#i do love having glittery eyelids but

[theroseempress]

just put on glitter eyeshadow, now taking bets on how long until my entire face is glitter eyeshadow

[lovecla]

TAKE YOUR PAIN AWAY | quinn hughes.

chapter twelve:

<last chapter> <next chapter>

➴ chapter warnings: shitty family.

➴ word count: 4.7k

💌 from me to you: have a nice reading loves <3

౨ৎ

2024, JUNE.

“I HATE just looking at it,” you say, making Victoria laugh. “I mean, I really liked it at first but now it makes me sick.”

It was finally the day of your mom’s retirement gala, and all you wanted to do was stay at home with Quinn and Bella, watching a movie and drinking wine.

But you had made a promise, and hell would freeze before you break one. If your mom wanted you there, you would be there, even if the thought of putting on that dress made you want to puke all over it.

“I mean, you don’t have to wear it…” Victoria says, sounding mischievous. You raise your brow at her.

“What do you mean?” You laugh, closing your eyes as the makeup artist your mom had sent to your house spread the glittery eyeshadow over your eyelids. “I just told you, my mom bought this last month and basically demanded I wear it.”

“But she’s not here, is she?” She asks, looking around the packed room, full of people: the makeup artist, the hair stylist and the girl responsible for your clothes. They all stared at you scaredly, probably not wanting to piss off your mom, the great, famous Jessica Carter. “I don’t see her.”

You sigh. “Victoria—”

“I brought you something else. And if you don’t like it, then you can wear that one your mom bought you.” She grabs a huge, ginormous bag, placing it carefully on the bed. You ask her to open it, since you couldn’t, and she does as you say.

The most beautiful orange dress you had ever seen lays on your bed and you smile at Victoria, finally happy with going to the dinner. If it was going to be the last time you saw your family, then at least you’d look great.

“Isn’t it so beautiful?” She smiles, carefully running her fingers through the dress’ fabric. “I immediately thought of you when one of our designers costum-made this.”

“It’s gorgeous,” you say, imagining yourself inside that dress.

It’d for sure piss your mom off, but at this point, you had already understood that anything you did would eventually make her upset.

This last week has been both a dream and a nightmare. Quinn stayed with you for two days before he had to travel for work again, and it’d been like a fantasy: he would wake up earlier than you, cook you a healthy breakfast, and help you eat; bite after bite, praise after praise, kiss after kiss, he helped you restart your eating routine again.

After throwing all of your pills— and your prescription— away, he tried his best to be with you, even during the hardest moments, when your body would have some kind of withdrawal, with persistent headaches, nausea and extreme fatigue. He took care of you so well, like no one had done before, and it only made you realize how deep your love for him was.

“So it’s settled, then,” Victoria calls the other two girls standing in the corner of your room, asking them to help you get dressed.

The dress was long, so long it occupied the entire room, and you were sure that if Bella wasn’t already at Mrs. Fernandez home, she’d be lost between the orange fabric, even if she was a big girl herself. The corset squeezed your chest lightly, nothing like the dress your mom had bought for you, and your white heels held your feet comfortably.

While you got your hair done, you stared at your phone’s screen, tuning out of Victoria’s yapping session and thinking of Quinn, and if he was well. Now that you had confessed to yourself— and Quinn— that you wanted, needed him, it seemed like spending time away from him hurt you more and more.

He had texted you earlier that day, saying that he missed you a lot, and asked for pictures of the things you ate during the day, making you roll your eyes and blush at the same time, not holding back the smile plastered on your face.

Even if you feared for what your mom could do once she realized that you would do everything in your power to stop yourself from submitting to her absurd, evil requests, you could now see that you weren’t alone, and you would never be, as long as the Hughes walked on the same planet as you.

Which reminded you that you had to call Luke and apologize to him, because even though it had hurt you to hear the things he’d said, you knew that part of your awakening was thanks to him, and for that you’ll forever be grateful.

“Okay, let’s go get you inside that car,” Victoria says before you manage to get up, trying to move around with all that fabric around you.

Getting to the event had been a lot harder than expected. You had worn bigger, larger dresses before, much weirder than the one you’re wearing right now, but you had the right transport for it. Right now, the only car you had was a limousine and you had to make it work.

You felt like Cinderella inside the pumpkin carriage, but you preferred walking around with this amount of fabric than putting on that dress that your mom had chosen for you.

The cameras were all directed at you as soon as you walked out of the car and got to the red carpet. People were shouting your name here and there, and since it’s been a while since the last time you actually went to a public event like this, your head was starting to get dizzy with all the overwhelming attention.

You smiled at the pictures, but didn’t go to any of the interviewers— you weren’t in the mood for questions, and even though people expected you to talk with them, you just weren’t feeling comfortable.

You walked inside after posing for some more pictures, feeling a rush of anxiety run through your body, because you knew you were about to face your mother’s wrath. But Quinn and Victoria were right. You had to stop this abusive, toxic cycle between the two of you.

Even though sometimes it was hard to remind yourself that you’re not the one in the wrong in this.

You greeted some of the other celebrities there, the space filled with people who had once worked with your mom too. It hadn’t been hard to find her, of course. All Jessica Carter ever wants is the spotlight on her, so when you found her talking to Kirk Pickersgill and Stephen Wong, the founders of Greta Constantine, you knew exactly what you had to do.

“My, oh my, aren’t you a beautiful sight?” Kirk smiles at you, giving you a brief kiss on your cheek, making you smile at him. “Look at this dress, Wong, look at her!”

“It’s a beautiful dress indeed,” Stephen agrees, holding his hands together behind his back.

“Great choice, my love,” your mom says, and your smile falters for just a second, enough for your mom to understand that you had picked up on her subtle message. “Is that Versace?”

“No,” you say, patting your skirt. “It’s custom-made Rami Kadi, actually.”

“So beautiful, Madison, I just know you’re going to blow people’s minds with this one,” Wong smiles at you and before you can answer, Kirk whistles while looking at his phone.

“She already did,” he laughs, and you frown at him, confused.

“What do you mean?” you ask, and he flips his phone, showing you his phone screen.

“You’re trending on Twitter, babe,” he eagerly says, and Wong gasps beside him. “People are crazy over you. And your dress. If you ever think of leaving La Vie en Rose just know that there’s always a place for you at Greta.”

Wong shakes his head. “We’d love to have you there.”

“Well, unfortunately, she’s going back to Los Angeles in a few months, so I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” your mom jumps in, wrapping her hands affectionately around your shoulders and smiling at the two men in front of you. “And, oh my, look at the time,” she fake sighs, looking at the watch on her wrist. “We better get going if we want to eat dinner before my speech.”

Wong and Pickersgill nod awkwardly in front of you, leaving after giving you another kiss on the cheek and walking their way to their table. You walk with your mom by your side, both with fake smiles plastered on your faces, greeting people on your way to your table. You could tell she was upset by the fact that people were complimenting you and your dress, but you kept your chin up either way.

By the side of the table reserved for you and your family stood your dad and your brother, both wearing expensive tuxedos and looking like twins. You nodded at them, watching as the same fake smile that decorated your face, decorated theirs as well.

“Madison,” your dad says, his smile getting wider when he notices the photographer behind you. “You look well.”

Well wasn’t exactly the word you’d use to describe yourself at the moment, but you smiled nonetheless.

“Can I get a family picture?” The photographer asks, and you all quickly move so he can get a picture of all four of you together, smiling like you were the most perfect family in the entire world, just like your parents wanted people to believe. “Nice, nice, thank you.”

“Why aren’t you wearing the dress I chose for you?” Your mom hisses through her teeth, not letting her smile fall from her face.

“I didn’t like it,” you simply say, even if it weren’t entirely true. But every time you look at the expensive, black dress inside your closet, you remind yourself of the awful month you didn’t eat just so you could look good in a dress you didn’t even like that much, just for your mom to finally love you. “Victoria chose this one for me instead.”

“This is unacceptable,” she fake laughs, pretending that the conversation she was having with you was nothing more than a cute, loving mom and daughter moment. “It’s ridiculous—”

“You look gorgeous, baby.”

You and your family turned your head to the side, watching as Quinn stood there, looking close to perfect with his black two piece suit and slicked back hair.

Your face lit up like the Fourth of July, and you smiled at him, blushing with his compliment. “Quinn.”

“Hi, baby,” he smiles at you, stepping closer. “Mr. and Mrs. Carter,” he nods at your parents. “Peter.”

Your brother extends your hand at him, and so does your dad, but it’s clear that they’re uncomfortable. Not as much as your mom, though, who looked like those angry cartoon characters.

“It’s nice to see you, but what are you doing here?” She hisses. “Haven’t you both done enough already? People are talking and taking pictures of you, you must be all over social media by now, what are you—”

“With all due respect, ma���am,” Quinn wraps his hands around your waist, holding you close to him, in front of everyone. The smile on your lips couldn’t get any bigger. “What Madison and I do is none of your business.”

“Watch it, boy. You’re talking to my wife, and you know who I am.” You dad says, smiling afterwards to prevent people from thinking that he was anything other than the perfect father.

“I’m not a boy and frankly, James, we both know that if I were to care about your opinion, I wouldn’t be the Canucks’ captain today.”

Your dad’s face gets red with anger but he doesn’t say anything, choosing to stay quiet for once.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, smiling at how Quinn frowned at your dress, because he couldn’t sit closer to you with that much fabric around you.

“Victoria helped me out,” he smirks. “Did you really think I’d let you come here alone?”

You roll your eyes, smiling still. “You’ve never been to a fashion dinner before. And I’m used to coming alone,” you shrug. “You’re aware that people will… know. Right?”

“I don’t mind it. Do you?”

You looked at him with shiny, happy eyes, before kissing his lips softly and gently, right there, for everyone— your parents and your brother included— to see. Quinn kissed you back just as gently, holding the back of your neck carefully, not wanting to ruin any of your clothing or makeup or hair.

It felt nice not to care for once in your life.

౨ৎ

maddiecarter_updates

Vancouver, BC

liked by nickharris_img and others.

maddiecarter_updates Madison has arrived at her mom’s (Jessica Carter) retirement gala at Fashion, in Vancouver 😍 She looks absolutely amazing! (edit: @nickharris_img liked!!)

View all 81 comments

user1 MY WIFE RIGHT THERE

user2 i still prefer the pink dress she wore at the Cannes festival but this one also eaaaats

user3 looking like a goddess omg i need her

user4 why is no one talking about quinn hughes being there AND the pictures they took of the two of them together????

maddiecarter_updates user4 As we always say, we like to respect Madison’s privacy. If she’s dating Quinn Hughes, then we will wait until she confirms it. We can’t assume things just because we’ve seen pictures so let’s just respect her time and privacy ☺️

user5 she looks so damn fine

user6 the event ended a few hours ago does anyone know why she hadn’t posted anything about it yet???

user7 user6 i was just wondering the same thing bc she usually posts pictures immediately after 💭

_quinnhughes

Vancouver, BC

liked by jackhughes, canucks, vic.alonso and 381,991 others.

_quinnhughes

View all 1,209 comments

madisoncarter i love you

user1 NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

maddiecarter_updates ????? ok

maddiecarter_updates Now we’re allowed to freak out 🙈

user2 maddiecarter_updates OANSOWNXOANALS

user3 maddiecarter_updates LAKAKANAMD!./!!/!/!:!;

user4 maddiecarter_updates SHSKDMDKIWWOOWKKFBN_._.__.\

maddiecarter_updates user2 user3 user4 oh-

bboeser Ouuhuu 😎😎😜😜

canucks She would look gorgeous in blue 💙

njdevils canucks No she wouldn’t ❤️

user5 njdevils ???😭😭 Help

user6 Average no caption Hughes post

jackhughes …why was i the last one to know about this

conor.garland8 Oh captain my captain

౨ৎ

“THOSE PLATES aren’t going to get any straighter, baby,” Quinn laughs behind you, bringing your body closer to his with his hands on your waist.

You bite your lip, feeling his warm hands all over your tummy. “Stop trying to distract me, you’re supposed to be taking care of the food.”

“My bad, I thought you were the food.” He says, before plastering a wet, loud kiss on your cheek.

“Quinn, stop! Your family’s going to be here at any second, and I don’t want them to find you with your hand on my boobs.” you laugh, slapping his hand away.

“I wasn’t even going to do that, but fine,” he mumbles before turning you around, making you face him. “You don’t have to be nervous, baby. They’ve known you for literally half of your life.”

“Yeah, but I was just a friend. And now I’m dating you.”

He raises his eyebrow, a playful chuckle leaving his lips. “Oh? We’re dating? Since when?”

“You know what I mean,” you feel your cheeks getting warm. “It’s going to be weird. Especially with how I left things with Luke that night,” you cover your face with your hands, sighting. “God, I hope he doesn’t hate me.”

“What did I say about always thinking the worst about everything?” he removes your hands from your face, kissing them afterwards. “And I know Lukey probably acted like a douchebag that night, too. He isn’t exactly the most tender person ever.”

“Still, he was right,” you kiss his cheeks, detaching yourself from his hold before looking at the dinner table again. “Hope he forgives me.”

“He will, sweets, I promise.”

It was almost the end of June, and you had just started taking care of yourself again. Quinn suggested that you should see a professional, to help you deal with the hardest days, and that’s exactly what you did. You have meetings with a therapist called Emma once a week, and even though you feel like nothing’s changed yet, it’s nice to have someone else to talk to, and not worry about whether you’re dumping your problems on them or not.

You and Quinn were also doing fine, baby steps helping you both find your path together. You still had your doubts, and even though you wanted to ruin away sometimes and never look back, you knew you’d always end up coming back to him.

You hoped and prayed everyday that you’d get to be the one who’s going to keep him for life.

The doorbell rang and Bella ran to the door, Quinn right behind her, while you tried to unwrinkle your dress for the nth time.

It’s fine, you kept telling yourself, They’ve known you since you were a child, you’ll be fine.

“Maddie,” you hear Jack’s loud voice before you turn around, smiling when you feel his arms around you. “Hey.”

“Hey, Rowdy,” you kiss his cheek. “How are you?”

“I’m fine. It’s summer, fucking finally.” He groans, letting go of you and making his way to the kitchen, talking about grabbing a beer for himself.

You stare at Ellen, Jim and Luke as they all hug Quinn and pet Bella, before moving back to you.

“Hi, there, darling. You look stunning,” Ellen hugs you tight, her blonde hair touching your face. “Thanks for having us. We missed you and Quinny.”

“Hi,” Jim briefly hugs you, looking like he always did: shy.

“Hello, Mr. Hughes,” you smile. “I’ve missed you too.”

As they ramble about not seeing both of you enough, you stare at Luke, who’s been petting Bella for too long already. He notices you and finally gets up, walking until he stood in front of you, the little boy who once had been smaller than you and got in trouble for cursing too much and was now a man, inches taller than you, thighs bigger than your head.

“Hey.” You whisper, and he timidly smiles at you, not showing his teeth.

“Hey.”

You both stood there, silent for a while, the only sound coming from the kitchen where Ellen seemed to yell at Quinn for something while Jack laughed.

“How are you doing?” You ask, not sure of how you’d apologize to him without sounding like an idiot.

“I’m fine,” he shrugs, not looking at you. “How about y—”

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, interrupting him. “I’m so sorry about the things I said to you the last time we saw each other and I’m sorry for acting the way I did. I never meant to upset you, it was just hard for me to hear those things.”

He places his hand on your shoulder, patting you there twice. “It’s fine, Maddie. I should’ve known better. Those types of things aren’t meant to be said at a party, right after you tell me you have feelings for my brother.”

“Still. You were just trying to help me and I— I was a little shit. Sorry.”

He laughs.

“Don’t give yourself this much credit, M. You’re not the seven headed monster you think you are,” he winks at you, before moving to Quinn’s kitchen with Bella between his legs. You sighed, scrunching your nose at her. Maybe you weren’t the only one with a soft side for the Hughes.

“I don’t care if it’s important or not, Jack, you won’t use your phone during lunch time.” Ellen orders around, sitting on the table before pouring herself a generous amount of red wine.

“Mom, I’m not a child anymore and this is important.” Jack pouts, making you laugh softly, while you sit down on the chair between him and Luke. “It’s not funny, Madison.”

“Leave her out of this,” Ellen protests, pointing at him. “No phones during lunch time. What’s so hard for you to understand?”

“Look at dad!” Jack points at Jim, who stopped texting and placed his phone back on the table.

“Jim, don’t piss me off or I swear to God—”

“Food’s ready,” Quinn mumbles before placing a huge pot of homemade pasta and tomato sauce, with meatballs and a Greek salad— cucumbers, tomatoes, feta cheese and olives— to accompany the main dish.

While you helped everyone serve themselves, you noticed Quinn’s eyes on you, and he was the one who put food on your plate. He knew that eating big portions was still an issue for you, so he was careful with putting the right amount of food onto your plate.

You smile at him, not before saying “thank you” and grabbing your first bite, almost melting like you always did whenever Quinn cooked.

You watched as they chatted about literally everything, with Jim and Ellen asking about their lives and Luke and Jack bickering with each other while Quinn looked at them with a tired face.

“So, Madison,” Luke starts, interrupting an argument between Jack and Quinn about who would win the Stanley Cup next season. “Have you thought about what you’re going to say at the ‘Power Play for a Cause’?”

“Heh,” Jack laughs. “PP for a cause. That’s what she said.”

Jim lets out a loud laugh before Ellen coughs, glazing at him.

He stops lauhging. “Son, you’re not funny,” Jim sighs, stuffing his mouth with pasta. “Shut up, please.”

You smile, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“You didn’t tell her?” Ellen asks and Quinn shrugs.

“Madison has a lot on her plate right now, the last thing she needs is a Hockey themed gala.”

“But what is it?” You ask, now curious.

Luke coughs before continuing:

“‘Power Play for a Cause’ is the name of next month's charity dinner the NHL’s holding,” he explains. “And it’s basically to raise money for sick kids and shit.”

“Luke.” Ellen reprimands him and he apologizes, after rolling his eyes.

“But why would I need to say something?” You ask, still as lost as a blind person during a shooting.

“Well,” he smiles. “Some of the teams' captains receive a speech, and Quinn will be one of them this year. We were going to ask our little cousin Julie to do this but she’ll probably blackmail us into buying her thousands of dollars worth of money in video games.”

“I recognise a future scammer when I see one.” Jack mumbles, making you all laugh.

“I mean…” you start, looking at Quinn across the table, who looks at you with expectant eyes. “If Quinn doesn’t mind, I want to do it.”

“I don’t mind it at all, baby,” he says, like calling you ‘baby’ in front of his family wasn’t anything new. “If you feel comfortable with doing it, then it’s fine. If you don’t, then it’s also fine.”

“Of course I am,” you smile at him, as he winks at you.

You then realize that everyone went quiet, even Bella, that must have sensed something was up because she sat beside your chair and was eyeing everyone suspiciously. Your face burned with shame and you silently pleaded to Quinn do something.

Which he did, coughing and scratching his eyebrow with his middle finger.

“This is probably a good time to tell you that Madison and I are together.” He says, before looking you in the eye again.

“Thanks for stating the obvious,” Luke says, before he lets out an ouch sound, looking at Ellen with annoyed eyes.

“That’s great news, baby!” She says, resting her head on Jim’s shoulder. “We always knew you both would end up with each other.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Jim agrees. “When you both would spend hours alone together doing nothing we always thought that you were doing naughty stuff.”

If your face could get any hotter, it would melt. Jack and Luke’s laughter wasn't helpful either, while Quinn just smiled and mouthed a small sorry at you.

“We were kids, Mr. Hughes,” you say, and he laughs.

“Cut it with Mr., it’s either Jim or dad now,” he squints, making you smile. “Also, what’s the matter? We caught Jack kissing his school friend when he was seven.”

“What can I say, I’ve always been irresistible,” Jack smirks, the cocky tone making you roll your eyes. “Gotta start young.”

“You’re such a fuckboy, Jacky, that’s nasty,” Ellen says, the curse word surprising all of you, making you burst out into laughter in front of them.

You couldn’t explain how happy they made you, even if you tried. It isn’t something usual, loving your boyfriend’s family as much as you do, but you’re happy to be the exception.

The rest of the lunch went on without any more smarty remarks from Luke or Jack, and you were sure you hadn’t laughed this much before, ever. They worked so well together and the love they felt for each other was so deep you could almost touch it with your own hands.

They treated you so well, making sure you had everything you needed and not letting you feel excluded for even the briefest second. They also understood your love for Bella and how important she is to you, so Luke spent the entire afternoon patting her fur and playing with her, complaining loudly whenever she took the carrot plushie— her favorite toy, you told him— out of his hands, running around Quinn’s living room with it.

When they started saying their goodbyes, many, many hours later, you held each and every one of them tightly, trying to trespass your gratitude for them like that, since saying things like “I love you” are still hard for you.

And with how they hugged you back just as fiercely, you were almost sure they understood what you wanted to tell them.

“Is Quinn treating you well?” Ellen quietly asks you, as you both stand on Quinn’s porch and watch the four men you both loved so much argue about who should drive the car.

You smile, nodding with your head. “Yes, ma’am, he is.” you giggle at her annoyed face with the “ma’am”. “ I just— thank you so much for everything.”

“You don’t need to thank me, love. You know I’ve always had a soft spot for you.”

You can feel the tears forming in your eyes, and you blink fast, trying to send them away. But with the way Ellen's smile saddens and how she wraps her arms around you, you could tell she saw them.

“They’re happy tears, I promise,” you try to reassure her, not wanting her to see the storm happening inside you.

“It’s okay if they aren’t, Madison,” she whispers. “We all need time to heal and I truly hope we can help you get through the hard days.”

“You already do, all of you,” wiping your tears away, you smiled at her. “Especially him,” you point at Quinn with your head, who was now leaning against the car with his hands in his pocket and Bella by his side. “It’s so weird to explain, Ellen. It’s like— it’s almost as if he takes all of my pain away. Isn’t that weird?”

She chuckles beside you, putting a strand of your hair behind your ear. “No, dear, it isn’t. And I’m glad to hear this. It means Jim and I did a great job.”

“Oh, you both outdid every parent on this planet.”

“Mom, can we go? ‘M tired,” Jack shouts at Ellen, pouting like a three year old child.

Ellen rolls her eyes and sighs, hugging you one last time.

“And the Hughes are back at it.” You joke, making her laugh.

She’s in the middle of walking down the steps to meet them at the car when she suddenly stops, turning back around. You were ready to ask her if she’d forgotten anything when she suddenly speaks:

“I know it’s soon but,” she tells you, her blue eyes softening as she continues speaking. “You can be a Hughes too. If you want.”

This time you don’t do anything to hide the tears rolling down your face, letting them roll freely on your cheeks, before hitting the wooden floor you were standing on.

You can’t really speak, so you just smile at her, hoping she wouldn’t mistake your silence for anything else. It was just overwhelming to know that there are people who love you enough to willingly want you in their family, when your own didn’t even care about your well-being.

You watched as they all said their goodbyes to Quinn, hugging him and saying something to him that you couldn’t hear.

Quinn and Bella walked back at you, and he frowned when he saw your tear stained face. “What happened, baby? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you tell him, walking to him and standing on your tiptoes before kissing his lips gently. “I just love you.”

You could tell that you caught him by surprise. You had never told him that you loved him before, even after years together. But you just needed to tell him how you felt, and even though the word “love” didn’t seem to explain all of your feelings for him, you would use it anyway.

“I love you too, baby,” he smiles, his curls falling over his face, making you touch his hair carefully. “So much.”

“Thank you,” you say, trying your hardest not to cry again. “For not giving up on me. And for making me feel like myself again.”

“That was all you, baby.”

You both get inside after sharing another kiss, and at night, when you sleep between Quinn and his hundred pillows, nestled safe inside his arms, with Bella sleeping safely by your feet in her bed, you are sure that, even if you still think that you’re not good enough for Quinn, he sure as hell is more than enough for you.

౨ৎ

liked by vic_alonso, partynextdoor, nhl and 789,913 others

madisoncarter yesterday 🤍 _quinnhughes

View all 1,982 comments

user1 i NEED to know where the dress is from Maddie help a girl out 😔

madisoncarter user1 dress is from rami kadi (custom made) 😙

lavieenrose Most beautiful couple ever!!

vic_alonso Gotta say whoever gave you that dress is the smartest person alive

madisoncarter vic_alonso let’s not exaggerate…

maddiecarter_updates So gorgeous love 🧡

user4 this is the most random couple ever but they do look good together

elblue6 😱😱

canucks The couple we didn’t know we needed until now 💙

user5 BABY YOU LOOKED AMAZING

౨ৎ

taglist: @hischierswhore @ru-kru @alwaysclassyeagle @he6rtshaker @nope-i-am-done @nngkay @urthem00n 🤎

[leahsgf]

DRUNK IN LOVE - leah williamson

leah williamson x reader

your girlfriend will always be there to look after you, even when you’re drunk.

the blaring noise of her ringtone startled leah awake, causing her to jolt up from her slumped position on the sofa - and groan slightly as she registered the time before she accepted the call.

she had been sat waiting for this for most of the night, after you’d made last minute plans for a rare night out with your best friends, despite your insistence that you’d make your own way back and that she didn’t need to wait up.

