#you know.. the face you’re making while talking with friends gushing about something

[caramello-styles]

besties LET ME IN

[crushmeeren]

⇢ ⇢ KIRISHIMA / FEM READER

everyone involved in this fic is aged up/18+.

⇢ warnings; daddy kink, praise kink, rough sex, hair pulling, mentions of choking, throat fucking, pussy eating, vaginal sex, Kirishima spits into readers mouth and you swallow that shit happily, cream pie, sweet aftercare, sleepy sex.

Eijirou who is the actual human embodiment of a ray of sunshine. Who if you looked up the definition of golden retriever energy in the dictionary, his picture would be there. If he had a tail it would be wagging nonstop.

Eijirou who you met for the first at the gym. You were new and consequently uncomfortable and unsure of your actions when it came to weightlifting. Who came up to you so shyly and with a smile so sweet to explain the proper way to back squat when he noticed you struggling.

Eijirou who caused you to get weak in the knees when he approached you that first time. Who appeared intimidating due to being the size of a mountain, sporting bright cherry red hair, but was the kindest man you’d ever met.

Eijirou who stuttered and blushed adorably every time you asked him to be your spotter after that. Who finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, asked for your number. Who definitely did not see you fist pump in victory after receiving said man’s text.

Eijirou who is gut wrenchingly stacked. Who is also the biggest marshmallow you’ve ever met. Who gets overly excited to play wrestle with your dog. Who you swear loves your dog more than you because they’ve become two peas in a pod since you moved in together.

Eijirou who is very intelligent. Who is maybe not top dog when it comes to academics, but he is exceptional with emotional and street intelligence. Who can somehow read your emotions like an open book, giving you immense relief when you aren’t in the mood to talk.

Eijirou who is oblivious to how he looks. Who has so many Instagram followers he doesn’t know what to do with them. It’s due to the fact that he started posting pictures of himself at the gym just for fun and unbeknownst to him everything he posts is a thirst trap. Who didn’t realize until you pointed it out, but happily reassured you that you’re his one and only.

Eijirou who just about never says no to you. Who goes with the flow, an easy smile lighting up his face. Who lets you pick out the movie for date night more often than not, but you choose something you both enjoy just the same.

Eijirou who has an infatuation with cherry twizzlers. Who has hearts in his eyes whenever you buy him a pack every Friday. Who coos and gushes about how lucky he is and how much he loves you every time you show up with a pack. Who shares them with you either way.

Eijirou who loves to wear athletic clothing. Who, on the other end of the spectrum, also enjoys dressing in the punk aesthetic. Who has two lobe piercings on each ear. Who looks otherworldly when he wears nicer outfits. Who giggles when you make a joke about his clothes looking better on your floor.

Eijirou who is best friends with Katsuki, and by some miracle you’ve become friends with blonde as well. Who often plays video games online with his friends (Katsuki, Denki, Sero, also including Izuku and Shouto). Who insists you sit on the floor between his legs while he plays.

Eijirou who purrs like a cat when you scratch his scalp whenever his hair is down. Who lays his head in your lap while you watch TV so you can continue to play with his hair. Who falls asleep halfway through the movie because he can’t keep his eyes open.

Eijirou whose presence is calming and friendly. Who makes you feel safe and secure. Who you’ve never heard a bad word said about, although you’d step up to anybody who dared to try.

Eijirou who has made you feel more loved and appreciated than anyone else you’ve ever been with before. Who fills your chest with a warmth so intense your eyes burn with tears. Who brings you your favorite food or drink out of blue. Who makes you laugh so hard your stomach cramps.

Eijirou who is, without a doubt, your other half. Being with him is like regaining a limb you didn’t realize you were missing. Who becomes your husband, the father of your children, and who you share a love with that only appears once every five life times.

Eijirou who kisses you so softly. Whose lips move lazily with yours as he lets out little breathy sighs. Whose thumbs tease under your shirt, tickling the smooth skin over your hip bones as you straddle him. Who exhales roughly, sharp teeth snagging on your bottom lip as he bites down harshly. Who sucks on it apologetically afterwards when you cry out.

Eijirou who has a hard on for having you dry hump him while you’re both still wearing clothes. Whose head thumps onto the backrest of the couch, tightening his grip on your waist when you start to grind on him. Who flushes petal pink, eyes fluttering shut with a moan as he helps you drag your clit back and forth over his straining cock.

Eijirou whose switch flips once he gets to a certain level of arousal. Who tosses you onto your bed effortlessly and cages you in between his thick arms. Who grips your jaw harshly and forces it to pop open. Who spits possessively into your mouth, commanding you to “swallow it baby girl.”

Eijirou who loves the sensation of your hot, velvet like mouth sucking his cock. Who places you on the floor with your back shoved against the side of the mattress. Who grips the hair at the nape of your neck to keep you in place as he fucks your throat and props one knee up on the bed. Who licks his lower lip when he stares into your teary eyes and murmurs with a smoky voice “you’re so good at sucking daddy’s cock baby girl. You’re stunning on your knees like this.”

Eijirou who happily eats you out from behind. Whose plush tongue traces a path from your puffy clit up to the sensitive rim of your ass. Whose thick fingers stretch your pussy open while he focuses his mouth on your rim. Who makes your belly flutter and tighten, dragging an orgasm out of you this way.

Eijirou whose cock is thick. Intimidating enough that he’s determined to get your pussy drooling before he fucks you.

Eijirou who has a daddy kink. Who has you beg for his cock when he has you folded in half. Who keeps your knees close to touching your ears as he teases the lips of your pussy with just his tip. Who tells you condescendingly “you gotta ask daddy nicely if you want to be split open sweetheart.”

Eijirou whose chest gets slick with sweat, hair falling from its spiky position when you start to go at it. Whose moans raise in pitch when he can feel your nipples slipping over and over on his pecs as he presses his weight down and fucks you. Who cries out when you squeeze him.

Eijirou who has a filthy deep stroke. Who pants and whispers toe curling praise in your ear, but fucks you like he’s trying to carve out your guts. Who lets you weave your fingers through his soft hair and hang on for leverage. Who breathlessly tells you “your pussy’s so good to me sweet thing, daddy loves fucking such a tight little thing like you.”

Eijirou whose breath hitches when he switches to fucking you from behind. Who presses his cock back in with one roll of his hips. Whose pace is brutal from the get go, nails biting into the squishy flesh of your hips. Who actively has to reign in his quirk so it doesn’t activate and shred your skin.

Eijirou who makes you cum with a wail in this position. Who threads his fingers through your hair and forces your neck back into an uncomfortable angle. Whose voice is like warm honey in your veins when he coos “Oh? Right there angel? That was a big one, wasn’t it baby? You did so well for me.”

Eijirou who pulls you up into his lap until your back is sticking to his chest and lets a hand snake around your throat as he bounces you on his cock. Who makes your spine bow as he bites your shoulder, aiming to leave an obvious mark. Who whines low in his throat when he cums, eyes rolling back when you gasp.

Eijirou who has you limping to the shower afterwards. Who is sweet and tender with his aftercare as he washes your body, massaging your lower back where it twinges. Who tells you how much he loves you as he carries you back to the bed in a towel. Who has you giggling when he pokes your ribs while you change into one of his large T-shirts.

Eijirou whose face you pepper with kisses when he climbs into the bed with you. Who’s eager for it when you wake him up in the middle of the night to ride him slow and sweet with your foreheads pressed together. Who cradles you against his chest when you eventually fall back asleep.

[yenqa]

SO AMERICAN! | where you meet tsukishima and—wow you are so american.

♫ – currently playing… olivia rodrigo

warnings – profanity, reader is learning japanese and is american if u couldnt tell! reader is called pretty

pairing – tsukishima x fem!reader

a/n – hashtag semi hiatus! anyways i was reading an ao3 fic while listening to this song and it sparked smth in me so enjoy! (did my research on culture shocks btw guys!!)

word count – 571

You’re smiling at him like you know him.

Tsukishima doesn’t know you. He’s just seen you for the first time when you walked into the gym–presumably to become the manager for the club next year.

It’s starting to worry him, you haven’t been properly introduced, only your eyes have met a few times, yet you don’t hesitate to smile every time you make contact.

You’re not in the same class. But he can tell by your mannerisms that you’re a foreign student. You talk a little louder than most, and your Japanese is accented but not enough where he can’t understand.

He knows he’s spot on when you go to greet Daichi with a handshake, he can see you firmly grip his hand which catches him off guard.

Y/n. That’s your name.

It’s a pretty name he admits to himself, you’re a pretty girl so it fits. He doesn’t acknowledge that–or tries not to.

You’re standing in front of the whole team being introduced to everyone, waving and smiling like you’re old friends.

He can see from his peripheral vision when they all bow that you’re unsure of what to do. You awkwardly tilt your body down too, and he lets out a quiet chuckle.

It’s cute.

He’s disgusted by himself, he thinks that something is up with him.

Shaking his head, he starts his warmups.

He tries not to keep his eye on you, but he can’t help it.

You’re holding a clipboard now, there's a paper on it he can’t see, but he can tell by your furrowed brows that you’re still struggling a bit with reading.

Making an excuse for himself, he walks up to where his water bottle–luckily right next to where you are, turns around and takes a sip of it. He’s standing right next to you now, reading the same paper as him.

Your eyes scan left to right on the paper, he laughs.

Whipping your head over, you ask, “Is something wrong?”

“Right to left, we read right to left.” He speaks a little slower than his usual pace—hoping you wouldn’t be offended.

You aren’t a smile grows on your face instead. “Oh my gosh–I was wondering what was wrong this whole time!” You laugh at yourself, thanking him quietly before restarting, eyes moving right to left this time.

“You’re so american.” He mutters, a chuckle comes out of him as he says it.

“Is that a compliment?” You ask, the paper is discarded now, your full attention is on him.

“Whatever you want it to be.”

You roll your eyes, hitting his shoulder with no real force behind it, “Whatever Kei.”

He doesn’t miss the fact that you’ve called him Kei instead of his surname. He brushes it off as another mistake, you’re new to the country after all.

Later he hears you complimenting “Kageyama and Hinata”, your voice is still louder than what a normal student speaks, and you’re gushing about their skills, to their faces. But then he looks over at you, and you two make eye contact.

He almost misses how you wink at him, it's a teasing one but it still makes his heart flutter. Then as quickly as you looked over, you looked away, a bright smile present on your face while you talked to his other teammates.

It’s definitely not fair of you to make him feel this much. Because he might just fall in love.

yenqa © please do not copy, steal or translate.

[ye4gerz]

my game, your rules. — ldh part two

‧˚⭒ pairing: lee donghyuck x afab reader 18+MDNI ‧˚⭒ genre: brothers best friend au! fake dating! friends to lovers! humor! fluff! angst! smut! adult life au! jenos sister! flirty hc! ‧˚⭒ word count: 6.5k+ ‧˚⭒ cw: lots of smut towards the end. dirty talking, raw sex, reader has to talk on the phone while getting railed lmao. drinking. spitting. hyuck turns into a dom. ‧˚⭒ summary: you’re fed up with your family constantly telling you how to live your life, but what would they think if you showed up with your brother’s best friend as your new boyfriend? even worse—what happens when you realize you’re actually falling for him?

‧˚⭒ a/n: thank you for your patience guys! if you haven’t already, pls comment to let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist for the rest of the series. enjoy!

previous | next

You sat at your desk, staring blankly at the computer screen in front of you. The spreadsheet was a mess of numbers that no longer made sense, blurring together like static.

“Are you even listening to me?”

You blinked and looked up to see Renjun leaning against the edge of your desk, an incredulous expression on his face.

“What’s got you so distracted today?”

You shot him a glare and grabbed your coffee, taking a deliberate sip. “I’m just tired. It’s been a long week.”

“Sure,” he teased, crossing his arms with a knowing smirk. “Well, whoever he is, he’s doing a great job living in your head rent-free.”

You choked mid-sip, nearly spilling the coffee in the process. “There’s no he! I told you—I’m just tired!”

Renjun’s chuckle echoed through the office as you slumped back in your chair, muttering curses under your breath.

That was just the kind of work relationship you had with Renjun—teasing, sarcastic, and occasionally helpful, though you’d never admit that last part. He’d been a mutual friend of Karina’s, and luckily for you, she’d used her connections to get you into the company.

“As long as it doesn’t interfere with our marketing proposals, feel free to keep daydreaming,” he said with a shake of his head, clearly amused.

You sighed, rubbing your temples. The last thing you needed was to get distracted at work. The past few weeks had been a relentless cycle of trying to prove yourself, dragging your name into meetings, and praying the higher-ups would finally take you seriously.

Renjun had already managed to make himself known. Despite being in the same intern program, he’d been invited to several major meetings while you were stuck at your desk, double-checking numbers and responding to emails no one cared about.

So when your boss finally invited you to sit in on a big meeting tomorrow, you knew you couldn’t mess this up. This was it. This was everything you’d been hoping for—a chance to prove yourself, to show that you were capable of more than spreadsheets and inbox cleanup.

And yet, here you were, staring at your monitor while your thoughts drifted elsewhere. To Haechan.

You and Haechan had officially planned a day for him to meet your family—as your boyfriend, that is. They were already familiar with him, given all the times he’d tagged along with Jeno. Now they were curious, eager to see this new side of him.

The closer the day came, the more nervous you grew. As if sensing your anxiety, Haechan spent more time with you, lingering around whenever you got home from work.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” you grumbled, half-heartedly trying to shoo him away as he lounged on your couch.

He didn’t budge, grinning up at you. “I’ve got a couple of ideas in mind, but you’d probably kill me.” His gaze flickered up and down, far too obvious for your liking.

Your face immediately warmed. “You’re getting ahead of yourself now,” you snapped, your voice rising an octave.

Haechan shrugged, the picture of nonchalance. “So what’s the game plan? We show up for dinner, gush about how madly in love we are, and then dip?”

You rolled your eyes. “Something like that.”

But his teasing faltered when he noticed the subtle shift in your demeanor—the way your shoulders tensed, your fingers fidgeting at your sides. His tone softened. “What’s on your mind right now?”

You hesitated, your gaze drifting toward the floor. “I have this really important meeting at work tomorrow—it could make or break everything for me,” you admitted, biting your lip. “Then there’s the dinner we need to plan, and after that, I have to come up with a way for us to pretend–break up. I’m still giving Jeno updates on this whole mess while trying to find my own place in case he actually does want me to leave. I haven’t even seen Karina since the arcade, and on top of all that, my coworker is depending on me not to screw up this presentation.”

You paused, exhaling heavily. “So why does it feel like all I keep doing is ruining things for myself?”

The words tumbled out before you could stop yourself. You froze mid-rant, shaking your head. “I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t be unloading all of this on you.”

Haechan’s expression softened, concern replacing his usual playfulness. “Hey,” he murmured, stepping closer. “I’m your best friend—well, besides Karina, of course—but you can always open up to me.”

Before you could protest, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a gentle hug. He swayed you slightly, one hand rubbing the top of your head in a soothing rhythm.

“You’ve got a lot on your plate,” he said quietly, his voice steady and warm. “It’s okay to be worried. Just remember to take small steps before you try to jump ahead of yourself. Don’t stress about the dinner—leave that all to me, okay? Same goes for Jeno and everything that comes after. Let me take that burden off your shoulders.”

You looked up at him, your chin resting against his chest. “Are you sure? I’m the one who put you in this position in the first place.”

“Nonsense,” he chuckled, his gaze meeting yours. “This was my idea, remember? We do this, and you get to live an easier life. I’ll make sure of that.” He leaned down slightly, the corners of his lips lifting into a soft, reassuring smile. “I promise to make this life less of a burden for you, pretty girl.”

Your breath caught, the words hitting you harder than you expected. Suddenly, you became acutely aware of everything—the closeness, the warmth of his embrace, the faint brush of his breath against your skin.

You gulped, your heart thudding a little too loudly in your chest. What are you doing?

For a moment, neither of you moved. His eyes lingered on yours, unreadable but intense, and it sent a wave of nervous energy rushing through you. You couldn’t fall for this. You wouldn’t.

