron tapped the back of your thigh gently. "Come on, sweetheart, up."

You tried—really, you did—but your body wasn't cooperating. Your legs dangled uselessly, and you let out a soft, half-laugh, half-whisper. "Can't."

He huffed a quiet laugh.

"Hopeless," he teased. He hoisted you up before you could process it, his shoulder pressing into your stomach as he flipped you over it. A surprised squeak escaped you, but his hand was already bracing your thigh as he started up the stairs. "I guess I'll just have to do all the work, as usual."

"You're so strong," you mumbled dreamily, your head lolling against his shoulder. "Like... disgustingly strong. It’s so hot."

Aaron laughed, his hand smacking your ass. "Keep talking like that, sweetheart and I'll start using you for my next workout routine. And I guarantee it'll be something you'll feel tomorrow."

"Mr. Hotchner!" you gasped, your voice half-indignant and half-giggling. "And you act like I’m the inappropriate one in this relationship!"

Aaron chuckled, shaking his head as he carried you into the bedroom. He lowered you down, tossing you onto the bed just hard enough to make you bounce lightly against the mattress. You let out a soft laugh, body sinking into the covers as you looked up at him.

“The difference is, I have the good sense not to say things like that on speakerphone.”

You let out a small laugh, raising your eyebrows. “And you should have the good sense not to trust me on speakerphone. Really, Aaron, rookie move.”

He stood tall at the edge of the bed, his fingers slowly loosening the top button of his shirt as he tilted his head. "“That’s fine. We’ll call it even—after you make good on that promise."

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#aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader #aaron hotchner x bimbo assistant reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x fem reader #aaron hotchner #hotch #criminal minds fic #criminal minds smut

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holybibly · 8 months ago

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𝕀'𝕝𝕝 𝕓𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕞𝕒𝕟 | 𝕐𝕦𝕟𝕙𝕠 𝕩 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

ℙ𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘: Best friend Yunho x reader 𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕣𝕖 / 𝔸𝕦 / 𝕋𝕣𝕠𝕡𝕖: Smut, Friends to lovers!au, Non-Idol AU ℝ𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘: 18+ / 21+ / MDNI 𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 5.2k 𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: Yunho is a good friend, perhaps too good for you, and who else but him will help you discover a new sexual experience? Or Yunho will show you what it's like to have a real man take care of you. 𝕎𝔸ℝℕ𝕀ℕ𝔾: Hands and fingers kink, finger sucking, fingering, degrading, pet names, size kink, dirty talk, explicit sexual content, explicit language, squirting, pussy slapping, oral, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, praise kink and more.

𝕟𝕖𝕥: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity @newworldnet

𝔸/ℕ: My responses to your requests, bunnies, are being taken to a whole new level. It's also what's been on your mind so much lately - Yunho and his beautiful fingers. Honestly, it's just a huge chunk of pure smut dedicated to Yunho's hands. But, I don't regret it at all.

ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔶 𝔅𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 Part I @tiny-apocalypse @captain-joongz @alicedawitchbish @woohwababes @wlv-asteria @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mingisprincesss @lavishloving @teagietots @spooo00oky @sousydive @hwapou @bunnliix @softwsan @mjyungi @fantasy2wonderland @noirsfantasy @cassies-cookies @renaholicss @luffypants @hyukssunflower @watermelon2319 @peachygiku @bunnyxoxodarling @stolasisyourparent @soranosnowbunny @certifiedmoa @sanglix @slvtiny @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @hecateslittlewitchling @xxawl @pastellbunno @starlletsblog @seonghwasstar @hwanring @vtyb23 @pearltinyy @minjaeum @chasevixx @bomi-ja @onedumbho3 @sanglix @cursedeastern @itza-meee @pinkies-things @atinism @mxnsxngie @nenefix-on @therealcuppicake @annafeebou @sharksandminhos @@lixies-pixieboy @@vampzity @0rangemilk @yellow-foxxing ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔶 𝔅𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 Part II @unholywriters @hey-syia @hrts4nohee @vnessalau @mlink64 @tessakleine @fr34k4c1dr41n @313hwa @lilyuwon @tiziamattaga @un-knew @wiaxul @siyah-staryis @seonghwasbbgirl

"You know, it's not that difficult. If you want to give it a try, I can do it for you, Chagi."

When you hear these words fall from his pretty lips, your eyes widen in a comical way, and your mouth falls open a little.

'What do you mean?' You ask him quietly, just to make sure Yunho meant exactly what he said.

'Cum, baby. I can make you come with just the touch of my fingers.' Yunho says this in an easy, casual way, raising his big hand to the level of your face and moving his fingers to get your attention. "You know, it's called fingering."

Oh shit. He really meant what he said. Your heart starts beating faster at the sound of his slightly husky voice, and you automatically focus your gaze on his beautiful, long fingers. Fucking long, beautiful fingers. Sometimes you even wonder if Yunho's fingers could be longer than the dicks of some guys you've had sex with. Jeong Yunho was not just a good friend. He was the greatest friend in the world. Accommodating, sweet, and witty, he was always ready to help you in every situation and listen to you anytime, day and night. There were never any secrets between you two; Yunho knew everything about you, just as you knew everything about him.

You couldn't have been more grateful to him when Yunho came over to your house with ice cream and sweets after another 'cool' guy had turned you down on a date.

He sat beside you, big and warm like a golden retriever puppy, listening to all your complaints about being dumped, letting you nibble away your disappointment with ice cream and chocolate, wrapped up in his wonderfully soft sweatshirt, smelling of his vanilla-woody perfume. The smell of him used to make you dizzy all the time.

This was not the first time you'd been in this situation, and nights like this had become something of a tradition for you. Yunho always listened to you when you complained about how disgusting and unsatisfying your dates were. He was always on your side. To be honest, you always liked Yunho—much more than you should like a friend, but who wouldn't like Yunho? He was the absolute embodiment of the perfect man—looks, manners, character, and on and on. And you were completely out of his league. But in spite of all of that, Yunho never made you feel uncomfortable when you were in his presence. You always talked to each other in an open way, and there were no taboo subjects between the two of you. Even about sex... Over the years of your friendship, you had a good idea of what Yunho was capable of in bed, and he knew your preferences and desires regarding sex.

But when you told him about your other boyfriend's inability to bring you to orgasm, he had never offered to help you with your sexual frustration. To this very day.

"C'mon, you don't mean that." You say this as you shove a spoonful of strawberry ice cream into your mouth. The creamy, whipped mass melts in an instant as soon as it comes into contact with the warmth of your tongue, leaving behind a light taste of berry.

Right now, instead of your favourite ice cream, you really wish that Yunho had brought a couple of bottles of soju with him. Then you could blame the alcohol in your blood for making you blush, rather than the fact that his suggestion made you both confused and excited.

"Actually, I'm quite serious, Chagiya. I can make you cum with just the tips of my fingers.' He said it just as easily and calmly as he had before, looking at you with those big, shiny eyes of his.

Yunho looked so relaxed as he sat next to you, his arms wrapped around the big soft cushion, and you, in contrast to him, began to squirm a little in your seat under the sudden weight of his usually soft chocolate gaze.

"Look, T/N, if you don't want to do this, I understand; you don't have to worry so much. We can pretend this conversation never happened, and I'll keep listening to you complain to me about men who are too selfish in their desires and can't give you what you need. I've always told you, Chagiya, that you deserve so much more than these pathetic idiots you've been dating, and unlike them, I don't have to stick my cock in your pussy to make you come. I can fuck you stupid, just with my fingers." Yunho puts the pillow to the side and leans in a little bit closer to you. When he starts to speak again, his voice becomes more husky and sultry. "But I'm not going to do anything that you don't ask me to do. Just say the word, and we'll forget the whole thing."

"Yunho... I don't know; it's all so sudden." You mumbled, unsure, biting down on your lower lip and glancing down at his hands once more.

God, Yunho's offer was as tempting as it was damaging, but damn it, this was exactly what you wanted. You wanted it so badly. Perhaps, just perhaps, you'd been thinking about his hands more often than you'd admitted. More than once or twice, you've imagined how those broad, big palms of his would feel on your body, and even more so, how great his long fingers would feel as they plunged deep into your pussy. You are sure that the stretching is going to be nothing short of delicious. But you also knew that if you agreed to his proposal, your little crush on him would take a dangerous new turn. You were already halfway to falling head over heels in love with him, and this situation wasn't going to make it any easier for you at all.

"Relax, Chagi; there's no pressure. We can just forget about it; I already told you. If you don't want it...'

'But I do want to.' Before you had a second to think about what you'd just said, the words flew out of your mouth.

For a moment, you couldn't think straight, and there was a heavy pause between you that made you want to slap yourself on the forehead. You shyly glanced at Yunho from under your lashes in an attempt to analyse the expression on his pretty face.

Yunho runs his tongue over his lips, leaving a glistening trace on the soft, pink flesh, and you unconsciously repeat the movement as he does. He can already see that you're totally into it, and a slight satisfied smile appears on his face.

"I'm not going to lie; it sounds nice. But you don't have to do that; I understand if you were just kidding and..."

"Y/N, I'm not kidding. You're beautiful, sexy, and sweet, and you totally deserve to have your body worshipped. You need a man to show you how it's done, not a boy, Chagiya.' Yunho raised his eyes to you, and the darkness swirling inside them was something you'd never seen before.

God, that look—why does he have to look like that right now? It was the first time since you'd met Yunho that you felt so turned on by his presence. Damn it. You could feel your body heating up and moisture starting to gather between your legs, making your lace panties stick uncomfortably to your bare pussy. But you tried to ignore it and just squeezed your thighs tighter. He probably didn't even mean it in a serious way, and you're already starting to fantasise about it.

'Oh, Yunho...' That's all you could manage to say at the moment. There were too many thoughts running around in your head—too many ideas—for you to be able to focus on anything in particular.

On the outside, Yunho was completely calm, but there was a real flame of desire burning inside of him. He wanted to touch you so badly; he wanted to touch you in a way that friends were never supposed to do. It literally ate him up from within, but he was just a friend to you. You never looked at him with those seductive eyes that he knew you gave to other guys, guys not like him, guys who could never satisfy you properly, who could never fill you and make you squeal and dumb from their dicks. He could give you that. Yunho could give you anything you wanted.

Tonight, when he had offered to fuck you with his fingers, it had been a thought he hadn't even realised he had said out loud. But damn, now he was unspeakably glad he had done it. You were right there in front of him, and he wasn't going to deny himself the chance to finally get what he wanted. He didn't care about the consequences. After all, when Yunho was done with you, you wouldn't be able to think about anyone else but him. God, all he can think about is how beautiful you'll look when you collapse under his touch and the blissful look on your face when you come on his fingers. Hell, he's hoping to see you drooling and squirting with his name on your lips.

"What should I do?" you ask, pulling the sleeves of his sweatshirt tighter over your hands so that only your fingertips are visible. God, this is so fucking embarrassing.

Yunho just grinned and moved even closer to you, so that your legs were now resting against his thigh. He gently cupped his large, warm palms around your face and forced you to look into his eyes.

"Just relax for me. Will you? Let a real man take care of you properly, Chagiya."

Jeong fucking Yunho, you should stop now, or you'll start begging him for more than his fingers, and when you say that, you mean his dick. And generally, it wasn't even metaphorical—erything in Yunho's body was of impressive size, and his dick was no exception. You'd never tell Yunho, but you might have accidentally seen him masturbating a couple of times when he stayed at your place. Of course, it was completely by accident, but the image of his beautiful hands wrapping around his huge, thick, veiny cock, the deep, husky moaning and the blissful expression on his handsome face—that's the image that's burned into the back of your eyelids for life. The memory alone made your pussy clench around nothing.

Yunho slowly ran his thumb over your lips, smearing the remains of your favourite strawberry ice cream, while you were lost in thought. He made a mental note to buy you some strawberry lube for the next time you have sex, which is definitely going to happen. He doesn't even doubt it. You reflexively open your lips as you feel the slightly rough pad of his thumb pressing against the soft, sticky flesh of your lower lip, allowing him to push his finger deep into the wet warmth of your mouth.

Yunho's eyes grow heavy with desire as your tongue wraps lightly around the long appendage and you begin to suck on his finger, looking up at him from under your lashes with big stag eyes as if to ask for his approval.

"Such a good girl for me." A deep groan echoes in his chest as he sees your plush lips wrapped tightly around his finger, and Yunho can't help but think about how those same lips would wrap beautifully around his thick cock. But what he'll really be dreaming about for the next few weeks is the sugary expression on your face as you lick the slightly calloused pad of his thumb with your tongue. Your lower lip glistens with ice cream residue and saliva. Fuck. You look so fucking slutty and sweet at the same time that all he wants to do is bend you over and fuck your brains out.

You can't hold back the whimper that comes out of your throat at the praise he gives you. Did you ever think that you would have a craving for praise in you, or is it just because of Yunho? The vibration around his finger reaches all the way up to his crotch, and his cock twitches as it strains against the jeans. You suck his finger deeper into your mouth—wet and hot—sliding your tongue over it, up and down. Back and forth over it. When he suddenly pulls his finger out of your mouth, a thread of saliva connecting it to your flushed lips, you let out a weak moan of frustration.

"Baby, I'm the one who has to take care of you today. Aren't I?" He said as he let go of your face and got up from the couch, only to kneel down in front of you, but even in this position, Yunho still towered over you, making you feel small and vulnerable. When did your adorable puppy retriever ever have the time to turn into a big, bad wolf? "If you change your mind..." He began placing his hot palms on the bare skin of your thighs and discreetly pulling them apart so he could get a good look at your wet panties, the sight of which made his mouth fill with saliva. "Just say the word, and I'll stop immediately. Anytime, chagi..."

Honestly, Yunho is absolutely lying to you right now; he doesn't know if he can take his hands off you at all, especially after seeing your pretty pussy covered only by the thin lace. The milky French lace hugs your cunt perfectly, stretching just enough to outline the shape of your labia, and he can't stop himself from moaning as he sees it. Your excitement seeps out onto the fabric, forming a large wet patch at the front. Yunho knows that your hole is throbbing with the need to be filled and your clit is swelling, begging to be touched.

Yunho's fingers dig hard into the soft flesh of your thighs, much harder than you expected, and you whimper, biting your lower lip and shaking slightly under the grip of his hands.

"I get it...I trust you, Yunho."

"That's it, Chagi. I'm going to make you feel so good. I swear." Yunho whispers as he leans down and kisses the top of your thighs while he keeps his eyes on your face for a second. Your mind is in such a state of confusion that you can't concentrate on anything else but Yunho and the warmth of his hands and his lips on your skin.

He can't resist sticking out his tongue and licking the thick strip on your clothed cunt. He moans into your pussy and your face feels like it's burning. Yunho runs his tongue over the smooth fabric of your pussy once more, moistening it even more with his saliva.

God, you're amazing. He's wanted this for such a damn long time, and right now he can say that his cock is harder than it's ever been. He wouldn't be lying. How could he not be?

"You're so beautiful, baby." You begin to wriggle in his arms as Yunho's lips close over your pussy, and you hear the sound of faint sucking on the wet lace in his mouth, his beautiful lips pressing right up against your throbbing clit making your little hole contract even more, begging to be filled.

'Oh God, Yuyu...' Your tone is whiny, almost pleading, and you feel a satisfied smile spread across his mouth as he buries his face harder into your pussy, your legs trembling slightly at the movement of the lace over your sensitive folds. He hasn't even done anything yet, and he's practically pushing you to your limit, and you're almost ashamed of it. If Yunho keeps going like this, you're going to come just from him sucking on your panties, and he doesn't even have to use his hands to do it.

"Mmm, my girl is so warm and sweet; I can't wait to feel that cunt from the inside." He says it quietly. His voice is deeper and huskier than you've ever heard before. Yunho lets the disgustingly wet material of your underwear out of his mouth and bites lightly on the inside of your thigh, causing you to gasp for breath. "Chagi, as much as I like seeing you in my clothes, I want you to take off your sweater. Let me see those nice tits of yours."

Maybe it's his voice, or the dark, burning look in his eyes that are usually too soft and shiny, or maybe it's Yunho himself, but you obediently follow his command, eager to please him. Agonisingly slowly, your hands pull up the super-soft fabric, exposing more of your skin millimetre by millimetre. You find yourself holding your breath, waiting to see what his reaction to your naked body will be. Your fingers brushed against the boning of your bra, sliding up the thin lace cup, higher up the bulging tops of your breasts, until Yunho's sweatshirt was next to you on the couch, and you were standing in front of him in nothing but your lace underwear. Remembering what he'd said, you cupped your breasts with your palms and squeezed lightly a few times before pulling the lace cup down and letting your tits fall out. Your nipples were instantly made hard by the coolness of the air.

"You've got such nice tits, baby. Play with them for me. Show me how you like to please yourself." Jesus, what's going on right now? Your ex-boyfriends never treated you like this, eager to get into your cunt as fast as possible to get their own high. And that condescending tone of his voice, you would never have thought that Yunho could be like that, but damn, you were in love with it. Maybe even a bit too much for your own good.

'Mm, okay.' You closed your eyes tightly and concentrated on massaging and kneading your breasts, occasionally tracing the sensitive nipples and lightly scratching them with your fingernails, before wrapping your fingers around them and pulling.

Your back arched, and your mouth opened in a loud moan. The sharp sensation of the rough stimulation sent a powerful rush of pleasure through your body.

"You're so good for me; next time I'll suck your tits until you cum just from the feel of my mouth on your nipples." The words made your pussy quiver, spurting out more moisture, and you moaned loudly, flicking your fingers over the hard, dark pink buds.

"You can't say such things..." You whimper at Yunho's vulgar words, but still, your body responds in the most delightful manner to this.

"Stop me then, Chagi. Tell me that I should stop." Yunho says, kissing your clothed pussy gently and drooling even more on your panties. The sensation of his kisses almost made you miss the moment when his fingers ran along your slit, lightly pressing the lace between your labia. The contrast between the lace fabric and the soft touch of his warm lips was making your body burn, and if he was going to continue to tease you like this, you were just going to go crazy.

"P-please... Please, Yunho." You whimpered, which made him stop teasing you for a moment, and he lifted his head to meet your gaze. You looked so fucking beautiful for him: your hands squeezing the swollen flesh of your tits, leaving the red fingerprints on them; your hair a total mess; your legs spread wide so he could see your pretty pussy; and your gaze completely unfocused and hazy. He was just getting started playing with you, and you looked so fucked already.

"Please, what, baby? What do you want? Tell me, Chagi."

"I need more, please... Fuck me, Yunho. Make me cum on your fingers." You began to whimper, looking up at him with big, pleading eyes.

"Look at you; you're already such a slut to me, aren't you, Chagi? Your pretty little panties are all sticky and wet from the amount of slime leaking from your needy cunt. Do you want my fingers deep inside you? Shall I make you squirt, baby?" Yunho's voice was dark and low as he lightly scraped his nail across your clit through the lace, and you screamed as your body began to tremble slightly as your cunt tightened around nothing at all. "You want that, don't you?"

"Mmm hmm." You moaned, shaking your head to confirm. Right now, you can barely concentrate on anything but the sensation of Yunho's presence beside you, his hand touching your wet pussy. When he touches you like this, you can't help but think about the size of his hands, the length of his fingers, and how deep they can go into you.

Yunho's fingers hook into the lace of your panties before pulling them aside as he blows lightly on your pussy. A smug smirk spreads across his handsome lips as you're shrieking softly and your hips are shaking weakly from the intense stimulation.

"The words, Chagi, I need your words; otherwise, you won't get what you want so much. I could play with you all night long..." Yunho presses his fingers to your swollen clit, rubbing it in tight circles before scratching it with his fingernail, causing you to moan lewdly and raise your hips to get more of the burning sensation of euphoria that is spreading through your body from his touch. You are completely unaware of how much your dynamic with Yunho has changed in such a short time. You hadn't noticed the dark, domineering side of his personality before, cleverly hidden behind his chocolate eyes and adorable puppy behaviour.

"Oh God, yes, I want it so badly. Please, Yunho, fuck me as deep as you can with your fingers. Make me squirt. I need it so badly..."

"Since you're asking me so nicely, baby, Who am I to refuse you?"

Everything is happening too fast for you to be aware of it. Yunho's long, flexible fingers slide easily into your cunt as the slightly rough pads of his fingers rub along the soft, tight walls of your pussy.

You moan pathetically. The sensation of pleasure mixes with the pain and flows through your body like hot lava as he forces your tender pussy to stretch around his fingers, your soft walls aching as they open up for him. He pushes his fingers deeper and deeper into you until the long appendages are inside of you all the way down to the base. His thumb presses against your clit, rubbing it in rough, tight circles as he goes. You let out a long, loud moan, so obscene you can hardly believe it's coming from you. But there's absolutely nothing you can do to stop it, especially when Yunho's beautiful, skilled fingers are delighting you.

'Yunho...' His name flies out of your bitten lips with a soft, panting whimper.

You lower your eyes down, your vision blurred with excitement, and through the lustful haze, you see how much his fingers are glistening with your juices as they thrust in and out, making slippery, wet noises with each movement of his hand. You're so fucking wet, it's almost embarrassing.

"Do you like it when I fuck you with my fingers?' Yunho asks you with a smug smile as he carelessly pushes his fingers into your pussy. When he pulls them out of your hole, a huge amount of mucus comes out of the small opening, a sight that is so disgusting and erotic at the same time that it almost makes him cum. His hard dick, painfully squeezed between his underwear and the thick denim, throbs and leaks pre-cum.

Yunho's throat dries up as he sees the thick sheen of your excitement covering the length of his fingers, and he sticks out his tongue to lick his lips. He runs his fingers along your folds, smearing as much of the slime as he can over them, watching as the thick and sticky strands of moisture stretch out behind his fingers.

Your wetness shines everywhere: on your swollen labia, on your soft, silky folds, on the inside of your thighs, and he desperately wants to lick you. But he'll save that for another time; right now, it's all about making you cum just from his hands.

"Y-yeah, I like that so much. Fuck...". Your words turn into a long, drawn-out whimper as Yunho spreads the folds of your folds with his fingers and gently blows cool air over your swollen clit. He can clearly see how red and swollen your pussy is, and the excitement that flows from your quivering hole is gathering in the slippery puddle under your arse as you lie on the couch.

"Fuck, you're so perfect—all pretty and flushed for me. I'm going to milk that sweet cunt of yours until you're a total wreck and you beg me to stop. Orgasm after orgasm, you're going to give me every last drop of you." Yunho plunges two fingers into your tight cunt once more, his long appendages easily opening you up and stretching the silky walls. He bends his fingers deep inside of you, pressing them perfectly against the small, super-sensitive bundle of nerves, and you almost lose it.

You instantly scream in ecstasy, your eyes rolling up as the pleasure runs through your body like a surge of electricity, the tight walls of your pussy clenching rhythmically, thick streams of your sweet moisture dripping from your hole onto the palm of his hand and running down his veiny forearm.

Yunho immediately picks up the pace and starts fucking you as if his life depended on it. With his other hand, he squeezes your thigh to keep you in place and to prevent you from closing your legs.

As your hips start shaking violently, your groans turn to pathetic sobs, and your cunt begins to milk his fingers—your inner walls clench rhythmically around his fingers—Yunho knows you're close. He abruptly pulls his fingers out of you, and before you can react, he slaps you across your pussy with the open palm of his hand. You squeal at the searing contact, black spots dancing in front of your eyes as you sink into blinding bliss and feel a wave of incredible pleasure wash over you.

But Yunho doesn't stop there; he slaps your pretty cunt several more times, each time a little bit harder than the last.

"God, you look gorgeous. We're almost there, baby, just a little bit more..." Yunho groans like he's about to come. But you are so lost in a thick haze of bliss that you are barely aware of what he is saying to you.