“leah? oh thank god, hi! this is y/n’s friend, i’m so sorry it’s so late. would it be alright if you could come and get her? she’s refusing to get in a taxi and only wants you.”

the familiar voice of your friend was slurred slightly as she rambled almost wincingly loud down the phone - the initial shock for leah of it not being you who spoke wearing off quickly as she got ready to leave.

“yeah of course, tell her i’m on my way, thank you for calling me.”

after hanging up, she quickly darted around the room, grabbing her keys and one of her hoodies for you just incase, before heading to her car.

the drive to the club that you had found yourself at was thankfully a relatively short one, and she soon found herself pulled up outside of the building, chuckling as she saw you, stumbling slightly as your equally drunk friends attempted to keep you upright - attempted being the key word.

as entertaining as just watching was, leah hopped out of the car and made her way over to you before you ended up part of a pile on the floor.

“hi pretty girl, have you had a good time?” she grinned, wrapping an arm around your waist protectively before leaning down to press a sweet kiss to your lips.

the taste of alcohol lingered on your lips, a mixture of the various shots and fruity concoctions you’d consumed, and your eyes were heavy, eyelids drooping as a buzzed grin was plastered on your face, only widening in response to her presence.

“look it’s my leah!” you gasped against her lips, giggling even as your friend finally released her hold on you, causing you to stumble further into your girlfriend’s chest, and in turn, her hands to grasp your hips to steady you.

you were wearing possibly the shortest glittery black dress known to man, which clung to your curves in a way that in any other circumstance would drive leah crazy, especially paired with it’s plunging neckline that left very little to the imagination.

your heels matched, and didn’t help the whole ‘keeping you stood up’ situation, with you being clumsy enough to give even alessia some competition without the influence of alcohol - which was heavy, given the state of your once flawless makeup, now smeared across your face.

“how much have you had to drink exactly, hm?” her nose nudged the rosiness of your cheek gently, before her hands moved to brush the stray hairs out of your face.

“well i was only going to have one, but then i kinda lost count….and then we saw katie! and caitlin! and we did shots! oh they were so good, can we do more? it was so fun!” you squealed, your usual sober ramblings only increasing in your not-sober state.

“you saw caitlin and katie?” leah’s eyebrow perked up questioningly, knowing full well that this particular spot was a favourite of the couple’s, and that they most likely jumped at the chance of you not being accompanied by their usually overprotective captain.

“yes! how did you know?!” you turn in her arms in complete shock.

“just a lucky guess, angel.” she smiles back at you tenderly, waving goodbye to your friends and thanking them once more, ensuring they got into the taxi (the one you’d been refusing to get into prior to her arrival) safely before directing you towards her car.

after the battle of a lifetime attempting to put her hoodie over your shivering frame, despite your protests that you weren’t cold, for the entirety of the journey home, you were jumping between rambling about everything yet nothing at the same time, and singing at the top of your lungs to a song that had been stuck in your head the entire night after doing it on karaoke with katie.

upon catching ear of your mindless babbles about such, your girlfriend made a note to pester caitlin for video evidence of that, obviously.

“so you had a nice time then?” leah chuckled, her teasing tone lost on you completely as she drove you both home as quickly as legally possible - and her hand rested in its usual spot on your thigh.

“mhm the best! wouldve been more fun with you there though.” you murmured, not even attempting to fight your eyelids shutting and the small yawn that follows - missing the soft smile that spread across your girlfriend’s features. she adored seeing you so happy.

“come on baby, let’s get you inside.” she whispers softly, leaning forward to press a kiss to your hair and unbuckle your seatbelt after pulling onto the driveway of your shared home - circling the car to open the passenger door for you like she always did.

the warmth of her hands enveloped yours as she led you inside, stopping the pair of you once the second you got in and readjusting her hold on you to settle around your waist, to slip your heels off of your feet, knowing all too well that you’d end up on the floor otherwise - and with the state you were in she wasn’t entirely sure she’d be able to get you up again if that happened.

“what time is it?” you mumbled, your words barely audible as you rubbed your eyes sleepily.

“nearly 4. you ready for bed my girl?” she doesn’t give you the chance to respond before she’s slowly directing you up the stairs, taking extra care to make sure that you don’t fall up them - a common occurrence for you when sober, and lowering you down onto the bed so you were perched on the end of it once you’d successfully reached the bedroom.

“i’m s-sorry lee. it’s so early…i didn’t want the stupid taxi i just wanted you.” you whined, hitting your emotional drunk stage almost right on cue, and leah had to fight back a laugh at the pout that had formed on your lips.

“hey, no. none of that. i will wake up at any time just to be there when you need me? okay? even when you don’t need me i’ll be there, you’re stuck with me i’m afraid.” she leaned down and pecked your cheek, scattering more featherlight kisses all over your face until you giggled and reached up to loop your arms around the back of her neck in an attempt to pull her down to you.

“we can cuddle in a minute darling, kay? just need to get you changed though, into something more comfy”, she spoke before pulling out of your grasp, easing you out of the comfort of her hoodie much to your disapproval, and padding across the room to grab you a pair of her joggers and one of her shirts, turning to gasp dramatically as you smirked.

“say comfy one more time.”

she made another mental note to thank keira thoroughly for introducing you to that video.

when she turned away from you once more, digging through your sock drawer for your beloved fluffy socks - you pushed yourself up to your feet, determinedly pulling the bottom of your dress up until it bunched around your waist and then moving to tug frustratingly at your underwear - grumbling to yourself as you did so.

of all the sights leah had expected to turn back around to, it certainly wasn’t that.

“and what exactly are you doing?” her eyebrow raised as she observed your clear struggle over what looked like nothing, like you were fighting with air.

“trying..to get my jeans…off. but i can’t find the button.” your eyes brimmed with tears, a few slipping down your cheeks as you glanced up at her.

“sweetheart, you’re wearing a dress. let me help, yeah? i’ve got you.” she sighed, shaking her head lovingly, wiping your tears away and replacing them with kisses, unable this time to fight the smile that crept onto her lips.

she peeled the dress up and over your head as swiftly as possible, as you beamed back at her.

“like what you see williamson?” you winked, tears already long forgotten as you clumsily threw yourself forward and into her awaiting arms, your lips launching at her neck, navigating towards her soft spot with ease - never failing to know her like the back of your hand.

“i always love what i see my girl, you know that. but right now you’re very drunk and need some sleep, yeah?” she squeezes you gently, tilting your chin up to kiss your lips.

she makes a quick effort of helping you change completely, sitting you down on the bed again, and only separating from you briefly to reach for the makeup wipes that she’d left out beforehand, predicting this scenario in its entirety before she’d even seen you.

by the time the wipes made contact with your skin, you had already began to slump against her once more, this time with your eyes firmly shut. she manoeuvred you gently up to your side of the bed with ease, like it was nothing, and tucked you in without you stirring whatsoever.

she delicately removed the remainder of your makeup before quietly kicking off her trainers and crawling into bed beside you, after setting a glass of water and pills that she knew would be very much needed when you awoke on your bedside table.

she pulled your sleeping frame into her, shifting so your head was on her chest, and you were almost entirely encompassed in her hold - knowing that you’d already be grumpy enough in the morning without waking up not touching her.

her chin rested on the top of your head, her fingers subconsciously tracing shapes on your back - which was always more of a comfort to her than to you, as she allowed herself to settle down.

“goodnight. i love you so much my beautiful, beautiful girl” she whispers, kissing your head, the tiredness now evident in her voice as she loses herself in you, and drifts off into a well earned slumber, preparing for the morning ahead.

-

i need her to look after me when i’m drunk thank you very much!

finally clearing out all of my drafts! all requests will be published in the next couple of days :) feel free to send me more i’m loving writing at the min

[malusokay]

How to be like Jang Wonyoung

As many of you requested, part 2 of my it girls series is all about Jang Wonyeong, who's not only absolutely STUNNING, but also incredibly talented, hardworking, and of course successful. Let's get right into it!! <33

Wonyoungs Energy:

Wonyoung is incredibly charismatic, which makes her stand out without even trying!!

She has a bubbly and likeable Personality, Wonyoung appears happy and welcoming, she easily lights up a room with just her presence.

Aside from being cute and cheerful, Wonyoung is also known for being extremely hardworking!!

Confident and Unbothered. Despite receiving quite a bit of unnecessary hate, Wonyoung stays indifferent and true to herself!!

Elegant and feminine. No one does the ‘Elegant feminine self-love girly’ aesthetic like her, she is THE girly girl!! <3

Mindset:

Learn to deal with jealousy, Wonyoung gets plenty of hate, but let's be real for a second… we all know that is because of jealousy. Pretty, successful, smart, and popular? Of course, people will be jealous!!

“While practising self-love, you see good and pretty things about yourself. If I focus only on those things, I don't need to pay much attention to the criticism.”

Don't compare yourself to others “You are you, I am me”.

Keep to yourself. Stop telling people your ideas, your dreams and how you plan to archive them, your goals etc. Let your actions speak for themself!! <3

No more negative self-talk!!

Be your number 1 priority!! Take care of yourself, do what's good for you, eat well, care for your body, skincare, haircare, and your education!! PRIORITIES

Skincare

Skincare. Wonyoung has Flawless skin, finding a skincare routine that works for you can help you archive similar results!!

Wonyoungs skincare routine:

According to Google, Wonyoung only uses Innisfree products and starts by double cleansing her face, for that, she uses the Green Tea Cleansing Oil ($24), and the Green Tea Amino Acid Face Cleanser ($12)

To get the dewy class skin effect, hydration is key!! In the morning, Wonyoung likes using the Green Tea Hyaluronic Acid Serum ($30) and the Dewy Glow Tone-up Cream ($26)

Of course, you can't forget SPF. Wonyoung uses the Mild Cica Sunscreen Tone-Up SPF 50+ PA ++++, which is also great for acne-prone and sensitive skin types!! :)

For her night routine, she likes the Retinol Cica Moisture Recovery Serum ($37) and the Dewy Glow Jelly Cream ($26).

Elevate your daily life:

Healthy diet. Eating nutritious and healthy food is the first and most important step to clear skin and an overall good feeling!! Make sure to eat enough protein (ex. yoghurt, chicken, tofu or eggs), lots of fruits and veggies, and healthy fats (ex. Avocados, fish, nuts, olive oil)!!

Exercise daily. Besides dancing, Wonyoung loves pilates!! You can find lots of great Pilates videos on YouTube!!

Work on your posture!! Having good posture will not only make you feel better but also lets you appear more confident, elegant and put together. Try daily stretching and exercises to improve it <3

Try establishing a proper morning and night routine, this can help you stay structured and relaxed even on more messy and busy days.

Content that makes you feel better!! Start watching channels like thewizardliz, vogue beauty secrets, and read motivating blogs. (like mine lol <3)

Makeup:

Wonyoung is known for her iconic glittery and feminine make-up!!

Light pink blush, plump lips, glowy skin and a glittery but not too heavy eye look.

Foundation on the centre of your face and blend outwards for a naturally contoured look.

Always apply your matt products before your shimmers, that way, your makeup looks cleaner!! Also, apply your glitters from finest to chunkiest. :)

Don't apply your shimmers/glitters past the middle of your eyelid to avoid looking puffy.

If you have warm-toned skin, go for peachy glitters, for cool-toned skin, choose a champagne-coloured one.

If your struggle with dark under eyes, blend your concealer with your fingers!! This will give it a lot more coverage.

You can find lots of tutorials on Wonyoung-inspired make-up on YouTube, this one is my favourite.

I hope this little guide was helpful, I wasn't too familiar with Wonyoung, but I did some research since she was the number 1 most requested person for this!! :)

As always, please feel free to share your own suggestions in the comments and let me know who you want me to write about next! <3

✩‧₊*:・love ya ･:*₊‧✩

[tempobaekh]

Bakugou Katsuki dating a hyper feminine fem!reader

(who is also the human embodiment of Barbie)

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x hyper-feminine!fem!freader Warnings: fluff, maybe ooc bakugou? idk, the pictures at the top DO NOT indicate how the reader looks, reader is a Barbie dolls collector idk if that should be a warning I’m not good at this, there is nothing specific body type, hair texture or skin color described Note: Since I watched the Barbie movie I have been OBSESSED with it and hyper-fixated on it, so this idea came to my mind. I am not good at writing/writing headcanons so if it's bad please don't mind it. But do let me know what I can do better in the future.

Hyper and girly gf x grumpy and anger issues bf

Or la la la and ok ok ok

That’s literally you two

Dating someone who is hyperfeminine and is literally the human embodiment of Barbie would be an interesting dynamic for Bakugou

But yknow the saying ‘opposite attracts’

First time meeting you Bakugou would be utterly baffled at first by your pink-themed wardrobe, sparkly accessories, and bubbly personality; it would be completely alien to him.

At first, he might find you overly cheerful and appearance-focused. However, over time, he would begin to appreciate your confidence, bubbly personality, and unique traits (and also your odd obsession with collecting Barbies)

He might even secretly enjoy your knack for fashion and makeup although he will never understand your obsession with the color pink

OCCASIONALLY might let you do makeup on him bc he loves you too much to say no to you

Glaring at his reflection in the hand mirror with pink eyeshadow on his eyelid “I look ridiculous.”

but will literally threaten you if you tell someone what he doesn’t know is that you secretly took a picture of him with the pink and glittery makeup

Bakugou often reluctantly let himself get dragged by you to go shopping INSISTING on holding all your bags for you walking with you like an intimidating guard dog

Yknow that tik tok trend where a girl has night walking privilege and then they show their intimidating boyfriend walking with them? Yeah that’s you guys anywhere y’all go

Will glare and almost physically get ready to fight someone if they look at you oddly or comment on your appearance

The outfit contrast is COMEDIC between you two when you guys go out

Bc like you are all pink, bows, frills, sparkle, gems, and smiley

While he is all black, in large jackets, combat boots, hunched over shoulders, and a scowl on his face

Yall definitely get looks and double check by people

He will definitely give you self-defense lessons bc even though he is always there to protect you he needs to know if there is a situation where he can’t be there to protect you which is NOT often you can defend yourself

“If I’m not there to beat up some shitty idiot, at least you can kick some ass.”

“But I thought you would always be there to be my knight in shining armor.” you would say teasingly

Gets dizzy every time he sees your closet he's dramatic bc it’s all shades of pink, glitters, frills, and sparkles 

Pointing at your high heels; “How the hell do you walk around in those death traps??”

Bakugou ALWAYS remembers every little thing about you

Like your favorite food, flower, color that is really obvious or snacks, he even remembers your favorite Barbie from your huge Barbie collection

Bakugou would struggle to express his feelings in words, but his actions would speak volumes he will go out of his way to ensure your comfort and safety, and his subtle ways of affection always make your heart flutter

Surprises you with an intimate candle-light dinner with a big bouquet of pink roses

“Don’t get used to this mushy crap, okay?” he would mutter with a small smile

And you would pinch his cheeks “Who knew you were so cheesy Katsu.”

And you appreciate his ways of showing affection 

Bakugou once surprised you with a limited-edition Barbie that you had been wanting for a while and you cried

Y'all's dates might involve a mix of Bakugou’s preferred activities and your interests/ideas

So it’s a different type of date every time and each of them more fun and sweet than the last

Bakugou uses a few different pet names to call you by:

Doll/Dollface: Bakugou, at first, used the nickname with a hint of sarcasm but it evolves into an endearing term

Barbie: While this pet name seems like an obvious choice, Bakugou playfully uses it to acknowledge your resemblance to the iconic doll

Babe: A more casual and common term

Sunshine: He uses this term to acknowledge your bright and positive personality, even if he’d never admit that you have a positive influence on his mood

Princess: Bakugou might reluctantly use this pet name when he is feeling particularly soft towards you, even if he’d never say it out loud in public might let it slip once or twice

When you heard about the Barbie movie coming out you were SO EXCITED

Talking Bakugou’s ear off about the film and begging him to come with you

He is too whipped and can never say no to you so of course he is coming with you

You already had your outfit and makeup picked out for the film and also chose a Ken outfit for Bakugou fucking imagine him in the mojo dojo casa house Ken outfit with the fur coat SKSJSKJSJ which he hesitantly wore just to make you happy

He was definitely not enjoying himself by being your Ken no definitely not

He also bought you the Margot Robbie Barbie as a gift to surprise you and you swore you fell even more for the ruby eyed man in front of you

So in conclusion Bakugou loves you a lot and will do anything for you no matter what it is or how ridiculous it is

Note: gifs, pictures, and header DOES NOT belong to me. CREDITS TO THE RIGHTFUL OWNERS!! Feedback is appreciated.

[moonystoes]

Prom date - Elisa De Almeida x reader (highschool students) pt.3

Summary: It's the day you have been waiting for, except you didn't spend it with your date.

Warning: slight homophobia and bullying (it's paul and his minions smh), too much yap guys im sorry, no kissing nothing it's KILLING ME TOO OKAY? unrealistic corny shit but they're 14 in 2012.

wc: 7.799k

a/n: hey y'all... did you miss me? i want to apologize for this chapter because it's yap and a mess to be honest. but it has been a while since the last time i wrote. i also want to say sorry for the people that were waiting...again, i'm still pretty new to writing, and if you have any advice please help me out!!

Here: part 1 part 2

Wednesday, 19th of december 2012

You were always excited about the idea of prom. The makeup, the dress, the dance, the romantic glances, and obviously the kiss that would be your first. But now the only thing that's on your mind was Elisa.

In these two days, Elisa has been acting slightly differently around you than before. She would give you a small nod of acknowledgement with a small smile or the usual frown. Yet, it still seemed like there was a barrier between the both of you, and talking to each other still felt impossible.

You stared at your reflection in the mirror making sure your ‘picture-smile’ looks good. Sam was next to you, holding a large pink make-up palette with an eyeshadow brush in her other hand.

You hated sleeping in class for one reason, and it's your silly mouth. Whenever you wake up you end up saying something stupid. And based on the way Elisa was looking at you, you knew you had said something dumb at the nurse office that day.

You had tried everything in your power to remember what you said, but nothing had worked.

“Girl it's not that serious, you're acting as if you confessed your love or something.” Sam groaned out, waving the pink powdered brush around. Your eyes widened and turned to look at her, “Sam! Don't say that, she's a girl!”

“So?” She shrugged, dabbing a glittery shade on your eyelids.

“So? You know so. Girls shouldn't like girls like that, don't be stupid.” You frowned, closing your eyes so she can work on your eyelids again.

“Why not? I don’t give a shit.” Sam looked away from your eyelids and stepped away to look at you with a confused glance. Both of you have never discussed anything like this, but she still felt offended thinking that you thought she was against it.

Silence filled the room, your hands playing around with the cheap acrylic nails you glued on. “Really?” You whispered.

“Pfft, yeah. Who cares? We're in highschool now. At least we're not doing drugs.” She laughed. She started tapping a different shade to your eyes, while humming to the song playing on her phone.

“Well, the government does.” You shrugged, your silky straightened hair moving around your shoulder. You felt Sam stop tapping your eyes before she asks, “the government does what?”

“Care. Same sex marriage isn't allowed, that's what I meant.”

“Wait, you searched up about that?” Sam accused you as she stepped away again from your face to glance at you. You opened your eyes in shock as you moved the hair away from your face, “what! No…I just assumed that.”

Sam's face dropped as she gave you a disappointed glance, but your embarrassment made you look down to your sweatpants. You didn't want to admit to Sam that you've searched about it, and you also would kill yourself if she finds out about the Quora comment you made.

Sam has already suspected something weird about you this whole school semester, and at first she thought it was about how stressful school is. But she noticed that whenever she talks about Elisa to you, you'd look away and try to make the conversations shorter. What made her realize what's going on is whenever Elisa walks past you, you'd look at her hoping for some reaction. A smile, a nod, even just a glance, you've always hoped Elisa would acknowledge you.

It was when the both of you were sitting at lunch with your two other friends when you brought up her nonchalant responses to you. Lucia and Suzan looked at you confusingly, responding with a ‘she jokes and is really friendly to me’.

Usually you wouldn't care, saying that it's not an obligation to like every person in school and you'd respect her friendships. But when it came to Elisa, you would complain about it everyday to her.

She hoped that you'd speak to her about your newfound crush on Elisa, but you'd always swerve and act dumb whenever she brings Elisa up. However, she understands it's very difficult to come out, especially when you still don't even know what you are in the first place.

So she shrugged and decided to apply blush around your cheeks. After that, you stood and wore your floral dress, avoiding Sam's eyes.

Sam has been talking a little too much, about her new favorite show, the side character she's obsessing over, her new favorite snack, and many things she started blabbering about. When Sam talks too much, it means she's either hiding something from you or is trying to distract you. Both conclusions are awful, so you shook her off and started wearing your jewelry.

Sam's loud mouth slowed down as you stared at your complete reflection. She pulled your hand to sit on the bed before you left to the venue. She held into it and said, “If Paul doesn't treat you well, it doesn't matter okay? You're there to experience your first prom, not your first date with Paul.”

You looked down at your intertwined hands and sighed, feeling like she knew something you don’t. Did Paul say he would ditch me? Does she know about that? She continued, “Besides, you look too good. If he treats you badly, you can literally get anyone else.”

You huffed and looked away from her, “Yeah like who?”

“Every guy. Literally,” She said in a duh tone. She stayed quiet for a second before adding, “probably Elisa too if what they say is true.”

You looked up to look at Sam, “no way, I'm not her type.”

“And how would you know her type?”

You stayed silent and awkwardly shrugged as you looked down. “Amy's probably her type, just like everyone else.”

Sam sighed loudly and wrapped her left arm around your shoulder, “I wish you can see yourself the way these boys do. You're smart, gorgeous, kind, hardworking, and so many more. Amy is cute, yeah… but she's not the whole package.”

You bit your lip trying to suppress your smile,and leaned into her touch. “Thanks, I'll let you know what happens when I come back.”

Sam nodded and stood up, realizing that you're heading out right now. “Is he coming now?”

You turned and looked at her, “who?”

Sam's stomach sank when she realized the situation, she sighed loudly, “oh my God are you actually telling me he's not even taking you there.”

Giving her a forced smile, you stood up and wore your heels. “I don't care about him at this point. I feel like…my crush on him was never real you know. Like… I was attached to the hope of us being close like how we were when we were kids, I wasn't actually hoping for a relationship with him,” you exhaled calmly, “I just want to experience prom, I don't care about the romance part, especially not with him anymore.”

Sam was glad that you were officially over Paul. She knew he wouldn't be a great partner and she wanted what's best for you. But she knew that there was something else. Because for you to get over someone, you'd have to be distracted enough to forget about them. That's how you are.

Sam walked you to the car outside, your parents both standing with a camera to take pictures. You were glad they didn't know about American prom traditions, because it is embarrassing how Paul isn't here to take pictures with you as well as the corsage and flowers.

After the awkward posing, your father got into the car and dropped you off at the huge venue the school rented for today. As you stepped out of the car, fear started brewing in you. You were late because of the long lectures from your parents so the building was filling up already and you were the type of person who would come first to everything.

You hoped you would not find Paul as you took a deep breath and entered the poorly lit room. It was filled with blue decorations, blue foil curtains around the walls and entrance, blue balloons, blue flowers, blue ceilings, everything was either blue or white except the yellow lamps that created a ‘romantic’ atmosphere.

“Hey you're here!” A sudden noise came from behind you, feeling a hand on your shoulder.

You turned immediately, finding Paul wearing a classic white and black suit and a red tie. You gave him a fake smile and replied, “yeah I just came here, I hope you're not mad that I'm a bit late.”

Paul gave you a bright smile, the one that makes your anger and disappointment in him slightly fade away, “don't worry, I didn't even notice you weren't with me anyways!”

He grabbed your elbow and dragged you to the tables not realizing the face drop in your face. You didn't know if you should feel offended or just cry, your stomach dropping as you felt slightly sick.

“Hey guys, my date is here.” He pointed at you, introducing you to his friend group. You've known them, they were all in your class and you've talked to them previously.