Pulling back ever so slightly, you cleared your throat, breaking the moment. “Thanks, Hyuck. I mean it.”

“Anytime,” he replied softly, his hands lingering at your sides before he finally let you go.

As he stepped back, you busied yourself with brushing imaginary lint off your clothes, anything to distract yourself from the fact that you’d just felt safe in his arms and that it scared you more than anything else.

“I have an idea,” he proposed, leaning slightly closer with that familiar spark in his eyes.

You sighed lightheartedly, already wary. “You and your ideas.”

He only grinned, unfazed. “This one’s a real one, I promise. How does this sound? I’ll order us takeout, and I’ll help you practice for your presentation.”

Your eyes widened slightly at his offer, and you paused, caught off guard. He noticed it too, his gaze softening as he watched you process your thoughts.

“No silliness, I swear,” he added quickly, raising one hand in mock oath while the other rested dramatically over his heart. “Scout’s honor.”

You looked at him then—really looked at him. His playful smirk had faded just enough to reveal something else underneath; a quiet determination to make sure you were okay, to make sure this went smoothly for you.

And just like that, you couldn’t resist.

“Fine,” you relented with a small smile. “But you’re paying for the takeout.”

He grinned triumphantly. “Deal. You get to choose what we’re ordering, by the way. I’m generous like that.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t deny it; takeout did sound good, and maybe, just maybe, his help wouldn’t be so bad. Even if he did goof around here and there.

By the time the takeout arrived, you were already seated on the couch, laptop open and presentation slides pulled up. Haechan set the food on the coffee table, making himself comfortable beside you.

“Okay, so here’s the deal,” he said, handing you a pair of chopsticks. “We eat, you present, and I give you my expert-level feedback.”

You raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “Expert-level?”

“Hey, I’ve sat through enough of Jeno’s late-night study sessions to know how these things work,” he replied, smirking as he unwrapped his food. “Besides, I’m a very tough crowd.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Fine, but you better be serious about this.”

“I’m always serious when it counts,” he shot back, and something about the way he said it made your heart flutter just a little.

With your nerves settling slightly, you took a deep breath and began walking through your presentation. As you spoke, pointing at graphs and summarizing your key points, Haechan listened intently, nodding in all the right places. It was a side of him you didn’t see often—focused, attentive, and surprisingly serious.

“Okay, pause,” he said after you finished your first run-through, leaning forward with an earnest expression. “First off, you sounded confident, which is good, but here—” he gestured to one of the slides—“you lost me a little. The numbers are strong, but you need to explain why they matter. Connect them to your main point more clearly.”

You blinked at him, genuinely surprised. “That’s… actually really helpful.”

“I told you I’m good at this,” he teased, but his tone remained gentle. “Let’s go over that section again, and this time, think of it as telling a story. Hook them in.”

For the next hour, you practiced, tweaking your phrasing and pacing as Haechan offered thoughtful critiques between bites of food. He was playful enough to keep you relaxed but serious when it mattered, pointing out where you could improve and hyping you up when you nailed a section. It also helped mid way when Jeno came home to find you two together, he kept his distance and comments to himself, but couldn’t help to smile as he made his way to his room.

“See?” Haechan said finally, sitting back with a proud grin. “You’re gonna kill it tomorrow.”

You let out a deep breath, smiling despite yourself. “Thanks, Hyuck. I mean it.”

“Anytime, pretty girl,” he replied softly, his gaze lingering on you for just a moment too long before he stood to clean up. “Now go get some rest. You’ve got this.”

The next morning, you walked into the conference room with your laptop tucked under your arm and your heart pounding in your chest. The senior executives were already seated at the long table, their expressions unreadable as they greeted you politely.

Renjun shot you a reassuring smile from the corner of the room, mouthing a quick “Good luck.”

Taking a deep breath, you set up your presentation, your fingers shaking slightly as you clicked to the first slide. You can do this, you reminded yourself.

Haechan’s voice echoed in your mind: “Hook them in. Tell a story.”

And so you did.

You began strong, your voice steady as you introduced the proposal. You outlined the key strategies you and Renjun had developed, seamlessly weaving data into a clear narrative. As you reached the section where you’d stumbled the night before, you found yourself explaining the numbers with confidence, emphasizing their relevance with ease.

The executives nodded along, some even jotting down notes as you spoke. You caught glimpses of interest in their expressions—raised brows, subtle nods—little victories that spurred you on.

By the time you reached the conclusion, your pulse had slowed, your confidence solid.

“And that concludes our proposal,” you finished, meeting the eyes of the room. “Thank you for your time.”

For a beat, there was silence, and the anxiety you’d pushed down began to creep back up—until the senior manager at the head of the table smiled.

“Well done,” she said, closing her folder. “That was clear, concise, and well-executed. This has real potential. We’ll discuss further details and get back to you.”

You blinked, stunned for a moment, before nodding. “Thank you,” you managed, relief washing over you.

Renjun met you at the door once the meeting ended, grinning from ear to ear. “You nailed it!”

“Really?” you breathed, a smile breaking across your face.

“Really,” he confirmed. “They looked impressed.”

As you made your way back to your desk, you couldn’t stop the grin that tugged at your lips. You’d done it. The meeting you’d stressed over for weeks—you’d nailed it.

You pulled out your phone under your desk, typing out a quick message.

You: killed the meeting. you’re the best fake boyfriend ever.

Seconds later, your phone buzzed with a reply.

HC: i’m not surprised. told you you’d kill it. go ahead, admit that i’m your good luck charm ;)

You bit back a laugh, shaking your head, deciding to give in to his antics.

You: fine, you’re the best fake boyfriend and greatest good luck charm i could ever ask for. does that sound better?

HC: that’s what i like to hear, baby.

“Here’s to being a full-time marketing assistant!” you cheered, clinking your shot glass against Haechan’s, the two of you seated in the cozy corner of a dimly lit restaurant.

It hadn’t been long since the presentation day and you were pulled into the senior manager’s office alongside Renjun. The memory still felt surreal—her sharp, confident voice replaying in your head as if it had just happened.

“You two have something the team can really benefit from,” she had said, smiling as if she already knew how much this meant to you. “We incorporated some of your ideas from the previous presentation into the current project, and the feedback has been astonishing. We’d like to offer both of you full-time entry positions and officially put you in charge of strategies moving forward.”

Joy didn’t even begin to cover it. Renjun and yourself had accepted immediately, emotions bubbling over as you practically floated out of her office, and then she called you back.

“Your growth here since you first started has been remarkable,” she’d said, her words lingering with unexpected warmth. “Continue to keep up the good work.”

The encouragement had sent you over the moon. The grin on your face hadn’t faded since.

Now, here you were—celebrating over dinner with Haechan. It was his idea, of course. He’d texted you the moment you told him the news, insisting you couldn’t let something this big slide by without a proper celebration.

Prior to the dinner, you had grabbed your coat and prepared to meet Haechan, your phone buzzed. It was Karina.

Karina: CONGRATULATIONS ON THE PROMO BABE!! how are we celebrating tonight?!

You sighed, leaning against the wall as you typed back quickly, realizing you’ve been so busy with Haechan, you never got around to telling her what’s really going on.

You: thank you babe!!! and about that… i’m actually going out to dinner.. with haechan lmao.

The three dots appeared immediately.

Karina: HAECHAN?! as in jeno’s best friend haechan?? the same guy who’s always flirting with you, haechan???

Biting your lip, you debated what to tell her. For a brief moment, you considered lying, but Karina was your best friend. If anyone deserved the truth, it was her.

You hit the call button instead, knowing a text wouldn’t do it justice.

“I swear, it’s not what you think,” you started the moment she picked up.

“What?! I was just starting to get excited!” Karina replied, her voice sharp with curiosity. “Explain yourself.”

“It’s… complicated,” you admitted, chewing on your bottom lip. “Haechan and I are fake dating. Just for a while.”

There was silence on the other end. Then: “You’re WHAT?”

“It’s a long story,” you rushed on before she could interrupt. “My family’s been nagging me to get my life together, so Haechan offered to pretend to be my boyfriend. It’s nothing real—we’re just buying me some time until they get off my back.” you lower your tone, thanking God, Jeno was gaming in the other room, unable to hear you.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said flatly. “This is the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever done.”

“I know,” you groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “But it’s working. Sort of.”

Karina sighed dramatically, though you could hear the smile in her voice. “Okay, but if you catch feelings, I’m saying ‘I told you so’ first. Good luck surviving a fake relationship with someone who’s totally into you.”

After hanging up and adjusting your coat, you took one final look at yourself in the mirror. If there was anyone who would tell it like it is, it was Karina. As much as she swore Haechan was into you, a small voice in the back of your mind insisted you were overthinking it. Maybe he just wanted some fun.

You couldn’t ignore the facts. Based on his past relationships, Haechan had always jumped from one person to another, or things simply didn’t work out at all. He’d brushed it off before, claiming those weren’t real relationships—just distractions to keep him occupied, but that was years ago, before the two of you had grown closer as friends.

Since then, he’d been single. So what if this “fake relationship” was just his way of chasing the thrill he used to have? A perfect opportunity for fun without the mess of commitment.

The thought settled uncomfortably in your chest, but you pushed it away, letting out one last sigh before stepping out to meet him.

You’d briefly considered telling Jeno about your big news—maybe even inviting him out to celebrate—but the thought quickly passed. The last thing you wanted was to hear yet another lecture or feel the weight of someone else rushing your success. Tonight was about you, and for once, you wanted peace.

If there was anyone you’d rather spend the night celebrating with, it was Haechan. That alone felt like more than enough.

“You didn’t have to go all out like this,” you said, gesturing toward the table, where your favorite dishes sat alongside the drinks he’d ordered for both of you.

“I absolutely did,” Haechan replied, pouring you another shot, his grin smug but genuine. “You’re a big shot now, Miss Genius Full-Timer. I figured it’s only fair to treat you like one.”

You snorted, shaking your head, but you couldn’t hide the smile spreading across your face. “A genius, huh? I’ll remind you of that next time you call me boring for working late.”

He laughed, leaning back in his seat. “Fair enough, but seriously, I’m proud of you. You worked your ass off for this, you deserve it.”

His words caught you off guard. It wasn’t just what he said, but the way he said it—softly, earnestly, without a hint of his usual teasing tone. You stared at him for a moment, feeling an unfamiliar warmth in your chest.

“Thanks, Hyuck,” you said quietly, and for a second, you let yourself sit in the moment.

Of course, Haechan couldn’t let things stay serious for too long. “Don’t get all sentimental on me now,” he teased, raising his shot glass with a wink. “To the coolest, smartest, and prettiest girlfriend I’ve ever had.”

The verbiage caught you off guard, wondering if he meant to say it like that. You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks flushed despite yourself. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re the one drinking with me, so what does that say about you?”

You shook your head, raising your glass anyway. “To me, I guess.”

“To you,” he echoed, clinking his glass against yours once more.

The two of you lingered at the restaurant longer than you expected, your conversations flowing easily between teasing banter and genuine moments of reflection. Haechan had a way of making you forget about the pressure—of making even the most overwhelming days feel a little less heavy.

When the bill arrived, you instinctively reached for your purse, but he waved you off with a look of mock offense. “Put that away. I told you this was my treat.”

“Haechan, you really don’t have to—”

“I’ll start a tab and make Jeno pay if you keep arguing,” he cut in smoothly, flashing that infuriating grin of his. “Let me have my moment.”

You sighed but relented, tucking your wallet back into your bag. “Okay… but I’m paying next time.”

“We’ll see about that,” he replied, standing up and holding your coat out for you like a gentleman.

As the two of you walked out into the crisp night air, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. Haechan noticed immediately. It could be the buzz from the drinks you two shared but something about being in his presence was better than anything else.

“What’s that look for?” he asked, narrowing his eyes playfully.

“Nothing,” you replied quickly, though you couldn’t stop the grin tugging at your lips. “It’s just… tonight was really nice. I needed it.”

His teasing expression softened into something warmer. “Anytime, beautiful.”

You looked away, suddenly too aware of how close he was as you walked side by side. Your heart fluttered for reasons you refused to admit to yourself, and you cursed the way he always managed to affect you without even trying.

It’s just Hyuck, you reminded yourself. This is just part of the plan.

As your hands brushed against each other, his fingers found yours. For a moment, you blamed it on the alcohol, but when neither of you pulled away, your fingers interlocked naturally. Haechan smiled at you—soft, content, and just a little smug. At that moment, you weren’t sure who you were trying to convince anymore.

“Wanna come over to my place?” he asked casually, though there was a playful glint in his eyes.

“Sure,” you replied with a soft grin, “as long as it’s clean this time.”

He groaned dramatically. “That was one time! I’ll have you know my place is spotless these days.” He paused, grinning smugly. “If you don’t believe me, I can show you how clean my bed is.”

“Nice try,” you shot back, rolling your eyes as you nudged him playfully. “Good luck with that.”

Even as you teased him, you didn’t let go of his hand, and neither did he.

His place was definitely a lot cleaner than you remembered—actually, it felt more spacious too. Haechan took your coat from you with a small smile, letting you bask in the warmth and comfort of his apartment.

“Told you so,” he said smugly as he hung your coat up.

“You planned this out, didn’t you?” you teased, narrowing your eyes at him.

He chuckled, the sound low and easy. “Yeah, sure, baby.”

There he went again, throwing out those pet names when they were completely unnecessary. You rolled your eyes, pretending it didn’t affect you as much as it did.

You made your way to the couch, settling in as Haechan returned with two glasses of wine, setting them carefully on the coffee table. “More alcohol to celebrate,” he announced, flashing you a grin as he sat down beside you.

“So what show are you feeling?” he asked, his arm draping over the back of the couch, close but not quite touching you.

You glanced around his apartment, your eyes catching on his speakers. Bringing the glass to your lips for a small sip, you made a suggestion instead. “How about we just listen to music and talk?”

Haechan paused for a moment before nodding, a smirk pulling at his lips. “That’s why you’re the genius—you come up with all the good ideas.” He shot you a wink before moving to connect his phone to the speaker.

Soft R&B melted into the room, filling the air with an atmosphere that felt too intimate, too comfortable. Haechan returned to his spot next to you, a little closer this time, the space between you barely there. His arm slid along the back of the couch, and you could feel the warmth of him radiating beside you.

“What’s on your mind tonight?” he asked softly, his voice so casual yet so deliberate.

Him.

If you were being honest, it was all him—the tension that had been building between you two, the countless hours spent together that made the line between friendship and something more blurrier by the day. You’d felt it in the way his teasing turned softer, in the glances that lingered a beat too long.

Now, sitting here with his deep brown eyes meeting yours, you couldn’t deny it. The way his lips looked so… desirable. The way his hair fell perfectly against his forehead, sometimes parting in that effortlessly cute way. Or the fact that half the time, you forgot what he was saying because you’d gotten distracted staring at the faint moles scattered across his face.

You swallowed thickly and told yourself it was just the alcohol talking.

You licked your lips nervously, unable to stop your gaze from flickering to his mouth as you shifted on the couch. “Can I ask you something?” you murmured.

“Anything,” he replied without hesitation, his stare deepening as he looked at you.

You exhaled softly, your fingers tightening around your wine glass. “Why all the pet names? I mean, Jeno’s not here, so who are we trying to fool?” Your voice was steady, but your eyes betrayed you—they lingered on his lips, no matter how much you fought it.

Haechan noticed. Of course he noticed.

He shifted closer, the arm behind you dipping lower until you could feel his presence surrounding you. “Who said anything about wanting to fool around?” he asked, his voice dropping to something almost husky.

You blinked at him, breath hitching as the room suddenly felt much smaller.

“What if I like it?” he continued, his lips a breath away from yours now. “What if I mean all of it? Would that be a problem, sweetheart?”

You couldn’t look away—couldn’t move, couldn’t think. Your gaze fell to his mouth as your pulse raced, and then you felt it; the careful weight of his hand resting on your thigh, his fingers light but deliberate.