His fingers plunge into you again, this time even deeper, stroking over your most sensitive spot over and over again, almost bringing you to a state of semi-consciousness. Your body is tensed, your back is arched, and your hips are rolling wildly as he moves his hand. The knuckles of his fingers flex mercilessly as he aggressively caresses the sensitive, spongy stretch of nerve inside you. There is a genuine sense of euphoria coursing through your veins. The silky walls of your vagina clench together almost to the point of pain to prevent the movement of his fingers.

The edges of your vision blur, and you feel the walls of your pussy begin to contract intensively, a sign that your climax is near.

"Yunho! Shit, I... I'm going to..." As your orgasm consumed you, your head was thrown back, and your mouth opened in a loud moan. God, this must be exactly what Yunho had in mind when he told you that you were in need of a man, not a boy. You've been fucked, really fucked, for the first time in your life. But Yunho doesn't want to let you rest; instead, he continues to play with your throbbing pussy and sticks a third long finger into you with a dirty, obscene squelch.

"It's too much... Yuyu. Please, too much..."

Your words were nothing more than noise as Yunho paid no attention to them and continued his merciless caresses. You had no choice but to accept what he was giving you. A pleasure that went so deep into you that it became almost unbearable. But it was exactly what you'd always wanted—the feeling that none of your exes had been able to give you.

Yunho continued to twist and turn his fingers, touching the spongy and sensitive spot, and for a moment all you could see was white as you came for the second time. Your legs were shaking uncontrollably as your cum flowed uncontrollably down his arm and down his forearm as Yunho continued to push his fingers deep inside you, making your pussy squelch even louder, all the while keeping you at the height of your orgasm.

Every time his finger tips touched your cervix, a delightful shiver ran through your body.

His other hand grabbed hold of your thigh, his long fingers digging roughly into the soft flesh, leaving black, stinging marks and nails that were almost scratched until they bled.

"Please, Yunho... I can't take it any longer. Please!" You begged, but all he did was laugh sombrely and spread his fingers inside you, stretching you even further. "N-no, this is too much..."You were sobbing openly now as he lowered his head to lick the strips between your folds, occasionally circling your defenceless clit with his tongue, his silky hair tickling the inflamed skin on the inside of your thighs.

"Let go, Chagi, cum on my fingers; feel what it's like to be fucked by a man instead of a boy. Show me how you squirt, baby. Make a real mess of it for me." He said this without slowing down the pace of his movements at all.

You felt the familiar tension in your belly again, and the muscles in your thighs clenched as he suddenly pulled the palm of his hand away from your thigh and used two fingers to pinch your clit instead. The spiral in your stomach burst without warning, and then you came, but this time it was different for you: a huge wave of clear liquid erupted from your over-excited cunt and soaked Yunho's hand and his chin, flooding the couch beneath you and his white t-shirt.

The lightning-like waves travelled all over your body, and you were practically panting from the hot pleasure that was washing over you. Yunho gently stroked your folds and whispered sweet words about how well you had done and what a good girl you had been for him as he let you enjoy your third orgasm.

Finally, he pulled away and removed his fingers from your used, swollen cunt. His lips curled into a satisfied grin when he saw the mess you made.

You hiss with over-excitement as Yunho runs his tongue over your sensitive folds once again. His tongue swirls seductively over your quivering, leaking hole, and as he does so, you let out a strangled scream from your throat.

When Yunho is completely satisfied, he releases you and raises the gaze of his beautiful chocolate eyes to your face, which is exhausted from several repeated orgasms.

"I told you, Chagi, it's not hard at all. You just need the perfect man, and in my hope, I will be that man for you.".

2K notes · View notes

bitchimasnake-sss · 17 days ago

Note

would u ever do another part to the teaching some lessons series 🥹🥹

my lord, it's been so long since i wrote for yuuji but i love him sm to decline this opportunity. so, here you go. some filth for ya <3

🌸a lesson in jealousy!

synopsis: yuuji itadori knew he was lucky, knew that he was dating the most loyal girl ever, knew that his brother and you were nothing more than best-friends — knew all of that and yet, couldn't help but clench his jaw and fuck you into that ruined couch — jealous. pairing: afab!reader x itadori yuuji [aged up.] wc: 5.2k cw: MDNI. MDNI. MDNI. nsfw includes: jealousy, penetration, edging and denial, rough smex, pussydrunk!yuuji, slight bimbofication, yuuji's super-strength and stamina, yuuji is insecure, and sukuna is a brat as always. have fun. m.list

yuuji itadori was not a jealous man.

he was a bit dense, a bit too optimistic for his own good, maybe a teensy bit territorial — sure. but jealous? nah.

that was before sukuna made him reconsider his beliefs.

｡･:*˚:✧｡

strike 0.

"yuu, does this dress look good on me?" your voice shook with impatience, eyes sifting over your boyfriend's hunched form as he sat on your couch.

"hm?" the jock looked up from his phone, gaze all but devouring you as you stood before him.

you were beautiful, always were.

no matter when yuuji itadori looked at you, he was blown away like it was his first, like he was a kid on the playground who had just been offered ice-cream on a sweltering, hot day.

he nodded enthusiastically, a broad smile across his lips, "good is an understatement, babe. you look fuckin' amazing."

and he meant it. he always meant it.

"are you sure?" a soft pout fell across your lips, and you turned around as if to display yourself once more, giving him one more chance to take back his claim.

and despite not complaining about your little show, he muttered, "dead sure, babe."

"really? you're sure sure?" you tried again, getting the jock to swallow down his own words.

"yes—" yuuji tried to plead his case, tried to tell you that you were the love of his life even in a trash bag and aluminium foil accessories, but you cut him off.

"—cause 'kuna said it made me look fat."

'kuna.'

"huh?" and though the quarterback knew better than that, his eyebrow twitched at the mention of his brother's name. chucking the uncomfortable itch that crawled at the back of his throat down his stomach, yuuji laughed, "he's stupid, you know that."

"i knoww..." you drawled the word, your soft palms finding purchase against your waist as your unsure gaze tangled against his. you drew closer, till your sweet perfume permeated his figure, "but what if kuna's right..?"

pang!

there it was, that fucking little, fluttering feeling that traveled from yuuji's brains to his biceps, then to his ribs and finally settled somewhere in his lungs. was it annoyance? maybe irritation? or jeal— no. not that.

"i mean—" you huffed, smoothing the dress over your stomach once more as you peered down at him, "be honest with me, yuu. its my first christmas with your family, i wanna make a good impression."

the scar under his eyes twitched wickedly, flexing with the muscles of his cheeks as he put on a stained smile, "you've known them for ages."

"not as your girlfriend. they know me as kuna's best friend and he doesn't exactly have the best... eh, reputation..? yes. reputation." you refuted yet again, and yuuji would have laughed at your persistence to prove him wrong had it not been for that uncomfortable itch in his lungs.

'kuna's best friend.'

a slight tick built up in his jaw, his bones weighing down with your careless words, and breaths a stuttered falsetto.

nonetheless, yuuji extended his muscled arms, pulling you in to softly perch you on his steady lap.

nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck, the man hoped that the embers of anger frolicking about in his irises weren't evident in his voice, "who cares about sukuna? he's a mean fucking asshole."

shit. he could pick up on the slight edge to his tone, he just hoped you couldn't. what would you think of him if you knew the way he was feeling..?

after all, it's not like yuuji was jealous of his own brother or something. obviously not.

"i know." you raked your manicured fingers down his pinkish locks, and yuuji pasted chaste kisses to your exposed skin.

no longer was he the 6'2, hulking quarterback who would whoop someone's ass with one swift punch, but rather the same boy who had grown up with a massive crush on you. the same boy who had stayed up nights upon nights dreaming about the day you'd be his. the same boy who spent years in shadow as sukuna's ditzy younger brother before you liked him back.

but who cares about the past? you were his now, weren't you? and that was enough.

that was enough, right..?

he was knocked out of his sweet bliss when your voice kissed his ears, "i know it's dumb... but i think i'll just return it."

you didn't say the rest of the sentence, but yuuji found himself completing it in his head: 'but i'll just return it... cause sukuna said it didn't look nice.'

fuck sukuna.

｡･:*˚:✧｡

strike 1.

yuuji itadori hated the holidays with his family.

well, no, that was a lie. he hated the holidays this year.

every other year building up to now, yuuji was the first to help choso bring the tree and decorate it, first to help his dad cook and clean, and first to yell at sukuna for being a massive dick even through the holiday spirit.

well... given it was the season of giving, sukuna sure did his part by giving yuuji something — a fucking headache, or heartburn, or pure, unadulterated murderous rage.

point being, yuuji loved the holidays. he just hated how comfortably sukuna sat on the couch while you were sitting on the ground, both of you flipping through the ancient photo albums that choso-nii had insisted to unearth from the attic this morning.

it didn't matter that he was sitting next to you, it didn't matter when he could practically hear sukuna breathing on his fucking back, muttering jokes only you laughed at.

why was that man so close to you, anyways?

"oh my fucking god," you giggled — unaware of the very devil sitting behind you.

flipping through the pages of the scrapbook choso-nii had made when you all were still far too young, your index ran across the smooth texture of the photos, eyes trying to remember the incidents as if they had happened yesterday.

you pointed to the next photo with a sudden chirp, "and oh— yuu," you smiled, "that's you."

and it sure was yuuji itadori, aged two.

clad in an onesie, the small, pink-haired toddler was sitting next to you in the picture. you were playing with blocks, and when the picture was taken — yuuji had effectively knocked the tower of blocks over. you were crying next to him, blubbering with teary eyes and reddened nose while yuuji just gawked at you like a fool.

"that's me..." yuuji found heat run to the apples of his cheek, "yeah. sorry about that—"

"—knocking my blocks over?" you laughed, and yuuji almost considered building a time machine to go back in time and not knocking those blocks over.

you patted his thigh softly, "don't worry about it yuu, i forgive you."

"still don't understand what dad's fascination was with taking photos at awkward times." choso quipped from his spot next to jin in the kitchen. the pale, tattooed man was whisking batter for the cookies as jin was simmering something in a pan. jin itadori laughed at his eldest son's question, "well, it makes for good memories."

"sure does, dad." the three brothers almost replied in unison.

"and this—" you pointed to a photo of you and sukuna covered in mud, smiling at the camera with broken teeth and scrunched noses.

you looked over your shoulder, meeting the delinquent's eyes, "we got yelled so bad for this one, kuna."

"i remember that too." yuuji's dad piped up from the kitchen, stirring the pot with a rambunctious laugh, "i mean, i was there."

"still think it was an over-exaggeration." sukuna huffed, cracking his knuckles as he peered at the photos from over your shoulder, "we just ate some mud, what's the big deal? i mean— i turned out fine."

"hardly." yuuji muttered.

"what was that, brat?" sukuna cocked at eyebrow from where he sat on the couch, "talking 'bout yourself?"

yuuji found himself pressing his lips in a straight line, an unbroken resolve in the cresses of his face, "there's a reason nobody likes you, y'know?"

"your girlfriend does."

"hey—" you turned around to smack sukuna on his knee, even though a laugh had escaped past your lips, "shut up, kuna."

yuuji felt his nails biting into his palms with the force he fisted his hand with.

sukuna raised an eyebrow at his younger brother's reaction, stifling in a hearty, annoying laugh. "what? jealous, brat?"

jealous? obviously not.

it's just some unknown red, hot feeling that ran it's way across yuuji's body and charred it whole — it wasn't jealousy.

yuuji itadori didn't get jealous.

｡･:*˚:✧｡

strike 02.

"this is a terrible idea." you huffed, eyes strained against your green-haired-upto-no-good roommate. you repeated, "te-rri-ble."

"shut up," maki scoffed, a roll of her eyes following soon after, "it sounds fun."

what sounds fun, you may ask?

you see at a small friends-only gathering at your shared apartment, your flatmate — maki zenin had suggested with all her mighty braincell prowess, "hey, why don't we see who knows you more? your boyfriend, or your bestfriend?"

everyone had agreed — from maki's crush kugisaki to the black-haired ball of emo-ness, fushiguro. everyone had accepted except for you.

"absolutely not." you repeated yet again, and maki zenin scowled, "what a fuckin' killjoy— it's totally gonna be fun."

knowing maki, you knew she was doing this purely for her entertainment and nobody else's. this game would be fun for her.

you were sure there was something in the zenin's blood that made others suffering utterly amusing to them.

"i mean i'm down for it." yuuji shrugged, an unwavering faith in his voice, "i know i'm not losing."

"yeah?" sukuna rested the tip of his tongue against his sharp canines, almost laughing at yuuji's audacity to think that highly of himself. "ya think you'd win? i've known her 20 years. you even know how to count to 20, dumbass?"

see, despite being older in age, sukuna was definitely not the smartest tool in the shed — and yuuji knew that. so, as an act of self-preservation, yuuji let that comment go without further arguments.

instead, your boyfriend had just smiled at you reassuringly, "we should play, babe. i'm sure it'll be fun."

"yeah, loosen up." sukuna commented soon after, sipping the cheap booze, "it's not like me and yuuji will start a fight over this crap."

"fine." you had given up by the end, leaving the boys with their massive egos and terrible decision-making tendencies. you crossed your arms, vowing an unbreakable oath, "but i swear to god if you two get in a fight after this, i'm not gonna break it up."

that was five minutes ago, and now—

"—are you fuckin' stupid?" sukuna's eyes narrowed at his brother, "she obviously likes the mountains more."

"nah." yuuji retorted, dead sure in his assumptions, "beaches."

"mountains—"

"—yuuji's right." you dismissed the argument with a simple flick of your fingers, and yuuji grinned at the outcome: 3-4.

"next question." maki clapped her hands to draw attention to herself, "oh, this one should be fairly easy." she paused for dramatic effect, putting on a showbiz voice, "how many guys has she kissed?"

"three." yuuji simply answered, and sukuna waved him off with a cashmere, all-knowing grin, "nuh uh, five."

yuuji's eyebrows bunched, his eyes resting on you with a question: five?

"it's three." yuuji stated definitively and you shook your head, "kuna's right. the score is now 4-4."

you nodded as to acknowledge sukuna's nonchalant victory, and you swore your boyfriend's jaw slacked open at your words.

wobbling words and ticking jaw, yuuji itadori looked at you as if you had betrayed him, "w-wait, but i only know three."

"i've only seriously made out with three guys." you answered honestly, "rest two were when i was drunk, i don't even remember them."

"wait... why didn't you tell me that, though?" yuuji tried asking but already had the answer on the tip of your tongue.

"i was drunk, babe." you gave a half-impressed nod to sukuna, "I'm surprised sukuna remembers them too, given how shit-faced drunk he got each time."

"but—" your boyfriend tried yet again but the conversation had moved along.

now, sukuna was piping up about something that had happened when you and him were shit-faced drunk, and you and maki were laughing at his recounts.

heck, even fushiguro had cracked a smile. what the fuck?!

"holy shit." you face-palmed, laughing hysterically at whatever drunken adventure you two had embarked on without yuuji. you tried catching your breath, clutching your chest with your manicured hands, "a-and there was this buff dude— hah, ohmygod—"

sukuna added onto your story, nodding— and yuuji felt his blood boil.

yuuji itadori knew nothing had ever happened between you and sukuna. your drunken nights were just tomfoolery, your jokes were just jokes but... what if?

what if sukuna was one of the men you had kissed when drunk? what if he was more than that? what if yuuji was just a mistake and sukuna was the man for you?

what if..?

yuuji's ear's buzzed, blood roared through his veins and his bones rattled in a cursed rhythm as his erratic gaze shifted from one person to the next.

everyone was laughing.

yuuji itadori felt their — your laughter pierce through his skin and lodge square in his heart. for a minute, it felt as if the entire world was in on a massive joke and he was the only one left out.

at last, yuuji's gaze landed on sukuna. the hulking delinquent had a self-satisfying smile on his face as he yapped on and on and on—

a pulsating pain built in yuuji's palm as he felt himself squeezing down on something. his biceps bulged, a vein almost popping in his neck from the force he was exerting.

what if yuuji itadori was the butt of the joke he was being left out of?

"—yuuji?" you put a soft hand on his bicep, pulling him out of his entranced state. concern wrapped around your words like ivy, your laughter completely wiped off, "are you okay..?"

"y-huh?" the jock blinked once, twice, then once more before he could even process what you just said.

the roar in his ears subsided, the warmth in his face dissipated, and it was as the anger slipped off of his tired muscles did yuuji itadori realize that he had broke the arm of your couch with his mindless grasp.

"yuuji—" kugisaki heaved, panicked. and megumi stood up soon after, his words jittery, "itadori..?"

everyone was staring.

"shit—" his eyes travelled to the wooden splinters that had crumbled under the expanse of his muscles. frenzied eyes running from his palms to your scared face, he almost lost his voice, "s-sorry. 'm so sorry... i dunno— how."

you knelt down, nimble hands coming to take his larger palm in yours gently, "yuu—" panic overwrote every syllable of yours but your eyes stayed trained against his, "are you okay?! should we—"

"—no." yuuji pulled his hand back to his chest, shaking his head, "i'm fine... i'm okay. no."

everyone was fucking staring.

standing up, the jock almost felt too light-headed to even process what pain he was in. all he knew was that he needed to get away, and get away soon.

"i—" his mouth grew drier, words dying at the tip of his tongue as everyone's eyes bore onto his frame.

turning around, scrambling for the exit, the quarterback barely managed out an excuse, "i'll pay for that later."

before yuuji slammed the door behind himself, he heard sukuna's voice boom behind him, "yuuji, slow down."

but even the slightest sound of his brother's voice — no matter concern or mockery were enough to set his cells ablaze with a nerve-racking thunder.

yuuji itadori was probably jealous, and jealousy was unbecoming of a man.

｡･:*˚:✧｡

strike 03.

months had passed by, the arm of the couch changed and the incident had been long forgotten.

yuuji itadori had even successfully got you to belief that for a second that night, his 'super-strength' had activated. heck, he had even claimed to be the main character of a shounen manga in some parallel universe, and reasoned that perhaps he was fighting someone somewhere that night.

stupid man — that's what you had called him and yet the way you had doted on him for the next couple of days had turned any of his guilt on wrecking the furniture turn to an unsung victory.

what's a piece of furniture compared to his girlfriend, anyways?

you had sat yourself down on his lap, facing him as your trapped his cheeks between your palms as you had sighed, "i'm sorry i didn't tell you about those two extra kisses. i was just, um kinda scared if you'd judge me for drunk-kissing random guys."

"you drunk-kissed me too."

you winced, half-nodding at his words, "fair point."

but instead of judgement or scrutiny, yuuji had given you a broad smile, reassuring you with a soft kiss to your palm, "why would i ever judge you over that, babe? i'm just happy you told me now."

and that had been that. the incident had passed. it had been months. the couch had been repaired. you two had talked it out. that bitter feeling inside of yuuji had died. it had died.

so, why was it coming back with vengeance tonight?

he mumbled your name into the thick air, trying to call out to you over the beats and hollers, trying to talk sense into you.

you were at some house-party that a friend of a friend of sukuna's was hosting. the delinquent had dragged you two with him, and despite not knowing the dude, you had drank his booze and were now swaying to the beats on his darkened dance floor.

neon lights flashed over you in the sea of unknown bodies as yuuji wrapped his beefy arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

the pink-haired jock dropped his face in the crook of your neck, his mouth nipping softly against your pulse-points, "you should drink some water."

"mhmm, don' care." you groaned, turning around to wrap your arms around his neck as he looked down at you. waves of lust rocked your body and yuuji felt like you'd devoured him whole on that very dance-floor had it not been for the charges of public indecency. your words slurred deliciously, "i don' wan' water— wan' you."

yuuji laughed at your words, bringing his head down again to gently talk you through it, "but you do need water, babe. wait here and i'll get you some, okay?"

and despite your pout, yuuji patted your arm and let go of you with a soft kiss to your cheek.

the neon flashed in his irises, and his hazy vision couldn't quite keep up with your dancing figure as he eventually disappeared within the throbbing crowd. looking back once, twice, he had lost track of you completely by the time he reached the kitchen.

"water?" yuuji found himself confusedly asking another person for where the water was. "yeah, one bottle's enough. thanks, man."

yuuji navigated the stirring crowds with chants of 'sorry's and 'excuse me's lined up, with his eyes searching for your figure.

he wasn't worried about leaving you alone drunk. at worst, you'd be dancing. at best, you'd be standing still.

oh... except, he forgot to consider sukuna in his worst case scenario.

there he was — that fucking delinquent — leaning down to whisper something in your ear as you barked out a drunken laugh with a rough swat to sukuna's tattooed arm.

the plastic in yuuji's palm felt awfully easy to crush, but yuuji itadori decided to keep his cool.

heavy footsteps rung against the floor as he stepped towards you, scanning your figure. there was a glimmering glass in your hands, a matching one in sukuna's.

was sukuna getting you more drunk? why, that fucking asshole—

shit. calm down, yuuji.

"—hey." yuuji grit his teeth, giving sukuna a half-baked smile, "i don't think she should be drinking more."

"ah," the older itadori rolled his eyes, waving his younger brother off as if he was a waft of air, "calm down, it's just one more glass."

but yuuji pulled the glass from your nimble grasp, even when you pouted and reached out for it again. he swiftly replaced it with the bottle he had brought, "no, have this."

the jock never once let his gaze drop from his brother as he grunted, "i think it's enough. she has had more than enough."

"calm down, brat." sukuna repeated, giving his own glass in your hand, "she's a tough girl, she can handle herself."

yuuji itadori was sure a vein had popped somewhere in his neck as he found stepping towards his brother, grin feral, "i think you should stay out of my girlfriend's business."

"your girl—girlfriend..? hah—" sukuna laughed, and yuuji almost considered homicide to not be half-bad, "what's so fuckin' funny?"

"nothing." sukuna shook his head, still laughing about whatever delirious shit he was on about. the tatted man sucked in a breath, "it's just... if you two break up, i'll still be her best friend, and you'd..." he hummed, "you'd be nothing to her."

whatever happened after that is a blur to yuuji itadori.

all he knew is that he hadn't hit sukuna — or someone else, for that matter. he had simply clutched your wrist in his, dragging you out of that godforsaken party even as you called out his name every now and then. he had driven his car through the learned pathways in the dead of the night and now, he was jamming your key through your apartment door to let you both in.

creaaak!

the heavy door opened and yuuji pushed it to let himself in, still holding your hand in his wrist.

"yuu—" you mumbled, still dazed from all the alcohol as you trailed behind him and into your living room.

ignoring you, the jock disappeared into your kitchen after putting your purse down on the coffee table.

as you sat on the couch, trying to undo the heels off of your aching feet, he showed up with a glass of water.

you looked up at him, the whites of your eyes tinted the slightest red, "what..?"

"drink some water." yuuji commanded coldly, and your brows furrowed at his demeanor, "are you... mad at me?"

"no. don't worry." sighing, the jock bent down and undid the clasp easily. his eyes didn't meet yours as he stood back up and gave you another instruction, "just go to sleep after this, okay? you need some rest."

"but yuuji..." you pouted, drawing your palm to his wrist to stop him, "wh-where are you going..?"

maybe if you had been in a better state of mind, you would have noticed your boyfriend's clenched jaw and fisted hands, you would have heard the restraint in his words as he heaved out, "back home."

"but why?"

why?

yuuji itadori still did not meet your eyes, "I'm just not in the mood to hang out."

"but—"

"listen," the jock finally met your gaze, a silent warning imprinted onto his irises, "if i stay here, i'll end up doing something i regret."

"like..?" you still looked up at him oh-so-clueless, and yuuji couldn't help but crack open a strained smile, repeating, "like?"

like this.