Adam glanced at you and waved, “you didn't tell us it's y/n!” You looked away from them, trying to hold in your frustration and disappointment. He called you his date and didn't bother to introduce you by your name, but it's okay because you ARE his date. He just called you what you are… you can't get mad at that.

But he didn't even tell them it was you? So he hid the fact he asked you out for the past 2 weeks? You remained facing away from them, hugging your bare arms into yourself as you hoped you could find someone to run and talk to. Adam, Paul and his friends were chatting about video games and football. A part of you wanted to join the football conversation, but you knew they're going to mock you because you're a girl.

So you pulled out your phone and texted Sam a quick update message letting her know that Paul was disappointing just like how the both of you were expecting. You turned it off when you heard Yousef talk about Elisa.

“I can't believe Elisa actually came.” You looked at Yousef, realizing he was facing the food and drinks table. You turned immediately to find where she was. After moments of looking around, you found her standing around the drinks area laughing at something Marie said, her hair neatly styled to the side. You have noticed that Elisa's hair is always styled well, but this time it looks like she took longer to perfect her look. She was wearing the usual black and white suit, except with a pink tie.

You wondered what Marie had said to make her laugh that hard, and you looked around her to check if she had a date. You knew Fleur was recovering from her injury, but what if she brought someone else?

Your gaze was interrupted when you heard Paul mutter something, “No matter how much she dresses like us, she can never be us,” You turned to look at him in surprise, “imagine being a lesbian and trying to dress like us yet you get no dates.”

Your shock turned into anger, “Paul, what the fuck!” You couldn't believe he is your date, let alone your best friend as a kid.

The guys all laughed at what he said and how you reacted, Paul looked at you in shame and he tried to pull you away from the group.

“No let go of me! You can't just say stuff like that, it's rude.” You angrily pushed his hand away from your wrist. Out of all the things Paul did, this was the worst of them. Because he was not hurting you, he was hurting Elisa. Elisa the sweet girl that did nothing wrong to him.

“Y/n come on she can't hear us it's okay.” He pulled you closer as he whispered to you. His soft brown eyes looking at you to let you know how sincere he was. You felt disheartened, this was the guy you had a crush on. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down to not cause a scene. You can't behave this way for Elisa, they'll know. Wait…they'll know what? You glanced at Elisa to make sure she didn't hear him, now she's standing alone as Marie and Adam were dancing to the upbeat music playing.

“So just because she can't hear you, it technically means you didn't say it? Paul, you still said it!” You whisper-shouted at him. You exhaled slowly as the anger faded into shame. Shame in thinking he was sweet and precious. Shame in still expecting more from him no matter how much he ignored you.

“What can prove existence y/n? It's for you to have proof of something or remember it. No one can prove what I said to Elise, and she didn't witness it. You know what this means?” You gaped at him in surprise, is he turning this situation into a philosophical study? “What I said doesn't exist in Elise's world. She doesn't know about it, okay?” he held your hand and pulled you into him, leaving his right arm around your shoulder.

Your insides churned as you felt disappointed, not in Paul this time, but in yourself for not letting go of him and defending Elisa. You didn't even have the energy to correct him for saying the wrong name. For now, you're thinking of a plan to stay away from him.

The boys started talking about other stupid topics as Paul's arm remained on you. Instead of listening to them, you focused on Élisa's back as she was standing a few meters away from you. From this angle, it looked like Elisa had a new haircut for today. Her shaved sides looked cleaner, the suit she was wearing was fitting her shoulders so well as if she got it tailored. You glanced back to Paul when you realized you're putting too much focus on her.

You quickly took off Paul’s hand off your shoulder, telling him that you’re going to the bathroom. Your tense muscles started to calm down when you had finally escaped him and his annoying friends. Walking in the dark hallway to somewhere quieter, you decided to stop by the drinking area and get yourself cold water to calm yourself but you were interrupted by someone.

“I thought you were here with Paul?” You turned to the voice and found Elisa pouring herself a sprite, her first two buttons of her shirt were open and the light pink tie was loose. You froze in place as you looked at her this way, the orange hues from the lights hit her left face making her sharp jawline pop and her prominent nose stand out. You sighed quietly as your hands started to shiver, but you couldn’t blame the cold for this one. You know exactly what this is now.

“I don’t care about him.” You gulped the water and threw the paper cup in the trash.

“Did he hurt you?” She stepped closer to you as the loud music was making it difficult for her to hear you. But your flustered state made you step back, “no, he just said something rude about someone I care about…”

Elisa’s face changed from frustration to confusion, “who?”

You felt like the first day of school all over again, the unnecessary nervousness consuming you as you folded your arms against your chest, “why do you care?” you snorted and looked at the dancing couples at the new slow music playing.

Elisa figured out that you probably didn't even want to be around her, she was the one that approached you and started this conversation anyways. But why wouldn't you say who Paul was talking about? She has been nicer to you, right? Are you guys friends now?

Elisa froze as she thought back to how she has been treating you since that nurse encounter two days ago. She realized that she was just dramatic for thinking that the way you viewed her changed, a small smile and a nod doesn't make you guys friends. Besides, she was the only one that had reacted differently. Yours were the same, glancing away and looking down.

“You're right, I don't care.” She frustratingly mumbled, turning away from the table and you and pretending to care about the cringey gross couples dancing (she wishes she could have a girl and dance like that).

Your chest ached at the thought that she doesn't care, but you exhaled a breath you were holding when you realized she stopped asking who it was. You also didn't understand why you worded it that way in the first place. Why did you say that you cared about her? You wondered how she'd react if she knew about what happened, and really hoped she wouldn't find out about your new attraction.

You thought back to what Sam said, is it not that bad and you were being dramatic? Your parents were never religious, but they still never showed any sort of awareness about gay people. You thought about how your parents would react if you brought Elisa as your girl, and just the thought of her being yours made you smile.

You needed to accept it, but you didn't know how. So you glanced back at elisa now that you have admitted it to yourself, that you like elisa. Her face was still facing the couples, her hand holding the filled glass as her other hand was folded almost like yours.

“Why pink?”, you stuttered out, hoping to hear Elisa's voice again even if she was glaring from frustration.

“Hmm?” Elisa turned back to look at you with confusion and bent down to hear you. Now that the both of you are standing next to each other, she can see your face clearly and the effort you made for today. The soft pink makeup around your eyelids, the red pouty lips, the straightened hair, and the tight-fitted dress that made her eyes struggle to not look down. And all of this made her heart tighten, because all of this was for Paul. Not for her, for a guy that is a piece of shit and treats you awfully when she can treat you better.

Elisa kept in mind that when she said she can treat you better, she didn't mean it literally. She doesn't like you. In fact, she can't stand you no matter how many sweet interactions you can get into, you'll always be grossed out by her…or maybe you just can't stand to be around her for some reason (she has one in mind). She just said that theoretically, if Elisa had a girl, she would’ve treated her way better than that stupid guy.

“The tie,” you shakenly point at her tie as you avoided eye contact, “why the color pink?” Your mind started filling up with many thoughts, on why you even thought of this question, or what if she thinks you were mocking her outfit? You could’ve said anything else to start a conversation. You were never like this, you were socially bubbly and knew exactly what to say in situations. Why are you suddenly behaving this awkwardly?

It seemed as if Elisa had forgotten what she was wearing the way she looked down to look at the tie you were talking about. She stood up straighter and thought for a second. Normally Elisa would feel somewhat offended by the question, but she knew you meant no harm in asking and you looked like you were just curious, “to show people that at the end of the day I am still a girl.”

You stayed silent for a moment, confused by the response she just gave you, “but… pink is just a color I mean… how does that even, you know what? Nevermind.” You cringed out at the way you spoke to her. You should’ve just stayed quiet, especially by the way Elisa is side-eyeing you right now.

She cracked a smile when she saw your panic, “I know, I’m just kidding,” She turned around, now her front is facing the table edge on your right. She rested her hands on the edge as she leaned closer to you, making you lean back to the point where your butt is almost on top of the table. “I actually bought this awhile ago when I thought Fleur was coming with me before she injured herself.”

“Oh,” you looked down at her hands gripping the edge of the table, “so I’m assuming Fleur was meant to wear pink, right?”

She nodded, but before she responded you screeched out when you realized the music changed, “Woah, not this song!” She looked at you confusedly as you jumped off the table and looked around you embarrassed, “sorry I don’t even know why I did that. This is my favorite song of all time and I kinda got excited.”

Elisa laughed awkwardly, looking around the same direction as you to see what you’re looking for. But her eyes froze when she noticed it was Paul, and he was also looking around possibly for you. You knew Paul was looking for you, because no matter how many things he forgot about you, your love for this song is unforgettable.

You turned your glance to Elisa, realizing she’s also looking at Paul, “hey, I don’t want him to see me…he’ll probably try and get me to dance with him but I can’t even stand him after what he did today.”

“Umm… So do you want me to cover you or what?” she scrunched her face in confusion as she opened her suit jacket in a way to try and hide you from anyone behind her, including paul.

You were stunned for a moment, gaping at her before bursting out from laughter. For a second, you forgot about the fact you were trying to hide from Paul as you saw Elisa's pink flushed cheeks seeing you laughing at her awfully failed attempt. But you were thankful nonetheless, “I don't think this would cover me completely but thank you.”

She slowly returned the jacket back around her waist, buttoning the first button and turning around to check for Paul again. Elisa knew her face was probably red and burning, but in her defense, what was she supposed to do? She tried not to face you until her face cools down a bit so she tried to look for ‘Voldemort’ again. When she saw him, she smiled. Paul had stopped looking around and concluded that you probably was still in the bathroom. So now Elisa knew that Paul won't have to treat you like shit, “damn how much do you like this song that he even noticed you were gone?”

“Um… I used to sing it all the time back when we used to hang out together. The obsession was intense.” You suddenly felt so pathetic for your crazy obsession, but when you looked up to see Elisa, she had a fond smile.

“Yeah, I get it. I had a crazy obsession with one video game to the point where Fleur and Marie avoided me because I kept talking about it.”

You glanced back and saw Paul talking to Amy. And right now, you were glad that he was talking to her. Because you can just spend your time talking with Elisa and he won't even think about you.

“If I was really drunk and no one was around, I would be dancing right now.” You mumbled, frowning as you were humming the song. Elisa giggled at your comment, she took a step to the dark hallway and pointed to the place next to her.

“No one is going to look here.” Elisa's voice came out way more unsteady than she had expected. It's not like she's asking you to dance with her, she just wanted you to feel comfortable and enjoy prom. And it's your favorite song, anyone would want to dance to their favorite song without judgment, right?

You sighed as you looked down to cover your blushing face. Although your face doesn't usually turn red, it does show somehow that you're ‘blushing’... well, that's what Sam says when you do anyways. Is Elisa asking to dance with you? There is no way that's what she meant, you had just admitted your crush on her to yourself and now she wants to dance with you, is this a dream?

Besides, she doesn't like you. Her little nods and glances mean nothing. What if she talks bad about you to her friends, maybe that's why she glances at you… to find something to talk about. But as you looked up to Elisa, her face contorted to a stressful frown and you had just realized that she probably thinks that you're rejecting her.

“Okay,” you gave her a small smile as you walked towards her to the unlit hallway. Elisa gave you the same soft smile, her cheeks turning pink. In her head, a million thoughts are running through her head. Is she about to have a girl dancing with her like the couples she just called gross and cringey? Were you actually going to dance with a girl? Elisa thought you were against that, she thought you wouldn’t even accept the idea of being around her.

But right as you stepped near her, the music abruptly stopped making the both of you groan and slack your shoulders. “Are you serious? I didn't even get to enjoy the best part.” You talked under your breath as you awkwardly stepped away from Elisa, realizing you were getting a bit too close to her.

Elisa was frustrated as much as you. She actually didn't give a damn about the song, but the thought of her dancing with you in your cute dress and bright smile made her pray that the song would be playing for a whole hour if possible. But she had to remind herself that she didn't necessarily want to dance with you specifically, she just wanted a girl in her arms, any girl. Or maybe that's one way of trying to convince herself.

A loud voice from the speakers echoed through the venue, “hey everyone, I am Michael and sorry to interrupt your dance, but we will reveal prom king and prom queen now. You were able to vote for the contestants for the whole past month. And now, we have the list. For prom kings, we have me, Paul Badosa, and Adam Nuñes. For prom queens, we have y/n l/n, Amy Moreau, and Jasmine Ali,” You turned to look at Elisa with a look of distress. If Paul and you win, you would have to dance in front of everyone. You didn’t want to be around Paul, and just the thought of his hands around your waist gave you goosebumps…and not the good kind. “Drum roll please… the winners are Paul Badosa and y/n l/n, congratulations! And please come to the front for the crown and the dance.”

Elisa was praying for you not to win it when she heard Paul's name. But now she realized that you need help escaping this place before they try to look for you. She turned to look at your anxious face and tapped your bare shoulder, pointing to the small neon ‘exit’ sign on the end of the pitch black hallway. You gratefully nodded and walked to that door, knowing that if you decided to run you would either trip or your heels would make too much noise. You can hear the students calling out your name and looking for you, but you chose to ignore it. You didn’t want to dance with Paul, everything would be uncomfortable.

Once you delicately and slowly opened the door, you turned around to thank Elisa. But you didn’t expect her to be this close, your face almost bumping into her chest. You stumbled backwards from the shock, and Elisa wrapped her arm around your waist before you dropped. From the sudden surprise and fear of falling, you wrapped your arms around Elisa's shoulder, trying to find balance on your uncomfortable heels.

For a moment, the both of you froze clinging into each other. Elisa slowly stepped forward, making sure the both of you are completely outside so the students don't find you… especially in this sort of position with her. You didn't want to let go of her so you pretended to struggle with your heels. Embarrassment started filling Elisa when she could feel her heartbeat speeding up and she closed her eyes begging that you can't feel it against your chest.

You were the first to let go; you were afraid if she noticed something different with the way you were behaving or if she was uncomfortable with the way you were clinging onto her. Elisa's focus was nowhere near you, she was trying to calm her gay heart. Obviously, she had hugged girls before. But it was you, in a cute dress, in a party, clinging into her… that's different.

The both of you were avoiding each other's eyes while trying to calm down, you looked at the door behind Elisa to make sure it's closed and decided to ask, “why didn't you stay? It's prom and you should enjoy it.”

“And you're going home alone? You don't even have a ride and it's dark outside, it's not right.”

You sighed gratefully, pulling out your phone to look at how far is the venue from your house. Surprisingly, it was just a 20 minute walk. And although this may seem too far away, you knew it wouldn't be that bad.

You refused to call your parents to pick you up from here. You didn't want them to know that Paul had basically ditched you and humiliated you and Elisa around his friends. You felt shame knowing what happened, even if it wasn't your fault. It's embarrassing to not celebrate prom and leave early… especially when you were the ‘popular’ student in class.

“It's okay Elisa, the venue isn't far off from my house.” You opened Google maps for you to follow the steps.

“Y/n it's still 8 at night, why don't you contact your dad to take you the same way he dropped you off?” Elisa blurted out. She was worried about you walking alone, another reason to hate on the inconsiderate idiot Paul. She also hoped that you didn't notice that she knew how you came to the venue, not wanting to admit to you that she was eyeing all the way from the outside when you came through the open entrance.

You stayed quiet for a moment, not wanting her to know the reason why you would rather walk in heels for 20 minutes rather than contacting your parents. You groaned, “I just don't want them to know I left early, they're going to ask me all about it.”

From your frustrated tone, Elisa understood exactly why. She stepped forward and pointed to the sidewalk, hoping you would lead the way to your house.

“Elisa, I'm sorry.” Your features suddenly contracted into a pout, remembering how stubborn Elisa is and how she would never accept a ‘no’ response.

“Y/n, it's okay. It's not like I was enjoying looking at couples dancing and wishing I was in one,” She exhales, “Besides, the only reason why I came here is because I promised Fleur.”

She stepped forward again, turning around to face you and waving her arm over. Elisa felt that she may have been sounding desperate, but it's okay right? It's not like you were uncomfortable with her walking you home. You seem more relaxed around her, and maybe her assumptions about you were false. She saw the soft grateful smile on your face as you followed her, holding up your phone to follow the map.

It was a blissful silence between you guys for a short while. Both secretly enjoy each other's company while also panicking on what to say. You bit into your lip as you prayed that you'd stop shaking from the chilly weather, goosebumps all over your arms. It's the south of France in December, and you're just wearing a dress.

Elisa turned to look at your phone to see where the both of you should go after the turn, but she noticed your fingers shivering as you were grasping your phone. Her body stiffened, realizing that it’s her duty now to protect you from the cold. She wanted to impress you, but she also wanted to take care of you, suddenly feeling protective of you and your health. Elisa’s fingers slowly unbuttoned her suit jacket and she slowed down from walking to remove it.

Elisa wasn’t aware that you were also glancing at her. The moonlight made her look like she came from an anime. Because there is not a single actress that can portray the angelic scenery in front of you. Your eyes traced her neck and collarbone from your view, and you didn’t notice Elisa had slowed down until it started to become difficult for you to shamelessly stare at her without turning your neck.

When Elisa stopped, you copied her and decided to wait for her. Until you realized that she had removed her jacket and is handing it to you. Elisa was breathing heavily, her lips between her teeth as she waited for you to take it. She was afraid that you would see this gesture as ‘weird’. But when she saw you grin at her as your hand accepted the jacket, her shoulders loosened up and she confidently walked again. Elisa prayed that you can’t see the panic in the way she’s walking, she wanted you to view her as calm and collected.

But you weren’t even thinking of the way she was standing or walking right now, you were a blushing mess at the sweet action. You followed her to thank her, “thanks, but you probably need it more than me.” You were still holding onto it, refusing to wear it.

“No, it’s okay! I’m wearing two layers beneath this,” she shook her head as she pointed at her dress shirt, “I promise I came prepared.”

You grinned brightly, lifting the large jacket and wearing it. The sleeves were reaching your fingertips, and the edge of the jacket had reached even below your butt. You buttoned all three of the buttons, accepting anything that can keep you warm in the winter wind.

Elisa was eyeing you from the corner of her eyes. She tried to mask the pink of her cheeks when she saw how big the jacket looked on you. She was aware that she is taller than most girls, but it’s difficult for her to notice that when she is lanky and skinny. Seeing you swim in her jacket made her smile in pride, and also because she thought you looked adorable that way, in her jacket under the streetlight.

“Wow… so you were planning to give your jacket to another girl, I see.” You sarcastically accused her as you nudged her shoulder. She bit her lip as she looked away, “no, that's not what I meant! I just…it was cold so-”

“I know, I'm joking.” You giggled when you saw her stammer. She nodded at what you said and stayed quiet, stuffing her clammy hands into her pockets.

You glanced back at the screen of your phone, realizing there is only a minute left before you reach home. You glanced back to Élisa and asked, “Hey, I want to thank you for all of this. Even when you said you didn't even want to stay there, I still feel rude dragging you out,” You smiled at her, hoping that she'd accept the offer you'll make, “Do you want to come over and have dinner with me?... and my family of course they'd be grateful to meet the person that walked me home.”

Elisa's eyes widened at the thought of your parents seeing her. She immediately declined, “no it's all okay actually, thanks.” She gave you a respectful smile, hoping you wouldn't take offense in her refusal. But she can see the embarrassment and the way your lips frowned, and now guilt is filling her heart. She didn't mean to make you sad, she was just worried about how your parents would react when they see her.

You shrugged her response off, hoping she can't read the disappointment in your face. Your parents taught you that if someone helped you, you have to offer them something back in gratitude. Whether it's candy, dinner, gifts, etc. So for Elisa to leave prom and walk you home, you felt the need to give her something back.

“This is my house, it's pretty small but I'm an only child so…” you pointed at the house when you spotted it as you turned to Elisa, “I want to give you something since you aren't coming in. Can you wait?”

Elisa nodded eagerly as a response. She felt like she couldn't breathe this whole walk with you, and she knew she needed a small break to recover from what happened the whole day. She saw you step inside the house wearing her jacket, she screeched when she realized your family will see you with it, “wait!”

But you had already stepped inside and you found both of your parents in the dining room eating dinner. They saw you and gave you a smile, “Hey, how was it?”

“Good. Mama, where did you put those fancy chocolates?”

Your father didn't say anything, he was only staring at the oversized suit jacket you were wearing.

“Ohhh, is it for Paul?” Your mom winked at you, her left hand pointing at the kitchen cabinet.

You sighed in frustration, not knowing what to say. If you said no, they'll ask who. And Elisa clearly doesn't want your parents to know her, and you also don't want your parents to question everything that happened with Paul.

So you didn't respond and grabbed the box of candy. But when your hands reached out for it, you noticed the suit jacket. Shit! Your parents would definitely question everything because of this.

You ran quickly outside, opening the door and shutting it behind you.

While you were away, Elisa was scanning your house out of curiosity. When she looked up to the lit bedroom upstairs, she noticed a shadow staring outside directly at her. She nearly jumped from it, closing her eyes in embarrassment. But who would that shadow be? She saw a glimpse of your parents when you opened the door, and you are an only child.

She took a deep breath and slowly looked up again, but the shadow wasn't there anymore. As she tried to take a step forward to see it from another angle, you opened the door.

She flinched and looked back at you, “oh, hi! Hi again…”

You looked at her strangely and smiled, “I didn't want you to go home with nothing, thank you.” You handed her the box of chocolate.

Elisa looked at the box, it was her favorite holiday chocolate. She isn't allowed to eat them at all because they were expensive and prestigious, only for special occasions.

“Oh wow, are you sure?” She hesitantly held out her hands to take it.

“Yes, and also this.” You passed the box to her and removed her jacket, handing it to her too.

Elisa was stunned for a moment, the warm outdoor lamp your house had made the scene in front of her look straight from a movie. The way your hair danced around your shoulders, the way you were removing her jacket. She quietly accepted it, opening her mouth to say something but nothing came out.

You turned around to open your door, giving her a small wave and closed it behind you. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, hoping your parents won't barge in and ask you a million questions. When they didn't, you sneakily walked on the stairs to your room, but what you saw made you scream.

“WHAT THE FUCK SAM!” You almost tripped down the stairs from your heels. Sam was on the top of the stairs with a sly smirk, she had seen the whole encounter of you and Elisa. She was surprised to see you hand out those chocolates, because you refused to give her a piece of them from how special they are to you. So why did you give them to Elisa? She also saw the jacket exchange, and the way Elisa was standing there admiring you.

You took a deep breath, turning around to glance at your parents to see if they heard you. Your dad gave you a disappointed glance, and your mom showed you a hand gesture that means ‘wait’ (which means you're basically fucked but she can't do anything since your friend was there).

Sam pulled your arm and dragged you to your room, she shut the door with the key and jumped on your bed, “how was prom with Paul?”

You awkwardly walked towards your closet, pulling out a pajama set as you thought of a way to respond, “um… did you not see my message?”

“Oh I saw it,” she replied, “I was just wondering if he redeemed himself at the end? I heard that you won prom queen, but I don't see you with the tiara.”

You turned to look at her, “can you leave so I can change?”

She nodded and left the room. She was waiting for you to say what happened, she still didn't understand how you came home with Elisa while also wearing her jacket. She hoped you'd be honest and tell her the truth. Sam had gotten 3 calls from Paul asking where you went, he said he was embarrassed that you had ditched him and how he had to receive the crown alone. He also asked where were you, but she didn't have an answer to that, she didn't know either. And when she tried to call and text, it seemed as though you were ignoring her (now she thinks you were too busy with Elisa).

You opened the door to your room as your left hand was wiping the makeup on your face, “I'm too tired to speak, but I basically ran away ‘cuz I didn't want to be around Paul.”

“And who dropped you home? Did you get a ride?” Sam was pretending as if she didn't see you outside, and you glanced at her weirdly. Did she see us? Would Elisa be okay if Sam knew about this? It was nothing, right? She was just being a kind person.

“No, I didn't get any rides.” You responded, the third makeup wipe is now stained black from the mascara.

“Yeah no ride because she doesn't have a dick.” She snorted as she snacked on the barbecue flavored chips.

Your hands stopped rubbing your eyes as you turned to look at her with an open mouth, “Sam! What even was that?”

“Why didn't you tell me that you and Elisa ran away together? I thought we were besties.” Sam had tried so hard to not be hurt by this, but the both of you were friends for a while. And she thought you liked her by now to tell her everything. She understood why you wouldn't tell her about your crush, but why not tell her about this? Aren't you both friends?

“Sam, you are my best friend… I was just worried you'd see it differently.” You exhaled as you sat down next to her, holding her hand now that you've cleaned your face.

“See it like what?” She knew what you meant, but she needed you to say it out loud, maybe then it will be easier for you to speak about your feelings out loud.