Your breath stuttered, and you looked down, hyper aware of every single point of contact between the two of you.

This wasn’t really happening, was it? But as Haechan tilted his head slightly, his gaze never leaving yours, you weren’t so sure anymore.

"I asked you a question," he murmured, his voice low and dripping with intent. His hands slid slowly toward your waist, fingers brushing against your skin in a way that left you breathless.

"But.. we’re just friends—shit—Donghyuck..." you gasped, his name falling from your lips like a plea as his hands gripped your waist firmly, his breath hot against the sensitive curve of your neck.

"Just tell me this isn't what you want, and I'll stop," he whispered, his tone soft but urgent. "Baby, can I touch you? Is this okay?"

His pleading eyes never left yours, and the vulnerability in them sent your heart racing.

The goosebumps on your skin were undeniable, and any lingering sense of shame had long since dissolved.

Your mind felt like a chaotic blur, thoughts sprinting faster than you could keep up. One moment, the two of you had been laughing over dinner, and now you were practically under him, struggling to remember how to breathe.

"Yes," you confessed. your voice is small, shaky but sure. "Please... continue," you begged, your words barely above a whisper.

A slow, wicked grin spread across his lips just before he leaned in, capturing your mouth with his.

The kiss started slow, deep but measured, like he was savoring every second, every taste, as if this might be his last chance. His hands explored your body with an intensity that made your skin burn, like his touch was the only thing grounding him to this moment.

Your body felt alive, every nerve ending ignited as desire pulsed through you. You didn't care that this was the same Haechan you had sworn weeks ago was just a friend.

Right now, all you cared about was the way he made you feel-the way you wanted him, desperately and without hesitation.

As the kiss grew heavier, your confidence swelled. You pushed him back slightly, straddling his lap, your hands finding the hem of your shirt. In one quick motion, you tugged it off, tossing it aside before glancing down at him breathless.

His dark, hungry gaze roamed over your newly exposed skin, his lips parting as his chest rose and fell heavily. "Fuck, baby," he muttered, his voice thick with desire. "You have no idea how many times I've dreamt of this."

His eyes lingered on every curve, taking you in like you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

Heat rushed to your face, a flush rising from a combination of the wine and the shy vulnerability creeping back in. Instinctively, you shifted to hide yourself, but his hands shot up, gripping your wrists gently but firmly.

"No, no, baby," he said, shaking his head. His voice softened, his gaze steady and filled with adoration. "Don't hide from me. Don't ever be shy about a body this beautiful."

Before you could protest, his lips descended on your skin, planting slow, deliberate kisses along the curve of your shoulder, down your collarbone, and across the sensitive expanse of your chest.

The contact was electrifying. Every kiss, every graze of his lips sent a spark of pleasure shooting through your veins. His tongue flicked against your skin, and as he tugged your bra off with a practiced ease, tossing it somewhere out of sight, the rest of your inhibitions melted away.

"God," he groaned against your skin, his voice muffled but filled with need.

His arms wrapped around you, lifting you with ease. The sudden movement made you gasp, your legs instinctively tightening around him.

Haechan carried you to his room, his lips never straying far from yours as he kicked the door open. He placed you down on the bed with care, hovering over you as his hands worked swiftly to rid you of the rest of your clothes.

His gaze darkened as he drank in the sight of you, bare and vulnerable beneath him.

"You're perfect," he said, almost to himself, as he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours again with an urgency that left you breathless.

His hands roamed your body, his touch igniting every inch of your skin, and as his own clothes joined the pile on the floor, all you could think was how badly you needed him.

“You’re always trying to deny me, but look at this,” he proceeds to hold your legs apart, his fingers slowly grazing against your core, covering them in your wetness as you let out a groan.

He hovers over you once more—shoving his fingers in your mouth. “So fucking wet for me and I haven’t even fucked you yet. Go ahead baby, taste yourself for me.”

You ran your tongue along his soaked fingers, savoring every trace of yourself before sucking on them greedily. When your taste was no longer there, all you could think about was wanting to taste him instead.

“Fuck,” he curses out, his eyes watching as you take his fingers between your lips. His cock starts twitching when your tongue starts lapping against them.

“Please, Hyuck..” you pleaded, your voice trembling with need.

“Speak up,” he grabs you by your thighs and yanks you closer to his mouth. “Tell me what you want and how you want it.”

“I... I want to feel your mouth please. Please, Hyuck, I want you to fuck me,” you look down and find his eyes locked on you, looking nearly possessed.

You felt his breath against your cunt as he let out a low laugh laced with something dark. Before you could say anything— he laps his tongue slowly against your entrance, making sure to savor every part of you.

“Holy fuck…” you gasped, the pressure and intensity building as his pace quickened. Who would’ve guessed your best friend had such a way with his mouth?

The lewd sounds of your cunt get louder as he shoves two fingers inside of you, and he begins sucking on your clit. He gave you no time to catch your breath, keeping his relentless pace until he finally found your sweet spot, making you squirm.

“Tastes so fucking good—I should’ve done this the first time I laid eyes on you. Look at you, my pretty girl is going crazy while I fuck you with just my fingers,” he fastens his pace against your spot and starts attacking your swollen clit with his tongue again.

You swore on your life you saw stars—and you hadn’t even finished yet. Your body was teetering on the edge, the feeling overwhelming, when suddenly he stopped.

Your head snapped towards his bedside table, the moment interrupted by the buzz of your phone vibrating against the wood. The flashing light of the screen read: Incoming Call: Jeno (Brother).

Your eyes widened, heat rushing to your face, but before you could even process the situation, Haechan was already looking at you, his expression unreadable.

“Don’t stop,” you pleaded, your voice trembling with desperation. “Please, Hyuck, I’m so close. Just ignore it.”

But instead of obliging, he pulled his fingers out of you with maddening precision, leaving you gasping at the sudden emptiness. His other hand reached for your phone, and before you could protest, he handed it to you.

“Pick it up,” he said firmly, his tone low and serious, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“What—” you started, your voice barely above a whisper, but he cut you off.

Without warning, he answered the call for you, setting it on speaker.

“Where are you? You’ve been out all night, and you’re not answering my texts. Are you okay?” Jeno’s familiar voice rang out, concern laced with irritation.

Your breath hitched, shame and annoyance flashing across your face as you met Haechan’s gaze. His lips curved into the faintest smirk, his hand now resting possessively on your thigh, fingers tracing patterns.

As you open your mouth to answer, Haechan holds his cock against your folds, slowly gliding it against the mess he caused, leaving you breathless once again.

“I-I’m okay. I’m with Karina.” You bite your lip trying to suppress a moan as you watch Haechan start to insert himself into you slowly.

“Okay, that’s fine. Are you going to sleep over at her place tonight or do you need me to come and get you?” He asked, completely unaware of the situation.

You can’t do this. The feeling of his length stretching you— filling you up slowly was too much for you to handle. You started to feel your eyes rolling back.

“Hello?? I asked you a question,” Jeno’s voice snapped through the speaker.

Your eyes flew open, and you were met with Haechan’s piercing gaze. His expression was dangerously calm, but the slow, deliberate way he began to withdraw from you sent a clear message, answer him.

“No!” you yelled abruptly, your voice shaky and desperate. “No, don’t pick me up! I—I’m sleeping over at Karina’s. I’ll text you in the morning, bye!”

“Um, okay, but—”

You hung up on him before he could finish, tossing the phone onto the table and turning to Haechan with a pout.

He snickers at you, shoving his length deeper into you. “Good girl. Since you did so well for me, I’ll let you cum around my cock. Huh baby, is that what you want?” He teases as his hips start moving faster.

“Yes, fuck” you moan. “Please Donghyuck, don’t stop—don’t stop!” You move your hips, bringing yourself closer to him. You take in every inch of feeling as his tip continues hitting the same spot from earlier—and his balls slapping against your lips with each thrust.

“You just couldn’t wait for this, hm? Years of teasing me and you could’ve had this all along, shit—“ he seethes as he feels your walls clench around him.

“This sweet pussy is all mine, right baby?” Haechan grabs your chin and holds your face, locking eye contact.

His eyes burned with an intensity you’d never seen before, locking onto you with an unwavering focus that made your breath catch. Your mouth was dry, parted slightly, but no sound escaped—and he noticed. The way his gaze flicked to your lips, sharp and deliberate, sent a shiver down your spine.

He spits into your mouth and pounds harder, “answer me now.”

“It’s all yours, Donghyuck!” You scream, then swallow, gaining your voice back and your walls squeezing against him again as you're about to reach your high.

He smirks and to finish you off he attaches his lips to your hardened nipples, playing with them as he focuses on your walls clenching around him.

“Donghyuck!” You scream one last time as you cum around him, your body giving in and your nails practically clawing down his back as you cling onto him for your sanity.

He lets out a high pitched moan, music to your ears as he caught up to his release shortly after, dumping his load onto your stomach. He slumps himself right beside you as you both catch your breath.

What. Just. Happened.

You lay there, staring at the ceiling, your chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath. A whirlwind of thoughts raced through your mind as you kept asking yourself the same questions. You wanted to wish for regret, to muster the energy to question him—or maybe even sneak away. But your body was too drained, and a bigger part of you didn’t want to leave.

“Are you okay?” Haechan’s voice broke the silence, soft yet laced with concern as the two of you began to recover.

“Yeah, I’m good. Um… are you okay?” you asked awkwardly, your voice quieter than you intended.

You heard the smallest chuckle escape his lips, warm and teasing in a way that made your cheeks flush. “A thousand times more than just okay,” he murmured, his words sending a strange mix of comfort and flustered warmth through you.

He sat up, reaching over to the side table to grab a tissue. Gently, he cleaned you up, his touch careful and deliberate, as if he were handling something precious.

“What… what was that?” you asked carefully, your voice soft and unsure, afraid to ruin the moment.

“Call it your congratulations present,” he replied, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. “We can talk more about it in the morning, yeah? For now, let me take care of you and get you to sleep before Jeno starts figuring out you’re not actually at Karina’s.”

You let out a small shriek, covering your face with your hands. “What did you make me do?!”

He laughed, pulling you into his arms as he tugged the quilt over the both of you. “Relax,” he said, his voice warm and amused. “You played it off really well.”

Groaning into his chest, you felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you, but it was quickly replaced by something deeper—a warmth, a sense of safety you hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Fine,” you mumbled, your voice muffled against him. “We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

His arms tightened around you, and he kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering just enough to make your heart flutter. As his steady breaths surrounded you, you found yourself growing drowsy, your body relaxing in the comfort of his embrace.

And just for tonight, you allowed yourself to believe that this wasn’t just pretend.

‧˚⭒ taglist: @jaeminnanaaa17 @scoobysnackszoo @1800-jigglemywiggle @karmasbestie @cathamada @yoursyuno @oneeew @serenedreamscape @moryymor @yesohhsehun @dnihyuck

[smileysuh]

forget him

🌙 staring. Haechan x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “What if… what if I helped you out a little?” His words hang in the air, and your room feels thick with tension. You’re acutely aware of the toy still pressed between your thighs. “Look,” Hyuck says, voice softer, “I hate seeing you cry- but seeing you cry about something good might make us both feel better.”

tw/cw. recent breakup, fingering, Hyuck walks in while y/n is masturbating, masturbation, assisted masturbation, toy/dildo use, overstimulation, dacryphilia, reader has multiple orgasms, squirting, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, big dick Hyuck, pussy stretching, dirty talk, praise, talking about y/n's ex while they fuck, marking/claim kink, full/breeding kink, etc… I pet names: (hers) gorgeous, babe, good girl.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 7.1k

🍭 aus. friends to lovers, roommates au, recent breakup, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. When I tell you I need to be demolished by this Hyuck-

Hyuck absolutely hates seeing you like this. 

He’d thought it had been hard seeing you in love with his best friend Mark Lee, but seeing you in the throws of depression after your recent breakup takes the cake for Hyuck when it comes to him having a straight up horrible time.

Obviously, you have it worse, and he’s not trying to contest that fact- he just hadn’t realized that when the thing he’d been hoping for actually came to pass- it would feel this bad. 

In the dark reaches of his mind, he wonders if he’d had something to do with the separation, although, in truth, he knows that’s ridiculous. He’d been as supportive as a friend and roommate could be about you and Mark. He’d forced smiles and words of encouragement when you’d gushed through the talking phase. He’d found ways to ditch the apartment when you and Mark started to get physical, doing his best to give you privacy while getting high as a kite at Lee Jeno’s place to distract himself from the fact that you were getting railed by someone other than him. And now, he supposes, he’s doing his due diligence in making you feel better when you’re at your worst.

Hyuck’s doing the best he can to make things easy for you. He’s set up movie days, and he’s made you ramen. He’s allowed you to shuffle closer to him on the couch, even resting your head on his shoulder any time you start to tear up. He’s paused films to listen to you explain things like “When Mark and I watched this, he would always get so excited when Totoro would show up” or “Mark hated No Face.” 

He wonders if doing a Ghibli marathon is the best idea, given how much you associate it with Mark, but when he’d asked you about it and you insisted you would feel better watching the films, he’d left it at that.

You’re your own person, and Hyuck’s always trusted you to make the best decisions for yourself… even when he doesn’t agree with them.

Cuddled next to you on your living room couch, Hyuck does his best just to be there for you. He ignores the boys’ group chat messages, where other friends are taking care of Mark. As far as Hyuck’s concerned, he’s team you, all the way, and he always has been.

He notices the way you start to shift next to him, pulling away from his shoulder to stretch your arms over your head.

“You good?” Hyuck asks, looking away from the movie to give you his complete and undivided attention.

“Yeah,” you sigh, frowning slightly. “Just tired.”

“Do you want to go to bed?” He studies your face, noticing all the signs of exhaustion- although, to be fair, you’ve been a sleepy wreck of a thing since your breakup two weeks ago.

“I probably should,” you concede, taking another deep breath. “Thanks for making me dinner and watching movies with me.”

“Don’t mention it,” Hyuck says, flashing you a small smile as he straightens in his seat, reaching for the remote to stop the movie.

“You’ve been so nice since… since the whole Mark thing.” He can see you swallowing back tears, and you reach up to wipe your eye with the sleeve of your hoodie. 

“That’s what friends are for,” Hyuck assures you, although, his attention toward you has always far surpassed that of a friend. It’s a shame you’ve never realized that fact.

“Just… thanks,” you say again, holding open your arms for a hug that Hyuck is more than happy to give you. 

He adjusts on the couch, leaning forward to scoop you into his arms. Your cheek presses to his shoulder and he breathes in the smell of your fruity body wash. He tries his best not to hug you too hard- because if he did, you might actually realize that every time you hug him, he has no true intention of ever letting you go. 

“Sleep well, okay, gorgeous?” he prompts, stroking your hair and using the petname he’d given you far before you’d ever met Mark. “You really need your rest.”

“I’ll do my best,” you assure him, giving one last gentle squeeze before you pull away.

Hyuck watches you stand up, your hoodie skimming your mid thigh. He knows you’re wearing sleeping shorts under the oversized fabric, but he can’t help but swallow thickly, imagining what it would be like if you were just in panties.

He really has to get his mind out of the gutter, and Hyuck knows that- he’s been trying to, in all honesty he has- but it’s been four years of knowing you, one of living together, and he still can’t manage to keep his thoughts PG. 

With one last small smile, you turn and begin to shuffle to your room.

He misses your lively movements. The first night you’d moved in together, you’d had a small dance party together, and Hyuck’s always been adamant that no one’s hips move like yours do. 

He misses your joy. The way you sparkle when you’re happy. You used to smile like a kid in a candy shop anytime you watched your favourite movies or ate the ramen he’d made for you, but these days, the most you can muster is a small upquirk of the sides of your lips.

Hyuck wants to make you smile again. He’s just not sure how to do it. 

He knows you need time. Time heals all wounds, or so they say. He just wishes he could fast track your recovery.

Your bedroom door shuts and the spell of watching you is broken. Hyuck takes a deep breath, looking around the messy living room. There are blankets and pillows strewn all over, take out boxes from your day inside, tissues from when you’d cried. 