"fu-fuck fuu k—" your breath hitched, eyes glossing over as it became harder and harder to breathe. your voice was muffled against the couch, the fabric eating away at whatever semblance of sanity you possessed.

yuuji splayed his palm on the back of your head, pushing it down and down into the fabric with reckless abandon as he fucked into your sopping cunt.

"tell me—" the jock grunted, using another hand to smack the delicious curve of your ass, "what is it hah about that bastard — 'kuna''", he heaved, mocking you, " that I don't fuckin' have, huh?"

"yuuji—" you tried but your mouth felt so awfully dry, your moans lodged in your throat helplessly as your boyfriend pressed your face further into the couch. trying again, you panted, "ple-please yuu—"

smack!

"hngh— fuck mmph—" your body jolted in retort as yuuji planted another smack to your ass, immediately soothing the skin with his broad hands.

your eyes burned, cheek rubbing against the couch fabric so helplessly as you tried clawing at whatever you could find.

manicured fingers dug into the the couch, and yuuji chased your actions mercilessly with deep plunges inside your quivering cunt. he growled out, "answer my fucking question."

but you were rendered useless.

your vision was growing hazy, air supply cut off from the way your face was pressed up and into the sofa. despite the sizzling hot sting against your ass, and the stretch of your thighs, a gnawing feeling churned in the pit of your stomach.

"ca-can't breathe—" your rasped, your manicured nails still digging into the soft surface as you tried to shake your boyfriend off of yourself with helpless trembles, "g-get off—"

"can't breathe?" yuuji repeated, using one broad hand to catch both of your wrists and pin them behind your back. vision misty, and light-headed — suddenly, you were pulled up into something hard.

despite his harsh actions, despite the relentless rolls of his cock into your gummy walls, yuuji husked behind you, "better?"

and you nodded, too cockdrunk to stop the man from using you like his personal fleshlight.

your boyfriend's heat radiated out of his chest and seeped into your aching bones as his cock still rammed into your heat. you finally breathed, inhaling deep breaths before the smacks of his pelvis against yours made you shake yet again.

your writhed your wrists, fighting against his phantom-like grip on you as your muscles spasmed and contracted, "y-yuu 'mgonna shit— 'm— cummin cummin'—"

"huh?" the jock gasped as your snug cunt pulsated around his rigid member. each little spasm of your walls against his ridged veins made the jock plow into you harder, "hah, cumming?"

you nodded, shivering and straining against his iron grip, "so close 'm so— close."

and then he stopped.

yuuji itadori pulled out of your snug cunt in one swift snap of his hips, leaving your syrupy folds clenching around thick air — so easily abandoned.

you turned your head back, jaw sagging open in a helpless whimper as tears brimmed your eyes, "wh-why'd you sto-p..?"

but the younger itadori was in the mood for no games tonight. flipping you onto your back, the man threw you onto the couch as if you weighed nothing to him.

"yuu—" your breath trembled as you tried supporting your jelly-like body on your elbows, staring up at the man who held held no remorse in his eyes for the way he was destroying you.

his hair was matted, locks clinging onto his forehead as drops of dew clung onto his skin. his skin was dusted pink, as his heavy cockhead smeared drops of his pre against his thigh.

"you know..." yuuji husked, tugging his mushroom tip lazily as he stared down at your shaky physique, "you still haven't answered my question."

"wh-what question?"

and yuuji cocked an eyebrow despite knowing better than to blame you for how mush-brained state.

the man guided his leaky tip to your hooded clit, massaging the thundering nub in slow circles, "what is it about kuna that's so much better than me, huh?"

"i d-dunno... what're y-you saying..?" you bit your wobbling lips, blinking your eyes so slow as he kept nudging his tip against your sensitive bud, "he's... he's just my best-frie..nd oh—"

"awh, he's your best-f-friend?" yuuji repeated, now tracing his tip in skilled eight shapes, "that's it..?"

and despite having half a mind, you nodded desperately, "y-yeah, yuu."

"tch," the man traced his tip downwards, collecting your honeydew on his hardened cock before plunging within your heat in one swift motion.

you gasped, toes curling as the younger itadori found himself ramming a bruising pace into your sopping entrance, "fu-fuck s-slower—"

but yuuji itadori was in no mood for mercy. bringing up a sharp hand to your face, he pulled your cheeks into a forced pout, "if he's just your best-f-friend, hah why is that fucker always just— hovering around?"

"i—" you tried to speak but your words were a wet gargle, constricting within your throat at his harsh actions, "mm—"

"can't speak?" and somehow your frenzied nod just made itadori clutch your skin in his grasp tighter — till he was sure he was indenting your face with his fingerprints.

"yuuji—" you groaned, words still so hard to come-by as he kept fucking you dumber and dumber. but at this point, yuuji didn't even bother knowing your answer, instead pussydrunkenly rambling on, "a-and the fuck is he so cocky about? you're my girlfriend, right? arent'cha?"

you nodded, and he pressed a sickly sweet kiss to your forced pout, "attagirl."

but he continued rambling, his words forgone and stupid, "and fuck does he think? that just— just cause he knows you longer, he—" yuuji nodded at you, "right? i've known you the sa-same amount of time auh— shiiit."

and despite not understanding whatever shit yuuji was spewing from his parched mouth, you nodded in agreement.

"alright," the man kissed your jaw in a wicked hurry, "you don't—" a sudden, deep shove within your velvety hole made the jock stutter out, "y-you love me right... you don't love him."

and he let go of your aching jaw, kissing up the cheeks as if to soothe your skin, "say you love me. say it."

"i—" your eyes rolled back as his persistent shoves hit right in the bullseye — marking your womb with his copious pre. despite your scratchy throat, and bruising thighs, you moaned out, "i- only love you, yu-uji. ohmygod—"

"—good." yuuji groaned, feeling his length twitch in anticipation as the muscles of his thighs tightened, "cause i'll kill him— I'll kill him if he tries to take you from me."

and with that warning, the jock released thick ropes of cum into your saccharine pussy. the liquid filled you to the brim, a drop or two beading out of your cunt and sliding down his length helplessly.

"sh—shit." yuuji collapsed on top of you, breathing in your scent and licking at your sweat-soaked skin like a man crazed, "i—i'll kill him if he... if he takes you away."

"o-okay."

"'m serious."

"hm." you raked your trembling hands over his sweaty locks, "'sokay, i'm yours."

"good."

creaak!

"oh mY GOD—" your roommate practically yelled, "WHY ARE YOU BUTT-NAKED IN MY LIVING ROOM, ITADORI?!"

managing some resemblance of coherence, yuuji snapped his head back to look at the green-haired athlete standing shell-shocked at the door, "S-SENPAI?!"

"PUT SOME CLOTHES ON!" and with that the zenin family member pulled the door shut.

"i—" yuuji snapped his head back at you — you, who had just been sobered up from maki's yelling, "we should probably... p-put some clothes on."

the jock nodded, "probably."

well, you could always continue the conversation in your own room. after all, yuuji itadori did have inhumane stamina.

a/n: i did not suffer through days of creative block just to give up on this bitch. here, have something i guess..? idek if this was any good omg but i hope it doesn't suck too much :// this idea was suggested by @peekawoocc literally ages back, so, due credits to her! tagging: @peekawoocc @9rvm @iminlovewqr0w @jellibean2018 @kingofthe-egirls [took me so long ahaha :/] m.list

#jjk #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #yuuji itadori smut #yuuji smut #itadori smut #yuuji x reader smut #itadori yuuji smut #yuji smut #itadori yuji smut #jjk x reader smut

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leahwllmsn · 14 days ago

Text

toxic till the end

alexia putellas x reader

word count: 3.3k

tw: toxic relationships

You and Alexia are bad news for each other, but you don’t want anyone else.

It’s another day after yet another fight. You already know what’s going to happen next—it’s a routine so ingrained in your life that there’s no room for uncertainty. Alexia will show up at your door, begging for forgiveness, and you will welcome her with open arms.

This time though, you tell yourself it’s going to be different. You’re going to put a stop to this whole thing.

You’re letting go of Alexia for good.

It’s been years of back and forth and you’re tired.

You’re on your couch, clutching your phone, battling with yourself about being the first one to text. To break the routine you and Alexia have perfected means breaking this cycle once and for all.

I meant what I said last night. it’s over. we’re done.

Alexia’s response comes not a minute later. How fast she responds gives you more satisfaction than you admit. Her response however… It left an uncomfortable feeling in your chest.

A: if that is what you want

No, that’s not what you want at all. But it’s what you need. For your sanity.

I want you out of my life. goodbye, ale

—

You met Alexia through a mutual friend. You liked to go out to clubs and bars, something to get your mind off the stress at work. It was a wonder that you hadn’t met Alexia sooner, but you later realized it must be her job as a football superstar that prevented her from partying every week like you.

When Alexia came up to you, her chin held high, a smirk permanently etched on her face, you knew she was nothing but trouble. It was the way she presented herself, so full of herself—as if she could get anything she wanted, that got you hooked. You loved a confident woman, and Alexia was the most confident woman on earth.

“Hola.” Alexia was the first to greet you, observing you with a curious look. You took her outstretched hand, and you couldn’t help but appreciate how… strong her grip was. Yeah.

“Hi.”

“I’m Alexia,” she gave you a smile, one that girls must fawn over. Before you could respond, she continued, “And you must be… the prettiest girl in this room.”

Your immediate response was to roll your eyes, but your heart was a mess. You couldn’t believe that something so corny had your cheeks blush a deep shade of red.

“Got anything better than that?” you replied calmly, taking a sip of your drink to hide the way your lips wanted to form a smile.

Alexia hummed in thought, leaning closer to you until her mouth was inches away from your ear. You could smell her perfume now—it was something from Le Labo, the woody one that people liked so much.

“If I could rearrange the alphabet, I’d put ‘u’ and ‘i’ together.”

It was so bad that it genuinely worked on you. You let out a laugh so loud, ten pairs of eyes turned in your direction. But you didn’t care because Alexia was looking at you with that glimmer in her eyes.

You couldn’t have known what was to come.

—

Despite your wariness about Alexia, you gave her a chance. You gave her multiple chances.

A few months in and you were inseparable.

The most shocking thing about Alexia was that she was the most loyal person ever. You thought that she was, well, a playgirl. It was the stereotype that came with being a footballer and how charming she was—she could get anyone she wanted.

But all she wanted was you.

It was a huge boost to your ego, you must admit.

Maybe that was why you decided to test the waters. To see whether Alexia really loved you or she was just playing you.

(Looking back, you realized you were the one who started this whole game.)

You didn’t watch football, you had zero interest in it. Alexia loved that she got to be the one to introduce football to you.

So when you begged Alexia to let you meet her teammates, claiming you found a new interest on the team, she was surprised.

The first thing you did in that locker room was introduce yourself to Patri. Sexy, funny, tattooed Patri, who flirted back the moment you bat your eyelashes at her. To you, it was exhilarating the way Alexia grabbed your wrist and pushed you to the nearest storage closet.

Maybe that was why you loved to push her buttons so much.

But that wasn’t to say that Alexia didn’t do the same. She was so much more intense, you learned. Maybe even borderline toxic, but you didn’t think too much about it.

You hadn’t been partying every week like you usually would, spending each night with Alexia instead, living in that lovesick bubble. But one night you were bored, and you wanted to go. Alexia had a game tomorrow so you knew she would be staying at home.

“Where are you going, amor?”

You saw Alexia’s reflection in the mirror as you were putting on the final touches of your make-up. You were wearing a dress so tight that it left no room for imagination. “I’m going to Manuelas, baby.”

“What? No, you are not.” Alexia stated.

You turned around and gave her a questioning look. “I am? Can’t you see that I’m ready?”

“Well, I do not want you to go,” Alexia crossed her arms over her chest, a frown on her face. “Especially with that dress.”

You rolled your eyes at her, scoffing. “I think I can do whatever I want, Ale. I’m going out.”

“So you are just going to leave me here alone? I need you tonight, amor.”

The way her tone changed almost gave you whiplash. She was no longer commanding; she was pleading, her voice trembled as if you leaving to a club would be the worst thing to ever happen to her.

“Please, cariño?”

You knew the moment she gave you her best puppy-dog eyes, your resolve was crumbling. You’d agree to whatever she wanted, just like always.

“You can come with me,” you suggested, although you knew she couldn’t.

“You know I have a game tomorrow.” Alexia stepped closer to you, wrapping her arms around your waist and pressing gentle kisses along your exposed neck. “Let’s have a night in. I’m going to give you a better night than your friends could anyway, you know that.”

So you stayed.

You didn’t care when it happened again the week after, letting Alexia undress you was much better than any nightclubs anyway.

When your friends complained that they hadn’t seen you in so long, you made an effort to meet up with them for lunch, but that was cut short when Alexia called and demanded you to come home because she was done with training.

Alexia was possessive, you knew that. You didn’t need your friends to hold an ‘intervention’ for you because they thought Alexia was getting too much.

You loved her possessive attitude. So much so that you intentionally flirted with waitresses and strangers just to see her jealous streak.

You didn’t think anything could break your relationship. You loved each other.

One day, Alexia went too far and you got proven wrong.

You were tired from work, and you wanted nothing more than to get under the covers and sleep. Alexia had other plans. She was wearing a suit, her hair slicked back in a neat ponytail. She looked good.

“Where are you going, Ale?”

“Oh, hey, mi amor,” Alexia pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, pulling back when you wanted more. Alexia always made you feel better. “I’m going to be late. I have dinner with old friends.”

You raised an eyebrow at that. Alexia never mentioned any dinner with old friends. “Who?”

“Just… some friends I haven’t met in a long time.” You let her go without any more questions because you were seconds away from falling asleep.

When you woke up and found Alexia asleep on the couch instead, you thought nothing of it, going through with your morning routine. When Alexia stretched lazily, flashing you a smile, you returned it without a second thought. But then you caught the lipstick stain on her white collar, a lipstick shade that you would never wear… That was when you started screaming at her.

“I can’t believe you!” “What did I do?”

“What did you do?” You pointed towards the red stain on her collar. “Do you think I’m blind? Stupid? Both?!”

“Oh no no, amor,” Alexia immediately stood up, hands raised defensively as she faced you. “This is not what it looks like. You are misunderstanding!”

“You’re crazy, Alexia. Who’s fucking lipstick is that?!”

“No one’s! You are being paranoid.”

“Stop lying to me!”

“Amor, I would never lie to you, you know that,” Alexia huffed. She had the nerve to shake her in disappointment. “In fact, I am insulted that you think I would do such a thing!”

“Oh yeah? How’s this!” You unclasped the necklace Alexia got you as a gift and threw it at her face. “Fuck you!”

“Amor! That hurts!”

“Fucking cheater!”

“I didn’t kiss her! She kissed me!”

The amount of anger coursing through your veins was a new feeling. You let out a shout before stomping your way out of the apartment. You looked back at your girlfriend, still with that stupid, glaring red stain on her shirt. “I never want to see your face again, Alexia!”

You slammed the front door and left.

That was the start of the cycle.

—

Alexia showed up at your apartment the next day, flowers in hand, eyes swollen from when she cried too much—a rare sight for her. You felt your heart soften at the sight.

“Hola,” Alexia rasped out. “Can I come in?”

Against your better judgement you let her in. You allowed her to explain her side of things, how she claimed that yes, her ex kissed her, but Alexia didn’t return the gesture. You didn’t entirely believe her but you pulled her into your arms anyway.

Alexia repeated how sorry she was over and over again, she told you that she loved you, and she would never intentionally hurt you.

“I know, Ale,” you kissed the top of her head, your voice softer now compared to the shouts yesterday. Alexia was laying on top of you, her head nestled in the crook of your neck—usually you would be the one in Alexia’s arms, this change felt nice too.

“Do you still love me?”

You didn’t hesitate when you replied. “More than anything.”

Alexia promised that there wouldn’t be anymore fights after that. You didn’t really believe her, and you didn’t think she believed herself either, but you agreed nonetheless.

It was true, you and Alexia went back to the honeymoon phase and didn’t fight at all.

The calm lasted for a few weeks. Barcelona won something, you couldn’t remember, but it was huge. So it called for a celebration.

Alexia, being the captain, was busy being the center of attention. She loved it when people worshipped her, you knew that, so you let her be. You were alone at the bar when someone approached you, offering to buy you a drink. It was Jana—you remembered her from before you met Alexia, through mutual friends. She was definitely your type, but she was five years younger than you and that put you off.

“You do know I’m dating your captain,” you spoke directly in her ear, the music making it harder to hear.

“I’m just being friendly,” Jana shrugged, although the glint in her eyes revealed otherwise.

You took the drink she offered and stayed close to her—too close, because the next thing you knew Alexia was in front of you, a dangerous smile on her lips.

“We are going home.”

“It’s early!” you laughed, passing your drink to your girlfriend. “Have some fun, Ale. Don’t be so uptight.”

Jana giggled and Alexia’s frown deepened. You turned towards the younger brunette and grabbed her arms. “Jana and I are going to dance!”

You left Alexia speechless as you made your way to the dance floor. You could feel her eyes on you the whole time, but all you did was something innocent. There was nothing conspicuous about dancing with a friend. You didn’t kiss her like Alexia kissed someone else.

You didn’t even last five minutes, before Alexia dragged you away and forced you into her car.

You pouted at her the whole ride home. “You are being so ridiculous, Alexia. I was just dancing with a friend.”

“No, you were slutting it up with a friend. There is a difference.”

You were so offended by her words that you demanded she pull over and let you out.

“I am not doing that.”

“Pull over.”

“No.”

“Alexia, pull over or I’ll open this car door and step right into oncoming traffic.”

“Estás loca!” Alexia granted your wish and you were met with the cold, night air as you stepped out of her car. “How are you going to get home now?”

You answered her by slamming her precious car door and flipping a middle finger in her direction. Thankfully it wasn’t that far from your place, you could walk for fifteen minutes. It was fine.

You didn’t get much sleep that night, whether it was because of the anger you were feeling or the anticipation of seeing Alexia the next day. But by morning, all you felt was disappointment, because Alexia didn’t show up. You waited and waited, until it was night time and you decided to send her a text.

do you even care about me?

Alexia showed up five minutes later even though her apartment was almost half an hour away. This time, instead of flowers, she brought your favourite chocolates. Ten boxes of them.

“I am sorry, guapa.” You were sitting on Alexia’s lap, your hands playing with the baby hair on the back of her neck. “I was just jealous because I love you so much.”

“I’m sorry too,” you murmured. “I was the one to provoke you.”

Alexia nodded, pecking your lips. “Sí. You provoked me.”

“You don’t have to be jealous, you know,” you assured her. “I’m all yours, Alexia.”

She grinned at you, pulling you even closer until your bodies were flushed against one another. “That’s good to hear, amor. No one can love you like I do.”

—

You stayed with Alexia despite it all. Despite the monthly–if not, weekly–fights, despite the red flags waving at you every time you recalled something Alexia did to your friends.

You didn’t care about any of it as long as you have Alexia.

Your friends stopped trying to meddle. Once, they decided to give Alexia a piece of their minds and that made Alexia ignore you for a few days. So in turn, you gave your friends a piece of your mind and told them to back the fuck off. You were a big girl; you knew what you were getting yourself into.

It went on for years. You and Alexia continued the routine: someone says something they didn’t mean—fight—make up—someone gets jealous—fight again—make up, and so on.

It was incredible how much strength you had in you to put up with it. But you loved Alexia, and she loved you back, so it was worth it.

It wasn’t until a fight got so big that it left you both screaming at each other in an empty park in Barcelona at midnight, and suddenly, you felt so suffocated. For the first time ever, you wondered what would happen if both of you just… stopped this whole thing. You wondered then, if you could survive living without Alexia.

“I do not know what you want me to do, Y/N!”

“Well, for one, I would like you to stop flirting with every girl you see. I’m right here!”

“I was not flirting! You just keep on imagining things!”

“Fuck you, Ale!”

“Sí, you have done that many times,” Alexia shrugged casually, her body language telling you she was unbothered by this whole thing. “We can do it again tonight if you want!”

“Fuck! You!”

You turned to leave, but Alexia grabbed your wrist. “Where are you going?”

You yanked your arm free from her grasp. “I’m leaving! It’s over!”

Alexia let out a mocking laugh. “Over?! I do not think so. Come on, amor, do you really think you can live without me?”

Alexia was so sure that you couldn’t. You felt like you wanted to prove to her otherwise.

So you held your chin out and held her gaze. “Yes. I can. I’m leaving you.”

Neither of you said anything for a minute. Alexia silently challenged you to take back your words, but you weren’t going to. You decided that you were strong enough to end things.

“You are lying,” Alexia scoffed. “You cannot leave me.”

You glared at her. You hated that she was undermining you. “Watch me.”

As you turned around once again to leave, Alexia suddenly stepped forward and snaked her arms around your waist, her front pressed against your back. You let her hold you—it was going to be the last time anyway.

“Mi amor,” Alexia’s voice trembled. “You cannot leave me. I do not know how to do this without you. Please don’t go. Te amo. Te amo mucho.”

You held back your tears, not expecting Alexia to sound this vulnerable. You placed your hand on top of hers, hesitating for a brief moment before slowly pulling away.

You were finally free.

—

A week passed by without anything from Alexia. Not a phone call, not a text, no flowers on your doorstep, no unannounced visits to your apartment. You realize that this is the longest you’ve gone without hearing Alexia beg for your forgiveness. Alexia is actually respecting your wishes.

She’s no longer bothering you.

You should feel happy, but all you feel is the opposite. You genuinely feel sick at the thought of having Alexia out of your life.

You want her next to you. You want her near you, right now. You don’t care that all you do is fight, that’s what couples do—Alexia once said.

Your friends think it’s a good thing that you cut things off with Alexia, but you don’t think their opinion matters anyway. They’ve always acted like they know your relationship with Alexia better than you.

To get them to back off though, you agreed on a blind date with someone. Just for one night. One night to see what a “perfect girl” looks like.

Her name is Jennifer. What a bland name.

She likes to play tennis and does horse riding. Football is better.

She has a British accent because she grew up in London. Alexia’s accent is much better, way sexier.

An hour in and you could tell that there is nothing wrong with her despite your best efforts at trying to find the worst in everything. But she’s not Alexia.

No one will ever come close.

Before Jennifer gets the chance to order dessert, you fake a stomach ache and leaves.

You walk aimlessly, but deep down you know you have one destination in mind.

It’s been years of back and forth. Yes, you’re tired, but you also crave it.

You crave her.

No matter how much Alexia breaks your heart, you know she’s the only one who can fix it—albeit, not perfectly, she can still patch it up nonetheless.

You don’t mind it.

If being with Alexia means having a bruised heart full of bandages, you’ll take it.

“Hola, guapa. I missed you.”

#woso #woso x reader #woso fanfics #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas imagine #woso community

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wroteclassicaly · 6 months ago

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Summary: During your shift you overhear a conversation that kind of sends you spiraling.

Warnings: Language, angst, self-esteem issues, hurt with MAJOR comfort, and protective Steve.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Female Reader

Wordcount: 1,924

A/N: Just a little something, cause’ I’m on my period and feeling it…

You aren’t acting like your usual self - zero pep in your step, no smiles from anything or for anyone. Steve doesn’t expect that from you all of the time, but he can sense something is majorly wrong. You simply give him a whispered hey as you climb into the beemer’s passenger, buckling your seatbelt and lowering your gaze to the small wallet you’d brought with you today. It’s when he leans across the console, leather creaking under his movements, to kiss you - that he is for surely locked in on something being up with you. You’re pulling yourself away from his lips before they can even touch your cheek.

At the start of your relationship, Steve was always doing checklists, to see if you were unnerved about, even the smallest of things (which never had anything to do with him, half the time, as he found out). He tried to go over what he could’ve done wrong, how he needed to fix that. But as the trust with the new stage of your relationship grew, the romance had cemented itself - Steve felt like he had to do this less and less with you. You were a team - secure and honest.