“Sam… you brought up me looking pretty enough to attract Elisa, and I thought that maybe you would make jokes when you find out that she walked me home.” You looked down at your bare feet, they were sore from all the walking you've done tonight and you just need a rest.

“Okay… I'm sorry I did make jokes, but I just wanna know what happened for you to even gift her those chocolates!”

You groaned loudly, covering your face with a nearby pillow, “She left prom to walk me home! That's the least I could've done.”

She laid in your bed, removing the covers to get cozy. “And she gave you her jacket, she's really sweet you know? She's just a little awkward around you.” She can feel herself dozing off as she mumbled.

“Well, that's the reason why I don't think she likes me…But Sam, today I was really happy,” You smiled as you thought about what happened today, “She did everything she can to make me feel safe and comfortable.”

You laid next to Sam and waited for her response, but you could hear her light snores and she turned around to pull you into her, just how the both of you usually cuddle in sleepovers.

You couldn't sleep, just smiling at what happened with Elisa.

“Shit! Did she walk home alone?!” You shrieked as you stood up and took your phone from the bedside table, but you froze when you realized that you didn't have any of Elisa's socials. You went to Facebook and searched up her name. You stumbled on around 15 accounts until you found an account with a username ‘delameida5elel’ and the picture was Elisa holding a football with Fleur and Marie. You pressed on it and found a recent post,

Prom would've been better if I knew how to socialize around pretty girls :((

You froze, reading the sentence over and over to check if your eyes were fooling you. Elisa actually likes girls? And what does she mean it would've been better if she knew how to socialize around pretty girls? Is she saying that today wasn't good and she wanted to talk to actual pretty girls? Elisa didn't have fun today with you and hoped she'd be with pretty girls, unlike you.

Your happy spirits suddenly went down feeling like a sad deflated balloon. At least she's home safely or else she wouldn't post that.

You threw the phone at the table nearby and laid stiffly back. Sam's arms came back around you, but you pushed them away and shuffled all the way to the end of the bed and turned away from her.

I fucked up.

----

~does your mom ever pull the italian hand and you panic and pray?

~Google maps app was created just 6 days before prom😝

guys let me know what you think i need to hear your thoughts

[cameronspecial]

Hiii I love your writing so much! I was wondering if you could maybe write something where Drew and the reader moms have been friends since college only causing for the reader, Drew and his siblings to be close due to growing up side by side in Drew’s hometown.

Drew and the reader have been together for a while and they have a little girl together (around 3 or 4 years old) They return to their hometown to celebrate Christmas with their families all together opening gifts, eating Christmas lunch and things like that just loads of fluff between Drew and his daughter the reader and the family.

I would really appreciate if you could do this thank you!!!

Magic Snow Globe

Pairing: Dad!Drew Starkey x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.8K

A/N: Surprise! This wasn't on the schedule so it is my Christmas gift to you guys. This is separate from my dad!Drew series.

Masterlist

Drew watches as Grace examines her father’s childhood bedroom. This isn’t the first time she has been in it, but it feels like the first time because her consciousness is now able to form memories. Her eyes catch the snow globe sitting on the desk and she runs to it. She glances at her father for approval and he nods for her to pick it up. Once the trinket is in her hands, Drew picks the small girl up and places her on his lap as he sits on the bed. “Do you want to know where Daddy got this from?” he asks the three-year-old. Her head vigorously moves up and down. He takes the orb into his hands, turning it over to wind the key at the bottom. The melody of “Silent Night” plays as he begins his story. “Your mommy gave it to me. When we were in middle school…” 

———

Drew loved Christmas time. It meant that he got to spend the Winter break with the Y/L/Ns. This year, they were exploring a little Christmas village that Y/N’s mom found. The hour and a half drive was long, yet worth it once they saw the picture-esque shops covered in snow. Y/N and Drew were old enough to be allowed to go off by themselves and it was exciting for the pair. Drew’s eyes drank in everything and he adored everything about this town. The Christmas music. The small town architecture. The smell of gingerbread cookies in the air. It all brought the holiday to life for him. “God, I wish I could stay in this place forever,” he thought to himself out loud. She caught his words and wanted to make that dream come true. She excused herself for a minute, remembering something she saw inside of a store. She came running back with her hand behind her back and a wide grin on her face. 

“Close your eyes and hold your hands out,” she ordered. He was confused but obeyed her words. His eyebrows met at a point when he heard the familiar tune of “Silent Night”. A weight fell into his hands and his eyelids pulled apart. In his hands was a snow globe. Inside the glass, there was a red-bricked house with a green wreath on the black door. The roof was covered in glittery white snow and more sparkles floated through the water as he moved the orb around in his hands. “Why are you giving me this?” he questioned. She shrugged with a smile, “We can’t exactly stay here forever, so I thought that being able to bring a little piece of it with you would be just as good.” Drew didn’t feel like he needed his jacket anymore because her gesture warmed him up to be burning hot. He knew this was the moment he realized he had fallen in love with the girl who would do anything to make his dreams come true.

———

“And Mommy really did do everything she could to make my dreams come true. She’s the reason why I have an amazing wife, a successful career as an actor, and the most spectacular baby girl in the world,” he recounts. He lifts his daughter into the air and attacks her with kisses. She giggles at the feeling of his lips on her cheeks. He sits back down with her in his lap. He notices she is clinging to the snow globe like her life depends on it. “Auntie Brooke just got in. Come say hello, you two,” Y/N instructs her family. Grace nods and hops off of her father’s lap. She carefully places the symbol of her parents' love on the desk and runs downstairs to greet her aunt.

———

Christmas day, Y/N’s head rests on her husband's chest as everyone watches Grace and her cousins unwrap gifts. The adults love to drink in the Christmas magic coming to life for the kids. Y/N’s nephew places Grace’s next gift onto her lap and her parents watch as she tears apart the paper. Her face lights up at the snow globe she finds. She wobbles a little as her feet plant on the ground and she stands up. She makes her way to Y/N and Drew. Her mother pulls her into the adults’ hold. “Thank you for the snow globe, Daddy,” she says, kissing his cheek. Drew smoothes back her hair, “You’re welcome, Gracie. This is a promise that Daddy is going to do everything he can to help you achieve your dreams.” Grace snuggles into her father’s chest at the promise before going back to opening presents. Drew notices his wife’s gaze and kisses her on the lips. “I guess I’m going to need to get you another snow globe. We wouldn’t want our other baby to feel like their dreams aren’t going to come true,” she whispers to her husband. Drew’s eyebrows furrow for a second and then he fully comprehends her words.

A giant grin crosses his face as he rests a warm hand on her stomach. “I can’t wait for our little family to grow. I can’t believe that I keep having my dreams come true because of you. Having an amazing family with you will always be my biggest dream.” Drew should thank that snow globe because it must have some dream-giving magic. 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @nonbullshit-toleratingkindagirl

[allmyocsarebritish]

Dressed to kill

Pairing: Angel Dust X Reader

Warnings(?): Angel does reader's makeup, and unintentionally pokes them in the eye, I have no idea how to do makeup, this came to me when I found pink eyeshadow

Also yes, that's my eye lololol

"Please, toots. I'm literally beggin ya!" Angel complained once more, dramatically draping himself over the bed beside where you sat.

"I promise ya'll love it if ya just-"

You cut him off with an exaggerated sigh and roll of your eyes, though the amused smile on your lips evidenced your joking tone.

"Alright fine, I suppose it won't hurt."

"Yes! Don't worry babe, I'll make ya look stunnin'!" He practically leaped off the bed at your response, though his movements were unreasonably agile and smooth as usual.

You exhaled a breathy laugh at Angel's excitement, drawing your knees up to your chest whilst watching him search his dresser. Rummaging through the drawers, he pulled out (ha) various small wash bags. Each was a slightly different shade of pink, and all embroidered with his name in extravagant lettering. Satisfied with his collection of supplies, he retreated back to the bed, dumping them all on top of the duvet.

"Ya ready?" Angel grinned, lower set of hands resting on his hips.

"Go ahead." You smiled,resting back against the plush headboard. Angel hovered over you, a knee on either side of your legs. Your face flushed at the sudden proximity, which he immediately picked up on.

"What's wrong baby? A bit too close?~" Angel's words were genuine, though he spoke with a massively flirty tone which drew even more heat to your cheeks.

"N-not at all." Despite the fact you *tried* to match his demeanor, you stuttered over your words and just appeared a flustered mess. Angel chuckled and leant back slightly, allowing you space to breathe as he dug through his eyeshadows.

"I'd start by givin' ya some blush but I really don't think ya need it!" He teased before retrieving a small, silver palette.

"Wait, Ange, hold on, aren't you supposed to start with concealer?" You wondered aloud, mildly confused.

"I suppose ya could, but ya really don't need it, babe" he responded, frowning ever so slightly. "Perfect just the way ya are."

You smiled and thanked him for his sweet compliment, to which he leant down and pecked your nose. Still cupping your cheeks with one set of hands, he opened the palette with another, dusting the pigment onto a brush.

"Close ya eyes for me?" He requested, to which you obliged. The brush was soft against your skin, and Angel's strokes were gentle yet deliberate. You could feel his warm breath fan across your cheeks as he exhaled, deep in concentration. You smiled at the thought of his focused face, wishing that you could open your eyes and see him. It was at that moment that you realised you had no idea what you were going to look like. Of course you trusted Angel almost entirely, but even still you wouldn't put it past him to make you look ridiculous.

"What colour are you doing?" You asked to which he laughed mischievously.

"Wait and see." His response raised your suspicions even further, though you couldn't help but smile at Angel's antics. Your wait wasn't long, however, as a few moments later he leant back, making you immediately miss the contact and warmth brought by your proximity to the spider.

"Open!" Angel's excitement was barely concealed in his tone, and a mirror was thrust into your hand as soon as your eyes adjusted to the bright light of the room after being closed for so long. Your concerns were proven unnecessary by the clean and glittery pink and black eyeshadow adorning your eyelid, perfectly complimenting the colour of your iris.

"Okay, you were right, I do love it." You admitted defeat, wondering why you were skeptical.

"Ya seem surprised. Ain't got no faith in me?" Angel dramatically rested a hand on his chest in mock offence, to which you playfully rolled your eyes.

"No, never." You deadpanned. He scoffed before reaching for an eyeliner pencil.

"Look up." Angel advised, gently pressing down on your cheek to expose your waterline.

Unfortunately the pencil slipped.

"Ow!" You winced, jerking away and squinting your eye closed.

"Fuck, sorry." Angel grimaced as you rubbed it to relieve the stinging from being poked. "Would ya like ta do the other one yourself?" He offered, to which you nodded, trying to surpress a laugh. Balancing the mirror on your knee, you put on the eyeliner yourself, making a point of the lack of casualty.

"I said I'm sorry, what more do ya want from me?"

You shook your head and put down the eyeliner and Angel took his place back on top of you. You rested your hands on his hips for balance.

"So, what's next, love?" You asked, watching as he considered.

"False eyelashes or mascara?"

"Which is less likely to make me lose my eyes?" You teased, yet more reference to the fact he poked you. Angel scoffed and rolled his eyes, reaching for an eyelash curler.

"Uh, no, no, no. There is no way in hell I'm letting you near my eyes with that!"

"Fine, fine!!" He held up all four hands in surrender and dropping it on a cushion.

The next challenge presented itself in the form of Angel trying to put the mascara on you.

"Hold still!"

"No!"

"Toots I swear I won't poke ya in the eye again." He promised, and, though you had your doubts, you sat obediently, allowing him to coat your lashes.

"See! What'd I tell ya?!" He leant back again, proud smile on his lips as he admired his work.

"Ya look stunning, babe." He told you, closing the distance between the two of you. "Just one final touch and then we're done!"

Unscrewing the lid of a lip gloss tube, he made as though he were going to put it on you, before turning at the last second and putting it on himself, looking away. You raised an eyebrow and shook your head, smirk brightening your features.

"Oh ya wanted some?" Angel feigned innocence, dramatically looking into the plastic tube. "That's a shame, there's none left! Guess ya'd better come here then!"

You rolled your eyes and grabbed Angel's small lapels, pulling him into you and kissing him, feeling the product transfer.

"Gee, thanks babe!" You replied, continuing to act like there wasn't multiple full tubes on the bed surrounding you both.

"Ya look amazing, Y/N."

"Thanks Angie, you're so good at makeup. Well, apart from eyeliner." He rolled his eyes at you before leaning in again.

"I told ya! I'm sorry"

"I might have to ask Charlie to schedule a lesson on how not to betray someone's trust like that." You teased, dragging out the joke.

"Of course ya will." He rolled his eyes again.

"I do forgive you though. And thank you, for doing it for me" You wrapped your arms around him and drew him in for a tight hug.

"Any time."

[thedancefloorsilly]

𐐪♡︎₊˚ tsukishima + bokuto :: putting makeup on them

i really really wanted to write for haikyuu :(( i wrote this a while back from my old hq blog, but i had to rewrite part of it because it was kind of bad- im definitely going to start rewriting a bunch of my older fics and headcanons! also tsukki’s is longer bc im starting to love him-

content features: gn! reader, fluff, wc :: 400+

༊*·˚ TSUKISHIMA sits in his desk chair with your hands under his chin, never flinching nor fretting as the tip of your brush easily skims along his eyelid. As much convincing as it took (and as much as he didn’t want to admit), Tsukishima didn’t realize how… nice this would be? With the way you’re gently tipping his chin, the soothing feeling that came with each brush stroke, and the occasional kisses being planted on his forehead, his cheeks, his temple; this attention you poured onto Tsukishima made him feel undeniably warm. As you now start dragging liquid eyeliner on top of his eyeshadow, he breaks the silence “You know this is the last time I'm letting you do this right?” It was evident to both himself and you that Tsukishima was lying. You smile in response, “I dunno know, it seems like you’re kind of enjoying this, Kei.” The lipstick you put on him prior begins accentuates his small smirk. He’s so cute, you think while cupping his face to look at you. Tsukishima’s eyes (adorned with glittery makeup) open to lock with yours, and you couldn’t help but to start planting small butterfly kisses all around his face. His heart began to race and a light pink paints his cheeks, which was hidden underneath the blush you put on him earlier. Once stopping, he looked up at you with a softer expression, “Okay, okay… i might have been enjoying...”

༊*·˚ BOKUTO beams a bright smile into the mirror situated in his hands to admire the new look you gave him, “Damn, baby, ya made me look pretty!” he says, while the red lipstick on him brightens his smile. You grin at his reaction. “Of course I did! How could I not, ‘Kō?” He blushes at your words, and as you now take his face in your hands, you plant a small kiss to his forehead. In response he then cupped your cheek, “Heh, my turn!” In an instant, Bokuto starts planting quick kisses, first to your forehead, then on your temple, to your nose, down to your cheek, all until your entire face was coated with his lipstick stains. “Ok ok, you win, Kõtarō!” you giggle, “Are you done yet?!” He now smirks in response, “Not yet.” In a swift move, Bokuto holds your chin, and engulfs you in a playful yet affectionate kiss. You felt his smile form along his lips, and as you both broke off the kiss, your boyfriend grinned, “See? Looks like we’re both matching now!”

[god-has-entered-my-body]

Lena!! ❤️❤️❤️

I finally thought of a request for my fav MPIND Matty 🤭

Maybe something with girlie using a toy on him? Maybe a vibrator? Overstimulation perhaps?

-Sugar-coat-it <3 <3 <3

@sugar-coat-it This was supposed to just be a short blurb but i got way too carried away xx. hope u like it!!

Rush! - Matty Healy

A/N: This was so fun to write!! MPIND Matty lives in a special corner of my heart i think i might never stop writing for him. @beforeyougo-turnthebiglightoff tysm for being my (half decent) beta reader and making sure this isn't totally shit. Enjoy!! (edit: this is non-canon, so it doesnt have anything to do with the plot of MPIND or its sequel, Before you go)

wc: 9k

content warnings: filthy, semi public?, but also not really, overstimulation, teasing, begging, dom! reader, most of the time, matty is a cocky piece of shite but we love him, grinding, bondage, marking, use of sex toys, specifically a vibrator, what else hmmm, both of them are high, so dubcon?, still in their right mind though, wow the content warnings are long

Everything reeked of cigarette smoke and cheap liquor, hints of Jimmy Choo’s ‘illicit’ lingering in the air around Matty. You scrunched up your nose at the scent, Matty obviously having doused himself in it while you were in the bathroom, straightening your hair. Soft music played in the background, Matty using his turn on the Ipod to put on some ambient stuff George had made (yup, George was a music producer now for some reason? Quarter life crisis vibes.) 

Adam was on his way, his little red Kia primed and ready for a good smoke sesh in some parking lot somewhere. It was nearly winter, which meant going outside was hardly an option considering neither you or Matty actually owned anything resembling warm clothing. 

“I'm not letting you wear my coat again. Remember what happened last time?” he says when he sees your ‘finished’ outfit; a pair of jeans and a sage green long sleeve top, adorned with white and beige rhinestones. How dare he even mention that day, the state you entered the house was completely his fault.

“That only happened because you booked it down the fucking street and left me there!” It was true. The two of you had been sharing his massive coat, both of your bodies easily fitting into it, up until he decided the last four blocks home were to be a sprint, and took his jacket with him.  

“Touché.” he grins as you shake your head at him. Fuck him, honestly. You tell him as much, his only reaction being a simple shrug of his shoulders, and his attention was back on his reflection in the mirror, carefully applying glittery purple liner to his eyelids, giving him a sort of emo-fairy look. Ross’d take the piss out of both of you, all dressed up to go smoke in a car on a wednesday evening, but you knew Matty already had some sort of comeback prepared, about how at least he groomed himself, and wasn't desperate to be a ‘proper’ lad (cue Ross chucking the nearest object he could pick up in Matty’s direction). 

Impatient as ever, you sigh loudly, trying to get Matty to stop hogging the shared vanity. You could always just go back into the bathroom, but his lightbulb was truly shit, and besides, most of the stuff he was using was yours anyway. 

Finally, you give up on trying to keep the piece, and promptly shove him off the chair 

“Stop doing yourself up and move-” he doesn't budge, hanging on to the edge of the desk for dear life, refusing to let you finish getting ready.  

“Violence is never the answer- Fuck off, christs sake, fine!” he whines like a child, getting up and throwing himself on the bed, and you cringe as it creaks loudly beneath him. 

“You love it when I hurt you, shut up.” you tease, watching the look in his eye dramatically change. “Not like this!” he shoots back, flipping you off before grabbing his Ipod, switching to something more punk, heavy drums and guitar filling the space. 

“Touché.” you repeat his own words back to him, and he rolls his eyes, sitting up. Taking the same brush, also using the same color, you frame your eyes with purple eyeshadow, trying your hand at a smokey eye. The two of you were matching more often than not, with Hann’s comments on it slowly getting on your nerves 

“You both look the fucking same, its like you’re clones.” he’d overexaggerate, just to get a reaction out of a easily riled up Matty. 

“D’you reckon Ross’ll have the good stuff this time? I can't deal with Hann’s bickering otherwise.”

You shrug your shoulders, looking at Matty from the corner of your eye. Maybe Adam’s comment rang somewhat true, seeing as Matty was wearing the exact same color scheme you were. Green Jersey top, definitely stolen from George, paired with blue, seventies style jeans, white and red trainers peeking out from beneath the too-long pants.

“I dunno, but we could go to the shop if it's shit, maybe get some wine?” you suggest. It was always 50/50 with Ross, and bad weed always fucked Matty off to no end, making him unbearable. Almost finished, you look around for your mascara, hands rifling through the piles of makeup littering the desk. 

“Where’ve you put the mascara?” you ask, slowly getting annoyed. 

“Left.” he answered curtly, engrossed in the newest edition of vogue. Sure enough there it was, bots of product caked around the cap. Coating your eyelashes with it, you hear Matty stand up and walk over to you. Setting spray topped off your look, and you run your fingers through your hair, smoothing it out. 

Matty isn't particularly strong, but then again, neither are you, so the strong hand around your wrist was useless to fight against, and you let him pull you up. Face to face with Matty, you quirk an eyebrow at him. What was he playing at? 

“You look absolutely gorgeous, darling.” you blush at the compliment, quietly telling him to fuck off, smiling as you see him grin at you. His brown eyes rake over your body, giving you a slow once-over, savoring the sight in front of him. 

“Stop looking at me like that-” he cuts you off with a tug of your hair, smashing his lips against you. Surprised, it takes you a solid few seconds to properly kiss him back, utterly overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the kiss. His tongue immediately shoved past your lips, licking into your lips with fervor, drinking in every small gasp for air. 

“Taste like sugar as well, so sweet.” He pulls you back in, deliberately not giving you an opportunity to answer. You feel his hands wander, trailing down your back and under your shirt, caressing your bare torso. His fingers toy at the band of your bra, teasing the clasps. Refusing to let you go, he presses your body flush against his, and you can sense every inch of him on your skin, like electricity, the smell of him travels up your spine, intoxicating. 

The buzz of your phone snaps you back into reality. The guys, your plans. It takes every ounce of self control in your body to press your hand to his chest, effectively separating the two of you. Matty looks at you with a hurt expression, hands quick to cup your face, desperate to taste you again. Shaking your head, your voice is slightly as you tell him that the others are already outside. 

“I haven't seen George in like three weeks. You're not the only person in the world, you know.” George was up to his eyeballs in Uni coursework (yes, Uni), and hasn't been able to hang out since forever, making you really miss him. 

“I could make you feel like i'm the only person in the world, have all your attention on me.” he says with a wink, tracing your collarbones over your shirt. Matty was a hard person to say no to, with the way he peered down from above you, eyes wide, silently begging you to just stay.

“No.” you say firmly, grabbing your bag from the chair you were previously sitting on and slinging it over your shoulder. Instinctively, Matty takes it from you, holding it out of reach. 

“Can't have you carrying your own bags, what would people think?” he teases, pushing past you and out the door, his footsteps heavy on the carpeted stairs. You follow him, heartbeat finally starting to slow. Already at the front door, Matty waits for you to tug your boots on, leaning against the coat rack as you did. 

“What the fuck was that about, anyway?” The way he kissed you was passionate, hot, and definitely not something you just do on a whim. He tries to play innocent, raising his eyebrows and shrugging his shoulders. 

“Nothing, just wanted a peck.” he answered, running his fingers through his slightly damp hair, still not fully dry from the shower he had taken a few hours prior. You scoff, looking at him in a ‘are you serious?’ type way. 

“You fucking jumped on me, don’t be a such a dickhead.” you feel around for your cigarettes and light, smiling fondly as you realize it's the one Matty had gifted to you. “What was your end goal? You know we’re about to meet with the others!” 

“I’m sorry for kissing my girl, jesus,” he exhales sharply, hand reaching for the doorknob, a loud honk sounding from the other side. Swinging the door open, Hann looks truly fucked off as the two of you walk down the driveway and climb into the car. Now usually, you would sit in the middle, between George and Matty, letting you comfortably lean forward to talk to Ross and Adam in the front, but it seems as though Matty had other plans. 

Shoving past you, he settled into the middle seat, setting your bag on the floor next to your leather clad feet. George looks over, slightly confused at the new seating arrangement, but accepts it, going back to rolling the first spliff. The car starts, sputtering before actually turning on, Hann letting out a sigh of relief. There had been multiple occasions where his ‘precious baby’, as he called her, refused to start, leaving all of you stranded until Ross somehow managed to find the problem and fix it. 

“See, this is what I mean,” Hann gestures to you and Matty, facing primarily Ross “They look like fucking clones of each other, its weird.” Matty reaches past the headrest and tries to smack him, causing the car to sway slightly as his hands leave the steering wheel.

“I’m trying to drive, fucks sake.” Hann mutters, pissed off now that Matty had almost made him crash the car. You set a firm hand on the dark haired boy's shoulder, lightly pulling him back into his seat. His legs are firmly pressed up against you now, and you feel a familiar tingling sensation blossom under your skin. 

“Try to go steady, ‘m almost done.” George has this legendary talent of being able to roll the perfect spliff in even the most impractical situations, making him a god in Hann’s eyes. The car slows down slightly, and you see George lick the spliff closed, admiring his work. Matty immediately snatches it out of his hands, grinning from ear to ear as he sniffs at it, the smell filling his senses. 

“God, you’re so fucking weird, mate.” Ross grimaces as he eyes Matty, watching him try to evenly light the spliff, failing miserably. Both you and Ross couldn't stand the earthy, stuffy smell of weed, constantly begging Hann to roll down the windows whenever someone decided to smoke in the car. Matty, however, had some sort of hash-fetish, and absolutely loved the smell of it, hotboxes being his favorite activity ever. He thought it heightened the experience, which was a load of shite, but he believed in nonetheless. 