He’s not generally known to be the cleanest man around town, but Hyuck feels that in times like these, the least he can do is keep things tidy. He’s sure you’ll feel better to come out of your room every morning to a nice apartment, so he begins his work of collecting water cups and take away boxes. 

You’ve definitely lost your spark, and Hyuck thinks maybe he has too. He’s used to playing music loudly, using it as energy at all hours of the day, but tonight, while he cleans, he keeps things quiet. His head is full, and his ears are on edge, paying attention to the sounds coming from your room.

In those first days after the breakup, he’d heard you crying a lot, and he’s sure that barging into your room to give you a hug had cheered you up. He’s hoping it won’t be necessary today. 

As much as he loves hugging you, seeing you cry always makes him feel like someone is trying to tear open his chest and clench his heart. It’s an ache he doesn’t enjoy.

When you’d moved in together, he’d decided that as a girl - with monthly girl issues - you should have the bigger room with the connected bathroom, and he listens to the sound of you brushing your teeth and getting ready for bed. 

You begin to hum something, and Hyuck realizes it’s the first time he’s heard you sing since your breakup. 

Maybe tonight will be a good night.

Hyuck has moved all the clutter to the kitchen, and he begins to put stuff in the garbage and dishwasher while he listens to you hum. He thinks about the day you met, at uni orientation. He’d never become friends with someone so fast in his life, and when you’d discovered you had three of five classes together- well, he’s never looked back, not for one second.

He wonders how things would be different if he’d ever manned up and told you how he felt- how he feels- how his affection for you has only been growing and growing- 

Hyuck finds himself heading to the fridge and taking out a beer. He hasn’t been drinking much since you and Mark broke up, hasn’t needed the mind-numbing effects of alcohol, so when he takes a large swig, he finds that it immediately takes the edge off. 

He can’t be thinking about wifing you up right now- no matter how much he might wish to.

Although… as he leans against the sink and downs the can, grabbing another, he begins to wonder if offering himself up to you as a distraction really would be the worst thing in the world. 

Sure, it wouldn’t be the way he’d want to start things with you- but maybe he could make you fall in love with him and forget all about Mark Lee. However, in all honesty, he’d probably be risking your friendship. 

He’s played this mind game with himself too many times before, and Hyuck always finds himself at a stalemate. Frustration bubbles up inside and he looks out at the living room, determined to set himself back on the task of cleaning.

Hyuck throws the pillows onto the couch, and he even begins to fold up a blanket, and that’s when he hears a familiar sound.

You’ve never been the type to seek much affection, especially when you’re in your room, so whenever he’s caught you crying, it’s always started with a whimper.

What Hyuck’s just heard was definitely a whimper, and his whole body surges with white-hot, electric energy, his eyes darting to your door. His breath catches, and he tosses the blanket down to the ground, frozen as he waits for another sound of distress. 

A small gasp can be heard under the crack of your door, and Hyuck’s body bolts into action. He’s moving so fast he stumbles a little over his own feet just as he reaches your room, and he wonders if drinking two beers was a good idea. His hand lands on your door, and he knocks aggressively.

“You okay in there, gorgeous?” he calls.

“I’m fine!” you respond, but there’s definitely an edge to your voice. 

He can tell something is wrong- can tell you’re lying to him, and in a split second, Hyuck is making a decision. 

“I’m coming in.”

You let out a small squeak of surprise, tearing your hand away from the toy still lodged inside of you so you can pull the blankets up around your shoulders, jaw dropping as your roommate barges into your room.

“Hyuck!”

He stands in the doorway, studying you, and you can see a look of confusion cross his face. “I thought I heard you crying.”

“I’m not crying!” you insist, core clenching around the dildo. “Get out!” 

Hyuck doesn’t move. “I definitely heard a whimper,” he insists.

Your heart is practically racing in your chest, and you’re very much aware of the pleasurable feeling still thrumming from your core. Cock warming was something you enjoyed doing with Mark, and the fact that you’re cock warming a toy while Hyuck stares at you is having a wholly unexpected effect on your entire body.

“People whimper for all sorts of reasons!” you say dumbly. “Leave!”

Hyuck tilts his head to the side, assessing you again. “You never speak to me like this.”

“You usually don’t just barge in here unannounced!” 

“Yes, I do,” Hyuck points out. “Why’s tonight different?”

“What do you mean-”

“Something is different,” he says, more firmly this time. His gaze dips, taking in the blanket still wrapped tightly around your form. “Wait…” you see the exact moment he realizes what you’re up to, and even from a few feet away, you see the way his pupils dilate. “Are you…”

“Hyuck-” you groan, lifting the blankets to hide your face, hoping he can’t see the shame that’s beginning to consume you.

“You are, aren’t you?” 

“Are what?” you ask, deciding to play dumb.

You can hear him scoff, and you peak from under the blanket just in time to see his signature eye roll. His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek, something he does when he’s getting annoyed, and you can feel yourself dripping down your dildo. 

He meets your gaze again. “I didn’t hear a vibrator, so let me guess…” You watch him swallow thickly. “The toy’s still inside of you, isn’t it?”

Curse him for knowing you so well.

Curse him for having a dirty mind.

And maybe most of all, curse yourself for being so stupidly turned on that you can’t even deny what he’s just said. All you can do is groan loudly, hiding again. 

“Do you want me to leave?” he asks after a beat of silence.

“Yes!”

You hear him click his tongue. “Come on, gorgeous. We both know I can tell when you lie to me. We’ve been friends for years, you don’t have to be… ashamed about this.”

But shame is exactly what you’re feeling, and his words don’t help at all. 

“Please, just leave,” you sigh, so embarrassed you think you might actually die.

“What if… what if I helped you out a little?”

His words hang in the air, and your room feels thick with tension. You’re acutely aware of the toy still pressed between your thighs.  

“Look,” Hyuck says, voice softer, “I hate seeing you cry- but seeing you cry about something good might make us both feel better.” 

“You’re being crazy.” You peak out at him. “We’re roommates- Mark is one of your best friends-”

“I’ve known you longer and I’m loyal to you,” Hyuck insists firmly. “And besides, stranger things have happened.”

“Yeah? Like what?” you can’t help but laugh a little, and the contraction of your stomach muscles pushes the toy slightly out of your core, making you groan at the loss.

From the look that crosses Hyuck’s face, he obviously notices your sound, and you watch his tongue dart out to wet his lips. “For one, the fact that you even dated Mark was a little crazy.”

“He’s a nice guy.”

“But nice doesn’t fill you up at night. Nice doesn’t make you cum so hard you feel it through your whole body.” Hyuck holds up a hand. “And before you try to tell me Mark was good in bed, remember that I have a room next to yours. Mark is a nice guy, but that doesn’t mean he can fuck. Not the way you deserve.” 

You shift in your bed, sitting up a little to address your roommate. “Yeah? And how do I deserve to be fucked?” 

“You deserve someone who’s going to worship every inch of you. Someone who’s going to make you cum over and over- make you gush so good you’re begging for it, begging to finally get dicked down so hard you can’t even walk after. Someone who makes you cry for all the right reasons.” 

You stare at Hyuck. 

You’re not even sure what to say. 

He’s never talked like this to you, ever- at least, not in your waking hours.

You’ve had dreams about his sharp tongue, his long fingers, and his big cock- but never gave credence to your lustful fantasies. Hyuck’s always just been a friend- 

“Why now?” you find yourself asking. “After all this time-”

“I’m tired of watching you hurt over something I might be able to help you fix.”

“So cock is the fix to a broken heart?” 

“Gorgeous, I think we both know that what I’m offering you is more than cock.”

“Right, I’m guessing tongue and fingers-”

Hyuck gives you an unimpressed look. “Are you really going to make me say it?”

“Say what?”

“That I’m super into you? That I’ve been into you since we met? That it killed me to watch you be with Mark when I knew you should have been with me?” 

“Hyuck-” you breathe, feeling even more whiplash from these words than his dirty talk.

“Look, you don’t have to say anything about that stupid feels shit, just… just let me take care of you tonight.”

“What if we regret it?” You press your thighs together, keeping the toy just inside of you while you begin to fidget with your blanket. “What if it ruins our friendship?”

“I’ve asked myself that same question for years,” Hyuck admits. “But… after looking at you now- I really don’t think that’s something we have to worry about.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I’m about to make you cum so hard you forget about every other man in your life.”

“Promise?”

He nods. “Promise.” 

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Hyuck lets out a small laugh. “So… you going to lift those covers and let me see what I’m dealing with or…?”

“God,” you groan, hiding your face in your hands. “This is so embarrassing.”

“I call you gorgeous for a reason, don’t I?” Hyuck grins. “Come on, I wanna see.”

You grab at the blankets, taking a deep breath. Then you start to move them off your body.

Your roommate watches your every movement, dipping his head to focus as you lift the fabric covering your feet, then your calves-

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” you tell him.

“Yeah, me neither,” Hyuck admits. “I’ve been waiting so long to see you like this.” 

His words make your stomach erupt in butterflies, and you feel the toy still half wedged in your core. “Should I… should I remove the dildo first?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I wanna see that too.” His eyes meet yours. “Don’t be embarrassed. You’re so fucking hot, I’m already hard.”

He reaches a hand down to cup the front of his sweatpants, and you realize he’s not lying. You can see the impressive print of his cock pressing against the fabric, and it makes your mouth water. It also gives you the confidence to fully reveal yourself to his hungry eyes, and the moment he sees you, Hyuck lets out a deep groan.

“Shit, gorgeous,” Hyuck says, letting out a deep breath. “You’re even more perfect than I’ve imagined.”

His words make you feel shy, and you close your legs, only for Hyuck to press a knee to the bed, both hands reaching out to prompt your thighs back open. 

“Don’t hide from me,” he warns, and there’s an edge to his tone. He’s still being soft with you, his touch gentle, but there’s an obvious hunger rising inside of him. “Tell me about this toy.”

“Well, I uh…” you search for your words. “It’s one of the first ones I ever bought-”

“It’s small,” Hyuck notes, which is kind of funny considering it’s Mark sized. “Can I use it on you?”

“You want to fuck me with the toy?” You blink at your long term friend and roommate.

“Gotta stretch you out to take something bigger.” Hyuck smirks devilishly, and your pussy throbs- he’s definitely bigger than Mark and the toy still half lodged inside of you. You can’t wait to find out how much bigger. 

“You can-” you bite at your lip, “you can fuck me with it.”

“Good girl,” Hyuck praises you, and you can feel yourself practically dripping around the dildo now.

You hold your breath in anticipation while Hyuck gets settled on the foot of the bed. His warm palms smooth over your thighs, forcing you wider, and then his fingers grab the base of the toy. “Do you like it slow?”

“I think… to start off with?” You feel too hazy to be able to answer questions, and he hasn’t even started with you. “But… when you fuck me, can you go fast, please?”

“Of course, gorgeous. I can do anything you want,” he assures you, applying pressure to the toy so it begins to lodge deeper inside of you. You let out a small sigh and Hyuck looks up at you, grinning. “You’re so wet, babe, making this too fucking easy.”

“It’s not my fault-” you defend yourself, voice shaky. 

“It’s mine, isn’t it?” His smile widens. “Talking dirty gets you going, huh, gorgeous?”

You nod, resting your head back against the pillows and closing your eyes to enjoy the feeling of him beginning to work the toy in and out of your pussy. 

“Bet Mark’s dirty talk game was weak,” Hyuck says under his breath.

You don’t have it in you to agree with him, although… he’s correct. Something tells you he knows it too, because he lets out a small chuckle. 

Hyuck’s using his right hand to fuck you with the toy, and his left moves from your thigh. A moment later, his thumb is rubbing gentle circles on your clit and your toes curl from the stimulation. A gentle gasp escapes you and you can practically hear Hyuck smile.

“Feels good?” he prompts.

“So good,” you nod. You need something to hold onto, so you grab at the one piece of clothing on your body, a night shirt, which you lift up your to your abdomen, giving Hyuck more room to work. 

He rubs your clit harder and you let out a whine, feeling the familiar build of tension in the pit of your stomach.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” Hyuck tells you, and you can feel his breath on your pussy which makes you twitch. “God, I could watch you squirm like this all night.”

“Please-”

“Please what?” 

You don’t even know. All you know is listening to the squelching sound of the toy going in and out of you while his thumb rubs your clit is driving you insane.

“I want to kiss you,” you decide, realizing Hyuck’s about to make you cum and you haven’t even really gotten a taste of him. 

Hyuck stops what he’s doing immediately, manuevering up the bed so he’s on top of you, one hand pressed to the pillow while he looks down at you.

“Hi, gorgeous,” he grins.

Your hands explore his shoulders and one snakes into his hair, then you’re tugging his mouth down to your own. Hyuck’s gentle with you at first, but when you go to bite on his lower lip, he groans loudly. His tongue darts out to brush against your own, and the kiss deepens. 

You’re done with your toy. You want to feel him, and you reach between your bodies to remove the dildo, pulling it out and tossing it onto the floor next to the bed.

Hyuck breaks your kiss to look at the wet toy on the ground, and he lets out a small laugh, gaze returning to your own. “Why’d you do that?”

“I want you.”

“Yeah?” His hand slips between your forms, and two digits stroke the length of your pussy, making you moan. “Want me to make you cum all over my fingers?”

You nod, grabbing at the front of his shirt, tugging his mouth back to yours while he buries himself into you knuckle deep.

He strokes your walls, and the feeling is absolutely delightful, especially when he angles his hand, palm pressing to your clit while he seeks out your gspot. 

His lips are hot against your own, and they don’t muffle the sound of pleasure escaping you. 

Hyuck’s a bit of a gamer, but you never really realized his fingers could feel this good- 

“Shit, gorgeous,” he groans, breaking the kiss to move his mouth to your throat, where he lets out deep breaths. “You’re dripping all over my hand.”

“I’m so close-” you confess, gripping his shoulders tighter while he finger fucks you even harder, chasing your release.

“You’ll be a good girl and cum for me, right?” Hyuck prompts, which makes you mewl. “Yeah, you’ve always been such a good girl, gonna be good and cum all over my fingers-”

His words make you throb, and he applies more pressure to your clit with his palm. His lips press kisses to your neck and he finds your sweetspot, making everything feel all the more intense.

You’re on the edge, and you let out a loud gasp, clenching your eyes shut in anticipation.

“Cum for me, gorgeous. Come on, I wanna feel you.”

His words make the cord in your stomach snap, and your body is flooded with the pleasure of your release. You feel it everywhere, and it makes you cry out while holding onto him tighter. His hand continues between your thighs, fingers unrelenting, palm heavy on your clit. 

Hyuck works you through your orgasm until you’re gasping and pushing at his shoulders, and then he straightens a little, motions stopping while he looks down at you. “Did you enjoy that?”

You can’t help but laugh, rolling your eyes a little. “You know I did.”

“Yeah, but you could still stroke my ego a little.”

“Stroke your ego?” You reach for his cock, gripping him through his sweats. “Like this?”

Hyuck lets out a low groan, thrusting forward to meet your hand. “As much as I’d love to watch you jack me off- tonight I’m here to make you feel better, and I’m not anywhere near being done with you yet.”

You’d never realized Hyuck had any self control, and you watch in shock as he gently moves your hand away.

“I’m going to eat you out now,” he tells you, slipping down the bed so he’s on his stomach between your legs. Hyuck spreads you open, gently kissing your inner thigh before looking up at you. “You good with this?”

“Uh huh,” you breathe, swallowing thickly as you prepare yourself for his tongue. “I’m still sensitive though.”

“I’ll go easy on you,” Hyuck promises, pressing a very soft kiss to your clit. “I can be gentle, contrary to popular belief.” 

You can’t help but let out a giggle, but the sound is cut short when Hyuck unexpectedly buries his face between your thighs. His tongue presses into your hole and the feeling has your legs quaking as he adjusts them over his shoulders, trying to dive even deeper.

“Shit, Hyuck-” you whimper, grabbing at his hair.