You, however, are caught into the expanse of your head, strangled by those vines that are always undoing themselves from their silence to torment you. Copious, self-negative, berating thoughts that are meant to tear you apart. You manage to see Steve frown in your peripheral, which makes your lips part in an attempt to start your explanation. He’s more than ready to receive.

“Hey, Harrington. You have a few minutes?”

That same sugary, sickly sweet voice from minutes prior. You and your boyfriend both look in time to see her blond hair lean into the window, arms propped, pink lined lips speaking, bangles accentuated on her thin wrists, and the overpowering scent of her fruity perfume. Your chest burns with the nerve of her, throat watering with unshed tears — your body feeling as if it’s slipped a flight of stairs for everyone to witness, see your smoldering humiliation as it crackles across your chest. Old Steve might be cocky, might even be rude. But your best-friend turned boyfriend - he is no longer that way.

“What’s up? Everything okay?” He’s a little hesitant, his focus coming back onto you. His knee juts from his foot bouncing on the floor, eager to leave her over bearing interjection into your conversation. He’s pissed at her and her friend standing idly nearby, as you begin to shut down what you were about to open up to him about.

Her friend giggles from beside her and you audibly swallow, using your pinky to play with the newest charm Steve had added to your bracelet (a little baseball glove, because you’re always ‘catching his heart’). It’s your tell-tale nervous sign, he’s aware. The girl in the window starts talking again before he can say anything. She shows off neon pink talons for nails, pearly whites grinning at Steve. “I just got these done about a half an hour ago. And something is wrong with my car, so I obviously need to pop the hood, but I don’t want to ruin them. Like, you know what I mean?”

The eye roll that leaves you, all emotions aside, Steve is amused by. He reaches for your hand, and you let him squeeze. “Do you mind, baby? I’ll just pop the hood and they can call someone if it needs something else done.”

This makes you feel a little better, the girl having to hide her displeasure underneath her smile, which turns into a smirk as Steve exits the car and follows them to her convertible. She makes a show in her tight tube top and jean shorts, not getting to the hood immediately. You only imagine what they’re saying to Steve. But you do remember what they’ve just said about you.

“I mean, he picks her up daily and I don’t even think she offers him gas money.”

You’d stopped organizing the front candy counter to lean around and listen in. Steve picks you up everyday, never asking for anything return - even if you always offer. They have to mean you, right? Your breath had started quickening, focus wavering. The rush of burgundy is within your sights as he pulls up storefront, shades on, head tilted back, arm out the window with a cigarette in hand.

“He’s dating her though, so why would she?”

“Please. He needs to be asked if he is. I don’t buy it, at all. I mean, Nancy Wheeler was a goody two shoes, but at least she was pretty. Buckley is a fucking motor mouth, but she’s also okay.”

Former insecurities when you got together. Even as a friend as you crushed on him, these thoughts had plagued you. You were heated, body light.

“He never dated Buckley.”

A deep sigh. “Obviously, but he clung to her like a puppy. He’s downgraded with this one. She’s been hanging on him for years and I don’t know if he warrants it or just tolerates it.”

Don’t make any noise, don’t say a word. You should stop listening, say something. All things that you didn’t do, just kept listening to them dump on you.

“She’s the real reason Harrington struck out all the time. WHO the fuck wants to date someone that allows a loser like that to be attached to their hip non-stop? I mean, is it a kind, charitable thing to do? Sure. But he needs to draw a line between the good and the bad, babe.”

Your dress had felt to tight on your body - one you wore to surprise Steve today. Excited to be with him for the weekend, casting aside conflicting schedules. Your face became dull, heartbeat slowing, eyes glossing over. You swore you could taste the acidic bile of breakfast on your tongue.

“She’s been that ugly two for one special, kills all of his chances by hanging around him. The real reason he struck out so much.”

You turn your back to the conversation, despite still having been able to hear it. No use in trying to block it out, for it had found you in surround sound.

“Didn’t he ask you on a date, Chelsea? And you turned him down?”

She scoffed. “My point exactly. She makes him less appealing. He’s just with her because he thinks that he should be, and because she’s the one that’s around him too much. He peaked in high school, but she’s certainly holding that fine ass of his back. Can you imagine the sex he’s wasting on that?”

You’re so caught up in your momentary memories, that you don’t even see Steve as he piles back into the car, his entire body lax, but his shoulders tense. His face holds a reserved softness for you. His voice, though, that takes on an entirely different undertone of mixed meanings - somewhere between a raging anger and a featherlight craving to provide solace. He’s saying something that takes you a few seconds to catch up with, your blurred vision noticeable. It confirms his suspicions that he’d accumulated by being hit on at the girl’s car.

“They came from your store, didn’t they? What did they say to you?” He sighs, trying to let that show, so that you don’t mistake it for annoyance.

“It’s… nothing. I’m okay.“

“Baby…” The way it’s practically pled, it makes you look at him. You meet concerned, slightly widened, mossy eyes, sun reflected in the enriching pools. His grown out caramel hair is a mess, shades pushed back to sit atop, his sun kissed skin visible through his white Kenny G shirt, along with overgrown chest hair, his chain length bracelet and neck chain (a gift from you for his latest birthday), and his ripped jeans he’d cut to make capri shorts.

He definitely shouldn’t be yours.

You reach to fiddle with the chain, that nervous habit back again. And Steve settles into your touch as it drums across his jugular. He tilts his head to kiss to the side of your fingers when they brush by. You pause to retreat, but he’s swift to take your hand in his, playing with your bracelet this time. How massive he looks in comparison.

You feel a calloused finger brush beneath your chin, bringing it up. His eyes are darting back and forth across your face. “Tell me what they said to you. I know that’s why you’re upset.”

“Were they talking about me?” Immediate humiliation settles in.

He’s quick to correct. “No, no. I just mean that when they started in with the flirting after I opened the hood, I was uncomfortable and I know you were. And I also remember that they did come from the video store, too.”

Your voice breaks and he slides his spare hand to your neck’s nape, bringing your forehead to his as you begin to tell him everything that was said. Safe to say, he’s NOT happy by the time that you’re finished, and he does a double take to look for their car. It’s already gone and he curses. “Shit. That’s fucking bullshit!”

He can’t fathom the process that he went through as you told him each and every single word heard. His tongue is tied, he wants to plead with you to know that it’s not true, that all of those things have NEVER been like that. There’s only one truth. And so, he tries with all his heart to explain it to you.

“God, honey, you have to know that when I’m with you, I don’t see anything else, can’t see anyone else. For years, it’s always just been you. I don’t care about who I was before. The man I am now, he wants his life to be with yours. He’s pretty gone on you, like in a stupid, I’ll almost die for you again, even when you tell me not to - kind of way, and probably more.”

Your heart rate has started speeding up again, caught beneath your breastbone, trying to find your throat, but can’t get through its tightness. You’re openly crying now, to which Steve solves by thumbing away, the bridge of his nose nudging yours, mouth laying his next statement in to cross. “Words, they’re not my strong point, you know that. But I want you to know that I’d learn a fucking dictionary in every single language if it meant I could tell you in better terms, how much you mean to me, how perfect you are, how beautiful, funny, and smart, how sexy, how tough, how loyal, how honest, how creative, how strong, and so much fuckin’ more... How what they said was the farthest thing from the truth, that they’re just jealous, airheaded bimbos.”

You let your palms find his face, the ache in your body causing a prickling in your toes. You’re pliant against his chest as he unbuckles your belt and his, pinching your waist and using his forearm to halfway hoist you middle way over the console to meet his mouth, all the while he’s whispering between every kiss, “I love you. I love you. So fucking much. I love you, honey.”

You don’t have to stop kissing to tell him that you love him back. Steve can feel it in the way that you hold onto him, tears changing, rolling from your cheeks and dripping onto his lips. I love you.

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theonottsbxtch · 10 days ago

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SPORTS CAR | OP81

an: so far for the last t8 songs ive given them to lando, time to give our boy oscar some love. i cant promise im back for good, its exam season at the school im working at so busy busy busy but anyway enjoy this op81 piece

wc: 4k

THE GALA WAS THE SORT OF EVENT where champagne flowed endlessly, and the air was thick with the weight of old money. Oscar, dressed in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo, leaned casually against the bar, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. The soft strains of classical music filled the grand hall, but his attention wasn’t on the string quartet or the ridiculously expensive artwork on the walls. It was on her.

She glided through the crowd as though she owned the place—because, in a way, she did. Her gown, a shimmering cascade of silver, caught the light with every deliberate step she took, and her smile was just shy of predatory. She was the kind of woman who never had to hear the word “no,” a little princess who always got exactly what she wanted. And tonight, it was clear that what she wanted was him.

Oscar swirled the amber liquid in his glass, suppressing the smirk threatening to spread across his face. He recognised that look—had seen it on her at least twice tonight when their gazes met from across the room. It was bold, unrelenting, and entirely unapologetic. She didn’t just want him; she wanted to make sure he knew it.

“Enjoying yourself?” Her voice broke through the small space between them as she appeared beside him at the bar. Her perfume—a heady mix of jasmine and something darker—wrapped around him as she leaned in, close enough for him to feel the warmth of her skin.

Oscar glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. “As much as one can at an event like this.”

She laughed softly, the sound smooth and syrupy. “A man with all the toys in the world, bored at a gala? I thought you’d be used to this sort of thing by now.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to enjoy it,” he replied, setting his glass down and turning to face her fully. His dark eyes flicked to her lips for a fraction of a second before meeting her gaze again. “What about you? Enjoying holding court?”

Her smile widened, a little wicked now. “The only fun I’m planning on having tonight isn’t going to be on the dance floor.” She tilted her head slightly, her voice dropping lower, meant only for him. “You brought one of your cars, didn’t you?”

Oscar’s smirk finally broke through. “I might’ve. Why?”

She stepped closer, her hand brushing the lapel of his tuxedo, and tilted her head as though her question was entirely innocent. “Because I’ve always wondered what the fuss is about. The leather seats, the thrill of it all... You should show me.”

He chuckled, low and dangerous, leaning in just enough for her breath to catch. “You think you can handle that, princess?”

Her eyes glinted with a mix of mischief and challenge. “Why don’t you take me for a spin and find out?”

Oscar shook his head, a low chuckle escaping him as he leaned back slightly. “Your dad would kill me,” he said, his tone light but edged with something darker.

She didn’t flinch. Instead, she tilted her head, her lips curling into a slow, knowing smile. “He doesn’t need to find out,” she murmured, her voice smooth as silk.

Oscar raised an eyebrow, watching her carefully. She was bold—too bold for her own good—and she knew it. “You’re not exactly the subtle type,” he pointed out, his tone laced with amusement.

She shrugged, utterly unbothered. “Subtlety is overrated. Besides, you’re clever. You’d figure something out.” She stepped closer, her fingers grazing the cuff of his sleeve, feather-light. “Unless you’re scared, of course.”

He let out a low laugh, shaking his head. “Scared? Of you?” His gaze flicked down to her hand before returning to her eyes, dark and steady. “You don’t scare me, princess.”

“Good,” she said simply, her voice soft but laced with that same unshakable confidence. “Because I’m not leaving here tonight without what I want.”

Her words hung in the air between them, the weight of her challenge impossible to ignore. Oscar let the silence stretch for a moment, his eyes locked on hers, weighing up the consequences. He could already feel the heat of her expectation, the daring glint in her gaze that made it clear she wasn’t bluffing.

Finally, he leaned in, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “You’re trouble, you know that?”

Her smile widened, shamelessly triumphant. “Always.”

He exhaled, shaking his head again as though he were trying to convince himself he wasn’t about to make a very stupid decision. But the way she was looking at him—like he was a prize she’d already claimed—made it impossible to resist.

“Fine,” he said at last, his voice a low rumble. “Meet me out front in five minutes. Don’t make me regret this.”

She didn’t respond, only grinned as she stepped back, smoothing the skirt of her gown as if nothing had happened. “You won’t,” she said, her tone light and breezy, as if they weren’t on the brink of scandal.

With one last look over her shoulder, she disappeared into the crowd, leaving Oscar standing there, shaking his head and wondering just how far he was about to let this go.

The air outside the gala was cool, the faint hum of engines and distant chatter filling the night. She stood near the grand entrance, the shimmer of her gown catching the soft glow of the streetlights. A few partygoers lingered around her, but she didn’t pay them any attention. Her focus was on the sleek McLaren pulling up to the curb, its low, aggressive stance impossible to ignore.

Oscar was behind the wheel of the dark grey 765LT Spider, its polished finish gleaming like liquid metal under the lights. The car exuded power and precision, its growl unmistakable even in neutral. As the passenger door lifted upwards, Oscar leaned over slightly, his dark eyes locking onto hers.

“Get in,” he said, his voice low and steady.

She didn’t hesitate, her heels clicking softly against the pavement as she slid into the seat. The leather interior cocooned her, the faint smell of luxury and petrol filling her senses. With the door closing seamlessly behind her, Oscar revved the engine once before pulling away from the gala, leaving the murmurs of curious onlookers behind.

The streets of Monaco unfurled ahead of them, glittering like a dream. The McLaren hugged the curves effortlessly as Oscar navigated the winding roads, the sound of the engine echoing off the buildings and cliffs. The city lights reflected in the water, casting a golden hue over everything, and the occasional roar of other supercars in the distance only added to the energy of the night.

She leaned back in her seat, her head tilted slightly as she watched him. He looked completely at ease, one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on the gear shift. His focus was sharp, the faint glow of the dashboard illuminating his sharp features.

“No girlfriend with you tonight?” she asked suddenly, her voice cutting through the soft hum of the engine.

Oscar’s lips twitched into a faint smirk. “Don’t have one,” he replied, not taking his eyes off the road.

“Why?”

He glanced at her briefly, his dark eyes filled with quiet amusement. “Why do you think?”

She turned slightly in her seat, her smile coy. “Don’t you think it’s time to change that?”

Oscar’s grip on the wheel tightened slightly, the words hanging in the air between them. For a moment, the only sound was the steady purr of the McLaren as they sped along the coastline. Then, as if making a split-second decision, he downshifted and pulled the car off the road, steering into a quiet lookout point overlooking the sparkling bay below.

The engine rumbled to a stop, leaving the world in near silence save for the distant waves crashing against the shore. Oscar turned to her, his dark eyes unreadable, the weight of her words still lingering.

“You really don’t know when to stop, do you?” he murmured, his voice low and thick with something she couldn’t quite place.

Her smile didn’t waver. “Why would I, when I’m getting exactly what I want?”

For a moment, he just stared at her, the tension between them crackling like static electricity. Then, without another word, he leaned in, one hand reaching up to cup her jaw as his lips crashed against hers. The kiss was electric, heated and unapologetic, the kind of kiss that left no room for second guesses.

She responded instantly, her fingers tangling in the lapels of his jacket as she pulled him closer. The cool leather of the seat beneath her was a stark contrast to the heat radiating between them, their breaths mingling as the kiss deepened.

When they finally broke apart, both of them slightly breathless, she grinned up at him, her confidence as unshakable as ever.

“Told you I’d get what I wanted,” she murmured.

Oscar let out a low laugh, shaking his head as his thumb brushed against her cheek. “You’re going to ruin me, princess.”

She leaned in again, her lips ghosting over his. “You’ll survive.”

Oscar’s gaze lingered on her, his lips still tingling from their kiss. He leaned in again, his hand slipping to her waist as his breath ghosted over her lips, but just as he closed the distance, she pulled back.

Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she settled against the seat, her smile playful yet maddeningly smug. “Patience,” she whispered, her tone dripping with teasing sweetness. “What’s the rush?”

Oscar narrowed his eyes, his jaw tightening slightly. “You’re enjoying this too much,” he muttered, his voice low and rough.

“Am I?” she said, tilting her head, her fingers tracing the edge of her seatbelt as though she hadn’t just pulled away from him. “Or am I just keeping you on your toes?”

His lips twitched into a smirk, though there was a dangerous edge to it now. “You like playing games, don’t you?”

Before she could respond, Oscar reached out, his hand tangling in her hair with surprising firmness. The suddenness of it made her breath hitch, her teasing smile faltering for the first time. He pulled her towards him, his grip gentle but commanding, and the shift in his energy sent a spark of heat straight through her.

“You forget,” he murmured, his voice a low growl against her ear, “I don’t like to lose.”

And then he kissed her, harder this time, with none of the hesitation from before. It was all hunger and heat, his lips claiming hers as though he was determined to remind her who was in control. She didn’t resist—in fact, the soft sound that escaped her as he deepened the kiss made it clear she wasn’t protesting at all.

Without breaking the kiss, Oscar shifted her effortlessly. His hands gripped her waist as he pulled her onto his lap, her gown gathering around her as she straddled him. The space in the McLaren was tight, but neither of them seemed to care. Her hands slid up his chest, clutching at his shirt as she kissed him back with equal fervour, her earlier teasing entirely abandoned.

Oscar’s hand moved from her hair to the curve of her back, holding her close as their lips moved in sync, the heat between them building with every second. Her perfume wrapped around him, intoxicating, and the soft hum of her breathing against his skin only made him want more.

When they finally broke apart, her lips were swollen, her chest rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath. She looked down at him, her composure shaken but her eyes still alight with that same daring spark.

“You’re full of surprises,” she murmured, her voice breathless.

Oscar smirked, his hand still resting on her back as he looked up at her. “And you’re full of trouble,” he countered, his voice low and gravelly. “But I don’t mind.”

She laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face as she leaned in again, her lips hovering just inches from his. “Good. Because I’m not done with you yet.”

Oscar’s hand lingered on her back as he leaned back slightly, his smirk firmly in place. “We should probably head back before someone notices we’re gone,” he said, though the heat in his voice made it clear he wasn’t entirely committed to the idea.

She tilted her head, her fingers tracing along the edge of his collar. “Fine,” she said, her tone soft but full of something mischievous. Then she added, “But can I drive?”

Oscar blinked, surprised, before letting out a low chuckle. “Drive?” He raised a brow, glancing around the interior of the McLaren. “You want to drive this?”

“Why not?” she teased, sliding off his lap into her seat while adjusting her gown. Her hand brushed along the leather of the steering wheel as she looked at him with a grin. “What, don’t think I can handle it?”

He hesitated for a moment. Letting someone else—especially her—behind the wheel of his prized McLaren felt like madness. But there was something about the way she looked at him, that mix of challenge and confidence, that made it impossible to say no.

“Fine,” he said finally, his voice low and measured. “But if you so much as scratch it—”

She laughed, cutting him off as she opened her door ready to claim her seat. “Relax, Oscar. I know how to handle expensive toys.”

He climbed into the passenger seat, watching as she adjusted the seat and placed her hands on the wheel with a kind of natural ease that caught him off guard. She turned the key, and the car roared back to life, purring under her control.

“Careful,” he muttered as she pulled out of the lookout point, her silver gown shimmering in the glow of the dashboard.

But careful wasn’t really her style.

The McLaren glided through the winding streets of Monaco, her movements smooth and deliberate. She drove with the kind of confidence that made it impossible not to watch her—one hand on the wheel, the other shifting gears effortlessly. Her gaze was sharp, focused, but there was a small, satisfied smile tugging at her lips, as though she knew exactly what she was doing to him.

Oscar leaned back in his seat, his eyes fixed on her. There was something undeniably hot about watching her handle the car. The way her fingers gripped the wheel, the slight tilt of her head as she navigated the sharp turns, the soft hum of concentration she made under her breath—it was intoxicating.

His jaw tightened as he shifted in his seat, trying to focus on anything other than the growing heat building inside him. “You’re enjoying this a little too much,” he muttered.

She glanced at him briefly, her smile widening. “What, you don’t think I’m doing a good job?”

“You’re doing fine,” he admitted grudgingly, though his tone betrayed just how much more he was thinking.

But instead of heading back to the gala, she veered off, turning down a quieter road that led toward the waterfront. Oscar frowned, sitting up slightly.

“Where are we going?” he asked, his voice laced with suspicion.

She didn’t answer immediately, her smile remaining as she continued to drive. The glow of the city faded slightly as she pulled into the circular drive of a luxury hotel, its grand façade glittering under the night sky.

She parked smoothly, turning off the engine before looking over at him with that same maddeningly smug expression. “Thought we could use a change of scenery,” she said casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Oscar stared at her, caught somewhere between annoyance and intrigue. “You know, this wasn’t exactly part of the plan.”

She leaned back in her seat, one hand still resting on the wheel, her eyes glinting with amusement. “Since when do you strike me as a man who follows a plan?”

He opened his mouth to retort, but the sight of her—smug, gorgeous, completely in control—had him swallowing his words. There was no denying it: watching her drive his car, taking charge like that, had done something to him.

“You’re trouble,” he muttered under his breath, his voice rough with something more than frustration.

Her grin widened, her confidence unwavering as she leaned towards him slightly. “And you love it.”

For a moment, he just looked at her, the tension between them crackling like static electricity. Then, without a word, he leaned in, his hand gripping her jaw as he kissed her again, this time with more intensity than before.

Oscar was just starting to lose himself in the kiss when she abruptly pulled away, leaving him momentarily stunned. She smirked at him, her confidence maddeningly intact, and reached for the car door.

“Wait—what are you doing?” he asked, still catching his breath.

But she didn’t answer. Instead, she stepped out of the McLaren, smoothing her gown as if nothing had happened. Before he could process what was going on, she tossed the car keys to the valet standing nearby. The poor man fumbled but managed to catch them, staring wide-eyed at the sleek car she’d just stepped out of.

“Take care of it,” she said breezily, her tone one of casual authority.

Oscar remained in the passenger seat, stunned. He wasn’t used to people taking charge—especially not with his car—but somehow, the way she did it was effortlessly sexy. She didn’t even glance back at him as she strode toward the grand entrance of the hotel, the soft click of her heels against the pavement leaving him momentarily frozen.

It wasn’t until the valet awkwardly cleared his throat that Oscar snapped out of it. He scrambled out of the car, muttering, “Don’t scratch it,” before hurrying after her.

By the time he reached the hotel lobby, she was already stepping into the lift, her silver gown shimmering under the chandelier’s light. The lift doors were beginning to close, and for a second, he thought she might leave him behind. But just as the gap narrowed, her gaze met his, and she pressed the button to hold the doors.

Oscar stepped in, his breathing slightly uneven—not from the chase, but from the way she was looking at him, all challenge and heat.

“You’re impossible,” he said, his voice low and rough.

She tilted her head, her lips curving into a wicked smile. “You’re the one who followed me.”

The doors slid shut, sealing them inside. The moment they were alone, the tension between them became unbearable. The soft hum of the lift seemed deafening in the silence as Oscar took a step closer, his eyes locked on hers.

“You’re going to drive me insane,” he muttered, his voice thick with frustration and desire.

Her smile widened, her confidence as infuriating as it was intoxicating. “Good,” she whispered.

That was all it took.

Oscar closed the distance in an instant, backing her against the wall of the lift as his lips found hers again. This time, there was no hesitation, no space for games. His hands gripped her waist, pulling her flush against him as he kissed her deeply, his frustration pouring into every movement.

She responded with equal fervour, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him closer, her back pressing against the cold metal of the lift wall. The contrast between the chill of the wall and the heat of his touch sent shivers through her, but she didn’t pull away. If anything, she pushed closer, her body arching into his.

Oscar’s hand slid to the small of her back, holding her firmly in place as his lips moved to her jaw, then down to the curve of her neck. Her breath hitched, and he felt the slight tremor that ran through her.

“Still want to play games?” he murmured against her skin, his voice a low growl.

She let out a soft laugh, her nails grazing the back of his neck as she tilted her head to give him more access. “Only if I keep winning,” she whispered, her voice breathless.

He pulled back just enough to look at her, his dark eyes smouldering. “Not this time.”

