#we’d love to get more friends in here!

[tetzoro]

the day the earth stood still is the day i felt your presence leave it, and then every day after that.

[calico-kiwi]

i don’t know the official day i started using tumblr (my very first account has long since been lost to the sands of time after being overrun by cobwebs) but after digging through my emails i know i’ve been here since at least May 23rd of 2020 and though that’s not nearly as long as other people, it feels like an eternity.

Happy (late) four year tumblr anniversary to me, it truly has felt i’ve been here so much longer and i love how engrained this place is in my heart

unless the site is burned to the ground with nothing left i’m pretty sure i’ll never leave <3 (despite the fact there are still problems here)

[hiraethwrote]

i've always known - satoru gojo

[ satoru gojo - f!reader ]

✧ summary: you'd known each other since childhood, growing as close as two people could grow. there was not anything you didn't do together. but life doesn't always cooperate, creating hurdles even for the most tightknit relations ✧ cw: [MDNI] childhood best friends, afab!reader, college au, fluff!!, ofc some angst sprinkled in here, mentions of underage drinking, swearing, arguing, slightly ooc satoru maybe you be the judge, jealousy, poorly written eventual smut (be patient), fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, pet names, no use or y/n ✧ word count: 17.0k (yikes sorry)

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You were six years old when you met him for the first time.

“Be nice and say hi, sweetie,” your mom spoke softly, only making you squeeze her hand harder and hide behind her.

“Hi,” you said more quiet than a whisper, if that was even possible, looking at the two strangers that had made themselves known.

But it wasn’t the unknown woman that had you so nervous, she seemed kind enough. It was the little boy next to her, a mop of crystal white hair hanging above his piercing blue eyes that were staring directly at you. With his hands stuffed into the pocket of his hoodie, he flashed you a toothless grin.

“Hello, I’m Satoru,” his tone chipper, almost like the line was rehearsed. You only stared at him with eyes big as globes before turning towards your mom again.

“Mooom,” you nagged, pulling at her sleeve. “Can we go back inside?”

“In a minute,” she reassured you before turning towards the strangers. “I’m sorry, the moving has been a lot for her,” she chuckled nervously, but the unknown lady only smiled at her.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” she laughed kindly before turning to you. “I’m sure we’ll get to know each other with time.” She shot you a friendly wink, but you only shrunk further being your mom’s leg. Instinctively, she began to rub comforting circles on your back.

“We have no doubt,” she answered for you.

Still feeling Satoru’s eyes on you, you turned to him again. Instantly your eyebrows narrowed in annoyance, not understanding why he was still staring at you, like you were some kind of weirdo.

“I really came by to invite your family over for dinner tomorrow. Wish you welcome to the neighbourhood.” Your mother instantly beamed at the request.

“That’s so nice. We’d love too, right honey?” Shifting the focus to you again. You only shrugged, not daring to look away from the strange boy.

“Great. Just drop by anytime after five and we’ll be home.” The genuine smile only amplified the woman’s already gorgeous face.

Your mom broke the intense staring competition you had with Satoru with a slight shake of the hand. “Why don’t you tell them your name?”

Looking between the two strangers standing on your porch, you shyly mumbled your name, earning you another smile from the boy. What was his deal?

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

“Why don’t you show her your room, Satoru?” The man you assumed to be his dad had said nearly the second your family had stepped into their home.

You’d given your parents a pleading look, begging them to come to your rescue seeing as you were already attending the dinner against your will. With stern glares, you knew you had no choice but to follow Satoru.

With a safe distance behind him, you reluctantly followed him up the stairs, which lead to a door at the end of the long hallway. He was clearly a well mannered kid, surprising you as he actually held the door open for you to enter first.

Small steps lead you into his bedroom and your eyes instantly grew big in awe at the sight of the huge bedroom. It was probably twice the size of yours, filled with all the toys you could imagine. Strengthening your envy was the queen sized bed in the corner of his room, because you had always been told that big beds like that were for grown ups only.

But what captured your full attention was the bookshelves in the opposite side of the room filled with manga from the floor to the ceiling. Shuffling over to them, you let your eyes travel over the familiar titles, spotting all your favourite stories.

“Are all of these yours?” You asked, turning to see him already looking at you with his hands in his pockets. He simply nodded, a proud smile plastered on his face to reveal deep dimples on each side of his face.

Unfair, you thought to yourself. What you would give to have stacked shelves like that, so you’d be able to pick up a new manga the second you’d finished another one.

“How old are you?” The random question made you turn to look at him again, his pride shifted into curiosity with his head tilted.

“Six.” He instantly scrunched his nose, seriously unhappy with your answer.

“Hmm,” he scoffed, looking down at his feet. His reaction couldn’t help but offend you, crossing your arms over your chest and sticking your bottom lip out in a dramatic pout. “‘S not fair,” he mumbled as he kicked his feet.

“What isn’t fair?” You whined, drawing his eyes back to you.

“Well, I’m eight,” he complained, but that alone didn’t explain his tone. “So why are you taller than me?” Blinking at him in surprise, a small giggle began to take over your grumpiness. “It’s not funny!”

If your parents had seen you giggle in response to someone clearly upset, you would have earned yourself a strict scowl and a lesson when you got home. Lucky for you, they were downstairs mingling with their new neighbours, so the childish giggle came bursting out of you, causing your to slap both your hands over your mouth to contain yourself.

He knew you were teasing him, but he found himself enjoying the sound of your laugh a little too much to stay upset, his shoulders sinking and eyebrows raising in delight. A subtle blush dusted over his cheeks when he began to think he might just be a little smitten by you already.

Nonetheless, it was the start of your friendship. Throughout the dinner, the two of you held a never ending conversation, which surprised your parents considering how hostile you’d been to even the idea of getting to know the young boy next door.

Both of you put up a fight when it was time for you to leave once the clock had passed nine on a school night. You eventually had to settle for seeing each other again tomorrow. Still so excited to have a new friend, you couldn’t help but tell your parents everything you and Satoru had talked about.

“And he even said I could borrow his mangas if I wanted to!”

“That’s great, honey, but you really have to go to bed now!” Your mom chuckled as she followed you into the bedroom and tucked you in. “Why don’t you tell me the rest tomorrow, hm?” You nodded eagerly, before she placed a sweet kiss on your cheek and wishing you good night before leaving your bedroom with the door slightly ajar.

You wanted to drift into sleep, but you couldn’t find it in your body to rest. So like so many other nights, you walked over to your shelves to find something to read. You didn’t manage to get that far, when something outside your window caught your eye. Curiously making your way over, you climbed up on the stool, only to be staring right at Satoru standing in his own window directly across from yours.

It didn’t take long for him to spot you, instantly waving at you with his entire arm. With the same toothless grin you’d been greeted with the previous day, you waved back at him immediately before climbing back into bed more than satisfied.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You were ten years old the first time he got grounded because of you.

Over the years, you’d just grown closer and closer for each time you hung out, which was pretty much every day. It was just a given that you would see each other at one point or another throughout the day. And if, for some odd reason, you hadn’t gotten the chance to meet up, you would catch up in the evening from your windows.

There was not a doubt that you two had become best friends. His house felt like a second home, nearly spending more time there than your own home.

Sadly, Satoru’s classmates didn’t think it was cool for him to hang out with someone who was ten. Unlike them, you were a child… and a girl, which meant you brought cooties

“Waiting for your boyfriend,” a taunting voice cooed as it gradually came closer, capturing your attention to meet three boys you recognised from Satoru’s class.

“Not my boyfriend,” you mumbled to yourself, not wanting to give them the attention they so desperately wanted. Turning away from them, you tried to ignore their rapid approach. But before you knew it, they had you surrounded.

“You know, he doesn’t really like hanging out with you.” Glaring daggers at the boy standing right in front of you, you chewed the inside of your cheek in an attempt not to let him get to you. “He’s got better things to do than hang out with stupid girls.”

You tried to cling onto the advice your mother had told you time and time again; if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all. But in this moment, that seemed like the worst possible advice. Why should you just stand there and take it when they were throwing all these mean words at you?

“You’re just upset you can’t get anyone to talk to you!” Your voice was venomous, but it didn’t seem to have any affect on him as they only snickered in response.

“Think you’re funny?”

“Just leave me alone!” You fired back, challenging his patronising look at you. For a few seconds, he held your stare before he launched forward and yanked your manga right out of your tiny hands. “Hey! Give it back!” Despite being as tall as the dumb boy, he managed to keep it just out of your reach, no matter how far you tried to stretch for it.

“I’m just having a look,” he laughed as he began to recklessly flip through the pages. From each side of you, you could hear both of his friends laugh to egg him on.

Panting and whining, you tried to reach for your book, but froze in place when you heard the sound of paper ripping. Staring at the manga in his hands, you saw how he had started to tear crumbled pages from the spine. With fake sincerity, he squeaked a small “ops” and continued to laugh. Unable to peer your eyes away from your favourite manga in pieces, the tears began to well up in the corner of your eyes. “Awe, are you crying?”

The tears didn’t have time to fall, when a familiar figure came zooming in front of you and crashing into your bully, instantly knocking him to the ground, causing him to scrape his knee. While he kept squirming on the ground, Satoru instantly snatched the book from his hands.

“I told you to leave her alone,” Satoru growled at the boy as he stumbled back on his feet, blood steaming through his torn jeans. His brows were narrowed in pure anger, telling you he was about to retaliate towards your friend, but Satoru sported a stern posture and a look that one would be stupid to defy.

Soon enough, it seemed like the pain set in after a few seconds, and the anger in his eyes turned glossy, trying to hide the fact that his bottom lip was quivering and his nostrils were flaring like he was about to cry.

Satoru shot an ugly glare at the two other boys, who didn’t seem sure what to do with themselves. “You want to taste the gravel as well?” Satoru threatened, the three boys sharing a worrying look. It didn’t take long before they decided to scatter with their tail between their legs. The boy who’d ruined your book, trying to conceal a limp but failing terribly.

The second they had their backs turned to you, Satoru turned his full attention to you with a softened expression, genuinely worried. “You okay?” He hurried to ask, scanning you from top to toe to see if there were any visible injuries. However it was only your pride, and your manga, that was wounded.

Looking down at his hands, the tears came back right away at the scene of the mangled book.

“I’m fine,” you said under your breath, eyes still glued to the manga. Struggling to find the right words to comfort you, his eyes jumped between your glistening eyes and the torn book in his hands.

“I have this one at home! You can have mine, I never liked it anyway,” he rambled as he began to wave the book around, growing more uncomfortable as he saw the small tears roll down your red and puffy cheeks. “And don’t worry about them! They’re just stupid! And jealous. And, and-“ his frantic words stopped in his throat, forming into a nervous lump when you flicked your eyes up to meet his.

Despite the redness in them and the sniffling of your nose, he couldn’t help but think you looked pretty. Which only made him feel even worse, that someone could be so cruel to you.

You shrugged your shoulders slightly, wiping away the snot and tears from your face. “Thank you for stopping them.” In defeat, you grabbed the manga out of his hands and stuffed it into your backpack, not caring if you ruined it any further.

“C’mon, let’s go home.” He placed a friendly hand on your shoulder, and you began to walk home like usual.

The walk home was mostly quiet, Satoru not daring to say anything, not knowing what to say. He wanted to help, make you feel better, but all the things that popped into his head just felt like it wouldn't be enough. So when you reached your house, you simply waved him goodbye before disappearing.

Once he entered his own home, his parents were on his neck instantly. They were furious, because they’d received an angry phone call from a distraught parent explaining how Satoru had purposely attacked their son.

Satoru had tried to explain the situation and defend himself, saying he couldn’t just let them pick on you like that. Somehow, the heroic gesture didn’t seem to outweigh when the kid had walked home with a bloody knee, bawling his eyes out.

“You never resort to violence, Satoru,” his father had yelled at him, before they told him he was grounded for a week. Satoru was speechless. He had never been grounded before, and he didn’t understand why he was being punished when he firmly believed he had done the right thing.

Unable to defend himself further, he stomped to his room and started his homework like he had been told to do. He didn’t get much work done though, as he mostly moped the entire evening, neurotically tapping his pen against the textbook.

You, much like Satoru, spent the entire evening in your bedroom. For the first two hours, you just laid in your bed, sulking. Eventually you wanted to talk to someone — not just someone, Satoru. You made your way to the windowsill, waiting for him to show. And you waited. And waited. And waited some more.

It wasn’t until you were about to head to bed you saw his silhouette cracking open the window slowly. Jumping up, you opened your window immediately. “I’ve been waiting all afternoon!”

“Shhh, you gotta keep it down,” he said softly, barely able to hear him. “I’m not allowed to talk to you right now.”

You raised an eyebrow in confusion. “What? Why?” Leaning forward in the window frame, resting your head on your forearms.

“I’m grounded,” he shrugged, checking over his shoulder every now and then to make sure no one came to check in on him.

“For what?”

“Because I shoved him. He ran like a crybaby, making it seem worse than it was.” He rolled his eyes dramatically, so incredibly frustrated by the outcome.

“Really? I can explain what happened to your parents-“ he waved his hands out the window to stop you.

“I tried. They were quite upset. But it’s no big deal. It’s just a week.”

“So, I won’t be able to see you for a week?” You complained, to which he only looked at you with big eyes. It hadn’t really hit him that he wouldn’t be able to hang out with you while he was grounded, which only made this terrible situation even worse.

Pursing his lips in thought, he opened his mouth again to speak. “Guess we’ll just have to be sneaky with window meetings at night,” he laughed, making you laugh along as well.

“I guess so.”

“I gotta go to bed before mom and dad finds me talking to you,” he sighed. “So, guess I’ll talk to you tomorrow night.” Before he managed to shut his window, you called his name again.

“Hey, Satoru?” Looking back at you with big eyes, you swallowed the lump in your throat. “Thank you for today. It really meant a lot!”

Looking at your glowing gratitude, he did not regret his actions for a single second. He even knew, should the opportunity arise, he would not hesitate to defend you again. He’d risk all the punishment in the world if it meant having you looking at him like that again.

“Good night, ‘Toru,” you smiled sweetly, his heart doing a small flip at the sound of his new nickname.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You were fifteen years old when Satoru finally grew passed you.

And once he passed you, it seemed like he never stopped. It wasn’t just you he passed, it was all his peers as well. And as he grew, so did his ego to match it. Of course, this also resulted in him endlessly teasing you.

“Imagine you used to be taller than me,” he laughed and placed his hand on top of your head.

“Yeah, and you’re the only one who cares,” you sighed, swiftly removing his hand from your head.

This all happened about the time you started high school, something Satoru had looked forward to since he himself first started high school. It finally gave you a chance to hang out during school hours, as you’d mostly been restricted to your classrooms in lower grades. He was also excited to introduce you to the small life he had there, which previously had been separated from you.

There was no doubt that Satoru Gojo, along with his small crew, were insanely popular. They basically ruled the school and they all welcomed you with open arms.

So, by association, you too became popular.

You fitted into his group perfectly, getting along with both Shoko and Suguru pretty much right of the bat. So he shouldn’t really have been complaining — except for the unforeseen circumstances that came with other people finally noticing you.

Ever since you were young, you hadn’t made a huge number of yourself, remaining somewhat anonymous, happy doing your only thing. Satoru had basically been your only friend. He knew he could never mention it to anyone, but he really enjoyed having you all to himself.

So when he noticed all the lingering looks you received just walking down the hall, some unfamiliar anger began to take shape in him.

Pretty much from your first day, he was bombarded with questions from his classmates. Who’s your friend? Is she single? Why aren’t you dating her? Will you introduce me? It got old real fast, and Satoru only found himself growing more and more frustrated by it, coming up with silly excuses to lead them in the opposite direction.

“Yeah, no, she’s- uhm, she’s single but her dad promised her a car if she doesn’t date ‘til she’s eighteen.”

They all gave him the same weird look. “If you’re seeing her, just say so.”

“No! We’re just friends!” He always rushed to defend himself, which always earned him a roll of their eyes before they shrugged off his weird behaviour. Lucky for him, his reputation saved him from anyone pushing it any further.

Despite his best efforts to keep guys at bay, there were still a few headstrong individuals who didn’t care about Satoru’s lame excuses or status, they still tried to pursue you. So to fend them off, he had other ways to make you seem unapproachable; excessive physical touch.

You never thought twice about it, as he had never been a stranger to physical touch. It wasn’t unusual for him to throw his arm over your shoulders when walking, or fidget with your fingers when he needed something to stimulate his agitation. You’d gotten so used to it over the years, that you’d simply grown accustomed to it.

After a while, most of the guys in school seemed to get the message that you were off limits. The hassle of his consistent protection for you combined with his position in the school, it just wasn’t worth it — that was ignoring some of the most persistent seniors, but he only found their attempts amusing as you so obviously found them disgusting.

Nonetheless, with time he could deem himself satisfied with the lack of male attention you received.

“So you’re joining us this weekend right?” Suguru, one of Satoru’s close friends, asked during lunch. You only narrowed your eyebrows at him in confusion. What you didn’t notice, was Satoru sitting beside you, furiously trying to stop Suguru from explaining further, glaring at him and waving his hands like a maniac.

“What’s this weekend?”

“Satoru didn’t tell you about the party?” A taunting smirk danced on his lips as he completely ignored Satoru’s disappointed glare. When you turned to question him, he immediately wiped off his disappointment and flashed you a shy smile.

“Party?”

“Yeah, I wasn’t really planning on going so,” he shrugged nonchalantly, trying to regain his ‘cool’ act.

“That’s not what you told us yesterday,” Shoko scoffed, a smirk matching Suguru’s plastered on her face.

It was in moments like these, you became incredibly aware of the age difference between the two of you. Sure, it was only two years, which you’d never thought much of — until you started high school. His interests and desires skewed in a more mature direction, which you weren’t necessarily ready for. It had become a lot more usual for him to go out with his friends during weekends. Even though he usually returned home early and met you at the window, it still sucked.

Did you want to go to the party? No, not really. But if you were being honest, you were absolutely terrified of Satoru slipping away from you if you weren’t able to keep up with him. Besides, you only felt guilt at the thought that he might have changed his mind about going because of you. So what harm could it do to attend, even if it was for just an hour?

“I mean, if you want to go,” you trailed off, wanting so much to seem natural about it all. “I don’t wanna stop you.” With a small shrug, you were almost certain to managed to seem casual.

“So that’s a yes?” Shoko cheered quietly from the opposite side of the table.

“I guess so,” a small chuckle leaving your lips.

Satoru, on the other hand, wasn’t as excited about you joining them as his friends. Nervously bouncing his leg under the table, he began to imagine all the things that could happen. He tried to tell himself the main reason he was so upset about the whole thing was that he was concerned something bad might happen, but in reality, he hated the idea of an arena for random dudes to hang over you all night.

You interrupted his spiralling when you suddenly raised from the table. “I have to run by the library before class,” you sighed before you rushed off, Satoru’s eyes never leaving you until you’d left the cafeteria.

“What is your deal?” Shoko laughed, drawing his attention back to the table. “Since when do you turn down a party, even if you leave after an hour?”

“I don’t know, just don’t think it’ll be her scene, that’s all,” he excused himself, picking at his food, suddenly not having an appetite anymore.

“I know you two, like, grew up together or whatever, and you have this strange need to protect her, but she’s able to take care of herself. You’ve seen how she talks to Fushiguro,” she laughed again.

“It’s not that,” he sighed, avoiding making eye contact with his friends.

“You remember what it was like to be a freshman. Things like these are exciting,” Suguru shot in. Satoru simply shrugged at his comment. “Look, we’ll all keep an eye on her. And you don’t drink anyways, so you’ll be more than sober enough to make sure she’s okay.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Satoru mumbled and stood up from his seat, still not looking at them. “I’ll see you guys later.”

And before you knew it, the weekend came rolling in and you found yourself clutching onto Satoru’s arm for dear life, scared you’d lose him in the crowd.

“We can leave if you want to,” he leaned down to say nearly the second you’d entered the house.

“No, no. It’s fine. Let’s just… find Shoko and Suguru.”

It was a lot to take in. People singing and dancing, chugging drink after drink. But your nerves calmed down when you felt Satoru’s strong hands squeeze yours in reassurance. And once you found the others, your body just felt a lot more at ease. It didn’t take long for you to actually enjoy yourself, even though you decided to stay away from the alcohol, at least for this time.

What wasn’t as enjoyable, was all the female attention Satoru received throughout the evening. It was no secret he was a popular guy, girls lining up to talk to him. But when it came to the girls at school, they mostly just gawked and giggled while he innocently entertained their interests. No, these girls were different. They had clear intentions of taking it further, giving him looks you did not appreciate.

And it bothered you. Oh lord, how it bothered you.

Sitting so close to you, his leg pressed up against yours, you sadly got a front row view of when the girls leaned over and batted their long eyelashes at him, flashing him seductive smiles. You were beyond uncomfortable, trying to look anywhere but scene taking place mere inches from you.

You had no reason to be upset — you were only friends and you’d only ever been friends. Never had the idea of anything else crossed your mind, but you hadn’t ever witnessed ladies glue themselves to him like this before.

“Hey, you okay?” Satoru interrupted your thoughts, turning over to see he was focused on you, the girl at his side quirking an eyebrow.

“‘M fine,” you mumbled, a small smile drawing at your lips. He scanned your face, taking a deep sigh in thought, reading you so clearly.

Out of nowhere, Satoru jumped up from his seat, holding his hand out for you to grab. He wore that award winning smile of his as he opened his mouth, “come on.”

A smile grew on your face to match his as you eagerly let him pull you off the couch before he playfully threw his arm over your shoulder, leading you out the living room. As you walked, you swore you could hear the girl he talked to earlier scoff.

“How does ice cream sound to you?” Looking down at you as he shielded out the tight crowd as he lead you out the door.

And as the two of you left the party, there was laughter on your lips and a genuine, special joy in your eyes you seemed to have reserved only for each other. Shoko and Suguru, however, kept a confused eye on you as you exited the house.

“I’ll never understand them,” Shoko shook her head, before turning to look at her friend who seemed just as frustrated by you and Satoru as she was. “I mean, they’re clearly into each other, right?”

Suguru exhaled sharply through his nose in what sounded like it was supposed to be a chuckle. “It’s weird if they aren’t.”

“When he talked about her before, I just figured they were best friends, like he said. But after meeting her and seeing them together-“

“No, I agree,” Suguru laughed before she was able to finish her sentence. “I’ve never seen ‘best friends’ act like they do.” Shoko nudged his side with her elbow to bring his attention to the girl Satoru had flirted with seconds before he had just stranded her alone on the couch, to see she was pouting, arms crossed over her chest as she stared at the door like she was waiting for him to return.

“Neither has she,” she laughed.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You were seventeen years old the first time you had your heart broken. Really broken.

Standing outside your boyfriend — no scratch that. Standing outside what was now your ex boyfriend’s front door, you tried to wrap your head around what had just happened, silent tears falling slowly down your face.

It had come out of no where. Yesterday, everything had seemed fine, and now he had suddenly come to the conclusion that you were no longer a good match? It made no sense.

Shaking your head as you took a deep breath, you knew there was only one person who might be able to help you feel a little better. Not to mention, he was probably the only person in the universe right now you could stand to see at all.

The fifteen minute walk from where you’d just had your heart stomped on to your neighbourhood had never felt longer. The silence that filled the dark and abandoned streets was numbing, leaving more room for the self deprecating thoughts to fill your mind. What had you done wrong? What could you have done differently? Was there someone else, someone prettier and funnier than you? Had you not been dedicated enough?

Despite the insane sadness that filled you, you thought if it were to happen, this weekend was probably the best timing, seeing as you wouldn’t have been able seek comfort had it happened any other time. Having taken a gap year after high school to earn money, Satoru worked a lot but he had for once gotten a weekend off. And his parents were out of town on some conference, meaning there was no risk of either of them opening the door to greet your grief struck face.

Soon enough you found yourself in front of the familiar front door, a tiny lump forming in your throat as you placed three soft knocks on the door. Before you knew it, Satoru stood right in front of you, his initial reaction of joy melting away once he processed you were upset.

“What happened?” His voice was so soft, eyes filled with worry.

“Can I come in?” Your voice was barely louder than a whisper.

“Yeah! Of course.” He stepped aside, letting you pass him and enter his home. “You want anything? Is this like an ice cream kinda situation, because I think we have some cookie dough flavoured in the freezer.”

A broken chuckle slipped out of you, followed by a sob. “No, thank you, I’m fine. Just needed to see you,” you sniffled furiously.

“Yeah, sure.” Without saying another word, you simply helped yourself up the stairs and to his bedroom. His eyes never left you as you carefully sat down on his bed and he sat down on his desk chair.

Uncomfortable wasn’t necessarily the word he’d use for seeing you like this, because it had happened before — just not very often. You’d always been a quiet charmer, if there was a way to describe it. Out of the two of you, he’d always been the loud and outgoing one, but he definitely saw you as the one who spread the most joy to those around you, a natural sense of cheerfulness radiating from you. Not to mention you were usually the one who stood for the comforting and advice, meaning he was at a loss on what to do.

“What happened?” He asked carefully.

“We broke up.” The words left you so quickly and easily, Satoru had to blink a few times to realise what you’d just said. “Or he broke up with me is probably more correct.” You avoided his gaze, staring directly at your hands tucked between your thighs, the tears leaving dark circles on your jeans.

“I thought things were going well.”

“So did I.” You wiped your nose with the back of your hand, still sniffling like crazy. “I know you never liked him and didn’t get along with him but I really liked him, y'know?”

A pang of guilt came crashing in over Satoru. He hadn’t been subtle about his dislike for your boyfriend, and it started before the two of you even became official. He did not miss the opportunity to throw a snide comment about him when you brought him up or constantly quarrel on the few occasions they were in the same room. But he couldn’t help it.

Satoru had been so focused on all the guys lining up for you in school, he hadn’t even thought of the boys that might find their way to you from elsewhere.

He still remembered the evening you came home from work at the coffeehouse, such a sweet smile on your face and a blush across your nose when he’d met you at the window that night. So giddy over this cute boy who’d chatted you up and ended up getting your number. Had Satoru known then he’d break your heart this badly, he’d tried harder to shut it down.

“I know I gave him a hard time, but I know you liked him,” he tried to comfort you. “And I’m certain he cared for you too. It’s hard not to.”

“Urgh, I’m such an idiot,” you cracked, hiding your face in your hands as the sobs just tumbled out in one steady stream.

“Hey,” Satoru said, rushing out of his chair to crouch in front of you. Tenderly he grabbed ahold of your wrists to remove them from your face, carefully trying to dry the tears away. “You’re not an idiot, okay?”

A small scoff made its way out of you between the sobs. “I’m not even sure he ever cared about me.”

When your name rolled off his tongue with more compassion than you’d ever heard from him before, your eyes snapped up to meet his. “Listen to me! I am certain he did. I know what you dedicated to that relationship, and he’d be crazy not to care for you. Not just crazy, but a damn magician as well because it’s genuinely impossible. Believe me, I know.” A small smile grew on his lips when he heard he was able to draw a small chuckle out of you. “You’re not an idiot. You just have a big heart. And he’s the idiot if he thinks he should let it go.”

He dried what seemed to be one of your last tears with his thumb, before tucking some of your hair behind your ear. His caring gaze traveled your face, taking in every detail he could when the memory from when you were kids popped into his mind. Just like that time, looking at you all red and puffy, he again found himself thinking you were pretty. Not just pretty — beautiful.

“Thank you, ‘Toru,” you whispered.

“Any time.”

“Can I stay here tonight?”

“Scandalous,” he said dramatically, earning him another shy smile from you. Both of you knew you didn’t have to ask, having slept over hundreds of time throughout the years.

“Who knew you were so good at this,” you smiled weakly as he stood up to go get the extra duvet he had in his closet, which was basically just an extra duvet for you.

“Pfft, I am Satoru Gojo after all. Is there anything I can’t do?” He flashed you a proud grin, instantly rolling your eyes at him.

“You’re not the greatest cook last time I che-“ before you were able to finish your sentence, a pillow came crashing into your face. A lighthearted giggle escaped you, and again Satoru felt his heart flutter a little, so pleased he’d managed to brighten your terrible evening a little bit.

“Watch it, sweetheart, or I’ll have you sleep on the floor.”

“You would never,” you smiled before grabbing one of Satoru’s t-shirts, like you always did, and headed for the bathroom.

Once you met your reflection in the mirror, your eyes grew as all the signs of tonight’s sorrow was incredibly visible on your face. And to think Satoru had seen you like this, knowing he’d tease you endlessly about it once things settled down and you could laugh about it all.

Your eyes were swollen from all the crying, mascara lines down your puffy cheeks. Still sniffling, you cleaned your face, dabbing a hot cloth in hopes you might redeem some of your dignity as you washed away your heartbreak. Looking in the mirror, a sigh left you knowing that this was probably as good as it was going to get. At least you didn’t have makeup smeared all over your face anymore.

Shuffling back into his bedroom, wearing his t-shirt nonetheless, a small lump formed in his throat at the sight of you as he had to fight the urge to let his eyes indulge in your entire figure. What was going on? A million times had you spent the night, and a million times had you gone to bed wearing his shirt, yet tonight felt different. He felt there was something in the air that had shifted, but it went unsaid. So without another word, he simply made his way passed you and to the bathroom. You, on the other hand, paid no attention to his odd behaviour, simply laying down on the bed on the side closest to the wall, your side.

Despite not picking up on his averted gaze, you too sensed there was something in the atmosphere that seemed different than usual, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on what. You could easily just blame the breakup, which was definitely lingering in the air, but you knew that wasn’t quite it either. There was something in the tension that you felt were directly connected to Satoru.

When you felt his weight press down on the bed next to you, you reactively turned to look at him, surprised to see he was already laying on his side looking right back at you. Staring deeply into your eyes, you felt as if he was trying to tell you something but you couldn’t make it out.

Same went for Satoru, as he felt it deep down that there was something he needed to tell you but he had no idea what it was, only that it weighed heavier on him now that the evening had been so emotional and raw.

“‘Toru?”

“Hm?”

“What was it about him you didn’t like?” Satoru couldn’t help but smirk somewhat shamefully.

“It’s not important,” a slight chuckle slipping out of him.

“With a smile like that, you have to tell me.” Satoru readjusted his head on the pillow, ending up even closer to your face than intended but neither of you pulled away.

“Well, I like it best when I have you to myself.”

“Please,” you scoffed, tucking one of your hands under your cheek, carefully tilting forward a little. “That’s ridiculous, even for you.”

“No, I’m serious,” he gave you a sweet smile. “We’ve been so close for so long, it’s weird suddenly having to share you.”

You took a deep sigh, your heart skipping a small beat at his answer. “Well, I had to share you first.”

His eyebrows instantly pinched together into a frown, a humorous smirk on his lips. “Excuse me?”

“So you’ve forgotten when you first started high school? It was always ‘Suguru this’ and ‘Shoko that’.”

“That’s not the same,” he mocked you.

“How’s that not the same?” Offended at his disregard for your experience of him suddenly having a bigger social circle, you knew it was all in a playful manner.

“Because-” was all he managed to get out before you noticed his eyes betraying him as they quickly glanced down at your lips, before looking back into your eyes. Drawing a sharp breath, you swore you might be able to spot a strong blush heat his face, but it was too dark to tell for sure.

He exhaled a shaky breath, which you felt brush against your face making you realise just how close you were to each other.

All the hairs on your body stood up when you felt his light touch brush against your arm that was resting between you. Was this weird? You didn’t know. It wasn’t like it was the first time he’d touched you like this, so what was making tonight so different?

One slight movement and your noses would grace against each other. He could do it, he could just tilt his head forward and his lips would connect with yours and he was certain it would be delicious. Your eyes had captured his gaze, and he felt as if he could stare into them forever-

No, stop!

You flinched at his sudden movements when he pulled away to turn around, with his back facing you.

His heart sunk into his stomach, mentally cursing himself now that he wasn’t facing you anymore. He couldn’t believe he had actually wanted to kiss you, his best friend. It wouldn’t be right, especially not tonight when you were as vulnerable as you were. He’d be a complete asshole to take advantage of that. Not to mention how embarrassed he would have been in the morning when you weren’t trapped under the haze of heartbreak and would have realised how much of a mistake it had been.

“Good night,” he said in his usual, cheerful tone and the curse was broken.

The next morning, you’d woken up to an empty bed, much like you always did when you spent the night. What was out of the ordinary, was seeing him in the kitchen in full swing serving pancakes and ice cream calling it “the breakfast for breakups”.

You couldn’t tell if you were hurt or not by how he was acting, as if last night never happened. Was he not going to mention how close the two of you had been to locking lip? He simply went about the morning, just as happy as he always was.

And never brought it up.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You were eighteen years old when you and Satoru fell apart.

Satoru had left for college, and at first you’d been so lost on what to do. For the first time since you were six, he wasn’t immediately at your side.

You remembered the day he left so clearly, clinging on around his neck, refusing to let go because you didn’t want him to get in his car and drive off, unsure when you’d see him again. When the two of you eventually managed to break the hug, you heard a not so subtle sniffle and spotted faint redness around his eyes.

“Don’t tell me you’re crying, ‘Toru,” you teased in between your own sniffles.

“You got me there,” he said with a sad chuckle slipping out, surprising you that he didn’t even attempt to fire back, just surrendering to his emotions. “Gonna miss you.”

“Gonna miss you too,” you whispered in response. Not much more was spoken before he drove off, like it all was just too much for either of you to talk about.

The first few days you didn’t do much else than lay in bed and wait for him to call, like he promised he would. And exactly at 8 pm, your phone lit up with his name where he told you all about how hectic his days were — and he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to have daily calls anymore once the semester started for real.

“No, of course. I mean, I go back to school soon too so.”

And as the time went on, the calls got more and more rare. From every day, to three times a week, once a week, until you were lucky it happened every fourteen days.

Even though you hated it, you couldn’t blame him. Of course he was busy, he had an entirely new everyday life filled with classes and new people. And when he did make time for the phone call, you couldn’t help but feel genuine happiness when you heard how excited he was about all of it. But you knew you couldn’t keep sitting around sulking as you waited for his call. You decided you had to be okay without him.

It was your senior year after all — it was your time to shine, and you were still with the popular crowd even though Satoru wasn’t there anymore. Now you finally had the opportunity to get to know them better.