He’s always been a bit of a liar- maybe you shouldn’t have believed him when he said he’d go easy on you. But… at the same time, the way his nose repeatedly bumps your clit has a fire building in your abdomen again, and you really aren’t even that mad about it.

You can feel Hyuck smile against you, and it’s such a turn on to know he’s enjoying himself while providing you with pleasure. Mark had always been somewhat rigid in your sexual interactions, much more serious than the grinning cheshire cat between your legs now. 

Where Mark had been slow and tentative, Hyuck’s eager and passionate. He switches between lapping at your hole, sucking your clit, and pushing his tongue into you as deep as it can go, licking at your walls and working you up way faster than anyone else ever has in your entire life.

Then he begins to groan, and you realize he’s grinding against the bed-

Is eating you out really that sexy for him? 

You feel another gush of wetness from the thought and your pussy throbs, warning you both that you’re close again. Hyuck responds by adjusting ever so slightly, lips wrapping around your clit while he pushes a hand to your entrance, slipping two fingers inside.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum-” you gasp, back arching off the bed while the cord in your stomach is pulled unbelievably tight. 

Hyuck’s fingers twist in and out of your hole, and he licks at your clit in the most sloppy manner- it’s enough to have you exploding, a cry of pleasure escaping you while your core clamps down on your roommate. 

He groans loudly, sinfully, and the vibration against your clit has your legs shaking around his head, orgasm pulsing deep through your entire being. 

You’re practically crying at this point, and you can feel tears even while you clench your eyes shut, taking everything Hyuck’s giving you while moaning like a whore- you’ve never sounded this way, and there’s something almost addicting about the noises being torn out of you.

You know he feels it too, because Hyuck is completely unrelenting. If anything, he’s even more sloppy with the way he worships your pussy, fingers crooking up expertly-

You’re literally gushing around him, and you can feel it, can feel that your bed is going to be ruined after this. But you can’t bring yourself to care. All you can do is grab at your sheets, crying to the ceiling while your best friend makes you feel pleasure so intense that you can’t even think. 

He’s fulfilled his promise about making you cry for good reasons… and he hasn’t even taken his cock out yet.

You’ve never been this needy in your entire life, and when he pulls away from your core, allowing you to catch your breath, you peak out at him from under wet lashes. 

“You’re literally perfect,” he tells you, voice deep. His pupils are completely blown now and he’s breathing as heavily as you are.

You watch him bring glistening fingers up to his lips, slowly sucking them clean and moaning loudly at the taste of you before he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Fuck, and you’re already crying-” Hyuck sits up, leaning over you and reaching out to brush some of your tears away. “God, you’re fucking beautiful.” 

“Hyuck-” you whimper, shocked that you’re choking up.

Your body is still being flooded with emotion and sensations. Your nipples are hard under your shirt and the fabric is becoming uncomfortable, making you more sensitive-

“Going to let me take care of you now, right, gorgeous?” he asks, pinching at your chin and leaning in to kiss you softly.

“Please-” You grab at your shirt and Hyuck follows through by helping you take it off.

You’re now fully revealed to him, and your best friend sits back to appreciate you, letting out a deep breath. 

“Mark’s so fucking stupid for letting you go,” Hyuck says.

His words are bitter sweet, and in your overstimulated state, you find your lower lip wobbling as you hold back a choked sob. 

“Shh,” Hyuck whispers, reaching out to cup your cheek. “It’s better to be with someone who knows your worth, like I do. I’d never fucking treat you the way he did- I promise.”

The look on his face is so intense, and you know he’s telling you the truth.

Your body relaxes a little- Hyuck really is such a good guy, and what he’s doing for you helps more than he’ll probably ever know. He’s making you feel sexy again, making you feel needed and wanted and maybe even loved. 

“Besides,” Hyuck clears his throat, taking off his own shirt, “I’m going to fuck you so good you’ll forget all about that asshole.”

You can’t help but laugh sadly, wiping at your own face to get rid of the last tears while you watch Hyuck move to work on his sweats. 

When he pushes the waistband down, revealing his cock, you think you might actually faint.

You’ve always thought Hyuck was a pretty guy, sexy of course, but pretty too- and his cock? It’s as stupidly pretty as the rest of him.

He must be a little over seven inches, and he’s girthy too-

You can feel yourself practically drooling as you look at him, and Hyuck smirks at your reaction. “Sure you’re ready for this, gorgeous?”

“If you don’t fuck me I think I might die.”

He laughs at your words. “Then I guess I better fuck you.”

“Should we…” you bite at your lip. “Do we need condoms?”

“Babe,” Hyuck scoffs. “Babe- we’re both clean, right? And I know you’re on birth control… do you want me to wear a condom? I always kind of imagined you’d be the kind of girl who wants to be full.”

How many times has he imagined this, you wonder. 

But he’s right. You want him to fill you up like no one else has.

“Come here,” you say, holding open your arms while he kicks his sweats off.

Hyuck’s hands find the pillows by your head and he slots himself between your legs, lips pressing against your own.

You thread your fingers through his soft brown hair, kissing him eagerly. You want to get lost in him, and it’s easy to do that when he begins to rut his cock against your pussy, bumping your clit and making your thighs shake around his hips.

“Just fuck me,” you groan, already feeling so unbelievably needy.

Hyuck smirks against your lips, pulling away to look down at you with mischief in his eyes. “You’re so fucking hot it’s insane.”

“Then why aren’t you inside me yet?”

He moans a little, dipping his head to look between your bodies while he reaches for the base of his cock, lining himself up with your hole. “If it hurts, I’ll stop.”

You’re about to scoff and tell him he’s not that big when he pushes his head into your entrance and a gasp leaves your lips. The stretch is very real, and you wrap your arms tighter around his shoulders, closing your eyes and focusing on getting your body to relax.

You can practically feel your pussy struggling to make room for him, and even though you’re as wet as a fucking slip and slide, it’s still a little difficult for him to push in inch after inch-

“Fuck,” you whimper, and Hyuck rewards you by burying his face in your throat, peppering your skin in kisses. The soft feeling of his lips is enough to distract you from the intrusion opening up your pussy, and soon his hips are flush against your own, making you both release groans of pleasure.

“You ready for this?” Hyuck asks.

“God, yes-” 

He reaches for your hand, pressing it to the pillow and threading your fingers. Then he kisses you softly-

When he begins to rut into you, it’s anything but soft.

Hyuck’s motions are calculated and rough, the tip of his cock hitting a spot deep inside of you that has you squeezing his hand. You’d be cussing if it weren’t for his hot lips against your own, lips that have gotten increasingly demanding, his tongue stroking yours while you gasp.

It feels amazing- like, truly. You’ve never been fucked like this, and he’s only just started.

He stops kissing you, breathing heavily while he fucks you even harder. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

“You’re literally balls deep inside of me,” you nearly laugh. “You can ask me anything.”

“I’m just,” Hyuck groans, squeezing your hand. “Did you ever think about me when you were fucking Mark?”

Your pussy clenches at the question, from shock or hornyness, you’re not sure. 

“I-”

“You did, didn’t you?” Hyuck grins. “Don’t think I didn’t just feel you get super fucking tight around me- God, you are dirty like me, aren’t you, gorgeous? I thought… thought that when you started dating soft boy Mark, maybe you were more vanilla, but that’s not you, is it?”

“No-”

“You like to get fucked, properly, don’t you, babe?” Hyuck continues.

“Fuck, yes-”

“And Mark didn’t know how to do that for you, did he? Mark didn’t know how to make you wet like this, didn’t know how to make you cry or scream or beg-”

You can’t bring yourself to verbally slander Mark while Hyuck’s fucking you like a wild man, so instead you just shake your head. Your confirmation makes Hyuck grin, and he fucks you even harder, the whole bed rocking while the sound of skin on skin fills the room. 

“You know what? Enough about Mark. Forget him. You don’t need him anymore.” Hyuck’s mouth is hot on your neck and his words make you shiver as he moves to suck your earlobe. “You only need me. You only need me, I promise.” 

Hyuck lets go of your hand and you’re about to argue with him about it when he shoves his fingers between your bodies, rubbing at your clit while he fucks you.

“Hyuck!” you whimper, writhing beneath him.

“That’s it gorgeous. I wanna ruin you for anyone else. After this, no one’s going to make you cum like I can.” He’s groaning now, voice all breathy and super sexy- “If I make you cum three times the first time I fuck you, that means you’re mine right?”

You moan loudly at the idea, grabbing his shoulders while he works you closer and closer to yet another orgasm that you have no doubt will be as mind blowing as the first two. 

“Tell me you’re mine,” Hyuck says, voice gruffer now. “Fuck, gorgeous, I want you so badly- just say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” you gasp when he applies more pressure to your clit.

“That’s my girl,” Hyuck smiles against your neck. “You’ll let me mark you right? Let me suck some pretty bruises into your skin so every time you look in the mirror you know your roommate fucks you right-”

His tongue darts out, licking a stripe of your throat before his lips press to your sweet spot. He suctions his mouth onto you, teeth grazing your skin and causing you to cry out while you move your hands to tug on his hair.

Hyuck lets out a sinful groan when you pull gently on his soft brown strands, but he doesn’t let up. He’s entirely focused on you and your pleasure, cock continuing to rearrange your insides while his fingers abuse your nearly overstimulated clit-

“I’m so close-” you whimper, eyes closed as your body once again approaches the edge with startling speed. 

“Yeah?” Hyuck moves away from your neck and you get the sense that he’s looking down at you. “Gonna cum on this cock and let me fill you up? Gonna let me breed you like the good girl you are? Make you so stupidly full that you’re fucking dripping?”

“Yes, fuck, Hyuck, please-” You’re on the verge of tears again, whole body thrumming with energy-

“Then cum for me. Let me fucking feel you.” 

You twitch from his words, and then you’re falling over the edge, gasping and clawing at him while you’re overcome with ecstasy. You’re not sure if it’s because this is your third orgasm, or if it’s because his cock is balls deep inside of you, but this orgasm is the most intense of them all.

You’re reduced to a completely primal side of yourself, brain short circuiting while your body takes over. There are no thoughts, only the attempt to process all the pleasure that’s flowing through you like a river that’s broken through a dam. 

The sounds escaping you are unlike anything that has ever come from your vocal cords, and Hyuck is also cumming, groaning loudly as he presses his lips to yours. His tongue is hot as it licks at your bottom lip, and his thrusts are erratic. 

He takes his hand away from your clit in favour of finding yours again, fingers locking while he squeezes you. You can feel the passion radiating off of him, can feel that this won’t be a one time thing and you both know it.

Hyuck takes care of you through your orgasms until you’re both finished, and his motions begin to slow until he’s simply half laying on top of you, his kisses much more gentle as you gasp into each others mouths. 

His hips are flush against your own, keeping his cum inside of you while you make out. His body is warm and it almost feels like a security blanket draped across your own. Hyuck’s fingers are still tangled with yours, and it feels nice just to be holding someone’s hand again.

“Fuck, gorgeous,” Hyuck groans, pulling away from your lips, “if we keep kissing I might have to fuck you again, and I don’t think you could take another orgasm.”

“Not tonight,” you agree, blinking up at your roommate. 

It’s like you’re seeing him in a new light, and you assess the soft details of his features. He really is a beautiful man.

“And we ruined your bed,” Hyuck says with a grin. “You were squirting earlier and your sheets are too wet to sleep in, so I guess that means you’re coming to my room tonight.”

“You want me to sleep with you?” you nearly laugh.

“I’d honestly be offended if you didn’t.” He lets go of your hand, pushing himself off of you. “I didn’t get to touch your tits at all, and I’d like to have something to grab onto when we sleep.”

“God, you’re such a menace,” you giggle, pushing at his chest.

“You love it,” Hyuck insists, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your lips. “Come on, we should shower.”

“So we’re showering together now too? Weren’t you the guy who said Mark was being clingy by wanting to see me every day when we started dating?”

“It’s clingy when Mark does it,” Hyuck notes. “When I do it, it’s endearing and charming and sexy-”

“Sure it is,” you say sarcastically, shaking your head at him.

“What happened to my good girl?” Hyuck teases. “If you keep talking back, I might be tempted to ruin you in the shower.”

Now that you’re thinking about it, that doesn’t actually sound like the worst thing in the world.

“Fine, let’s go,” you concede, letting out a sigh.

There’s so much you could say about what has just taken place, but one thing you can state with confidence is that you do feel better. Hyuck had made you forget about Mark, if only for a short while before he started shit talking his friend- but, his words of slander hadn’t actually made you mad or sad or upset- they’d actually kind of had the opposite effect.

Life will go on after Mark Lee, and Hyuck’s made you realize that.

In fact, maybe your life after Mark will go on with Hyuck. 

Maybe it was always meant to be this way. 

You’re too tired to think about these big ideas in detail tonight, not after everything that’s just happened. Instead, you allow yourself to live in the moment, allow your roommate to take care of you the way he always has.

For now, this is more than enough. 

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I'm back in my Hyuck feels again

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 

🔮 preview. “So perfect,” Hyuck tells you, reaching his hands up to cup your breasts.  Before he can dive in, however, you press the ice pack to his face again and he winces below you. A scowl forms, and he glares into your eyes. “Maybe I don’t like it when you take care of me.”

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, thigh riding, multiple reader orgasms, dirty talk, praise, claim kink, boob worship, big dick Hyuck, sex in on the living room couch, physical altercation between new boy and ex, overstim, holding off an orgasm, cumming together, light spanking, etc… I pet names: (hers) gorgeous, babe .

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.9k I teaser wc. 220

🌙 staring. Haechan x afab!reader

bonus

“Dude,” Jeno sighs, staring at the man sitting on his couch. “You did not-”

“Except that I did,” Hyuck smirks. “You should be happy for me.”

“Is that what you’re going to say to Mark after you tell him you fucked his ex?” Renjun asks, narrowing his eyes at their naughtiest friend. 

“Actually,” Hyuck sighs, leaning back against the couch, “I think we shouldn’t tell Mark, not yet at least.”

“So now you’re making us all culpable in your bullshit,” Renjun groans loudly, rolling his eyes. 

Hyuck gaze shifts from the angry aries to Jaemin, who’s yet to say anything since Hyuck’s big reveal. “You’re cool with this, aren’t you?”

“I mean…” Jaemin cocks his head to the side, “you have wanted to be with her for years-” 

“See, Jaemin gets it!” Hyuck grins, eyes turning to his part time gym buddy next. “And Jeno? You understand where I’m coming from, don’t you?”

“Mark is not going to be happy about this,” Jeno frowns.

“And I wasn’t happy when he started dating my roommate crush,” Hyuck states, “or when he broke up with her unexpectedly.”

“Don’t lie,” Renjun scoffs, “we all know you probably celebrated when they ended things.”

“Only a little,” Hyuck confesses, grinning again. “Okay but for real,” his expression turns serious, “guys, I think I love her.”

☀️to read the full 3.9k bonus, subscribe to my Patreon - then - click here

👹 or check out what else is on my patreon here

🔮if nothing strikes your fancy, check out my m.list

general taglist

@gotshinct - @subhyuck - @fraechan - @learnthisfeeling

@runahways - @d-abin - @milkteade - @woogyuhae 

@anothershorthuman - @nihxxy - @vantxx95 - @bangshii

@poutypoutybin - @notbeforelong - @creepybakeoven

@ninetechculture - @yungiland - @suhsfam - @binchangf

@chogiwapadada - @librarian-stacks - @meowniee

@learnthisfeeling - @gigilame - @cumtrov3rsy

@mocha000 - @darthlunaa​ - @just-here-to-read-01​ - @shiningnono

@lovelyhan - @grilledbananas

✘ nct taglist

@milkyway-vxm - @nctsawrus - @shiningdery - @freezerandfame

@fairieblog - @fairybr3ad - @peachyjaemin - @chemaistry

@sehunniepot

Thank you to everyone who interacted with the teaser

@nae-vm - @shmooooo - @trulanxe - @aesttheticgirlyy

@nagisasugino - @jaehmarks - @iheartjackchampion

@darkdayelixer - @nctevia

[reminiscingtonight]

Imaginary (Girl)Friend

Leah Williamson x Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

[WOSO Masterlist]

You never talk about Leah. 