Before she could respond, he captured her lips again, silencing whatever quip she was about to throw at him. The kiss was fiery, intense, and left no room for second-guessing. The soft chime of the lift was barely a blip in the haze of their heated embrace. By the time the doors slid open, neither of them made any move to stop. Oscar’s lips were still locked on hers, his hands gripping her waist as though letting go wasn’t an option. She tugged him forward, their steps hurried and uncoordinated as they stumbled out of the lift.

“Which one?” he murmured against her lips, his voice thick and breathless.

She broke the kiss just long enough to motion toward the double doors at the end of the corridor. “Penthouse,” she whispered, her tone teasing but drenched with desire.

Oscar didn’t need more instruction. His hand found hers as they hurried toward the doors, her soft laughter echoing in the hallway as they fumbled to get inside. She reached into her clutch, pulling out the key card and sliding it through the reader with a practiced flick of her wrist. The lock clicked, and before the door could even swing fully open, Oscar had her pinned against the frame, his mouth crashing onto hers again.

She gasped against his lips, her hands finding their way under his jacket, fingers splaying against the hard lines of his chest. He pushed her through the doorway, their movements clumsy but urgent, and the door slammed shut behind them with a soft thud.

The suite was breathtaking, all glittering chandeliers and floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a panoramic view of Monaco’s sparkling coastline. But neither of them paid it any mind. She walked him backward toward the plush sofa in the centre of the room, her lips never leaving his.

His hands roamed her body with a possessive hunger, sliding down her back to the curve of her hips. The silky fabric of her gown was smooth beneath his fingertips, but he was already imagining what was underneath. His lips trailed from her mouth to her jaw, then to the delicate column of her neck, eliciting a soft moan from her that made his blood run hotter.

Her own hands were equally adventurous, pushing his jacket from his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor with a soft rustle. She tugged at the buttons of his shirt, her impatience making quick work of them as she revealed the toned muscles beneath.

“Impressive,” she murmured, her voice teasing but shaky with anticipation.

Oscar smirked against her skin, his lips grazing the hollow of her throat. “Thought you’d appreciate it.”

Her laugh was cut short by the way his hands gripped her thighs, lifting her slightly as he flipped her toward the sofa. She let out a breathless gasp as he set her down on the edge, his body immediately pressing against hers. His hand trailed up her bare thigh, pushing the slit of her gown further aside as his lips found hers again.

Her hands tangled in his hair, tugging gently as she pulled him closer, her own control slipping with every passing second. His other hand travelled south, his touch firm yet teasing as it inched along her skin, setting her nerves alight.

“Still feeling in charge?” he murmured against her lips, his voice low and rough.

Her response was a soft moan, her head falling back against the cushion as he kissed a line down her neck, his hand exploring further. The sound of her breaths, quick and shallow, filled the air between them, mingling with the faint hum of the city outside.

He smirked, his lips grazing the sensitive spot just below her ear. “That’s what I thought.”

taglist: @alexisquinnlee-bc @carlossainzapologist @oikarma @obxstiles @verstappenf1lecccc @hzstry8 @dying-inside-but-its-classy @anamiad00msday @linnygirl09 @mastermindbaby @iamred-iamyellow

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battymommastuff · 11 months ago

Text

The One I was Meant to Find

Batmom x Batman, Batmom x Batfamily

Prompt: While digging through the attic, Dick Grayson and Jason Todd uncover a secret about their adoptive mother. A secret that reveals the true, and dark story of the most loved couple in Gotham City

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Masterlist

!!DISCLAIMER!! - This likely won't be comic accurate (Obviously), but I did draw inspiration from the comics. If you are looking for something accurate, then this fanfic isn't for you.

You can swallow fire, you've practically flown through the hair....You've performed in front of millions from age eighteen. You felt like you could handle anything the world threw at you....

Until you entered the Upper district of Gotham City a week after being taken in by Bruce Wayne. The part of the city full of the most lavish, and expensive stores. So many name brands that you only ever dreamed of wearing. Not even Haly himself could afford such luxuries, and he owned the circus. Bruce insisted that he bring you to this part of the city to shop for your new wardrobe. He planned on buying outfits, dresses, shoes, jewelry, perfumes, and anything else you could never need. You tried to convince him to just take you to a thrift shop or some random outlet, but he only looked at you as if you spat on his shoes.

So here you were, standing in front of a store that you had no business being in. Little did you know, you would be walking into these stores as if you were walking through your home in the future. All in due time...

Bruce enjoyed a cheap glass of champagne while you were given dress after dress to wear. Since your method of employment was no longer safe, he planned on hiring you as his assistant until you were safe to find your own career path. You stepped out in a dark blue dress that fit a little big on you, "Bruce, you really don't have to do this...I mean a thousand dollars for a dress? I'm sure we can find something similar for a cheaper price." You said while holding the price tag. He frowned, standing up from his seat. He walked over to you and inspected the price tag for himself.

He turned you around so you were facing the mirror, "I think it looks wonderful on you." Bruce said with a smile. He moved your hair to the side so he could zip up the rest of the dress and rested his hand on your hip. You both decided to put off the facade of being a couple while in public. Subtle touches like this were going to happen, but he didn't go too far with it, "I could buy this entire store if I wanted to." He whispered into your ear. A shiver went down your spine, and you bit your lip softly. You knew Bruce Wayne was rich, but just how rich was he? Obviously he was rich enough to keep up his lifestyle as Batman. You turned around, not realizing just how close the two of you were.

Have you ever had that feeling? That feeling that you were looking at someone you knew? As if you'd been with them a thousand life times. That's what you felt when you looked into his eyes. It was as if your souls found each other once again. You knew the theory of the multiverse from one of the clowns in the circus, he loved conspiracy. The thought of you and Bruce being together in different universes made you giggle a bit, "What's so funny?" He asked, his hand still resting on your waist.

"Nothing at all, Mr. Wayne." Bruce rolled his eyes then back away from you. You only called him that to be a tease. You two often found yourselves teasing one another. Which is why Alfred was very happy to have the both of you out of the house...so he can be free of the thick tension for a few hours. Now you were walking downstairs to the batcave, dressed in one of your new nightgowns. Tonight was one of those nights where you felt unsafe. Truly, you never felt safe. You knew there were eyes on you outside of Wayne Manor. The only place you felt safe was right by Bruce's side...or Batman's at this time of night.

"You should be asleep." Batman said as he typed away on the batcomputer. It made you think of the night he rescued you, "You have a busy day tomorrow, and I'm sure your boss wouldn't be happy with you being tardy." He joked then turned to look at you. He could tell instantly that you were scared. He understood the fear. After his parents were murdered, he would be up all night in fear of their murderer coming back to finish him off. Living life having to constantly look over your shoulder was no life to live. Without a word, he stood up while removing his cape. The surprisingly light material was draped over your shoulders to keep you warm. He wasn't going to make you leave. If you felt safe around him, then you could stay. Still in silence, you sat down on a stool next to a table lined with gadgets. You hadn't the faintest clue of what any of them were, but they looked very dangerous.

Was it strange? That you could picture your life like this? By his side, helping him on his quest for Justice. The Manor already felt like home. More so than the circus ever did. That feeling came back again. The one where you felt as if you've been through this before. As if every choice you've ever made led to this very moment. Led you to Bruce.

"Do you believe in soulmates?"

"No."

Your mouth formed an O shape and you awkwardly nodded. That might have been a question for Bruce Wayne not Batman. You learned quickly that the two were vastly different people. Bruce almost felt like the mask while Batman was truly who he was. Sometimes you saw a mix of the two...which you favored.

"Y/N. I'm not someone you can love. My life and what I do will only bring you more danger, you will never live the happy life you deserve to live. I can never make you happy, and can never give myself to you fully. I'm sorry."

Being rejected before the first move was ever made never felt good. You felt your heart shatter at the same time that your eyes began to water, "R-Right...I was dumb to ever think otherwise." You said while sliding down from the stool, "Goodnight...Batman." You whispered and swiftly left the batcave, passing Alfred who instantly noticed the tears falling from your eyes. He could only shake his head as he made his way down the stone steps.

"Lying to yourself and to her will only make it worse, Master Wayne." Alfred said as he set down a fresh cup of tea next to Batman. Nothing was ever openly spoken, but it was obvious that Bruce and Batman both had feelings for you. Everything about you just drove him insane. He never believed in soulmates until he met you. He never thought that there could be anyone in this world made for him. Yet there you were, and it terrified him. How could he ever keep you safe? Once his enemies knew of you, you were going to be the target. The Court was already going after you, but he had so many more that would love to watch him hurt. He knew if he let himself care for you, it would only end with him losing you.

And he couldn't lose you....

TAGLIST

@maxinehufflepuffprincess @tayswhp @rainycloud858 @luna-zendra-star @starlets-things @simpfourmarvel @kawaistrawberry21 @js-favnanadoongi @kodzukenmaaa @xxrougefangxx @pixviee @discocactus-world @b4tm4nn @minimoxha @crutoyu @nightw-izhu @legendarylearner18 @mangegeek17 @pixiedust0604 @that-one-fangirl69 @ilovetaquitosmmmm @irelanrose @asterelz @angelxx7 @millies0bsimp @marie0v @starmansirius @amberpanda99 @hoshi-is-ult-bbg @inutheangel @chaoticevilbakugo @mellowdiy @luvly-writer @enretrogue @zanzie @backyardfolklore

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ifwbillie · 2 months ago

Text

not this time (angst) | b.e x fem!reader

summary: billie keeps coming back when she needs to relax, to have some comfort. but not from your words, no, she wanted pleasure—the only thing that could help her deal with all her stuffs. you can’t take it anymore.

warnings: angst, kinda “happy” ending, billie’s emotional baggage and messy behavior.

wc: 3,1k

a/n. thats the second im writing to post here so yeah hope you like it!! and english is NOT my first language, sorry for any mistakes.

the knock at my door was soft but deliberate, just like always. i didn’t need to check the peephole to know it was her. billie. she never called beforehand. she didn’t need to. she had this power over me, this silent agreement that whenever she showed up, i’d let her in.

i sighed, my heart already tightening in my chest as i made my way to the door. when i opened it, there she was, leaning against the frame, her hoodie hanging loosely off one shoulder. her eyes glimmered, and her lips curved into that half-smile she always wore when she wanted something from me.

“hey, you,” she said, her voice low and smooth, the kind of tone that made it impossible to think straight.

“billie,” i greeted, trying to keep my voice steady, trying not to let her see the way my resolve was already crumbling.

she stepped inside without waiting for an invitation, brushing past me as her perfume filled the air. it was intoxicating, like everything about her—dangerous and alluring. she didn’t even bother with small talk. she never did on nights like this.

“i had a rough day,” she said, collapsing onto my couch and stretching out like she owned the place. her hoodie slipped further down her shoulder, exposing a hint of skin. she caught me looking and smirked. “you don’t mind, right? i just needed to be somewhere i could… relax.”

relax. that was always her word for this. for us. it was her excuse, her justification for the way she used me when things got tough. she didn’t want comfort or advice. she wanted distraction. she wanted pleasure.

i stood there, frozen, as she patted the empty spot on the couch beside her. “come on,” she urged, her voice dripping with honey. “don’t make me beg.”

it was always like this. billie came to me when her world fell apart, when her other hookups weren’t enough, when she needed something deeper than a one-night fix but not deep enough to mean commitment. and every time, i let her. because i couldn’t say no. because i thought maybe, just maybe, this time would be different.

but it wasn’t.

i sat down beside her, and she immediately curled up against me, her hand tracing lazy circles on my thigh. my heart raced as she tilted her head up, her lips inches from mine.

“you always know how to make me feel better,” she whispered, her breath warm against my skin.

her words were meant to be a compliment, but they only stung. i was her cure for the bad days, her escape when she didn’t want to face her reality. and when the storm in her life passed, she’d leave, just like she always did, and go back to them. the others.

“billie,” i started, my voice barely audible.

she didn’t let me finish. her lips found mine, soft and demanding, pulling me into her orbit. for a moment, i almost gave in. it was what she wanted, and i was so used to giving her exactly that. but something inside me snapped.

i pulled back, my chest heaving. “no.”

billie blinked, her hand still resting on my leg. “no?” she repeated, like she couldn’t believe what she’d just heard.

i stood, putting distance between us. “you can’t keep doing this,” i said, my voice trembling with a mix of anger and pain.

her expression shifted, confusion and frustration flashing in her eyes. “what are you talking about?”

“this!” i gestured between us, my voice rising. “you show up here whenever you’re feeling bad, use me to make yourself feel better, and then you leave. and i let you, because i—” my throat tightened, but i forced the words out. “because i care about you. but you don’t care about me. not really.”

“that’s not true,” she said quickly, standing now. “you’re my—”

“don’t say it,” i cut her off. “don’t call me your friend, because this isn’t friendship. friends don’t do this.”

she opened her mouth to argue, but i wasn’t done.

“you don’t get to come here and act like i’m the only one when i know i’m not. i know about odessa. i know about the others. you go to them when you want something casual, but you come to me when you want something… deeper. but it’s not real, billie. none of it is real.”

her face paled, and for a moment, she looked like she might cry. but then she scowled, crossing her arms. “i didn’t force you to do anything,” she said defensively. “you could’ve said no.”

i laughed bitterly. “you’re right. i could’ve. and i should’ve. but you knew i wouldn’t. you knew i’d always be here for you, no matter what. and you used that.”

“that’s not fair,” she snapped, her voice rising now.

“no, billie, what’s not fair is you treating me like i’m just another one of your hookups when you know i want more than that. what’s not fair is you using me to patch yourself up when you’re broken and then tossing me aside when you’re whole again.”

the room fell silent, the weight of my words hanging in the air. billie looked at me, her lips parted like she wanted to say something, but no words came.

finally, she dropped her gaze, her shoulders slumping. “i didn’t mean to hurt you,” she said softly.

“but you did,” i replied, my voice breaking. “over and over again. and i can’t do it anymore, billie. i can’t keep letting you use me.”

she flinched, her hands balling into fists at her sides. “i never asked you to—”

“you didn’t have to,” i interrupted. “you knew i would, because i—” i stopped myself, shaking my head. “it doesn’t matter. not anymore.”

she stared at me for a long moment, her eyes searching mine, but whatever she was looking for, she didn’t find it. without another word, she turned and walked out the door.

and this time, i didn’t follow her.

that night, i cried till i finally slept. i didn’t expect the tears to come, but they did, flooding my eyes and drowning me in a wave of grief. i thought i was angry. i thought i was strong enough to stand my ground, but the truth was, i had no idea just how deep my feelings for billie went until i had to face them.

it had been two weeks since she walked out of my apartment, and in that time, i hadn’t heard from her. not once. the silence was suffocating, and the absence of her presence in my life was like a hole that seemed to grow bigger every day. i tried to push her out of my mind, tried to ignore the constant ache in my chest, but it never worked. every corner of my apartment felt empty without her; every song, every moment, reminded me of the girl who had broken my heart and left me with nothing but memories.

i couldn’t reach out to her. not after what happened. not after everything i’d said. i was too proud, too hurt. but more than that, i was afraid that if i reached for her, i’d just fall back into the same endless cycle. i couldn’t be her safety net anymore. i couldn’t keep letting her use me and then walk away.

but oh, how i missed her. the way she laughed, the way her eyes sparkled when she was happy, the way she always knew just how to make me feel like i was the only one who mattered. it was impossible to ignore. and some nights, i caught myself wondering if maybe i should’ve kept quiet. maybe i shouldn’t have said all those things. maybe things could’ve stayed the same, and i could’ve just kept pretending that it wasn’t tearing me apart inside.

but it was too late for that now. i had spoken the truth, and there was no going back.

days passed in a blur, each one blending into the next. i spent my time alone, reading, working, trying to fill the emptiness with anything i could, but nothing worked. nothing could erase the ache. i found myself scrolling through our old conversations—texts that once made me smile.

the words between us used to feel real.

billie: “damn ur always there for me when i need you”

me: “of course. i’ll always be here you know that”

billie: “really babe, idk what id do without you :(((”

me: “you don’t have to worry about that. i’ve got you always<33”

and then there were the moments that felt like more than just friendship. the moments where i believed, for a second, that maybe she felt the same way.

billie: “idk why i’m so drawn to you. u just get me in a way no one else does :’b”

me: “i feel the same way, billie. maybe more than i should”

billie: “you know i care bout you, right? more than u think”

i’d believed her. i thought that one day, maybe we’d be more than friends. i thought that one day, when the time was right, we’d make it work. but now, looking back at all those texts, it felt like a lie. just words strung together to make me feel wanted when she needed me, but never with any real intention.

one more week passed, and i was beginning to convince myself that i could live without her. maybe this was it. maybe i had to let go for good.

but then, one night, she came through the door again.

i didn’t hear the knock this time. the door just opened, and there she was—standing in the threshold, her eyes locking onto mine.

she didn’t wait for me to speak. without a word, she crossed the room in a few quick strides and crashed her lips into mine, hard and intense, like she couldn’t get enough of me.

my body froze. for a moment, i thought i was dreaming, but when i felt her hands pulling me closer, when i felt the heat of her breath against my skin, i knew this was real.

her kiss was urgent, frantic, like she was trying to make up for the days we’d lost. and part of me, the part that still missed her, the part that never stopped wanting her, melted into it. i kissed her back, not caring anymore about the hurt, the anger, the pain. it all disappeared in that instant, replaced by the desperate need to feel something—anything—that resembled the connection we’d once shared.

but even as i kissed her, part of me screamed for answers.

“why are you here?” i asked breathlessly, pulling away just enough to speak, my hands still on her shoulders, my heart racing.

she didn’t answer right away. she just stared at me, her lips swollen from our kiss, her eyes clouded with something i couldn’t quite read.

“i couldn’t stay away,” she whispered finally, her voice barely a breath. “i’m sorry. i… i messed up.”

i swallowed hard, my chest tightening again. “you think you can just show up here after two weeks and everything’s fine? you think you can kiss me like nothing happened?”

she didn’t say anything, but her eyes were soft, almost pleading. she reached for my hand, her fingers grazing mine.

“i know i’ve hurt you,” she said quietly. “but i can’t help how i feel. and i just can’t be without you.”

and in that moment, despite everything—despite the anger, the pain, the weeks of silence—I felt the pull again. the same pull that always dragged me back to her. the same pull that made me forget everything else when she was near.

but this time, something was different. this time, i didn’t know if i could forgive her. this time, i didn’t know if i could keep pretending that we were something more than all this chaos between us.

“billie,” i whispered, my voice trembling. “i don’t know if i can do this anymore.”

her expression faltered, a flicker of fear passing through her eyes. but before she could respond, i pulled away, taking a deep breath.

“you can’t keep coming and going, billie. you can’t keep doing this to me.”

she stood there, her body stiff, her eyes locked onto mine, waiting for something—anything—that would tell her what i wanted, what i needed. but i didn’t have the answers. not anymore.

for the first time, i wasn’t sure if i could keep waiting for her.

but she didn’t leave after that. billie stood there, the weight of the silence heavy between us, her eyes searching mine like she was looking for something that wasn’t there.

“you came to me when you needed someone, but when you didn’t, you went back to whoever made it easier. to them. to anyone but me,” i said quietly, my voice low and filled with bitterness.

billie’s expression hardened, but she didn’t argue. her lips parted, but no words came out at first. she stepped forward, slowly, almost hesitant, like she was afraid of what might happen if she got too close.

“i know i messed up,” she said softly, her voice carrying the weight of guilt and regret. “but i didn’t know what else to do. you were always there for me, and i couldn’t face how much i needed you. so i kept running. i kept pushing you away because i was afraid.”

“afraid of what?” i asked, my tone sharper than i meant it to be. “afraid of feeling something real?”

her gaze softened, and she took another step forward. “afraid of you,” she whispered. “afraid of what i feel for you.”

i froze, my heart beating faster, but i didn’t say anything. she wasn’t making sense. she couldn’t be. not after everything she’d done.

“i tried to stay away,” billie continued, her voice trembling now. “i tried to numb myself with other people, with everything else, but it didn’t work. i couldn’t stop thinking about you, about us. and the longer i stayed away, the harder it got. the more i realized that i… i really can’t be without you.”

my chest tightened, my anger warring with the part of me that still wanted her. still loved her, so fucking much. “so now, you’re here,” i said bitterly. “now, when you’ve finally realized you’ve lost me.”

billie’s eyes welled with tears, but she didn’t let them fall. she wiped them away quickly, taking another step forward until she was standing right in front of me. “i never meant to hurt you. i never meant to take you for granted. y/n… i love you.”

for a moment, i was silent, just staring at her. i could feel my walls starting to crack, the defenses i’d built over the last few weeks crumbling with every word she spoke. but i couldn’t let her off that easily. not after everything.

“love me?” i asked, my voice cutting through the silence. “you love me? or do you love how i’m always here for you? how i let you come back whenever you needed someone to fix you?”

billie’s breath caught in her throat, and she blinked quickly, like she was trying to hold it all together. her hands trembled as she reached out for mine, but i pulled away, needing space.

“i love you,” she said, the words barely escaping her lips. “i always have.”

i shook my head, disbelief flooding my chest. “no, billie. you don’t. you can’t. you didn’t even see it until now.”

“i didn’t want to see it,” she admitted quietly, her eyes filling with pain. “i didn’t want to admit it to myself because i was afraid. afraid of what it meant. afraid of how much i care about you. so i pushed you away, used you when i needed you, and then ran to others to make the feeling go away. but it never worked. it never worked because i love you.”

i was shaking, not sure what to feel. the hurt, the anger, the confusion—it was all still there, but now there was this rawness, this vulnerability in her words that made everything feel so much more complicated. damn.

“you love me?” i asked again, my voice thick with emotion. “then why didn’t you ever say it before? why did you let me believe you didn’t care about me the way i cared about you?”

billie’s face softened, her lips trembling as she looked up at me, her voice barely above a whisper. “because i was afraid to admit it. i didn’t know what it meant to be in love with you. i didn’t know how to handle it, so i kept pushing you away. i kept running to others to try and forget the way you made me feel.”

i stared at her, feeling my heart tug painfully in my chest. it was the truth. the raw, painful truth that she was finally admitting. and even though it hurt, even though i was scared, i could see the honesty in her eyes now.

“billie,” i said, my voice breaking. “i can’t keep doing this. i can’t keep being the one you come to when you’re broken, only for you to leave again when you’re whole.”

she reached for me, this time not hesitating, her fingers gently brushing against my cheek. “i know,” she whispered. “i know. and i’m sorry. i’ve hurt you more than anyone ever should. but i’m here now, and i’m not leaving. not this time.”

i looked at her, the words i’d been holding back finally slipping out. “i don’t know if i can trust you again.”

billie’s face crumpled, and for the first time, i saw the vulnerability in her that i had been craving all along. “i’ll earn your trust,” she promised, her voice steady despite the tears in her eyes. “i’ll do whatever it takes. but i need you to know that i love you. give me one more chance, just one more and i promise you i can make it right.”

for a long moment, i just stood there, torn between the hurt i’d felt and the possibility of something real with her. as i looked at her—really looked at her—I saw it. the sincerity in her eyes, the honesty in her voice. she wasn’t running anymore.

and maybe, just maybe, neither was i.

i took a step forward, my hand reaching out to her. “you know i love you too,” i whispered, my voice barely audible. “but please, billie, don’t hurt me more. i can’t handle that.”

billie nodded, tears falling freely now, as she pulled me into her arms. and for the first time in a long time, i let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, we could make it work.