Turned out you had more in common with them than you thought, getting particularly close with the girls of the group. And it was refreshing to have girl friends, who seemed to match some of your interests in a way Satoru never managed to. Your horizons just expanded, your schedule packed nearly from morning until night. Not to mention your weekends were also busy. The parties you and Satoru usually left early or skipped all together, had become fun.

This weekend was no different. Sitting at your vanity doing your makeup for the evening when you heard your mom’s voice yell from downstairs. “There’s someone here to see you.”

“Just send her up,” you yelled back. But when you turned around to face who you thought was your friend who was coming to get ready with you, your jaw dropped at the sight of the tall figure standing there instead.

“Her? Not the last time I checked,” Satoru smiled.

“Oh, my god, ‘Toru!” You squealed in excitement, running at him as you threw your arms around him in a tight hug, smiling even harder when he hugged you back just as firmly.

When he let you down, your eyes was instantly drawn to his. It’s been so long since you’d been able to stare into those captivating, blue eyes, and now you melted having them look down on you for the first time in months. Now that you were finally able to see him again, to touch him again, it hit you like a semi truck just how much you had missed him. You even found yourself getting a little emotional, blinking away the wetness in your eyes.

“God, don’t wanna ruin my makeup,” you laughed.

“I was just about to say, you look great,” he said, unable to peer his eyes off you, because ‘great’ was an understatement.

“Why, thank you,” you beamed at him, a smile stretching from one ear to another.

“Going somewhere?” His eyebrows narrowed, letting his chipper composure slip for just a second but he quickly tried to shake it off.

“Yeah, there’s a party tonight. The group’s going, but I can cancel if-“

“No, of course not. I’m home all weekend.” There was a slight twinge in your heart, disappointed that he didn’t have the guts to accept your offer. There was not a single ounce of doubt that you’d drop the party for him in a heartbeat — you had after all longed for him to come home to visit since the second his car had driven out of view the day he left.

“Well, maybe you could come along?” You suggested, grabbing his hands in yours.

“I just think I’m going to stay home with my parents tonight,” he swallowed, giving you a weak smile.

He knew he should have just taken you up in the offer to ditch the party, but he didn’t have the heart to, especially when you were all dolled up for the evening already.

All he’d looked forward to was come home and hang with you and catch up all night, never falling asleep because he had missed your voice so much. But he knew that eventually, the guilt would eat him up, hogging you for the night when you were supposed to be somewhere else.

Now he had to sit at home, alone and bored, because he had lied when he told you about his parents, seeing as they weren’t back in town until tomorrow. He knew he would spend the night miserable, but it would beat having to tag along at your heels to a party he didn’t want to attend in the first place and witness how close you’d gotten to all your new friends while he’d been away, still preferring to have you to himself.

“Will you at least stay until I leave? And then I’m all yours for the whole of tomorrow?” For the time being, he managed to let his blues slip away, especially when you gawked at him with a sparkle in your eyes and an infectious smile.

“Of course.” His eyes followed your cheerful walk back to your vanity as he sat down on your bed. Once seated, your conversation flowed like normal, as if no time had passed at all since the last time you saw each other. He told you about classes and how much more difficult it was now, especially seeing as he wasn’t the biggest fan of studying.

And he knew he should be excited when you told him everything about your new life. How you’d finally taken the time to get the know the rest of the group and how great they all were, how fun you had it with all of them with all the stuff you guys did in your spare time, but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t sting. He felt as if he was missing everything, losing the spot he used to have with you, replaced by his old friends. He knew it was unfair to think that way, but but there was no stopping his doomed spiralling.

“Oh, and that’s probably her coming now!” You perked up when footsteps could be heard coming up the stairs. The next second, a girl he knew used to be in his friend group stood in the doorway.

“Satoru? What a pleasant surprise,” she beamed at him, and guilt hit him when he couldn’t even remember her name.

“Yeah, just home for the weekend,” he smirked at her.

She flashed him another smile before turning to you. “You ready?”

“Just about,” you sighed. Quickly, you grabbed your purse and skipped over to Satoru. “See you tomorrow, okay?” You said cheerfully as you placed a quick peck on his cheek before running out, leaving him standing alone in your bedroom.

He stared dumbfounded at the empty space you occupied just seconds ago, still surprised by the kiss as it was something completely new. Was that something you’d picked up from the group? Did that mean you went around kissing everyone’s cheeks? His mind ran crazy with questions, all making him equally jealous.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” you whispered into the phone still ringing. It was the third time you had tried to call Satoru and he still hadn’t picked up, which was incredibly unlike him. He always picked up almost immediately, especially when you were calling.

“Hey,” you finally heard him sigh on the other end of the line.

“Thank god you answered,” you said, teeth chattering in the freezing cold. “Could you please, please, please pick me up?”

“You okay?” There was a hint of worry in his voice, but you had a sneaking suspicion he was trying to conceal it.

“No. Or yes. Or I don’t know, but I’m cold and I need to go home!” Another sigh.

“Where are you?”

“You’re my angel,” you breathed before giving him the address.

“I’ll be there in fifteen.” Before you managed to say goodbye, Satoru had already hung up. You stared blankly at the phone for a few seconds in shock of his abrupt ending, but right now, you were too cold to ponder any further on his behaviour. Tightly having folded your arms around yourself and rubbing your legs together, you desperately tried to get some heat in your body.

Finally, you saw the familiar car pull up in front of you, a sigh of relief leaving your body once you were greeted by the hot air as you sat down in the passenger seat.

“You’re really a life saver,” you spoke as you leaned your head back on the headrest, waiting to meet his eyes but he never turned to look at you. His eyes were glued to the road, a tight grip on the steering wheel as he kept chewing on the inside of his cheek. “You okay, ‘Toru?”

“‘M just fine,” he answered simply, still fixated on the road.

“Then why won’t you look at me?” You snorted, which made him quickly turn his head to give you a cold glare before looking at the road again.

“How come you were standing out in the cold all alone?” When he didn’t acknowledge your question further, you just fell back into your seat again and decided not to take it any further.

“You don’t wanna know,” you sighed, staring out the window.

“No, I’m curious.” If his tone told you anything, it was that he was pissed. You just hoped it wasn’t directed at you.

“I was kicked out.”

“What, too drunk to be in the house?” His comment caught you off guard at it seemed nothing but spiteful. You flipped your head to look at him again, only to see he was still unwilling to look at you.

“Do I seem too drunk to you?” He only shrugged, knowing the answer was ‘no’. “If you wanna know, I-“ you stopped yourself from finishing, too embarrassed to utter the words.

“Don’t get shy on my behalf.”

“I was about to sleep with someone, but after we undressed, something came over him and he just threw me out,” you complained, crossing your arms and staring at the road like he had earlier.

“You what?” Satoru exclaimed, and now he finally decided to shoot you a glare. “Who?”

“Does it matter?” You shrugged, avoiding his gaze which you knew was just purely judgemental. It seemed he was more upset about the part where you were going to sleep with someone than the fact that you were literally thrown out, which only ended up fuelling your own anger.

“Who was it?” He repeated sternly.

“Just some guy I met there, I don’t know,” you shrugged, and instantly a loud huff left Satoru.

“Wow,” he said in utter disbelief. “So this is who you are now.” Finally turning to look at him again, your face hot with anger, you saw his eyebrows were raised in frustration and his tongue was poking the inside of his cheek.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Never knew you to be someone who just spread your legs for anyone.” You gaped at him, not believing the words coming out of his mouth.

“Stop the car,” you managed to force out somewhat calmly through gritted teeth.

“I’m not stopping-“

“Stop the fucking car, Satoru,” you practically yelled at him, startled when he suddenly slammed the breaks. Once the car had stopped, you didn’t hesitate to unbuckle your seatbelt and scramble out of the car, hearing him call your name before you slammed the door shut after you.

With your arms wrapped around yourself, you started to walk down the street in the direction of your house, knowing you were still pretty far from home. But you knew you were too furious to get back in the car with Satoru.

“Come on, get back in the car,” Satoru’s voice complained down the street.

“So you can slut shame me some more? Think I’ll pass,” you shouted back. It took only a second until you heard the car engine shut off before hurried footsteps against the wet pavement made its way over to you, Satoru positioning himself right in front of you.

“Fine, sorry, please get back in the car,” he said disingenuous, scowling down at you with his hands in his pockets.

“You expect me to accept that apology?” You scowled right back at him.

“Stop acting like a brat and just-“

“Brat? Really?” You interrupted him, raising your eyebrows at him. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it just as quickly with a deep sigh. “Thought so.” Keeping your mean glare at him, you tried to walk past him, but he surprised you by taking a strong grip of your arm.

“So is this like a weekly occurrence now?” You forcefully pulled out of his grip.

You simply shrugged while trying to find the right answer, wanting to keep your own anger in check even though you felt you were close to boiling over. “I mean, there’s something happening every weekend but that doesn’t mean I always participate.” He only scoffed, turning away from you and looking around the street. “What?”

“So now you’re just this crazy party girl that sleeps with anyone that’s available?”

You truly couldn’t believe it was Satoru saying these words to you, your best friend in the entire world. The person you’d known most your life, who knew your every deepest, darkest secret and had never judged you in the slightest — suddenly throwing mean words right to your face like you were just some nobody.

“Like you’re one to talk! You flirt with any girl that has a pulse, and not just in school. Remember, you went to parties too and enjoyed wallowing in the attention of anyone who’d give it to you!”

“I never liked going to parties. I still don’t,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Glad to see some things hasn’t changed, unlike the fact that you’ve turned into an asshole,” you spat at him, trying to walk away again, but he yanked a hold of you once more.

“Well, I’m not the only one who has changed,” he said in a low voice, giving you a stern look through his eyebrows.

A light laugh of disbelief escaped you, the tears quickly starting to well up in your eyes. Was this really the same person you’d physically been unable to let go off five months ago? The one person you believed could never intentionally hurt you the way he was now?

“That’s what this is about, isn’t it?” Flickering between his eyes, you knew you’d caught on. “Did you really think I was going to sit around and wait for you?”

“I certainly didn’t expect you to go and replace me the first chance you got.”

“Replace you?!” You exclaimed before the entire sentence had left his lips.

“Yes, replace me!” He fired back, his tone more angry than he wanted it to be, because sadness was all he truly felt.

“So you haven’t gotten any new friends at university?”

“That’s different-“

“Oh my god, Satoru,” you moaned in frustration, your hands rubbing your face. “I am so tired of you saying it is different for you! You’ve done that for years.”

Satoru had his hands deeply tucked in his pockets, his shoulders up to his ears with tension. He was already filled with guilt for talking to you this way, something he’d never done before. Then again, he couldn’t remember having this many negative feelings regarding you running wild in him.

“It’s baffling to me that you’re actually saying all these things to me, like it isn’t you that keep postponing our phone calls.” You said, your tone transformed from anger into the sorrow that had taken residence in you instead.

He breathed your name, almost like he seemed disappointed in a way. “Classes are riding my ass.”

“You don’t think I know that?” You fired back immediately, your tone remaining calm as you continued to hold back the tears. “But truth is, it has caused you to not make time for the phone calls.”

“You can’t expect me to be able to make time-“

What seemed to be the mix of a sob and a scoff parted your lips, cutting him off. It was like talking to a brick wall, because it felt like nothing you said reached him.

Had he always been like this? Too wrapped up with his own idea of being right that he took no regards for your opinion? If so, how had the two of you managed to go all those years without you properly realising it?

“If you haven’t been paying attention, it’s not me that’s had too many expectations, but you!”

His head fell back, retrieving his hands from his pockets to fold them over his chest. As his entire posture turned loose, you couldn’t bare to look at him when the first tear fell. He just seemed to be so sick of this conversation — sick of you — an idea that made you want to throw up on the spot.

“You’re being unreasonable,” he said in a low voice, as if he knew he was in the wrong but too stubborn to back down. He’d already been so cruel, a part of him feeling like he had already gone too far to double down now.

“I’m being unreasonable?!” You snapped, walking right up to him, now close enough to feel the heat radiate off him. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding with me?”

Never in a million years could you have predicted your favourite person in the universe to speak to you this way, biting your head off for simply living your life. But it went deeper than being upset about you going to some random party. It seemed like he truly disliked the person you were right now, and nothing had ever hurt you as much.

“For the record, I did wait. So many nights I just sat in my room, staring at the damn phone, waiting for you to call.” You were sobbing now, all restraints of your tears out the window. “But I think you’re not half as busy with your studies as you claim to be, but very busy making new friends, which is why it’s nothing but cruel of you to go at me like this!”

“You always do that!” He snapped, causing your sobs to halt for a second, eyebrows quirking up in surprise. “You always assume these things about me, paint me out to be this specific person without having all the facts.”

“I know you better than I know myself, for fucks sake! You hate to work, avoid it for all that it’s worth, and now you’re trying to tell me you work so hard?” Silence. “And you’ve always loved attention. You feed on it, and every single living person on this planet can’t help but just give it to you! I’m willing to bet my last dime you’re surrounded with all sorts of people just fighting for your time!”

Without stuttering, you fired shot after shot, feeling bad even though every last word of it was true.

The reality of the fight washed over you, knowing you’d never fought like this before. A friendship spanning twelve years was doomed to have some disagreements along the way. And with both you and Satoru having such strong personalities, there had been quite a few. But never had either of you ever turned mean, like right now, no matter how serious the argument had been.

“Despite what you might think, I’m not one of your silly school girls who just follow you around to stroke your ego. I’m my own person, always have been. And I’m sorry you’re pissy about the fact that I’m doing fine without you here and I’m sorry that the image you had of me is finally shattering.”

You felt you’d gotten what you had on your mind off your chest, and all that fell out of you now were uncontrollable sobs. Not only were you absolutely devastated, but you were scared. The person that stood before you didn’t feel like someone you knew, meaning you had no idea what might come out of his mouth next.

“Think I see you clearer than ever.”

Sucking your bottom lip in between your teeth, you tried to choke back your sobs, not feeling he was worthy of hearing the affect he had on you right now. You slowly began to nod your head, looking about for a few seconds before you simply began to walk away without saying another word. And this time you didn’t feel his hand grab your arm.

The second your head had hit the pillow after you’d gotten home, you erupted into loud, unruly sobs, that even managed to wake your parents. They stormed into your room, beyond scared something was terribly wrong, and your mom managed to pull your head into her lap, stroking your hair in an attempt to get you to calm down so you’d be able to tell them what had happened, but to no prevail. While she desperately tried to hum you to peace, your dad stood watching in anguish as he had no clue what to do in order to help.

Eventually, the sobs wore you out to the point where you fell asleep in her lap.

Waking up the next morning, you’d felt like it had all been just a horrible nightmare, and in just a few minutes, Satoru would stand at your door, so excited to just do absolutely nothing with you like you had planned.

But you sat in your bed and stared at the door, waiting for him to show up but he never did. When you became restless, you paced around the room, daring to glance out the window in hopes you’d spot him sitting by his windowsill. But here too, you were left disappointed. No Satoru shaped silhouette made himself known, and at some point during the day, he had shut the blinds without you noticing.

Two days later, your mom came into your room and asked why Satoru had left to go back to university already when you guys hadn’t hung out yet.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You were twenty years old when you started university.

After a therapeutic gap year of working and travelling, you were finally ready to go back to school, excited to see what the life of a university student was all about.

So far it all seemed to go as smoothly as one could hope for — moving in and setting up in your small dormitory, putting in a lot of effort to make it a space where you could feel at home. Signing up for classes and getting all the books you needed was easier than expected, some kindhearted strangers more than willing to help you get it all right. And lastly, finding your way around campus wasn’t nearly the issue you thought it would be. You easily manoeuvred your way around the grounds, quickly coming across spots you could picture yourself just hanging out.

You were more than prepared by the time the first class rolled around, entering the huge auditorium, nervously walking down the stairs and sitting down in an available seat in one of the rows closer to the front.

Suddenly it began to dawn on you that you were actually in university, working your way to a future career like you’d always talked about. All your hard work in school, your academic achievements, finally paying off, letting you be in environment of equally dedicated individuals.

However, even though your peers seemed to be on the same level as you academically, you got the impression they had excelled passed you socially already. As you let your eyes roam the crowd, you noticed how people had already made friends and even formed groups, greeting each other with warm smiles as they sat down together.

You didn’t have the chance to brood about it for too long, as a roaring voice spoke up from the front of the classroom, drawing everyone’s attention to him, the chatter quickly quieting down. The assertive figure introduced himself before heading straight into the plans for the semester, asking if anyone had any questions. While a few students raised their voice, you just desperately wrote down everything being said, just in case it might be useful somewhere down the line.

“I look forward to teach you this introductory class in education. I’m sure you’ll make great teachers one day,” he smiled. “Before we get started, there’s someone I’d like to introduce. I have the privilege of being assigned a TA this semester — come on up.”

Everyone’s eyes followed the professors gesture towards the person who’d just gotten up from his chair by the exit. All the air was immediately sucked out of your lungs when your eyes landed on the one person you hadn’t expected to see.

“Good morning everyone,” he said in his characteristically suave voice, hearing the girls in the auditorium instantly begin to whisper amongst them at the sight of him. “I’m Satoru Gojo, I’ll be the professors teacher assistant this semester. Any questions you might-“

The words instantly died in his throat when his gaze landed on you, tensed up in your seat. He could almost see you shiver under his intense glare.

Nearly two years had passed since the last time he saw you, and not a day had gone by where he hadn’t cursed himself for how he treated you that night. He regretted it all, but hadn’t been able to bring himself to face you and apologise, even though you more than deserved it.

Eventually, the days just passed him by and it felt like an injustice for him to just jump into your life again so he decided not to, which resulted in the most miserable two years of his life.

You wanted to look away, but the shock of seeing him again had taken over your body, holding your attention hostage under his drilling blue eyes.

He’d let his hair grow a little longer, which suited him, even though he didn’t need it to improve his looks. It also seemed to have bulked up a little. Not much, just enough for you to notice as his navy, button up shirt hugged his arms in a way his clothes never had before.

“Mr. Gojo?” The professor’s voice broke his stare, bringing him back to real world and acknowledging all the faces staring at him.

“Yeah, sorry-“ he cleared his throat. “Any questions you might have, don’t hesitate to come to me,” he stuttered over his sentence, shooting you quick glance even though he tried to keep his attention on the crowd.

With a shy smile, he made his way back to his seat, his eyes once again finding you as he was seated. You shrunk in your seat, your entire body on fire from having his eyes observe you for the first time in so long, sure you’re heart might actually stop from the stress.

Throughout the entire lecture, you both kept stealing glances from one another, an unspoken sensation filling the air between you, like you both could feel how badly you’d missed and craved the other the period you’d been separated.

His eyes carried the same weight they always did when looking at you, uncomfortably restless in your seat, fidgeting with the paper of your notebook and trying to keep the tapping of your foot to a minimum. When your eyes weren’t automatically drawn to Satoru, you peeked at the clock hanging above the whiteboard, begging for time to pass so you could storm out of the classroom and finally be able to breath properly again.

You were sure the seconds lasted longer now than normal, but the lecture finally ended and you instantly began to gather your things, shoving them in your bag as quickly as possible. Daring to shoot Satoru another look, you were glad to see he’d been surrounded by students (mostly girls), hindering him from making his way to you — or so you thought.

“I have a meeting to get to,” Satoru lied, looking at you packing up your stuff before rushing up the stairs towards the auditorium exit. “But here’s my email. Just… send whatever questions you might have and I’ll answer as soon as I have the time.” It didn’t seem like anyone picked up on the fact that he was lying through his teeth, but they all wore a disappointed expression when he began to push his way through the crowd, sprinting up the stairs to catch up with you.

You stopped dead in your tracks, even though you wanted to just keep moving, when you heard that silky smooth voice speak your name. You reluctantly turned around to face him, still only managing to let out shallow breaths.

“I- Uhm.” Now that he finally had your full attention, his mind ran blank and his mouth dry, in awe at your familiar eyes staring up at him, lips pressed together in a tight line. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you tried to reply, but barely a sound could be heard. His eyes shot to your feet, as you kept shifting your weight from one foot to the other, clearly not at ease seeing him again.

“You look- I mean I didn’t know you wanted to become a teacher,” he stumbled over his words, his hand coming up to rub the nape of his neck.

“Me neither,” it slipped out of you, instantly pinching your eyes shut when you reflected on what had left your lips. “What I mean is I only decided recently.”

He groaned softly, feeling like nothing he wanted to say would be enough. “You finding university alright?”

It hurt. Holy hell, how it hurt, not to have the conversation flow as natural. Every atom in your body tried to convince you to just lean into what you were used to, resurrect the friendship just like that.

You nodded frantically at his question. “Yeah, much to see.”

Clearing his throat, he gathered up the courage to ask what had roamed his mind since he spotted you at the start of the lecture. “If you’re ever available, I’d love for us to grab a coffee or something,” he said it so quickly you were barely able to decode what he even suggested, but once it registered, you drew another sharp breath.

“Sure.”

“Really?” Narrowing his eyebrows at you, he hadn’t expected you to accept so willingly. He hadn’t really expected you to accept at all, if he was honest.

You didn’t know if you regretted accepting his invitation so quickly, but if there was a chance he’d apologise, you wanted to hear it simply because you deserved it. Or maybe that was the excuse you told yourself because you so desperately wanted to hang out with him.

“You haven’t changed your number, right?” You shook your head. “I’ll just text you.” The faintest smile grew on your lips as you simply nodded, a light blush spreading across Satoru’s face at the delightful sight.

“See you around, ‘Toru,” you said out if habit, quickly turning around and walking away so he wouldn’t be able to see that you too were blushing, regretting the use of his old nickname.

It didn’t even take two hours before your phone dinged with a text from him, where he suggested a time and place.

toru <3: how about next friday after the lecture? there’s this great coffeehouse five minutes from campus

you: sounds good :)

It seemed Friday couldn’t come quick enough, your anxiousness building up every lecture you had together. Despite feeling like the worst of the shock had passed as you simply flashed each other a friendly smile and a small wave when you saw each other, your mind would never get peace until everything was out in the open.

And now you finally sat opposite him, a strong grip on your mug to put your nerves somewhere. Satoru was scared you might shatter it, your knuckles turning white by how hard you were clutching at it.

“I’m really glad you decided to join,” he started awkwardly.

In all the years you’d known him, you’d never had the satisfaction of witnessing him awkward. It seemed like his default setting was mr. smooth talker, always able to find the right words in order to get what he wanted no matter how unlikely it seemed. But all that was out the window, staring at you with a sense of embarrassment, looking like a scared, young boy forced to face his stupid crush, waiting to get rejected after a sorry attempt at asking for a date.

“Me too.”

“You look really pretty- I mean, you look great. You’ve turned out pretty. Not that you were ugly before, you’ve never been ugly. In fact-“

His clumsy attempt at talking to you was cute, which was all it took to start chipping away at your cold exterior, the corner of your lips betraying you as it curled up in a small smirk.

“Thank you,” you said softly, his shoulders instantly relaxing.

Something about you was definitely different, but the tone in your voice made him realise it was actually you that was sitting in front of him; his best friend. There was no reason he shouldn’t be anything but comfortable around you. Especially now when he’d been offered the opportunity to maybe make amends, he couldn’t throw it away.

“I’m sorry,” he said genuinely. “I don’t want to give you any dumb excuses, because there aren’t any. I’m sorry and you didn’t deserve any of what I said to you that night.”

His voice had turned steady now, taking back the assertiveness you were so used to hearing. “I’m sorry too.”

He instantly snorted, much to your surprise. “You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about.” He seemed to hold back a chuckle.

“Well, duh, but thought it was polite thing to say.” You were surprised by your own words, mirroring his humoured and shocked expression. Maybe he didn’t deserved to have you resort to playful banter already, but it just fell out of you so naturally. “You look great too, by the way.”

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown,” he smirked smugly, while you rolled your eyes at him.

“Uneasy is the head that wears the crown,” you corrected him, trying to suppress the smile tugging at your lips.

“Okay, nerd.”

Your lips pursed together, unable to fight it anymore, a sweet smile hiding under the annoyed facade — and he noticed, his heart doing a full flip at finally being able to see it in person again. He’d only been able to dream of it in the time apart, and a hope began to spring in him that finally he might get you back in his life.

And this was just the first coffee of many. It started as a weekly thing, in the beginning consisting of airing it all out in order to establish the trust again. But it didn’t take long until you both fell into an old and familiar pattern.

It started with tagging along to lectures. Next thing, Satoru suggested you ordered dinner while studying, however not much studying was done. The evening was spent sitting on the floor of your dorm, stuffing your faces with take out and reminiscing of your days back in high school, talking about all the gossip and drama that went down.

There was a mutual understanding that you both had to make up for the lost time, both sad you’d wasted so long not being in contact when it could all have been resolved if you’d both been mature enough to just reach out.

But despite both of you resorting to old habits, quickly acting as close as you were back then, things had escalated.

Before, he’d simply thrown his arm lazily across your shoulders without a single thought. Now his muscular arm held a more possessive grip on you like he was preventing another outcome of you slipping away. And unlike before, you matched his energy, letting your arm slide along his back and grab tightly ahold of his waist to secure him close to you.

When he subconsciously began to fidget with your fingers, you eventually let your fingers glide between his to interlock your hands, where both of you just let them rest, his thumb softly stroking you.

And when he was gentleman enough to open the door for you every chance he got, he gawked at you with pure affection in his eyes and he sneakily let his hand rest on the small of your back as you passed him.

Neither of you ever mentioned it. You gladly just let it happen, both leaning into it, getting more and more touchy as time went on. And it didn’t go unnoticed by your fellow students, ugly glares in your direction as they wondered how you’d gotten so close to the incredibly hot TA in the matter of weeks, also considering how many people he had throwing themselves at his feet.

You couldn’t care less however. You were simply living in the joyful bliss of having your best friend back.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

His jaw dropped to the floor when you stepped out of the bathroom, not even noticing his lingering gaze on you, simply walking over to your purse to get your lipgloss.

The sinfully short dress hugged your curves just right, leaving little to the imagination. His eyes darted to the knee high, leather boots that elongated your enticing legs before letting his eyes indulge up your body, tracing your exposed collarbones-

“Satoru?” Drawing his attention to your face, which genuinely left him stunned having enhanced your already beautiful features, hair tucked up messily by a claw clip. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

More like an angel, he thought, trying to snap out of the haze you had him under as he slowly began to approach you.

What was happening?

There was a hunger in his eyes you’d never seen before, at least not looking at you. It was like he moved in slow motion, your heart quickly picking up the pace the closer he got. “Satoru?” You asked again, but a tremble in your voice exposed your nerves. “What are you doing?”

A confident, on brand smirk made its way onto his face, revealing his infamous dimples as he let his hand slip to your cheek, sliding it to the side of your throat and letting his thumb draw graciously soft lines along your jaw.

“I should have kissed you that night.”

His quiet confession filled the room, having your sole focus be his eyes, those beautiful, heavenly eyes that always saw right through you. The night in question had often played in your mind, fantasising about what could have happened if either of you had decided to cross the line.

“Would you have kissed me back?” The dominance in his voice had a weird influence on you, causing your eyes to flicker away from his eyes to travel across the attractive line of his curved lips.

“Without hesitation.” His grin widened, his thumb now moving to stroke your bottom lip. Much like that god forsaken night, he leaned forward, but this time he let his nose brush against yours, his breath brushing against your lips.

“We’re skipping the party,” he whispered.

“Didn’t wanna go anyways,” you huffed before finally being the one to engage the kiss, crashing into his lips, just as soft as you’d always imagined them to be.

Hungrily tying you arms around his neck in order to help deepen the passionate kiss, you felt his tongue slide along your bottom lip as if he was asking for you to open your mouth, to which you happily obliged.

His firm hands slid down your waist before stopping at your thighs, squeezing slightly into your plush flesh. Without breaking the kiss, you jumped into his arms with ease, wrapping your legs around his slim waist as he placed his hands on your ass, not an ounce of fear in you that he’d ever drop you.

Your hands found their way to his soft hair, instantly drawing out a soft moan from him, causing you to smile into the kiss.

“That’s what you like, huh?” You teased, pulling away from him order to get a look at his face.

“Shut up,” he chuckled before reconnecting your lips when you felt he began to walk in the direction of your bedroom.

Since rekindling your friendship, everything had moved at the speed of light. As it all had happened, you’d noticed the increased intimacy, both physically and mentally, but you hadn’t wanted to assume it was anything more than just a result of missing each other.

You’d experienced a new sensation of yearning for Satoru, one that had previously only passed you by in random split seconds which you’d always suppressed to the back of your mind. Never had you wanted to jeopardise your friendship for anything, especially for what you thought was just innocent lust that naturally washed over anyone that was in the close vicinity of Satoru.

But clearly you were wrong. Maybe there had always been a stronger desire to explore him in a different way that had just been buried because it seemed illegal. Not to forget the fact that it was being reciprocated, his strong hands exploring your body with an urgency you had never experienced with anyone before.

The meaningful and deep history only appeared to fuel the hunger you felt for one another, behaving as if neither of you had experienced the phenomenon of another person’s touch in a lifetime — and it was only specifically each other who could satisfy the need.

Still with a tight grip, he hesitatingly let you down, his hands sliding up your body to hoist your dress so it gathered around your lower abdomen. “This dress need to come off, baby,” he breathed into your mouth as he continued to pull it up your body.

You simply lifted your arms to let him twist the dress over your head, his eyes instantly locking to your perky tits as if they were calling his name. Before he had the chance to give into the temptation of fondling them, playing with your nipples, you tugged at the bottom of his sweater. No way you were going to stand in all your glory while his clothes served as a hindrance to your desire.

Again his alluring smirk greeted you, more than willingly pulling it over his head to reveal his chiselled torso, confirming your theory that he had gotten bulkier, because you would definitely have remembered if he looked like that before.

“Is this crazy?” You asked shakily after having removed your shoes and reaching for his belt buckle. Noticing the slight jitters hiding between your excitement, he snatched ahold of your chin to force you to look at his face.

“Not crazier than the fact that I should have done this ages ago.”

Pulling your face towards him, he had you standing on your tip toes in order to dedicate as much of yourself to the kiss as humanly possible.

Once the pants were off him, your hand found his chest, fighting the urge to dig your nails into his toned pecks, guiding him backwards to sit down on your bed. With glee you straddled him, embarrassment flushed your cheeks as a needy whimper just fell from your lips when his huge bulge ended up pressing against your clothed core, an amused eyebrow quirking up on Satoru’s face.

“Damn, calm down,” he teased, your nose scrunching up to conceal the playful smile that was taking over.

“Idiot.” Grabbing his face, you let your open mouth graze against his when one of his hands palmed your clothed pussy, pulling another moan from your lips.

Without warning, he pulled your black laced panties aside, his thumb rubbing small circles on your clit. You bit your lip to choke back yet another moan. Knowing Satoru, you knew he’d forever hold it against you — how he managed to withdraw those lewd sounds from you so easily.

“So wet for me already, sweetheart,” he panted, enjoying the view of your scrunched up face of pleasure. “Can’t wait to feel you around me.”

“‘Toru, I-“ you forced out when you felt him slip two lengthy digests inside you as he traced soft, little pecks along your collarbone that he had admired earlier. Hearing you barely able to utter his nickname mixed with the low squelching of your pussy, basically drenched already, was something he had only been able to imagine before. And god, was the real thing ten times better than his fantasy.

“Getting shy around me, pretty? That’s unlike you.” Again you wanted to roll your eyes at him, because he was even more cheeky when having you at his mercy than normal. But the consistent pressure on your sensitive nub along with the movement of his fingers were too much to even give that a try.

Fingertips clawing at his shoulders, slowly starting to rock your hips as you were being drawn closer and closer to the edge.

His smooth motion had you seeing stars behind your eyelids, the tingle of orgasm bubbling up inside you when he had you gasp in disappointment when you were deprived of his skilled touch.

Motherfucker.

“What-“ your eyes fluttered open in confusion before you were thrown off his lap, landing softly on your back, sinking into the mattress. Next thing, his boxers hit the floor, exposing his already rock hard dick. Eyeing the size, his cocky personality suddenly made a whole lot of sense.

Hovering over you, he swiftly tilted your head to the side to place a series of open mouthed kisses as he used his leg to spread your legs apart, setting himself up between them, feeling his tip slightly touch your entrance as it twitched.

“I need you,” it vibrated against your skin, one arm wrapping around his back in a desperate need to feel every inch of him, while the other traveled south to lace around his dick. It was your turn to draw sounds from him, a small, satisfied giggle ringing in his ear as a reaction to hearing his pathetic whimper.

“Sorry,” your giggle trailed off when he lifted his head to look down at you, the ghost of a smile on his face telling you he enjoyed the small banter during it all.

You gave him a few slow pumps, using your thumb to rub some of his precum across his tip, aligning him with the opening of your cunt as he punished you with a rough kiss on the lips.

That’s when you finally let go, your hand finding his back again to prepare yourself to be filled with his dick. He didn’t wait to slide into you with ease, gasping softly as you involuntarily clenched around his size, trying to get used to it.

“You okay?” He mumbled as he rested his forehead against yours. You only nodded before pulling him in for another kiss, reassuring him that you were alright and more than ready.

The line was officially crossed — no going back now. You could never go back to being just best friends, but maybe that was for the best, that maybe you’d always meant to be more. Every fibre of his being had for a long time ached to have you like this, spread out and desperate for him and only him.

At first he moved in a slow and sensual pace, wanting to be entirely sure you could take it. Eyeing your expression in awe, finally being able to be the one to make you grimace with pleasure.

“Wanted this for so long,” he murmured, being driven to lose all control hearing all your sweet whimpers, occasionally mumbling his name, which had him buck his hips faster and deeper, desperate to push you to climax.

Taking every inch of him over and over, stretching around him, he glanced down to get a look of the beautiful sight, his cock moving in and out, in and out, like you were made for him.

Your nails burrowed into his back before dragging down, too dazed in the bliss of Satoru’s cock stuffed in you to care about the red lines you knew you’d created, marking him as yours. Your toes curled as he kept feeding you horny affirmations and heartfelt compliments.

“Fuck fuck fuck, look at that.”

“God you’re so beautiful.”

“Taking me so good baby.”

“Fuck, should have done this ages ago. Look so pretty around me.”

“Hngh, ‘Toru,” you mewled. “I’m gonna c-cum,” you begged, squeezing your eyes shut and arching closer to him to chase your high.