She’s your best friend, your better half, the first person you think to tell anything to. But you still never talk about Leah. 

You don’t talk about the fact that the two of you grew up together. Or that she prefers the crust cut off her plain ham sandwiches. Or how she stays up late just to call you even after playing a late night game away from home. 

You never talk about Leah because no one knew who she was. To you, she’s the most amazing person you know, the only person you’ll ever give your heart to. To everyone else, she’s simply another nameless face on another football team. 

And then the Euros happened.

The Euros happened, England won, and everyone started noticing Leah.

It’s hard at first. To watch your normally shy girlfriend have to shoulder the constant attention from both fans and media alike, to go from unknown to stopped every five seconds for a picture. Where Leah once held your hand while strolling on Sunday walks now became group outlettings lest you manage to secure an indoor date somewhere secluded.

Leah didn’t want you being dragged to national attention with her, and after watching the toll it took on her, you meekly agreed. While Leah became a professional footballer, you went to college, got a job, and now work a normal 9 to 5. Being famous for any reason, let alone dating someone famous, was something you never had an interest in.

So no, you don’t talk about Leah the footballer.

Leah the girlfriend however… you talk about her quite too much. 

But your friends always let you gush your heart out about the girl who’s had your heart since you were teenagers.

It’s friends like these that you treasure. They never push too hard, understanding when you skirt around bringing your girlfriend out to public events with large crowds. A couple of them are newer to the group, friends from work, but still respectful all the same.

Some of you even formed a recreational futsal team, just something to do after work once a week. It’s fun, getting to use some of those football skills you’ve acquired through your childhood playing on youth teams. 

Today’s one of those days. After wrapping up the last of your paperwork, you all pile into a car and make your way to the community center. 

The first half goes by quickly, not really memorable in any way.  

You’re taking a quick water break during half-time when one of your friends suddenly stiffens. 

“Holy shit.”

You look up to see her eyes widen at a spot over your shoulder. 

“What?” you ask, alarmed, trying to see what she’s looking at. But two hands on your shoulder stops you quickly, jerking you right back to face her.

“Don’t look, but I think a couple of the Lionesses are sitting in the bleachers, watching our game.”

You almost trip ripping yourself out of her grip, doing the exact opposite of what she just said.

Sure enough, you can spot the Three Best Friends huddled near the back of the bleachers, baseball caps and hoodies on as if that combo would actually help someone go incognito.

Almost as if she can feel your gaze, Leah’s face brightens, resting scowl turning into a grin as she waves at you. Before you can so much as react, a hand on your arm spins you back around.

“Oh my god, what are we going to do? I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of the Leah Williamson, Keira Walsh, and Georgia Stanway!”

You snort, gently shaking her hands off. “First off, it’s just rec futsal. If we lose it’s nothing that life ending. Also, we can always blame it on the court if we play poorly.”

She doesn’t look convinced, but the whistle from the ref calls before you can convince her some more. 

Taking your spot on the court again, you can’t help but feel a bit giddy. With the constant attention and numerous commitments clogging up your girlfriend’s schedule, it’s been a while since Leah’s come to one of your games. 

And so what if you end up showing off a little bit? Your girlfriend is here watching and you’re only human.

By the time the game ends, your team is up by six, four scored by you.

“God damn, we should try to invite the Lionesses out every week if you’re going to ball out like that when they’re here,” Riley jokingly complains, laughing when you shove her back playfully.

“Speaking of the Lionesses…”

Spinning around you see your girlfriend and her friends starting their descent down to the court. You skip to meet them halfway, ignoring the awestruck looks coming from all around. 

Leah gives you a quick hug before pulling back, mindful of prying eyes. 

“Leah! What are you doing here?”

“Just wanted to surprise my girl,” she mumbles, cheeks burning bright red as she instinctively pulls her cap down tighter on her head. “That’s okay right? I just haven’t seen you play live in a while and I--”

“Of course it’s fine.” Your cheeks are starting to hurt a bit by how wide you’re smiling.

You turn quickly to her two friends by her side. 

“Happy to see you guys too! Thanks for coming out.”

Georgia and Keira exchange devilish grins before each throwing an arm around your shoulders. 

“We would’ve come out to a match sooner if lovergirl over here hadn’t gatekeeped when your games were.”

Keira nods dramatically. “It was like pulling teeth with this one, trying to convince her to let us tag along today. You’d almost think she wanted us to forget she had a girlfriend.”

Leah rolls her eyes at the accusations. “A). I wasn’t gatekeeping. B). It was like pulling teeth today --- you wouldn’t give me a moment of peace until I agreed. And C). If I wanted you to forget I had a girlfriend, we wouldn’t be here having this conversation.”

“Pshh, as if you could make us forget our favorite Milton Keynes native. We’d choose her in the divorce,” Georgia quips, ignoring the eyebrow Leah raises her way.

Before the three of them can get in a shoving match, you suddenly remember your friends that you’ve left behind.

“Wait, let me introduce you guys to my teammates.”

Your friends look shell-shocked, eyes darting between you and the little posse of professional footballers you’ve amassed around you when you return. 

“Guys, this is my girlfriend Leah and her two friends.”

There’s a moment of stunned silence. Then a whispered, “why are you introducing three Lionesses to us as if you have dinner together on the regular?” Riley honestly looks like she’s about to pass out, but you decide to humor her a bit.

“Because I do? Keira and G come down sometimes during breaks, and I do live with Leah. So…” 

Your explanation seems pretty straightforward to you, but if anything, it only makes things more confusing for your friends.  

They exchange looks with each other before Riley cautiously asks, “You were being serious about that?”

It’s your turn to be confused, face scrunching up. “What do you mean?”

“Well you kept talking about your mysterious girlfriend Leah without ever introducing us to her…”

“Or showing us a picture,” another voice adds on, trying to be helpful.

“We just kinda assumed Leah wasn’t real,” Riley finishes off lamely.

You roll your eyes, elbowing your girlfriend when you feel Leah snort next to you.

She recovers quickly, giving your friends a smile. “Well rest assured, the girlfriend is very much real. It’s nice to meet you guys, I’m Leah.”

[satoruhour]

i need geto to grab my chin, stroke my cheek with his thumb, then spit in my mouth. maintaining eye contact the whole time? ugh. he’d de say “good girl”

ST☆RGIRL

a/n: yuuuum anon u guys r giving me the best ideas. also combining this with the geto in the brother’s bsf universe bc a lot of u have been asking for pt. 2, altho asking for a part two is pretty annoying. but i wanted to do a second one anyway lol. i made our brother gay btw + read the first part here / tagging @omgeto @papersirens @crysugu @getousex @slttygeto @kazushawty @peachsayshi

wc: 3.7k

warnings: secret relationship(?), soft dom!geto, reader is not a virgin but it’s her first time with geto, you almost get caught but it’s mild, dry humping / grinding, nipple play, spitting (in your mouth), praise, clit stimulation, oral / cunnilingus, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut

sneaking around your brother wasn’t exactly easy, given how they were almost always together by the day — if you didn’t know better, you’d think they were dating instead. the only time you had geto to yourself was in the middle of the week when your brother had gone back to pack more things and to visit his boyfriend, a sure time that you’d show up beaming and excited in front of their double dorm room while geto only gives you a lazy smile, tugging you into the room immediately.

sometimes it was the other way when your roommate went home for the weekend, geto knocking on your door in a wife beater and sweats, a small grin and reddened cheeks from running over; the prospect of hanging out with you always gets him speeding over.

his room was for wednesdays, yours for the weekend. a sweet little arrangement for the both of you.

now, geto suguru was the best boyfriend. he made sure you were always okay with his touches, his kisses. he had a silent way of caring, covering the top of your head when you reached down to pick up something under the table, refilling the trusty mug of water you brought around in the small dorm of yours, tidying up your table for the immense studying you’d be doing. it was the little things that you never noticed before you got addicted to him, but now it’s all you can think about when you gush about him to your friends.

and well, maybe, how good he was at teasing you.

no doubt suguru has had experience with other people before from how he always has you wanting more after a simple kiss, lips separating from yours to shoot you a quick smile and a gesture of manoeuvring you onto his lap. his touches are never-ending, rough, large hands spanning the beauty of your body as he names off feature after feature he’s noticed mature since you’ve both grown into adults. he makes the idea of wearing clothes abolutely offensive, grinding up into your centre and watching you fall apart, only to stop when he feels your hands tighten around his shirt.

geto knows you’re not ready, not when you’re doing some pulling away of your own as his hands creep towards your chest, fingers closing around his wrist before he can reach the buttons of your pants. all you can give him is a flustered smile, stuttering out an excuse with frantic hands. he just lets you — swallowing your apologies and tugs you into his embrace and talks about the newest tattoo he got instead — “we can just kiss and grind, baby. you tell me when you want to stop, okay?”

although you never do, makeout sessions always end with your hair in all places, your panties soaked and your lips swollen, not a single line crossed on geto’s side every time. it was an endearing trait of his; he never rushed you, never pressured you into “helping” him out, rather excusing himself to the bathroom quietly.

a smile spreads across your face when your phone lights up, the little profile picture of a sleeping suguru taking centre stage of your phone.

[11:43am, suguru (the bsf and now my BOYF???)]: hey baby, he just left. u wanna come over?

geto doesn’t even need to ask, because you’re already picking up your pre-packed bag and bid goodbye to your roommate who’s deep in her assignment, not noticing you’re gone until she’s shooting you a text after, asking you if you wanted anything for dinner. eating at the boyfriend’s place, no worries! thanks for asking :)

you’ve reached the other block in record time, amongst other many impressive timings, but while you’ve pressed the lift button and trying to catch your breath, the wind is knocked out of you again when the lift doors part and out comes your brother. you’ve never been so quick to come over before, avoiding situations just like this, but your sibling isn’t phased, simply shooting you a greeting.

“hanging with suguru?”

your breath is shaky when you exhale and you hope he doesn’t notice. “yea— yeah!”

his smile is unassuming, a hand outstretched and you barely make his high-five before he bids you goodbye with too loud of a goodbye, keeping up the clueless act until you’re stopping right in front of their door. your boyfriend doesn’t give you time to breathe, either, door swinging open to your dishevelled state and his chuckle would’ve almost buckled your knees if not for the adrenaline running through you.

“i just saw my brother in the elevator — are you insane?”

geto feigns a pout, “not even a kiss for the boyfriend?”

you roll your eyes with a smile and grab the neckline of his t-shirt, but what he says (“well, you’re the one who came running over, sweetheart.”) prompts you to grunt, shoving him away before you collapse face first into the sheets. they smell like you, you notice, but they’re mostly filled with geto’s natural scent, a calming combination of cinnamon and bergamot. there’s goosebumps on the back of your thighs — suguru runs his hand over it and up to your waist, flipping you onto your side and he coos at your annoyed face, settling into the bed with you.

“okay, no more teasing, hm?” he asks softly and you ignore the jump into your heart. you ignore how his tattoo covered arms are so gentle next to you, how his rougher finger tips brush your hair away like bees on a flower; almost ghost-like, so light, so soft, but you can’t. against your will, you huff, taking his hand silently and holding it, a small frown still present on your face and geto feels bad, now. he leans forward, taking your lips gently and you hate the way how pliantly you obey, sighing as you feel geto move against you.

your hand clutches at the pendant geto bought, a habit you’ve developed every time you feel overwhelmed. it was ironic, too, how the many times you’ve thumbed it was because of geto, and not so much of stressful exams or a weird guy at a party, but that thought’s out the window when geto pulls you onto him, moaning into your mouth when your thighs close in around him.

“you’re okay today, princess?” geto asks against your lips, and there’s no doubt lust swirling in the honey eyes of his — they’re the brightest always in the morning.

“i wanna—” you swallow, “try,” you sit up more comfortably, ignoring the tug in your core, “i don’t want to keep you waiting.”

geto’s brows furrow, “what? no— baby, you’re not making me ‘wait’, if anything i should be the one waiting for you.”

your hands are tense on his chest, he notices, bringing one to his lips before he places a kiss on your palm.

“you shouldn’t be compromising on your comfort to please me, my love,” geto mumbles into your hand, starting to kiss each finger individually until you’re closing your hand around his cheek.

“you’re so pretty,” you mutter softly and you’re jumping in celebrating in your heart when you can feel his skin heat up because your words affect him as much as it did you. you’re leaping for joy because how did you land such a caring lover that would put all your needs first? who’d tell you that you come first in everything—

geto suguru makes this so difficult always, but you’re already firm in your resolution, giving him a solid yes before a small smile spreads across his face, making the act of pulling you down by that same hand. you’re inches away, mind spiralling with how many positions he could put you in but—

there’s a jiggle of the knob on the door and you’re suddenly recoiling.

“are you expecting anyone?”

your boyfriend quickly shakes his head, but he brings you off his lap gently, setting you a safe distance from him. he arranges your hair in place and patting down the wrinkles on your shirt as the other person struggles to open the door and as always, he’s worrying about you, first — until that familiar, booming voice of your brother cuts through the tension and your disappointment is unmatched.

“hey guys!”

geto wanted to roll his eyes, as with you, but your oblivious brother doesn’t take much note of why your chests were heaving and your skin is sweaty, rather setting down his bags full of dirty laundry and the cute anniversary present he was ranting to you about — it felt like your work was undone, reversed, and you’re back to feeling intimidated, no doubt the presence of your brother making you feel like you were doing something sinful.

“so! wait, why do you look so—”

“oh, it’s nothin’, she’s just nervous for her upcoming exam,” geto answers almost immediately, removing the attention from you; it wasn’t entirely false, you realise, giving him a secret smile. “you were saying?”

“oh! yes, so, turns out…”

it’s nearing to the fifteen minute mark where your brother still continues to talk, rambling on about how his boyfriend’s moving date had been moved forward insread, so it was halfway throughout his journey that he got a text saying how it might be too chaotic for them to hang out — boxers, movers, the family dog barking at every stranger.

that heart-twisting, anticipating feeling had subsided by then, and while it was never a dull moment with the two of them, you left that dorm room feeling a little dissatisfied.

“i’m sorry, baby,” geto whispers to you later as your brother takes the chance to pee. he’d volunteer to send you back but the both of you didn’t want to risk anything more.

“next week?” geto asks, a hand to your cheek, “but of course, if you don’t feel it next week either that’s f—”

you give him a small grin, fingers covering his own shaking ones in comfort, “next week.” his lips barely leave your forehead in a peck before the toilet flushes and the door opens; geto teases your brother about not washing his hands and the two bicker just like years ago: hands flying everywhere and your giggles cutting through every insult they hurl at each other.

you can hear geto’s chuckle when you show up the next week, looking like you just ran a marathon again. this time you have no trouble avoiding your brother by hiding behind the wall beside the lift, though you hardly have any time for your boyfriend’s teasing laughter.

closing the door with your feet, you’re walking geto back into the room and his eyebrows raise at your determined face.

“are you sure you’re okay—”

without warning you’re clashing your lips into his, hands on his pecs and mewling softly when his arms naturally wrap around your middle.

“more than—” there’s a dramatic sigh when you feel hands caress your back, “okay.”

you’re just too enamoured with geto to carry on with your once self-assured actions, because you’re always like putty whenever you’re in his embrace. it happens without fail every time.

“you make me feel so,” swallowing, your eyes break contact and your head collides with his broad chest, “insane. you drive me crazy.”

you don’t miss how he winces a little, but soon he’s bringing your head off of him, biting his lip at your cute pouting face, possibly not knowing how even more obsessed he was with you.

a simple text from you has got his palms sweaty, and he goes through at least three drafted messages first before sending something, afraid he’d push over your boundaries or do something you won’t like. geto loves your smile, seeing your cheeks reach your eyes until there’s no more from a joke he made because you were talking about the cute little tattoo his little sister made him get. there wasn’t an end to suguru’s love for you; to see you, to feel you be so flustered and sheepish because of him drives him crazy — did you see the effect you had on him?

you simultaneously ruined and changed the definition of love for him; he’d never have anyone else.

you’re taken aback when geto tugs off his shirt and sitting right in the centre of his sternum is a woodcut tattoo of a halved sun, looking entirely contrasting with the traditional dragon that runs over his body and other ink-heavy pieces littered across his body. this was like a collection of ever-flowing lines that seem to bleed despite the bold lines that signify the end of the sun, it was you. your fingers trace over the tattoo under the protective film, your gasp prominent when there’s a small “to my sun” below it, paired with your initials — ambiguous enough if you were to break up, but geto hoped that would never be the case.