#billie eilish #billie eilish x fem!reader #billie eilish fic #billie eilish x you #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish imagine #billie eilish angst #billie eilish oneshot #billie eilish x y/n

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rafecameronsslut4ever · 13 days ago

Text

RUN FOR THE HILLS — max verstappen (angst, smut, nsfw)

pairing; fem!reader x max verstappen summary: you knew deep down that it was never gonna be you and him. warnings: angst, smut, nsfw, mdni, fingering a/n: lowkey highkey obsessed w tate mcrae😵😵i need to stop writing just angst and smut

the suite smelled like him; a faint mix of the expensive perfume he used and the redbulls he always drank.

a metallic tang of adrenaline clung to the air itself.

you hated how much it felt like home—this room that wasn’t yours, this man who wasn't yours.

but it always was like this. hotels, late nights, his hands through your hair. your clothes scattered across the floor.

you were perched on the edge of the bed, legs bare beneath a shirt he had forgotten he’d lent you.

his silhouette loomed in the doorway to the balcony, glass filled with some alcohol—glowing faintly between his fingers. the city lights painted his face in shades of gold and blue, highlighting the sharpness of his jaw and the set of his mouth.

he hadn’t said a word in minutes.

but it was always like this after, once the thrill burned off, leaving only silence.

silence that was a reminder of the long talks that never went deep enough, never continued outside of the room. his red eyes, that were evidence of too much feeling buried beneath too little honesty. and of you, missing the moments when he was still close enough to touch.

“you’re quiet,” you murmured, voice soft. you didn’t mean for it to sound as accusatory as it did, but the tension in the room was thick enough to choke on.

max sucked in a sharp breath. “what do you want me to say?” his voice was hoarse, as if he’d swallowed gravel and wasn’t interested in smoothing it out.

you bit back the immediate response, instead choosing to slide off the bed and approach him. the cool floor stung your feet as you crossed the small distance to stand beside him.

“what this is?” you asked, your words barely audible over the muffled sounds of the city below.

max turned to you, eyes dark and unreadable.

he had a way of looking at you in a way that made you jittery, like he could see every thought you’d ever had about him.

“it’s whatever you want it to be,” he said after a pause, and you hated the way his words felt like both a gift and a dismissal.

your laugh came sharp and humourless.

“don’t you fucking do that, max.” you stepped closer, daring him to flinch, to break. “you’re the one who texts me at two in the morning. you're the one who shows up even when i say i need space. you're the one who kisses me and then acts like it doesn’t mean anything.”

“stop.” his voice came like a whip, cutting through the air. he harshly placed his glass on the table before looking at you again. “you think i don’t know what this is doing to you? to us?”

us.

the word hung there, fragile and fleeting, choking the air and suffocating both of you.

you looked into his eyes, shaking your head.

fuck.

you grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him toward you, crashing your mouth against his.

the kiss was desperate, tongue and teeth and anger spilling out all at once.

his hands found your waist, fingers digging into your skin like he was afraid you might disappear if he didn’t hold tight enough.

“this isn’t gonna work,” you gasped against his mouth, even as your hands slid beneath his shirt to trace the muscles of his back. “it’s never gonna be real.”

he pulled back just enough to look at you, his breath hot against your lips. “walk away, then.”

the answer knocked the air from your lungs, but deep down you knew he was right.

you should have left months ago, left the first time you realised what he meant to you and how little you meant to him in return. but here you were, melting from his touch, caught in the gravity of him.

drawn to the danger that was covered by the thrill.

“i'm obsessed with you,” you whispered, the confession raw, bleeding between you both.

his lips found yours again, softer this time, like an apology he didn’t know how to give. he backed you into the room, the edge of the bed catching the backs of your knees until you were falling, pulling him down with you.

his weight settled over you, grounding you in a way that felt both comforting and suffocating.

clothes disappeared in a haze of heat and urgency.

his hands roamed around your body as if he was memorising you, as if this was the last time he’d ever touch you.

perhaps, it was.

his lips traced a fire along your collarbone, down your chest, lower still. all you could do was feel—the slide of his skin against yours, the way he filled the empty spaces inside you that you didn’t even know existed until him.

you gasped as his fingers slipped inside you, his touch familiar, addictive.

the way he touched you, it went straight to your heart, igniting a fire within you and cutting your heart.

your nails dug into his shoulders, the skin slick beneath your fingers. he was everywhere, and it wasn't enough.

"fuck," he hissed as you pressed your thighs around his fingers, chasing the sensation of his touch, the feel of him filling you.

"please," the word escaped as a moan as his lips traced the line of your collarbone. "max."

his name tumbled from your lips, sounding broken and desperate and aching.

"fuck me like it means something." you weren't sure if the words you had said were a plea or an accusation.

or maybe both.

he lifted his head, meeting your gaze. for a moment, all you could see was a boy lost in a storm.

but then his lips were on yours, the kiss hard, bruising, possessive, and all your senses were knocked away.

the weight of his body pressed against yours, and his fingers intertwined with yours, pinning them to the mattress above your head. he released a ragged breath, his grip tightening on your hands.

he pulled his fingers out of you, trailing them back to himself as he aligned himself and immediately pushed into you.

a groan tore through his throat, a broken, beautiful sound that sent goosebumps down your arms. you arched your back in response, his name falling from your lips as pleasure coursed through your body, making your vision blur.

he began moving, slow and deep, and you felt like you couldn’t breathe—the pressure building, consuming, overwhelming.

everything was him. he was everywhere and also nowhere, and you wondered how he was the only thing you needed but not one thing you wanted.

max, a chant.

your fingers clung to him as he moved within you, as if the two of you would fall apart without the other.

maybe you would. maybe this was a deck of cards waiting to crash down. maybe he was a flame shining brighter than the stars, and you were a moth, ready to burn up and turn to ash.

it was chaos and peace; a hurricane wrapped in the promise of a tomorrow.

it wasn’t enough, and it never would be. it was never going to be you, and you were so fucking tired of it.

yet, here you were, begging him to make it hurt a little more.

he moved faster, the pleasure building within you, and your eyes rolled back into your head, the sight drawing a low, guttural groan from his throat, the sound reverberating through his body.

everything was becoming too much. his touch, his scent, the heat of his skin, the sounds he made, the way his name felt as it slipped past your lips.

your vision blurred, the world fading around you until there was only him.

he kissed you then, his lips claimed yours and you let him—you surrendered yourself, losing yourself to him. his grip around your hands tightened into a bruising grip.

"fuck, baby." his voice was nothing but a breath, a desperate plea, a promise. "you are so good."

he set a faster pace, and every sigh, every moan, every broken word—he drank them up, held them close.

the pressure reached higher and higher, your body aching, pleading for release. and then his name spilled from your lips in a cry, and you were gone, the world shattering around you as pleasure crashed through you like waves in a high tide.

and he was there with you, following after you, the sound of your name dripping down his lips—a symphony, a lullaby, a curse.

he slowed down, resting his head on your forehead before collapsing beside you, breathing ragged and skin slick with sweat.

but when the sweat dried and the silence crept back in, the reality creeped back like a stone in your stomach.

“this is killing me,” you said softly, the words breaking somewhere between your throat and your chest.

your eyes were trained on the white ceiling above you, and so were his.

max didn’t respond right away. when he finally did, his voice was quiet, almost broken. “maybe it’s time to stop.”

you closed your eyes, accepting his answer.

you’d always known that the fire would burn you alive. this thing between you wasn’t love. it was darker, messier—something that was tearing both of you apart piece by piece.

"it's never gonna ever be us, y'know?" he said, and it sounded almost like a confession.

it was the truth that had been staring both of you in the face since the very beginning.

"i know." you truly did, because it was a fact.

whatever this was, it was just fragments of what could have been—if only neither of you had been scared to ask for more.

but there were some things that were better left unsaid.

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cherie-doll · 8 months ago

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𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon: Missing You While They’re Away

✧˚ Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Alejandro, Phillip Graves, Keegan, König, Horangi

༉‧₊˚. (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

“Just one soft kiss is enough to move my heart. There was a time when our affection was deep, and reminiscing has made me realize how much I miss you.”

Ghost

This feeling is quite strange to him

He thought his heart would be at ease when you’ve said your goodbyes

Although he’s tried dismissing this feeling every day by reminding himself he’ll see you again

But he finds himself missing you; your touch, your comfort, your smell

A habit of his is hooking a leg over your body while in bed, that first morning he wakes up feeling empty because you’re not there

Your touch is like fire to his body that he seeks to warm his lonely nights

He yearns for it so much he cannot live without it

He would truly burn for you

Soap

Starts writing love letters to you like how Napoleon wrote for Josephine

He wakes up with you on his mind, his senses in a turmoil

Replaying the last evening and your intoxicating body scent that gives him such tranquility

Probably writes your name out a hundred times, drawling little hearts around it

If he finds a flower he’ll press it between the pages he sends you

When you send him something small of yours in return, insignificant to anyone else but an amulet to him

He wears it around his neck

Fiddling with it between his fingers

He’s prob the type to get one of those 18th century lover’s eye jewelry because to him it means having a clandestine declaration of your love

Gaz

That feeling that cannot be put into words

The feeling of walking on clouds that you have planted in his heart

He misses it so much

Your whisper with your soft smile

When he’s sitting alone he wishes he’d have you there next to him

Looking down at his hand, it feels empty, he knows exactly where your fingers intertwine with his

Your touch is so familiar to him that it feels unusual not to feel you

The words he longs to say, your name he wants to call out, the cherished place you have for him in your heart

He swears that when you reunite he’ll wrap his arms around your waist, pressing long and relentless kisses whilst murmuring “i missed you”

Alejandro

Man thinks about how he pressed lazy, slow kisses all over you, taking his sweet time memorizing your body

It’s the last thing he did right before he left

He asked for a kiss from you too before leaving, a real kiss

“Don’t be shy cariño”

He makes sure that you’ll miss him just as much as he’ll be missing you

The night before, he played slow, romantic music as he pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses trailing down your back hoping that through his lips you would feel his heart that beats wildly for you

Now whenever the song plays both you and him have that sweet memory, soothing his mind but awakening his heart

Phillip Graves

He believes that being away from one another every once in a while is beneficial

While it is truly a vivid and pleasant sensation; being enamored, so ardently in love, being everything when together and nothing at all when apart

His mind revolves around you

Anything can serve as a reminder of your fond love

A gentle wind caressing his face is like your embracement

Amid the bustling, glimpses of your smile flash through his mind, a whisper of your voice in his crowded memories

Even if he can’t hold your form; in the night sky enfolded in his closed eyes remains a trace of thoughts that are meant only for you

In this world, only you and him exist and it becomes yours in a swirling glass

Parting his lips from the brim of the glass to savor the wine makes the second drink all the more delightful

Keegan

Groaning in frustration because he can’t bury his face into your neck first thing in the morning to inhale your scent as he’s used to, you’re like a fragrance so refined

Before leaving, he took your pillowcase and a sample of your preferred perfume

He sprays it all over himself before going to sleep so he may be drenched in your aroma

If he can’t be with you in that moment, he can only hope he’ll dream of you

He’s constantly placing candy that melts on his tongue, substituting your addictive taste

He’s come to memorize your body, scent, taste, and voice through his senses

Being deprived of just one of those things is torture to him

König

You don’t know how afraid he is of something happening to you while he’s gone, or something preventing him from ever seeing you again

Your existence alone is like a dream to him

Déjà vu of some perfect gaze

Risks are scary, yet it makes his heart flutter

Late at night, his fingertips trace his lips where you’d place loving kisses

He feels how empty his lap is when you’re not sitting on it

When he closes his eyes he remembers how you cup his face in your hands and dote on him

It wasn’t until that night that he felt more lost than ever before

Horangi

To him, it was enough knowing you were his reason to go on

That lively dynamic that is created when two universes collide

It filled his void with renewed purpose, and that in itself is enough to spur the other on

That spark that ignites when you brush skin against skin, he craves it so deeply

A hunger that stirs from his loins

How your lips feel like velvet grazing his skin, your tongue dripping with honey

The intoxicating expressions of affection he wishes to give and receive

He secures these thoughts in the back of his mind, knowing he’ll act upon them when he’s with you again

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mononijikayu · 1 month ago

Text

blue — fushiguro megumi.

As you walked hand in hand through the snow, Fushiguro Megumi felt like your warmth and his blended together, refusing to part as you made your way away from the shrine. The thought of that made him feel like the winter was nothing, the biting chill rendered powerless against the steady heat of your presence. It was the kind of moment that made the world feel smaller and quieter. It was as if the universe had decided to go on a pause just for the two of you. It was as if these two hands were meant to fit because destiny said so.

GENRE: Alternate Universe - Canon Convergence;

WARNING/s: AFAB! Reader, Safe For Work (SFW), Long Distance Romance (LDR), Aged Up Characters (Megumi and Reader are 18!), Young Love, Innocent Romance, Established Relationship, Middle School Classmates to Lovers, Teasing, Teenagers, Feelings, Fluff, First Love, Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, Flirting, Humor, Domesticity, Slice of Life, Light-Hearted, Confessions, Pining, Holding Hands;

WORD COUNT: 5.3k words.

NOTE: im a bit late, i'm sorry!!! i had a whole list of chores i helped my family with and i met up with some people yesterday, since i might not see them for christmas due to schedules. but i'm here. i always imagined megumi to be the sort of person who loves so wholeheartedly and so innocently. i wanted to capture that for his birthday. happy birthday, megumi!!! you will always be so loved by me <33333 i love you all too!!! thank you for reading!!! see you for yuuji's own fic on 24th <3 (asia time)

addendum: i just want you to know that the exact number of the words are 5302. chinese/cantonese numerology expresses that 53 means my life, 0 means good and 2 means joy and sometimes double joy. it reads as 'my life is good joy' and i think between them reader and megumi, that's genuinely true <333

masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

THE DARK BLUE SWIRLED AROUND THE SKY TENDERLY TONIGHT. Had there been more time, he would have enjoyed it more. But he knew there wasn’t. He had to get to you, immediately. He bit his lip softly against the cold winter wind.

Fushiguro Megumi tugged the bright tender scarf tighter around his neck as the frigid wind bit at his cheeks. He caught a faint whiff of the fabric, and something about the scent felt... off.

It’s a good scent, don’t get him wrong. But it wasn’t the familiar one he was used to. Had he bought a new perfume and just forgotten about it?

He sighed to himself. He was too busy lately, going off on missions. And now a lot of his life had become footnotes, even if he didn’t want them to be. Megumi knew he had to do better.

He had to do whatever he could to make a better pace for himself. Still, thinking about that right now is impossible. He had to brush the thought aside. There were more pressing things to focus on—like how late he was. Again.

Megumi could only hope that you weren’t waiting too long or that you had arrived late. But now he can’t help but think if you wore that thick Arc'teryx coat he’d gotten you. Or if you wore mittens or had enough hot packs on your body at this moment. Guilt started to echo into his head as easily as it was breathing. But he can’t help but feel that.

He took a moment to breathe, his breath visible in the cold air. He hated being late about absolutely anything. He likes punctuality, after all. But he especially likes it when it comes to you.

Because that meant he’d have more time with you. And more time with you means that he’d have you with him enough to sweep the thought of missing you for a little while.

But being a sorcerer, the job description didn’t care about holidays or plans. Or even the personal, the thoughts and moments that made one happy. It just never stops. Not even when he was supposed to take you out on a date on New Year’s Eve. Megumi absolutely reviled it. If he saw a curse, he had to deal with it, no matter the time.

And somehow, some sort of way, still, he knew you understood. You always did. You always reassured him of that no matter what. No matter how many times his responsibilities pulled him away from you, even just for five minutes.

You never stopped smiling when he finally showed up. You don’t stop having the warmest red on your cheeks when you see him. Your eyes always shone brighter than Sirius when you both stand beside one another.

Even though you weren’t a sorcerer yourself, you tried to understand his world, even the parts that didn’t make sense to you at all. It wasn’t fair to you, and he knew it. Yet, no matter how hard things got, you never gave up on him. You just didn’t want to, even when he had tried to keep you at bay.

That was one of the things he appreciated most about you. Megumi had never had quite a lot of joy in his life, but he was to be honest, you were one of them. You always will be. And even now, you stand by him, even if it’s hard.

You didn’t care for the hard stuff, you always said it was part of it. Because what mattered to you, was having him in your life. And he was certain he felt the same way about you.

Well, it’s obvious.

Why else would he start running in this cold winter weather?

If it’s you, the person he loved most, then he’ll find a way?

After all, he wanted to be with you for as long as possible.

He paused for a moment, staring at the message. The small emoji made something in his chest tighten, as much as it made his body feel the warmest it had ever been. Despite everything, you still cared enough to wait for him, to worry about him. A small, rare smile tugged at his lips.

The faint vibration of his phone snapped him out of his thoughts. He fished it out of his pocket, his cold fingers fumbling slightly as he unlocked it. A text from you lit up his screen:

“Megu, baby, where are you? 🥺”

Megumi stared at his phone after hitting send, watching the little delivered mark appear. Megumi has thought about how many times he’d sent similar texts, always apologizing to you, for more often than he hoped, about being late.

He typed back quickly, his fingers stiff from the cold.

"On my way, babe. Sorry for being late."

Yet, you never seemed to hold it against him. He wished you had. Most romantic partners would be so fed up with such a position.

Hell, most of them would have already left their partners. But not you. You never had thought of it, not even during middle school, when Gojo started to take him on his missions to observe. You were steadfast, because you saw his efforts. You saw how much he loved you.

And that was enough. He never had to doubt that you loved him. And perhaps, that’s why he kept running. He wanted to get to you, as soon as possible. He wanted to see you. He wanted to hold you in his arms. He wanted to love you.

As he slipped his phone back into his pocket, Fushiguro Megumi picked up his pace. He had to. He had to arrive as soon as possible. For once, he hoped the world could hold its chaos at bay. Just for tonight. He owed you that much. He owed you all of the world. And he had to make it possible, even if just for a little while.

His phone buzzed again almost immediately.

“Okay, but you better hurry, baby! It’s cold! Also… why does your scarf smell like my perfume? 🤔”

Megumi stopped in his tracks, his brain processing your words at a glacial pace. Your perfume? His hand instinctively went to the scarf wrapped snugly around his neck. That was the weird smell he’d noticed earlier—the soft, floral notes he’d never associated with his usual scarf. His mind raced. If this was your perfume, then this wasn’t his scarf.

It’s your scarf. The realization hit him like a curse to the chest. Now, his heart was thumping hard on his chest. You must’ve grabbed his scarf by mistake in a rush the last time you visited him and you forgot about it.

And now that left him with your scarf. And he hadn’t noticed at all. His face heated to warm scarlet instantly, the cold air doing nothing to cool it. Ah, this is…..

His grip on the phone tightened as he read your words. Cute. It was hard enough to deal with how much warmth you give him with your scarf, but the thought of you being so tender with him, loving to the point that he can’t take it.

Before he could come up with a reply, another message came through:

“Wait, Megu!… Are you wearing my scarf? 🥺 That’s so cute! Wah!”

He doesn’t know what to do. Everything about his love for you just grows deeper and he can’t help it. His face burned hotter, and he was suddenly hyper-aware of the soft fabric around his neck.

He hesitated, fingers hovering over the keyboard, before typing back:

"I didn’t realize until now. I must’ve grabbed it by accident. Sorry."

Fushiguro Megumi felt like the temperature had risen ten degrees despite the snow swirling around him. He tried to clear his throat, trying to wick away the scarlet blush spreading across his cheeks. But it was no use. He was never going to win against you. Never.

Your reply came almost instantly, as though you’d been waiting for it.

“Don’t apologize! I think it’s adorable. It’s like you’re carrying a little piece of me with you 🥰.”

"It’s not a big deal." he typed, trying to sound indifferent, but his fingers betrayed him as he hesitated before adding: "It does smell nice, though."

His phone buzzed almost immediately. “You’re so sweet, Megu! You better hurry so I can see you all bundled up in my scarf. I want to take a picture and enjoy the cuteness of my baby!🫶 ”

Fushiguro Megumi let out a soft groan, burying his face in the scarf—your scarf. He takes in the soft smell of your scent, while feeling your words take over him. He could feel the heat radiating from his face as he resumed walking, this time a bit faster.

He can’t run in this case, not when he’s overwhelmed by this, by you. You’ve ruined him for any other romance. This was it for him. You were it for him. And yet still, he couldn’t believe he was blushing over a scarf. Over you.

But that’s how it is. It didn’t need explanation, it didn’t need logic. That’s how it is to love you. And he wouldn’t have it any other way. Not ever. But still, as much as possible, he still wanted to play it cool.

There was a wonderfully warm feeling in his chest that he couldn’t ignore, not when it’s caused by you. Even if it was accidental, wearing your scarf made him feel closer to you, like he was carrying a part of you with him.

"I’ll be there soon, babe." he texted back simply, though his heart was racing as he hit send.

“I look forward to it! 🫶”

“I'll see you soon.”

“Love you, Megu~”

".....love you too."

══════════════════

IT WASN’T THAT LONG NOW WHEN HE MADE THE SHARP TURN TO AND ARRIVED. The faint glow of the shrine came into view, and quite expectedly, Fushiguro Megumi’s pace quickened even more now despite the biting cold.

His own breath puffed in little warm clouds as he rounded the last corner, and there you were, just like always, waiting for him by the warm illumination of the bright red shrine gates.

You seemed to be humming to yourself as you waited for him, all bundled up in the white winter coat he gave you and those bright purple gloves trimmed with faux fur you so dearly loved. You hadn’t noticed him yet when he stopped.

But when you did, your eyes widened almost so excitedly. There was a slightly excited bounce in your step as you waved at him enthusiastically, your beautiful face lighting up like the warm spring flowers blossoming when you started to register his presence. Megumi could feel his chest tightened at the sight.

The stress of trying to get here on time, the hardship of not meeting, the times he missed you — every bit of that started to fade away into nothing. He was here with you. You were here. And nothing can take that away from him, from the two of you. Because he knew it too well. He was home.

“Megu!” you called out, your tender voice cutting through the quiet winter air.

He slowed as he approached, his usual calm demeanor taking over, but the pink sunrise on his cheeks hadn’t faded. Megumi tried to casually stuff his rather cold hands into his coat’s pockets, pretending the cold was the only reason his face felt warm.

“You’re late, Megu!” you teased, though your tone was playful, and that familiar smile spread across your face.

“Sorry.” he said quietly, stopping just a few feet away. “There was a—”

“A curse?” you finished for him, watching him blink. You grinned. “I figured. You always come anyway.”

He nodded, his gaze flickering to the shrine gates. “I told you to wait here for a reason. It’s safer.”

“I know, I know.” you said, rolling your eyes with a laugh. “I always know that I’m always safe, thanks to you. But I’m also freezing, so I hope you don’t plan to keep me standing here much longer! Let’s eat dinner!”

Your grin widened as your bright doe eyes flicked to the scarf around his neck. “Especially since it looks like you’re nice and warm in my scarf.”

Megumi’s hand immediately went to the fabric, his ears turning red. “I told you, it was an accident.” he muttered, avoiding your gaze.

“And I told you, it’s cute.” you said, stepping closer.

“You’re wearing my scarf too.” He mutters under the cold winter air.

You looked down slightly, your cheeks flushing red as you smiled. “Hm! And I love it! It suits me, having a part of you with me always when I’m cold, don’t you think?”

Megumi was taken aback by what you said for a moment. His cheeks turned even redder, even though he wasn’t sure how it was possible. He hums softly, lowering his gaze shyly. “.....It does.”

The soft crunch of snow under your boots was the only sound as you closed the distance between you. You smiled at him as you stopped in front of him. You reached up, on tip toes and gently adjusted your scarf around his neck, your fingers brushing against his skin for just a moment.

“It suits you, don’t you think?” Your soft voice blossomed against the wind. Your gaze met his, as he raised his face. “Being so loved by me in winter cold too.”

He froze, his heart skipping a beat at the gesture. “You’re—you really are…..” he mumbled, though his voice was quieter, almost fond. “How can you say that so easily?”