“As you wish.” Something snapped in him, slamming into you at an unbearable speed, balls smacking your ass as he kept shoving into you. You tried to make out words to tell him you were about to reach your limit, but you were too fucked out to form anything coherent, just a string of cute sounds of pleasure leaving your pretty mouth. “Cum f’me.”

His simple command had you nearly scream as the sweet release washed over you, head pushing back into your pillow as he gave you the most intense orgasm you could remember. He fucked you through your high, feeling your body pressed against his until he too reached his climax, filling you with cum, a loud groan left him before his thrusts became lazy and sloppy.

He pulled out, collapsing on the bed beside you. You both turned to look at each other, instantly making eye contact. Whatever flashed between you caused you both to break into a calm laughter. Once it died down, your flipped to lay on your side and rested your chin on his shoulders.

“Should have known you’re quite a talker during sex, it adds up.”

“Is this complaining I hear?” He taunted, pinching his eyebrows together to challenge your statement. “Because the way you just moaned my name like a slut-“

“Okay, fine, I’ll sush,” you laughed before hiding your face in the crook of his neck in embarrassment. Carefully he nudged his shoulder to have you look at him again, needing to take in your flushed face after it all, eyes roaming every part of it. “So what happens now?” You breathed softly as your finger began to trace weak circles on his still damp chest.

Without thinking, he tilted your head up and placed an affectionate kiss on your forehead. “I know I don’t wanna waste anymore time not being with you.”

“We really screwed up there, huh?” As his secure arms wrapped around you to have you as close to him as possible, his chest vibrated with a low chuckle.

“Not my fault you were out and about, throwing your phone number at your customers.”

“Oh alright, if you wanna blame previous conquests, then there’s-“ he instantly placed his large hand over your mouth to muffle the list of girl names you could remember him being with.

“Still such a brat-“ you interrupted his insult by defending yourself the only way you could, sticking out your tongue to lick all over his palm. Before you even had the chance to understand what was going on, it backfired when he instantly rubbed his hand all over your face, smearing your spit.

“Satoru,” you squealed before you both fell into a fit of laughter again.

Well into the night, you just talked and laughed. Sharing every single moment from your friendship that might have been pent of feelings for each other, realising this was how it always should have been. Neither of you had to hold back on the affection or affirmation anymore in fear of jeopardising what you already had. If anything, the relation you already shared only seemed to further ignite what would come to be.

For the first time, you fell asleep in his arms, being his.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You were twenty-seven years old when life was just perfect.

“But pretty please!” Nobara complained, hands pressed together in prayer, close to falling to her knees to beg you to do her this small favour. It earned her an offended frown from both her classmates standing on each side of her. “It’s a testosterone nightmare.”

Before you were able to give her any form of response, two lean arms came lurking around your waist to spin you around, drawing bubbly giggles from your lips.

“My god, Satoru, we’re at work!” You managed to force out between your joy, eventually feeling your feet planted safely on the ground again. He lazily rested his arm across your shoulders, towering over the group with a content smile on his face.

“Sorry, just got excited.” He placed a small peck on the crown of your head, sprinkling a tint of pretty pink on your cheeks.

Over and over you’d told him to keep his devotion to you on the down-low in public, especially in front of the students but he never managed to follow the simple request, having the two of you act like love sick teenagers. And as much as you pretended not to, you melted as much at his antics now as you did way back when, rarely putting up much of a fight to actually tone down his behaviour.

Looking at the three first years in front of you, both Nobara and Megumi had a hint of disgust at the sight of how mushy Satoru got with you, always having a desire to be in contact with you one way or another. Yuji, on the other hand, always admired the sheer transparency of the relationship.

“So what’d I miss?”

“Nobara want me to give her private lessons because she’s sick of you boys.”

“Young miss Kugisaki, dare I say I’m disappointed?” Satoru said, acting overly dramatic, sporting pinched eyebrows to have them believe he was actually hurt.

“Gojo-sensei, I have reason to believe I’ll learn even more having a female teacher,” she pouted.

“Ouch,” he breathed in response.

“You’ll tough it out,” you chuckled, a small thank you whispered from the tall man pressed against your side before you opened your mouth again. “I mean, think about how I have it. At least you’re only linked to him during school hours while I live with the guy. I can never catch a break-“

A grunt escaped you as the arm draped around you tensed up, pulling you into a strong headlock. Endless laughter leaving you as you so desperately tried to pull out of his grip but to to prevail, cheek smushed against his ribs.

“Can you guys believe it?” Satoru gasped before carefully pulling up his blindfolds slightly to reveal one of his eyes to look directly down at you. “My own wife?”

“‘Toru!” He just smiled down at you at the happy sounds from your beautiful mouth, also amused by your weak attempt to break free from his hold on you, messing up your hair as you desperately tried to pull your head back.

“You’re both insufferable,” Megumi rolled his eyes, just wanting to go on with his day.

“All I’ve done for you over the years, and still you find it in you to talk to me like that,” shaking his head in faux disappointment. You were finally able to pop your head out from his grip, not at all due to the fact that he intentionally loosened his hold on you a little. A low chuckle rumbling at the sight of your pouty lip hidden behind your bristly hair.

Pushing it out of your eyes, you clicked your tongue as you turned your attention to his students again. “Don’t listen to a word he says.”

“I’ll have you know, I’m their favourite teacher,” he said proudly, shoving his hands in his pockets, leaning forward a little to me on the same level as you.

“Isn’t much competition when you’re their only teacher.”

“You’re feisty today. Get up in the wrong side of the bed this morning?”

“No, I think it might have something to do with you hogging the covers all night.”

The bickering continued, bickering only possible to come from two people who’d been best friends for decades, eventually causing the three friends to walk away with either of you noticing.

“Wipe of that grin, sir, or you’re sleeping on the couch,” you threatened, nothing but pure amusement in your tone. His fingers found your face, squeezing your soft cheeks together, causing your sweet lips to stick forward looking more than inviting. A low giggle once again harboured deep in your throat, trying your best not to let them spill.

His face came closer — oh how he still managed to have the butterflies go crazy inside after all these years never seized to amaze you, feeling the alluring look through his blindfolds.

“We both know you’d come crawling into my arms after an a hour,” he teased, close enough to your puckered lips for you to feel his warm breath.

“Nuh uh-“ was all you were able to muffle out between his fingers.

“Damn, I love you,” he spoke softly before planting a kiss on your mouth, unable to hold back the smirk that grew when his grip changed to a tender cup of your cheek.

Sometimes it baffled you how you both managed to be so incredibly, deeply and stupidly in love with each other. You’d think after all those years with so much devotion and admiration shared, you would have grown tired of each other by now.

But you guessed it helped to be best friends with the person you’d chosen to be with for the rest of your life.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

a/n hehe this is long... this is basically a love letter to gojo after 261, where i had my heart absolutely shattered like most of us yk. ive been super motivated to write it tho so just last week i had 30 hours screentime on my notes app lol... now, ive said it before and ill say it again, i am NOT a smut writer (clearly). personally, thats the part here i like the least bc i just feel like i cant get it to flow naturally... besides that hope you guys like this

reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated

plagiarism not authorized

[saerins]

ᯓ ᝰ CRAZY GOOD .ᐟ — itoshi sae

hold up, netizens. you’re in for a treat this time because guess what? out of all people, it’s time for itoshi sae to hard launch his girlfriend: you.

itoshi sae x female reader. content tags pro-player!sae, established relationship, profanity, kissing, kind of a tease here, he likes showing you off, oliver is the matchmaker. word count 1.5k

ᯓ notes .ᐟ hi guys i finally have some sae content for you all !!! >:) yes i’ve missed him , and no i didn’t abandon him :’) heh i hope all my sae lovers that are still here will like this mwah <3

there are many things that itoshi sae is good at.

soccer skills, one of them. snubbing people, the second. (that’s how he got the reputation of being rude—even if it’s not really true!) and three, not last and not least (but still substantially), it’s causing a buzz.

he caused a buzz the moment he debuted on the soccer field. his first game and he already made a name for himself. people started asking where he’d been his whole life (even if he was introduced to the people very early on), equating him to soccer megastars like cristiano ronaldo.

ever since that day, he’d been caught in the spotlight numerous times. mostly related to soccer, but some due to his personal life. more specifically, the media loves to take a guess on who he’s dating.

yeah, he’s had more than his fair share of dating rumours. if it were up to the media, sae would have had about thirty-four girlfriends by now and he’s only twenty-six this year. (go fish!)

but as many people do, almost everyone who consumes media content about sae is particularly interested in one thing that is shrouded in mystery: his dating life.

because despite all the rumours and whatnot, there’s never been any confirmation of any relationships at all. and no one in his circle has ever coughed anything up, so anything in that regard has been strictly hush-hush.

well, until tonight, when your boyfriend of six months invited you to one of his teammates’ high-profile birthday party.

“what, are you nervous?”

your boyfriend’s ever unbothered tone is still the same as when you first heard it a year ago. somehow you find it funny that one year later you’re living with the same guy you’d first found to be somewhat intolerable.

sighing, you try and zip up the back of your dress, looking into the mirror, making sure you have your best face on. “sae, you have fans that number in the millions, of course i’m nervous,” you comment, watching from the reflection in the mirror as sae saunters over to you, taking his hands out of his pocket.

he smirks at you through the mirror, his body pressed against you as he helps you zip your dress the rest of the way up, his lips right next to your ear. “i’ve never even seen you this nervous in front of me,” he says, poking a little fun at you as he gives you a light kiss on your temple.

a soft chuckle comes from him as you deadpan, obviously in much more distress than he’ll ever know. not that he’ll blame you; he’s used to the fame, you’re not. “relax, they’ll love you.”

“sae, they won’t.”

he shrugs. “yeah, you’re probably right,” he agrees, earning a small slap on the arm—and he’s laughing again, though this time he tilts your chin up and gives you a long, slow kiss. the kind that takes your breath away everytime he does it. “but who cares? i love you.”

and there he goes, saying that as if it’s no big deal. making your heart beat so quickly it’s not funny. and before you know it, he’s whisking you away into the lobby where a personal towncar is ready and waiting, with the chauffeur and everything.

“geez, oliver sure loves to go over the top, huh?”

sae gives a sharp exhale at your comment. “hey, that’s your friend right there.”

you roll your eyes, getting in first and sticking your tongue out at him. “and you should be thanking him, without him we’d never have met.”

you look away from him right after saying that so you don’t see it, but sae’s smiling to himself, already thanking his lucky stars.

he thinks meeting you and getting to love you is the luckiest he’ll ever get in this lifetime.

by the time you’ve arrived at the venue—a hotel in the heart of the city—swarms of paparazzi already litter the streets outside. they’ve no doubt had their fill of the other soccer players and mega celebrities that have already arrived and are now ready for the real star of the night (aside from the birthday boy himself): itoshi sae.

of course, everyone’s expecting to see sae all by himself because that’s what usually happens; sae attending any and every event alone and unbothered by the scene. it’s never a surprise anymore, but sae’s a good payday and they’d never miss a single shot.

the moment sae exits the car, it sounds like there’s a million shutters pressed all at the same time, give or take a few milliseconds. (it’s nothing you’re used to.) he stands right where he got out for a few seconds, and even inside you can hear the amount of photographers just begging sae to look straight at them.

and if you think that’s rowdy enough, oh boy you’re in for a treat. because the moment the paparazzi realise that sae’s not, in fact, headed for the hotel just yet, you can hear just a few confused noises before it turns into even more pleading the moment they realise he’s opening your side of the door.

when he opens it and holds his hand out for you, that ever handsome smile on his face (which you forget that he only ever shows to you), you feel like you’re nearly blinded by all the flashes. you brave through it though, taking his hand and getting out of the town car, being greeted by the mass of photographers yelling out to you and sae.

“sae, who is that!”

“hey, girl! look over here! yes right there!”

“what’s your relationship?”

“obviously that’s his girlfriend! hey you!”

you’re a little wide-eyed, stunned at how chaotic this scene is. it’s easy to lose yourself in it, but as it always is, sae realises it whenever you are, and he’s quick to pull you back in.

in this case, he pulls you into his arms, a hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you close as he rests his forehead against yours.

“hey, focus on me, just me,” he whispers to you, eyes looking into yours, eyelashes fluttering against one another’s.

(the paparazzi are having a field day.)

“you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” you ask him, chuckling because you only now realise what a fucking tease he is.

sae shrugs, pulling your hair away from your face. (he’s actually just really grateful to you for doing this for him when you don’t need to—when you’re happy to just be able to support him behind the scenes but he really just wants the world to know that you exist, because it’s a blessing, really.) “maybe i am.”

and this time your heart’s beating faster than you know it ever could, his teal blue eyes melting into your gaze, lips getting closer and closer to your own, his calloused hand on the back of your neck.

like clockwork, his lips sink into yours, his tongue snaking its way in. (and the crowd goes absolutely wild.) you’re both laughing at the panicked and hurried yells from the photographers, slowly pulling away from each other.

you reach your hand out to wipe your lipstick stain off his lips but he doesn’t let you, winking at you and leaning in to whisper, “let everyone know who i belong to.”

such a fucking tease.

not that you’re opposed, so you let him be, shaking your head and following him as he holds your hand and leads you in.

within the next hour, pictures of you and sae flood the internet. (notifications come flooding into your phone too.)

itoshi sae hard launches new relationship with mystery woman!

soccer world loses another bachelor—everything we know about itoshi sae’s presumed girlfriend

most of them are pictures of your kiss, with a good chunk of it being his lipstick-stained lips.

as you scroll through some of the articles your friends texted to you, you’re probably never going to be used to it. you’re probably going to be anxious over everything you do in public now.

a slight panic bubbles up in your chest, but then sae comes over, pulling you backwards into his embrace, looking over your shoulder at your phone.

“that quick, huh?”

and suddenly it’s like anxiety has never existed. because even if it may not seem like much, a year of knowing itoshi sae has made you feel safer than you ever did, knowing that he’s always there to catch you, to never make you feel alone.

you melt into his embrace, turning your head and giving him a kiss, your lipstick stain still on his lips.

“i fucking love you, itoshi sae.”

his eyes widen a little before they grow soft, arms pulling you even closer. “i love you too, stupid.”

(and while the two of you are getting all lovey-dovey at his party, oliver’s just slightly—a lot—upset that sae upstaged him during his own birthday party.)

“i fucking hate the both of you,” oliver groans.

[smileysuh]

creep

🌙 staring. Mingyu x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “If the roles were reversed - if you were a ghost bound to this apartment forever - you’re saying you wouldn’t watch me get naked every day?” He’s definitely got a point. As your eyes skim Mingyu's perfect form again, that tingle returns between your legs. There’s no reason for him to be as sexy as he is- murders aren’t the only shocking thing this man has under his belt and you can see that now. 

tw/cw. dark content warning, serial killer Mingyu, mention of suicide, touch starved mingyu, switch mingyu, pussy eating, pussy worship, blow job, hand job, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, big dick mingyu, pussy stretching, extreme voyeurism, mentions of non-consensual voyeurism, dirty talk, praise, choking, manhandling, etc… I pet names: (hers) princess. (his) good boy.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 9.1k

🍭 aus. Halloween, ghost!mingyu, serial killer!mingyu, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I really can't explain this one other than saying I tried to make Mingyu redeemable by saying he only killed bad men 👀

Out of all the guy friends you have over, Jeonghan is Mingyu’s favorite. He’s always up to no good, talking shit that Mingyu can listen to for hours, and tonight, he’s brought a Ouija Board, which has spiked Mingyu’s curiosity. 

“Come on, it will be fun,” Jeonghan insists. “I’ve been wanting to do a seance in your apartment since you moved in three months ago.”

You’re not as impressed as Mingyu is about the idea, and neither are your other friends.

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” Seungkwan says for the fifth time since the rag-tag group of friends entered your home. “We said we’d come back here between Halloween parties and drink, we never said anything about contacting the dude that killed himself here.”

Mingyu remembers the day you visited the apartment for the first time, the way the realtor had downplayed what happened here. Times are tough, and the price reduction had enticed you, despite Mingyu’s tragic history. 

“Come on, don’t you guys wanna ask why he did it?” Jeonghan presses.

“He did it because he was a top suspect in a string of murder cases,” Seungkwan fires back. “Case closed.”

Jeonghan scoffs loudly. “But what if he didn’t do it? What if the real serial killer came here, killed him, and made it look like a suicide-”

“Hannie,” you interrupt with a sigh, “what’s with you and your infatuation with murderers?”

“Me?!” Jeonghan’s eyes widen. “Who’s the one who watches all my slasher films with me? Don’t pretend you're innocent here, we all know you have a thing for bad boys.”

Mingyu’s noticed your love for dangerous men, you’ve had your share of bad dudes over to this very apartment much to his annoyance. On the flip side, Mingyu does enjoy a good horror movie night, and you provide more than enough of those, especially this past month.

“We’re doing this,” Jeonghan insists, pulling the board out and setting it on the coffee table. “It’s Halloween. If there’s ever a night for this ghost to talk with us, it’s now.”

Seungkwan only groans, taking another shot while Seokmin and Soonyoung exchange worried glances.

“You don’t think the ghost is going to actually like… talk with us, do you?” the man in the tiger onesie asks, playing with his tail nervously. 

“Well, the veil is thinnest on Halloween… I guess there’s only one way to find out,” Jeonghan grins devilishly. 

Five minutes later, candles are set up and Seokmin is sheepishly turning off the lights before joining everyone by the board. 

Mingyu holds back, watching with interest.

“How do we start?” you ask.

“Imma rizz this ghost,” Jeonghan explains, looking around the room. “Is there a presence here with us?”

In the silence, Mingyu can hear an ambulance a few blocks away. He crosses his arms over his chest, watching.

“Don’t we have to touch the Ouija thing?” Seungkwan asks.

“Right.” Jeonghan reaches out only to have his hand slapped away by his friend.

“Not you,” Seungkwan rolls his eyes. “You’ll rig it.”

Jeonghan sighs. “Fine, I’ll ask the questions, you all touch the planchette.”

It’s almost laughable how reluctant Seokmin is to touch the board, but soon, there are four sets of hands on it while Jeonghan addresses the room again. 

“Come on ghost,” he pleads, “don’t make me look bad, come say hi. If there’s a spirit with us, please move the planchette and tell us.”

Mingyu figures now is as good a time as any to communicate, God knows he’s waited years. With a sigh, Mingyu approaches the board. He crouches down next to you, reaching out. His fingers slip right through the planchette, but when he touches Seokmin, the man shivers.

“You okay?” you ask, looking at your friend.

“It just got really cold,” Seokmin breathes, already turning pale.

Mingyu tries again, this time aiming for Seokmin’s hands. The ghost focuses hard, willing the planchette to move, willing Seokmin’s hands to become his own. 

The small tool begins to shift on the board. 

“Soonyoung, cut it out,” Seungkwan snaps.

“It’s not me!” the tiger insists.

Little by little, the planchette shifts to Yes, and Mingyu lets out a deep breath at the effort it had taken.

“So there is a spirit here with us?” Jeonghan clarifies.

Again, Mingyu moves the planchette, slightly off of Yes then back again, an affirmative.

“I knew it!” Jeonghan practically screams. “Are you the guy who died here?”

Another Yes, and Mingyu’s getting annoyed with the questions already.

“What’s your name?” you ask.

Mingyu’s a little surprised that you’re beginning a line of inquiry, but he’s pleased too. Using Seokmin’s hands, he begins to slowly reveal his name. With each letter, your group reads it out loud.

“M… I… N… G… Y… U… Mingyu?” 

God, Mingyu likes the sound of his name on your lips.

A shift to Yes has the whole room going quiet and Mingyu waits for the next question.

“Okay guys, seriously, who’s doing this?” Seungkwan asks, ever the non-believer. 

“It’s not me!” Seokmin insists, followed by Soonyoung, who even crosses his heart to prove his own innocence.

“Did you really kill those guys?” Jeonghan questions, drawing all eyes.

“You can’t just ask that!” You bat at your friend’s arm.

Mingyu considers his next action, but with a sigh, he reaches for Seokmin’s hands again, using him to push the planchette to Yes. In Mingyu’s eyes, all the men he’d killed deserved it. They’d been predators, and it takes one to know one. Mingyu had simply been the better predator.

“How many people did you kill?”

“Jeonghan,” you say again, harder this time.

“We’re fact-checking!” Jeonghan insists. “If he gives us the wrong number, then someone here is lying.”

Mingyu doesn’t like to be tested like this, but at the same time, he admires the man’s shiftyness. The ghost reaches through Seokmin, pushing the planchette to 5.

Seokmin lets out a gasp, tearing his hands away from the board and leaping to his feet. “Guys, I don’t feel good about this.”

“But it’s just started to get juicy!” Jeonghan tuts. 

“We’re not going to force Seokmin to do this if he doesn’t want to,” you sigh, also removing your hands. “I think this is enough for tonight.”

Jeonghan’s not so easily convinced. “But we just made contact!” 

“It’s almost midnight, I thought you wanted to be at the bar for eleven fifty so your bouncer friend would let you in,” you point out.

“Let me in…” Jeonghan raises a brow. “Aren’t you coming?”

“Honestly?” you sigh. “I’m getting a bit tired.”

“But it’s Halloween!”

“And we’ve already been to one party and just used a Ouija board,” you laugh. “I think I’ve had enough fun.”

“You’re boring!” Jeonghan groans. 

“And you’re crazy!” you retort, heading to turn on the lights. “Say goodbye to your ghost friend, take another shot, and get out of here so I can get some sleep.”

Mingyu likes it when you take charge like this. He stands from the table, coming to join you as you head to the kitchen to get your friends their last shots. He’s always liked sticking close to you, your second ghostly shadow. 

The last tenant had been a guy, and the view had never been very great, but with you around? Mingyu is constantly entertained, in the most perverted ways possible. He’s really enjoying the skimpy outfit you’re wearing, and he can’t wait to watch you take it off. Maybe you’ll have a shower once your friends are gone- you’ll make his night if you do.

“Goodbye,” Seungkwan says loudly, pushing the planchette to the word scrawled in big writing. Mingyu’s not so easily dismissed, but Seokmin lets out a breath of relief as the board is closed and packed up.

You all take one last shot, and Mingyu can practically taste the tequila on his tongue. It’s been forever since he had anything to drink, or eat, or fuck for that matter. 

He misses it every day. 

The ghost hangs back as you hug your friends goodbye, with Jeonghan trying for five minutes to convince you to join the last bar outing. You stay firm, and Mingyu grins to himself when you finally close the door, shutting you in together.

You busy yourself with cleaning up the kitchen, putting the shot glasses and bottles away, then, to Mingyu’s pleasure, you head toward the bathroom. He follows closely, slipping in behind you before you can close the door. As a ghost, Mingyu can walk through walls, but it’s an unpleasant experience, one he avoids when he can.

He watches you turn on the shower, facing the mirror to remove your false eyelashes. You’re so pretty, and when you begin to take off your outfit, Mingyu practically drools. He can stare at your naked body for hours and not get bored, in fact, he has. 

You step into the shower, closing the curtain. Your silhouette is still as beautiful as ever, and Mingyu can feel his cock getting hard as he watches you. Voyeurism is something he’s always enjoyed, even as a human, and now that he’s a ghost, it’s something that makes Mingyu’s undead life go round. 

He palms himself through his jeans, looking for relief but also not wanting to take things too far. Knowing you, he’ll probably get a free show if he waits long enough. Your sex drive rivals even his own, and Mingyu’s nothing if not a good boy who knows how to be patient. 

***

You get out of the shower feeling refreshed. Your blood is still buzzing slightly from the drinks you’ve had, but you feel clear-headed as you wipe the mirror, looking at yourself while you wrap a towel around your naked body.

Your phone dings and you look down at it, reading Jeonghan’s contact name. It’s a text to tell you that your friends have gotten to the bar, and another request for you to join. You can only laugh, setting your phone down just as the clock hits midnight.

There’s movement in the corner of your eye and you turn your head, locking eyes with a tall, dark-haired man standing by the door of your bathroom.

Your heart lurches in your chest, and you immediately grab the closest thing, a hairbrush, hurling it at the man. He doesn’t even try to dodge it, and it hits him square in the chest. His gaze dips down, and he looks completely shocked that you’ve just thrown something at him.

“Get out of my house!” you scream, reaching for the next item-

“Not your expensive moisturizer!” the man yells, holding up both hands and backing up. “How are you going to explain breaking that to Jeonghan?!”

You freeze a little at his words, thoroughly confused. “How- how do you know-” You look down at the bottle of moisturizer that Jeonghan had bought for you last month. “Did Jeonghan put you up to this?!”

“Put the bottle down,” the man says, still holding his hands defensively. 

“You’re some creep in my bathroom!” you retort. “You don’t get to tell me what to do!” You grab your phone next. “I’m calling 911.”

“God, please don’t,” he sighs.

“Start talking!” you insist.

“I’m not Jeonghan’s friend-”

“Then who the fuck are you, and how did you get into my apartment?!” You lift the moisturizer again, ready to throw it at his face.

“Mingyu!” he belts. “I’m Mingyu!”

“Jeonghan definitely put you up to this,” you declare, feeling something like relief. This is just some prank-

“I’m serious,” the handsome man tells you. “I’m Mingyu-”

“You expect me to believe that you’re the ghost of that serial killer who died here years ago?” you scoff.

“Yeah, it was me with the Ouija,” he tries to explain.

“Prove it,” you insist, still not believing him. 

“You want me to tell you something only a ghost would know?” he laughs. “How about this, I know you hide your sex toys in a box under your bed. I know the last few guys you’ve had over couldn’t make you cum so you’d finish yourself off with your vibrator once they left. I know you still say your first boyfriend’s name whenever you cum, for some stupid reason-”

Your heart is thundering in your chest. There’s no way he can know all of that- no one knows all of that-

Why is everything he’s saying sex related?

An unfamiliar feeling washes over your form. It’s something like fear, but there’s an underlying emotion there too- a tingle between your legs. Is this guy really a ghost? Is he your ghost? Has he been watching you since you moved in?!

“Believe me now?” Mingyu asks. He must have seen the way you’ve faltered, moisturizer bottle lowering to your side.

“How-” You swallow thickly. “How are you here?”

“That’s actually a good question,” Mingyu admits, looking down at his form. “This doesn’t usually happen.” 

“The veil is thinnest on Halloween,” you breathe, remembering what Jeonghan had said earlier. “It’s midnight…”

“Sounds right to me.” The ghost nods. 

“How… how long are you going to be visible for?” you ask, eyes dragging across his large body.

“I don’t know… but, when you threw that brush at me, it hit me.” Mingyu steps toward you and you move back, hitting the wall. “Don’t be scared, I just wanna touch you-”

“As if that makes me feel any better!” You’re frozen as his hand reaches out, fingers coming to gently brush your collarbone. You shiver at the cold contact.

“You.. you felt that!” Mingyu’s eyes widen with shock.

“Are you going to kill me?” you ask.

“What?!” He laughs, moving even closer.

“You’re a serial killer, aren’t you?” This is just your luck.

“I only killed men, guys who were predators.”

“Like you.”

“Like me,” he admits. “But… my brutality never came out toward women.”

The ghost has no right being this beautiful, and he’s saying the right things. You can’t believe you’re actually starting to relax a little. You’ve definitely seen too many horror films-

“You… you’ve been watching me,” you point out.

Your words seem to make him almost bashful, his gaze dipping to the floor. You see his skin flush a pinkish colour and it’s almost endearing. “Uh… yeah.”

“And you were in here while I was having a shower too… You are a bit of a creep, aren’t you?”

“Every other tenant here has been a guy!” Mingyu exclaims. “You’re the first one who’s actually caught my attention.”

“I feel like you’re just horny after years of being alone.”

“You would be too,” he insists. “If the roles were reversed - if you were a ghost bound to this apartment forever -  you’re saying you wouldn’t watch me get naked every day?” 

He’s definitely got a point. As your eyes skim Mingyu’s perfect form again, that tingle returns between your legs. There’s no reason for him to be as sexy as he is- murders aren’t the only shocking thing this man has under his belt and you can see that now. 

“Can I…” he swallows thickly. “Can I kiss you?”

You can’t believe you’re actually considering this.

“Come on, please?” Mingyu asks. “I haven’t touched someone in so long, haven’t been touched-” 

A dead serial killer who sort of respects your autonomy and is begging for you? 

“We don’t know how long this is going to last,” he continues. “I need to feel something, need to feel you-” 

“Fucking a ghost wasn’t on my Halloween bingo sheet,” you joke.

“It will be fun,” Mingyu insists. “I know what you like, I know your kinks, I know you, better than all those other guys you’ve fucked so far. Come on, princess, let me make you feel good.” 

It’s kind of creepy that the ghost even knows your preferred pet name, but it sounds so pretty coming from him. 

You weigh the pros and cons. 

Pros: He’s one of the sexiest men you’ve ever seen. He actually wants to make you cum. He already knows your kinks. He might be a touch obsessed with you, which would do wonders for your ego.

Cons: He’s literally a dead serial killer creep who’s been watching you jack off and get fucked for a few months. He could also disappear at any second.

Well, you can’t pass this up, especially since you have no idea how long this will last. And when he’s gone, he’ll stay gone. There are technically no strings, none that you can see at least.

And to top it all off, you’re extremely horny. You’d stayed back from going to the bar with your friends specifically to fuck yourself stupid tonight, and now, you have a ghost willing to get the job done for you.

“Okay, big guy,” you sigh. “Let’s see what you can do.”

Mingyu doesn’t waste a second. He grabs your face, cupping his large hand around the back of your skull to pull your lips to his own. 

You’re a little shocked, but you melt into his embrace quickly, pressing your hands to his beefy chest while his tongue licks at your lip, begging for entry. You open your mouth to him, and he kisses you deeper, letting out a low groan as he shifts you in his embrace, grabbing at your hip to pull you closer.

It’s been years since he’s touched anyone, but he kisses with the best of them. 

It’s almost too easy to get lost in Mingyu, your mind going pleasantly blank as you make out with the ghost. 

You’re eating up the sounds he’s making too. His mouth is eager against your own, all tongue and plump lips. It’s clear that your ghost has been very touch-starved. His hand gropes at your waist, toying with the towel still wrapped around your body. 

You can’t help yourself, you reach a hand between your bodies, cupping his cock through his jeans.

Mingyu pants against your lips, breaking the kiss to look down at where you’re touching him. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good,” he groans, pressing his hips forward for more friction.

He’s literally adorable, and so receptive. 

“You’ll take care of me first though, right?” you toy, squeezing your hand tighter around the large bulge in his pants.

“Yeah,” he swallows thickly, nodding. “Been wanting to taste your pussy for fucking months.”

Your core throbs at his words- he’s got a big dick and he likes oral? Your night just keeps getting better.

“Then you should taste me,” you tell him. “I’m even sweeter than I look.”

Mingyu lets out a deep groan, and then he’s sinking to his knees on the bathroom floor. His mouth finds your calf, and his large hands grab at your leg, adjusting it onto his shoulder while his lips ascend to your thigh. 

You lean back against the wall, trying to catch your breath while the large man gets closer and closer to where you need him most.

He reaches up, grabbing at your towel and tugging. In one motion, you’re naked for him, and the cool air of the bathroom has your skin tingling, nipples pebbling with interest.

Mingyu spreads your legs wider, and you can feel his breath on your pussy. You reach down to tangle your fingers in his hair. He looks up at you, eyes dark with lust, and then he’s diving in. He’s all tongue, the wet muscle pushing into your hole to taste you while he releases an almost animalistic groan of appreciation.

It’s clear this man is a pussy lover, and you can’t believe he’s gone so long without having his mouth on one. You’re more than happy to make up for the lost time, enjoying the feeling of him pressing his face closer to your wet core, tongue lapping at you while he begins to grind his nose against your clit.

He definitely knows how to eat, and you find yourself closing your eyes, enjoying the feeling building in the pit of your stomach. His hands are on your hips, but one trails up, grasping for your breast. The added stimulation of his thumb and pointer pinching your nipple has you crying out, hips rutting toward his face.

He just feels so good- and when his lips move to suction around your clit, your thigh quakes on his shoulder. “Fuck-” you moan loudly, shocked that it’s been this easy for him to get you to the cusp of an orgasm. 

Most men don’t know how to handle you, but it’s clear that he does. 

You can feel yourself practically dripping, and you’re not sure if it’s pussy juice or the ghost’s drool, but you don’t really care. It’s sinful and sexy and dirty- exactly what Halloween should be. 

Mingyu lets go of your breast, adjusting his hand- two fingers slide into your core while his mouth continues on your clit, and you swear this purgatory-bound sinner has just taken you to heaven. 

You’re a mewling mess now, moans and gasps leaving you uncensored while his thick fingers stretch out your core, pushing in and out while his tongue flicks at your most sensitive spot.

“I’m gonna cum,” you tell him, eyes clenched shut as the knot in your stomach is pulled tighter and tighter-

The man between your legs groans in response, driving his fingers into you faster and harder, his mouth making lewd sucking sounds around your clit. 

It’s everything you need to reach your high and you gasp loudly, tangling your fingers in his hair while your orgasm washes over you. Your hips buck against his face, only for his free hand to pin you to the wall, his motions never ceasing while you cry out, your core throbbing around his fingers.

No one has ever eaten you out this good. Your mind is practically blank, body completely overwhelmed with the pleasure surging through you. 

It’s almost too much for you to handle, and you find yourself tugging at Mingyu’s hair, trying to pull him away-

He won’t budge, growling heavily against your core. The vibration makes your legs twitch, and you’re not sure you’ll even be able to stand if he keeps this up-

Finally, Mingyu pulls away. He’s panting hard. His fingers slip out of your pussy only for him to place them in his mouth, sucking them clean while he groans lewdly. “Fuck,” he mumbles, looking up at you with stars in his eyes. “That was so good.”

You can’t even speak yet, too breathless from the mind-numbing orgasm to even think. 

Mingyu stands up, and you have to tilt your head to retain eye contact. God, why’s he so big and fuckable?

“Look at you, princess. You usually have good comebacks.” He leans forward, breath hot against your face. “Ghost got your tongue?”

You can’t help but laugh slightly, and Mingyu grins down at you. Then he’s cupping your cheek again, bringing his lips to yours. You can taste yourself as he kisses you deeply, but you don’t even care. You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, pressing your boobs against his chest.

You need to be closer to him. Need to feel him, fully.