“got this for you last week,” suguru takes your wandering hand into his, words and actions gentle while he kisses the back of your hand, he laughs into your skin, “hurt like crap, i’m not gonna lie.”

“sugu—” your eyebrows are downturned just like your smile, “this is so pretty.” you’re in awe that he’d get something permanent for you, no doubt with such a cheesy line under the beautiful drawing.

“you’re so pretty.” geto smiles when you smile with a roll of your eyes, and you let him bring you into another kiss, softer this time as you let him lead, pulling you to his lap easily.

anyone who looked at the two of you could see the instant difference: geto with his inked arms and room oozing with posters and the gruff nature of him, and you with your bashfulness and sweet smiles and while geto is bound to be noticed first, he would rather sit in the shadows as your moon as he lets you charm everyone you come across. you’re just like that.

geto treats your body like glass, removing your top off of you gently as his hands span your torso and he sighs when he sees you aren’t wearing a bra. “look at you…” and you’re giggling, drawing a smile from the other. slowly he looks to you for reassurance and you nod, prompting him to wrap a careful mouth around your nipple. your boyfriend moans when he feels you jerk at the contact, tongue swirling around your mound as he plays with the other and that’s all it takes for your fingers to tense around his shoulder.

“f— fuck, sweetheart,” you hear him groan into your chest, moving to other nipple and suckling on it, eyes closed in bliss while your head falls back, “you’re so perfect, my love.”

“am i, now?” you mumble breathlessly, “you should look at who’s talking.”

geto nods, coming off of your tits with a pop! and the grin he gives you is shit-eating, “yeah, so goddamn perfect.”

you’re impatient now, especially when you’re in full perception, body on display just for your lover to see, and your hips move slowly whilst your skin feels like liquid fire.

“need you, suguru,” it’s a soft whine that comes out of you, and geto moans at your neediness and the rock of your pelvis because he can practically feel your cunt clench around nothing and your clit throbbing, and while you’re both no stranger to this, the idea of going further than whatever you’re used to makes geto dizzy.

“yeah— i know, baby,” you’re on your back after, gulping when you’re finally left with nothing on your body, shorts and panties taken off and the glory of your body is like oxygen to him, “i need you too.”

gently, suguru pries your legs apart and he’s hooked on your wetness, the beauty of your labia and hole, leaking so much slick his breath is shaky when he exhales. the first contact with your clit is feather-like, and it’s all he does before he leaps in and eats like a starved man. the sensations are too much that your thighs are pulled taut, feeling the flat of his tongue draw a line up your pussy.

geto slurps at your arousal, putting pressure in his mouth and sucks like his life depended on it and your sounds are music to his ears. he groans when he feels your hands pull at his hair, tugging away or towards your pussy even he didn’t know but he relishes in how he’s able to make you feel like this.

“su— suguru, s-shit! your mouth’s—” you can basically hear the smile in between the messy eating of your boyfriend, emerging from your plush thighs for a moment to show you just how soaked the bottom of his face was.

“it’s what?”

you tsk at his teasing and you shove him back, ignoring the way his chuckles send chills up your body through your core, but geto is merciful, humming and moving his face against your cunt. his tongue is relentless as well, making you so pliant with just one muscle as he flicks it against your puffy clit. it’s when your entrance starts to clench around air is when he thinks you’re going to cum.

and he stops — your whines are so cute to him.

“what’s your deal, suguru?” your frown’s adorable too, but he makes it up to you with a sweet kiss and lets you taste yourself.

“want you to cum around my cock, baby. you can do that, can’t you?”

yes, geto felt like he wanted to combust. yes, geto felt like he needed a thousand and one photos to capture how angelic you looked right, but with how he’s talking right now, you only can look up at him with excitement despite not knowing the torture you were putting him through.

and so when he first nudges his tip past your hole, that facade drops entirely, eyes fluttering close at the tightness of your cunt and the spread of your pussy lips upon his dick. you were by no means a virgin, although you disclosed that it was a shitty first time when you first lost it, but the way you feel around his cock, closing in around him you both have had to take breaths together.

“so tight…” geto’s close to bottoming out, memorising how he made you fall apart so easily: your hands clutching tightly on his wrists, making your tits pop out more, the flutter of your pussy, your cute lil mouth stretching into a delicious ‘o’. “and so pretty, just like that.”

you hum at the praise and once he’s buried, your little pants become more frequent, leaving puffs of air on his cheek.

“move?”

“are you seriously asking me that right n— oh shit…”

geto unsheathes and slams into you, and he can feel the drag of your walls along his length. a small laugh leaves him, “just takin’ care of m’pretty girl.”

he’s only had your dripping pussy once and yet he already can’t get enough of it, starting to move his hips as he impales you on his cock. it’s the only thing your mind can focus on, feeling so full and filled with him that it hazes your brain and hypnotises you almost.

“su— ohmy g-god!”

geto’s hands tighten around your thighs at that and the thrusts get sloppy so fast, rutting into you with no end goal in mind other than to feel your tight hole around his length. your lover’s eyes fall to the way his cock slips into you and you take it so well — there’s no other pussy he’d want to feel around him, truly — you take the ram of his hips so good and the gushing of your cunt is answer enough for him.

your hands grab for him, fingers fumbling with his forearms to bring him to your lips. the kiss is filled with drool, tongues slamming into each other as his hips stutter and jolt at the clamp of your pussy, and when he pulls away there’s a string of saliva connecting your lips to his.

you’ve talked about it before and it’s like he reads your mind before anything even begins; his hand grabs at your chin, so lovingly and different from how disgustingly rough he was slamming into you. his thumb goes over your supple skin, and he doesn’t need much to pry your mouth open but—

“open.” and your tongue comes out like second nature and you try not to show your excitement when geto gathers saliva, spitting the ball of liquid straight into your mouth. it hits your tongue hot. his honey eyes are darker now as he watches how obediently you swallow — he swears he can see hearts in your eyes.

“good girl.” geto smiles again, propping your legs up against your chest now in a mating press and you whine in surprise. the position gives him access to the deepest parts of you, and one hand sneakily rubs at your clit in time with his faltering thrusts and you’re cumming with a cry of his name.

“suguru— yes, yes! f-fuck— right there, baby,” you’re sobbing, seeing splotches of white in your vision as your high seem to overtake your senses. it hits you in all the right spots, giving geto his little gift of cumming around him and multiplying it tenfold by how your cum seeps into the sheets. it’s so much that all he can hear is the lewd squelch of your cunt and one more moan is enough for geto to groan into your neck.

“going to give you my cum, darling,” your “yes’” resonate in his ear and it spurs him on to finally cum, shooting his load deep into your womb and filling you with so much hotness. it’s too much but you love it and geto hisses at how your juices and his semen seem to seep out, “that’s a good fuckin’ girl.”

there’s a sly little grin when he lets down your legs gently and you’ve grasped at your pendant so hard it’s detached, and he quells all your doubts with a single kiss and the sun on his chest.

“i’ll just get you a new one, baby. you deserve that much.”

why did i write sm....

[cloudcountry]

Hello! If it's not too much trouble, can I ask for some headcanons for Deuce, Jack, Jamil, and Azul overhearing the reader gushing about them to a friend? It's not like they meant to eavesdrop, they just happened to be passing and they heard a snippet of all the nice things the reader said about them

SUMMARY: they eavesdrop on you while you gush about them!

COMMENTS: writing for jamil is so hard...........

Deuce left to go get some snacks for you and Ace, since he was used to carrying all of the bags anyways. He didn’t expect to come back to hearing you gush about him to a disgruntled Ace, going on and on about how amazing you thought he was.

“Prefect pleaseee, spare me. I know you’re down bad.” Ace groans, and Deuce stands outside the door just a little bit longer even though he knows it's bad to eavesdrop.

“What do you mean!? Have you seen him!? I am the perfect, acceptable amount of interested, thank you very much!” you proclaim dramatically, “He’s just so hard working, and so kind, and even though he’s so tough he’s also really gentle...have you seen him make eggs? I wish I was those eggs!”

Deuce’s face feels like it’s burning. He steps into the room, unable to listen to your rambling anymore. You and Ace stop talking and turn to look at him, only for Ace to burst with laughter at his flaming red face.

Jack would love to say that he’s unfazed. He’d also love to grab his tail and stop it from wagging so damn much, but unfortunately that is not how his tail works. It's a bit odd that you decided to tell this to Ruggie of all people, and honestly Jack thinks you should have gone to literally anyone else.

He respects his upperclassmen of course, but he knows Ruggie is going to tease both of you relentlessly. He can already hear it now, the high pitched, iconic Ruggie laugh ringing in his ears 

Regardless...his face is far warmer than it usually is. Maybe he likes being praised...just a little bit...

If Azul is being honest, he was just eavesdropping to gain insight into your struggles. Now he’s stuck sitting a table away from you, hiding his face with a textbook because he definitely looks at least a little bit panicked and he has a reputation to uphold.

You're babbling on and on to your Heartslabyul friends about how lovely you think Azul is, despite their interjections of “Prefect that is literally the guy who screwed us over” and “Prefect...you could do so much better for yourself, you know that?”

He covers his surprised snort with a soft cough when you shoot back with a “Well you two were the ones silly enough to sign his deal. His business is still running for a reason.”

Really, you’re something else.

Jamil isn’t used to praise that it’s for his food and isn’t from Kalim. Unfortunately enough, it’s him who you’re talking to when he walks into Scarabia’s lounge.

He freezes in place when he hears his name, about to open his mouth and chastise you two for talking about someone when they’re not there, but he hears just what you have to say and he’s so glad he didn’t get the chance to say anything.

Staring at you and Kalim’s backs, he has to admit he’s more than a little flustered and more than a little annoyed that he can’t see your face or the smile you’re so obviously wearing when you talk about how beautiful and clever Jamil is.

A foreign emotion rears its head inside him and a ghost of a smirk appears on his face—he’ll just get you to spill your guts later.

-> deuce's darlings . . . @vivigoesinsane @deucespadez @identity-theft-101 @dove-da-birb

-> azul's business partners . . . @cookiesandbiscuits @vivigoesinsane @identity-theft-101 @dove-da-birb

[nadvs]

out of bounds (part six)

pairing zach maclaren and soccerplayer! female reader

rating mature 18+ for smut

summary zach has never been the type to rebel, but when he meets you at a soccer camp where you’re both working as counselors, which has a strict policy against dating between staff, he’s tempted to break the rules for the first time.

» part one | two | three | four | five

» masterlist

Every made-up explanation you can think of won’t cut it. Nothing you say will be believable. You’ve been found out.

“They’re bug bites?” you say weakly, pulling up your shirt so the hickeys aren’t in clear view anymore. Ami laughs, shaking her head.

“I knew you and Zach were a thing,” she says. “Why didn’t you just tell me? I wouldn’t judge. You know that I’m breaking the rules, too.”

You sigh, dropping back into your bed.

“We really don’t want it getting around,” you say.

“Then you should be more careful about where you let bugs bite you,” she laughs.

“Ami,” you groan, half-chuckling. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t. You can trust me,” she says. “When did this start?”

You sit back up and give her surface details, recapping when you two kissed by the lake, then tried and failed to wait until after the season to pursue anything.

“Have you guys…” she asks with raised brows. Your cheeks burn.

“Last night,” you admit. Your stomach goes numb at the memory. “But seriously, you can’t mention it to anyone. If people find out and he gets fired, it’d crush him.”

The amusement in Ami’s eyes fades, replaced with compassion.

“Wow. You’re really worried, huh?” she says.

“He’s the sweetest guy I’ve ever met. I don’t want him to get in trouble,” you reply. “We decided today that we’ll keep things on hold. For real this time.”

“Can you keep it on hold?” she asks. “I don’t know about you, but it being forbidden makes it ten times hotter.”

You shrug. You’re unsure if you’d be doing this much this fast with Zach if you met outside of work, and he did tell you last night that he never moves this quickly with a girl.

“I’m going to have to try,” you say. Zach’s hard to resist, but for his sake, you don’t want to give in.

“Fair,” Ami sighs. “I knew it, though. Malcolm called me crazy.”

“You talked about it with him?”

“Yeah, the night you went shopping,” she says. “I said that I think there’s something there and Malcolm was like, I can tell he likes her, but there’s no way he’d break the rules. I wish I could rub it in his face.”

You shoot her a look.

“But I won’t,” she promises. You nod gratefully.

“He can tell he likes me?” you ask.

“He said when you’re around, Zach smiles way more than usual,” she recalls, “which is already a lot to begin with, apparently.”

Your heart flutters. Zach is already such a cheerful person, so to think you make him even happier, and very obviously at that, is flattering.

“I guess Malcolm would know since they’ve been best friends for so long,” you say.

“Yeah,” Ami agrees. “He actually…”

She chuckles.

“What?”

“He was randomly talking about Zach the other day,” Ami continues, “and he said that he treats every girlfriend like he’s gonna marry her. I guess he’s a hopeless romantic, so I hope you’re prepared for that.”

You chuckle, wholeheartedly believing it. Zach is sweet and sensitive and while you didn’t doubt his sincerity for a second, hearing that he’s not one for flings is a relief. Because you want so much more with him.

“Good to know,” you reply. “And you and Malcolm are still keeping things casual or…?”

“I don’t know,” she says with a hopeful smile. “But if it gets more serious, I wouldn’t be mad about it or anything.”

You laugh together and finally, you allow yourself to gush about the man who’s thrown you for such an unexpected loop. It feels nice to not have to keep it in anymore.

You’re relieved when Saturday rolls around. Even though fun days at camp are just as busy, you welcome a break from running training drills.

After breakfast in the dining hall, Ruby announces to the campers to prepare for a morning of hiking, an afternoon of swimming, and a camp-wide relay race before dinner.

The sky is cloudy, but the chance of rain is low, so you stay optimistic that you won’t be forced to spend the day inside.

You quickly realize it’s not going to be as easy to keep your distance from Zach today, because you’re put in a hiking group with him.

As you set out on the trail with your cohorts of campers, their chatter loud over the sounds of shoes crunching over the dirt and birds chirping in the sky, Zach leads the crowd under towering trees that line the perimeter of the campground.

It’s only been a couple of days since you spoke with him about cooling things down, but not talking how you used to has been disheartening. Neither of you have been scheming to find ways to be alone like you used to, settling for friendly conversations whenever your paths cross.

“We’ll get a pretty cool view at the midpoint,” Zach says loudly to the campers, turning back. He meets your eyes for a second, a small smile flashing on his face, before he looks ahead again.

You wonder if he took your words as you suggesting you two shouldn’t talk at all, when that’s far from the truth.

You make conversation with your campers while you hike, and when you reach the height of a steep trail, you approach Zach as he looks out at the view of lush forestland.

“Hi,” you say quietly. His eyebrows raise when he sees you, like he’s surprised you’re speaking to him. It’s your first moment out of earshot from others in too long.

“Hey,” he says.

“You know, I didn’t mean we can’t talk at all,” you say with a soft laugh.

The pang of rejection has been burrowed in Zach’s chest since your last private conversation. He’s hardly ever one for overthinking, but since you came into his life, all he does is mull over everything you do and say to him, anxious that you don’t like him as much as he likes you.

But now, as he gets lost in the softness in your gaze, he realizes what an idiot he is for worrying that you don’t also think that what you have is special.

He needs to remind himself that you’re just being careful. Not rejecting him. He shoves down the prickly feeling and smiles at you.

“I thought I wasn’t even allowed to look at you,” he jokes to dismiss his uneasiness.