“And you’re blushing, lover boy!” you teased, stepping back with a playful laugh. “You also said something like that too!”

“Am not.” he replied quickly, though the redness in his cheeks betrayed him.

“Whatever you say, my precious Megu~”

You reached out and took his hand, your gloved fingers curling around his as you tugged him toward the shrine gates. You wanted to keep his hand warm from the cold too. He forgot his gloves, after all. And he knew that, his gaze turning to your tender touch on his, even though the leather.

“Come on, let’s get going before we both turn into icicles.”

For a moment, Fushiguro Megumi hesitated, looking down at your hand wrapped tightly on his own. Years together still hasn’t stopped him from being so awestruck by your touch on his.

To hold someone’s hand, it made him feel like he understood what love was like. Ever since that day he met you. You made him understand, with just a touch of your hand. And still, he continues to learn love, because of you.

Megumi shook his head then he let out a soft sigh, his lips curving into the faintest hint of a smile as he followed you.Even if he’d never admit it aloud, your warmth, your wonder, your very existence, it made him whole.

And if this was a dream, he wishes he never wakes up. Because nothing of him would exist without you. He refuses to do so.

“Hm, let’s go.”

It was the kind of moment that made the world feel smaller and quieter.

It was as if the universe had decided to go on a pause just for the two of you.

It was as if these two hands were meant to fit because destiny said so.

This, he thought, was more than enough to ground you both in the stillness of the winter night. The two of you ceased to talk for a while, your breaths forming soft clouds in the frosty air.

Neither of you felt the need to fill the silence. The quiet companionship you shared was enough, an unspoken understanding that words could never quite capture.

It was always like this with you. There was a gentle kind of closeness that didn’t demand anything more than your presence. It wasn’t loud or extravagant, but it was steady.

That was more than enough for him, to keep him grounded in a way nothing else could. Megumi didn’t have to explain himself, didn’t have to rush to fill the gaps, because you already understood. It was just like that between the two of you.

He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, noting the way the soft glow of the blue moonlight reflected off your hair and the peaceful expression on your face. A rare warmth bloomed in his chest, spreading slowly but surely, chasing away whatever lingering shadows had tried to follow him here.

Megumi’s grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly, his way of acknowledging what he couldn’t yet say aloud. This, he thought, was the kind of peace he didn’t know he needed. And for tonight, that was more than enough.

When you both arrived at the train station, the warmth of the moment lingered despite the cold metal benches and the faint whistle of the wind echoing through the platform. The faint hum of distant activity surrounded you, but it all felt muted, like the world had softened its edges just for the two of you.

You both sat down to wait for the train, your hands finally parting as you settled beside each other. Fushiguro Megumi shifted slightly, resting his elbows on his knees and looking out at the empty tracks.

The silence between you was comfortable, but you broke it, your voice cutting through the cold like the first hint of sunlight after a long night.

You looked up at him with a soft smile. “Happy birthday, Megu.”

He froze for a moment, blinking as if he hadn’t quite heard you. Slowly, he turned his head to meet your gaze, his brows furrowing slightly. “What?”

You giggled, the sound warm and light as you looked at his astonished face. “Happy birthday, I said.” you repeated, your smile widening.

His expression softened as realization washed over him. He let out a small, almost imperceptible sigh, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction. He shook his head, as you looked at his most adorable expressions, reserved only for you.

“I forgot, babe.” he admitted quietly, glancing away.

“I know, baby.” you said, your tone teasing but gentle. “You always forget. That’s why I’m here to remind you.”

He didn’t respond right away, his eyes fixed on the tracks ahead. But the faintest hint of a smile tugged at his lips, barely there but unmistakable. He turns his blue–green eyes to you, as though you were the most wondrous thing he’d ever set his blue–green eyes on.

“Thanks, babe.” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

You reached into your pocket, pulling out a small, neatly wrapped package. You always were better at wrapping presents. You had the best hands in the world, warmest to touch and the most delicate with care. And perhaps that is what made him freeze for a moment.

“And because I know you’d never ask for anything, I got you this.”

He looked at the gift, his eyes widening slightly. “You didn’t have to—”

“But I wanted to, baby.” you interrupted, holding it out to him. “It’s your birthday, Megu. You deserve to feel special, even if it’s just a little.”

He hesitated before taking the gift from your hands, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief moment. He stared at it for a few seconds, his expression unreadable, before carefully peeling back the wrapping paper.

Inside was a small, leather keychain engraved with his initials on it. Attached to it was a simple charm shaped like a wolf, a perfect reflection of his shikigami. Megumi stared at it for a moment, his fingers brushing over the smooth leather and the delicate charm. It was clear you’d put thought into this, making sure every detail would suit him.

Everything about it was just to his liking. You always knew it better than him sometimes too. Its design is sleek and understated, free from unnecessary embellishments, yet carrying so much meaning.

It was practical, simple, and deeply personal, just like him. And yet, the simplicity is what made it even more special, just like he knew he was to you.

“You… put a lot of thought into this, babe.” he said softly, his voice tinged with something unspoken, something he wasn’t entirely sure how to express.

You smiled, a faint flush rising to your cheeks. “Of course I did. I wanted it to be something you’d actually use. And… well…. I thought the wolf was a nice touch.”

“It is.” he murmured, his eyes lingering on the charm.

His shikigami were a part of him, a symbol of his strength and the weight he carried in his cursed technique. But they were something he loved too. Especially his wolves. And now, here it was, captured in this small but significant token by you. Now it meant even more. Because you gave it to him. Now, it was something he could keep with him no matter where he went.

“Do you like it?” you asked, almost shyly.

Megumi looked up at you, and though his expression remained its usual calm, there was a softness in his gaze that made your heart flutter. “I do, babe.” he said simply, but the quiet sincerity in your boyfriend’s voice spoke volumes. “Thank you.”

“I thought it could keep you company, when you’re away.” you said softly, watching him closely. “You’re always busy helping people and running around. You keep doing so much for everyone else. I wanted to give you something you could keep with you, something to remind you…”

He glanced up at you, his blue–green eyes meeting yours. “Remind me of what?”

“That you’re never really alone.” you said simply, your voice filled with quiet sincerity. “That I’m always there for you, Megu.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, his fingers tightening slightly around the keychain. Then, almost imperceptibly, he nodded. And for a moment, those rare smiles, the smiles he could only show you. You, his most precious person. That smile had trailed on his lips for a moment.

“Thank you, babe.” he said, his voice steady but laced with something deeper—gratitude, maybe, or something even more profound that he didn’t quite know how to put into words. “I’ll treasure this well, I promise.”

You smiled, leaning back against the bench as the distant sound of the approaching train reached your ears. “Happy birthday, Megu.” you said again, your tone warm and light, your words laced with genuine affection. And then, as naturally as breathing, you added, “I love you.”

The words were simple but carried a weight that made Fushiguro Megumi’s heart stutter. He froze for a moment, wide-eyed, his usual composure shattered like glass under the heat of your confession. He’d always heard you say it over and over again. And yet…..it always made him feel like he was going to drown in your wonders.

He couldn’t help but feel himself combust with your words, the warmth spreading from his chest to his ears, and then outward until he was sure he’d melt into this cold blue winter night. Before he could even begin to stammer out a response, you squeezed his hand, your smile never fading.

“Our train’s here! We gotta go!”

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he blinked, glancing at the train now pulling into the station. You tugged him forward, your fingers laced with his, as if the moment hadn’t just turned his world upside down.

Megumi let out a soft sigh, a mix of exasperation and fondness, as he let you guide him toward the train. His blue–green eyes drifted to the keychain in his hand, its wolf charm catching the dim station light, and then to the scarf around his neck.

The warmth of your scarf, still carrying your faint, comforting scent. For someone who often felt like the weight of the world rested squarely on his shoulders, tonight felt light. For tonight, everything just felt like a gift. The greatest gift in the world.

The train doors slid open with a gentle hiss, and you both stepped inside, settling into a pair of seats by the window. As the train began to move, Megumi finally found the courage to speak, his voice quieter than usual.

“You’re ridiculous, you know?” he muttered, though there was no bite in his tone.

You tilted your head, looking at him curiously. “What do you mean?”

His cheeks flushed again, and he turned his gaze to the window, watching the snow-covered scenery blur past. “You can’t just… say things like that so casually and just….watch me combust.”

“Oh, you mean when I said I love you?” you replied with a grin, clearly enjoying his reaction.

Megumi groaned, pressing a hand to his temple. “Yes. That.”

You laughed softly, leaning your head on his shoulder. “But it’s true, Megu!” you said, your voice softer now. “I do love you, truly! And I don’t see why I shouldn’t tell you over and over again.”

He was silent for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest as your words settled over him like the softest blanket. Finally, he glanced down at you, his blue–green gaze steady despite the pink still dusting his cheeks.

“…I know.” he said quietly, his voice barely audible.

And though he didn’t say it back to you, overwhelmed by the wonders of those words on his soul, you knew that look in his eyes. That look of love, that wonder in the blue–green that said those words without leaving his lips.

It was all in his eyes that said everything you needed to hear. He struggles. But he hopes one day, he could say it to you without the struggle.

You smiled to yourself, your gloves gone. You let your warm fingers still intertwine with his as the train rocked gently beneath you. He squeezed it even more and that had made you smile even more as you looked at him.

You hummed and leaned your head against his shoulder. His breath hitches before a moment later, his head resting on your own. You giggled at that.

Tonight was perfect, you thought. Just the two of you, wrapped in warmth, as the world outside continued its quiet, snowy journey. And all you could see was the tenderness of all those shades of blue. That’s what it felt like when you were with him.

Everything was worth it. The cold was worth it. And so was the parting and the waiting. As long as you get to be with him and have this feeling of blue. As long as you could see those blues in his eyes.

Everything was worth it. Everything was worth experiencing. And you knew from the depths of his heart that he felt the same way too. Blue was the wonder of being with you. And he loves it too.

══════════════════

epilogue

Later that night when you reached your house, the warmth of the entryway light spilling into the snowy night, you turned to Megumi with a thoughtful smile. He noticed the way your bright eyes sparkled.

It was a sign you were about to say something that might throw him off. He was familiar with that look since you were in middle school. But every time, he finds himself learning the depths of that mischief in your eyes.

“So…” you began, glancing up at him with a hint of mischief. “Do you want to stay over tonight?”

Fushiguro Megumi nearly tripped over his own feet. His handsome face turned a shade of red that rivaled the setting sun, and he froze in place, his free hand holding your bag for you. You can see easily that he was clutching it nervously.

“W-What?” he stammered, his voice cracking slightly. “Why—what—why would you even—?”

You couldn’t help but giggle, watching him flounder. “It’s late, Megu!” you said, your tone as calm and reasonable as ever. “The buses aren’t running anymore, and so are the trains, you know! I’d feel bad making you walk all the way back to the dorms in this cold.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but you held up a hand, cutting him off before he could get a word in. You already knew that you had a card up your sleeve. You grinned at him and giggled, taking out your phone from your coat pocket and showing it to him.

“And before you say anything about it being improper or whatever.” you added with a knowing grin, “I already asked Gojo–san if it was okay.”

Megumi’s face somehow turned even redder, and his hand shot to his temple like he was trying to ward off a headache. He looked at your phone for a moment.“You asked Gojo?”

You nodded, looking far too pleased with yourself. “Yup! He said, and I quote, ‘As long as you don’t let Megumi brood in a corner all night, I’m fine with it! Take care of my precious son, daughter in law!’”

Fushiguro Megumi groaned, running a hand down his face. What did Gojo mean precious son? And what did Gojo mean about daughter in law? That was just….

Megumi didn’t know what to do anymore. He can’t even believe Gojo gave his number to you. He couldn’t help but feel his face echo a look of a son embarrassed by his overbearing father.

“Why would you even tell him that? Now he’s never going to let me live this down.”

You laughed, tugging gently on his hand to lead him inside. “Oh, come on. He didn’t care at all. Besides I had to, he’s your guardian! He said he’d rather you stayed somewhere warm and safe than out in the cold. Besides, it’s not like we haven’t hung out late before. We’d have sleep overs before too.”

“That’s different.” he muttered, still flustered as you closed the door behind him.

“How is it different?” you teased, tilting your head at him.

He hesitated, glancing at you and then away, his ears burning. “It just… is. I just…..”

You rolled your bright doe eyes playfully and reached up to unwrap your scarf—now his own scarf—from around his neck. “Relax, Megu. It’s not a big deal. You can have the couch if it makes you feel better. Or the guest room. I don’t think my mom will mind when she comes back! She loves you too!”

He sighed, letting you take the scarf off but avoiding your gaze. “Fine, fine.” he muttered, his voice barely audible. “I’ll….I’ll sleep here tonight.”

You grinned, your victory clear. “Come on, I think I still have some of your old clothes I took from you. I’m sure they still fit you.”

“You never returned that hoodie I used to like.”

You raised a teasing brow at him. “Do you want it back?”

“No.” He says back to you, and looks at his own scarf on your neck too. “You can keep the scarf too.”

“Good. Now come on, I’ll make some hot chocolate. Consider it a bonus birthday gift.”

As you walked toward the kitchen, Fushiguro Megumi stood there for a moment as he watched you start humming, looking for the cocoa. He let out a quiet sigh, the corner of his mouth twitching upward despite himself.

He was definitely going to hear about this from Gojo Satoru later, but for now, he couldn’t bring himself to care. He was with you. And that was more than enough for him to not care about the world outside.

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maya-caffrey · 1 month ago

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Rain, Cinnamon, Cologne, and Conditioner

pairing: sirius black x reader

summary: Amortentia week is always chaotic. Especially so when you're lab partners with longtime frenemy sirius black

warnings: Language maybe, fic from reader's pov

a/n: been forever since i wrote for a marauder, lets hope this is acceptable 🙏🏻

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Although Slughorn certainly meant well, there was simply nothing that one could do to hate him a bit less during Amortentia week. Dramatic breakups preceded by "What do you MEAN you smell my sister's perfume!?", and hasty love confessions followed by immediate regret, for a spectator like me this was the best week ever at Hogwarts.

The class smelled faintly of rain and cinnamon to me, a lingering effect of the neighboring cauldrons.

"I honestly have no idea what I'm supposed to be smelling here, like, I am certain no one has smelled this exact smell before."

"James, come on, that is clearly Lavender."

"What?"

"I smell Lavender!" she said, weirdly enthusiastic about the smell.

"Lily, honey, say that again but slowly."

It took her a minute before she realized. Even the smartest people get confuddled sometimes. Of course, she'll never know what it smelled like to him.

Somewhere in the back, I saw Lucius Malfoy almost poke some poor kid's eye out with his wand, and next to his table was Severus Snape, staring menacingly into a cauldron that definitely did not have Amortentia in it. He was a weird kid. Creeps me out still.

Anyway, that brings us to Sirius and I, who couldn't agree on who gets to put the sneezewort in.

"After you," I said, not wanting to bear the brunt of what will follow. You see, Sneezewort gets its name from the fact that whenever it's added to a potion, it produces a puff of smoke that causes those closest to sneeze for a good entire minute.

"Oh, no, go ahead. I insist."

"Well, I insist more."

"I insist the most, then."

"Sirius, come on."

"Hey, you started it!"

"Well, you end it. I don't want to keep sneezing!"

"Oh, good, because it's my favorite hobby, sneezing incessantly."

There was no compromise in sight. That is, until-

"Alright Sirius, I'll tell you what. You convince Peter to do this, I'll get Marlene to go with you to Hogsmeade. For real this time."

"Please, I don't need you to be my wingman, I'm perfectly charming all on my own, thank you very much," he said, signature smirk decorating his face.

"You know you need my hel-"

"Yes I do, I was kidding, thank you so much, I love you."

I shook my head and laughed while waiting for Peter to take whatever bait Sirius was laying out. Sure, he was presumptuous and annoying, and the banter was endless, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't look forward to it every day at this point.

After Remus begrudgingly dragged a red-in-the-face Peter away from our table, we stirred the potion 3 times, and all that was left was to add the pieces of Lovelog. We added them at the same time and instinctively held our breaths and waited for the potion to turn pink, which it did. However, it didn't work.

"Dude, I smell nothing."

"Yes, thanks for pointing it out, (Y/n). Extremely astute observation. 10 points to Gryffindor."

"Oh, okay, sure, be all haughty after fucking up the potion."

"I fucked up? That's presumptuous! For all we know, you screwed up."

"Please, I used Slughorn's recipe down to the smallest detail there is no way it was me. You were the one who kept taking off to 'charm Marlene with your smile' every 5 minutes."

"Hey. I'm playing the long game and it will work. Eventually. Just- Admit that you screwed up, please?"

"Oh, no, no we are not doing this. Remus, could you come here, please?"

"Me? Oh, no, love. I am not getting involved with this," said Remus, vaguely gesturing in our general direction.

James threw a raisin-looking thing at Sirius' head to get his attention which met its mark, followed by a faint 'ow'.

"Oi dickhead! Lily says you're potion's working fine. She smells Lavender."

"Well dip me in milk and call me a cookie 'cause I cannot smell anything for the life of me over that fruity conditioner of yours," said Sirius, in an annoyingly accusatory tone that set me over the edge because well first of all fuck you. second of all-

"Oh, you're one to talk Mr I-must-use-the-entire-bottle-of-cologne. You smell like an axe showroom" Yeah, get his ass, me. "Also, I didn't use conditioner today, you pompous dick."

"Yeah? Well, get ready to feel stupid because I ran out of cologne yesterday. Ha. In your face." Wait, what?

Silence.

Contemplative silence.

A whole lot of good old silence.

Faces contorting in ways like never before as we unpack what just happened, in sweet, painful, silence.

"(Y/n) did you-"

"Uh-uh. Yep. Apparently. And you, uh,"

"Big time, yes."

"Oh, okay, so, uh, what now?"

"We could talk about it?"

Sirius Black wants to "talk it out". Yeah, we don't got this.

"Hey morons, you need to fu-"

"Yeah, thank you, Remus. We got it." "Yeah, Cheers, mate."

#sirius black x reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #sirius black fluff #fanfiction #marauders fanfiction #marauders x you #maya writes #sirius black x reader fluff #marauders x reader #marauders x reader fluff

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luvyeni · 3 months ago

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𝐀 𝐕𝐈𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐂𝐀𝐍'𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 ! ㅤ ㅤ𓂃 ㅤ박성훈

CHAPTER ELEVEN. here with you ... 「 materialist 」

ㅤ୨ৎ no one in your friend group couldn't understand why you and sunghoon stopped being friends after freshman year of college; they all chalked it up as for reasons only you and he knew about , you and sunghoon couldnt get along, and when he threatened to tell your brother something your deepest darkest secret you called him a virgin who couldn't read to your 24k fans and the name spread throughout the campus…ㅤ

𓂃 🎞️. chapter warnings. language , alcohol and marijuana usage , mentions of sex word count. 1723

after the grueling testing day; you were ready to just have fun tonight. “is your brother gonna be there?” you smiled at your friend. “don't smile at me like that, i was just asking.” you shrugged. “well he does live there, so yes.” you laughed. “the two of you couldn't be less obvious.” yeojin shook her head. “there's nothing going on between us , i swear.”

“who you fooling?” she scoffed. “hey you're the one who— we don't talk about jake , that's business.” you tossed your hair around in the mirror. “i wasn't talking about jake , i was talking about sunghoon.” you rolled your eyes. “don't start that.”

“i can't believe you two use to be together.” you stopped her. “we had sex a two times, i wouldn't say we were together.” you said. “well no , but you were the best of friends, that's what makes it much crazier.” yeojin said. “what would have happened if it not had been for mina and heeseungs first love?” you frowned. “we actually could've seen sunghoon and yn as friends.”

you knew your friends meant no harm, but you couldn't help but think about the previous conversation on the way to the party; the conversation looming over your head— what could've been? “you alright mama?” yeojin asked , pulling you out of your thoughts. “yes im fine, just thinking.” you said. “about sunghoon?” yoons eyebrows raised. “absolutely not , i'm thinking about how much im gonna drink tonight.”

“i will not be pulling your drunk body to your apartment; i will dump you on your brother's bed and leave.” you laughed, the car pulling up to the party. “i promise i won't get drunk.” you held your hand up. “let's go , sunoo is waiting inside with julie and natty.”

you guys made your way through the sweaty bodies, the smell of different perfumes and marijuana wafting throughout the air , burning your nostrils. “there they are.” the three of you made your way over to the rest of your friends. “come on.”

“you guys made it.” natty said. “sunoo thought you were gonna end up bailing.” pulling you in for a hug. “why would i do that?” pulling away with a confused glare. “because sunghoon is here and even tho you two hate each other , you still are horny for him.” julie said, you turned to natty. “she won't tell anyone i swear.” she smiled. “i won't i promise, i just like being nosey , i think you two would be pretty cute.”

“who?” you turned upon hearing your brothers voice. “no one.” jake ran over to you , hugging you. “jake i saw you 4 days ago.” you groaned. “i missed you.” you laughed. “okay , okay get off.” you pushed him , he pulled away with a toothy grin. “who would be cute?” jungwon said , turning to you. “obviously not you.” you scoffed. “asshole.” he looked you up and down. “could your dress be anymore short , the frat house down the road is here and you know they love to be touchy feely.”

“won i can handle a few drunk frat guys.” you said. “i’ll stay with her tonight, you go have fun , yoon is over there bro.” jake winked , your brothers face turning red. “gross , she's my friend.” you grabbed jake's wrist. “let's go get a drink.” he nodded. “hands above the waist sim , im watching you!”

“so how have you been?” jake asked , “it's been almost a week and i haven't heard from you.” he said. “you missed me?” you teased. “shut up you know what i mean , how can i get high without you?” he handed you a drink. “how about not getting high at all.” jay , sunoo and heeseung made their way over to you. “the two of you are frying your brains.” jay said. “sunoo your boyfriend is nagging, make him stop.” you whined. “how come you never want to smoke with me?” heeseung asked. “last time we smoked together heeseung you fell asleep in my bed , i had to sleep on the floor.”

“yeah my bad , your bed is super comfortable.” he smiled cheekily. “so since i know im getting a chance with you tonight , where's your friend at?” you rolled your eyes. “she's over there , leave her alone.” he winked , walking away. “why did you just throw your friend to the wolves?” jay asked. “hey we can't all be lonely.” you shrugged. “even if it is for a night.”