Mingyu reaches down, grabbing your ass and lifting you off the ground. Your legs wrap around his hips and the ghost carries you through the apartment, gently setting you onto your bed.

He towers over your now and your pussy throbs at the idea of how well he’s about to wreck you.

“You still want me, right?” he asks. “I’ll be good for you, I promise.”

You nod, licking your lips. “I know you will.”

“I’m a good boy,” Mingyu says quietly, eyes dipping down to your core.

“Then be a good boy and take off your shirt, I want to see you.”

He’s quick to comply, tearing off the black fabric to reveal his muscular chest. Your pussy throbs at the sight alone. His arms are huge, biceps bulging deliciously, and his pecs look downright biteable. Then there are his abs-

You sit up, trying to contain yourself. “Pants next.”

“Fuck, princess,” Mingyu groans, already working on his belt. “Has anyone ever told you how fucking perfect you are?”

“You’d know if they had, wouldn’t you, Ghost?” 

“These fucking dudes you have over,” Mingyu clicks his tongue, “none of them have known how to treat you right.”

“But you do?”

“Of course!” he scoffs, pushing his pants and underwear down, revealing the biggest cock you’ve ever seen. “Name one other guy who’s eaten your pussy like I have.”

He knows you too well.

“I should return the favour,” you suggest. 

“Fuck, I’d die all over again if you did.”

You get onto your knees, shuffling closer. You kiss him first, cupping his cheek with one hand while the other moves down to his cock, stroking him gently while he whines against your lips. He ruts his hips, forcing more friction while you grin into the kiss. 

“Needy Ghost,” you laugh.

“Need you so fucking bad,” he agrees. 

“Then I shouldn’t keep you waiting, should I?” 

“Please, don’t.”

You begin to kiss down his neck, taking your time as you trail your mouth across his body. You appreciate every centimeter, all the way down his pretty chest and abs. You trace your tongue along his hip bone and the ghost shivers, letting out a shuddery breath. “Holy shit.” 

“You’ll be nice and praise me while I have my mouth full, won’t you, handsome?” You sneak a glance up at him as you take him in your hand, adjusting his cock. 

“Yeah-” He swallows thickly. “I know how much my princess loves being told she’s a good girl.”

“Am I your good girl?” 

“So fucking good,” he nods eagerly. “So fucking good for me I can’t even believe it.”

You smile to yourself, pressing a chaste kiss to the head of his leaking cock that has the Ghost practically whimpering. 

“Fuck, can I- can I grab your hair?”

“Uh huh,” you lick a stripe along the head of his cock, circling it with your tongue while the gorgeous man shivers at the contact. 

“Please don’t tease me,” he begs, grabbing a fistful of your hair. “I don’t- don’t know how much time I have with you, and I’ll die if we spend the whole time teasing and I don’t even get to feel your perfect fucking pussy-”

You wrap your mouth around his cock, agreeing with what he’s saying, and it earns an immediate moan of appreciation from the man towering over you.

“Fuck, princess, you feel so good- you feel so fucking good-”

You swirl your tongue around his length, running it along the crease between the head and shaft. Mingyu’s grip tightens in your hair as more breathy moans spill from his lips. 

He’s much too big to fit in your mouth, so you pump what you can’t reach, using your saliva as lube to make stroking easier while you suck on him. Your eyes are closed, mind focused on pleasuring him the way he’d just pleasured you in the bathroom.

It feels good to be giving something back to him, especially as praises and words of encouragement fill the room. “Just like that, just like that, holy shit-”

You take him as deep as you can go, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat, which constricts around him.

“Oh my god-” he practically whimpers, fingers flexing in your hair. “Please let me fuck your face, please, I want it so bad-”

You make a sound of affirmation and that’s all it takes for Mingyu to release a low groan, pushing his hips forward. He hits the back of your throat again and you do your best to clear your mind, focusing on anything but the gagging sensation as he begins to use your mouth for his own pleasure.

“Holy shit, good girl, good fucking girl-” he moans, quickening his pace. His grip on your head keeps you where he wants you, and it’s clear he’s being cognizant of not making you gag too hard. He seems to know your boundary, know just what to do without making it too much.

“Fuck, it’s too good- you’re too fucking good at this, princess,” Mingyu pants. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum but I promise I’ll still fuck you, I promise my recharge time is quick-”

You suction your cheeks harder around him and Mingyu practically cries out, grip tightening in your hair so hard it almost hurts. He’s a garbled mess of swear words now, and a few thrusts later he’s cumming down your throat, releasing the prettiest moan you’ve ever heard while his hips shudder with effort.

“Holy shit, good girl, good girl-” he groans, motions slowing as he cums rope after rope- “Taking me so fucking well, oh my god-” 

Mingyu pulls out of your mouth, breathing hard. He looks down at you while you also take a few deep breaths. 

It’s the oddest thing. His cum hadn’t tasted like anything. There was no salt or musk- it was just… different. You suppose he’s a ghost, so that could account for the lack of flavour, and you almost prefer it that way. 

“That was so good,” Mingyu tells you. “You’re good, right?” 

You nod, pulling away from him to fall back against the bed again. “I’m perfect.”

“Yeah, you are,” the ghost laughs. 

“So are you going to make me cum again, or…?” you cock your head to the side, assessing him.

He’s still trying to catch his breath, cheeks all flushed, hair a tangle of dark curls. He looks beautiful.

“Fuck, yeah,” Mingyu grins, and the smile lights up his whole face. “I know you probably want two or three more, you’re insatiable like that, aren’t you, princess?”

“I guess it takes one to know one,” you laugh. “I bet you usually cum two or more times watching me, don’t you, Ghost boy?”

“Guilty.” He runs his fingers through his wild hair. “But my hand is nothing compared to you.”

“Funny, my hand is nothing compared to you either.”

“Match made in heaven,” Mingyu muses, getting onto the bed to join you while you wrap your arms around his shoulders, tugging him in for another breathtaking kiss.

He slots so well between your legs, one hand pressed to the bed while the other comes up to massage your breast. You moan against his lips, arching your back, wanting more. His thumb brushes over your nipple and then he’s pinching it, making you cry out.

“You like a little pain, don’t you, princess?” he grins, looking down at you.

“A little,” you admit.

“You know…” his hand moves up from your breast, teasing over your collarbone, “sometimes, when you’re trying to make yourself cum, and you choke yourself- it’s one of the sexiest things I’ve ever fucking seen.”

“Oh yeah?” You grab his hand, guiding it to your throat. 

In the back of your mind, you remember that this hot ghost is also a killer- but his hands are shockingly soft and gentle as he squeezes your neck. 

“Fuck, you look gorgeous,” he groans.

“Tighter,” you tell him, stroking his forearm while the muscles move beneath the skin, his hand pressing harder onto your airway.

You let out a small whimper, closing your eyes and enjoying the lightheaded feeling. 

“Ready for my fingers again?” he asks.

“Want your cock.”

“Fingers first,” he insists, letting go of your throat so he can trail his hand down your body until he’s cupping your pussy. You buck against his hand and he grins. “So eager.”

“Be a good boy and make princess cum again,” you tell him.

It’s an interesting kink for him to have - the whole good boy angle -  you would have thought a man like him would be a full dom, but you kind of enjoy this switchy side. It allows you to tell him what to do, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy holding a lot of the power in this interaction.

Two of his fingers slip into your core and you both groan at the feeling. “Still so fucking wet,” the ghost muses. “Did sucking me off turn you on that much?”

“I like the sounds you make,” you admit, rocking your hips against his hand while he palms your clit.

“Yeah?” His grin widens. 

“You’re my perfect puppy,” you sigh happily as he finger fucks you even harder. 

Mingyu reacts to the new petname with a low groan and you thread your fingers through his hair, tugging his lips to your own. You love the way his tongue invades your mouth, teasing and tasting but not dominating. 

His fingers continue to stretch you out, his palm a constant pressure on your clit. You can’t fucking wait to take his cock, and it’s just one orgasm away. 

You break the kiss to move your mouth to his neck, loving the whimpery sounds of appreciation that leave him as you begin sucking on his skin. There’s no reason not to leave marks, so you go as hard as you want, teasing your teeth over his jugular while it bounces with effort.

“Fuck, fuck-” Mingyu groans loudly, clearly enjoying the attention being paid to his pretty throat.

You can feel your core beginning to throb, your pussy tightening as another orgasm approaches, doing its best to keep Mingyu’s fingers buried knuckle deep even as he drives them into you rougher and rougher.

“Are you gonna cum again?” Mingyu asks, breathless. “Please tell me you’re gonna cum again.”

You can feel his cock, hard and pressed to your leg, leaking from how turned on he is while he finger fucks you and you kiss his throat. He’s so easy to make come undone. It boosts your ego like nothing else, and your pussy pulses with desire.

“I’m close,” you tell him, licking at his throat and making your way to his ear. “Be a good boy and make me cum.”

Mingyu groans loudly, and then he’s suddenly pulling away from you, moving down the bed to get between your legs again. His fingers don’t stop inside of you, but his free hand pushes your thigh up, giving him more space as he brings his lips to your clit.

“Holy shit-” you groan, threading your fingers through his hair and letting your head loll back against the pillows. You hadn’t thought you’d get his mouth on you like this again- but you suppose you had commanded him to make you cum, and this position is a tried and true winner. 

You can’t even tell him you’re about to cum, he simply tears it out of you. Your back arches off the bed, a sinful whine escaping your lips while your thighs quiver, pussy clamping down on his fingers, your clit throbbing desperately. Mingyu lets out a growl, slurping hard at the sensitive bud, and it brings tears to your eyes at how good it feels.

You feel like you’re the ghost now, your soul practically leaving your body while Mingyu works you through another one of the most intense orgasms of your entire life.

When he finally pulls away from your core, you can’t even open your eyes. You can only lay there, trying to catch your breath while the bed dips under his weight. You feel his hands digging into the pillows on either side of your head, and then something brushes by your nose.

You open your eyes to find Mingyu staring down at you, gently rubbing the tip of his nose against your own. “You good, princess?”

“I’m perfect,” you tell him, wrapping your legs around his hips to pull him closer.

You catch his cock between your bodies and a moan leaves you at how big he feels. 

“Ready for more?” he asks.

You can only nod, grabbing at his shoulders to drag him into a kiss. It’s almost relaxing to take a minute to just kiss him, mind blank, body still tingling in the aftershocks of your orgasm.

Then Mingyu begins to rut his hips, dragging his cock through your pussy lips and making you groan when he bumps your clit.

You’re the one who reaches between your bodies, grabbing his dick to line it up with your core.

Mingyu watches you carefully and you give him a small nod. “Do it,” you tell him. “Fuck me stupid.”

He only laughs, pressing his lips to yours as he pushes into you. Your pussy swallows him inch by inch, with you clawing at his shoulders when he’s finally all the way in. 

You’ve never felt anything like Mingyu- he stretches you out in a way that most men can only dream of. You feel small, fragile, needy- almost like a virgin again, and the way he’s kissing you eagerly definitely brings back memories of first times. 

He begins to thrust gently, allowing your body time to adjust to his massive size. You’re a little shocked at how easy the glide of it is, but you suppose you’re wetter than you’ve ever been after having cum so hard twice. It feels absolutely all-consuming. His cock is practically all you can think about as you tangle your fingers in his hair and kiss him deeper.

Mingyu is groaning into your mouth, and the sounds fuel your entire body with even more lust. You trail one hand down his back, enjoying the way it makes him shiver. 

“Do I feel good, Gyu?” you ask.

“You feel perfect,” he tells you, burying his face against your throat. His mouth is hot as he leaves wet kisses there, his hips moving even faster. “So fucking good. Better than I ever imagined.”

“You’ve imagined me a lot, haven’t you, big guy?”

“So many times-” he admits. “Never thought… never thought I’d actually get to fuck you like this.”

“Just wait till you make me cum while buried inside of me,” you grin, tilting your head so he can press fevered kisses to your jaw while groaning loudly. 

“Fuck-” One of his hands moves to your hip, keeping you pinned. He’s fucking you so hard now that the bed is rocking, but you can’t bring yourself to care about neighbors. “Wait, flip around for me, I know you go wild for doggy.”

God, it’s so easy with him. 

He has you on your knees in seconds, large hands cupping your hips to adjust your ass higher as he slips back inside of you. This new position makes him feel even bigger, if that’s possible, and it makes your toes curl. 

With each hard snap of his hips, your ass slaps back against his front. The sound of skin on skin mixed with his moans is doing something crazy to you- you’re completely consumed by him. There’s not a thought in your head other than “Yes, yes, yes! Fuck, harder Gyu, harder!”

He’s more than willing to comply, railing you like you’ve never been railed before.

You can feel fluids beginning to drip down your legs, that’s how wet you are. Stroke game has never been this easy.

Then he reaches around your front, leaning over your back so he can access your clit. You cry out from the stimulation, core clenching deliciously around the large intrusion. “Holy shit-” you whimper.

“Can you cum for me again, princess?” Mingyu asks, breath hot against your shoulders. 

“Are you close?” you gasp, feeling another orgasm building achingly fast.

“Yeah, but I want at least one more out of you,” the ghost says. “It’s Halloween, you deserve it.”

“I deserve it?” you nearly laugh, but the giggle is quick to turn into a moan as he applies more pressure to your clit.

“Yeah, of course you deserve it. You’re being so good for me, so fucking good-”

The praise goes straight to your pussy and you tangle your hands in the sheets. “Gyu-”

“That’s it, please, princess, wanna feel you cum.” He digs his fingers into your hip, drawing consistent circles on your clit. He knows exactly what to do to make you feel good, and you wonder how many times he’s watched you make yourself cum like this.

“That’s it,” Mingyu groans. “Fuck you feel amazing. Come on, cum for me. Come on, pretty girl.”

Your body twitches and you let out a gasp, tensing before your release hits you straight on. Your eyes clench shut as your pussy clamps down on his cock, a strangled moan escaping you as pleasure surges through you. Your mind practically short circuits, your brain blank except for the pure ecstasy he’s providing. 

Mingyu lets out a loud groan, panting harder as he fucks you through your high. He pulls his hand away from your clit in favour of grabbing your hips again, pushing his entire cock into your aching hole over and over again.

“Just like that, just like that-” he tells you. “Fuck, you’re literally dripping, holy shit-”

You don’t even care that your bed sheets are going to be ruined after this- all you care about is the man behind you fucking you like it’s his last night on earth. To be fair, it just might be.

“Good princess,” Mingyu breathes. “So good for me.”

“Gyu-” you whimper trying to push yourself up onto your hands. You rut your hips back to meet his thrusts and he lets out another guttural moan of appreciation. “I wanna ride you till you cum.”

You think he deserves it. 

In fact, you know he deserves it.

This man has made you cum three times already, and you’ll be damned if you don’t try to return the favor. 

“You wanna ride me?” Mingyu stops with his cock fully inside of you, and his hand smooths down your back. “Really?”

“Uh huh,” you nod, pushing back against him in an attempt to get him even deeper. “Bet you miss being ridden, don’t you, big guy?”

He lets out a groan, and then he’s removing his cock from your core, practically pouncing onto the bed next to you. He grabs your hips, helping you straddle him. While you reach between your bodies to grab his cock and line it up with your core, he slips a hand around the back of your skull, pulling your lips down to meet yours.

The ghost is grinning into the kiss and it’s almost laughable how excited he is. 

You sink down onto his length and you both release loud moans into each other’s mouths. 

It feels so good to be filled up like this. You begin by grinding against him, adjusting to his size. You can feel him so deep, all the way in the pit of your stomach.

He grabs at your thighs then your boobs, and you can tell he’s having difficulty deciding which parts of you he wants to worship. Then he takes a fistful of your ass, squeezing rough enough to have you whimpering while his tongue invades your mouth.

You begin to ride him, bracing your hands against his chest.

Mingyu is just so big- the sexiest man you’ve ever fucked and there’s no contest in that.

He’s so good at kissing too, moaning into it while you pick up the speed of your thrusts. 

He grabs your hips, helping you bounce up and down. Each movement fills you up deliciously, your drenched core swallowing him up like you were made for this.

You pull away from his lips, straightening while you ride him. Mingyu takes the opportunity to grab your breasts, kneading them in his hands while his thumbs tease your nipples. You cover his hand with one of your own, urging him to squeeze harder. 

“Fuck, you’re so fucking pretty,” Mingyu groans, hips thrusting up to meet you.

His cock is hitting even deeper now, and you swear no one has ever been this deep inside of you before. There’s literally nothing in the world like Mingyu… or his cock. 

“Look at you taking all of me,” he continues, cheeks flushed pink, breath hot. “I always knew you’d be able to- always knew you’d be a fucking champ in bed.”

You want to tell him he’s one to talk, but it seems the ghost has got your tongue again. All you can do is moan lewdly, riding him harder and ignoring the burn of your thighs.

Mingyu sits up, leaning forward to take your breast into his mouth. His tongue flicks by your nipple and you cry out, tangling your fingers in his hair to hold him to your chest. He groans deeply as you pull on his hair, teeth grazing the sensitive bud caught between his lips.

“Holy shit,” you whimper, core clenching tight around his cock.

The ghost pants loudly, giving your breast one last kiss before he flops down onto his back again. “You close?” he asks, reaching out so his thumb can find your clit, rubbing it.

“Fuck, yeah- if you keep doing that, yeah, I’m close-” you nod, clawing at his chest.

“I need you to cum with me,” Mingyu tells you. “Want us to cum together.”

“Me too, me too-” you assure him, closing your eyes to focus on the feeling of his cock filling you up perfectly while his thumb works harder on your clit.

“Want you on top,” the ghost continues, “but I want to take over. Can you rub yourself for me?”

“Yeah.” You swallow thickly, leaning over him so you can press your lips to his own. Your hand sneaks between your legs, and you hover over him, thrusts coming to a stop while he gets a grip on your hips.

His tongue battles your own as he begins to piston up into you- God, it feels even better when he’s the one fucking you from below. All you have to do is hold yourself over him with one shaky arm while your fingers work on your clit, dragging you closer and closer to the edge again.

“Oh my god-” you mumble against his mouth, and it only makes him smile, rutting up into you even faster. 

“I can’t-” he breaks the kiss to burry his face against your throat, “I can’t hold off much longer, please tell me you’re gonna cum with me, please-”

“I will!” you whine. “I’m so close-”

His mouth is hot against your neck and he sucks on your sweet spot, making you cry out. He groans loudly at the way your core tightens around his massive cock. Then he’s pulling away from your throat, wrapping a hand around it instead.

“Look at me,” he instructs. “Want to watch you cum.”

You force your eyes open, gasping as he tightens his grip on your neck. You’re so fucking close you can almost taste it. 

His other arm adjusts, palm snaking up your back as he fucks up into you wildly.

“Can I give you a countdown?” he asks.

You nod enthusiastically. He’s choking you too hard to answer. Your blood is rushing to your head and your pussy, body practically on fire-

“Three-” he moans loudly, staring up at you with dark eyes. “Two-” a small grunt leaves his lips, fingers digging into your back. “One! Cum with me- please, fuck, cum with me!” 

You let out a gasp, all the tension in your body snapping like the cord in your stomach. Pleasure washes over you, and it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt. It’s better than the first three orgasms if that’s even possible, and if it weren’t for the tight grip on your neck cutting off most of your sounds, you’re sure you’d be screaming.

Mingyu’s deep groans are only making you more turned on as your core throbs around his cock. He’s still fucking you, but soon the pleasure seems to be even too much for him. He drags you fully against his chest, burying himself completely in your pussy while he fills you up with his cum. 

He releases your throat in favor of smashing his lips against your own, tongue running against your teeth while he groans loudly. You whimper into the kiss, pussy still pulsing around him.

This has to be one of the longest orgasms you’ve ever had- and with his massive cock still buried inside of you, your pussy gets practically no reprieve. All you can do is gasp and whimper against his lips while your body struggles to process the insane amount of pleasure that’s still coursing through you.

Mingyu lets out a laugh, resting down against the pillows and looking up at you. “Was that good?” he asks. 

You can only shake your head at him, letting out a small chuckle as the last of your orgasm wafts through you like a warm summer breeze. 

“Yeah,” his hand smooths up and down your back, “it was good for me too.”

“You literally just ruined me for anyone else.”

“That was the goal, princess.” He grins.

“You’re so bad.”

“Obviously you have a thing for bad boys.”

“And ghosts, apparently.” You’re still coming to terms with what you’ve just done. Part of you wonders if this is just some crazy dream.

“Just me though, right?” He kisses you gently and it leaves you wanting more.

“For now, but if I meet another ghost with a huge cock, maybe that will change,” you tease.

Mingyu sighs, shaking his head at you. “We should probably get you cleaned up, then… can we cuddle? I’m still not sure how long you’ll be able to see me, and… I think ending the night holding you would be nice.”

A ghost who loves eating pussy, made you cum four times, has a massive cock, and wants to spoil you with some aftercare-

You’re for sure ruined for any other guy you meet and you know it. 

It sucks to have to get off of Mingyu’s dick, and your legs hurt, but he helps you to the bathroom with a shit-eating grin. “Never seen you walk like this after being fucked,” he muses.

“No one’s fucked me like you just did and you know it,” you laugh. 

He gives you a bit of privacy while you pee and get all the cum off of you, but he joins you when you begin to brush your teeth. Mingyu stands behind you, hands finding your hips, eyes locked on yours through the mirror. 

“Tomorrow, when you get ready for bed, imagine me right here,” he tells you, leaning down to press a kiss to your bare shoulder. 

“Yeah?” You press your ass back against him. “Is this usually where you stand while I brush my teeth?”

“Uh huh.” His hands move from your hips to grab onto your tits, squeezing them. “Gonna miss being able to touch you.”

You frown a little at his words, spitting into the sink before turning in his arms. “I’m gonna miss you too, Gyu.”

“Really?” He grins. “So no more fucking randoms?”

You laugh. “Do you expect me to wait a whole nother year just to get railed again?”

“I guess that does sound impossible,” Mingyu sighs. “Just know that any guy you do bring over… I’ll be watching.”

“And judging, I bet.” He’s so obsessed with you that it hurts. 

“Always.”

“What are you going to do?” you ask. “Waiting for a whole year before you can fuck me again?”

“You know what I’m going to do,” he grins. “Every time you touch yourself, I’ll be touching myself too.”

God, this is going to take masturbation to a whole new level.

“Do you…” you swallow. “If I got Jeonghan’s ouija board, do you think you could communicate with me through it? I mean… you’ve never thrown books around or done anything like this before so-”

“Maybe,” Mingyu cocks his head to the side. “I kind of had to use Seokmin’s hands as my own tonight, but, I could try it with just you. But you can’t expect to ask a question and have the wooden thing move to an answer on its own.” 

“Okay, noted.” You let out a sigh. “Now come to bed with me, puppy. I need a good cuddle.”

He lets you take his hand, guiding him back to your room where he joins you under your duvet. 

Mingyu is quick to adjust you as his little spoon, pulling you tight to his chest. One arm is secured under your head as a mock pillow, and the other hand cups your breast. His breath is hot against your neck.

“Would it be too soon to say I love you?” he asks suddenly.

You can only laugh. You’ve just met him tonight, but you suppose he’s been watching you for months at this point. You can only imagine how much he’s pined for you by this point. 

“You can say it, but I can’t return the sentiment, not now at least,” you admit.

“That’s okay, Ghost romances are usually one-sided anyways, or so I would imagine.” 

You can only laugh, enjoying the feeling of his body wrapped around yours.

“You won’t be here in the morning,” you muse sadly.

“I mean, I’ll be here, but you won’t be able to see me.”

“Do ghosts sleep?” you ask.

“Yeah.”

“Where do you usually sleep?”

“On the couch.”

“Well, from now on, I give you permission to sleep here with me.”

“Really?” He squeezes your breast.

“Of course. This is going to sound crazy, but… I can even say goodnight to you, although you won’t be able to say it back.”

“I’ll say it back,” Mingyu assures you. “You’ll just have to imagine it.”

“I can do that.”

“Gonna have to imagine a lot of things.” 

You know that a relationship with a ghost isn’t a long-term plan. You know that things can’t really go anywhere with him- but at the same time, there’s almost a peace that comes with having your very own personal spirit who’s in love with you and restricted to your apartment.

“You’re tired, aren’t you, pretty girl?” His breath is comforting against the nape of your neck.

“Exhausted.”

“Then you should get some sleep.”

“You don’t want me to stay up? Don’t want to enjoy every second we have together?” 

“I always enjoy every second we have together,” he laughs. “Something tells me this touching thing isn’t going to last much longer, and I want you to fall asleep in my arms, even if it’s only once.”

“Goodnight, Mingyu.”

“Goodnight, princess.” He presses a kiss to your shoulder. “I love you.”

It’s the last words you hear from him as you drift off to sleep, your body succumbing to the exhaustion of four orgasms. 

When you wake up the next morning, your bed is empty, but you know you’re not alone.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I hope I didn't scare anyone off with the serial killer tag, can we all agree this is a soft boy? "what about the people he murdered?" "what murder???"

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🔮 preview. It has to be close to midnight now- it has to be- “I need you now,” you whine, moving your hand from your clit to grab the sheets. “We’ve both been so good this year, this is so unfair-” You’re horny, but you’re sad too, frustrated, desperate, annoyed- There’s no way you can make yourself cum while up in your head like this and you know it. Letting out a groan of defeat, you tear your hand from between your legs- only for it to be caught in a vice grip. Your eyes flash open, heart thundering in your ribcage. Mingyu is kneeling at the foot of the bed, and you watch as he brings your wet fingers to his mouth, licking them clean and letting out an absolutely guttural groan.

cw/ tw. masturbation, oral (f receiving), multiple reader orgasms, unprotected sex, praise, dirty talk, cock warming, bulge kink, deep kink, serial killer/ghost Mingyu, switch Mingyu, hand job, big dick Mingyu, fingering, mentions of suicide, recording sex with a phone, boob worship, etc… I pet names: (hers) princess, good girl. (his) good boy.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.9k I teaser wc. 200

🌙 staring. Mingyu x afab!Reader

bonus

Part of you wishes you’d never told Jeonghan about Mingyu because your friend has become absolutely obsessed with communicating with your apartment ghost. In the year since you last saw Mingyu, there hasn’t been one hangout at your place that didn’t include Jeonghan whipping out the Ouija board.

“We should do another shot,” Jeonghan tells you, sitting on the couch and toying with the planchette.

“It’s almost midnight, I really think you should be heading home,” you sigh. Seokmin, Soonyoung and Seungkwan have the decency to have left half an hour ago, but they’ve never been that excited about your ghost adventures.

“You won’t even let me meet the guy?” Jeonghan whines. “Come on, let's ask Mingyu if he wants to meet me!”

He places the planchette on the board, and it immediately moves to Yes. Sometimes you think Jeonghan’s moving it himself, using your ghost roommate to further his own wants and needs. 

“I’m pretty sure Mingyu will want to spend the full-time slot with me alone,” you insist. 

The planchette moves to No and you roll your eyes while Jeonghan grins at you.

“Give me that!” You take the wooden tool from his hands, setting it on the board. “Mingyu, do you want Jeonghan to leave?”

You feel the familiar cold tingle in your hands, and without adding any pressure yourself, the planchette moves to the word Yes. 

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[art]

Creator Spotlight: @themetalhiro

Hi, I’m Metal! I’m a freelance artist from good ol’ New Jersey. My favorite things to work with are a lot of bright colors, exaggerated poses, and candid scenarios. I try to farm sensible chuckles whenever I can, so I’m also big into comics. I love making them about my life, and the media I’m into, and one day I’d like to publish my own series!  Thank you to everyone who has gotten me this far!!

Check out Metal's interview below!

Did you originally have a background in art? If not, how did you start?

I guess so! It’s funny, I don’t remember a single time in my life that I wasn’t drawing as a hobby… somewhere in middle school (a little late, I know.) I put the pieces together that animated movies were made by artists, and that it wasn’t just for fun, they were paid to do it. The moment I discovered people could be paid to make art, I decided I would do that, too. Now I’m here!

How has your style developed over the years?

I think the best way to answer this would be with an example! Over the last few years, I have made more of an effort to draw more intentionally, which sounds silly. Now, I put more thought into my poses and step out of my comfort zone with shape language and composition. I had a phase where I drew everyone with a huge, perfectly circular head and no nose. That definitely did not lend much variety...

Which 3 famous artists (dead or alive) would you invite to your dinner party?

Ack! I’m so terrible at history! I’d love to give a well-thought-out answer about fine artists of old, but I don't think we’d have much in common… Most artists I admire and who have driven me forward creatively are the people behind comics I’ve read. Andrew Hussie, Bryan Lee O’Malley, Eiichiro Oda... these guys have inspired me greatly and had a heavy influence in developing my art style and sense of humor. I’d love to ask them questions about their processes and upcoming projects. I think it would make for an entertaining night!

Over the years as an artist, what were your biggest inspirations behind your creativity?

Outside of pure aesthetics like searing bright colors, layered clothing, and loud noises…. the best and most inspiring moments in my life were those surrounded by friends and loved ones! I cherish the hell out of memories of hanging around in fun locations, trying weird food together, and impromptu midnight walks... so I try my best to capture that atmosphere and my own memories in my work when I can, even if I’m imposing fictional characters on top of them. That’s always the core of it.

What is a medium that you have always been intrigued by but would never use yourself?

I would never permanently refuse a medium, but every time I pick up clay, I’m like a baby using its hands for the first time. Absolutely dreadful. If one day I could make and paint a figurine like the ones I admire in videos, that would be awesome... But for now, I’m not counting on it.

How do you want to evolve as a creator?

I’ve had an absolute blast drawing fanart over the years, and it’s certainly played a massive role in my growth as an artist. But my dream has always been to publish my own stories for y'all to enjoy! I have lots of worlds I want to introduce to you before I’m old and gray. I want to get faster, work harder, and get better at drawing interesting settings so I can get the wheels turning as soon as possible. I also want to stop avoiding the color blue like a coward.

What do you wish you knew when you first started out creating art that you know now?

Pay your taxes quarterly. Tablets will break at the exact moment you need them most, so have a spare. Wear your blue light glasses. You’re going to need to wear a brace on every joint on the right side of your body. It can be lonely sitting at your desk all day. The car on the side of the road that costs $1000 cash….. don’t trust it!!!

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

@cranity—They use absolutely beautiful colors and weighty line work. Everything looks so sharp and clean! I wanna put it all up on my wall!

@vewn—Their ability to crank out quality short films and illustrations packed with detail is incredible. The off-kilter perspective they use really sells disorientation and catches your attention like nothing else.

@nelnal—They have absolutely banger character designs again and again, I can’t believe one person’s mind can come up with so many creative ideas!

@jinx88kc—They have a beautiful and recognizable style, and the way they incorporate animation into their illustrations sometimes is SO cool!

Thanks for stopping by, Metal! For more of Metal’s work, follow their Tumblr, @themetalhiro! If you haven't seen their Meet the Artist piece, be sure to check it out here!

[moonstruckme]

Are you going to continue the roomate James series? I’m actually in love with it😍

Yes! Thank you for reading <3

part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13

roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 804 words

“Honey, I’m home!” 

A smile tugs at your lips, even as you roll your eyes to yourself. James has become more and more fond of these pet names, and of announcing his comings and goings like he’s worried you’ll miss him. (He’s never gone long enough for that, though you might actually miss him if he were.) If you don’t respond in some way or another, he’ll—

“Hey.” He pokes his head through your cracked door. “You alive in here?” 

You pause in folding your laundry to give him a deadpan look. “I could have been in my underwear.” 

He looks mildly horrified. “I’d hope if you were, you’d close the door all the way.” 

“You know, I did manage to stay alive even before you moved in.” 

James leans on your doorframe, giving you the sort of lazy grin you have to pretend doesn’t scare butterflies into flight in your stomach. You really hope that wears off soon. “See, but now I’m convinced if I don’t check on you, you really will die and it’ll be my fault.” 

“How would it be your fault?” 

“Classic case of roommate neglect. I smell the rotting coming from inside your room, the police come, they ask How did you not know your roommate was dead for a month? I reply, Well, officer, she said she could be galavanting in her underwear at any moment. They put me in handcuffs and I spend the next five to fifteen years having Sirius bring me cigarettes I don’t want so that I can trade them for ramen noodles in the yard.” 

You scoff, fighting a smile. “As if you would ever eat ramen.” 

“That’s what I’m saying, sweetheart. You’d be forcing me upon desperate times. But hey,” he raises his hands in a show of surrender, “I didn’t come in here to discuss prison currency. Would it be alright with you if I had friends over tonight?” 

“Of course,” you say, looking back down to match a pair of socks. “You don’t need to ask every time, it’s always alright.” 

“Thanks,” he says warmly, “but it makes me feel better to ask. What do you want on your pizza?” 

You blink. “Me?” 

“Yes, you.” He smiles. Butterflies all over again. “You don’t have to hang out with us to eat it—though we’d love to have you—but I’m not just going to order pizza to your own apartment without having any for you.” 

“It’s your apartment, too,” you remind him. “That’d be a very normal thing to do.” 

“Irregardless.” James waves you off. You wrinkle your nose at the word choice. “What do you want?” 

You swallow a sigh. There are some things, you’ve found, James is nearly impossible to argue with about. If you really dig your heels in, sometimes you can make him move first, but you don’t feel like it right now. 

You do the next best thing you can think of: choosing the least obtrusive option. “Cheese is good with me, thanks.” 

His eyes narrow like he knows what you’re doing, but he says, “Got it. I’ll let you know when it’s here.” 

“Thanks.” You turn your attention back to your laundry. James lingers in the doorway. 

A month ago, you would have kept ignoring him, working on the (unfounded) hope that he’d go away. Now, you look up. 

“Do you think you might come downstairs and hang out?” he asks. He has a strange look on his face, one you can’t quite decipher. “You know you’re always invited.” 

You give James a terse sort of smile. He’s not stopped inviting you to do things since the day he moved in. Your open invitation has been made very clear, and you’ve been accepting it more often lately. James is someone who makes it easy to feel close to him. He tosses pet names at you like they’re nothing, comes to check on you when he gets home, pretends he needs to go grocery shopping just because you need a ride to the store. Last week, you’d sat down to watch a movie with him and woken up to a black screen, your cheek smushed into his shoulder and his head resting atop yours. 