You were almost there, the Mcdonald’s parking lot being your end destination. Taking the scenic route, the five of you passed the spliff around, partially skipping Adam so as to not get him completely off his tits while he was driving. Matty agreed to rolling down the windows, seeing how nauseous Ross looked, with you not being far behind. Wind raked through your hair as you leaned your head onto the edge of the car.

Feeling at ease, peaceful and very, very high, you don't even notice Matty’s hand trailing up your thigh. He was just like that, touchy and overly affectionate with everyone, not just you, though, the type of affection did differ slightly. Scratching your skin lightly, you feel his fingers claw at the thin material of your jeans, grabbing hold of your panties through them. Your eyes snap up to meet his, and he pulls suddenly, letting go of the elastic. It hits your skin with a muffled smack, and you jump, noticing Ross’ eyes on you, peering over his shoulder. 

Slightly disoriented, you don't even register Matty wrapping his fingers around the base of your neck, pulling you in for a hot, definitely too passionate kiss. Yelping in surprise, you sigh, almost inaudibly, into the kiss, letting him take control for a few seconds. George groans as he spots the two of you, dramatically shielding his eyes. 

Realsing where you actually were, you pull away, shooting Matty a look that can only be described as ‘what the actual fuck was that?’. His skin is flushed, matching the color of his droopy eyes. Hann doesn't seem to have noticed Matty’s little PDA stunt in the back seat, blissfully unaware of the reason Ross was grimacing right now. 

“I'd rather not see you snog, thanks.” Ross spits out, making a fake gagging motion as his eyes meet George’s, equally as unsettled as he was. Adam hadn’t seen the two of you, but the mental image was enough to make him join the other two in their disgust. 

“What, you jealous mate? You can ask to join, it's no problem.” Ross laughs sarcastically, taking the spliff out of George's hands, taking a deep drag. He could sense Matty wasn't finished yet. 

“You’d have to shave first, can't have you shedding all over my girl.” You still weren't used to him actually calling you that. It felt off, especially with your three other best mates staring at the two of you, silently wishing Matty would just shut the fuck up, for once. He was killing the soft, chilled out atmosphere with his incessant loud babbling, making George roll his eyes until you were sure they were going to get stuck there.

Ignoring the various groans of protest, he pulls you back in, basically climbing on top of you now. You giggle, partially because of the distinct floaty feeling clouding your mind, and partially because of Matty’s complete lack of shame, making him snog your face off just to rile up his mates, not really knowing how much it affected you. You pretend to be annoyed, shoving him off of you, wiping your mouth to really drive home the point. 

“For the love of god, Matty, stop humping her, she's probably sick of you by now.” Hann says, making sympathetic eye contact with you in the mirror. He knew how you felt about the kissing in front of the rest of the group, not wanting to alienate them from you and Matty’s dynamic. The whole thing was a complicated mess. 

His hand is still on your thigh as you squirm around a bit, you manage to gather your thoughts and speak for yourself. 

“I quite am, fuck off, Matthew.” he tenses. 

Now, to anyone else, you sound completely normal, if maybe a bit fucked off. Purposefully putting distance between you two, Ross reaches back and hands you the almost done spliff, and you inhale lightly, finishing it off. Matty is uncharacteristically quiet and you know he can feel your eyes on him. A warning. 

He was prone to acting out like this, loud and obnoxious, almost bratty. To Ross, George, and Hann, this was normal, his fits a cry for attention, wanting all eyes on him, but to you, it meant so much more. 

Stubbing out the joint, you throw it out the window, dangling your arm down the side of the car. George was calm, collected, and seemed to be enjoying life as Adam finally parked in your usual spot, turning the car off. Spreading your legs out more, you bump your thigh against Matty’s, making him twitch slightly, a soft smile spreading onto your face. 

“Matty.” you say, his eyes darting up to meet yours.

“Mhm?” nudging him, you lift both your legs up and onto his lap, draping yourself over him. George is a bit startled, but guides you over his lap as well, letting your feet settle against the other side of the car, pressed up against the door. 

“Fag?” George asks, holding out a pack of cigarettes in your direction. You happily take one, and so does Matty. Placing it between your lips, you watch George as he hands Matty his lighter after he lights his. His fingers fumble a bit, before finally flicking it on and inhaling the smoke, letting the nicotine mix with the weed, his face nothing but blissed out. It reminded you of what he looked like when he-

“Here.” he mumbles, holding the lighter in front of your face. 

“Do it for me?” you ask sweetly, leaning your elbows against the back of your seat and the headrest of Hann’s, making yourself comfortable. His breath hitches as you shift, the bottom of your thigh pressing against his crotch. Two can play at that game.

The flame paints his face in an orange hue, and you feel the world close on around you. The way his delicate hand holds up the light to your cigarette makes your head spin, and not just from the weed. You feel George shift beneath you on the other side of the car, rifling through his pockets, pulling out a small baggie and rolling papers, getting to work rolling another spliff. 

Hanns voice rings dully in your ears, asking George to hurry up a bit, saying he was nowhere near the level of high he wanted to be at right now.

“Let me do it, stop nagging.” George's movements are slower, his motor skills definitely more than just slightly inhibited. 

“Good?” Matty asks, your attention turning back to him. His eyes are glazed over, red and half closed, and his hair falls over his face, indicating he’s long overdue for another haircut. Mattys hands settle on your knees, rubbing small circles over the bone, warmth blooming underneath your skin wherever he touches. You refused to let it show, opting to lean your head further out the window, admiring the stars glimmering above you, the cold of the night biting at your cheeks. 

Matty can tell you’re cold by the way you shiver slightly, and he feels a bit bad, even if he did tell you to bring some sort of extra layer. 

“I’m fucking freezing.” you state to the car, Ross turning around to face you, lowering his seat back a bit despite Georges protests. 

“There's a blanket in the back, I think.” Hann nods in agreement, confirming his statement. Knowing you wouldn't be able to reach, Matty blindly feels around for it, fingers meeting a slightly scratchy, but still soft, knitted blanket. 

Draping it over you, his hands linger on your waist, goosebumps forming on your skin as his nails graze your tattoo. 

George is finally finished with the spliff, and hands it to Hann so he can light it. He greedily inhales, letting the feeling overtake him. A soft groan leaves his lips and you see the back of his head slouch against the headrest, lolling off to the side. 

“This is some good shit, no wonder Matty’s so quiet.” Hann mumbles, half to himself. 

“Told you, my guy’s the real deal.” Ross says with pride, like he’d grown it himself or something. Putting his feet up on the dashboard, he leans back, head craning to talk to Hann. Their conversation is quiet, meaningless, with Ross going on about his stupid bass instruments and chatting pure shit to a half dozed-off Adam.

George is in his own world, gazing out the window and off into the distance. He was tired, you can tell by the way the rings under his eyes were dark and prominent, evidence that he hadn't been sleeping much these days. Uni was truly kicking him in the arse. 

A loud sigh from Matty makes you snap out of your thoughts, flexing your toes a bit, trying to stretch without bothering George too much. You feel a tap on your leg, telling you it's fine, and that you can move freely. George smiles at you from across the back seat, stoned out of his mind and looking like he was ready to pass out in the next five seconds.

“Y’alright?” you ask Matty, who keeps shifting around beneath you. One particular movement makes your legs spread, his big palms gripping the side of your left thigh, kneading the flesh. 

His eyes flash up to yours, and the look he gives you is fucking delicious. Lips slightly parted, wet and swollen from his teeth gnawing at them for the past half hour, the sight makes your thighs clench, a cough escaping your lips.

The spliff makes its way to you, and you take a drag, your lips wrapping around it as you make direct eye contact with Matty. Your lipgloss rubs off on the filter, and you hand it to him with a smirk.

“I’m fucking knackered, I need to sleep.” George's deep voice cuts through the silence, and Hann nods in agreement.

“We’ve been here like an hour! We never hang out, let's stay for a bit.” Ross protests, sitting properly and trying to face everyone at the same time. 

“Yeah, let's.” you side with him. Matty’s eyes widen at your statement, and he goes to speak. A sharp look makes him rethink his actions, and he slumps backwards into the leather, pouting at you. You grin at him playfully, seeing him start to do the same, before pressing your leg down, right onto his crotch. Underneath the blanket, not one could see what you were doing, giving you the perfect opportunity to fuck with Matty 

“Fine, but I'm driving home in 20, whoever doesn't want to walk is coming with.” The tinge of annoyance in Hann’s voice is painfully obvious.

Time passes at a snail's pace as you continue your movements, thigh pressing down onto his steadily hardening cock ever so slightly, not wanting George to figure you out.

“D’you reckon Britney’s a good shag?” Ross asks, and you realize he’s holding a magazine, Britney Spears plastered onto the cover.

“Mate, maybe you shouldn’t-” George starts, but another voice cuts him off. 

“Probably, I mean, just look at her.” it's Matty speaking, you realize. 

His voice is drawn out and deep as he holds out his hand, silently requesting Ross to give him the paper. He’s taunting you, and fuck, is it getting to you. The way his eyes scan over the cover makes your blood boil, and you stare him down, warning him to stop. 

“She’s fit.” He says, refusing to look at you as he takes a drag from the spliff, passing it on. His eyes finally dart over to yours, reading you like an open book. You were jealous, and he knew it. It was his goal, after all, to rile you up enough so you knew how he’d been feeling since that moment in your room. 

“Hey Hann? I'm feeling a bit shit.” you lie through your teeth “Can we go?”. Ross tries to stop him, but with the vote being 4-1, he groans as the car sputters on, and Hann backs out of the lot. 

You go to sit normally, putting as much distance between you and Matty as physically possible, not even looking in his general direction. Not really speaking to anyone, you listen to the soft sound of the radio, the music distracting you a bit. Matty’s eyes are glued to you, watching your every reaction, you can feel it. He silently begs you to stop being mean, ignoring him like this. You almost cave. Almost.

The drive feels longer than it actually is, George being dropped off at his house first. He waves goodbye through the window, which is the only reason you turned to the other side. Eyes avoiding the boy next to you, you blow George a kiss goodbye, hoping he gets some actual sleep tonight. 

You and Matty were now both facing forward, chatting to Ross. 

“Must be great, having an whole fucking house to yourself.” Ross grunts out, clearly still fucked off that you decided to leave so ‘early’. 

“It is,” Matty answers, telling him how nice it was to live without his parents and with you, even if neither of you had the ability to prepare an edible meal, or clean the house every once in a while. You chuckle as his words, painfully true as you think back on the state you’d left your room in, clothes and books and various items strewn about the place.  

Matty turns to you, your small giggles at his story making him think he was off the hook. You shoot him a look, and he immediately retreats, knowing it wouldn't be that easy. Not that he didn’t like a challenge, especially from you.

“Alright, you two.” Hann breathes as the car comes to a halt in front of the house. The soft rumble of the engine was deafening as you opened the door, climbing out of the vehicle. Matty followed quickly, almost banging his head against the roof, narrowly avoiding a small concussion. You tapped on the window, waving goodbye to both men in the car. Flashing a smile, you turn to Matty, grabbing his hand and leading him up the steps. 

Inside the car, the conversation quickly shifted. 

“What's going on with them? They’ve hardly spoken since he stopped trying to jump her bones in front of us.” Ross just shrugs, mind spinning different scenarios of what could've gone down. 

“D’you think they’re fighting?” Hann nods, noting that you did look a bit pissed off towards the end. 

“I dunno, it's weird though.. them being a thing.” Ross hums in agreement. 

“Just leave them be, they’ll sort it out.” 

The click of the door unlocking was as loud as a jet engine, and you push it open with your shoulder, Matty trailing closely behind you. You take your time, taking off your shoes, setting your bag down onto the floor next to the coat rack. He fidgets on the spot, not quite sure what to do next. 

Without warning, you spin around, shoving him backwards into the door, both your hands on his shoulders. The tension is thick, his heavy breaths loud and desperate for you to fucking do something. 

A beat passes between you before he finally speaks, stuttering over his words. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t h-have fucked you off, not infront of everyone.” you raise your eyebrows at him, a condescending smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. 

“So you knew what you were doing then, trying to rile me up like that?” He nods, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he swallows. He mutters out another “‘m sorry”, like it was going to save him at all. 

Your hands trace his collarbones, just like he had not three hours prior, and you see his breath hitch when you dig your nails into his skin, leaving behind red indents. 

“You wanna kiss me?” you ask, tucking his hair behind his ear sweetly, letting your fingers run over his jaw. 

“Yes.” he gasps, your chest now fully pressed up against his, your bodies now flush. Mattys eyes are filled with desperation, lust, thoughts clouding his mind and the sight of you wasn't helping him think clearly. 

“How badly do you want to kiss me?” he tries to speak, but you shush him. “How much do you want to touch me?” 

A guttural groan leaves his lips, and his hands find your back, grabbing onto your waist for support. You look at him expectantly, tapping his face to get his attention back on you. 

“Please, I'm sorry, just– fuckk, please darling.” His voice is small, soft, filled with want and desire. He pulls you in closer, and you feel him, fully hard, pressed up against your upper thigh. Your hand travels lower, pushing his shirt up as you go down, fingertips ghosting over his bulge, leaking and painfully hard. 

“This all for me?” Matty looks like he’s going to combust, but still, he manages to force out a small, choked ‘yes’. 

“You think you deserve it?” He freezes as you squeeze him through his jeans, feeling him twitch in your hand. A desperate whimper rips itself from his lips, and he buries his head in the crook of your neck, breathing shallowly.

“I’m sorry, just– please. I’ll do anything, just fucking touch me please, please, oh god–” 

You mouth at the spot where his neck meets his jaw, sucking an aggressive hickey into the skin, simultaneously stroking him over his clothes. Trying to seem unaffected, you pull away from his cock, placing that hand over his chest, hearing him whine at the loss of contact. 

“Upstairs. Wait for me.” Those four words manage to leave him absolutely breathless as he scrambles to tug his shoes off, throwing them into the corner. One last look is directed at you over his shoulder as he walks up the steps, almost tripping. Catching himself on the bannister, he disappears from view. 

You use the moment to take several deep breaths, steading yourself. Matty might be the more expressive one, but he had this effect on you, even if he didn't know the full extent of it. Every reaction you elicited from him made your knees weak, your fa��ade of control slipping slightly. Running your fingers through your hair, you glance at yourself in the hallway mirror, making sure you look good. Good enough to send Matty fucking spiraling. 

The house is silent, apart from the odd creak of the floorboards underneath your feet. The door to your room crashes against the wall and you push it open, eyes immediately finding Matty.

Jesus christ.

Sprawled out on top of crumpled sheets, Matty’s eyes rake over your body, his cock visibly twitching in his pants at the sight of you. He had already taken off his shirt, the material bunched up next to him. The atmosphere in the room is heavy, thick with lust and desire and want and every other adjective that could be used to describe the fucking wet dream of a man currently sitting on your bed.  

His hands trail up his chest, toying with his nipples as he bites his lip at you, a wild look in his eyes. Your feet take you to the foot of the bed, kneeling down onto it, not quite sure where to look. His skin is flushed a deep shade of red, the blush spreading from his face down his chest, which was rapidly moving up and down as you reached out to touch him. 

“How do you feel?” your voice shakes, and you know he can tell. Does it actually matter to you at the moment? Absolutely not. 

An indecipherable sigh leaves Mattys lips as he looks at you, curls sticking to his forehead and his cock rock hard against the fabric of his jeans.

“I feel–” he starts, words getting caught in his throat as you trace the inseam of his pants. You still, motioning for him to continue.

“I feel so good, please touch me, I need you so bad. So gorgeous like this, love you so much– jesus.” 

You listen to his rambles as his eyes screw shut, everything being far too much for him. It's delicious, the way he squirms under even the slightest touch, involuntary noises spilling from his lips.

He trusted you, and you knew that well enough. Your entire relationship was built on a foundation of trust, a promise that you would never, ever, harm each other. Your hand reaches up to clasp his, squeezing gently. He smiles softly, wiping away the beads of sweat that had collected themselves on his forehead. 

Your eyes glance over to the nightstand next to the bed, the wooden exterior a stark contrast to the otherwise black furniture of the room. The bed creaks as you get up, slowly pulling the drawer open. Matty watches you move, fluid and sure, as you take out a vibrator, you hear a small gasp escape him.

“You want me, Matthew? Want to be good for me?” you grin at him, throwing one of your legs over his lap, settling right below his hips. The way his cock is straining against the zipper of his jeans couldn't be comfortable in the slightest, but you let him suffer longer, relishing in the way he whined whenever you shifted on top of him, just like he did in the car. 

“Will you let me use this on you?” That question is the final nail in the coffin, an animalistic groan ripping itself from the depths of Mattys throat as you palm him through his pants, beads of precum painting the front. 

“Please,” his voice cracks slightly, eyes silently begging for some sort of relief. 

“You know, you really shouldn’t have pulled that little stunt.” you speak, voice dripping with honey as you unbuckle his belt, the clanking metal making your heart speed up. Unable to speak, Mattys hands go to settle on your waist, gripping the fat of your hips. 

“No.” 

“W-what?” 

His chest heaves as you grab hold of his wrists, pinning them up above his head. The belt he wore with his pants, while usually completely unnecessary, suddenly proved quite useful. Your hands fumble a bit as you bring the leather up, binding his hands to the metal bed frame. The arousal plastered on his face was impossible to hide as he gives the belt a tug, sucking in a deep breath of air when he realized what you’d just done. 

“You’re so fucking– holy shit, you’re perfect.” his praises go straight to your core, and you grind down onto his thigh, feeling around for the vibrator that you’d placed somewhere next to you. 

Towering over him, you observe. 

It feels like you're daydreaming, the man in front of you just a figment of your dirty, vivid imagination. His skin glistened with sweat, and your eyes flicker down to the bulge in his black calvins. If there was a heaven, you’ve definitely reached it. 

Running your fingers up and down the vibrator, you grin at him, watching his thoughts run wild, every possible fantasy playing out right in front of his eyes. Clicking the toy on, you rake your nails over his chest, the loud vibrations filling the room. 

You had never done this before, but the utter look of devotion Matty gave you proved that he trusted you completely to do whatever you wanted to him. He follows your movements closely as you press the toy to the underside of his cock. Immediately, you see his eyes clamp shut, his hands instinctively pulling and fighting against the restraints. 

“You like that, baby? Feel good?” you coo at him, taking in every single twitch of his body, savoring it. He frantically nods his head as you move his boxers, letting his cock slap up against his stomach. The feeling of the vibrator straight onto his weeping erection felt like pure heaven, desperate moans spilling from his lips, unable to control his own actions. 

“F-feels so good, it’s so good, a-ah, fuck me–” he whimpers as you up the speed, your free hand cupping his face, smudging his eye makeup. Blissed out and shaking, Matty tries to hold off as long as possible, desperately wanting to be good for you.  

“I can’t– I'm so close, please, let me cum.” his eyes search your expression, begging for permission. Pleasure trickles up your own spine as a sudden movement of Matty’s thigh beneath you makes you grind against him again, a soft moan leaving your parted lips. You swear you could cum just from the sight of him alone, twitching and begging and so, so close to the edge he could taste it on the tip of his tongue. 

Shoving your fingers into his mouth, you watch as he chokes slightly, eyes welling up with tears. It's so unbelievably erotic, seeing him fall apart like this, all because of you. His dick twitches in the tell-tale way that lets you know he’s seconds away, just needing a little push. You lock your lips onto his neck, licking and sucking and biting marks into the skin, making him moan around your fingers. It's all too much for him, and his voice cracks once more before spilling into your hand, painting his stomach and the toy with ropes of thick cum, gasping and shuddering as you keep the vibrator against his cock, working him through his orgasm. 

You finally kiss him, fingers weaving through his hair as you lick into his mouth, his arms still helplessly trying to pull free. 

“That was– fuck– I can’t even describe it.'' His voice is raspy, sore. He looks utterly fucked out, a sly grin already adorning his face not ten seconds after you gave him the most mind blowing orgasm of his life.

“You dont think I'm done, do you? After the shit you pulled in that car?” 

Your sudden change in tone makes Matty’s eyes widen, his hips bucking up against you. The evil look in your eye as you lean down to catch his lips in a kiss only makes him impossibly more turned on, fingers itching to touch you, a groan of frustration leaving his lips when he realizes he can't do anything but lay there and take what you give him. You move, one of your hands leaving his chest. 

“What are you–?” The click of the toy is impossibly loud as a wanton moan rips itself from his throat, his hips twitching away, the sensation overwhelming and raw, almost too much. You grin from ear to ear as you study his reactions, writhing and pulling at the belt holding him in place, eyes silently begging you to just let him go.

“A-ah oh fuckk, no- I can’t–” he cries, arching his back, exposing his neck even more, adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he tries to swallow down his sounds

“You can, I know you can.” you lick across the expanse of his collarbones, teeth grazing the skin harshly, the slight pain only making Matty thrash more, the leather of the belt digging into his wrists.

“It’s too much– jesus christ-” he chokes out as you tangle a hand into his thick curls, tugging his head forward, making him look at you.

“Look how desperate you are, you sure it's too much?” you press a kiss to his lower stomach, his muscles tense under the skin.

“I need you so bad, fuck,” he sucks in a deep breath, making direct eye contact with you.

“Look at what you do to me.” 

His sudden change in tone makes you take a second, truly taking in the sight before you. He smirks when he sees you staring, arching his lower back with the sole purpose of riling you up, knowing exactly how to get to you, and in turn, get what he wanted. 

“Such a slut, fucking begging for attention, aren’t you?” he nods slowly, winking at you provocatively as his eyes follow your movements. The name made his breath hitch, and the return of the toy back on his hardening cock feels like pure ecstasy, moans and whimpers spilling from his lips as you continued speaking. 

“Was it worth it?” he cocks his head at you, asking what you meant. 

“Was it worth it, fucking around in the car, embarrassing me like that?”  

“Absolutely, if it gets me this.” he purrs, trying to provoke you once again. You were going to make him eat his words if it was last fucking thing you were going to do.

“You have a lot of confidence for someone who was grinding against my leg under a blanket not even an hour ago.” A small laugh comes from Matty as he playfully tugs at the restraints, the sound morphing into a moan when you press the toy down harder, feeling him getting close again. 

“Gonna cum again, make a filthy fucking mess of yourself?” Matty is so far gone, his cocky persona falling away in bits as he bucks his hips against the vibrator, chasing his high. You watch him, sweaty and out of breath, his hands straining against the leather, the mix of pain and pleasure making his head spin. 

“I love you so much, please let me cum, please i’ll do anything, just let me cum–” there it is. Anything. He doesn't know the weight his words hold, willing to say everything and anything for you to let him fall over that delicious edge.    

“Cum for me, let me see you.” your voice shakes, one hand planted firmly on his chest for balance, while the other holds the toy to his cock, twitching and leaking all over himself and you as he cums, screaming your name loud enough that it echoed through the whole house. 

You watch as he shakes, gasping for air and writhing against the sheets, so overstimulated he could barely form a coherent thought. 

“Again.” you whisper as Matty shakes his head violently, tears welling up in his eyes. 

“Do you want to stop?” he shakes his head again, hips bucking up against the toy, desperate whines and groans filling the room. His chest heaves, lungs expanding as far as they could go to try and bring some oxygen to his brain. Breathless and exhausted, he looks at you, eyes wet and pleading, the mix of pain and pleasure driving him insane. 

“Don’t s-stop.” he begs, voice sore and hoarse. Thoughts run widely through your mind, wondering how much more he could take before tapping out. “If you need to stop, tell me.” you say firmly, his frantic nods telling everything you needed to know. Clicking the toy back on, the reaction is immediate, visceral as he jerks under the warm feel of your lips on his jaw, pressing hot kisses down the skin, mouthing at his neck. 

Pulling back, you admire the deep purple marks you left behind, tracing them with your free hand. 

“You’re fucking glorious- I- I could look at you forever, so pretty on top of me, fuck, like a fucking wet dream, so perfect–” you listen to him babble through curses and moans, eyes drooping shut as he bucks up into your hand. 

“Yeah? You’re so gorgeous for me, taking everything I give you.” you whisper back, pupils completely blown out with lust, the high you were still yet to come down from heightening every feeling, every sensation, until you were grinding against his thigh, desperate for him. 

“I see you, baby,” your eyes snap up to his, a filthy smirk spread onto his face, “C’mon, use me like a toy, use me to get off.” his voice is sultry and low, working hard to bite back screams as you finally give in, sparks of electricity shooting up your spine as you increase the pressure on your clit, soft moans and gasps spilling from your lips as Matty tenses his thigh, lifting it slightly to meet your movements. 