“you always have jake.” sunoo said , pointing to the man next to you. “no , what we have right now is enough.” you said. “which is?” jay asked. “nothing , completely platonic.” you said. “well enjoy celibacy, come on jay.” sunoo dragged the boy away. “let's go dance.” jake said. “fine.” he guided you to the dance floor , his hands low on your waist. “you do look good tonight.” you smiled , so unaware of the boy eyeing you from across the room.

sunghoon was hoping to ignore you tonight , he was praying that he didn't see you at all tonight — downing cup after cup to try and get you out his head. “bro you wanna slow down?” jungwon approached him. “i know you live here , but i mean alcohol poisoning is still a thing.” he didn't know what to do ; how do you explain what he was currently feeling? how could he explain it to your brother? “i'm fine.” was all he could say. “i have to use the bathroom.” he said , pulling his body off the wall , stumbling just a bit. “hoon.” he waved the boy off , making his way to the bathroom.

you and jake were like five drinks in each , both of you dancing on the floor , his hands on your waist. “when did you become such a lightweight sim.” the boy was stumbling. “am i a light weight or do you just drink too much.” both of you stumbling to a seat. “my feet hurt.” the boy whined. “of course we danced for like an hour.” you said. “i have to use the bathroom , i’ll be right back.”

making your way to the bathroom , holding on to a wall , stumbling. you finally found the bathroom but unfortunately it was locked , and with the slamming against the door , you weren't looking to wait for whoever was in there to come out.

trying to find your brother's bedroom , knowing he had a bathroom in his room , you found a door , opening it , walking in. “has his room has gotten much bigger.” you said to yourself. “that's cause it's not his room.” you heard a familiar voice , turning around to the boy sitting on the bed. “sunghoon.” you said. “im leaving.” you turned to walk out. “if you have to use the bathroom, go.” he said. “as much as i want you out , I'm not a monster.” he said , you stumbled into the bathroom. “close the door.”

you quickly did what you have to do , ready to quickly get out of there and away from the boy — walking out of the bathroom where he was still sitting there , his head low , red face; he was beyond drunk. “don't pretend to care , just go.” he said. “i never said i did care.” you said. “and i am leaving.” you turned to walk away. “i don't want to be here with you anyway.” your words slurring as you stumbled to the door.

sunghoon watched you slowly make your way to the door; your legs wobbly, he remembered when you first got drunk , you held on to the wall of his bedroom just like you were currently — he didn't know what came over him , well he did know , it was the alcohol, lord knows he wouldn't have done it sober. “stupid door.”

he wanted to stop himself , but he couldn't; the alcohol ran through his veins as he grabbed your wrist , turning you around. “what the fuck.” you yelped , his hand coming up to the back of your neck , his lips slamming into yours sloppily from the alcohol — it was hot , it was messy, it was everything you needed in your life — but it should've been with him , but you wanted it to; and that made you mad.

you pulled away ; both of you breathless. “yn-” your hand went right across his face. “don't.” you said. “this didn't happen.” before he could say anything , you were running out the door , and down the stairs , to adrenaline running through your veins letting you sober up , you had to get out of there and fast.

you looked for your friends everywhere , but they were nowhere to be found. “there you are.” jake grabbed your shoulder , gaining your attention. “whoa you look like you've just seen a ghost.” he said. “do you need another drink?” you don't know what came over you , but soon you were making another mistake , grabbing the side of jake's face , pulling him into a kiss — it didn't feel like sunghoons lips , it wasn't hot or messy like you liked , you didn't feel a spark like you did with the boy you claimed to hate.

“whoa wait yn.” he pulled away. “you know you don't want to do that.” he said. “i do.” you said , but the boy knew. “no you don't , you're drunk and would never do this sober and i would never forgive myself knowing that and still taking advantage of you.” he said , his hand caressing your cheek. “let's get you home alright? before your brother sees you like that and that's the last thing we want right?” you sighed nodding. “good girl , let's go.” he guided you out of the house.

sunghoon tried to chase after you — what would he say , three days ago he was calling you a bitch , then he kisses you; but still his legs were determined to find you , pushing through the crowds of people , until he saw your familiar dress , his eyes following your hands go up to the boy's face , kissing him.

it was like a blur; all he could see was the boy caressing your cheek , grabbing your hand guiding you out of the house , before he was right back in the kitchen drinking his body weight, drowning himself in liquor , hoping to forget; forget this night , forget kissing you , forget you kissing jake.

forget one of his best friends leaving out to do god knows what with the love of his life …

「 previous - next 」

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sincerelyengen · 3 months ago

Text

the small things ─── ingrid e.

masterlist.

the three times you wanted to kiss ingrid, and the one time you did.

content warnings: n/a

The first time you wanted to kiss Ingrid Engen:

You were always scared of Ingrid Engen. From the first look, she was certainly the mean girl type. But once you had joined her club, you had realized that was anything but the case. She specifically took a love to you, always doing the small things for you.

She would put her hand on the small of your back to guide you through a crowd or give you her jacket if you complained that it was cold, even if that meant she would be cold. All things that made you feel special and seen. The way she talked to you was so gentle and kind, never a bit of venom in her tone.

But this time, it was different. You had been over to Ingrid’s place plenty of times before, often even spending the night. And sure, she’s cooked you dinner and did all sorts of sweet things for you, but nothing like tonight.

When you knocked on the door, it was like any other night. You were welcomed into her home and settled down on the couch with her to watch a show.

You two enjoyed a meal and settled into small talk. Not having anything to drink, you found yourself thirsty.

“I’ll be right back, I’m gonna get a water.” You excused yourself, making your way to her kitchen.

As you opened her fridge to get the water out, you heard her voice call out, “I bought those drinks you liked! They’re in the door!” She called.

Your heart fluttered. Her simple gesture of purchasing something she knew you liked whenever you came over made your day. It was nothing really, something anybody would do. But from Ingrid, it was different, it was something more heartfelt.

And in that moment, all you wanted to do was run into the other room and kiss her.

The second time you wanted to kiss Ingrid Engen:

The second time you wanted to kiss Ingrid was only weeks later. You two were spending time in the city, simply walking around with each other checking out shops and enjoying each other’s presence. You two had been in several different stores, Ingrid carrying around several bags in her hands.

“We should get coffee!” She exclaimed, seeing a cute bakery coming up in her vision. You grinned and followed her lead, entering the small bakery. The wonderful scent of baked goods and freshly brewed coffee invaded your senses and gave you a sense of comfort.

You ordered a matcha latte and Ingrid ordered a caramel latte. After receiving your coffees you two sat down at a table outside and sipped your beverages in silence. You two talked a little bit, but you mostly spent your time admiring the footballer’s beauty. The way her green eyes contrasted with the dark locks that cascaded over her face made your heart flutter.

After your drinks, you guys ended up at a small candle shop. Taking time to smell each one and make comments. Ingrid had picked up a pretty purple candle, gently removing the top to take in the scent. She nodded, clearly enjoying it. “Mmm, I like this one.” She grinned.

“Yeah? Whats it smell like?” You asked, not noticing how she was staring at you with the utmost love in her eyes.

“Your perfume.” She says calmly, pointing it towards you so you can smell it as well.

Your heart skipped a beat. She said it in such a calm and sweet way as if she wasn’t thinking too much about it at all. You stuttered through your words, struggling to control the heat in your cheeks and how your stomach fluttered.

She could tell that you were struggling, grinning wide at your reaction.

And in that moment, all you wanted to do was kiss Ingrid Engen.

The third time you wanted to kiss Ingrid Engen:

Ingrid was pretty. You knew it, she knew, everybody around her knew it. It wasn’t a secret that she had women and men throwing themselves at her all the time, but she always brushed them off. You always had wished you were one of those women throwing themselves at her, and to be fair, you practically were.

You couldn’t count the number of times she had caught you staring, it wasn’t your fault, she was just gorgeous. Especially gorgeous when she stood behind you with her hands around your waist, guiding your hands cooking.

It had become a weekly tradition to come over to Ingrid’s place and cook. She loved to teach you different dishes and how to make them. Tonight, she wanted to help you make a new dish, something you had never made before. You were competent enough to cut veggies by yourself, but that didn’t stop Ingrid from standing behind you, her hands over yours, guiding you.

It was intimate.

“You’re doing so good,” She mumbled into your shoulder where her head rested comfortably.

You didn’t respond, too concerned with not making a fool of yourself. You swallowed, feeling her hands run up and down your forearms. You were beginning to doubt your belief that she would never be into you either.

At that moment, all you wanted to do was turn around and kiss her, show her how much you actually wanted her.

The one time you did kiss Ingrid Engen:

Now that you had confirmation that your silly crush on Ingrid was reciprocated, it was time to make a plan. You two had made dinner plans tonight, nothing too fancy, an Italian place you two visited often. And you knew, you were kissing her tonight.

You had shown up earlier than her, finding your table and nervously fidgeting with your fingers while you ran through every possible situation that could happen tonight.

Maybe Ingrid really wasn’t into you like that and you were delusional. Maybe this was going to go horribly and you two would never talk again. You have had your heart broken so many times before, you really didn’t want to lose Ingrid, one of your best friends.

“Earth to y/n?” You heard the unmistakable accident of your ‘date’ for the evening. Snapping out of your thoughts, you looked up and saw Ingrid.

She was drop-dead gorgeous.

Her hair flowed beautifully as always, it went great with the black dress that hugged her body perfectly.

“You’re gorgeous.” You smiled, pushing the chair across from you out with your foot, allowing her to sit down.

“You are too, hun.” She grinned, the pet name easily falling from her lips.

You blushed at that and turned your head away, a smile plastered across your face.

“How has everything been?” Ingrid asked, moving the conversation forward.

The conversation flowed well, talking about your days and upcoming things. You two had been friends forever and still had managed to never run out of things to talk about. She truly was your best friend. Dinner was ordered and you two ate in peace, laughing with each other.

Her laugh always made butterflies burst in your stomach, your heart being won over and warmed all over again.

Once the dinner was paid for and everything was done with, you walked out with her.

Under a nearby streetlight, you stood in front of her, staring into her eyes and her hands in yours.

“Can I kiss you?” You asked softly.

A blush spread over her face and that toothy grin came out. “Took you long enough.” She mumbled before leaning in.

Your lips smashed together and it was like fireworks went off, her lips were soft and the way her hand cupped your face made you feel so safe.

This was everything you were dreaming of.

#ingrid engen x reader #ingrid engen #woso writers #woso #woso x reader #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #barcelona femeni

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greenwitchfromthewoods · 4 months ago

Text

personal confessions. [1/3] l Joel Miller

Summary: you met to celebrate, but your conversation took a dangerous turn

Warnings: (+18) smut, a little bit of angst and fluff, a few beers, a few unexpected confessions, some swearing, jealousy, lust, fingering, one ex-boyfriend, Sarah mentioned, Tommy is there too

A/N: I'm not sure how this will end, because I'll probably stumble along the way. But this idea has been on my mind for a while. We like a friends-to-lovers story, right? I hope I can find the words and put them together, create something nice. I'll give it a chance.

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

"Sweet Jesus!"

He turned and moved his gaze to where Tommy was staring. At first he didn't know what his brother was talking about, only when the crowd thinned out a bit he saw a familiar silhouette. At that moment Joel knew exactly what his brother meant.

You were walking towards them dressed in a pretty black silk skirt that beautifully accentuated your curves and a top that left little to the imagination. A few men clearly looked back at you as you approached their table giving them a wonderful smile.

"Hi. Sorry to keep you waiting." you said sitting down next to Joel.

Tommy grinned at you "Nothing to apologize for. Besides - wow - you look amazing!" he noticed you were a little embarrassed "Why don't you dress like that for work?"

"That's a good reason." you replied "But today we're celebrating so I thought it would be a good idea to wear something different, right?"

"Would you like something to drink? A beer or a cocktail?" the man stood up from the table.

"Beer sounds good. Thanks."

Tommy walked away towards the bar and you looked at Joel. He hadn't said a word to you yet and you felt a little awkward. He was wearing a nice shirt and looked really good.

"So..." you started, folding your hands on the table. "Lots of work ahead of you, huh? This is a new big deal."

"Yeah, I guess so." Joel scratched the back of his neck. "I'm glad we managed to work it out with the client. You're the one to thank for that too."

"Stop it!" you laughed, placing your hand on his forearm. "You're the boss. I just sit at the desk."

"If your job is just sitting around, then you're doing a great job." He smiled, affectionately patting your hand with his. "Jack didn't mind you coming with us? He didn't want to join?"

In one second, Joel noticed how the smile fell from your face and you stiffened. He immediately sensed that something was wrong and regretted asking the question at all.

"I guess I don't really care if he would mind since we haven't been together for over a week." You replied, trying to sound much more relaxed than what your body was saying.

"Does that mean... You broke up?" You nodded "Shit! Sorry, I didn't know."

You raised a reassuring hand and plastered a small smile to your lips "That's fine. It's not really something I want to brag about, is it? People break up all the time, we just filled in the statistics."

Joel swallowed a sip of beer to hide his confusion and surprise. However, you quickly forgot about your conversation as soon as Tommy placed a beer in front of you and you immersed yourself in a discussion about his last date.

The minutes of a pleasant Friday evening passed, filled with laughter, conversation and slow sipping of cold beer. Tommy talked you into dancing with him, twice, and then disappeared to the other end of the bar when he saw some really beautiful girl. You plopped down in the chair next to Joel, feeling how hot you were.

"I guess we can cross Tommy off the attendance list now." You stated, fanning yourself with your hand and watching as the girl giggled at some of his jokes.

"I think so." Joel mumbled, reluctantly tearing his gaze away from your cleavage.

Your chest heaved as you breathed deeply, your skin glistening with sweat, and the scent of your perfume became even more intense. You were beaming, single strands of wet hair stuck to your neck, and your body relaxed.

If it weren't for the fact that he had only just started his second beer, Joel could have blamed this strange feeling on the fact that he was drunk. But he didn't feel that way.

At that moment, Joel envied his brother the ease with which he approached women. You intimidated him a little, although he really liked you.

You had been working together for some time and outside of work, you had also been on really friendly terms. Joel would be grateful for every bit of help he got from you with Sarah.

It didn't matter if it was some weird project for school, buying some clothes or just talking to him as you tried to explain what was going on with a teenage girl.

Joel loved Sarah more than life, and she adored him, but sometimes they needed a translator, and you were perfect for that.

"You should do the same thing he did." You said after a moment, and seeing Joel frowned, you laughed "What? You think you won't pick up any pretty girls here? Please!"

Joel shook his head in disbelief.

"I'm not cut out for this." He muttered, and seeing the surprise on your face, he added "I'm a single father, I work too much and I forgot how to flirt or pick up anyone. I'm out of business."

You rolled your eyes so dramatically that Joel couldn't stop laughing.

"Really?" You sneered "I've never looked at you like that."

"Because you work for me."

"But I'm also a woman, which may be hard for you to see." you were wrong, he knew that from the first moment he saw you "I always thought you were a really handsome guy, after all you just have to find someone nice. And don't hide behind "I'm a single father", because that's lame."

You both laughed. The beer you drank was pleasantly buzzing in your head, but you didn't feel drunk, just a little happier. Your nails were tapping quietly on the table top, and a smile was on your lips.

"What about you? Now that you're single again..."

You looked at him and Joel immediately noticed a shadow of sadness in your eyes.

"I'm sorry." he mumbled quickly looking down at the bottle he was turning in his hands "I don't know why I said that."

It was a lie, he knew, but he didn't want to admit it to himself yet.

"I didn't know we were bidding on each other." You replied, smiling. "I'm in." You bit your lip, thinking for a moment, then recited. "I work a lot too and my phone is glued to my hand, I dressed in my best clothes to improve my low self-esteem after the breakup, and I haven't had a real orgasm with a guy in ‘who knows how long’."

Joel choked on the last sip of his beer. It took him a moment to stop coughing, and you giggled as tears welled up in his eyes.

"I guess I won." You said.

"What did you say?" he finally choked out, hitting his chest with his clenched hand and regaining his breath.

You shrugged. "That I work too much. I once got a call from a client during a visit to the gynecologist. He was a bit surprised because we were in the middle of an examination, but..."

"I meant..."

"Oh! Ooohhhhh!" now you understood, but you shrugged again "I think there's something wrong with me, I don't know."

"What about Jack?" he asked.

"He didn't really have problems with orgasm."

You watched each other carefully, until suddenly you both burst out laughing. You hid your face in your hands.

"I'm sorry!" you groaned "It's so embarrassing!"

"It's not embarrassing, it's just...sad." Joel gently grabbed your hands and moved them away to see your face "Just... Look at yourself! Have you talked to him about this?"

"I guess I was too nice, you know. I figured that since he's a nice guy and treats me well, I can take care of the rest myself, right? And that's how it worked."

"And he never... Fuck! I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

You smiled and looked at him with some strange tenderness. "Don't worry, Joel. It's totally fine. Let's blame it on the beer."

He tilted his head and mumbled a quiet "Sure." After that, you both fell silent for a moment. Tommy had long since disappeared from your field of vision, but that didn't worry you. Eventually, you announced that you were going to the toilet and would probably slowly get home afterward.

Joel watched you as you walked through the bar, your hips swaying freely, and he noticed again how your skirt beautifully emphasized your curves. He didn't know why he couldn't get your words out of his head.

How on earth had a woman like you never experienced an orgasm with a guy? Or at least hadn't for a long time. It was beyond his comprehension. You were a beautiful, smart, and funny woman. Joel never hit on you because you were in a relationship, but he was a guy, he had eyes.

He couldn't imagine having you in his bed and never making you cum. Never to see your body tremble, to hear you moan his name, to see your chest heave as you catch your breath, your flushed cheeks. He would love to see the look in your eyes right after he brought you to climax, in every possible position. You would look so good with your legs on his shoulders or your ass in the air.

Fuck!

The twitch in his jeans meant his thoughts had wandered too far. Way too far. He shouldn't be thinking about you like that.

His eyes immediately caught the moment you appeared in range again. Some guy stopped you and you talked for a moment, smiling at him flirtatiously. A strange feeling filled Joel's chest. His body tensed, and when the guy put his hand on your shoulder, he was almost ready to go there and take you to his car.

However, you must have really wanted to go home, because soon you said goodbye and went back to the table. You didn't notice any change in Joel's behavior and he was happy about it.

"Do you need a ride?" he asked as you finished your beer.

"If it's not a problem for you, you'll save my life." you replied. "I don't like walking home alone at night."

You left the bar together, and Joel placed his hand on the lower back of yours, throwing a quick glance at the man who dared to stop you. In a strange way, he wanted to give a signal that he had nothing to count on.

The evening was pleasantly cool and it was nice to breathe in fresh air. When you reached his car, before he opened the door for you, he leaned against it, clearly struggling to say something to you. He was strangely silent the whole way and you were afraid that it was maybe because of your conversation.

"Listen..." he started, his voice low and pleasant "I don't want you to go home thinking that something is wrong with you. What you told me... It wasn't fair to you, you know."

You watched him carefully. You were silent, letting him blurt out what he wanted to say and he was grateful for it. It wasn't easy for him.

You were friends, but you were also a man and a woman. The news that you broke up with Jack opened doors in Joel's head that he had pretended not to see before.

"I would never let you... I mean. Fuck!" he hissed, scratching his neck in embarrassment "You're wonderful and you deserve everything."

A small smile appeared on your lips and your hand stroked his arm.

"Thank you for saying that, Joel." You said. "That means a lot to me. And you know what? I think you were a little too hard on yourself, because you know exactly how to talk to women. You should give yourself a chance and find someone..."

"I don't want someone." He blurted out, his tone decisive. He looked at you completely differently than before, his eyes darkening. "I want you. For a long time."

You were surprised, but you didn't have time to respond when his warm hands grabbed your cheeks and Joel moved closer to place a tender but deep kiss on your lips.

It was something that consumed you completely. The tart taste of beer and mint gum first made itself felt on your lips, and when you parted them, his tongue slipped deeper. The warmth of his body was transferred to yours. You hesitantly placed your hands on his waist, but he only deepened the kiss, extracting a muffled sigh from your throat.

Fuck! He could go crazy if he heard it more often. But he wanted to listen to it for hours.

Your perfume, the way you clung to him, the way you kissed him back, your hands on his body... Joel had to stop so he wouldn't bend you over the hood of his car and take you in the parking lot.

"I'm sorry..." he whispered "I don't know what got into me."

"Don't apologize if you don't mean it." you replied "That was really...good."

He smiled the way you loved it, small wrinkles appearing around his eyes as they sparkled. "If you let me, I'll make you feel really good."

It was bold and unexpected. Joel immediately thought that this time he had gone too far. After all, you had recently broken up with your boyfriend, and he acted like he was just waiting to get into your panties and...

"I think that's an interesting offer." If he hadn't seen your lips moving, he would never have believed you had said that.

He opened the car door and you got in, feeling like your muscles were giving up on you. Maybe it was stupid and unwise, but you didn't want to think about it. You left your common sense at the door and when you felt Joel's lips on you again, you just wanted to lose yourself in this guy.

He kissed you like his life depended on it, hard and insistent. His hands were everywhere, but you weren't shy either. When you slid your fingers into his hair and pulled them slightly, a muffled groan escaped from the depths of his chest.

"Sounds good." You giggled, breaking away from his lips that were thirsty for you for a moment.

"I want to hear what you have inside you, baby." He replied as he slid his hand under your skirt, then followed the inside of your thigh to your hot center.

Brown eyes looked at you carefully, ready to catch the slightest grimace that would indicate your discomfort. The last thing Joel wanted was for you to feel bad and uncomfortable with him. But he didn't see anything like that in your eyes as his fingers slid over your covered pussy.

"Will you let me?" You nodded slightly.

At that moment, you would have let him do anything. Joel had stunned you. You couldn't think rationally, you just wanted to feel him by your side, on you, inside you. It didn't matter how or where. He was the only one that mattered to you. You didn't want to be rational anymore. You followed him and wanted what he promised to give you.

Besides, it was Joel. You knew him, you trusted him, you were friends and you really had a strange weakness for him.

His hand pressed tightly and slid over your pussy, your legs spread apart unconsciously. Joel's lips kissed your neck and you closed your eyes, tightening your fingers on his shoulder as he pulled your panties aside and you felt his fingers on your skin.

"So wet..." he whispered in your ear, his hot breath tickling your neck "You must be very thirsty, but don't worry, baby. I'll give you what you deserve."

He pressed his lips against yours, stifling your sigh as he pushed two fingers inside you. Your body tensed at the sudden feeling of stretching, but soon a pleasant feeling flooded your lower abdomen.

Joel's fingers were long and filled you perfectly, he moved steadily, but he slid them all the way to your knuckles, which made him reach your g-spot perfectly. You tightened your fingers around his wrist, but he didn't stop.

"I know, I know, baby. You take them so well." he whispered, kissing your temple and looking between your spread thighs.

His hand was already wet with your juices, and the thought of what it would be like to have his cock inside you made him even harder. Sweet moans escaped your throat. You were so close, and he hadn't seen anything more beautiful than you in that moment in a long time.

"Shush." he whispered as he added a third finger, and you moaned louder "You're so beautiful, you know that? You deserve it, so take it... Let it go, baby. I'm holding you."

"Joel..." you whispered.

Fuck!

He already knew he'd never forget how his name sounded in your mouth when you reached your peak. But he had to help you.

His fingers hit into you harder and faster, you found his lips and pressed yourself against them the moment it happened. Your body quivered hard, and Joel felt your walls almost swallow his fingers. You hid your face in his neck, moaning quietly and trying to catch your breath.

"God, if you only knew how beautiful you are when you cum..."

He didn't expect that he actually said those words, but he had to, because you stroked his cheek tenderly.

"Fuck, Joel..." you lifted your head and looked at him with such a dreamy gaze that he got lost in your eyes "You have talented hands."

You both burst out laughing. He leaned down and kissed you, this time much more gently, with tenderness.

"Maybe..." you started as his hand stroked your thigh. "Maybe we can go to my place and see how many more talents you have inside you, huh? The night is still young."

"Do you want that? I don't want you to think that..."

Suddenly your hand slid over his bulge and Joel closed his eyes at the friction.

"We both want that, don't we?"

Another kiss before the car engine started and you headed towards your house. It felt good. He had his hand on your thigh, smelled your scent on himself, your kisses still so fresh on his lips. He knew he was imagining too much, but he thought he could get used to it. To you in his life, so fully.

However, when you stopped in front of your house something changed.

"What the hell?" you hissed, leaning out and looking at the car standing by the curb.

"What’s wrong?"

"It's Jack's car." you mumbled, and when Joel parked you quickly got out.

At the same moment a man got out of the other car, the bouquet of roses in his hands looked impressive. Joel felt something heavy drop to his stomach.

Jack approached you, noticed Joel in the car and nodded to greet him, and then started to say something. Joel didn't hear him, but he saw how you wrap your arms around yourself, clearly surprised and tense. You looked in his direction a few times like a scared animal, until finally Joel was the one who made the decision.

He started the car and drove home, leaving you with Jack and the bouquet of roses.

[part 2]

☆☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

#joel miller #pedro pascal #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader

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