Somehow, you’ve let him spill into your life without meaning to, and now you have these childish, crush-like reactions whenever he smiles a certain way or calls you pet names with that familiar bent to his voice. You know you just need time to sort these feelings out. It’d probably be ideal to keep yourself from spilling into his life as much as possible in the meantime. 

But it’s hard to deny James anything when he’s so sweet to you. And he’s nice. His friends seem nice. 

“I might,” you say. 

“I’ll take the win,” James replies, smiling. These butterflies are seriously inconvenient.

[bueckers]

UNFINISHED BUSINESS ━━━ paige bueckers

i don’t wanna fight, but you got the wrong vibes. let me get you right, it’s how i apologize. ✶

synopsis: she broke it off, but has since had a hard time leaving her alone… especially when having to see her in person.

pairing: paige bueckers x fem oc

warnings: smut with plot, p eating ( p is literally EATING ), fingering, thigh riding, and slight angst.

notes: this is ridiculously long. in honor of her fit here, enjoy.. i loved writing this almost as much as i love the song lol. lmk if i should make a part two or maybe a series!

Nervous, excited, and borderline bald from tugging at my hair—these were all the things I had felt the moment I stepped into the WNBA 2024 All-Star Game.

I would be seeing Paige tonight. Paige would be seeing me tonight. Paige knew I knew she would be seeing me tonight, and I knew Paige knew she would be seeing me tonight.

When Paige and I first started hooking up, it was never supposed to be anything serious. She was sidelined with a torn ACL, and I knew she was in a dark place, struggling with everything that came with being forced off the court. I think that’s why it started, honestly. She needed an escape, something to make her forget for a little while, and I was there.

Paige and I have known of each other for years, though. We both came up in the basketball world at the same time, our names being tossed around in the same circles since high school. We’d cross paths at AAU tournaments and national showcases, always on different teams but always aware of each other.

Back then, our support for each other was more from a distance, and it wasn’t until college that things started to shift. We crossed paths more often, whether it was at games, media events. The rivalry between our schools added a new layer to our interactions, but by then, we had leveled up from distant competitors to something more like casual friends.

Those moments were what led us to where we eventually ended up. The more we talked, the more we realized how much we actually had in common—our experiences, our struggles, the pressure to perform, and the constant scrutiny. It felt natural, easy, to let our guard down with each other, which is why when her injury happened and everything else in her life felt like it was falling apart, I wasn’t surprised when we fell into it.

We had an agreement. Not one that was ever talked about soberly, but the way it happened just fell into place so perfectly that we didn’t need to. We’d meet up when it was needed, no commitments, no expectations. Just two people finding comfort in each other, filling a void that we couldn’t fill on our own. It was convenient, effortless, and most importantly, it worked for the both of us. I guess I figured if I kept things casual, I wouldn’t get caught up in something messy. I didn’t want to be the one to complicate her life even more.

We’d cross paths after games, during off-season, or whenever our schedules aligned, slipping into each other’s lives for a few hours at a time. She knew how to keep me at arm’s length, just close enough to keep me coming back but far enough to never let me in too deep. She knew exactly how to make me feel needed without ever giving too much of herself away. It was maddening, really—how she could be so vulnerable one minute, showing me sides of herself that no one else got to see, and then switch off just as quickly.

The more we hooked up, the more I started to realize I was getting too close. I could see it in the way she’d look at me sometimes, like she knew I was starting to care too much. And the worst part was, she didn’t seem to mind pushing me right to that edge. She’d say something that made my heart race, or she’d touch me in a way that felt like it meant something, only to pull back and remind me of our status. She was always in control, always the one with the upper hand, and I hated how easily I let her have it.

And then it was all done. She cut things off with a cold finality that I still can’t even believe. No explanation, no soft letdown—just a sudden, brutal end. It was like she knew exactly when I’d reached that point and she didn’t hesitate to remind me that it was never supposed to mean anything at all.

“I’m gonna go grab some snacks, alright? Try to look a little more happy for the jumbotron,” JuJu teases, getting up from her seat. I gasped, barely having any time to process her insult as she scooted between me to get to the stadium stairs.

“Very funny,” I muttered, watching her walk away.

Alone now, I focused on the game, doing an extremely good job at hiding the gnawing in my chest. I’d say I have a good poker face, but Paige would agree to disagree. My phone buzzed, jolting me from my thoughts. It was her and she’d finally found you. She was on the other side of the arena, clearly getting a kick out of having you in her view.

you mad at me or just deep in thought?

I rolled my eyes back to the deep depths of hell. Another text from her.

you look good tonight

you too. how’s the game?

As soon as I hit send, I regret it. I should have ignored her. I should have said something snarky.

Her reply comes almost immediately.

could be better. thought about coming over

what stopped you?

You watched her text bubble practically stutter, making you quirk an eyebrow.

juju. i didn’t wanna make it awkward.

lol. okay.

actually, scratch that. leave w me.

I shifted in my seat, my hands suddenly clutching my phone a little tighter.

paige, no.

why not?

I shut off my phone just in time for JuJu’s return, watching as she squeezed through mounds of people to get back to me. She handed me a cherry slurpee, which would however be gone in ten minutes.

“Thanks, sugar,” you teased her, wrapping your lips around the straw and taking a nice, long sip. She shook her head at me as she focused on the game again, nachos in hand. Ping.

Tell her don’t get too comfortable 😂

I could even feel her eyes boring into me from the other side. I could picture the stupid smirk or gummy smile she’d have. I turned my ringer off and silenced Paige’s notifications before slipping my phone into my back pocket and reverting my attention back to the game. It’s almost over.

Fast forward to the final buzzer, and Juju and I made our way down to the court, weaving through the crowd of fans and players. I always loved the energy in a room of women’s basketball players and fans— there were always a million things going on at once. As we reached the court, we spotted Caitlin, who was already deep in conversation with a couple of other players.

“Great game, Cait,” I said, pulling her into a light hug. “Guess nobody busts your butt as good as SC, huh?” I pulled back first, resting my hands on my hips. I could say I’ve known Caitlin as long as I have Paige, but Cait doesn’t know me the way Paige does.

Caitlin laughed, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. “Yeah, yeah, Miss Championship. but don’t get too cocky now.”

Juju laughed alongside me, adding a quick comment about how USC would give her a run for her money next time. The conversation flowed easily, a mix of post-game analysis and friendly banter. I scanned the court for a brief moment, knowing exactly who I was looking for.

Sure enough, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Flau’jae and Paige making their way over. I braced myself, knowing the cameras would be all over this reunion, and the media would have a field day with it. Paige looked as confident as ever, her stride always one that grabbed attention.

“Hey, y’all,” Paige said, her voice smooth, effortless. She exchanged hugs and high-fives with everyone, her presence commanding attention as always. When she reached me, she didn’t hesitate to pull me into a hug, her hand resting on my hip before snaking around to my lower back.

And then I felt it—her hand slipping lower, fingers grazing the fabric of my mini skirt. I could hear the smirk in her voice as she leaned in, her breath warm against my ear. “Good to see you.” Just close enough to keep me coming back.

I pulled back slightly, meeting her eyes. There was that smirk. My heart was pounding, a mix of frustration and something else I didn’t want to acknowledge. “You too,” I managed, keeping my tone as neutral as possible, pulling back with a tight-lipped grin that looked friendly enough to anyone who didn’t know what was going on. Which was everyone.

The group continued chatting, oblivious, obviously. You’d found out the one thing you hated about being around Paige was the overwhelming current of being the only ones in the room who knew how each other was feeling. Paige, ever the actor, kept up her usual easygoing demeanor, but I could feel her gaze on me, like she was waiting for something. I tried to focus on the conversation, but it was impossible with her so close, the warmth of her hand still lingering on my skin.

When the small talk finally wound down, and the others started drifting away, Paige moved closer, her eyes locked on mine. She leaned in again, her voice low, almost a whisper. “C’mon. Meet me,” she coaxed, her breath warm against my ear. Her fingers brushed lightly against my side, tracing a path.

I hesitated, the resolve I’d built up over the past hour crumbling under the weight of her presence. She was testing me, pushing every button she knew she could. And damn it, it was working.

I finally nodded, barely audible. “Okay.”

It was all she needed. A single, one-word confirmation that I wanted her as bad as she does. She took my phone out of my pocket for me, placing it my hand as she said her goodbyes to everyone else, leaving me there. I suppose it was smarter for her to do that anyway.

Shortly after Paige’s departure, I made my way out as well. JuJu wasn’t a tough barrier to get past. I told her to finish up her conversations, and that I’d see her back at the hotel. I wasn’t quite show how long my excuse would suffice, but I hoped she’d find her way to the bar or something after.

I don’t know why I listened. Watched my fingers click on her contact and give the driver her hotel’s address. It was like I was compelled from the moment she’d touched me, and to be honest, I don’t think I’d be surprised if that was the case.

The Uber ride felt interminable, each passing moment only heightening the anticipation and anxiety. I could barely focus on the city lights flashing by outside, my mind consumed with the impending confrontation and whatever would follow.

Finally, I was able to make my way to her room, feeling the cool air of the hallway against my skin as I knocked on the door. When Paige answered, her smile was as infuriatingly charming as ever, and she pulled me inside with a warm, yet testing glint in her eye.

The moment the door clicked shut behind us, Paige’s demeanor shifted. Before I could voice any protest, her lips were on mine, kissing me with an urgency that made my heart race. I barely had time to process the sudden change before she deepened the kiss, her hands roaming possessively over my back.

I tried to pull away, my mind still reeling from the fact that I was even here, but her grip tightened, pulling me closer. “Paige,” I murmured against her lips, trying to catch my breath. “We need to talk—” but as much as I tried to voice it, I knew that isn’t what we both really planned to do.

She silenced me with another intense kiss, her fingers tangling in my hair, guiding my head to tilt for better access. Her touch was relentless, her body pressing against mine with all the need in her body. “I don’t wanna fight,” she whispered between kisses, her breath hot and heavy against my skin. “Jus’ wanna be close to you.” She breathed in my scent, and I melted.

The words were almost lost in the heated moment, but I could feel the sincerity. She pulled back just enough to look into my eyes, her gaze smoldering with an intensity that made me rethink actually standing on business. She waited, trying to see if I was really against this. I licked my lips, glancing at hers.

I didn’t stand a chance.

Her lips found mine again, and the world narrowed to the press of our bodies. Our kisses were feverish and desperate, each touch holding some type of meaning. Paige’s hands roamed over my skin like there were so many options in a candy store and she couldn’t pick just one. In this case, one spot to focus on. Her mouth trailed down my collarbone, leaving a path of pinkish marks.

Our bodies were pressed together and refusing to let go. Paige guided me towards the bed, her hands never leaving my body, her lips continuing their assault on my skin. When she finally lowered me onto the bed, I was needy and breathless and finally feeling a little more realistic.

“P, I’m still mad,” I tried to insist, though my voice wavered as I watched her begin to undress. She unzipped her Nike vest slowly, the sound of the fabric sliding down her body making my pulse quicken. It fell to the floor, and she ripped off her shirt with a sudden, breathless intensity, revealing her sports bra. The sight of her, partially unclothed and vulnerable in front of me again left me speechless.

“I know,” she murmurs, her head slightly tilted as she looked at me all-knowingly. “And ima’ make it up to you, I promise. Just let me get you right.” Her fingers trailed up my bare legs, eliciting a small gasp from my lips. She tugged at the hem of my skirt, pulling the fabric down and grabbing my panties in the process. I watched her do it, in utter disbelief that this was how I was spending my night.

Her fingers graze teasingly against my kneecaps, sending shivers through my body, before she gently but firmly peels my legs apart. I look down at her. “You’re just trying to distract me,” I say, but there’s no heat behind the words.

Paige smirks, a knowing look in her eyes as she falls to her knees, her hands sliding over my thighs. “Maybe,” she admits, her voice dropping into a low, sultry tone as she tucks her lip between her teeth. “But you can’t say you don’t want this too.”

She’s right, and we both know it. The way she’s touching me, the way her eyes are locked onto mine with that look. The same one that knows she’s getting her way tonight. My worries seem so distant now, nothing more than a whisper of irritation in the back of my mind, easily drowned out by the way Paige’s hands are moving.

I begin to say something, but she easily cuts me off by diving into me with no warning, immediately humming against my cunt in satisfaction. Her eyebrows were furrowed as her tongue made some deliberate strokes, seemingly in disbelief of the way I tasted. She looks up at me as she delves in, a sight beautiful enough for the Louvre but way too sinful.

She says something I can’t hear, but I do catch a, “Can’t leave you alone, ever. Fuck.”

“Yeah?” I muster out, my breath a careless whisper.

Paige smiles against me, loving the cocky tone in my voice as she responds with a fast nod, the movement making me gasp. “Yeah.”

From there, every moan and gasp from me seems to fuel her desire, making her work even harder to drive me wild. Her hands grip my hips firmly, keeping me in place as her mouth and tongue continue their relentless assault. In the haze of ecstasy, all I can focus on is the feeling of her between my legs, making good on her promise to get me right, leaving me utterly consumed by the pleasure she’s giving.

I come, loud enough that the neighbors might know Paige’s name, but she keeps going. It becomes too much, enough for me to whine and pull away, scooting a little bit higher on the bed. She isn’t going for it, though, and immediately brings me back to her mouth, wrapping my legs in her thick arms.

“Where you tryna’ go, princess?” she teases. The sensation of her mouth and fingers on me is so intoxicating that I can barely respond before she pulls back entirely, rising to her feet. She begins to peel off her pants, her movements slow, leaving me breathless and frustrated.

“Seriously?” I complain.

“Chill,” she responds with a husky chuckle, towering over me in the sexiest way explainable. It’s like she contemplates something in her head for a moment, leaving me dripping wet and needy before her.

Finally, Paige steps closer, her hands sliding down to her sports bra. With a teasing glance, she pulls it off, revealing her bare chest. My eyes widen as I take in her form, unable to tear my gaze away. She then sits back down, positioning herself comfortably on the edge of the bed. “Want you to get on my thigh, baby, m’kay?” And there was no room for argument.

I crawl toward her, a mixture of urgency and anticipation in my movements. Once I’m seated on her thigh, I start to ride it slowly, the friction sending waves of pleasure through me. I truly can’t believe we haven’t done this before. The way she flexes, the way I can feel her muscle.. it’s all too much.

I roll my head back, needing more. My hands find Paige’s boxers, slipping into them with ease as she watches, her eyes moving more than her actual head. My fingers find their way to her core, exploring.

Paige’s breath hitches, her fingers gripping my hip as she watches me intently. “You like that, don’t you?” she breathes, her voice filled with a mixture of desire and all things Paige. “You’ve got me exactly where you want me.”

I stare at her. My body and arm moving repeatedly, my hair a bit puffy at this rate, and a panting mess. Paige raises her thumb to my plump and parted lips, slipping it in. I moan out, forced to suck around it as I squeeze my eyes shut.

Paige is in a trance, completely focused on the warmth around her thumb and how your small fingers disappear into her. “So, so, so good. Love seeing you above me, baby. So pretty.” I couldn’t understand how she could say things like these, and happen to not mean them, but it was the last thing on my mind.

“Mfmfmm, I’m gonna come. Again.”

Paige’s response is a series of breathy moans, her hands gripping my hips tightly as she keeps me pressed down, every thrust and touch pushing us both closer to the edge.

As she finally shudders, her release crashes over her like a tidal wave, her body trembling violently. The sensation of her coming around my fingers makes my own climax come shortly after. I cry out, my own pleasure peaking as I grind against her, my fingers thrusting in and out.

Our combined releases feel explosive, a storm of heat and passion that has us both gasping and moaning. I feel her tremors against my fingers as I continue to move, riding out the last waves of ecstasy before finally collapsing against her, both of us spent and tangled together in a sated, sweaty mess.

I think I’ll regret this in the morning. But right now? I’ve never been happier.

[julietsf1]

From Raya to Rivalry - Franco Colapinto x Sainz!Reader

Summary: Carlos Sainz's little sister is pushed to the limit when rookie Franco Colapinto, who stood her up after a flirtatious encounter on Raya, re-enters her life—without any sign he remembers her at all. Between race weekends and time with friends the tension between them becomes impossible to ignore. Will Franco finally remember why she’s been driving him mad all along?

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, Charles wearing those hideous pants again. Possibly wrong Spanish?

AN: Sup sweeties!! Another one! 9k words oh my days... inspired after seeing him on Raya last weekend, help me manifest a match pls lmaooo

___

The Singapore paddock was buzzing with its usual mix of high-speed energy and humidity so thick you could practically swim in it. Most people hated the sticky heat, but I loved the chaos of it all—the lights, the fans, the noise. Normally, I’d be soaking it all in, grinning from ear to ear, but today… well, today was different.

Because today, I was about to meet Franco Colapinto. Or rather, remeet him.

“Y/N!” Carlos’s voice called out to me as I made my way through the maze of hospitality suites. I spotted him standing with a guy I hadn’t seen in months—but who I recognized immediately. Short brown hair, that annoyingly perfect face, and a grin that screamed trouble.

“Come here!” Carlos waved me over, looking way too pleased with himself.

I made my way toward them, my mind racing. Franco Colapinto. Of all the people Carlos could’ve become friends with, it had to be him.

“This is Franco,” Carlos said, introducing the rookie driver standing next to him, completely unaware of the history. “He’s the one I’ve been telling you about.”

Franco extended his hand, that infuriating smirk plastered on his face like we hadn’t met before. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

I hesitated for a split second, surprised he didn’t seem to remember me. I forced a smile, shaking his hand. “You too,” I said, keeping my tone neutral even though irritation bubbled under the surface.

He didn’t remember. Seriously?

Carlos, oblivious as ever, kept the introductions going. “I’m showing him around first time in Singapore—helping him settle in.”

Franco’s smirk only grew as he glanced at me. “Carlos told me a lot about you.”

I narrowed my eyes. “All good things, I hope?”

“Of course,” he replied, his tone smooth. “Apparently, you’re always by his side, keeping him in check.”

I forced an awkward laugh. “Someone has to.”

Franco chuckled, and I hated how casual he was, how easy this all seemed for him. How could he not remember?

Carlos nudged Franco. “She’s tough. But you’ll get used to her.”

“Yeah, I’ve got a feeling we’ll get along just fine,” Franco said, his eyes glinting with amusement.

I forced a tight smile. “Sure. We’ll see about that.”

The second we’d been introduced, I knew this weekend was going to be hell. Not only did Franco seem every bit as cocky as I remembered, but the fact that he didn’t even recognize me? That stung more than I cared to admit.

"Look at us! Latinos taking care of Latinos!" Carlos proclaimed, slinging an arm around Franco’s shoulders like they were long-lost brothers. 

“We’re Spanish, Carlos. Not Latinos,” I corrected him for what had to be the hundredth time.

Carlos just waved me off. “Same difference, hermana.”

I shrugged; it was no use. Carlos had it in his head that he and Franco were kindred spirits, bonded by heritage and brought together by fate.

Franco didn’t even seem to care though. He’d just grin at Carlos, play along, and occasionally throw in a “sí, jefe” for good measure, which, for some reason, made Carlos beam with pride. And every time he did it, I swear, a small part of my sanity chipped away.

It wasn’t just that Franco was arrogant—plenty of the guys on the grid had egos to match their talent. No, my problem with Franco was that I knew him. And not just in the “we’ve crossed paths a few times” way. No, this was personal.

We’d met on Raya a while back. You know, that exclusive dating app for “famous” people. I’d been curious—mostly out of boredom—and swiped right when his profile popped up. It wasn’t that he wasn’t my type; he was cute, in that annoyingly perfect way. But there was something about his bio, some sarcastic line about how he was “not just here for friends,” that made me pause. Still, I swiped.

We’d exchanged messages for a week or so. Flirty, teasing. Nothing too deep. He was funny, I’ll give him that. And then we’d made plans to meet up. Dinner at a rooftop restaurant in Monaco. Classic.

Except… he never showed up.

No text. No call. Just nothing.

I’d waited for over an hour, feeling like a complete idiot, checking my phone every few minutes as people around me gave me sympathetic looks. I left that night swearing off drivers for good.

And now here he was, strolling around the paddock with Carlos like he hadn’t completely ghosted me months ago. Worse still, he didn’t even seem to recognize me. The same smirk, the same cocky attitude, but no flicker of recognition.

The audacity.

I mean, sure, I wasn’t about to bring up a failed Raya date in the middle of race weekend, but still. A part of me wanted to shake him and scream, “Seriously? You don’t remember me?!”

But instead, I kept my cool. Sort of.

“Franco’s a quick learner,” Carlos said, turning to Lando, who’d just wandered over with his usual laid-back grin. “Picked up on everything in no time.”

Franco gave a modest shrug, but the look in his eyes was anything but humble. “I’ve got a good teacher.”

Lando raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “I don’t know if Carlos is the best person to be learning from, mate.”

“Hey!” Carlos protested, but his grin showed he didn’t mind the teasing. “Just watch—you’ll see Franco out there killing it this weekend.”

I rolled my eyes, hanging back as the boys bantered. Franco was already fitting in too easily, blending into the group like he’d been there all along. Normally, I’d be cracking jokes, joining in on the fun, but every time I looked at Franco, that old irritation flared up. I couldn’t help it. The guy brought out the worst in me.

“So, Y/N,” Lando said, turning his attention to me. “What’s the verdict on the new rookie?”

Before I could answer, Franco cut in with a grin. “I think she likes me. She just doesn’t know it yet.”

I blinked at him. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You know,” Franco said, leaning in slightly, that smirk never leaving his face. “It wouldn’t surprise me.”

“How can someone be so full of themselves?” I looked at Franco in disbelief. 

Lando burst out laughing, clapping Franco on the shoulder. “Mate, I think you’ve met your match.”

Franco chuckled, completely unfazed. “Glad her brother is fun at least.”

Carlos, completely missing half of the conversation, tuned in again. “See? Latinos taking care of Latinos.”

I shot Franco a glare. “We are not Latino, Carlos.”

“Details,” Carlos waved dismissively, already walking ahead toward the press conference room. “Come on, we’ve got a schedule.”

As we made our way through the paddock, I kept a few steps behind, watching Franco saunter beside Carlos like he owned the place. Every time he laughed or tossed his hair back, my hands itched to strangle him. How could someone be so infuriatingly charming? And why did everyone seem to love him?

Because he’s a flirt. That’s why. He charms his way out of everything.

Like that time he charmed me into thinking he was actually interested.

By the time we reached the press conference room, I was already dreading what was about to happen. Franco, armed with a microphone and an audience? This was going to be a disaster.

Carlos took his seat beside Franco, and I hung back by the entrance, watching the chaos unfold.

It didn’t take long for Franco to work his magic. The first question was simple: “Franco, you’re new to the grid. How’s the experience treating you so far?”

He smiled, leaning toward the mic. “It’s been... quite the ride,” he said, his voice dripping with that smooth, confident tone. “But I like rides. The faster, the better.”

I felt my eye twitch.

The reporters chuckled, but Franco wasn’t done.

“Any nerves going into your first race here in Singapore?” another reporter asked, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

Franco’s grin widened. “Nerves? No. Excitement, maybe. A first ride is always a fun challenge! Can’t wait to get familiar with all the curves of the circuit.”

I groaned, quietly enough so only the people nearby could hear. I caught a few knowing glances from the journalists around me, and I was tempted to yell, “I’m not with him!” but held my tongue.

“He’s unbelievable,” I muttered under my breath.

Unfortunately, Franco’s hearing was sharper than I’d anticipated. He turned his head, locking eyes with me for a split second, and that smirk—God, that smirk—widened as if he knew exactly what I was thinking.

“Handling the heat well, Franco?” another reporter asked, her tone light and teasing.

Franco leaned back, grinning. “Heat’s never been a problem for me. I like it hot actually.”

I wanted to crawl into a hole. Or possibly throw something at him. How could one person be this insufferable?

“And what’s been the highlight of your time in Singapore so far?” one of the female reporters asked, her tone more flirtatious than professional.

Franco grinned, locking eyes with her. “The highlight? Let’s just say there’s been plenty to... keep me entertained.”

I wanted to crawl into a hole. Or possibly throw something at him. How could one person be this insufferable.

By the time the press conference wrapped up, I was practically vibrating with irritation. Carlos was chatting with a few reporters when Franco sauntered over, his confidence turned up to eleven.

“Enjoy the show?” he asked, his voice low and teasing.

I forced a smile, my tone dripping with sarcasm. “It was... enlightening.”

He chuckled. “You seem tense. Maybe you should try smiling once in a while.”

I blinked, narrowing my eyes at him. “I’ll smile when you stop talking.”

His grin widened, clearly enjoying this way too much. “So, never then?”

Before I could respond, Carlos reappeared, blissfully unaware of the tension brewing between us. “Ready to head to dinner?”

Franco gave me one last smirk before turning to Carlos with a casual, “Let’s go.”

As they walked away, I stood there, fuming.

This weekend was going to be hell.

.

The city lights of Singapore sparkled in the background as we arrived at the restaurant, one of Carlos’s favorite spots. It was tucked away, hidden from the main buzz of the city, the kind of place that only locals and celebrities knew about. Naturally, Carlos acted like he was both.

The rest of the group was already there when we walked in. Charles, Lando, George, and Alexandra were scattered around the table, mid-conversation. They waved us over, and I took a seat between Alexandra and Lando, leaving Carlos and Franco on the other side of the table.

“About time,” Lando grinned, motioning to the drinks. “We’ve already started, and George is on his second story about the ‘importance of a good cravat.’”

George shot Lando a withering look. “I do not recall making that remark. Besides, I would never subject these fine people to a lecture on cravats—unless they specifically requested it.”

Lando snickered. “Sure, mate. I’m sure everyone here was just dying to know how to tie the perfect Windsor knot.”

George adjusted the nonexistent collar on his shirt, sitting up straighter. “Actually, it’s the Prince Albert knot. Very distinguished.”

Charles rolled his eyes. “Please, no more knot talk, George. I’m still recovering from the last fashion seminar you gave us.”

I grinned, watching as George tried to defend his sartorial wisdom, while Lando and Charles tag-teamed to poke fun. It was typical—Lando being the class clown, George being... well, George.

Franco slipped into his seat beside Carlos, flashing that smug grin as if he was the star of the night. I immediately braced myself, knowing where this dinner was going to head.

I was happy to be seated next to Alexandra. Over the past year, we had grown really close after watching each race together in the Ferrari motorhome. She was one of the kindest and most intelligent girls I had ever met, and also one of the only friends I had confided in about the whole Franco mess. 

Alex sent me a beaming smile as I sat down, subtly grabbing my hand and giving it a squeeze. “So glad you could make it tonight!”

I smiled back, tension slowly falling off my shoulders. “Missed you loads, Alex!”

The waiter came around, taking our drink orders, and for a moment, the chatter filled the space, making it easy for me to avoid engaging with Franco. Lando was still on about FP2, sharing exaggerated stories about his heroic saves during the practice session.

“And then—just as I thought I was gonna bin it—bam! I pulled off the most insane save. I’m telling you, pure Norris finesse,” Lando said, throwing in dramatic hand gestures.

George raised an eyebrow, sipping his drink like an English lord. “Oh yes, the Norris magic... or, as the rest of the world calls it, ‘sheer dumb luck..’”

Lando gasped, clutching his chest theatrically. “Dumb luck? I’ll have you know that the precision with which I operate is unparalleled.”

“Uh-huh,” Charles smirked, leaning back in his chair. “If by finesse you mean nearly crashing into the barriers, then yeah—spot on.”

Lando threw up his hands in mock defeat. “You know, I don’t have to sit here and take this kind of abuse. I could be at karaoke right now, stealing the show with my rendition of ‘Wonderwall.’”

I laughed. “Karaoke? Again? I still haven’t recovered from your ‘Livin’ on a Prayer’ performance at Fewtrell’s birthday party.”

Lando winked. “It was legendary, and you know it.”

George smirked. “Legendary for all the wrong reasons. I’m still wondering how you managed to be both off-key and out of sync at the same time.”

Alex leaned in, grinning. “I think we should all be grateful Lando isn’t a professional singer.”

Lando pouted. “Fine, fine. Take away a man’s dreams. Just for that, I’m definitely doing ‘Wonderwall’ next.”

The banter was light and fun, and for a while, it felt like a typical dinner with friends. But then, of course, Franco had to open his mouth.

“So, Y/N,” Franco said, leaning forward slightly, his eyes glinting with amusement. “You’ve been traveling with Carlos for a while now, haven’t you?”

I tensed slightly, not sure where he was going with this. “Yeah, a few seasons.”

“Must be nice,” Franco continued, that smirk never leaving his face. “Traveling the world, living the F1 life...”

I felt the undertone of his comment, but I stayed neutral. “It has its perks, I guess.”

Lando, sensing the shift in tone, jumped in. “Y/N’s basically our paddock princess at this point. She runs this place better than half the team bosses.”

Carlos grinned, clearly loving the banter. “Y/N’s like my second team principal. Only scarier.”

Alex nudged me gently, her voice soft. “I don’t know how you handle them all, Y/N.”

I smiled, feeling a bit more at ease with my friends supporting me. But then Franco, never one to let things rest, spoke up again.

“Yeah, it must be nice,” he said, his tone sharper now, though still laced with that smug charm. “Getting to enjoy the F1 life without actually having to work for it.”

I froze, my grip tightening around my glass. There it was. He’d been building up to that jab all night.

Before I could respond, I felt a light touch on my arm. Alex, sensing the shift in my mood, shot me a concerned glance. “You okay?” she whispered, her eyes searching mine.

I gave her a small, tight nod. “Yeah. It’s fine.”

She squeezed my arm gently, a silent reminder that she had my back.

“Already upset by that? Thought you’d have a thicker skin than that, Y/N.” he smirked. 

I shot Franco a tight smile, my patience wearing thin. “Oh, I’m definitely enjoying it here, Franco. What’s it like by the way, being the rookie who’s all ego but without a seat for next year?”

Lando choked on his drink, turning it into a cough to cover his laugh. George raised an eyebrow, clearly amused, while Carlos looked mildly concerned but didn’t intervene.

Franco, though? He loved it. He grinned like he’d just won the verbal sparring round. “Touché. But at least I’m doing something with my life.”

My eyes narrowed. “And what exactly is that? Besides trying to flirt with every reporter in sight?”

He leaned back, his eyes flashing with amusement. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did I miss you swooning? Or were you too busy hanging onto Carlos’s wallet?”

The table went quiet for a beat, the playful banter coming to an abrupt halt.

George immediately jumped in, waving his hands. “Whoa, whoa, let’s calm down, people. No need to escalate. We’re all friends here. Except maybe you two. You two seem like... frenemies? Enemies with benefits? I’m not really sure anymore.”

Lando snickered, jumping on George’s bandwagon. “Enemies with benefits—that’s a movie I’d watch. Maybe we should take bets on how long it’ll be before you two—”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, Norris,” I warned, cutting him off.

Lando just grinned wider. “You know me too well.”

Franco, ever the instigator, leaned back in his chair, clearly enjoying the way George and Lando were trying to ease the tension. “I think George is onto something. Maybe frenemies is the right word.”

I shot Franco a look. “More like enemies, full stop.”

Charles nodded dramatically, ignoring my pointed glare. “Yep, definitely frenemies. A modern romance in the making.”

Alexandra elbowed me gently under the table, shooting me a knowing look, but I ignored her. The banter between Franco and me had always been sharp, but tonight it felt like something was shifting. The sarcasm was still there, but there was a new edge to it—one that I wasn’t liking too much.

The rest of dinner passed in a blur of conversations and laughter, with George and Lando regularly cutting in whenever the tension between Franco and me threatened to boil over. Every so often, Franco would throw another sly remark my way, and I’d respond with one just as cutting. It was like a game neither of us could resist playing, even though it was obvious that everyone else at the table was growing increasingly uncomfortable with the tension.

By the time dessert arrived, the atmosphere had cooled slightly, but I was still on edge. Franco hadn’t let up the entire night, and I could feel his eyes on me even as I pretended to focus on my crème brûlée.

“So,” Lando said, trying to break the awkwardness again, “who’s ready for some karaoke after this?”

George immediately perked up, always the entertainer. “Oh, I’m in. I’ve been working on my acapella version of ‘Bohemian Rhapsody.’”

Charles groaned, “Please, not again.”

Everyone laughed, and for a moment, the mood lightened. But as the night drew to a close, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the dynamic between Franco and me was shifting into dangerous territory. The sarcastic comments were becoming more personal.

Carlos stood, stretching and pulling out his phone. “Alright, we should call it a night. Big day tomorrow.”

The group began to gather their things, preparing to leave, but Franco lingered by the door, his eyes catching mine for the hundredth time that evening.

“Good night, Y/N,” he said, voice dripping with faux sweetness.

I shot him a tight smile. “Night, Franco. Try not to let all that charm go to your head.”

He grinned. “Too late.”

With that, we all parted ways. Carlos walked beside me, completely oblivious to the storm brewing inside me.

I exhaled sharply, shaking my head. This was only going to get worse.

.

One thing about Carlos is that he is a man of habits. Every race, we either play padel or golf the morning before the qualification. Just us two, to get his head clear and stuff, a peaceful moment. So when Carlos invited Franco and me to play golf with Lando, I could already sense how this was going to go.

“I hope you’re ready,” Carlos said, swinging his club dramatically as we arrived at the pristine green course. The morning sun glinted off the lush landscape, and birds chirped in the background like we were about to film a serene nature documentary. Definitely at odds with how my lovely company was making me feel. 

Lando was already halfway through his first practice swing, clearly just happy to be outside and away from the track for a bit. “You guys know I’m going to win, right?” he said, flashing his signature mischievous grin.

I rolled my eyes. “Please. The last time we played, you couldn’t even make it past the windmill at the mini-golf course.”

“Hey!” Lando protested. “That windmill was rigged. I swear it wasn’t regulation size.”

“Uh-huh. Sure Go call the stewards to whine about it.”

He laughed and jokingly rolled his eyes at me. 

Carlos tapped Franco on the shoulder, handing him a golf club. “Franco. Focus. You might be a rookie on the grid, but you can’t afford to be a rookie here.”

Franco smirked, clearly unfazed by the competition. “I don’t know, Carlos. I think I’ll be just fine.”

The vibes were good at first, as we each took turns at the tee. Lando, predictably, spent more time making jokes than actually playing, which was a nice distraction—until Franco started making subtle digs.