“Don’t cum until I tell you.” you warn, refusing to give up power, even if Matty made it incredibly fucking difficult to not give in. His eyeliner was smudged, tears streaming down his face, your fingers wiping them away sweetly. You bring your tear soaked hand to your mouth, licking it clean while making direct eye contact with Matty, the expression on his face making the salty taste on your tongue completely worth it.

It didn't take much to bring you to the edge, the warmth in your core blooming everywhere else in your body, your blood feeling hot as you balance yourself. Being met with Matty’s smirk as you look up, the smugness quickly morphs into white hot pleasure when your hand finds his nipple piercing, giving it a small tug. 

You had convinced him to switch it out, the black metal ring being replaced with a purple barbell. It shimmered if you looked at it from a specific angle, a perfect contrast to his milky white skin, suiting him well. He gasps when you don't let up, tweaking the metal and rolling his nipple between your fingertips, an indescribable feeling radiating from his chest, making all the remaining blood in his brain rush down south. 

You were so close, you could taste it. Matty knew this, doing his best to get you there, just as you were doing for him, holding off his own orgasm. Filthy words leave his mouth, making you feel dizzy with pleasure, the feeling of his jean clad thigh against your clit making your legs shake on top of him. 

“So good, you’re so good– fucking marvelous, I could write a thousand songs about you like this.” he groans, eyes never leaving the spot where your core met his leg, watching closely. 

“I’m so close, fuckk.” you whine, your high pitched voice like music to Matty’s ears, his cock visibly twitching against the toy. 

“Cum for me darling, wanna see you fall apart on top of me.” he coos, and you feel your control slipping. It was all consuming, the pleasure making time slow as you barely manage to slow down to speak. 

“You first.” A relieved sigh leaves Matty’s lips, hips bucking violently, precum bubbling from his tip, coating your hand where you held the toy against it. One last arch of his back and he cums onto his stomach, painting his skin white. 

You groan at the sight, your own orgasm hitting you like a freight train, vision whiting out as you buck against Mattys thigh, his eyes burning a hole into your skin. He watches in awe as you gasp and stutter, the visual of his third climax too much for you to handle, carnal desire overtaking your body. 

Collapsing on top of him, your chest heaves against his, everything blurry and disoriented. He tried to move his hands to your back to hug you, but realizes he’s still tied up, the leather really digging into his skin, leaving angry red marks. 

“Darling?” you look up, apologizing profusely as you undo the belt around his wrists, kissing the burns it left behind. Matty chuckles quietly, running a soft hand through your hair, pressing your face into his chest. 

“That was..” he starts, eyes still wide in disbelief. 

“Okay?” you offer a hint of insecurity evident in the way you speak.

“Fucking amazing, visceral, undescribable, life chang-” you cut him off with a firm kiss, silently telling him to shut up. He giggles into the kiss, his other hand pressing against your lower back, pulling you impossibly close. 

“It wasn’t too much?” you ask, gesturing to the marks on his wrists. He shakes his head, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. He assures you it doesn't hurt at all, and besides, “You know I like it when you hurt me.” The cheesy wink that follows his statement makes you roll your eyes, leaning down to breathe in the scent of him. Fucking Jimmy Choo, ugh. 

“You have to stop using my perfume, you smell like a woman, it's unsettling.” you complain, wishing he’d use some sort of musky cologne instead. 

“I thought you liked it when i'm girly? Remember that time when I wore that skirt and you fucking mauled me–'' he tries to tease, being rudely interrupted by you digging the heel of your foot into his leg, making him yelp in pain. 

“That was different,” you mutter, avoiding his taunting gaze. 

“Was it?” 

“Absolutely, yes, now come here.” you grip his jaw, crashing your mouth against his, biting his lower lip, enjoying the small gasp he lets out. The kiss is hot, filled with love and trust, your heart swelling up in your chest.��

“Don’t ever pull that shit again, George could have noticed and that would've been a complete shit show-” you shudder at the thought of your mates knowing anything about your sex life, gagging inwardly.  

“You were the one grinding your leg down on to my dick, don’t act all fucking innocent!” he protests, a playful tone to his voice. 

“Imagine Ross knowing anything about what we do, he’d lose his mind.” you comment. Knowing him, he’d physically throw up and never speak to either of you ever again, the mental image having scarred him for life.

Matty is oddly silent, his hands fidgeting. Your eyes widen in realization 

“Dont tell me you fucking– Matty!” you shut your eyes, embarrassment flooding your body. 

“He’s my mate, and he asked. Who am I to deny him?” you hit his chest, propping yourself up as you laugh in disbelief. 

“Ross asking doesn't make it any better!!” you screech, watching him pull back at the sheer volume of your voice “For fuck’s sake Matty, what did you even tell him? I’m never going to be able to look him in the eye again, fucking hell.”  

“Just about the camera, nothing else, I swear!” you cup your face, letting out a frustrated groan. 

“You know I can never speak to him ever again? The fucking camera, are you taking the absolute fucking piss?!” you throw curses at him as he giggles into your hair, muttering apologies and promising to never say anything again.

“‘M sorry darling, i won't give out the details of our sex life anymore.” he jokes, earning a choked giggle from you, unable to stay mad at him. 

Looking up at him from your spot on his chest, anger fades as you take in his features. You could look at him forever if he let you, drinking in every inch of skin, committing it all to memory. Your fingertips touch the top of his cheeks, wiping away any left over make-up, smiling fondly as you do so. 

Love. That's what you see in his eyes. Pure love, utter devotion. His breathing is slow, the soft sound of his heartbeat comforting as you lay back down onto him, nuzzling your face into his skin. You could stand the permeating stench of Jimmy Choo if it let you hold him this close to you. 

“You’re mine.” he mumbles into your hair, stroking up and down your spine, pushing your shirt up. 

“I’m yours,” you answer, this overwhelming feeling of adoration taking over your whole body. Matty was yours, and you were his, from the second he said the words ‘I love you’ that night on the terrace, overlooking the glowing city. 

Life with him seems so real. Growing up properly, getting your own house, getting married. It was all possible, still, it felt far away, a distant future. You let your thoughts spin in your mind until the exhaustion won, your body going slack against Matty, soft snores filling the room.

Matty lays awake beneath you, the darkness of the room enveloping his senses. 

“I love you so much,” he mutters under his breath, knowing you couldn't hear him anyway. That was the moment he knew, the moment everything solidified.

You were just kids, the pair of you, young and free, life filled with infinite possibilities. So much was uncertain, but he knew one thing without a doubt. Eyes flickering over to his coat, they fell on the outermost left pocket. It wasn't about the pocket itself, but what was inside. Dark red velvet, the same shade as your favorite color. A box. 

A small one.  

read part two here xx

[amiserableseriesofevents]

Wherever you find love (it feels like Christmas)

24 Clegan Christmas drabbles for 24 days!

Prompt from here (but randomized)

[Day 1] [Day 2] [Day 3] [Day 4] [Day 5] [Day 6] [Day 7] [Day 8] [Day 9] [Day 10] [Day 11] [Day 12] [Day 13]

[Read on AO3]

Day 14: Christmas tree

Post-war AU, wc 898

John steps heavily into their living room, deposits on the floor the last box of Christmas ornaments he brought back from Wisconsin. “Ok, that’s it. We ready, Buck?” He asks, enthusiasm clear in his voice.

Gale moves his gaze from the three boxes lying on the floor, all full to the brim with baubles and tinsel, to the small Christmas tree that sits unadorned in the far corner of the room. “I don’t think it’s all gonna fit up there, John,” he says. “You may have a bit overdone it.”

“Nonsense,” John scoffs. “There’s no such thing as overdoing it with Christmas decorations, trust me. Our tree is going to be the most beautiful in the whole neighborhood!”

“If you say so,” Gale concedes with a soft smile, kneeling to rummage through the first box. He pulls out of it a beautiful glass bauble, golden with tiny white snowflakes scattered along its surface. “This is very beautiful,” he says, scanning the tree with keen eyes to decide what’s the best spot for it and when he finds it he strings the bauble up with the utmost care and then steps back, as of to admire his work.

John watches him fondly for a few seconds, his heart swelling with love, then picks up a silver bauble from another box and places it next to Buck’s.

“Oh. So the theme is gonna be gold and silver?” Gale enquires, perplexed.

“Theme? What do you mean, there’s no theme, just ornaments!” John responds. He doesn’t miss the slight twitch in Buck’s eyelid at his answer, but he decides to move past it.

The next ornament Buck picks up, after a long and attentive search, is a ceramic nutcracker dressed in green. He places it near the top of the tree, looking satisfied; then John places a blue bauble with red glittery stripes next to Buck’s golden one, and the other guy’s eyelid twitches again.

They go back and forth for a while, Gale going slower and thinking carefully about where to put baubles, gingerbread men, nutcrackers, marzipan houses, while John simply picks up what he likes most and hangs everything where he sees fit. That’s how it’s always worked in the Egan household, he’s not doing it on purpose — not at first, at least. But the more he sees Buck fighting teeth and nails not to lose his calm on him, eyelids twitching so harshly it seems like he’s constantly winking and a heavy strain on his voice whenever John asks what does he think about this ornament or that one, the more John wants to push him to his breaking point.

“You good Buck?” He asks once in a while, and struggles to hide his smirk when Gale’s response comes through gritted teeth, “Perfectly fine, John.”

The breaking point is eventually reached when John goes to place a pink bauble right next to a red and green one, with Buck snatching it from his hand with a hissed, exasperated, “Don’t.”

John chuckles. “What’s wrong, Buck?”

“You’re decorating this tree like you’re colorblind, John. Are you? Did they hit you in the head so bad that you cannot see why a fucking pink bauble doesn’t look good next to a red and green one? Or that the tree will look all crooked if you keep adding decorations only to one side? Or that you can’t put bigger baubles on the top of the tree because it’ll look weird? What’s the problem, John?” Gale urges him and John is trying to keep up a serious facade, he really is, but the sheer exhaustion and desperation on his Buck’s face make him crack and he starts laughing.

“You did it on purpose?!” Gale almost shouts, and he looks like he’s this close to chucking the bauble at John’s head so he raises his hands in surrender. “I wasn’t at first, I swear: my parents always left me total freedom in decorating the tree because I was the only one who actually cared about it so I never thought too much about what looked good next to what. Maybe my mum moved things around a bit after I was done, now that I think about it, but I always figured it was because she liked certain ornaments less than others and wanted to hide them. But you were being so nice, clearly wishing you could strangle me with the tinsels and still letting me put everything where I wanted… I’m sorry I’ve been messing with you, but I couldn’t help it,” he says, a bit sheepish.

Gale sighs, massaging his temples. “I was going to rearrange everything when you were sleeping,” he admits. “Because you looked so happy decorating with me, I couldn’t find it in myself to tell you how bad you are at it.”

“Am I that bad?” John teases.

“Don’t make me say things we’re both gonna regret,” Gale answers, serious but with a glint in his eyes. “How about we cooperate from now on? We decide together where to put everything, so there’ll be colors as well as harmony on our tree?”

John nods, pulling Gale closer for a kiss. “Sounds like a good compromise, Major. So, where can we put that one?” He asks, pointing to the bauble still in Buck’s hands.

“This one’s gonna mysteriously break and disappear, and it will not be missed. I have limits, John!”

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Omg Tony would totally go to lengths to show off his marriage! In conversations with other, he'd say "my wife/spouse" or "my marriage" "my wedding" SO SO MANG TIMES. At a certain point, Rhodes would start COUTING "your score today was 17. You said "my wife" 17 times today, man... I'm texting Y/N your score"

Married

Pairing: Tony Stark x Wife! Reader

Warning: 18+ smut mentions, fluff!

.

The glittery rock that sat on your finger shone bright and proud under the morning sun as your turned in your sleep, your left hand resting pretty against the recently vacated spot on your shared bed.

While your chest gentle rose up and down as you slept, the shower turned off and out walked your new husband dripping wet with a towel wrapped around his waist. A soft sigh left your lips as you stirred a little, almost as if you were aware of his presence.

Tony Stark’s heart warmed at the sight of you. A part of him was still in disbelief that he had actually married you and now you officially were his wife. He chuckled at the word as his mind played scenes from the weekend that was by far the best couple of days of his life.

“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may finally kiss your bride.”

As Rhodey finished, Tony had wasted no time in pulling you in his arms and sealing your marriage in a kiss that you wouldn’t forget in a million years. You had married the love of your life and everybody close to you and Tony were witness to this joyous day.

Half of your reception went in stopping Tony from exaggerating how incredible you were, and giggling every time he introduced you to everyone as his wife, it would take some time getting used to however, you couldn’t be happier being Mrs. Stark.

As Tony admired your beauty, a few stray drops of water fell on your bare back from his hair; he watched the droplets make their way down the dip of your spine, tickling your skin as you stirred some more but refused to wake up.

He traced the marks he’d left last night over your body, claiming you as his, his cock twitching at the memory of your sinful moans.

He bent down to press a soft kiss between your shoulder blades, trailing his lips upwards to your neck and ear where he gently sucked on your earlobe to rouse you from your slumber.

“Good morning wifey.”

Tony had no problem admitting he was obsessed with calling you his wife or Mrs. Stark at any given chance, it was as if his heart pumped an extra amount of love every time he called you that.

He watched your eyelids flutter before opening slightly, smiling when you felt his lips caress your face and saw his fingers play with your own, toying with the wedding bands that you had exchanged less than forty eight hours ago.

“Morning husband. I thought you weren’t going to wake me up…” you murmured with a smile, voice still ladden with sleep.

“I wasn’t, but you looked so stunning, I couldn’t help myself. Plus it is what married people do.” Tony stated matter-of-factly, coaxing you to turn around and face him.

“Is that right?”

“Mmhmm.” He murmured, continuing to kiss the side of your neck, abandoning the towel and sliding inside the sheets with you, in turn waking you up fully now that his colder, wet body made contact with your warmer one.

“Then I guess you will have to sleep on the couch tonight, husband mine.”

Tony’s eyebrows shot up in surprise as he resurfaced to look at you, brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face with a love-sick expression on his handsome face.

“Why?”

“Well to begin with, you promised me breakfast in bed last night which I don’t see, and you’ve ruined these sheets too.”

“That’s not fair!”

“I’m sorry but it is what married people do.” You smirked before shimmying away from Tony’s arms, giggling as he chased after you.

[trohpi]

@regulily-microfic • july 7: stay • 860 words

cross-posted on ao3

Lily is exhausted. Honestly, she’s been exhausted since the seminar she attended a few hours ago. The only thing that’s kept her going is Regulus’ texts, and right now all she wants is to collapse into bed with him and take a long, long nap.

Unfortunately, naps are rather hard to come by when you have a four year old at home.

The door shuts behind her with a quiet snick, and she immediately has to sidestep a toy. The living room is empty save for the mess on the floor. Lily doesn’t bother attempting to clean it, knowing the clutter would be back within the hour.

There’s the sound of laughter echoing from down the hall, followed closely by a little voice giggling, “Stop it, daddy! Stay!”

There’s an answering chuckle, deep and clear, and Lily feels her heart flutter. She toes off her shoes and abandons them in the entryway, knowing her husband will huff about Lily’s neglect of the shoe rack but finding herself uncaring. No, right now, the only thing she wants is to be with her family.

Lily slips down the hall and discreetly pokes her head in their daughter’s room. Her presence goes unnoticed by the other two occupants, who are seemingly rather wrapped up in something.

Regulus sits cross-legged on the plush pink rug, an obscene amount of Lily’s makeup and nail polish strewn by his feet. His face is absolutely covered in glitter, cheeks blush pink and eyelids bright blue. There’s mascara smeared around his eyes and cheeks, some even on his forehead. He’s wearing nail polish as well, though almost none of it is on his actual nails.

Regulus looks insane. Lily has never loved him more.

A shock of strawberry blonde pops up from the makeup pile, a tube of lipstick in her hand. She giggles again as she fumbles with little fingers to twist it open, a bright purple tube that Lily doesn’t even remember buying.

“Now do this, daddy,” Celandine says, puckering her lips. Regulus follows her example and she smiles with satisfaction, gappy teeth on display. She furrows her brow into a faux-stern look, one she got from her father, and says, “Now stay.”

“Yes, Madam,” Regulus says teasingly.

Lily watches as her daughter messily smears lipstick on her husband’s lips, biting her own to stifle a chuckle. The sight is amusing as much as it is endearing. Regulus gets a glint in his eyes before he jumps forward, miming biting the lipstick. Celandine shrieks with laughter as she stumbles back.

“No, daddy! I said stay,” she cackles.

“She’s right,” Lily pipes up from the doorway, watching as two heads whip up, wide-eyed. There’s only a second before Celandine is leaping at her.

“Mama!” she shouts in delight, clinging to her legs. “You’re home!”

“I am, mo stór,” she says, scooping Celandine up with a small grunt before she settles her on her hip.

“I was making daddy pretty,” she states matter-of-factly, her little lisp making Lily’s heart ache. “Do you like it?”

Lily turns her gaze on Regulus, who is looking at her as if she caught him committing a crime. She slowly, deliberately lets her gaze track up and down his body before making eye contact with him. “Oh, I love it. Very pretty.”

Regulus goes pink in the face while Celandine cheers in delight, already squirming out of her hold once more.

“I knew you would!” She grabs Regulus by the cheeks, studying her work with a gravely serious expression. “Daddy said he would look silly, but I told him he was stupid.”

“Language!” Lily scolds while Regulus cracks a grin.

“You did, didn’t you, Dina?”

“Uh-huh. And you said I shouldn’t call people that, but I said you call Uncle Siri stupid all the time, and you said that doesn’t count because Uncle Siri is stupid—”

Lily huffs out a laugh. “Oh, honestly, Regulus.”

“Are you going to tell me I’m wrong? Just last week he— oh, ow darling, be careful—” Regulus winces when Celandine pokes him in the eye with a fingerful of glittery eyeshadow, clearly unsatisfied with the amount of sparkle.

“Don’t be a baby, daddy,” Celandine replies easily and Lily huffs in amusement.

“That’s enough out of you, little miss.” Lily scoops Celandine up, ignoring her squirms. Raising an eyebrow at her husband, she says, “She gets that attitude from you, you know that, right?”

Regulus rubs at his irritated eye, smearing glitter and blue eyeshadow messily. “I will not accept lies and slander.”

“Is it lies and slander if it’s true, love?”

Regulus grins at her. “Absolutely. Now, go clean the glitter off that heathen. I’m in desperate need of a shower.”

“I’m not a heathen,” Celandine declares, still protesting the arm around her waist.

“That’s what a heathen would say.”

Celandine gasps in indignation. Twisting in her grip, she turns to look at Lily imploringly, offence written clear in her little grey eyes. “Mama, tell him I’m not a heathen.”

Lily stifles a grin, shaking her head solemnly at her daughter. “I’m afraid that’d be called lying.”

Celandine’s jaw drops on a cry of “Mama!” and Lily cackles.

[rowretro]

𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

WARNINGS: Drugs, Gambling, Illegal racing (a bit of a shitty chapter, do tell me what needs improving)

✧CHAPTER 1✧

Underground gamblers, laundromat owners, unfortunate girls, Bodyshop workers all were flooding the Rave. Y/n was simply smoking her weed in the back, downing large gulps of straight vodka, as she vibe with her dancing friends. It was all going pretty smoothly, when suddenly he walked in.

The boy from school, the new one. His name as pretty as his face. Nishimura Riki. He had got back from one of his illegal racing matches, winning as always. Their eyes met, purple lights flashing, speakers booming, Music blasting, but it all paused for a moment. Of all places he'd never expect the perfume girl to be at an illegal rave.

Leaving the wild party, y/n sat there in the moonlight, a joint in one hand, lollipop in her mouth. "So this is why you always come to school drenched in perfume?" Riki suddenly said as y/n frowned, turning to him. She was unsure as to why he was talking to her, but also she loved it. "Hmm yeah..." the girl trailed off, as Riki stared at the sky. "The sky looks so pretty... so glittery you know? that big circle diamond has all the spotlight tho-" the girl blurted, pointing at the moon.

"The moon?... yeah, so pretty, did you know the moon ha-" before he could go on with his moon fact, the girl placed her joint between his lips. "I'm too high to learn about space pretty boy-" she slurred, a little drunk, her tired eyes, meeting his slightly shocked ones. "Why are you talking to me anyway? we barely know each other new boy-" the girl added as Riki smirked.

Why was he there? simply because his friend Heeseung had a baby sister that needed to be dragged out of a rave. That baby sister was of course y/n. It's quite a shame she didn't actually recognise him, but also quite flattered by the way she had stars in her eyes, when she studied his face. Riki tilted his head, as he studied her features. Was she the most attractive girl? Not exactly but she was definitely pretty.

Her eyes may be slightly uneven, but it wasn't visible, both so pretty in their own ways, her nose, was one many people would want, though she hated it. her cute lips, so perfect and pretty, she had one hell of a jawline, it in fact looked like his. Glitter painting her eyelids, cheeks, some on her forehead, her long falsies looking oh so natural on her eyelids, her lipstick slightly fading.

Y/n took a long deep puff of her roll up, sucking on her lollipop shortly after. "You want me to drop you off?" Riki asked as the girl frowned "You a serial killer stranger?" y/n slurred as the male blinked "No- just offering you a ride..." Riki said as the girl took one last puff of her joint, slightly burning her lips as she did so. "What's the worst that can happen... ok-" She mumbled, as she stumbled up, Riki offered his hand as the girl smacked it away.

She silently followed him to his car. "You a racer or something?" y/n asked as she got into the car, obviously noticing that it was in fact a modelled car especially for racing, not failing to notice the designs painted on "Yeah, One of the bet ones in fact." the male added as he started driving her home. "I heard you used to race too hmm?" Riki asked as y/n nervously hugged her self, her nails scratching at her arm "Yeah used to... Now I prefer to just work at the Bodyshop" y/n simply answered. Riki glanced at her, noticing how uncomfortable she seemed, immediately changing the subject.

"Kay Cherry joints girl- you have arrived at your destination" Riki smiled as y/n frowned at the strange nickname, she mumbled a thanks, leaving him a cherry lollipop before leaving the car. She was immediately met with her brother, mad and worried, he dragged her in quickly, letting her rest in his room. "Lee y/n are you crazy?! dad's here today if he saw you you'd be dead you know?!!!" the male nagged, whisper yelling at her as she just whined. "You're lucky our neighbour's my best friend, had he not dragged you out any sooner, dad would have hacked off your legs!" Heeseung added.

Her goddamn neighbour?! the Nishimura Riki?!!! too bad she's way too high to process this heavy flow of information she is recieving...

✧𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓✧

[andromedism]

June 2017

“What’re you doing, bro?” 

“I’m twirling!” Charlie yells over the booming bass, a blur of rainbow beads rattling around his neck. They shimmer in the strobe lights, casting specks of refracting light across his army jacket and his upturned face. 

The dance floor parts slightly, a red sea of narrow-faced gays scowling at him as he overtakes their space with his revolution. It’s making Mac dizzy, but he needs to stay sharp. 

“He’s twirling!” Dee confirms. She’s swaying at Mac’s side, a large rainbow flag tied around her neck. One of her gaudy fake lashes is sticking to her eyelid. 

They’re both tipsier than Mac; the stale beer tolerance they’ve built up at Paddy’s is an unworthy match for the dangerously fruity drinks The Rainbow hands out like candy during Pride. Mac’s a pro by now and can knock back watermelon daiquiris with the best of them, but tonight isn’t the night for dicking around. 

He grips Charlie’s shoulder, stopping him. “Take it easy. You don’t wanna pull trig on the dance floor, dude. People’ll get pissed.” 

It’s not that this dance floor hasn’t seen its fair share of vomit—it has. Much of it, Mac’s. It’s just that the hundreds of glittery bodies swaying to the house music are giving him vertigo, and he didn’t really want to come, and Charlie and Dee cannot be left alone together without committing at least one felony. If one of them angers the wrong gay, he’ll have to bust out his jiu-jitsu training, and this isn’t the venue for that. 

Someone needs to reign them in, be the straight man in the gay bar, and it has to be him—there’s no one else, anymore. 

“You’re being such a buzz kill, man! This is your night!” Charlie cries, nodding his head to the beat of the music. He hasn’t stopped moving since Elton John’s tenor broke through the speaker on the first parade float earlier that afternoon. Mac’s always loved how Charlie absorbs the musicality in everything; tapping his feet to the rhythm of the leaky tap in the bar or pulling a piano riff from thin air after sniffing paint. It’s second nature for him. And then there’s Dee.

“Yeah! This is your night!” she parrots. She takes a swig from the penis-shaped cup she’s spilled the contents of on everyone in her orbit since they arrived. Mac has no idea where she got it from. The Rainbow doesn’t supply these. “Hey, this is blue flavored. What fruit is blue? Mac, d’you know?”