“You sure you don’t just want to be our caddy, Y/N?” Franco asked, adjusting his own stance. “It might be easier for you to handle.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, gripping my club tighter. “I’m fine, thanks.”

He grinned. “Just checking. I wouldn’t want you to feel left out.”

I lined up my shot, trying to focus, but it was impossible not to notice Franco standing a few feet away. His white shirt made his tan even more striking under the morning sun, and his hair, still slightly messy, added to that infuriating, effortless charm. My eyes kept drifting back to him—how the fabric clung to his broad shoulders, the casual confidence in every move. Just as I was about to swing, he caught me looking. That smug grin appeared, and I immediately looked away, gripping the club tighter. The nerves in my stomach went crazy suddenly. I swung too hard, sending the ball off into the trees, nowhere near the hole.

Lando snorted. “Wow. Impressive.”

I shot him a glare. “Shut up, Norris.”

Franco chuckled, his voice annoyingly smooth. “Need me to fetch that for you?”

“I’d rather fetch it myself than owe you any favors,” I snapped, heading off in the direction of the lost ball.

As I disappeared into the trees, I heard Lando muttering behind me, “They’re like an old married couple. It’s wild.”

I rolled my eyes, but the comment stayed with me as I searched for the ball. An old married couple? More like two neighbours in a judge judy episode. At least, that’s what I told myself.

When I finally returned, ball in hand, I noticed Franco lining up his shot, a smug look on his face. And of course, he hit it perfectly—right toward the hole, as if to rub salt in the wound.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered, tossing my ball back onto the course.

“You’ll get it next time,” Franco said, his tone dripping with fake encouragement. “Maybe just... aim a little better.”

My jaw clenched. “I swear, if you say one more thing—”

“What? You’ll beat me with your superior golf skills?” He flashed that infuriating grin again, and something in me snapped.

“I’ll beat you with this club if you give me any more reason to,” I shot back. 

Lando, who was clearly enjoying the show, whistled. “Oh man, this is getting spicy. Should I grab popcorn for us Carlos?”

Carlos shook his head, finally sensing the rising tension. “Let’s keep it civil, guys.”

But that ship had already sailed. Franco and I were now locked in a full-blown competition, every swing of the club feeling like a personal challenge. My frustration grew with each passing round, especially as Franco continued to hit one perfect shot after another, all while making snide comments under his breath.

As Franco lined up for his next shot, he muttered something in Spanish, just loud enough for me to hear. “¿Cómo es posible que siempre estés tan enojada?” How is it possible that you're always so angry?

I stopped mid-swing, narrowing my eyes at him. “¿Perdón?” Excuse me?

“Digo, si te relajaras un poco, tal vez serías... soportable,” Franco replied with a shrug. “Dudo que sea posible, pero quién sabe.” I’m saying, if you relaxed a little, you might actually be... tolerable. I doubt it’s possible, but who knows.

I stepped closer, my voice dropping. “¿Soportable? No creo que tengas ningún derecho de hablar de soportar nada cuando eres el ser humano más insoportable que existe.” Tolerable? I don’t think you have any right to talk about tolerating anything when you’re the most insufferable human being that exists.

Franco chuckled, completely unfazed by my insult. “¿Ah sí? ¿Insoportable, yo?” Oh yeah? Insufferable, me?

“Sí, tú. ¿Te sorprende?” I shot back. “Porque honestamente no entiendo cómo alguien puede soportarte.” Yes, you. Does that surprise you? Because honestly, I don’t understand how anyone can stand you.

“Qué drama, Y/N. Si no sabías que te caía tan mal, tal vez me habría ahorrado el esfuerzo,” he replied, his tone mocking. What drama, Y/N. If I had known you hated me this much, maybe I would have saved myself the effort.

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “Eso sería genial.” That would be great.

Lando, hearing the rapid switch to Spanish, looked between us with raised eyebrows. “Whoa, what’s happening? Can we switch back to English? I’m missing all the tea.”

Carlos sighed, trying to keep the peace. “They’re just... passionate.”

Lando grinned. “Yeah, passionate about killing each other, maybe.”

Franco, still smirking, leaned in a little closer. “¿Sabes qué? Tal vez no te caigo tan mal como dices. Creo que te encanta pelear conmigo.” You know what? Maybe you don’t hate me as much as you say. I think you love fighting with me.

My frustration flared even more. “Me encantaría no tener que verte nunca más.” I’d love to never see you again.

“No creo que sea cierto,” Franco teased. I don’t think that’s true.

“¡Cállate!” I practically growled, my patience officially worn thin. Shut up!

Lando, now fully entertained, clapped his hands together. “Alright, alright. You two seriously need to cool off. This is golf, not a soap opera.”

Franco finally backed off, still grinning like he’d won the argument. I was fuming, and it didn’t help that every time I looked at him, he seemed so... calm. It was infuriating.

The rest of the game was a blur of snide comments, sarcastic remarks, and way too much tension for what was supposed to be a friendly game. By the end, I was ready to hurl my golf club into the nearest lake.

Lando, of course, took the whole thing in stride, wrapping an arm around both me and Franco as we finished up. “Well, that was fun, wasn’t it? We should do this again sometime. Maybe next time without the whole ‘I want to strangle you’ vibe.”

Franco chuckled, giving me a sideways glance. “I don’t know, I think the tension added something.”

I rolled my eyes, pulling away from Lando’s arm. “You would think that.”

Carlos, still oblivious to the volcanic-level tension, checked his phone. “Alright, let’s head back. We’ve got a busy schedule.”

Franco shot me one last smirk before following Carlos to the car. I stood there for a moment, watching him walk away, the frustration boiling over again.

Lando leaned in, his voice low. “You know, this whole enemies-to-lovers vibe you two have going on is a real treat for me.”

I shot him a glare. “There is no ‘lovers’ anything.”

He grinned. “Not yet, darling.”

With that, he jogged off after Carlos and Franco, leaving me standing there, shaking my head.

This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

.

After the hectic race weekend it was time to go home again, in Carlos’s case home was a beautiful country between France and Italy. Monaco was every bit as picturesque as people said—yachts dotting the harbor, luxury cars roaring through the narrow streets, and the smell of the sea mingling with high-end perfume in the air. It was the kind of place where the rich and famous went to flaunt what they had, and Carlos loved it. Naturally, he always loved inviting me for a visit. This time along with a certain Argentine unfortunately.

“Come on, Y/N,” Carlos had said when I tried to protest. “It’ll be fun! The weather’s perfect, we’ll explore the city, and we’ve got clubbing plans tonight. What could go wrong?”

So here I was, walking down the sun-drenched streets of Monaco with Franco striding a few steps ahead, Carlos chatting away beside him. The group had grown since we’d arrived—Alex Albon had joined us since he lived next door to Carlos, and Lando and Charles, both Monaco residents, decided to tag along as well.

“Alright, Carlos, I’ll admit it,” I said as we strolled through the streets. “Monaco’s got charm.”

Carlos grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “See? I told you. Best place in the world.”

I chuckled. “I’m not going that far, but I’m willing to appreciate it. I’d have more fun though if I didn’t have to watch Franco pretend he’s king of Monaco.”

Carlos rolled his eyes. “Relax. He’s not taking that title from Charles any time soon. He’s just enjoying Monte Carlo.”

“Yeah, enjoy it with every girl who crosses his path,” I muttered, watching as Franco winked at a passing woman who giggled in response.

Lando, catching my glare, sidled up beside me, grinning. “Ah, the drama is back. The sole reason why I’m here.”

“Oh, shut up,” I said, though a smile tugged at my lips despite myself.

I was trying, really. The sun was shining, the atmosphere was relaxed, and even though Franco was a few steps ahead of me, I figured I could let it slide—for now. I wasn’t going to let him ruin my day in this beautiful place.

As we meandered through the harbor, I nudged Lando, who was soaking in the views with his usual enthusiasm. “Bet you wish you had a yacht like one of these.”

Lando flashed a grin. “Give me a couple more wins, and you’ll see me with the biggest one in the harbor.”

“Oh, you’ll name it after yourself, I’m sure,” I teased.

“Obviously. It’ll be called Seao,” he joked, striking a ridiculous pose.

“The what now?” I asked confused.

“Get it? Like Land-o, Sea-o?” he said with the proudest face ever. 

I laughed, shaking my head. “I’ll be sure to stay far, far away from it.”

Lando gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. “You wound me, Y/N. I was going to offer you the best cabin!”

The lighthearted banter was helping to keep my mood up, and even as Franco joined the conversation with that usual swagger, I managed to stay upbeat. For now.

“You know, Y/N,” Franco said, giving me that infuriating grin, “you’d look great on one of those yachts. You’ve got the whole ‘Monaco gold digger vibe’ down.”

I rolled my eyes, but the smile lingered on my face. “Nice try, Franco. Flattery’s not going to work on me.”

“Who said I was flattering you?” he shot back with a wink.

Before I could respond, Charles chimed in, proudly displaying his fashion choices for the evening. “What do you think of these pants?” he asked, clearly fishing for compliments on his intersting patchwork denim.

Lando snorted. “I think it’s a crime against fashion.”

I giggled, taking in the ridiculousness of Charles’s outfit. “It’s... bold, Charles. Very bold.”

Charles looked pleased. “It’s couture.”

“You keep telling yourself that,” I said with a laugh, earning an approving look from Lando.

The day continued on with playful banter and an easygoing atmosphere. We explored the city, enjoyed lunch at a café with an incredible view of the sea, and even though Franco occasionally made snide comments, I let them roll off my back. I wasn’t going to let him get under my skin today.

As the sun dipped behind the Monaco skyline, the group started getting ready for the night out. The air buzzed with excitement—everyone still riding the high from Lando’s win last week—but I couldn’t shake the unease settling in my stomach. I knew exactly what was coming. Franco, who looked like he’d just stepped out of some annoyingly perfect cologne ad, would be in full flirt mode, and I was not going to enjoy his little display. 

Lando, ever the showman, stretched dramatically as we gathered at Carlos’s apartment. “Monaco nightlife, everyone. Prepare yourselves for the full Norris experience.”

Charles raised an eyebrow. “The Norris experience? What’s that? Getting involved in drama you didn’t start but somehow make worse?”

Lando smirked, undeterred. “Hey, the drama just follows me. I’m an innocent bystander.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Sure, innocent. I’m still trying to figure out how those girls at the last afterparty got into a massive fight about you and you walked away untouched.”

Charles snickered, nodding. “Lando’s like a magnet for girl drama. He’s always in the middle of the mess but always forgiven somehow.”

Lando shrugged with a grin. “What can I say? Some people just have that natural charm.”

Charles snickered. “No amount of charm can compete with Franco’s... well, Franco-ness.”

I sighed, already dreading the inevitable. “Yeah, lucky us. Another night watching him do his thing.”

We arrived at the club, neon lights flashing, music already pounding through the air. And, of course, Franco didn’t waste any time. Within minutes, he was at the bar, leaning in close to two women, his signature smirk on full display. The worst part? He looked effortlessly good. Hair perfectly tousled, his shirt just tight enough to show off his broad shoulders... it was annoying how well he pulled it off.

I slid into the booth next to Lando, my drink in hand, trying to ignore how damn good Franco looked tonight. “How long do you think it’ll take before he’s flirted with every girl in here?” I muttered.

Lando glanced over at Franco, then back at me, a grin already forming. “Hmm... five minutes, tops. He’s like a sniper. Quick, precise.”

Charles chuckled, leaning in. “Make that four. You look like you’re about to march over there and take him out yourself.”

I rolled my eyes. “Please. I couldn’t care less who he’s talking to.”

Lando raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “Oh, really? Because that death stare you’re giving those girls suggests otherwise.”

“I am not giving them a death stare,” I shot back, probably a bit too defensively.

Charles smirked. “Sure you’re not. You’re just... monitoring the situation. Very closely.”

I scoffed, trying to keep my cool. “I just don’t understand how someone can be that... shallow.”

Lando shrugged, barely suppressing his laughter. “Or maybe he’s just really, really good-looking. I mean, come on, Y/N, you’ve noticed.”

I shot Lando a glare, but my cheeks felt hot. “Not helping, Lando.”

Lando leaned back in the booth, looking smug. “What? It’s okay to admit it. Franco’s got that whole ‘sexy and Spanish speaking’ thing going for him. You’re allowed to be jealous.”

I groaned, taking a bigger sip of my drink. “I’m not jealous. I just don’t get why people fall for that whole act.”

Charles raised an eyebrow, his grin only growing. “Oh, so it’s the act you’re mad at. Not the fact that he’s talking to those girls?”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Exactly. It’s the act. He’s a walking cliché.”

Lando exchanged a glance with Charles, the two of them clearly enjoying my frustration. “Right, right, it’s the act. Not the fact that every time he smiles at them, you look like you want to burn this place down,” Lando teased.

I groaned, leaning further back into the booth. “You two are impossible.”

“Impossible, but not wrong,” Charles said, smirking as he raised his glass to toast. “To Franco’s charm—and Y/N’s growing annoyance.”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s not about the charm. It’s the fact that—”

“—he’s ridiculously good-looking, and it’s pissing you off?” Lando finished for me.

I opened my mouth to argue, but nothing came out. I hated that they weren’t entirely wrong. Franco was annoyingly good-looking. And watching him flash that stupid grin at anyone within a five-foot radius was making me grind my teeth.

“You’re so totally jealous,” Lando declared with a triumphant grin.

“I am not jealous,” I protested, feeling the heat rise in my face. “I just think it’s ridiculous that he’s—”

“—charming the entire club while he should be talking with you?” Charles added, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

I glared at them both, trying to keep my composure. “I don’t care who he talks to.”

“Right,” Lando said, winking. “That’s why you haven’t stopped looking at him since we sat down.”

I groaned, shaking my head. “I’m not doing this tonight.”

Lando raised his glass in mock toast. “Famous last words, Y/N. Famous last words.”

Charles chuckled, leaning in with a mischievous grin. “You know, if you suddenly get the urge to go over there and throw a drink in his face, I’ll cover the next round.”

I shot him a look. “I’m not throwing drinks at anyone. But if he flirts with one more girl, I might reconsider.”

Lando burst out laughing, nudging me. “I’ll be ready with the camera. Would make a killer lando.jpg comeback post.’”

I sighed, swirling my drink as Franco’s laughter drifted over from the bar. His stupid, perfect laugh. This was going to be a long night.

After ordering his drink, Franco sauntered back to the table, his usual cocky grin in place. “Having fun, Y/N?” he asked, his tone dripping with faux innocence.

“Oh, absolutely,” I replied sarcastically. “Watching you work your charm on half the club is just... delightful.”

Franco chuckled, sliding into the booth across from me. “You know, Y/N, you should try it sometime. Flirting. It might make you less... uptight.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Uptight?”

“You heard me.” He leaned back, smirking. “You’re always so... tense. Maybe if you loosened up, you’d have a bit more fun.”

I could feel my annoyance rising, but I forced a smile. “Right. Because flirting with strangers is the key to happiness.”

Franco shrugged. “It’s a start.”

“You are so sad.” I shot back. “Getting your validation from strangers, never taking anything seriously.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I take plenty of things seriously.”

“Really? Because it sure seems like all you care about is attention. Who you can charm next. Who’s going to fall for your dumb act.”

Franco’s smile faltered for just a second before he recovered. “And what exactly is your problem, Y/N? You act like you’re so above it all.”

“Maybe because I don’t need to rely on shallow charm to get by,” I retorted. “Some of us actually have depth.”

“Oh, right,” Franco said, his voice laced with sarcasm. “What is it exactly you rely on then? Besides your brother’s finances, of course.”

Switching to Spanish, I snapped, “¿Sabes qué? Estoy harta de tu actitud de sabelotodo.” You know what? I’m sick of your know-it-all attitude.

“¿Y qué vas a hacer al respecto?” Franco replied, his voice low and challenging. And what are you going to do about it?

“Voy a ignorarte, como debería haberlo hecho desde el principio,” I hissed. I’m going to ignore you, like I should have done from the start.

“Claro, porque ignorar las cosas es lo tuyo, ¿verdad?” Franco shot back. Of course, because ignoring things is what you do best, right?

Lando, who had been watching the exchange with wide eyes, suddenly jumped in. “Okay, hold up! Time-out. We’re not turning this club into a fight club, alright? I’ve seen Brad Pitt way too many times already this season.”

Carlos, still deep in conversation with Alex, remained blissfully unaware, but the tension at the table was palpable.

Franco leaned back, his smirk returning. “Whatever you say, Y/N. Keep telling yourself you’ve got it all figured out.”

I stood up, glaring at him. “You’re not worth this argument.”

“Good to know,” Franco replied with a shrug, as if the whole conversation had barely affected him.

I turned on my heel, heading straight for the bar to get another drink. As I left, I could still feel Franco’s eyes on me, that smug grin probably plastered on his pretty face. 

.

The night had that strange Monaco mix of high-energy and quiet tension. The streets were buzzing after our time at the club, but beneath the neon lights and laughter, something more was brewing. I could feel it in the air between Franco and me, unspoken but undeniable.

We all stood by the curb as Carlos waved down a taxi. My mood was already on edge after the club, and I just wanted to get home and forget about the whole night. Franco had been in his element—flirting, chatting, showing off—and I was done.

“Alright, taxi’s here!” Carlos called, gesturing for us to pile in.

I moved to follow, but then Lando, who had been suspiciously quiet, suddenly stepped in. “Actually, Carlos, Y/N and Franco are gonna hang back for a bit,” Lando said, his voice way too casual for someone who clearly had mischief on his mind.

Carlos blinked. “What? Why?”

“Yeah, why?” I echoed, shooting Lando a look.

Lando waved it off with a dismissive hand. “They need some air. Clear their heads. We’ll see you at the apartment.”

Before I could argue, Carlos shrugged and got into the taxi with Alex and Charles, the door closing behind them. In a flash, the car was gone, leaving Franco and me standing on the empty sidewalk, bathed in the glow of the streetlights.

“What the hell was that about?” I muttered, pulling out my phone.

As if on cue, it buzzed with a message from Lando:

Enjoy your walk ;)

I rolled my eyes, showing Franco the text. “Of course. He’s messing with us.”

Franco chuckled beside me, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Well, looks like we’re walking.”

I sighed, my frustration already simmering beneath the surface. “Great.”

We started walking in silence, the noise of Monaco nightlife fading behind us as we wound through the quieter streets. Franco was close, but not too close, keeping that distance we’d both grown used to. I could feel his green eyes burning on me occasionally, lingering a bit too long.

After a few minutes of walking, Franco finally spoke. “You know, I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

“Oh yeah?” I replied, my voice laced with sarcasm. “About what? How great you are?”

He sighed, clearly realizing I wasn’t in the mood for jokes. “About our date.”

I stopped walking, turning to face him. Dumb shock written over my face. The mention of our failed date had been hanging over us since we met again, but I thought he had forgotten me. “So you remember?”

Franco hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t ghost you on purpose, Y/N.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Then why didn’t you show up?”

He looked down at the ground, taking a deep breath. “I crashed during testing.”

That caught me off guard. “Wait, what?”

“I had a pretty bad crash during testing with my team,” Franco explained, lifting the sleeve of his shirt to show me a faint scar on his shoulder. “I was out for a while. It happened the morning before we were supposed to meet.”

I stared at the scar, my mind racing. “You crashed? That’s your excuse?”

“Yeah,” he said quietly, pulling out his phone. “I’ve got footage of it if you don’t believe me. It wasn’t pretty.”

He handed me his phone, and I watched the video of the crash—his car spinning out of control, hitting the barrier, the wreckage that followed. My stomach twisted as I handed the phone back to him.

“I didn’t know,” I muttered, feeling a wave of guilt wash over me.

“I know,” Franco said, pocketing his phone. “By the time I was back on my feet, our chat on Raya was gone. I couldn’t reach you. Didn’t even know you were Carlos’s sister.”

I swallowed hard. Of course I deleted him first thing when I got home. “I figured you just... stood me up.”

Franco shook his head. “I never wanted to. I wanted to explain, but I didn’t know how and honestly... I didn’t want to make it worse. Honestly, I am so sorry Y/N. I did not handle this well at all.”

I stared at him, the anger and hurt I’d held onto for so long starting to unravel. “I just thought you were another guy playing games.”

“I wasn’t playing games,” Franco said, his voice soft but serious. 

I exhaled sharply, shaking my head. “If we are having a heart to heart, there is something I have to get off my chest as well.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

I took a deep breath, deciding it was time to tell the whole truth. “I’ve been traveling with Carlos because... well, because I didn’t really have a choice. I used to be a tennis player. A good one. But I had an injury—tore my ACL. It ended my career.”

Franco’s eyes softened as he listened.

“I’ve been a bit lost ever since. Carlos thought taking me to races would cheer me up, keep me busy,” I continued. “But that’s why I’m here. Not because I want to profit off of him.”

Franco’s expression shifted, guilt flickering across his face. “I didn’t know, Y/N. I... I’m sorry. I’ve been a jerk.”

“Yeah,” I said, my voice catching slightly. “You kind of have.”

There was a heavy silence between us as everything settled. The frustration, the misunderstandings, all the things we hadn’t said to each other. It felt like we were standing at the edge of something, ready to fall.

Franco’s voice was low when he finally spoke. “You think I don’t take anything seriously, but... I do. I’ve worked my ass off to get here, and I am trying so hard to make it to next year. But you keep talking like you’ve got me all figured out. Like I’m some shallow, cocky guy who just flirts his way through life.”

“Isn’t flirting your way through life exactly what you do, though?” I shot back, my frustration flaring again.

Franco’s eyes darkened. “No. But you wouldn’t know that because you never gave me a chance. You just made up your mind about me from the start.”

“Because all you’ve shown me is that side of you!” I snapped. “You literally flirted with every girl at the club tonight. How was I supposed to think otherwise?”

“Instead of judging me, you could just admit that you're jealous,” Franco fired back, his voice rising.

“Judging you? You’re the one who’s been making up stuff about me from the moment we met!” I shouted, the anger boiling over now. “While you don’t know anything about me!”

“¡Porque no me dejas conocerte!” Franco shouted back in Spanish, his voice raw. Because you won’t let me get to know you!

“¡No hay nada que conocer!” I yelled, my heart pounding. There’s nothing to get to know!

Franco stepped even closer, his eyes blazing. “¡No digas eso! Sé que hay más en ti. Lo he visto, pero siempre estás empujándome lejos.” Don’t say that! I know there’s more to you. I’ve seen it, but you keep pushing me away.

I clenched my fists, trying to hold back the flood of emotions. “¡No quiero que te acerques!” I don’t want you to get close!

“¿Por qué? ¿Porque te asusta?” Franco asked, his voice softer but still intense. Why? Because it scares you?

“¡Porque no confío en ti!” I shot back. Because I don’t trust you!

There was a beat of silence, both of us standing there, breathing heavily. The street was quiet around us, but the energy between us was electric, almost unbearable.

My breath caught in my throat.

“¡Eres tan... frustrante!” I yelled, my voice cracking. You’re so... frustrating!

“¿Sabes qué más eres?” Franco said, his voice lowering, his eyes burning into mine. “Eres tan sexy cuando te enojas.” You know what else you are? You’re so sexy when you’re angry.

The words hit me like a shockwave, and for a moment, I was too stunned to respond. Before I could even think, Franco closed the gap between us and kissed me.

It wasn’t just any kiss—it was fiery, intense, and filled with all the pent-up emotion we’d been holding back for what felt like weeks. His hands gripped my waist, pulling me closer, and I didn’t hesitate to kiss him back, all the frustration and tension melting away in that single moment.

His lips were soft. I melted into him, my hands instinctively reaching up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened.

When we finally broke apart, we were both breathing heavily, the weight of everything we hadn’t said hanging between us.

I stared at him, my mind racing. “Franco...”

He smiled, his hand still resting on my waist. “Finally.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, shaking my head. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you like it,” he said with a grin.

I didn’t argue.

We walked the rest of the way home in silence, but this time, the tension between us had shifted. There was no more anger, no more resentment—just something new, something that hadn’t been there before. My hand was still in Franco’s, and I hadn’t even thought about pulling it away.

The soft hum of the Monaco streets accompanied us as we approached Carlos’s apartment. The usual quiet after a night out seemed louder now, like it was filling the space where our words had been. My heart was still racing from the kiss, and every time Franco’s shoulder brushed mine, that warmth spread through me again.

I glanced over at him, catching him looking at me out of the corner of his eye. He smiled—a small, almost shy one—and I couldn’t help but smile back. That smug smirk he’d worn all night was gone, replaced with something softer. It was the first time I’d seen him look... real.

As we reached the entrance to the building, Franco opened the door for me, his hand gently resting on the small of my back as I stepped inside. The gesture was subtle, but it sent a wave of warmth through me.

Inside, the familiar scent of Carlos’s apartment hit me—clean, with a hint of cologne that always lingered in the air. The place was quiet, save for the faint sound of the ocean outside. It felt surreal, like everything that had happened tonight had been part of some strange dream.

Lando was, of course, sprawled out on the couch, his feet up, his phone in hand. The second we walked in, he glanced up, grinning like the Cheshire cat.

“Well, well, well,” he said, his voice dripping with amusement. “Look who finally made it home.”

I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t stop the smile from tugging at my lips. “Shut it, Norris.”

“Awww look at you, Y/N!” Lando replied, wiggling his eyebrows. “Blushing. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

Franco chuckled beside me, his hand still resting lightly on my lower back. “Nice work, Lando,” he called over his shoulder as we walked past Lando toward the hallway.

Lando just winked, not missing a beat. “What can I say? I have a gift.”

As we walked down the hallway toward the guest rooms, I felt the tension ease from my body, replaced by a strange kind of peace. Franco’s presence beside me didn’t feel overwhelming anymore. It felt... comforting.

“Do you want to go back to that rooftop restaurant?” Franco’s voice was soft, a whisper just between us as we stopped in front of my door.

I turned to face him, my heart doing a little flip at the thought. “Are you asking me on a second first date?”

He grinned, but it was different now. Less cocky, more sincere. “Yeah. A real one. No crashes, I promise.”

I smiled, leaning against the doorframe. “I’d like that.”

For a moment, neither of us moved, the weight of everything unsaid still lingering in the air. But instead of more words, Franco leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead before pulling back and meeting my eyes.

“Buenas noches, hermosa,” he whispered, his voice like a warm caress.

“Buenas noches, Franco,” I replied, my voice equally soft.

[navybrat817]

Feel the Pulse Beat: Intro

Pairing: Old Money!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: Bucky didn't want to go to Tony's club, but he'll be glad he did by the end of the night.

Word Count: Almost 2.3k

Warnings: Swearing, frenemy behavior, family issues, bit of world building, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?)

A/N: Oh, look, lovelies! A new AU no one asked for. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

“Why am I even here?” Bucky asked, eying the neon sign for Extremis. The one and only Tony Stark owned the club. A mix of people in clothes that ranged from expensive suits to revealing dresses stood in line with the hopes of getting in. “Because I have a car I could be working on as we speak.”

He could fit in at clubs, but he’d take greasing up his hands over dressing up any day. With cars, he didn’t have to pretend to be anything other than himself. There was no need to impress people who didn’t care about him beyond his name or fortune.

Steve, his best friend, sighed. “Because we promised Tony we’d show up. He’s our friend.”

“You promised, not me. He’s more your friend than mine and he acts like I wronged him in another life or something,” Bucky said. Tony didn't outright hate him, but didn’t seem to care for him and loved to give him a hard time. “I doubt he’ll notice if I skip this.”

“He will notice and he’s not that bad,” Steve said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I swear, between Tony and Sam, it’s like you go out of your way to not be friends with our friends.”

Bucky didn’t comment on Sam for the time being. “Not that bad? Tony has the biggest ego in the city. I’m surprised he didn’t call the place 'Anthony’s' or plaster his name all over the building,” he said, tilting his head. “Given the outside, it wouldn't surprise me if the inside was just as bad.”

Steve snorted, used to his humor after all these years. “You’re in a mood,” he said. Bucky didn’t deny it. “Let me guess: another argument with your dad?”

Bucky hesitated. “What else is new?” He wished he could clock the guy, but he was his old man.

George Barnes couldn’t wrap his mind around why his son preferred cars to the boardroom and networking. Or why he chose to “destroy” his body with tattoos. Or why he wasn't dating an elitist. It was like he couldn’t stand that Bucky wasn't just another version of him. Thank God for his mom who encouraged him to forge his own path and respected his choices.

And, yes, she occasionally allowed him access to the family funds if he wanted or needed them because she adored him.

“I'm sorry,” Steve said, clapping him on the shoulder.

They had grown up together, which meant they either witnessed or heard the ups and downs of their families. Steve wasn’t just his best friend, he was like a brother to him. He knew how his dad could get. And his dad was a good man most days, but he could also be a real pain in the ass.

“Don’t be. Not your fault,” he replied, looking at the sign again. “Never is.”

“It may not be my fault, but it doesn't mean I don’t care,” he said. He was lucky to have a friend like him. “Come on.”

Bucky felt eyes on them as they bypassed the line and approached the man at the door. Even if their names weren't on the list, the confidence he and his best friend carried would've been enough to pique the security’s curiosity. They also had enough money in their pockets to not necessarily flaunt their wealth, but to show that they had it. The same applied to their suits.

“Steve Rogers,” his best friend stated with just the right touch of pride. It was a fine line to walk between confidence and arrogance and he did it well. “And Bucky Barnes.”

“You’re on the list, but those aren’t the names the boss gave me and he won't let you in without them,” he said, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“Aww, that’s too bad.” Bucky shrugged. It was the kind of shit Tony liked to pull and he wasn't in the mood to play. “Let’s go, punk.”

Steve held out an arm to stop him. “Just wait, jerk,” he said, shaking his head as he looked at the bouncer. “Golden Boy and Tinman?”

The bouncer to his credit looked thoroughly unimpressed instead of amused when he stepped aside to let them in. Bucky grit his teeth anyway, anger coursing through his veins. “That fucking-”

“Hey. It’s just Tony being Tony.” Steve trying to placate him wasn't working. “It’s better than Cyborg, right?”

Tinman. Cyborg. Tony tried to say the nicknames were because his left sleeve looked like a metal arm, but the man said in passing once that he was cold. Heartless. Just because Bucky didn’t show his emotions to people he didn't care for didn’t mean he didn’t have them.

“Tony being Tony doesn’t give him a pass to be a dick, Golden Boy,” he said, holding up a finger. “One hour. You get one fucking hour.”

“Please, don’t call me that,” Steve begged. The man with a heart of gold to match his hair and a pair of fists ready to strike for anyone who needed defending. Everyone in their circle looked to him as a man who always tried to do the right thing. “And fine. One hour.”

As they walked further into the club, vibrant energy surrounded them. Red and yellow lights cast a warm glow to create a welcoming ambience, while plush seats and sleek decor added a touch of glamor and sultriness. The bar, illuminated and inviting, beckoned patrons to select their drinks. The music was perfectly balanced, not too loud or overwhelming, allowing for easy conversation amidst the lively atmosphere.

Bucky didn’t want to give Tony too much credit and make his head swell more, but it was a nice place.

“So, where are we sitting?” He asked.

As if on cue, a woman in a smart black dress approached. Not a single hair out of place. “Pepper, good to see you,” Steve smiled at her. Bucky recognized her now. Tony’s personal assistant, had been for years. She did her job well and the man’s schedule and life would fall apart if he didn’t have her around.

“Good to see you, too. And you two are the first to arrive,” she smiled. “Right this way, please.”

Bucky looked around again as Pepper led them to a quiet VIP area flanked by a couple of guards. The space was just as bright as the main room, but above the center table hung a large, modern crystal chandelier: a focal point that hinted at the Stark fortune. The small stage set up at the back of the room surprised him. Was it for performers or merely for show?

“About time you showed up,” a voice interrupted his thoughts. Tony Stark, the man himself, sat in the middle of a sofa with a glass of whiskey in hand. With his three piece suit and perfectly trimmed dark goatee, he looked very much like the king of one of his many castles. Even had on a pair of his signature sunglasses because who didn't like wearing sunglasses indoors? “Or did it take you old men a while to figure out the names? Told Sy not to let you in without them.”

An apologetic look crossed Pepper’s face. “For the record, I told him not to do that,” she said, gesturing for them to sit. Bucky opted to sit in a chair that he didn't want to admit was extremely comfortable. “But he never listens to me.”

“You still love me,” Tony called after her as she left the area. “No hard feelings about the nicknames, right? It’s all in good fun.”

Bucky huffed as Steve took a seat beside Tony, effectively dividing them. “First the nicknames, and now you call us old men? You look older than we do,” Bucky said, pointing to Tony’s hair. “In fact, I think I see some gray you missed on your dye job.”

As Bucky got older, he had come to love the gray in his own beard and hair. It was a good look. Maybe the right girl would appreciate it.

Tony rolled his eyes. “Barnes. Always a pleasure.”

“Stark,” he said, baring his teeth in a wolfish grin. “Never a pleasure.”

“Cut it out,” Steve chastised, giving Bucky an exasperated look, which only earned him a shrug in response. Did he expect him to play nice when he didn't want to be there? “Tony, the place looks great.”

“Of course it does, Rogers. Did you expect anything less? Though it’s always nice to get a compliment from you.” Tony set his drink down and tapped the screen of his phone, causing the red and yellow lights to switch to blue and white. “That’s your cue, Barnes.”

“Nice lights,” he mumbled, leaning his chin on his hand. One hour…

Tony scoffed. “Would it kill you to give a real compliment, or are you holding back because I own it?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Does my opinion even matter? You already think it’s perfect. I’m sure everyone else has kissed your ass about it, and I don’t feel like chapping my lips.”

Tony sat up straighter. “If I really wanted my ass kissed, I’d call your little sister,” he sneered, nudging Steve’s arm. “She’s free, right?”

“Tony, stop.” Steve warned when Bucky's jaw clenched.

“What?” Tony smirked more. “I heard she just got out of a relationship and maybe I can help her get over that broken heart.”

Bucky almost got out of his seat. Becca was a sweetheart and Tony didn't deserve to breathe the same air as her. “You even think about touching her, I’ll break your fucking-”

“Hey! That’s enough.” Steve sounded pissed off enough that they shut up. “Tony, he’s not trying to be a dick. He just wanted to work on a car tonight. Doesn't mean you need to bring his sister into it,” Steve said to Tony in a calmer tone, giving Bucky another look. “And you know he wouldn't fool around with Becca. You’re letting your fight with your dad get to you.”