Charlie whirls on her, tipping back onto his heels as his legs catch up with his upper body. “Now hold on a minute, Dee. Why are you asking him, huh? Feels homophobic for you to assume he’s the fruit expert, here.”

“I’m not—” she huffs loudly and rolls her eyes in that eerie way that reminds Mac she’s someone’s twin, “—I’m not saying he’s the fruit expert ‘cause he’s gay, dipshit! I just—he’s been working out a lot and eating boring health food. Thought he’d know his fruits.” 

Charlie turns to look at Mac, eyes skidding over his biceps. He doesn’t pay attention to things like this. If Mac showed up at the bar tomorrow with D-cups and ass implants, he wouldn’t bat an eye and doesn’t now. “He hasn’t been working out.” 

“Yeah, he has! My god, do you pay attention to anything?” 

They’ve been doing this a lot: talking about Mac like he isn’t standing right in front of them. His own friends treat him like a dog, hinting they’ll take him for a walk without saying it because they think if he hears the word, he’ll scamper around excitedly until they leash him. Or put him down.

Charlie plants his hands on his hips. “Well who’s to say between the two of us, I’m not the one with the fruit expertise?” 

“Oh, what do you know about fruits, Charlie?” Dee challenges, walking up on him. 

Charlie bounces on his toes as he shouts in Dee’s face. “I know a lot about fruits! I know a lot about fruits! My areas of expertise are bird law, woodworking, and then fruit—”

“Woodworking, what the hell are you talking about!?” Dee shouts back. She’s gesturing so violently that blue liquid is flying everywhere. Mac is strategically dodging drops of it as he steps forward to break them up. 

It’s just then that the song changes and Charlie shoves his hand over Dee’s mouth to silence her. “Shut up! Shut up! Dee, shut up.” 

She pushes him away, spitting wildly. “What the hell is on your hands!? Glue!?”

“I said shut up!” Charlie shrieks. He takes a deep breath and extends his arms, palms outstretched like a prophet. “I have to twirl about this.” Before Madonna can get a word of Express Yourself in edge-wise, he’s spinning again, off into the crowd.

Mac steps forward to follow him, but a sharp, quippy ‘Hey, boner!’ stops him in his tracks. When he turns to look at Dee, she’s staring at him. It’s so unnatural that he can only blink back at her. These past few years, they haven’t paid much attention to each other—only to fight like cats; their dynamic always defined by their gravitational proximity to another man. 

“Are you—are you talking to me?”

“Yeah, duh. What’s up your ass?” She accents her question with a long swig from her dick cup. There’s a familial likeness there that keeps Mac from ever looking her directly in the eye. 

Mac crosses his arms, standing a little straighter. “Nothing. Just trying to keep you two safe.”

She arches an eyebrow at him, dumbfounded. “From who?” 

And yeah, that’s a good question. The threat level in the room is pretty low. Mac knows because he assessed it when they first walked in. 

He shrugs. “I dunno. Anyone could be lurking here. Spies, henchman, a ninja maybe—”

“A ninja?” she interrupts, and there’s skepticism in her tone that makes him nervous. Why can’t she mind her own business? 

“They could be anywhere, Dee. You don’t understand because you’re thinking like a civilian.” He taps his forehead for good measure. 

“You’re a civilian, jerk ass.” She pulls the little umbrella out of her cup and twirls it in between her fingers. “You’re thinkin’ ‘bout your buddy, huh? Yikes!” 

He’s been trying really hard not to think about anything at all; the door in his apartment that’s always closed; the room behind it that’s always empty; the one-way ticket to North Dakota that made it all so.

“No, I’m not.”

“Yeah y’are.” She shoves the dick cup in his face until he takes a swig. It feels like water going up his nose. 

“Holy shit. What is this, Windex?” He eyes the sloshing blue substance, suspiciously. Maybe it will poison her and she’ll stop asking him so many pointed questions. 

“No, it’s a blue lagoon. I got it from Estevan.” Dee flicks her hand behind her lazily, and Mac follows the direction of her flippant gesture into a crowd of strangers. 

“Who’s Estevan?”

“He’s over th—” She turns to point at an empty space on the far wall. “Oh. I could’ve sworn he was…” She cocks her head back at Mac. “Hey, what d’you think was in those edibles?”

Mac swallows dryly. “I don’t think those were edibles, Dee.” 

There was something kind of wonky about the little pink gummies Frank dropped into each of their palms, hours earlier. ‘You kids stay woke and don’t mix these with poppers or you’ll end up ass up in an airfield,’ he’d said before descending the stairs to a sketchy basement bar with Artemis. He hadn’t meant it in the liberal sense. There’s nothing woke about Frank. If Mac had a dime for every homophobic thing the guy said today, he’d be able to buy everyone in the bar a round. What’s the word for that? Reparations, maybe? 

He looks to his side to ask the person who’s always standing there, the person who always knows the answer. There’s no one.

Dee pokes Mac in the pec with the toothpick end of the umbrella. “Look, I don’t care if you go home and sob into his pillow every night—“

“Estevan’s? I still don’t know who that is.”

Dee furrows her brow. “Est—what? No! Not Estevan’s! You know who! And you can mope about him all you want on your own time! But tonight’s supposed to be fun and you’re shitting on everything!” 

“I am not shitting on everything!” Mac shoots back. He holds up the dick cup, pointedly. “You’re the one collecting souvenirs like a tourist! You should really give that kid her flag back!”

“Finders keepers!” Dee clutches at the ends of the flag and wraps them around her body, possessively, cocooning herself like a big ugly moth. 

“You didn’t find it! You stole it!” She’d ripped it out of a college girl’s hands in line outside and told her to suck a fat chode before parading past the bouncer. If Mac’s retained anything from the Star Wars prequels he’s been marathoning in his now-infinite free time, it’s that not all heroes wear capes, and not all people who wear capes are heroes.

“Oh don’t make this about me!” Dee snaps. “We’re doin’ your thing tonight and you’re not even enjoying it, like an ungrateful asshole!” She gestures broadly to the dance floor, the ends of her pride cape flaring out around her in a blur of color. “Look around you! Everyone’s having a great time but you! If I were you, I’d be dancing my ass off! Not thinkin’ ‘bout my loser roommate.” 

Mac clenches his fists. “He’s not a loser, Dee! He’s a dad!” 

“What’s the difference!?” she yells, stomping her feet like a toddler. 

There’s a huge difference, obviously–and she’s too drunk and dumb to see it. Dads can’t be losers. Take Mac’s for example. He’s a total badass. What, with all of his tattoos, and his secrets, and his criminal record? Bad. Ass. 

Mac shoves the dick cup back into her hands. “Can we stop? Can we stop!? This is stupid! You’re drunk, we’re all high, Frank totally poisoned us which is probably a hate crime, at least in my case! This night has been shitty and I wanna go home! I’d rather be finishing Revenge of the Sith right now and that’s saying a lot. I’m gonna go find Charlie.”

“Whatever! Go do that! But remember, the night wasn’t shitty until you started shitting on it!” As Dee flings her hand out, liquid sloshes from the dick cup and hits Mac’s chest in a cold splatter. 

“Hey!” he cries, grasping at the wet fabric of his tank top. “Oh god damnit, Dee!”

She cups a hand over her mouth. “Oh, I fucked it.”

“Yeah, you fucked it! Get me something to clean this up! Shit!” 

“Fine!” She starts to tromp off, but then stops. Turning on her heels, she walks up into Mac’s space and jabs a sharp finger into his chest. “Stop. Shitting.” 

They scoff at each other before she’s off again, stomping into the crowd. Mac flexes his fingers, fighting off the urge to trip her as her pride cape blurs with the other rainbow apparel. It’s just him, now. Him and a hundred other gay people. That thought alone is enough to unnerve him from his sticky spot on the floor. 

Mac drifts aimlessly through the flock of sweaty bodies, eyes fixed on the blue stain blooming over his heart. Something’s kicking in: the edible, or Dee’s molotov cocktail, or the big horrible feeling he has in crowded rooms now that there’s no one to turn to and say ‘ It’s crowded in here, huh? ’.

The DJ has switched things up, opting for a slow song. People are pairing up to dance a boozy waltz. Bodies slotting together, hands grasping for broad shoulders, and Mac, all alone, covered in glitter and suspiciously blue liquor. 

A couple in matching leathers bumps into him in the scramble, muttering apologies. A server lifts a tray of tequila shots high above their heads as she skirts past him. She’s wearing a tee shirt that says 'Love who you love' in big bold lettering. How? That’s all he’s been asking himself his entire life. How do you love someone the way they need it? How do you cope when they leave? How do you come out without immediately locking yourself in a brand-new box? 

There’s a lull in the crowd finally, a clearing in the musky haze, where he can take a long deep breath. He blots at the stain with clammy fingers to no avail, barely noticing the hands ducking into his line of sight to press a napkin to his shirt. 

“She’s so fucking annoying.” 

Everyone sounds a little like this these days, so he doesn’t react anymore. In coffee shops, and grocery stores, and clubs like this one, Mac hears the familiar pert inflection that used to fill the space between him and the other end of the couch. And every time he turns to look, the face isn’t right. 

“So annoying,” Mac agrees. “You know her?” 

“You might say I know her better than anyone,” the stranger says with a theatrical inflection. He was always so dramatic. 

Mac is still staring at the long, slim fingers fussing with the stain, the manicured nails grazing his bare chest as they hold fast to the fabric, lighting his skin up with goosebumps. He shifts on his feet. “Wow, you that close with her? Dee Reynolds? Bro, that’s—”

“Look at me, asshole.” 

He won’t. 

Because this is the same nightmare he’s been having for months. And it ends badly. It always has. It will never be different. 

“Mac,” the stranger says, softly, in that tone he used to take in their kitchen at midnight, when they���d have tea together after a long day at the bar, when they’d share stories they’ve heard each other tell a million times like secrets. “Look at me.”

To Mac’s great pleasure and horror, he is just as easy to look at as he was the last time they saw each other. The vivid club lighting is cutting through the moving shadows, catching the arc of his cheek, the soft curl of his hair, his prim mouth set in an intent line. 

As dancers and servers pass them by like ships in the night, Mac can feel it: the gossamer thin thread keeping him tethered to reality snapping as those slim hands drop the napkin and press hot to his neck, pulling him forward.

“What are you—” Mac starts, but it’s no use, because Dennis Reynolds, South Philadelphia’s most infamous ghost, is kissing him soft and open-mouthed in the middle of a gay bar. 

And everything is blue like the sky on an autumn day when they were children, and Charlie would push him on the rusty swing set in the park. That fluttering deep in his stomach, as he’d dropped back down to earth, returning to him now like an old friend. Returning to him now, like Dennis. 

And there’s something unnervingly gentle about the pale hand, reaching up to brush a stray hair off Mac’s forehead as they press closer to each other.

And Mac is gripping at the collar of a familiar button-up for dear life, wanting to anchor them both in this moment so that he won’t wake up in a cold sweat, any minute now, legs sticking to his sheets. 

And the planets are all marbles, rolling out of orbit into the black universe, where everything tastes like the lip gloss Dennis left on the counter when he walked out of Mac’s life.

You never text me back, he wants to say. You never call. But he can’t speak, he can only sigh into the mouth of this beautiful, horrible stranger, who is kissing him like it’s the last time they’ll ever see each other. Maybe it is. Fear bubbles up in Mac’s throat at the idea that this is the closest he’ll ever be to Dennis again: hallucinating his likeness in crowded rooms he’ll never be in for all of eternity. 

But when the stranger breaks the kiss, it’s still Dennis; still sharp lines and a rigid brow, pursed lips, and something rare and open in those wide, blue eyes flickering out as the mask is tied back on. 

In all of Mac’s dreams, they don’t get this far. They don’t kiss. He always wakes up before they do it. Which only means one thing:

“This is a nightmare,” Mac whispers. It’s all he can think to say. It’s the only explanation. 

“Yours or mine, buddy?” Dennis says softly. It’s quiet enough that Mac shouldn’t be able to hear it, but he does because he’s watching Dennis’ mouth so intently he could probably draw it later, from memory. His eyes linger there as Dennis turns in the other direction, walking away before Mac can take a breath. 

“Wait!” Mac calls after him, trying to catch up, weaving through the crowd. It’s so like Dennis to power walk out of any compromising situation. Mac should know - he’s seen him do it a million times and not once has he been able to keep up. The guy’s got the stamina of a show pony. The last time he did it, he didn’t come back, and Mac’s reliving it again, for the hundredth night in a row. Remembering everything he didn’t say, or tried to say but it came out wrong. 

“Dennis, wait!” Mac calls again, shoving the server from earlier aside as she walks between them. “Move, bitch!” 

One moment he sees Dennis’ silhouette in the crowd, curls haloed by the overhead lighting, fingers digging into his palms in that way he does when he’s nervous, the arc of his tensed shoulders, shifting through the masses. The next, he’s gone. 

“There you are!” Dee’s hand is on Mac’s shoulder, spinning him around. She and Charlie are staring at him with twin looks of concern. “Where the hell have you been!? We’ve been looking everywhere for you!” 

Everything is ten times louder all of a sudden like someone ripped his headphones out of his ears at the gym.

“I was…” Mac presses his hand to his mouth. His fingers are trembling. “Did you two see him?”

“Who, Estevan?” Dee asks, head cocked inquisitively—yes, like a bird. 

“Estev—no. No.” Mac lifts his hand from his mouth to his forehead, massaging the skin there. It takes everything to move, suddenly. He feels like a bug, suspended in amber. “Guys, I think those edibles were laced with something.”

“I think you’re right, man.” Charlie says, “I just spun so much I wore a hole in the dance floor” 

“It’s true,” Dee says, “I tripped over it and got blue everywhere.” 

“Yeah, it’s everywhere. There’s blue everywhere,” Charlie adds.

Mac’s heart is beating so fast he can feel it in his ears, over the beat of the poppy synth music. Reality has rushed back in, the bar buzzing with energy once again. Maybe it always was. 

“I—I think we should call it a night, guys. I need to get some air. I’m seeing things.”

Dee and Charlie exchange a look. Maybe they’ll take him for a walk after all. “Yeah,” Charlie says, “I think that’s the right move. Not that this hasn’t been so fun!”

“Oh! So fun!” Dee parrots, unconvincingly. 

“But yeah, let’s go.” As Charlie motions toward the door, Dee flashes a bundle of paper towels.

“Oh, I almost forgot, I brought you this for the—” she stops, staring at Mac’s chest. “What the hell? Did you change your shirt?”

“No, why would I…”

He looks down, padding at the spot where there was once a blue stain. Now, nothing. 

They all look at each other, letting the beat of confusion hang between them before deciding at once: “The edibles.” 

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Dee says. She flares out her cape dramatically and leads them through the crowd. 

Mac trails behind her, eyes unfocused, the desire to be curled up on the couch watching Anakin burn to death in the lava river greater than he could have ever imagined. ‘I hate you,’ he’d said. ‘I loved you.’ Obi-Wan had replied. It’s where Mac had left off.

A wet napkin gets stuck to the sole of Charlie’s sneaker. He kicks it off and stumbles after them. “So wait, who’s Estevan?”

read more here <3

[acescorazon]

I have a fic idea for you cause i suck at writing, i don't know if its been done before but-- 👉👈 buggyxmihawk where mihawk is tired of watching buggy doing his eyeliner wrong so he offers to do it for him instead djdjskjd but once he is done he realize he now wants to ruin buggys make up completely uhum if you know what i mean 😏🤭 you can crocodile if you want idk he may have been watching the whole thing DO AS YOU PLEASE

YOUR WISH IS MY COMMAND, COLO. Also, a loooooooooooooong time ago you said that i could make this into a yuri and i did. So this is my one (1) yuri fic of the year. Enjoy

(P.S. i think i lost the plot)

Title: All Dolled Up

Pairing: Fem!Bughawk

Rating: E

Word Count: 6523

Warnings: PWP, Fingering, Strap-ons, face sitting, very minor overstimulation, dirty talk (I guess don't ask me.)

Excerpt:

Buggy glances up just in time to see Mihawk walk through their bedroom door. “As always, you look stunning, my love…” Mihawk murmurs as she makes her way towards her with a hungry look in her eyes, “But…” But, what? Buggy thinks. “When are you going to be done?” Mihawk asks before quickly adding, “I’ve been dying to get a taste of you all night.” she complains, and her voice sounds tight, perhaps even a little desperate as the words leave her mouth. She drops down to her knees all of a sudden and stares up at Buggy with big, pleading eyes, and the act makes Buggy’s face burn slightly. “That’s what you always say…” Buggy whispers as she quickly adverts her gaze and then chuckles nervously, “You always need to taste me…” “Can you blame me?” Mihawk asks as she stares up at Buggy. She rests her chin on one of Buggy’s thick thighs, then sighs, “You can keep doing your makeup, I just need a taste of you. Please, just a little lick.” 

Buggy adores putting on makeup and sliding into something cute before taking some pictures of herself. It’s kind of like a hobby for her, something akin to painting but on her skin, and she finds the whole process from looking for inspiration to applying products to her face to be so fun and relaxing. Hell, even taking off her makeup and then getting ready for bed is something that she also finds peace in, but we can discuss her skincare routine some other time. 

If Buggy’s not doing her own makeup, though, then she’s most likely watching other people do theirs or scrolling through social media, looking for more inspiration. Speaking of which, the other day, she was scrolling through social media when she noticed a cute look that she has just been dying to try which happens to be a glittery red smokey eye with bright red lipstick. The moment she saw the look, she knew that she had to copy it. It’s a little average, sure, and Buggy usually likes to do something more creative and eccentric, but the idea is cute. Plus, she feels like doing something quick and easy tonight, instead of spending hours perfecting one look.   

Buggy feels so pretty as she sits in front of her vanity wearing a red skin-tight cutout dress that clings to her curves and shows off just a hint of her side and cleavage. She already has her hair done up in two long, cute blue pigtails that hang loosely at her shoulders, and now all she has to do is finish her makeup and take pictures.

After Buggy dabs some glitter on top of her eyelids, she picks up her eyeliner with a small sigh. Buggy has gained a lot of experience with makeup over the years, but one thing she’s never been good at is applying eyeliner. Her hands are always too shaky, and sometimes she draws it on unevenly or pokes herself in the eye and, ugh, it’s just the worst. Her girlfriend, on the other hand, is so good at doing eyeliner, but then again, she’s good at everything. 

Speaking of her girlfriend, Buggy glances up just in time to see Mihawk walk through their bedroom door. “As always, you look stunning, my love…” Mihawk murmurs as she makes her way towards her with a hungry look in her eyes, “But…” But, what? Buggy thinks. 

“When are you going to be done?” Mihawk asks before quickly adding, “I’ve been dying to get a taste of you all night.” she complains, and her voice sounds tight, perhaps even a little desperate as the words leave her mouth. She drops down to her knees all of a sudden and stares up at Buggy with big, pleading eyes, and the act makes Buggy’s face burn slightly.

“That’s what you always say…” Buggy whispers as she quickly adverts her gaze and then chuckles nervously, “You always need to taste me…”

 

“Can you blame me?” Mihawk asks as she stares up at Buggy. She rests her chin on one of Buggy’s thick thighs, then sighs, “You can keep doing your makeup, I just need a taste of you. Please, just a little lick.”

 

Mihawk’s words send a shiver down Buggy’s spine, and she forces back a small groan. Why is she like this? She wonders, but she would be a liar if she said she didn’t love how desperate Mihawk acts whenever she finds herself in the mood to eat Buggy out, which is often by the way. Anyways, how can Buggy possibly continue to do her makeup with Mihawk’s head between her thighs?

Buggy caresses Mihawk’s head lovingly, “Just…Just give me a few more minutes, okay?” She stammers quietly, though the idea of Mihawk eating her out until she’s a shaking mess is already at the back of her mind. Mihawk groans softly, “Fine, just please… I really need you.” She tells her, and the combination of Mihawk’s blunt words and her burning stare make Buggy squirm in her seat. She can feel a dull ache growing between her legs, but she tries to ignore it for the time being and get back to doing her makeup. Buggy just needs a few more minutes, and then Mihawk can do whatever she wants with her. 

Buggy leans forward and continues what she was previously doing. She tries to apply eyeliner to her waterline, but now her hands are a little shakier than they should be, and she can’t seem to focus. Buggy can feel Mihawk watching her every little move as she remains on her knees, peering up at her with the same intense gaze as before, but she tries to ignore her. 

Buggy moves to finally apply her eyeliner, but freezes up at the last moment. "Um…" She mutters, trailing off before setting her eyeliner pencil back down onto the vanity. “ Do you have to watch me? It makes me feel nervous.”

Mihawk sighs softly but looks away from Buggy. She keeps her head in her lap, though, running a soft hand up and down Buggy’s calf as she waits for Buggy to finally give her what she so desperately needs.

Buggy feels slightly better now that Mihawk’s not watching her so intensely, so she leans forward again and attempts to apply eyeliner to her waterline, but her hands are still so shaky and she more or less ends up poking herself in the eye even though she tries hard not to. “Shit.” She mutters under her breath as her eyes begin to water slightly. 

“My love,” Mihawk groans quietly when she notices Buggy’s struggle, "Do you need help with your eyeliner?" Pft… Yes… No… Maybe. 

Buggy tries to play it cool and like she didn’t just stab herself in the eye. “No, no, I’m fine,” She mutters, but when she glances down and sees how impatient and needy Mihawk looks at this very moment, she grows flustered again. The ache between her legs grows as she recalls the fact that they were literally in this same situation during lunchtime when Mihawk insisted she’d been dying to taste her all afternoon before making quite the mess of Buggy on the living room couch of all places.

Well... Buggy thinks, as her face grows hotter, Things would go a lot faster if Mihawk helped me out a little… "I mean… if you want to help, I'm not going to stop you."  She says with a sheepish grin, "But…just know, I could totally do it myself, baby.”

"...Mhm." Mihawk hums softly before finally getting up and reaching for Buggy’s eyeliner. Despite seeming slightly impatient beforehand, Mihawk applies eyeliner to Buggy's waterline slowly and with ease and precision. Her hand is nowhere near as shaky as Buggy's would have been if she applied the eyeliner herself, and Buggy can’t help but admire that about Mihawk. Even when she’s clearly impatient,  she still takes the time to do things correctly the first time around. After Mihawk finishes, she admires her handiwork with a smile, “What do you think?” She asks as she gestures towards the vanity mirror with her head.

Buggy smiles as soon as she sees herself and then quickly thanks Mihawk for everything. She gets up and gives Mihawk a quick hug, or she tries to at least. “You’re the best,” She whispers softly as she tries to pull away from their embrace, only to have Mihawk wrap her arms tightly around her. 

Mihawk leans forward and presses a soft kiss into the crook of Buggy’s neck, “You look so pretty tonight,” She mutters into her skin, and Buggy’s smile grows. Well, if she thinks that Buggy looks pretty now, she should wait until she sees her with her mascara and eyelashes on! “Thank you, thank you,” She chuckles, “But I'm not even done with my makeup yet.” 

“Doesn’t matter. You always look gorgeous.”  Mihawk replies as she pulls her closer to her, “I really don’t think that I can wait any longer, though, my love.” She whispers quietly. Oh, she’s just being dramatic as always, what’s another ten minutes or so?

“I’m almost done, I promise.” Buggy assures Mihawk with another chuckle, yet she puts absolutely no effort into pushing an extremely needy Mihawk away from her.

Mihawk pulls back ever so slightly so she can look down at Buggy, and she actually gives her a small pout. Cute . Buggy finds her girlfriend so unbelievably cute, especially when she does things that she normally doesn’t do, like pout. “Buggy.” She calls out in a soft voice as she leans down slowly.

“Hm?” Buggy replies, pretending as if she doesn’t already know what Mihawk is about to say to her.

“Come on,” Mihawk pleads, “Please?”

Oh, how could Buggy ever say no to such a pretty face? She puts on a small show by sighing dramatically, “Fine, but If you mess up my makeup, I'm going to be pissed,” Buggy manages to complain just seconds before Mihawk presses their lips together for a hungry kiss. Part of her already knows that her poor makeup isn’t going to stand a chance against Mihawk now that she has her hands on her, but Buggy just can’t turn Mihawk away. Plus, it’ll give her something to complain about later, and she would never pass up the opportunity to complain about something.

Buggy can taste a hint of red wine on Mihawk’s lips as their kiss quickly grows in intensity, it’s a rather intoxicating taste that she’s grown accustomed to over the years. She sighs softly when Mihawk begins to caress her skin. Mihawk’s touch is so soft and teasing as she slides her hands up and down Buggy’s arms and her sides, and Buggy has to admit, she thought Mihawk would have her pinned down to their mattress by now, but she’s pleasantly surprised. 

Buggy matches Mihawk’s passion and then some. She eagerly grabs at every part of Mihawk that she can get her hands on as they kiss in an attempt to show Mihawk just how much she wants her back. Mihawk’s skin is a little icy, but so soft underneath Buggy’s fingertips, and Buggy loves the breathy little noises Mihawk makes every now and again and how she shudders underneath her touch. 

Mihawk breaks their kiss for a second, just long enough to whisper softly into Buggy’s ear: “Let me take care of you tonight,” She tells Buggy and before Buggy can even get a word in, she smashes their lips together again. Buggy knows exactly what that means and quite naturally wants to complain and say something like: ‘Hey, it’s not fair how you always take care of me and don’t let me return the favor,’ but her complaints dry up in her mouth when Mihawk slides a hand up her dress.

It’s just Mihawk, she touches her all the time, and yet Buggy’s face still grows hot and her heart begins to pound furiously the moment Mihawk starts rubbing her through her underwear. She tries to focus less on her own shyness and more on kissing Mihawk back, but Mihawk’s teasing touches become harder and harder to ignore.

“Hawkeye…” Buggy whimpers between kisses. 

“I got you,” Mihawk assures her before she pulls her panties to the side and begins to massage her clit in gentle circles. Buggy’s knees damn near buckle at that moment, and she only adds to her own embarrassment by whining noisily into their kiss. Another cocky laugh from Mihawk only makes the whole ordeal worse, yet it adds to Buggy’s arousal. Her legs grow shaky, and she finds herself involuntarily trying to rub herself against Mihawk’s two fingers, desperate to get just a little more pressure against her clit.

Every little touch feels embarrassingly good and part of Buggy is ashamed of all of the sounds she’s making as well as just how turned on she is right now, but another part of her feels too good to even care. She clings onto Mihawk tightly, feeling herself start to grow a little overwhelmed by Mihawk’s lips, tongue, and just her fingers in general, and that feeling only grows when Mihawk’s rubs her clit faster.

Mihawk slowly eases a finger into Buggy’s pussy and then a second one, causing Buggy to whimper in response. She breaks their kiss and releases a shaky exhale as she clings onto Mihawk, panting slightly. “You aren’t about to come already, are you?” Mihawk teases. Buggy opens her mouth to complain again, but she ends up squeaking instead when Mihawk presses a playful kiss against her ear. 

“Oh, be quiet…” Buggy’s says and her voice is shaky as she tries to get the order out, all because of the way Mihawk is slowly pumping her fingers in and out of her. 

"Oh, what was that?" Mihawk asks with a smirk before she leans forward to whisper another teasing comment into Buggy’s ear. “You make the cutest little sounds whenever I finger you, you know that, right, my love?”

“Shut up…” Buggy orders only to have Mihawk laugh in her face again before kissing her again. 

Buggy breaks their kiss again a moment later, desperately needing some air. Her thoughts are all hazy and clouded with lust, but she’s still caught by surprise when Mihawk pulls her fingers back, leaving Buggy feeling empty, before quickly bringing them up to her lips and sucking on them. The sight alone makes Buggy’s face feel like it’s on fire, but she damn near screams when Mihawk makes a show out of the whole ordeal by moaning as licks her fingers clean. “You’re so…” She trails off because she’s genuinely so caught off guard and doesn’t know what to say. Eventually she finds the right words her hazy brain is struggling to say, “Nasty.”

Mihawk seems to find her response funny, “I couldn’t help myself,” She chuckles, “You just taste so sweet.” 

“Whatever…” Buggy mutters under her breath, trying to hide her embarrassment as she looks up at her girlfriend. Her red dress clings tightly to her sweaty body, making her slightly uncomfortable, and she’s just about to take it off herself, but Mihawk beats her to the punch. Mihawk pulls away from Buggy, only for a split second, though, so she can yank her panties and dress off of her and then pull her towards the bed behind them. Buggy whines. It took her longer than expected to get in that damn dress, but Mihawk was able to take it off of her in a matter of seconds. It’s unfair.

Buggy crawls into bed and then lies back with a soft sigh. She spreads her legs slightly, inviting Mihawk to settle between them, and less than a moment later the two are tangled up in another tongue-filled kiss. Her hands are instantly all over Mihawk again, squeezing and caressing any part of her lover that she can reach. She pays specific attention to Mihawk’s toned abs as well as her firm ass, though.  

Buggy gives Mihawk’s ass a rough squeeze, which catches the other woman off guard and causes her to gasp into their kiss. Cutie pie. Buggy thinks as she giggles and begins to unbutton Mihawk's dress shirt. Once Buggy has it undone, she runs her hands over Mihawk's toned abs again and then up to her chest before giving her breasts a soft squeeze. They begrudgingly break apart for a split second again so Mihawk can get her shirt off, and during that time, Buggy gets the chance to admire her beautiful girlfriend's strong body a little before Mihawk's lips are all over hers again. 

Oh, how Buggy wishes Mihawk would let her admire her and spoil her the way she spoils Buggy. She wishes Mihawk would let her stare at her like a love sick fool and admire every little detail about her, she wishes she could shower her in compliments and words of affection, and more than anything she wish there were just one night where Buggy got the chance to make Mihawk feel like she was a priceless gem meant to be protected and admired and cherished at all cost. 

Buggy manages to get Mihawk's pants undone in between sloppy kisses and tries to slide her hand down the front of them, but Mihawk catches her wrist. She pulls away from her lips and presses a gentle kiss against the back of Buggy’s hand. "Don't worry about me, this is about you." 

Sigh. This really isn't fair, but Mihawk gives Buggy a gentle, reassuring smile before she leans down and begins to trail hot kisses down her neck and chest.

"Seriously, Mihawk…" Buggy mutters as Mihawk sits her up for a moment to undo her bra and toss it to the ground "I want to make you feel good too," she tells her, and Mihawk gives her another smile before pushing her back down to the mattress and continuing to cover her skin in soft kisses,

"You already are," Mihawk assures her as she peppers her chest in kisses, "I feel amazing right now." That's … That's not what Buggy meant at all and she knows that. 

Mihawk continues her journey down Buggy’s body, and Buggy is yet again surprised and sort of impressed by how patient Mihawk has been so far. She thought that Mihawk would have her face buried between her shaking thighs by now, but Buggy’s not about to say anything because she knows Mihawk will tease her mercilessly if she does.

One of Mihawk’s hands dances across Buggy’s flushed skin. Her touch is light, feathery. and fleeing, and occasionally she teases Buggy by allowing her hand to get just close enough to the spot that she needs her the most before pulling her touch away completely. Maybe this has less to do with patience and more to do with revenge. Maybe Mihawk is making Buggy suffer after Buggy made her wait for sex. Ugh, she hates her. 

(She loves her more than anything in this world)

Buggy shudders and arches her back slightly when Mihawk runs her tongue over one of her nipples. She bites her bottom lip, trying to ignore the arousal that’s dripping down her skin as Mihawk plays with her chest. She reaches up and idly plays with Mihawk’s hair, basking in the feeling of Mihawk’s warm mouth and playful tongue, as well as the soft touch of one of her hands against her chest. 

Buggy gasps softly a moment later when Mihawk sucks harshly on her nipple, and she arches her back slightly off the bed again before threading her fingers through Mihawk’s short raven hair, and pulling her close. 

Mihawk seems to find her reaction comical, of course she does, because she chuckles softly at Buggy’s reaction before showing her some mercy. She lifts her head up from her chest with a cheeky grin and gives Buggy another quick kiss. Mihawk continues her way down Buggy’s body after that, pressing open-mouthed kisses down her stomach before moving down to her thighs.

Despite Mihawk’s earlier impatience though, she continues to tease Buggy a little. She rakes her black, well-manicured fingernails across the inside of Buggy’s thighs, causing goosebumps to form on her skin before she presses kisses all over them. At this point, Buggy’s feeling that same sense of desperation that Mihawk must have felt earlier. She wants to grab her by the hair and just…

Ugh.

Buggy’s heart races the closer Mihawk gets to her pussy and she feels a mixture of impatience and excitement fill her at that moment. She chews on her bottom lip as she stares down at Mihawk with lust filled eyes, suddenly remembering that she still has a full face of makeup on and that she’s probably messing up her lipstick if she hasn’t already, but all well.

There’s a smile on Mihawk’s face as she settles in between Buggy’s legs, “You’re shaking already.” She teases in a husky voice, and Buggy can’t help but look away after that. “And I thought I was the eager one.”

“Do you ever stop talking…?” Buggy mutters, shuddering slightly when she feels Mihawk’s warm breath against her pussy. 

“Why should I?” Mihawk asks with a small chuckle, “How will you know how beautiful you are or how divine you taste, if I stay quiet?” Oh, there’s no way in hell Buggy wouldn’t know all those things, not with how vocal Mihawk suddenly turns when she’s about to give Buggy the sloppiest head ever.  “God,” Mihawk whispers breathlessly as she leans forward and presses a kiss against Buggy’s clit, making Buggy jump slightly, “Have I ever told you that you look just as good as you taste?” Oh, there she goes again saying all that embarrassing shit, and yet… It works like a charm on Buggy. 

“Stop teasing me,” Buggy complains, and her soft whine turns into a sharp gasp when Mihawk gives her pussy one long lick. Her embarrassment grows because of course Mihawk refuses to listen to her and continues to tease her ruthlessly. Mihawk groans loudly as soon as she gets a taste of Buggy and she looks up at Buggy with the same intense look in her eyes from earlier. “Just as sweet as ever.” She moans before she buries her face into Buggy’s cunt. 

Mihawk makes sure to maintain eye contact with Buggy as she laps at her clit and pussy hungrily, but occasionally her eyes will fall shut, and Buggy can see the pleasure written all over Mihawk’s face as well as the blush that faintly spreads across her cheeks. 

It’s so embarrassing being eaten out like this, with Mihawk being so loud and vocal about how much she loves Buggy’s taste and how she can’t get enough of her. Buggy repeatedly tries to get her to shut up, but any time she tries, Mihawk chuckles at her and only grows louder. Her praises just continue to come, making Buggy whine and want to hide but there’s nowhere to go. 

Buggy throws an arm over her face, and at this point, she can’t bear to look at Mihawk anymore. The way she gazes at her is embarrassing, yet gratifying. Mihawk makes her feel so beautiful and wanted, but it comes at the price of making her painfully flustered, especially at times like this when Buggy can hear and see how much Mihawk enjoys simply giving her pleasure. 

Buggy closes her eyes as her pleasure slowly starts to consume her. Her hands wind up in Mihawk’s hair again, and she moans loudly as she grinds her cunt against Mihawk’s face slowly, unable to keep her hips still for a moment longer. 

Mihawk reaches up and grabs one of Buggy’s hands, and Buggy eagerly squeezes her hand as pleasure washes through her entire body. Buggy can feel her orgasm building up, and knows that she won’t be able to last much longer, especially with the way that Mihawk is lapping her up. “God, right there,” She says breathlessly as she raises her hips up slightly to meet Mihawk’s mouth.

“Mm, there?” 

“There, right fucking there. Oh, god.” 

Buggy’s moans grow louder and breathier the closer she gets to her orgasm. She squeezes Mihawk’s hand tightly as her hips buck forward again. It’s all too much, but at the same time, she wants Mihawk to keep going, “Faster,” she whines as her pleasure starts to consume her.

Mihawk hums and moves her tongue faster, seemingly egged on by the need to see Buggy reach her orgasm. She continues to watch her intently every step of the way, never letting up for even a second. 

Buggy reaches up with her free hand and grabs one of her breasts, squeezing it roughly as she opens her eyes again and stares down at Mihawk. She tries to watch her for as long as she can before she inevitably becomes too flustered to watch her girlfriend eat her out again. Her chest rises and falls rapidly as her orgasm builds in the pit of her gut. She’s close, so close, and lets Mihawk know by babbling out a slew of curses and poorly put together sentences. 

“Don’t stop,” Buggy whines in between sharp gasps and moans, practically begging Mihawk to keep going as she keeps her head locked in place with a firm hand. “God, Mihawk, I-” She whines as she grinds her wet cunt against her face again. 

Mihawk groans softly, and it’s then that Buggy glances down and notices that Mihawk has her hips slightly raised off the mattress and has her hand between her legs. God , Buggy thinks, feeling breathless just from looking at the sight of Mihawk touching her own pussy while she eats Buggy out alone. 

“Shit.” Mihawk hisses sharply all of a sudden, “So good,” she whines nosily,  “So, so good.” her breathless noises coupled with Buggy’s own pleasure are almost too much for Buggy to handle. She bites her lip hard as another wave of pleasure washes over her.  It seems so unfair that Mihawk won’t just let Buggy touch her, or better yet, taste her, but Buggy doesn’t have it in her to complain more right now.  

Buggy’s stomach tightens and she gasps sharply as she finally comes, “Shit, shit.” she whines out, squeezing Mihawk’s hand tightly. Her entire body goes tense for a moment, and she accidentally clamps her thighs around Mihawk’s head as her orgasm hits her. She quickly opens her shaky legs a moment later, though, and whines softly when Mihawk continues to run her tongue over her, cleaning her up and not wasting even a drop of her come.

Buggy’s legs are shaking as she closes her eyes and takes a moment to enjoy the blissful feeling washing over her body. “You’re amazing,” She murmurs to Mihawk as she strokes her head gently. Mihawk in turn, presses one last kiss against her pussy before getting up and kissing her, allowing Buggy to taste herself. 

Buggy pulls away from their kiss a moment later though, and presses her lips against Mihawk’s neck, leaving faint red spots across her skin, “Here, let me–” Buggy pants, She struggles to get her words out, but Mihawk seems to get the gist of what she’s trying to say and shakes her head. “No.” She responds without hearing Buggy out, “I’m happy just making you feel good.” But… Buggy thinks, hating how selfless Mihawk is at times. 

“That’s not–” Buggy’s words are silenced with another kiss, one that makes her pout afterwards. She really wants to make sure her girlfriend feels good, and doesn’t feel right when she’s the only one receiving pleasure because more often than not Mihawk ends up giving Buggy what she needs and doesn’t let Buggy return the favor. 

“It’s fine, I just want to take care of you.” Mihawk assures her again with a gentle peck. She reaches over and opens up their nightstand, pulling out a small bottle of lube, her harness, and a dildo, “Okay? don’t worry about me.” Buggy wants to protest, she really does, but doesn’t. She watches Mihawk put on her harness, still pouting. So stubborn, Buggy thinks a moment later as she watches Mihawk cover her cock in lube before getting comfortable between her legs again.

"You ready?" Mihawk asks softly, and Buggy whimpers, still feeling a little sensitive from her first orgasm. At the same time, though, she can’t deny that a part of her wants Mihawk to keep going. "Y-yeah, I'm ready," she murmurs, giving Mihawk a small, coy nod.

Buggy’s breath catches in her throat as Mihawk slowly sinks her cock into her. "Oh, god," She groans and quickly reaches up and threads their fingers together, squeezing Mihawk's hand tightly as she begins to start moving her hips, 

Mihawk fucks her with slow, steady thrusts, never breaking eye contact with Buggy for a moment. Her expression is soft yet focused, determined even, “Does it feel good?” She asks in a soft voice. 

Buggy nods her head quickly and hiccups out a response, “So good. It feels so, so good.” She tells Mihawk, and Mihawk gives her another affectionate smile in response, one that makes Buggy’s heartbeat soar. Buggy feels so hopelessly in love. There’s no way having someone smile so softly like that should make her feel so overwhelmed. She feels so lucky, so pretty, so loved. 

Breathy pants and moans pour out of Buggy's mouth but she's too far gone at this point to care. She just needs Mihawk as close as possible right now, she just… She lets go of Mihawk’s hand and hugs her tightly, sinking her nails into Mihawk’s broad shoulders as Mihawk slams her hips into hers. 

"Oh," Buggy whimpers, “Right there,” She says as she sinks her fingers deeper into Mihawk’s pale skin.  

Mihawk leans down and presses her lips against Buggy’s, and Buggy practically mewls into their kiss. She pulls away a moment later, turning her head to the side so she can catch her breath and, Mihawk presses her lips against her neck, sucking a bruise into her skin as she fucks her. 

Mihawk’s hips come to a slow stop before she pulls out of Buggy and flips her over. Buggy’s heart actually starts to race as her world shifts. One moment she’s looking at Mihawk and then the next, all she can see is a mountain of pillows and their headboard. Mihawk gives her a playful smack to the ass which causes Buggy to gasp, “You ass,” She hisses, but there’s no real weight to her words. 

Mihawk chuckles and gives Buggy another playful slap before she digs her nails into Buggy’s waist and starts fucking her again, “Sorry, I couldn’t resist,” She groans, dragging out her words as she speaks, “You have such a cute ass,” She says in between thrusts. 

Mihawk picks up her pace and shifts her hips ever so slightly, and when she finally hits Buggy's sweet spot, Buggy gasps sharply and claws at the sheets underneath them. Mihawk giggles again, “Does that feel good?” she asks again. God, more like amazing. And amazing turns into terrific when Mihawk pounds her pussy, causing moans and various profanities to fly from Buggy’s mouth.

Buggy lifts her head up a moment later and looks over her shoulder. She slowly starts moving her hips backwards, fucking herself on Mihawk’s cock, and enjoying the sight a lot more than she should. She can't seem to express just how good she's truly feeling right now. She never wants this pleasure to stop. She continues to fuck herself on Mihawk’s dick until one particularly hard trust has her practically crying from the overwhelming pleasure it causes. She stops moving her hips, letting Mihawk take over completely again and fuck her quick and rough. 

“Kiss me.” Buggy whines, breathlessly, and Mihawk obeys her order without hesitation. She leans forward and gives Buggy a soft, tender kiss that quickly grows rough and filled with tongue and leaves Buggy lightheaded. Her body is drenched in sweat and she feels another orgasm building in the pit of her stomach, “ God, I love you.” She tells Mihawk in between breathy pants, “God, I love you so much,” She babbles before she drops her head down and buries her face into one of the pillows at the top of their bed. "God, Mihawk, you're going to make me come again," She whines.

"Then come for me, my love." Mihawk orders as she reaches between Buggy's shaky legs and begins to rub her clit again.

Buggy doesn't last long after that, how could she when Mihawk's making her feel so damn good? One particularly hard hit to her g-spot has Buggy's toes curling before she's finally sent over the edge and coming with a loud moan. Her entire body is left trembling after her second orgasm for the night and she takes a moment to catch her breath. She whines softly when she feels Mihawk slowly pulling out of her, and she closes her eyes, feeling light as a feather and slightly sleepy. 

When she opens her eyes again, she finds Mihawk staring at her, patiently waiting for her to notice her, “What’s wrong?” Buggy asks in a hoarse voice. 

“Please, just a little more.” Mihawk asks, sounding like she’s damn near begging at this point, “You can go a little longer, can’t you? For me?” She asks, “Please, I just… can’t get enough.” 

“I…” Buggy replies, biting her bottom lip. She’s covered in sweat and getting tired, but Mihawk is staring at her with those big, pleading eyes of hers, and Buggy finds her almost irresistible. How could she ever say no to her?

“Please, just a little more,” Mihawk repeats, “I’ll take care of you, just…” She pauses for a moment before releasing a shaky breath, “Could you just sit on my face?” she asks as she leans forward to press a kiss against the side of Buggy’s temple. “Please, love?”   

Buggy feels like she’s going to scream. 

Buggy takes a moment to pretend to think about Mihawk’s request before nodding shyly, “...Sure,” She mutters, feeling her face heat up from just the thought of sitting on Mihawk’s face. They kiss again before quickly and quietly getting into position after Mihawk climbs out of her harness, with Mihawk lying down on the bed and Buggy climbing on top of her.

Buggy complains quietly about how embarrassing the situation is as she places her thighs on either side of Mihawk’s head. Mihawk, however, rolls her eyes, and reminds Buggy that it’s just her before grabbing her by the hips and forcing her down and onto her face. 

Buggy immediately gasps and grabs onto the headboard the moment she feels Mihawk’s tongue on her again, “Shit. Go slow…” She hisses and involuntarily tries to move away from Mihawk’s overwhelming touch, only to find herself unable to.

Buggy feels so sensitive right now, and every little flick from Mihawk’s tongue leaves her hissing sharply and squirming, but Mihawk has a tight grip on her. Anytime Buggy actually manages to move away from Mihawk’s touch, Mihawk simply pulls her back down and usually mumbles something like “Stay still.” before she continues to eat her out. It’s too much at first. Every suck, lick, and kiss leaves Buggy trembling and overwhelmed but Mihawk doesn’t stop.

Soon her arousal overpowers most of the sensitivity she was feeling and Buggy finds herself whimpering repeatedly as she grinds herself against Mihawk’s tongue as best as she can, just so she can get a little more. For the most part, though, Mihawk is completely in control and she laps Buggy up enthusiastically, moaning happily any time Buggy moans or calls out her name. 

However, it's one loud moan from Mihawk in particular that catches Buggy's attention. It’s then that Buggy looks back and notices that Mihawk is once again touching herself. Good God, she loves this shit, doesn’t she? 

(She’s not the only one.) 

Buggy swallows down a moan before she parts her lips and forces herself to speak as steadily as she can, “Let me…” She pauses as she feels another wave of pleasure wash over her, one that forces her to close her eyes and moan again. “Let me…” She tries to get Mihawk to stop and finally let Buggy take care of her, but she can't seem to get the words out. Mihawk sucks roughly on her clit before pulling away, panting. “No. Let me take care of you, damn it.”

“But...” 

“I'm fine,” Mihawk insists before she buries her face in between Buggy’s wet folds again. Buggy whines, but doesn’t make any further complaints. Instead, she finds herself watching Mihawk’s every movement as she quickly rubs her own clit. Buggy is utterly memorized by the sight and finds herself almost moving in sync with Mihawk as she sloppily rubs her cunt against Mihawk’s face.

It was already abundantly clear that Mihawk values Buggy’s pleasure over her own, but the way that Mihawk touches herself just highlights that fact even more. She rubs her own clit quickly, clearly just trying to get off as quickly as possible, but at the same time, she takes her time eating Buggy out, making sure she gets as much pleasure as possible. Buggy would feel bad for her if Mihawk wasn’t constantly moaning, and if she didn’t find the sight extremely attractive. 

Buggy grabs the headboard again, leaning her sweaty body against it as the pleasure once again becomes too much for her to handle. “Hawk... Hawkeye, I’m close.” she somehow manages to warn with some effort. The mere thought of coming on Mihawk’s face sends a shiver down Buggy’s spine and causes her to groan softly.

Mihawk moans loudly from underneath her, and Buggy takes that as a sign that Mihawk understands and that she’s close too. She sure sounds close at least. Her moans might be muffled but they’re becoming louder and louder by the moment, and Buggy notices how Mihawk’s moving her fingers faster just before she turns around and places her sweaty head against the cool surface of their headboard. 

Buggy’s thighs are shaking and aching, but she’s trying her hardest not to lose her balance as her orgasm inches closer. Hers and Mihawk’s moans are almost blending in with each other, and it’s hard to tell who’s making what noise, but it doesn’t matter at this point, it all has the same effect. They lose themselves in that intense moment, where everything seems to be just perfect. The perfect rhythm, the perfect pressure, the perfect amount of pleasure. The final blow comes when Mihawk suddenly squeaks and Buggy looks back just in time to see her girlfriend coming all over her own long fingers.

The sight combined with Mihawk’s high-pitched cry feels like a punch to the gut and leaves Buggy almost breathless. Buggy almost instantly feels a wave of intense pleasure wash over her entire body, and she grinds herself against Mihawk’s tongue sloppily a few more times before her body tenses up and she gasps, finally coming for a third time tonight

She manages to keep herself up just long enough to get from on top of Mihawk’s face before she collapses to the side of the bed, panting and shaking slightly from her latest orgasm. As Buggy tries to recover from her third orgasm of the night, Mihawk covers her in kisses and pulls her into her arms, holding her tightly, “Thank you,” She whispers to her, “I needed that so much."

“But I didn’t d–”

“You did enough. Thank you, I love you.”

“I love you too…” Buggy murmurs, giving Mihawk one last pout. She closes her eyes and is moments away from drifting off when she suddenly remembers that she has a full face of makeup on, or maybe she doesn’t. She isn’t sure how much of her makeup came off during sex, actually. She tries to get out of bed to check and remove any makeup that might remain on her face, but Mihawk clings to her like a koala, refusing to let her go. 

Eh, it probably doesn’t matter anyways.