Bucky slowly exhaled. “I know.” He felt a pinch of guilt. He had let his dad sour his mood and dismissed Tony’s club when Tony was at least nice enough to extend an invitation. It also wasn't fair to make Steve play referee when he deserved a fun night. “And I think we’re all varying degrees of dicks here.”

Unexpected respect and understanding filled Tony’s eyes, replacing his usual disdain. “Rather tinker with something than hang out here? I get it. And asshole fathers, I get that, too,” he said, downing the remainder of his glass. Bucky had nearly forgotten that Tony had issues with his own dad. “But let’s be serious, we all know I’m the biggest dick here.”

That brought a chuckle out of all three of them. It was the closest thing to an apology. “I would drink to that if I had one,” Bucky joked.

Tony tapped the screen of his phone again in a short pattern and the middle of the table rose up to reveal a decanter and empty glasses. “Top shelf and on the house even though you can afford it.”

“We’re still going to tip. You can give it to the staff working tonight,” Steve offered, pouring each of them a glass and passing one over. “And now that we’ve gotten some of the unpleasantness out of the way, can we get on with the evening? Please?”

The men nodded, but Bucky still needed more than one stiff drink to get him through the hour. At least Tony brought out the good stuff for them to indulge. “I have to ask, where are the rest of your friends?” He expected the VIP section to be overflowing with his usual crowd instead of being nearly empty.

“On their way,” Tony said, waving a hand toward the stage. “I wanted you two to get a private show with my new star because I have a feeling you’ll appreciate her talent more than the others. And when I say this one is special, I mean it. Voice and body of an angel. Or a siren. Whatever you’re into.”

Bucky and Steve exchanged a look. A new star? That was why he wanted them to stop by? “Have you slept with her?” Steve asked pointedly. Bucky almost asked the same question. Tony had a reputation for a reason and being a member of his staff wouldn’t stop him from trying.

“Nope. Not this one. Not for lack of trying,” Tony said, checking the time before the lights dimmed. “She told me to ‘kindly fuck off’ when I hit on her and I gave her a raise because why the hell not?”

Bucky’s eyebrows shot up. “She turned you down? I like her already,” He smirked, instantly intrigued by this mystery woman who didn't fall for Tony’s charms like so many others. “I may even have to buy her a drink.”

“Just wait ‘til you hear her sing, Tinman,” Tony said, resting back against the sofa. “Even you will love her.”

A spotlight illuminated the stage when soft music began to play. The curtain opened wide enough for a stunning figure in a long red dress to step through. Bucky leaned forward in his chair, captivated by your beauty. His heart raced, and his throat went dry as your gaze met his. He tightened his grip on the glass, nearly downing it in one gulp as you moved toward the microphone, but couldn't look away as you smiled.

Where the hell did Tony find someone so enchanting?

Bucky waited with bated breath before you began to sing. One note. That was all it took. He was lost. Gone.

Yours.

Oh, I just had to end the intro there. 😇 I wonder what our reader is like and what she'll think of Bucky. @targaryenvampireslayer @yenzys-lucky-charm @ghotifishreads @tavners @holacia3 a certain edit may come into play later... 😏 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[lehnsherrrr]

Here’s a collection of all the gayest cherik gifs I could find, with a description for why each one of them is gay because micro movements and body language are my favourite. (I’m autistic and focus on details instead of the big picture.)

First things first.

The way he’s just STARING, and he does this a lot, like pretty much always. But as Charles turns, Erik stays in the same place, meaning he is now weirdly close to him. The only place he could look is Charles neck and jawline, which is CRAZY, but what’s crazier is how he does it so confidently.

Charles goes to put his arm up, but decides not too. Even after this I’m pretty sure he has his arm around Erik anyway, but it’s actually gayer that Charles had a moment to think ‘Wait I shouldn’t put my arm there. He could’ve just done it, but instead he had to think about it.

The calm before the violence. The way Charles sees them both there, then actually realises it’s Erik, and his eyes light up. Also love the way you can see Erik’s reflection, it’s beautiful.

But of course that tender love that came so instinctively immediately washes away as the past 10 years come flooding back. But for just a moment, the shock of seeing Erik again made him forget about the pain.

Also see, Erik’s moment of recognition. This isn’t the pretty shiny professor big eyes, soft face, and love radiating from him. This is a tired grizzled man, a whole 10 years older, no longer prim and proper, no longer the star student. And also in this moment, Charles doesn’t have his powers, so Erik also can’t feel those constant rays of love being sent from him, which he so heavily associated with him. He might even only recognise him because they’re face to face, but he still manages it, cause how could he ever forget Charles.

More on that previous idea, here Erik immediately recognises Charles from just the presence of him alone. It’s been another 10 years, Charles hasn’t even spoken, and Erik already knows he’s there.

Think of it, him going through all this darkness and pain, standing there wallowing in a shadow. And then suddenly, there’s a light. That beam of love that he hadn’t felt for over 20 years now, but it’s stuck with Erik, because he holds onto it so dearly.

These two gifs together. If these are the brotherly friend enemies bros that the movies were supposed to portray them as, then there was absolutely no reason for either of them to be so stricken with emotion about the other that they are brought to tears.

You can feel it if you look at them here, you can feel your heart ache as theirs do. There are words unspoken, tears spilling out as they think about the other, thinking about coming back together.

Okay easing up from the heartbreak. Aftercare for the emotional rawdogging I just put you through.

Look at this hoe. GIRL LOOK AWAY??? FOR ONE SECOND??? I don’t think Charles even feels that strongly for Erik in this moment, but Erik sure does. Look at him, the pure admiration in his eyes. Terrible.

In this part of the film, Erik is still in awe at Charles. Everything Charles does is so full of love, Erik can’t even comprehend it. Especially that this love was being directed towards him, towards people Charles didn’t even know. He’s dumbstruck.

And then this. What. Girl. WHAT.

As a queer person, it’s rare that I have such an intensely gay moment. Look at it. There’s not even tension here, they’re so relaxed.

But now think about this. How did they get there?? Which of them suggested it?????

One of them would’ve had to ask to hang out with the other. Alone.

Then I bet it was Erik who said “excellent idea I’ll bring the chess set.”

And then they wondered around looking for a place to sit and thought “hm yes those big white steps beside a beautiful view of water looks perfect, we’d be very alone there!”

And then they both would’ve walked up those steps, and sat down to play chess.

and THEN.

Charles would’ve eventually leaned back. But he didn’t just lean back, he leaned towards Erik. Look at the way he’s laying, he’s so relaxed.

You ever been by yourself and realise you’re sat in the weirdest position? Hanging out with a close friend or partner, this will also happen.

Charles isn’t aware of how he’s sat, he just did it cause he’s relaxed and comfortable.

And they ain’t even playing chess.

It’s either Charles or Erik’s turn, and I’m not even sure if they know whose turn it is. Erik is yapping about politics, and Charles is listening but also staring at him instead of the view.

Also note the way that Erik doesn’t look at Charles here. He is looking at his thoughts as he speaks (a very neurodivergent thing to do). And if he is always looking at the thing he’s thinking about, then that explains what he’s thinking about when he’s looking at Charles.

I mean really Michael Fassbender, what was your thought process when acting out these scenes.

I went to acting school for a very large part of my life (absolutely traumatic) and the most important thing in acting is to not just do what the character is doing. You have to think it, believe it.

So tell me Michael Fassbender, what was Erik thinking as you stared longingly at James’ jaw, eyes, neck. When you looked him up and down, when you touched him so gently.

You made those decisions, you knew what you were doing. Actors always have the final say.

ONE LAST THING.

This happens so many times I couldn’t find just one gif, and I also met the gif maximum.

There are so many moments in all of the films where Erik and Charles just stare at each other. I thoroughly believe they are talking telepathically in those moments. When they stare at each other at the strip club? They’re saying something about Angel. It’s obvious.

I actually really like the way the film doesn’t tell us what they’re saying, cause they’re so obviously speaking and we don’t even need to hear it. Charles is a telepath, you don’t just stare into a telepaths big blue eyes and have no thoughts in your head. And a telepath doesn’t just stare at you and not project anything. That’s so unrealistic.

Also see this post to see how gently Erik touches Charles (and one time he doesn’t) ((wish that was me AWOOGA))

Need to rest my hands now this one knackered me. If you have any other gifs of those little moments, PLEASE SEND THEM TO MEEEEEE

[dissapointu]

how about arcane characters with a s/o that has a cat companion. Like his cat is seen everywhere they can go, on there shoulders, runs to the market, gang shootouts( for some of the more morally grey characters in zaun.) ect. The cat is very protective of there s/o and was hesitant when they first met the characters in question, but the the less is a good boy/girl.

A protective, ride-or-die cat as your constant companion? ICONIC. This little feline bodyguard is out here stealing hearts and taking names, while also being suspicious of anyone who gets too close to you. Spoiler alert: they’re gonna be OBSESSED.

Jinx

Jinx would be INSTANTLY fascinated by your cat.

• The first meeting? Pure chaos. Your cat hisses, and Jinx hisses back just to mess with it. “Oh, so YOU’RE the boss here, huh? Let’s see how long THAT lasts!”

• Once your cat warms up, Jinx is smitten, carrying it around like a baby while saying stuff like, “We’re gonna blow stuff up together, kitty. You’re in the gang now.”

• She’d build it little accessories, like goggles or a harness for “maximum chaos.” (“Every sidekick needs gear, babe!”)

• During fights, Jinx is cackling as your cat perches on your shoulder like a tiny warlord. “Look at us—unstoppable!”

Vi

Vi would think it’s hilarious at first, but the cat’s loyalty earns her respect.

• The first time the cat hisses at her, Vi raises an eyebrow and smirks. “Feisty little thing, aren’t you? Just like your owner.”

• Once she gains the cat’s trust, she’s giving it belly rubs and calling it tough-sounding nicknames like “Scrapper” or “Claws.”

• She LOVES how the cat follows you everywhere, even into sketchy situations. “Guess I’ve got competition for best protector, huh?”

• If anyone messes with you, she’s jokingly like, “Back off before my partner—or their cat—tears you apart.”

Sevika

Sevika would be skeptical at first, but the cat would win her over.

• The initial meeting? Your cat hisses, Sevika laughs. “This one’s got guts. I like it.”

• Eventually, your cat starts curling up on her lap while she’s playing cards or sharpening her arm, and Sevika’s like, “You better not tell anyone about this.”

• She secretly respects how loyal and fearless the cat is, especially during high-stakes situations. “That furball’s got more spine than half the people I know.”

• Sevika would jokingly side-eye the cat whenever it interrupts your time together. “I get it—you’re the favorite.”

Silco

Silco would be intrigued by your cat’s protective nature but would take his time earning its trust.

• The first time the cat hisses at him, he just raises an eyebrow and calmly says, “Loyalty. A rare trait.”

• Once the cat warms up, Silco quietly appreciates its presence, occasionally letting it lounge in his office or sit on his desk.

• He admires how the cat mirrors your loyalty, seeing it as an extension of your character. “A creature so devoted is a reflection of its owner.”

• Silco would lowkey enjoy the cat’s protective instincts, smirking when it growls at anyone who gets too close to you.

Vander

Vander would LOVE your cat and its unwavering loyalty.

• The first meeting? Vander just chuckles when the cat hisses at him. “Alright, alright—I’ll win you over eventually.”

• He’d bribe the cat with scraps from the bar until it starts curling up next to him while he works. “See? Told you we’d be friends.”

• Vander appreciates how the cat follows you everywhere, especially in dangerous situations. “Good to know someone’s always got your back, even when I’m not there.”

• He’s always sneaking the cat treats, saying, “You keep looking out for ‘em, and I’ll keep looking out for you.”

Ekko

Ekko would LOVE your cat’s adventurous spirit.

• When the cat hisses at him, Ekko laughs and holds up his hands. “Okay, okay—I get it. You’re the boss.”

• Once the cat warms up, he’s geeking out over how cool it is, building it little toys out of scrap and playing with it whenever he gets the chance.

• He admires how the cat sticks with you through thick and thin, even during Firelight missions. “Your cat’s tougher than half my crew. Respect.”

• Ekko would probably try to teach the cat tricks, joking that it’s your team’s new mascot.

Jayce

Jayce would think your cat is the CUTEST thing ever.

• The first time the cat hisses at him, Jayce gasps dramatically. “Hey! I’m one of the good guys!”

• He’d try so hard to win the cat over, and when it finally lets him pet it, he’s grinning like a kid. “See? We’re friends now!”

• He loves how the cat sticks by your side no matter what, always making jokes like, “Your bodyguard’s doing a great job. I don’t even need to be here!”

• Jayce would probably try to invent something cool for the cat, like a heated bed or a high-tech collar.

Viktor

Viktor would be fascinated by your cat’s loyalty and behavior.

• The first time the cat growls at him, he tilts his head and says softly, “I suppose trust must be earned.”

• When the cat warms up, Viktor starts absentmindedly petting it while working, smiling softly when it purrs. “A loyal companion… quite remarkable.”

• He admires how the cat follows you everywhere, even into risky situations. “It seems I’m not the only one who values your presence so deeply.”

• Viktor would probably get distracted by the cat while working, letting it sit on his desk and bat at his tools.

Caitlyn

Caitlyn would be absolutely charmed by your cat and its devotion.

• The first time it hisses at her, she just smiles and steps back. “Fair enough—I’d probably be wary of me, too.”

• Once the cat accepts her, she’s all about giving it gentle head pats and sneaking it little treats.

• Caitlyn loves how the cat sticks with you everywhere, often teasing you like, “I think your companion’s better at keeping you safe than I am.”

• If the cat ever senses danger, Caitlyn takes it seriously, trusting its instincts completely.

Mel Medarda

Mel would be intrigued by your cat’s presence and loyalty.

• When the cat growls at her, she just chuckles and says, “Protective, aren’t we? I can respect that.”

• Once the cat warms up, she lets it sit in her lap during meetings, occasionally stroking its fur as she works.

• She admires the bond you have with the cat, seeing it as a reflection of your strength and loyalty. “A creature so devoted is rare. You must be someone truly special.”

• Mel would probably spoil the cat, commissioning a luxurious collar or bed for it.

Ambessa Medarda

Ambessa would find your cat’s loyalty both amusing and impressive.

• The first time the cat hisses at her, she smirks and says, “A bold one. I like that.”

• Once the cat accepts her, she quietly grows fond of it, often letting it sit beside her during quiet moments.

• She respects how the cat stays by your side no matter what, especially in dangerous situations. “You’ve chosen your allies well—even the furry ones.”

• Ambessa would probably train the cat to follow commands, just to see how far its loyalty goes.

Maddie Nolen

Maddie would immediately be soft for your cat.

• The first time it hisses at her, she’d laugh nervously and say, “Alright, tough guy—I’ll win you over eventually.”

• When the cat warms up, she’s constantly sneaking it treats and letting it curl up on her lap.

• Maddie loves how the cat is always by your side, often joking like, “You’ve got the best backup anyone could ask for.”

• If you’re ever upset, Maddie’s probably cuddling you and the cat at the same time, whispering, “We’re both here for you.”

Lest

Lest would be enchanted by your cat and its loyalty.

• When the cat growls at her, she just smiles and says softly, “It’s alright—I understand. I’ll wait until you’re ready.”

• Once the cat warms up, she’s gently stroking its fur and murmuring little compliments like, “Aren’t you a beautiful one?”

• She admires how the cat sticks by your side no matter what, seeing it as a sign of your kind and dependable nature.

• Lest would quietly make sure the cat feels as loved and cared for as you are.

[rothpie]

❝FIDELITY❞ |part3

MASTERLIST -`✮´- Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader x JJ Maybank

Summary: Kook!Reader’s world is upended by betrayal, and her only way forward might lie with the most unlikely person—JJ Maybank. But as they build a new life together, old flames and past mistakes refuse to stay buried.

Warnings: arguing, mentioning of using drugs and alcohol, mentioning abortion,

previous - next

It was harder than you'd thought. Rejection wasn’t something you’d faced often in life. You’d had flings, breakups, even heartbreaks, but nothing like this—nothing that tore you apart quite like this. You weren’t feeling the sting of a simple breakup; it was closer to betrayal. There was no cheating, no outright cruelty, but his words had cut so deeply, you would’ve chosen physical pain over this if you could.

You felt abandoned. It wasn't just a feeling; it was the reality now. But it wasn’t an ordinary sense of abandonment. This wasn’t a wound you could mend or a heartbreak you could simply heal from.

The regrets wouldn’t stop circling your mind. If only you’d been more careful. If only you’d taken the pill. If only we’d been more cautious from the start. If only you hadn’t told him.

If only you weren’t pregnant.

There weren’t many people you could turn to. Who could you trust with this? Who could be your confidant if not him? And if even he wouldn’t support you—your boyfriend, your best friend—then who would?

The regrets wouldn’t let you rest. You hadn’t even wanted this. You hadn’t considered the possibility, hadn’t imagined it. You’d dreamed about marrying him, maybe— just maybe, in some future vision of your life. You’d daydreamed about your future together on quiet nights, but that vision had never included getting pregnant at twenty.

So why was this happening to you? Why you? Why hadn’t you just taken the pill like you were supposed to? Why hadn’t you protected?

The questions were endless, and though they came from you, you already knew the answers. The truth was, you felt like a fool. Only a fool would forget to take her pills.

Even if you had been careful, you would’ve still needed to do more. And now, there was a child growing inside you.

You hated blaming yourself entirely, but you couldn’t help it. If you hadn’t taken your pill, he hadn’t used protection either. You were both at fault. If he could so easily shrug off responsibility, why should you be the one left to bear it?

Why did it have to be you carrying this?

Why was everything so difficult? The relationship had been good, and you loved him—even now, you still love him. So, why? Why couldn’t fate, life, or whatever this was, ever go your way?

You could’ve brushed this off as fate, but that would’ve been too easy. You knew the responsibility lay with you and him, both.

You should’ve known better. You knew right from wrong. It was a simple rule: if you can’t swim, you’ll drown. If you jump off a balcony, you’ll fall. If you play with fire, you’ll get burned. If you don’t use protection, you’ll get pregnant.

It was the same story. So why had you thrown yourself into the fire, knowing full well what could happen?

Each breath felt tighter. Every second, the ache in your chest seemed to grow, like it had taken up permanent residence there.

His words wouldn’t leave your mind. You didn’t even know if it was his words or his expression that hurt more. He hadn’t even responded. You understood he wasn’t ready to be a father. But you weren’t ready to be a mother either. So why were you the one left bearing the weight of this?

If you shared the blame, so did he. He hadn’t been thinking of fatherhood when he chose not to use protection, so why should you be the one now to face the consequences alone?

He should’ve been here for you. Despite everything, he should’ve been here, by your side.

You could get an abortion. You hadn’t decided yet. But shouldn’t he have supported you in that? It was his child too, wasn’t it? So why did you feel as though you were going through this alone?

He said he wanted you… How generous of him. Thank you so much.

He wanted you but not what you came with—not what was his too.

That was one of the hardest parts. You’d loved all of him. The good, the bad, the fights, the drinking, the highs and lows—you’d seen it all. And you’d never left— though maybe you should have.

You were pregnant. This was the child you’d created together. How could he leave you like this, knowing he was your whole world?

That was the truth. He was the one who made you feel human. You weren’t just a precious jewel in his eyes—or so you’d thought.

But at the first sign of trouble, he ran. He was a coward. Yes, a coward. There was no other word for it. He hadn’t become a man; he’d stayed a boy. And he was the reason your heart ached, the fire in your chest.

You couldn’t believe it. Would he really just leave? If you decided to have this child, would he really not be there? Would he really not want his own child?

And what would you tell the baby? What would you say to a child growing up without a father?

You’d picked up the mess. You’d put back the furniture Rafe had thrown around, cleaned everything up. It all felt worthless now, like it held no meaning. Your heart was already broken enough. Hours had passed, but you hadn’t left the couch. You’d sat there, facing your heartbreak, thinking, trying to decide—trying to act as if you were prepared to make such a choice.

You didn’t know if you wanted this or not. There were pros and cons, sure. But you couldn’t even think straight. Your mind kept drifting back to Rafe, to the look in his eyes as he spoke, to the way he’d hinted at an abortion, as if it were such a simple thing.

As if it were easy.

You didn’t know how long you sat there, in the darkest place you’d ever been. You didn’t know if you’d ever be able to pull yourself out of it. And you still had to tell two more people. Your parents.

You decided to end it today. You were exhausted and overwhelmed, but you wanted this off your chest. You couldn’t handle any more secrets, any more uncertainty. Whatever their reaction, you didn’t feel strong enough to care. You’d been hit once already; you could take a second blow and get it over with.

At least then, one more worry would be gone. Maybe the weight inside you would lift, even if only a little.

Even if it just made room for more sorrow.

It was fall, but despite the warm days, your body felt frozen. Your hands clenched tightly, fingers interlocked. In the middle of a sunny day, it was as if you were standing alone in a snowstorm. There was no one to save you, no one to listen.

Maybe you didn’t even deserve to be heard. You’d made a mistake. But did you really have to be the only one to carry the blame? Would Rafe even tell his family?

Of course not. He barely existed in his father’s eyes already. He could stay silent forever if it meant he wouldn’t fall even further in his father’s esteem.

Coward.

You were a coward too. But you didn’t want to be one anymore. You hated it, but you needed someone by your side. You needed someone to support you. You were alone.

When you heard the door open, your eyes shut instinctively. They were finally home. You’d say it quickly and be free. You didn’t want any more lies, any more secrets. Let them know, and let this be over.

You hated every second of it.

It felt like the world had slowed down. They called your name, walked over to you, asking if you were alright, and you grew weary of hearing it. Because you weren’t, and they could see it. Their daughter was breaking down in front of them, and maybe she needed to be.

Everything happened so quickly. They asked you a few questions, trying to get some answers. Your dad leaned in, tightly clasping your hands together—so tightly you hadn't even realized it.

Your mom stood a little behind him, watching you with anxious eyes. Her brows were raised, her tear-brimming eyes wide with shock. She knew you were going through something. Anyone would have noticed; they just hadn’t spoken to you about it. They’d only ever discussed it amongst themselves.

“Should we call 911?” your mom asked. Your eyes were on her. They probably still suspected you were using drugs. You weren’t sure how to say it, but this couldn’t stay inside you anymore. Whatever was eating you up had to come out.

“No, don’t be ridiculous,” your dad responded firmly. He hated hospitals, and the idea of his daughter going to one over an overdose scared him more. As he asked you a few more questions, his brow furrowed, and you took a deep breath.

You needed them to be here with you. You needed your family’s support. You prayed. You begged God to keep them by your side, to have them say, ‘We’re here for you.’ You needed someone at your back. Kids don’t fall when their father’s behind them. And so you prayed, without stopping.

As your eyes started to fill with tears, your dad’s stern expression softened. He said your name with such gentleness, trying to understand what was happening. He gently rubbed your palms as your chest heaved with deep, shaky breaths.

When tears started streaming down your face, you lowered your head involuntarily. The sound of your sobs became the only noise in the room, and your family stared at you in surprise.

‘Please,’ you thought. ‘Please be on my side.’

Your dad held your hands tightly, while your mom’s eyes began to fill with tears too. You hadn’t always been such a loving family. You’d barely managed to express your love to one another, but this had to be your chance. This had to be your chance to feel like a family again.

“I’m pregnant.” The words slipped out again, for the second time today, interrupted by your sobs. Your eyes shut, and tears rolled down your cheeks. You waited for their reaction, but there was only silence.

The room fell into an eerie stillness. Your mom’s eyes widened, and then a look of disbelief spread across her face before she let out a short, harsh laugh.

“Pregnant?” Her tone was mocking, her mouth twisting into a bitter smile. She turned away, took a deep breath, and reached for the clip in her hair, letting it fall loose. Her head was already beginning to ache. “Please tell me this is some kind of sick joke.”

When you finally opened your eyes, you felt your dad’s hands slip away from yours. Your hands trembled, and you felt that same sinking feeling—that you’d lost something. You were losing the other most important people in your life.

Shaking your head, you denied that it was a joke. Pulling your legs up onto the couch, you hugged your knees tightly, took a deep breath, and used your hands to wipe the tears from your cheeks. When you looked up, you met your father’s disbelieving eyes as he quickly stood, took a few steps back, and turned his back to you, as though he couldn’t bear to look.

He didn’t turn back. He didn’t speak. Your mom’s angry chuckles filled the room. She couldn’t believe it. How could her daughter be this reckless?

Finally, your dad turned to you and leaned forward, his expression hard and resolute. “How could you be so careless?” he demanded, his tone sharp with disappointment that made you wince. “What were you thinking!”

His raised voice made you close your eyes. Hugging your knees even tighter, you buried your face in them. Stupid. That’s what you were.

Couldn’t they just be there for you? This hurt so much.

Your mom shook her head in disbelief, still mocking. She’d always tried to look out for you, but you’d found a way to mess things up again… She just couldn’t believe it. “Honestly, what did you expect would happen? This isn’t some minor mistake. This… this changes everything. How could you be so thoughtless?”

Her voice wasn’t just filled with horror—it was laced with bewilderment too. With all the options for protection out there, how could you let this happen? Hadn’t you thought at all about yourself, about your future?

Your cheeks flushed as you struggled to pull yourself together. What could you even say? No matter what, you were wrong, and stupid. “I didn’t plan this,” you whispered, barely audible. You were terrified, but you couldn’t show it. You were so afraid you were shaking, feeling like if you tried to stand, you’d collapse. “And I don’t even know what I’m going to do. I haven’t decided yet…”

Your mom’s eyes widened in a mix of horror and disgust. She couldn’t believe her daughter had done something like this. Sex was one thing. She’d done it herself in her youth, but getting pregnant? At your age? You hadn’t even decided what to do with your future, whether to go to college, whether to take over the family business… and now you were pregnant? Already? “You don’t know? You don’t know!” she repeated, her voice rising. “How can you not know? This is serious! You can’t just get pregnant and then—and then not have a plan. What were you thinking?”

Tears kept rolling down your face, but you held on tightly, determined not to crumble under her harsh gaze. You lifted a hand to your mouth, and once you managed to gather yourself and take a deep breath, you spoke again. “I’m trying to figure things out. I… I don’t know if I’m ready— Mom—please…”

You just needed her to be there. Just her, no one else. That would be enough. With her and your dad by your side, you felt like you could handle anything. You were an adult now, but in your heart, you still longed to be a child again, to be held, to have your head stroked for hours as they told you it would all be okay. 

You’d settle for even one hug.

All you needed was for her to be there. Just them, no one else. That would be enough. You felt that you could face anything with their support. You knew she didn’t see you as a five-year-old girl anymore. You were an adult, but you needed them to hold you, to stroke your head for hours and tell you everything would be okay. Even one hug would have been enough.

Your father’s lips tightened into a thin line, his voice cold and full of disappointment. He looked angry, his face flushed red as he took deep breaths. Rolling up his sleeves as if to calm himself down, he finally spoke. "So what’s the plan? Just toying with the idea of motherhood to see if it suits you? This is real life. You can’t just keep making stupid decisions and expect us to pick up the pieces.”

Your mother’s eyes gleamed with sharp disappointment. She’d expected better from you. She would have even accepted you saying that you wanted to become a tattoo artist, but you had already done the worst thing you could to yourself. She was already afraid to ask if the father would even be in the picture. "You should have thought about this before. And now you’re dragging us into this—what do you expect? That we’ll support you in a decision you haven’t even made yet?"

You couldn’t say a word. You had truly expected that. You had wanted them to be by your side. You had prayed for it, but it hadn’t come to pass. This was the second blow you’d taken in a single day. Who knew how much more you could endure. When your hand went to your stomach, the tears in your eyes blurred your vision as your lids shut tight.

The fact that there was a baby inside you had already caused an explosion in your life. The people you had were no longer beside you—they stood across from you. They weren’t supporting you; they were opposing you.

Your mother took a deep breath, turned around, and pulled out her phone from her bag. “You’re getting an abortion,” she said without even looking at you. When you quickly turned to face her, she didn’t meet your gaze. Your father sat in an armchair, rubbing his temple. Neither of them looked at you. “I’ll change countries if I have to! I’ll even change your citizenship if necessary, but you’re getting an abortion!” Her voice was harsh, almost too rapid to understand.

That decision should have been yours. You should have been the one to make it. You didn’t want to be forced into it because someone else told you to—you wanted to do it because you wanted it. It had to be your choice. “No—”

“I didn’t raise you to be like this!” The moment you started speaking, she raised her head from her phone and yelled. The skin under her eyes was red, her hair disheveled. She didn’t look well. She seemed out of it. She threw her phone onto the couch beside her, thumping her chest with her hand. “I—” Her eyes filled with tears. You were the one who had brought her to this state.

“This is reckless! Beyond disappointing! What are you going to do? Stay home forever and take care of a child? And what—have four or five more? What’s going to happen to your future? You may think of… of keeping that thing, but I also have to think of my own daughter!” She pushed her hair back as she sat down, her eyes fixed on the floor as she tried to catch her breath.

“What about the father—” his voice was harsh, as if he were struggling to contain herself. He already knew it was Rafe. He just didn’t want to say his name, especially since he hadn’t been by your side as you told your family. “What does that son of a bitch think about this?” Her eyes turned to you.

You couldn’t answer. Your lips started to tremble even more as you looked away. Your father, as if he could read your mind, seemed to understand. His eyes narrowed, and he let out a bitter laugh.

“Of course,” he said. If he could have, he looked like he’d choke Rafe with his bare hands. He was probably forcing himself not to head over to Tannyhill right now.

"I can’t believe it… I really can’t. I didn’t raise you like this! Do you understand? I didn’t raise you—" You couldn’t take it anymore. Everything was crashing down on you. Why couldn’t they just hold you close and tell you it would be okay? You just wanted to feel safe, to have them tell you it would all pass. But the words hurt, and you wiped the tears from your cheeks, interrupting him.

You tried to swallow the pain, but the sting of rejection lodged itself deep in your chest. “I’m not perfect!” you shouted, your voice shaking. You couldn’t hold it back anymore. Sitting up straighter, you looked at him. "And maybe I don’t know what I want yet. But that doesn’t give you the right to make me feel worthless."

Your mom’s expression softened slightly, though a cold edge still lingered in her gaze. “We’re not saying you’re worthless. This isn’t a fairy tale with a happy ending where everything magically works out. You have no idea what you’re doing.” She took another deep breath, reaching for her phone again. “You’re getting an abortion, and—” Her words hung in the air as an overwhelming numbness washed over you, pressing down until you could barely breathe. A weight settled on your chest, filling every part of your mind with a relentless sense of shame.

“This is my life! Whatever I want— that’s what will happen! It’s my choice!” The room seemed to close in on you, the walls pressing closer, each word echoing mockingly in your mind. Every bit of support or warmth you’d hoped to feel dissolved, replaced by the harsh realization that you were utterly alone in this.

“Are you stupid? What are you going to do with a baby that has no father? You’re twenty!” You hadn’t even said you were keeping it. All you wanted was time. You just wanted to choose for yourself. Your hands started to shake, and you didn’t even notice when your nails dug into your palms. You’d braced yourself for disappointment, but nothing could have prepared you for the cold, piercing rejection you were facing. The air felt thick, heavy, saturated with the lost hopes you could almost feel slipping through your fingers. Each word felt like a blow, sinking deeper until all you felt was a dull, aching emptiness.

“A baby at twenty is disgraceful! People will talk behind your back! They’ll judge you! Do you really want to—"

You couldn’t listen anymore. You just couldn’t. You’d braced yourself for anything, but you hadn’t known it would feel like this. You just wanted to leave, and so you did. Standing up, you headed for the door without looking back. You heard your mother and father’s voices, but you didn’t turn. The sun was still shining outside.

You’d heard every word you were going to hear. They didn’t want it. Your mom didn’t want it. Your dad didn’t want it. Rafe didn’t want it. End of the story. You wouldn’t listen anymore.

But what about you? Everyone had said everything they wanted, but what did you want? What would make you happy?

You walked, breathing in the fresh air without knowing where you were going. Your tears had dried on your cheeks; there wasn’t a single drop left in you. You looked around, listened to the birds. Your feet carried you forward, without thought or direction.

You should be the one making decisions about your life. So why did everyone in it feel entitled to take over? It was your body, and only yours. You weren’t sharing it with Rafe, or your parents. The choice was yours to make.

Couldn’t they just listen to you, for once? They’d assumed you wanted this baby— all you wanted was time.

When you reached the beach, you slipped off your shoes without a second thought, walking barefoot in the sand. You sat down in the first spot that felt right, letting yourself just feel. You soaked in the sound of the waves, the warmth of the sun on your skin, the slight chill of the breeze— basking in that pleasant mixture of coolness and warmth.

You just wanted to be alone. All the hits you’d taken today weighed heavily on you. You just wanted to hear yourself think, for once. Not in a dark room, but with the sun on your skin. Not in silence, but with every sound around you. The sea, the birds, the children’s laughter… you wanted it all. You wanted to be greedy.

“Sunbathing?” At the sound of the voice, you opened your eyes and looked up quickly. Blond hair dripping wet, water streaming down his whole body— JJ. Of course he’d show up right in this vulnerable moment, right?

He walked toward you but stopped just short, as if maintaining some distance. His eyes gleamed with that familiar mischief, and he lifted his hands as if to keep you at arm’s length. “You’re not, like, covid positive or anything, are you?” The same old joke, asked again weeks later, completely shattering any peace you’d started to feel.

You rolled your eyes and got up to leave, and he fell into step behind you immediately. “Okay, okay, okay! I’ll shut up.” When he reached out and lightly grabbed your arm, you flinched from the coldness of his hand. You turned to face him, catching the grin on his face as he pushed his hair back.

A quiet pause fell between you as you glanced toward the ocean. He must’ve been out surfing. The sun was nearly setting, and the water was getting rougher. But you could feel his eyes on you, never wavering for a second. “Do you always cry this much?” he asked bluntly, and your eyes closed in frustration. Only JJ would ask something so stupid questions.

What did he expect you to say? Yes, JJ, I cry all the time?

JJ watched the scenery with raised eyebrows, looking amused. Whether you’d answer him or not didn’t seem to matter to him. He enjoyed getting under your skin. After all, you were a Kook. It wasn’t every day he got to see a Kook in tears. 

"Yeah," you finally said. The word slipped out with a touch of sarcasm. Turning to leave him behind, you added, “Another story you can go tell your friends and laugh about.” Let them make fun all they wanted. You weren’t going to let this get to you. Somehow, you’d get through it, and you’d never give this fool the satisfaction of seeing you so vulnerable again. But the thought of him sharing your moment of pain with his dumb friends… it stung more than you wanted to admit—

“I didn’t tell them.” His words stopped every thought in its tracks. Didn’t tell them?

He’d seen you crying, and— he hadn’t said a word? Those idiot pogues— everyone but him— they didn’t know, then…

“I mean…” he said, and you saw his shadow as he approached from behind. Slowly, you turned to him, noticing his usual smirk softened by something almost resembling sympathy. Maybe, if you didn’t know who he was, you’d believe him. “Your covid test.” He had crossed his arms, glancing around and lowering his voice as if taking precautions to make sure no one else heard.

And the fact that he kept calling it "covid"— what was he doing?

What was even going on?

“Positive or negative?” You couldn’t tell if he was asking out of curiosity, genuine concern, or a bit of both. How many more times today would you have to say, 'I’m pregnant'?

You didn’t want to answer. It wouldn’t change anything if he knew or not… he wasn’t anyone to you. But would he keep it quiet? If his friends knew… would others find out, too?

“You didn't tell them? Really?” you asked, trying to sound skeptical as you looked away when he laughed. Trusting someone shouldn’t be this hard. He shook his head and gave you an approving nod. “I’m not that much of a jerk.”

You knew he wasn’t a bad person. You’d never really thought of him as terrible, but… he was still JJ. He’d just always been the idiot in your mind.

“Positive,” you said without thinking. Maybe you should’ve thought twice, but you were exhausted. Worn out. How long could someone live like this, carrying a secret like this?

You wanted to let go of the weight inside. You were tired. Drained. And somehow, JJ felt like someone who wouldn’t judge you. He wouldn’t pressure you to have an abortion, wouldn’t insult you, wouldn’t tell you he wanted you but not the baby… He’d know, and maybe he’d tell someone, but in the grand scheme, even if he did, it would feel like a mosquito bite in comparison.

"Even I," he began, taking a deep breath, his eyes scanning your face. He looked at your red eyes and flushed nose, taking another deep sigh. Slowly, he withdrew his hand from your arm and gestured to your face with a finger. “Even I know better than to upset a pregnant woman. What kind of people are you around? Seems like they’ve got you wandering around with tears pouring down all the time.” He kept his voice low, only loud enough for you to hear.

You took a deep breath and tore your eyes away from his, looking quickly at the sea as your eyes began to fill with tears again. You just wanted this day to be over. To be done, so you could just sleep.

“It won’t last long,” you said. It’s what everyone wanted. Maybe they were right. Maybe ending the pregnancy was the best choice. Maybe it was you who was wrong. Who knows? Maybe hearing the same words from three different people was the universe sending you a sign.

“Do you want it?”

JJ’s question hit you hard. Do you want it? All you’d heard was ‘I don’t want it.’ Not once had anyone asked if you did.

You didn’t want to break down in front of him. You didn’t want to collapse and cry. As your legs shook, you crossed your arms tightly over your chest, keeping your eyes on the sea. The tears felt inevitable, as if they were determined to fall, slipping down your cheeks despite your efforts to hold them back.

“I don’t know,” you managed to say. Your voice was so soft, even you barely heard it, but JJ was completely focused on you, catching every word. He took a deep breath and stepped closer, aware of your tears without a word.

You felt his hand lightly on your back, a gentle, steadying touch. “Then don’t let anyone else sway you. Eventually, you’ll know what you want…” His tone was calm, like he was offering a suggestion. He didn’t look at you, either, keeping his gaze on the ocean just as you did.

Closing your eyes tightly, you drew in a deep breath, letting the scent of the ocean fill your lungs. “No one else thinks that, though…” Opening up to him was a mistake, you knew it. You were seeking the support, the respect he offered from a stranger you hardly knew. But somehow, he understood. He seemed to know just what you needed, as if he could tell exactly what words would help you most.

"Are you," His voice was barely a whisper. There wasn’t a soul around, no one remotely nearby, but he still chose to whisper. "Are you the one having the baby, or are they?"

As the sun slipped lower, you continued staring out at the view. You took a shaky breath, feeling like you might collapse. JJ’s hand was a light presence on your back, yet it felt like it was the only thing keeping you upright.

You lifted a hand to wipe the tears from your cheeks, grateful that he was standing behind you. The last thing you wanted was to fall apart in front of him. The tears blurred your vision, but you blinked them away, refusing to let yourself break down. Your last shreds of pride wouldn't let you. But the pain was overpowering, the shame too deep, like something was twisting and hollowing you out from the inside.

He was practically a stranger. JJ wasn’t in your life; you didn’t even see him regularly. You barely talked. And yet, here he was, offering you a kind of support you couldn’t even get from your family… How?

“Do you have a place to stay?” JJ’s question pulled you back. You wiped your tears again and turned to face him. His gaze moved from the scenery to you as your eyes met. Now that you were looking at him, you really saw him. The first time you’d seen him, you’d been so hurt, you just wanted him to go away. You hadn’t thought he’d follow you; you just wanted him to leave. And now— it was as if you were seeing him for the first time.

When you’d first crossed paths weeks ago, he’d been bruised up, his face covered in cuts. He’d probably been there to get some bandages or meds, but you hadn’t given it a second thought. The bruises had faded in the past two weeks, though a couple of scabs still lingered.

“Looks like you like what you see…” he smirked, jolting you out of your thoughts. You took a quick step back. If he didn’t say such idiotic things, you might have thought he was actually kind of human, but he was still the same idiot he’d always been.

You cleared your throat, annoyed at his bluntness. "No," you said. Technically, you did have a place—you could go home. But you didn’t want to. They hadn’t told you to leave, but you just couldn’t take another lecture. "No, I don’t have a place to stay."

JJ smirked again, and a hint of laughter crossed his face as if something had just occurred to him. He looked out at the sea and said, “Good.” That was all he said before glancing behind him. “I don’t have a place either. C’mon, let’s go.” He started walking ahead, and you looked at him, confused. If he didn’t have a place, then why had he asked? Idiot.

He turned and looked back at you. When he saw you hadn’t moved, his smirk widened, and he spread his arms, walking backward. “Come on! Let’s go!” Then he turned back around and kept walking. You didn’t understand him, but you started to follow.

He walked to where his things were, threw on a shirt, and picked up his bag. He glanced back to make sure you were following and grinned again. “I know a nice spot. You’ll probably hate it, Princess. But I’ll take you there.” As he grabbed your wrist to tug you along, you paused for a second to put on your shoes when you reached the edge of the beach. “Your face— it’s healed up,” you noted. JJ just grinned and tossed his still-damp hair back, giving you a look that hinted he’d taken your words another way.

“I know I’m handsome. Thanks for noticing.”

A true idiot shows his colors anywhere, anytime. Never forget that.

And yet—as annoying as he was, you kept following him, completely sure that wherever he was taking you, you were going to hate it.

[starkeysbunny]

the cut that always bleeds

pairing - rafe x thorton!reader

summary - when topper throws a party at your house, you hide in your room this time. you couldn't face rafe, you couldn't do it. and when you get too curious, you see him with the source of your breakup. but somehow, the cuts always get bandaged up, and he's right back in your arms.

warnings - cursing, breakups, toxic lowkey, lots of angst yall srry i love angsty shit

i purse my lips, sitting on the balcony outside my room as my eyes wander over the party downstairs. my brother topper was throwing a party, but i opted to stay up here.

topper’s best friend is my ex, rafe. and it was less than desirable for me to see him just a month after we broke up. i had avoided him this long, and i’d like to keep it that way.

my fingers tap against my cheek in boredom as i stare below. i see topper cheering kelce as he does a handstand on the keg. people making out, jumping in the pool.

then, in the very corner of the party—i spot rafe. and he’s with someone. a girl. she turns her head over her shoulder as she laughs obnoxiously at one of his jokes. sofia.

i groan, rolling my eyes. i lean back and watch as he has a smug smile on his face, enjoying her over-the-top reactions to his every move.

we barely broke up three weeks ago. he couldn’t be a little heartbroken?

i feel a tear fall down my cheek and sigh. “fuck.” i mutter under my breath. i quickly wipe the tears and stand from the balcony, going back into my room.

—

rafe cameron

my eyes are on sofia as she laughs, but when she turns slightly, my eyes flick to the girl they really want to see. i look up at the balcony, seeing y/n sitting up there, away from the party.

her eyebrows are furrowed together, that pouty look on her face i grew to love. i notice her wipe her cheek—was she crying? then she gets up, and walks inside. i press my lips together, my eyes remaining on the now closed balcony doors.

“rafe!” i look down at the feeling of sophia’s hand on my arm. she giggles. “what’re you looking at?”

my eyes flick back up to the doors. “nothing.” i mumble. “you know what, i-i’ll be right back.” i brush her off, pushing past her without another word.

i started talking to sophia at the party for one purpose. to make y/n jealous. and i did that. but it didn’t make me feel how i thought it would. i didn’t feel pride, or smug. i felt like an asshole.

i hated seeing her cry. even if we had broken up. and.. it was also my fault. fuck. i’m an idiot.

“yo, where you goin’ man?” topper chuckles, patting my shoulder as i go to head inside.

“uh.. getting another beer.” i make up a lie.

topper furrowed his eyebrows, then seemed to sober up with a single sigh. “man, she doesn’t wanna see you. that’s why she’s up there. leave her be.” topper says, his protective brother voice kicking in.

i roll my eyes. “i-i just need to make sure she’s okay.”

“rafe—“

“no.” i say firmly, looking directly at topper. “i’m gonna make sure she’s okay, alright?” i spit.

topper rolls his eyes. “whatever, bro. but if she asks me to throw you out, i’m throwin’ you out.”

“whatever.” i dismiss, heading inside and up the stairs. a route that was once an instinct.

—

i sat at the edge of my bed, my fingers brushing over the heart locket in my hand. the locket rafe gave me. there was an ‘r’ engraved on the front of the gold piece. and inside, was a small picture of us.

i don’t know why i kept it. maybe some stupid small hope, that we’d get back together. but i knew that wasn’t true. it was more of a damaging thought, than a healing one.

my head looks up as i hear a knock on my door. “topper?” i call out.

there’s silence for a moment, i gently put down the locket, getting up slowly to approach the door.

“n-no.” a muffled voice comes out, and i recognize it right away. “it’s rafe.”

i freeze, unable to move. i don’t know what to do. do i open it, listen to him? do i tell him to fuck off? do i throw him out? do i ignore him?

“look, i-i just… fuck.” i hear him mutter, trying to find the words to say. i knew him so well. too well. i knew what he was thinking. he couldn’t get the words out. he’s not good at expressing how he feels, putting it into words.

i stay silent, giving him the room to speak. i remain unmoving, not making a sound.

“i wanted to check on you.” he breathes out.

i hear the door creak slightly as he leans against it. he sighs, using my silence as room to vent. maybe part of him hoped i wasn’t even in here. maybe talking to my door was.. closure.

“i saw you up here all alone i just.. you should come down. the party is fun..” he huffs a chuckle then. “no, no it’s not. you know i hate that shit. i don’t even know why i came..”

i sigh, feeling tears brim in my eyes the more i listen to his voice. the voice i used to hear in the mornings when i woke up. whether he was here or not, he'd call me, just to say good morning. i take a deep shaken breath as he continues to talk.

"i know you saw sophia and i, alright? b-but, fuck she means nothing y/n. it was fucking stupid, i just wanted to make you jealous. i-i don't know why, because i'm the one who fucked up and lost you in the first place."

i take a seat on the edge of my bed, feeling tears fall down my cheeks as my hand covers my mouth to hide any sobs. it was his fault.

a month before we broke up, he lost his dad. and i tried to be there for him, but he'd push me away. i was understanding, because he was grieving. then, one day i was at the country club and i saw him venting to sophia.

she was working the bar, serving him and other customers drinks. and he was expressing his feelings to her about his dad. when i was there, coming to tannyhill to make sure he was okay, and he'd tell me to go away. and here he was, pouring his feelings out to the girl at the bar.

"i'm sorry, i just, i kept pushing you away because i didn't want you to see me like that." he admits.

at this, i stand up, going to the door and opening it. he almost falls over, staggering over his feet as he was leaning against the door. i press my lips together to try not to laugh as he stands back up, brushsing his hands over his shirt.

"you didn't want me to see you like that, but you didn't care if she did?" i say, my voice breaking.

"yeah, cause she's a fuckin' stranger. she wasn't my girl, who i value so fuckin' much." he sighs, his head dipping down slightly to meet my eyeline. "i-i know it doesn't make any sense. i should want to open up to you, but i just didn't want you to think any less of me."

his dad raised him to think men didn't cry, men weren't weak, instilling the phrase 'man up' deep into his vocabulary. so, i understand why he had those reservations to open up. but, it's the fact that he went to her, of all people. and she stood at the bar, nursing his whiskey while her hand gently rubbed his arm and she looked at him with bambi eyes.

it hurt.

i sniffle, tears falling down my cheeks. "why her though? what about her was so much more comforting and trusting than your own fucking girlfriend, rafe!" my voices raises slightly in pain, and i take a deep breath, turning so my back was facing him.

"baby—"

"don't." i snap, turning back to him. "don't call me that, don't do that."

he sighs in frustration, his hand coming up to his head and clenching in and out of a fist.

i sigh, rolling my eyes. "what'd you come up here to say, what do you want?"

his eyes soften and he pauses, looking over my features. "to—to i don't know, i was worried. i saw you up here i-i couldn't just—“

"rafe, you don't get to be worried." i sigh, turning around and going to sit on my bed.

he runs a hand over his hair, his jaw clenching. "i'm sorry, okay? i-i don't care about her, alright? everytime i look at her, i just wish she was you."

i scoff. "wow, that's music to my ears." i say sarcastically.

he rolls his eyes. "alright, c'mon, you know i'm not good at this shit."

"no, please continue telling me how you are with someone else but think about me while you fuck her."

he groans. "y/n, that's not what i fucking said! that's not what i meant, at all! you know that!"

i roll my eyes, throwing my arms up at my sides. i stand from the bed. "you think that makes me feel good?" i scoff. "hearing you say you regret everything and that she means nothing? that you look at her and think of me? you think that makes me forgive you?"

"no, no of course not--"

"why couldn't you just come to me?" i ask, my voice breaking. "i tell you everything, because i trust you. you know everything about me. and you couldn't open up to me about your grief? but you could open up to someone you don't even know?" tears slip down my cheeks as my eyebrows furrow. i look up at him confused, just trying to understand.

"i-i don't know. it was fucking stupid alright? i guess i-i was just embarassed. i wanted to be strong for you, and i wasn't." he sighs, his voice breaks the slightest bit. "look, i-i can't fuckin' be without you, alright. this has been the worst month of my life, baby. please. even if it kills me, i need you. even if it kills you. i can't breathe without you."

i hiccup through tears, my eyes not leaving his at his confession. my breathing slows. i notice his eyes tear up, something i've never seen from him before. i study his eyes as they water. searching for lies, for manipulation, but it wasn't there. he doesn't lie to me, he never does. even though he makes shitty choices, even though he is so bad for me, he's never once lied to me.

"i can't let you go. even if i should. i know i'm a shitty boyfriend, alright? but, i-i'm tryin' okay? i'm fucking trying. i know i don't deserve you. i know i should let you go, but i can't. no one can care about you like i do. even if they're better for you, they'll never care and protect you like i do."

i take a deep, shaken breath. it was true. how could we be so bad for each other, but not want anyone else? i say i hate him, but it's not true. how can you hate and love someone at the same time? it hurts, but it hurts so good.

"rafe.." i sniffle, my voice cracking.

"don't cry, please. i hate seein' you cry." he steps closer to me till he's right in front of me. and he does what i least expected. he gets on his knees right in front of me. his hands find their home on my hips as he clings to me like a vice. "please." he whispers. "i promise, i'll try to be better. i-i'll talk to you. i do trust you, okay? i was just scared."

a sob escapes my lips as i look down at him, my hand naturally coming to the back of his neck. no matter what, we always came back. every time. our wounds were ripped open over and over again by each other. then every single time, a few weeks later, we'd come back and kiss them better.

my hand moves from the back of his neck to his cheek, my thumb moving against the skin gingerly. "okay." i whisper through tears.

and once again, we bandaged up the cut that always bleeds.

[mysillycomics]

Hi everyone! This is Claire. I am writing to let you all know that we did it. We saved Bailey and Tiger Fluff, and we all live together in an apartment in Illinois, my home state. We really, really did it!!!

You can read our thanks, thoughts, and more under the read more :0)

(note: Oliver also goes by Bailey! She has two names.)

There are many important people on this journey that we would like to specifically thank.

First, all of our friends (especially Peregrine, Sophie, and Jackson) who were there on the day Bailey was evicted, who listened to me and helped me figure out what to do when I felt more lost than I’ve ever been. Without them we wouldn’t have been able to act so quickly and efficiently. Because of them, we were able to formulate a plan.

Speaking of Jackson, he and his partner Cherri need to be thanked once again. Jackson drove all the way from his home, Bailey’s motel, and back to get both her and Tiger to a place to stay while we figured out what to do next. They provided a warm, quiet, and safe place for both of them in a time when something like that was so far away. For the first time in a long time, I knew that Bailey was truly somewhere safe. For that, we will be forever grateful.

While we do not have their names, we would like to thank the staff of the airport and airline who helped make this journey objectively possible. They also made Tiger into a little celebrity on the flight, and everyone, including the pilot, went to greet her and congratulate her for being so brave. She really is the bravest little kitty we know.

Next are my very close friends Elle and Callan, who invited Bailey and Tiger to stay at their house not far from mine while we secured a place of our own. They, like Jackson and Cherri, gave both of them the space to simply be. I was able to visit a couple of times, and being with my favorite people made an extremely difficult time so much better. It made me think “this feeling is what we are fighting for”.

Finally, we’d like to thank you.

To all of you who read and shared our story, you helped us to feel seen and heard and not alone. Reading words of support in the comments, quote retweets, and tumblr tags truly made me feel like we could do this with everyone cheering us on.

To everyone who donated, your generosity this financially possible. As of writing, we received $19,381 from the GoFundMe. We are now able to use the rest of funds that have been tucked away in savings for rent, food, and bills. I cannot overstate how grateful we both are. What you did for us will never leave our hearts.

…

While Bailey and Fluffy were at Elle and Callan’s, we found an apartment. It was small, but perfect. We toured. We applied. And we got it.

And on December 9th, 2023, we moved in and started living together! Our goal, our dream, our driving force for so long was achieved. After three years of long distance, we finally made it.

Our home is small, and has some quirks as all homes do, but it’s ours. The love of my life, the best little cat in the word, and I are all together. We are safe, warm, happy, and loved. The future we fought so hard for us now the present. Forgive me for being long-winded. I just have so much to say about all of this! Sometimes I still can’t believe that we actually did it. But we did, we really did!!!

I’m going to keep the GoFundMe up for a little bit, but once things settle more I will close donations.

Thank you!!!!!!!!! 🧸💕

____

Hey everyone Bailey here, I cannot overstate just how grateful I am to every single one of you and how thankful I am that this journey has been able to come into fruition. It was very scary being in that motel not having a plan or knowing what I was gonna do next while everything was crumbling around me. If it wasn't for Claire and our incredibly kind and caring friends I don't know what I'd do. They helped me press on and get through this with Fluff and we finally did.

Finally we're in a place that brings nothing but peace and comfort, my anxiety has dropped and I'm doing things I've never thought possible and building up strengths I never knew I had, I feel whole in a way that I've never felt before and I'm just, happy.

I am so grateful to have Claire, for years she's been so supportive and comforting and has brought this dream we've had into reality and every day I am so thankful to have her, she is the love of my life and my best friend. The life that her, myself and Fluff now share will forever be together and we can finally begin living. 💚💜

Thank you everyone, thank you to our friends who let Fluff and I into their lives to be able to be safe while we get our bearings, thank you to everyone who said such kind and wonderfully compassionate words, cheering us on as we go, every day I was looking at the community post I made on YT and it was just filled with people being so supportive, and thank you everyone who donated and got us into where we are. We could not have done it without all of you. 🐟 ❤️ 🐟 ❤️

[felixknow]

Hannie's Fixation pt. 5: Finale

Hannie's 🍒 fixation | Hannie's 🦪 fixation | Hannie's fixation pt. 3 | Hannie's fixation pt. 4

general: friends to lovers, more desperate hannie, happy ending, f!reader, curvy reader implied

nsfw: boob play/fixation, oral and fingering (f!receiving), condom use, hannie doesn't last long (he's just so obsessed he can't help it)

He opens the door so quickly that you’re sure he was standing just on the other side waiting for you to knock.

“Hi,” he says on a breath, sounding relieved, almost as if he didn’t think you’d actually show up. One of his arms finds your waist as you step inside; with the other he closes and locks the door behind you.

“Hi Hanji.”

He hugs you tightly, laying his head on your shoulder. You hesitantly hug him back, unsure if this sweet moment will stay sweet or if he’ll start trying to fuck you the second your arms wrap around him.

He doesn’t, though. He just holds you for a long moment in silence, his arms locked around your body. This is more like the Hanji you’re used to. Your best friend, your Hanji, who had never shown any interest in your body until last week and lately has seemed to only like you for it. Now he’s his soft self again, wanting a cuddle and a quiet evening. For now, at least.

“I love you,” he mumbles pitifully, and you sigh softly.

“I’m not mad at you, Hanji, it just feels weird.”

“I know. I’m sorry. We should have talked about it first.” He lets go of you and stands back, his hands falling down to find yours as you release your hug on him in turn. “Do you want to talk about it now? Or after?”

“You’re such a horndog,” you scoff, rolling your eyes unseriously. “Here I thought you were about to have a serious moment with me and you’re still just set on getting in my pants.”

“You said I could! You said you’d come over and we’d fuck and then we’d talk!”

“Yeah, and you’re the one who just acknowledged that we very well should have had a conversation before we started doing anything sexual with each other.” While you talk, Han starts pulling you toward his room, and you willingly go with him, though you do make him put effort into dragging you along.

“Well a promise is a promise, y/nnie,” he insists. “And you promised I could hit at least once.”

“You say promise very liberally, Han Jisung. I don’t think I promised my pussy to you.”

 His head whips around to look at you, his eyes wide and excited, his lips parted and open so you can see a peek of his teeth. You don’t even have to look down all the way to see the tent in his pants.

“That’s so fucking hot. You did, though. You promised I get your pussy. Oh, fuck, I’m gonna fuck you so good,” he says excitedly, drawing you in again by your hips. He tries to lean in to kiss you, but the feeling of his boner against your crotch makes you laugh nervously and lean away from his face.

“You’re ridiculous. Not a serious bone in your body, I swear.”

“Oh, I’m serious. I’m reeeeeally serious, and this serious bone is going to get into your body.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you insist again, still trying to push against his chest to make him let go of you.

“Please, y/nnie, pleeeease.” Han makes kissy noises, still leaning in, still holding the small of your back to keep you close.

“You don’t have to beg me, you know,” you mumble, finally giving in to him and letting him kiss all across your cheek and your soft jawline.

“But I don’t know what else to say,” he says back in an equally low voice. “And I want you to know how bad I want it. I’m not just asking you ‘cause I’m horny, I’m asking you ‘cause it’s you.”

You take a second to silently process his words, and his shiny brown eyes watch you carefully. You don’t say anything, though, electing instead to lean in and kiss him properly on the lips for what you think may be the actual first time your lips have touched his.

Han’s quick to pull you backwards the rest of the way into his room. You stumble together to his bed, and he falls ungracefully backwards when the back of his knees hit the bed, and he pulls you down on top of him, letting out a very dramatic whine of protest when you try to avoid straddling him.

“Sit,” he mutters against your lips, still trying to kiss you while he talks even though it’s a little awkward and creates a weird ratio of lips to teeth to tongue.

“Thought you wanted to fuck me?” you pant into his mouth. One arm wraps around his shoulders and the other hand tangles in his hair. “Wouldn’t you rather me lying down?”

“You’re so right,” he groans, shifting you both to the side until you’re tumbling off his lap and into his soft bed. The scent of his shampoo and cologne instantly surrounds you and eases the last bit of nerves you had about this. This is your Hanji. 

Han’s shaky hands make quick work of your clothes and his in a back to back pattern. His shirt, then yours, then his pants, then your bra. He can’t help himself from playing once he sees your boobs right in front of him again. 

He moans as soon as his mouth closes around your nipple. Your skin is so warm and soft, and the scent of your skin fills his nose to the brim, and his eyes flutter closed and he’s never been so happy to have someone in his bed. He sucks and pinches opposite nipples, playing and indulging more for his own pleasure than for yours just like the first time he’d gotten to touch you.

When you moan and whisper his name, you break his trance and he sits back up, lips shiny with spit where his mouth hangs open like it’s still searching for your breast.

“Does that feel good for you?” he asks, almost in a daze. “I should have asked.”

“It does,” you nod, reaching up to fluff up his already messy hair. “I think ‘cause you like it so much so you’re really good at it. It feels good.”

A smile breaks his open-mouthed expression, and he gives you another quick yet searing kiss before kicking off his underwear and dragging your leggings and panties from your body in one quick motion. Once he’s gotten them off your ankle, then the other, he grips your leg firmly to hold it in place while he kisses it from the inside of your ankle all the way up to the top of your thigh. You assume that he’s going for your cunt, maybe looking for the taste of you before he fucks you, but instead he continues up, peppering kisses and spit up your soft stomach, your chestbone, and up your neck.

“Can we do it?” he whispers in your ear. “You’re sure I can?”

“Yes, Hanji,” you chuckle. “Fuck me. Let me feel you inside me.”

He moans in your ear in response, humping against your thigh like a horny dog for a second before peeling himself off of you to scurry away into his ensuite bathroom. You watch through the doorway as he opens the top drawer, pulls a whole box of condoms out, and comes running back to the bed, unattended cock bobbing as he does.

“Did you already have those or did you buy those just for this?” you ask without considering if you really want to know the answer. Once he looks up at you with his cheeks flushing red, you decide, “Actually, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.”

Han just nods apathetically and opens the box, pulling the roll of foil packets out. He tears one off carefully, tosses the box down onto the nightstand, then hands the single condom to you.

“Will you…?” 

You look up at him with wide eyes, but then nod and sit up, understanding what he wants.

“Yeah, of course. Come here.”

Hanji crawls onto the bed and kneels between your spread legs, and as your fingers tear the corner of the packet open, he tilts your chin up and kisses you again. When you try to pull away, his shaky, whiny breath asks you to stay.

“I need to see the condom to get it on you,” you mumble against his lips, and he sighs, leaning his forehead against yours. You both look down, then, watching your fingers carefully remove the condom from its packet. You make sure it’s facing the right way before pinching the tip and settling it against the head of Han’s blushing pink prick.

“Ahh,” he moans softly, biting his lip to try to stifle himself as more sounds beg to be released. He’d been so good about not touching himself under the guise that it would make him last longer when he got to finally get inside, but now he realizes the flaw in his plan as you slowly roll the condom down his length. He feels like he’s so pent up he could bust right now.

“Maybe I should finger you first,” he says unsurely, sitting back to look at your whole face and gage your expression.

“Why? I’m wet enough, I can assure you.” Your hand dips between your thighs and expertly dips into your heat, slipping against your labia both on the way in and back out. “See?” You hold up your two sticky, shiny wet fingers to Han, and his cock noticeably twitches.

“Oh my god.” His hand darts out to grab your wrist, and in the blink of an eye your fingers are in his mouth. His tongue swirls around and between your fingers, sucking every bit of taste from them as he can.

“Okay, actually,” he says when he releases your fingers. “I need a taste first.” He gently pushes you back, and you comply, butterflying your legs out to the side as Hanji lays between them.

Just like when he couldn’t resist sucking your tits as soon as he saw them, he goes at your pussy like a man starved, not for your pleasure but for his own.

He laps at your cunt, licking bottom to top multiple times until he can’t tell what’s your wetness and what’s his spit. Then he parts your labia with his fingers and flicks his tongue over your clit incessantly, taking your breath away.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan, hands digging into his hair. “Hanji, you’re not going easy on me.”

He hums in half-ass acknowledgement, suckling, trying to give a little extra stimulation to your clit before his fingers prod at your vagina. Once again he makes you moan when two slide in, and once again he doesn't go easy on you as his fingers immediately begin to curl upward, looking for that perfect spot that will make you pull his hair and forget how to talk.

“Han-- Oh fuck-- Hanji, I thought-- I thought you were gonna fuck me. If you don't stop I’m gonna cum.”

Han’s rhythm falters, his tongue slowing and his fingers stilling. His previously closed eyes open and he peers up at you.

“Would you beg for it?” he asks, dipping his head back down to suckle at your clit again. “How many times have you heard me beg for it?” His fingers slowly begin to move again, teasing as they drag against the bumpy flesh inside your vagina. “Would you? If I kept eating you out instead, would you beg for my dick?”

“Mmm,” you whine, squirming, almost too embarrassed to admit that you would. But then his expert tongue comes back into play, circling around and around and you whine loudly and blurt it out.

“Please, Hanji. Please fuck me. I want your cock so bad. I want it inside me, please.”

You swear you hear him gasp as his head flies up, his eyes open wide, his drenched mouth hanging open yet still smiling. His fingers are out of you and quickly planted into the sheets beside your body as he almost literally leaps upward to align himself with you.

“Oh, fuck,” he grunts, hips already bucking as he tries to line his tip up with your pussy. “That was so fucking hot. God, I need you so fucking bad.” He ends up bumping your clit several times, whether on purpose or not, before he finally catches on the opening of your vagina and jerks forward an inch or two. His whole body jerks and his head hangs low and you sweeeear for a second he just came, but then he sinks fully into you with the longest, most pornographic moan you’ve ever heard in your bedroom life, and you know your dramatic best friend is just taking his time enjoying you.

“Oh my god,” he whines, kneeling between your legs with your hips fully touching. He lays his torso on yours, his head and soft hair landing on your chest. He pants like he’s trying to catch his breath and he keeps blessing your ears with these tiny, whiny moans. “You feel so good,” he mutters.

His hands roam your arms trying to your find your hands, and when he makes purchase and intertwines your fingers, he’s pinning them to the side of your head and raising himself back up above you. The feeling of him shifting inside you makes you clench around him, and you both moan when his cock twitches.

There’s one thing you can’t say about this encounter, and that’s that it lasts very long. He begins apologizing as soon as his hips start their work, his practiced dance rhythm keeping him perfectly in time as he fucks you.

“I’m so sorry y/nnie,” he huffs, “I’m gonna cum so fast.” He brushes his thumbs against the sides of your hands. “I want you so bad. I want you so bad.”

“Hanji,” you moan, squirming your hips up to meet his. “Feels so good. Ahh, fuck. Fuck, you can cum whenever you want. Just don’t leave me hanging.”

“Would never,” he swears, furrowing his brow. “Nng, fuck. I’m gonna make you cum so good. Gonna make you feel so good, y/nnie.”

“Please, Hanji. Make me cum.”

“Yeah,” he says, voice keening upward an octave. “Yeah, y/nnie. ‘M gonna make you cum. ‘M gonna-- ahh!”

He doesn’t have the resolve to stop himself when it feels so good. Instead he buries himself as far as possible when he cums, imagining the way his hot spurts look filling up your pretty pussy, even though he knows the condom catches it all. It doesn’t stop him from picturing you leaking pearly white for him to slurp up and spit back into your mouth.

Another time, maybe. Another time.

“Y/n,” he sighs, letting go of your hands finally as he gives you a few more weak thrusts to milk the last good feelings from his orgasm before it gets too sensitive. “I love you.”

“I know, Hanji,” you say, softly smiling at him. “Love you too.”

The corners of his mouth twitch in a way you can’t read as he pulls out of you with a final sigh. He carefully rolls the condom off and ties it off before running it to the bathroom to drop in the trash.

As soon as he’s back in the room, he’s nestling between your legs again, wasting no time in sliding two fingers into you and circling your clit with his tongue.

“Fuck me with your fingers,” you tell him, guiding him to your orgasm. He does what you tell him, speeding up when you want, going harder, staying “just like that” until you’re cumming around him, leaking a good bit of watery cum that he excitedly notes in the back of his head for future exploration.

He licks you clean, teasing with the tip of his tongue around your swollen clit and sensitive hole a few times before finally relenting to your pleas of “enough, enough.”

When he finally lays down beside you, hugging you tightly despite your whining that it’s too warm, you’re both too sweat-sticky to be cuddling right now-- he tells you he loves you again.

“This is the third time you’ve said that in the last half-hour.”

“Yeah and you only said it back once.”

“I love you, Hanji,” you say in a teasing tone.

“Love me how?”

“Huh?”

“Love me how?” he repeats, flicking a stray piece of hair out of his eyes. “Because I love you like I’m trying to date you.”

“What?!” 

“Ahh, I’m so lame,” he says, visibly cringing at your shocked reaction. “Post nut clarity is stupid. I’m being so blunt! And boring! I just feel so good and I love you so much and you’re so beautiful and I want you so bad.” He hugs you tighter, sighing and pouting at you. “Do you feel the same, y/nnie? Do you love me?”

“I-- Yes, Hanji, I do. I love you. I wouldn’t have ever let you touch me if I didn’t want you as more than a friend.”

“Say you’ll be mine,” he spits out quickly, nearly stumbling over his words in excitement. He hooks a leg over yours and forces both of you to squirm and writhe as he exclaims, “I love youuuu! Say you’ll be mine! Say it!”

You laugh, trying to fight against the wriggling, but his grip is too firm around you.

“Okay, okay! I love you, Hanji! Let’s do it! Let’s be a couple.”

His movements stop immediately and he beams a breathtaking smile at you.

“That’s amazing. You’re amazing.”

“Oh, stop.” you say bashfully, playfully shoving him back, but this time he actually does let go of you and flop onto his back, staring up at the ceiling, still smiling.

“We should wash up,” you tell him softly, turning to get up.

“We?” he asks excitedly, and you barely bite back a giggle.

“I said what I said, didn’t I?”