“Stop,” you chuckle. “How’ve you been?”

Zach’s blue eyes dart over his shoulder, his lips flattening.

“I miss you,” he half-whispers.

You tilt your head as you gaze up at him, your lips in an endeared frown. You’ve gotten used to there always being a sense of a playful smirk on his face, a look of mischief in his eyes, but right now, he’s completely doleful.

“I miss you, too,” you say. “Forcing each other into the friend-zone sucks.”

Zach laughs, his heart warming.

“No kidding,” he says. At this point, he just needs to get through a few more weeks as just your friend. It feels like forever, but he’ll get through it.

After lunch, counselors work together to set up for an afternoon by the lake, handing campers life jackets and inflating water toys.

After set-up, you stand on the dock, shades shielding your eyes now that the sun has peeked out from behind fluffy clouds.

You look out at the beautiful water, surrounded by campers talking and laughing, feeling that calming sense of being where you’re meant to be. Even though the days are tiring and the kids can be difficult, you’re so glad you came here.

You hear Zach’s familiar voice as he chats and walks past you, followed by two boys. He leans down to grip the edge of the empty canoe bobbing in the water on the dockside, gently reminding them to enter the boat slowly.

You can tell he’s been running around tirelessly, his lips parted as he pants, sweat sheening his skin.

When he stands to collect the ore, he quickly lifts the bottom of his shirt up to wipe his forehead, giving you a glimpse of his chiseled body. You’re glad you’re wearing shades because you can’t take your eyes off of him.

You clasp your hands together, your body rushing with heat as you remember what happened a few nights ago. How taut his body looked when you were on top of him. The way he breathed and moaned when you slowly sank onto him.

You force yourself to look away. Seeing him like that and knowing you can’t have him is only making things harder.

A couple of hours later, the relay race is underway on the north soccer field. You’re standing at the touchline on your own, stationed to hand out water and snacks to any campers or staff who need it.

Your stomach goes wild with butterflies when Zach makes his way towards you, offering you a charming grin as he pushes his sunglasses up to rest on his head.

“No way,” he says when he approaches, squinting, his voice low. “You got the easy job.“

“Rude. It’s actually way harder than it looks,” you reply.

“Standing there looking pretty is hard?”

“Very,” you say, his compliment making you a little lightheaded. You mirror him, perching your sunglasses up.

“I don’t believe it.”

Zach opens the cooler, not giving you a chance to get a drink for him. He collects a water bottle and unscrews the cap.

“You remember when you told me I can’t look at you a certain way when we’re at work?” you say, pushing the lid of the cooler shut.

He smirks, tipping his head back as he gulps down water. You’re gazing at him like that now, your stare hard on him. It’s addictive being on the receiving end of that look. It makes him feel like he’s floating.

“Yeah, and it still stands,” he nods. “So, stop it.”

“I’m not even…” you scoff, crossing your arms. “I have a rule for you, too. You can’t lift up your shirt when I’m around.”

“What? When did I do that?”

“By the lake. And I don’t appreciate it.”

“Why not?” he chuckles.

“Just stop,” you flirt with a roll of your eyes.

“I need a reason.” By the smug smirk on his face, you can tell he already knows. Because he’s so cute, you give in.

“It’s hard not to stare,” you say. “And we’re not supposed to stare at each other.”

The flattered look you’ve quickly grown to love flashes on his face.

“Oh, you mean when I get hot?” he teases. “I can’t control the sun.”

“Zach,” you warn. He says your name with the same teasing tone.

“I’m serious,” you say.

“So am I,” he laughs.

You shake your head at him when he lifts up the bottom of his shirt to wipe the water off his lips. His eyes stay locked on your expression as yours drift down the cut of his abs.

Zach’s entire body buzzes when you look at him like that. He so deeply loves feeling wanted by you.

“You just don’t listen,” you mumble, taking your eyes off of him. He chuckles, letting his shirt fall back down.

“Come on, baby, it’s my fault it’s hot out?” he murmurs.

You can’t stifle your grin. Maybe he technically shouldn’t call you that if you’re pretending to be friends, but nobody can hear, and you love when he’s sweet like that.

“Everything’s your fault,” you say.

Zach winks at you before he turns to rush back to the game. It’s the type of silly banter that made you develop a crush on him so fast, and you’re glad you can at least flirt if you’re not going to sneak around anymore.

After the relay race, Tom reminds the campers that in a week and a half, you’ll be hitting the midpoint of the camp season, and as tradition goes, a staff soccer game will be held.

Even though it’s just a no-stakes match at camp to give the kids a fun chance to cheer on their counselors, you feel nerves twist in your stomach at the reminder.

Despite the fact that your love for soccer has slowly been finding its way back to you, your confidence still isn’t quite where you want it. And your instinct is to talk to Zach about it, to be comforted by the one person you’re trying to stay away from.

As you settle at your table for dinner that evening, you look for him in the crowd. He’s sitting at the head of his usual table, laughing in conversation. When he meets your eyes, you give him a smile. He returns it.

That evening after lights out, you’re lying in bed scrolling on your phone while Ami watches something on her laptop when you realize the nagging desire to see Zach is only getting harder to ignore.

You’ve also been considering telling him that your cabin-mate knows about him. It may just serve to worry him, but it feels wrong keeping something from him.

The way he looked on the hike when he said he missed you is stuck in your head. You miss him, too. As if you haven’t seen him in weeks.

It feels silly to keep your distance. You’re being too careful. You’re sure you can manage to hang out and keep your hands off of each other.

You hung out platonically before. Why can’t you do it again? There’s no rules against that. In fact, being friends is encouraged. You open your text conversation with Zach.

When Zach steps out of his cabin into the brisk air that night, he looks up at the sky to see he can hardly spot any stars. The air is thick with the threat of rain, but it’s stubborn, refusing to fall.

He heads out to the dock, sitting on the cool surface, his phone in his hand. Malcolm already fell asleep, so he decided to take his call outside to not wake him.

It’s never easy for him to be away from his family for very long. He appreciates checking in every so often, making sure his parents are doing okay, hearing how his sister’s summer is going.

As he catches up with them during the video call, at one point, his dad asks his mom where his glasses are and when she points off screen and his dad thanks her with a kiss to her temple, the simple, passing moment is a reminder to Zach of how loving his parents’ marriage is.

He grew up knowing that his mom and dad adore each other, that they believe they’re meant to be together. It’s fun to act grossed out by their affection, but in reality, he admires them. He’s never wanted to settle for less in a relationship.

Zach has always desired to be surrounded by love and approval. He’s sure his heart will never fully heal after his childhood, but when he knows he’s around people who like him, that wound feels much smaller.

And the way you accept him for everything that he is, never once looking at him with judgement, unconditionally offering compassion, gives him a sense of being complete, of that wound actually being gone. He hasn’t ever felt that before.

He looks out at the dark water, breathing slowly. He’s always thought of himself as an optimistic person, so it’s uncomfortable to be wallowing over his circumstances with you this much.

He forces himself to see the bright side. He may be facing weeks of not being able to be with you the way he wants to, but when the camp season wraps up and he goes back to his normal life, you won’t be living under any of these rules.

He’ll take you out on dates. He’ll hold your hand in public. And hopefully, you’ll still like him enough that he can introduce you to his family and officially be your boyfriend.

At that moment, his phone buzzes with a text. It’s you. havent worked on my defense in a while... do you have time to help a friend practice?

He grins, feeling the tension in his body dissipate.

You agree to meet on the field farthest from the staff cabins, positioned at the far edge of the campground. When you approach the pitch, Zach’s practicing kick-ups by the net under the bright moon.

“Show-off,” you say once you’re close enough. He looks up to see you, letting the ball roll away. His smile fades once he sees your bare arms under your t-shirt.

“Aren’t you cold?” he asks.

“No.” His concern remains etched on his face, quickly unzipping his hoodie and stepping closer.

“I’m fine,” you laugh, unsuccessfully protesting as he drapes his hoodie over your shoulders.

“Now you are,” he says, looking down at you with a relieved smile. He leans down to leave a chaste kiss on your cheek, then quickly pulls back.

“Sorry,” he says. “Not allowed.”

You chuckle, looking around into the silent darkness surrounding you.

“I think we can get away with it here,” you tell him. “But I figured if anyone sees us, we’re just two coworkers innocently practicing for the game.”

“I ever tell you you’re a genius?” he asks, cocking his head, his eyes trailing down your face.

“Don’t think so,” you reply.

“Well, you are,” he says.

“Thanks, baby.”

“Okay, you can’t call me that and not expect to be kissed,” he murmurs, cupping your jaw with his cool palm. He leans down to kiss you, slow, his lips just barely parting.

“We still have to be careful,” you sigh amusedly when he pulls away. “Let’s practice.“

“Right,” he says. “As friends.”

“As friends.”

Zach smirks, rushing to get the ball as you stand in front of the net, stretching to warm up your legs.

“How was your day?” he asks once he stands a few feet across from you, gently kicking the ball to you. “Barely broke a sweat, huh?”

You trap the ball below your foot with a gasp.

“What’s that mean?”

“You’re still gonna pretend standing next to a cooler is hard?” he asks.

You laugh and kick the ball with unexpected force, watching him dramatically dodge it as it whirls past him.

“Whoa, you mad or something?” he laughs.

“I don’t need your attitude or your hoodie,” you tease, pulling the sleeves off.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” he relents, laughing harder. “Please put it back on.”

You roll your eyes and comply, loving how soft his sweater feels on your skin, loving how much it smells like him.

“Just go get the ball,” you say in resignation, a smile pulling at your lips.

“Yes, ma’am,” Zach replies.

You watch him jog towards the center line, expertly dribbling the ball when he reaches it. He comes forward and stops a few feet away from you.

“Hey, I have something to tell you,” you say. The guilt weighs even heavier on you when you see the worry in his gaze.

“What?”

“Ami knows about us,” you confess. “She saw my hickeys the other day and I couldn’t think of a lie fast enough. She promised she wouldn’t tell anyone. I’m sorry.”

His heart aches when he hears the distress in your voice.

“You’re sorry?” he says. “I’m the one who left them.”

You breathe out a chuckle, tugging at the sleeves of his sweater over your knuckles.

“You can be upset with me,” you mumble. “I know you didn’t want anyone knowing.”

“I’m not upset,” he replies. “It’s okay.”

“Really?” you ask.

Truthfully, hearing that someone else knows about you two makes him tense. It increases the risk of being found out, of disappointing his family, of ruining his reputation. But he can’t bear to make you feel any worse.

“Yeah. Don’t worry about it,” Zach says, keen to push past the topic. He kicks the ball to you. “So, your day?”

“It was good,” you say. “The hike was nice. But thinking about the staff game made me nervous. I guess I’m still not all that confident yet.”

“And you came to the best for help,” he says. You kick the ball back, laughing softly.

“I did.”

“You’ll get into your stride again,” Zach tells you. “I wasn’t just trying to flatter you the first night. You’re a really good defender. Honest.”

“Thank you,” you say, stopping the ball when he kicks it to you again. This is exactly why you wanted to come to him. He consoles you so effortlessly, already making the nerves unravel. “How was your day?”

“Good,” he says. “I actually just got off the phone with my family when you texted.”

“How are they?”

“Falling apart without me,” he answers sarcastically. “My sister was saying my dad doesn’t do monster checks right.”

“I’m sorry, what’s a monster check?” you laugh.

“A check for monsters, obviously,” he replies. “I’m usually the one that scouts out Avery’s room before bed, but since I’m not home, my dad’s in charge. And his heart’s just not in it.”

“That is not something to slack on,” you play along.

“Right?” he says. “I couldn’t live with myself knowing a monster might’ve flown under the radar.”

You laugh again, touched by how sweet of a big brother he is. You kick the ball to him and start training together.

It’s been just under ten minutes of practice when you feel a cool raindrop on your cheek. Zach’s towering over you, your legs brushing as he tries to gain possession of the ball, when you freeze and look up.

“I just felt rain,” you say, gently panting. He takes the opportunity to gaze at you as you stare up at the night sky, the moonlight washing your pretty face in its glow.

You lower your gaze to meet his eyes, revelling in the feeling of him looking at you like that, like you’re the only girl that exists. It reminds you of the way he stared at you when you met, needing you to repeat yourself because he was too out of it to pay attention to your words.

“Zach,” you giggle. “It’s raining. We should go.”

In that moment, he feels a raindrop on his head.

“Oh. Yeah,” he says. He bends to pick up the soccer ball, dreading how long the walk back to the staff cabins is.

You rush off the field, letting him grab your hand, enveloped in the darkness of the night. Drops of rain start to hammer down within seconds, cold moisture covering your clothes.

“Shit,” Zach chuckles, running faster, pulling you forward. “We won’t make it.”

You’re both laughing breathlessly when you run into the closest storage shed, shutting the door behind you, clothes sticking to you.

When Zach stumbles over something in the dark with a grunt, you laugh even harder, asking him if he’s okay between your cackles.

“I could have broken something,” he says, pretending he’s insulted, “and you’re laughing.”

You feel for him in the dark, cupping his bare forearms as he stumbles over the disorganized supplies scattered on the floor.

“Are you okay?” you repeat, facing him, trying to make out his features in the dark.

“Why don’t people ever clean up?” Zach complains. “It’s a safety hazard.”

“For the third time, are you okay?” you say amusedly. Your hands feel up his arms, cupping his face as the rain loudly drums on the roof.

“Yes,” he finally murmurs. He wishes it wasn’t so dark so that he could see you, but if he turned on the light, it’d be too easy for someone to notice.

“Good,” you whisper. You gently stroke his cheeks with your thumbs, feeling a bit of stubble over his jaw, his skin cool from the night air as he leans into your touch.

“That feels nice.” His voice is low and rough beneath the sound of pouring rain. You smile to yourself, adjusting to the dark, seeing that he shut his eyes.

“Then I’ll keep doing it,” you respond.

“You looked good out there,” he murmurs. “I mean, you’re skilled. You don’t have anything to worry about. You’re a solid soccer player.”

“So, to clarify, my playing looked good, but I didn’t?”

Zach lets out a tsk, finding your waist.

“Cut it out,” he scoffs. “You know how pretty you are.”

“I do?”

“Come on,” he mumbles. “Don’t even pretend to say bad things about yourself.”

“Or what?” you ask.

“I’ll cry. Is that what you want?”

You giggle, loving how easily he makes you laugh, feeling like you’ll be falling victim to your own impulses. And fast.

Cool down. You said you’d cool down. But there’s nothing cool about his lips pressing against yours when you pull him closer.

It’s only been a few days since you had a moment totally alone together, but when he kisses you with abandon, it’s like your body is getting its first drop of water after being parched.

As your kisses grow hungrier, Zach’s body melts into pure contentment. It’s perfect how you fit into each other, how his mind goes completely blank when he holds you, letting him ease into the bliss of your touch.

Your lips brush and your tongues graze and your breaths catch as you kiss, his grip on your waist tightening as your palms press on his cheeks.

“We’re bad at this,” you whisper when your lips part. “We’re bad at staying away from each other.”

“I’m okay with that,” Zach rasps, pulling you in tight, his body curving into yours.

You’re in a fog as you continue to make out, surrounded by him, listening to your shallow breaths and the heavy rain.

Your knees are weak by the time you pull away from each other, the roar of rain now reduced to calm droplets.

“What now?” Zach breathes. He needs to know if he’s going to go through the agony of not sneaking around with you anymore.

Every inch of his skin tingles with warmth. He wishes he could just lie down with you, not because he needs anything sexual, but because he hates the thought of saying goodnight and parting ways.

“I don’t know,” you reply. “I don’t like not kissing you. But I don’t like getting fired, either.”

Despite himself, he smirks, dipping his head to pull you into a hug and bury his face in the crook of your neck. You drape your arms around his broad shoulders, shutting your eyes as he squeezes you.

Zach breathes you in, feeling safer than he ever has in his life.

“I’m really glad you texted me,” he mumbles.

“Me, too,” you say.

When you sneak back into your cabin, still wearing his sweater, the fear you felt of getting caught the whole walk over reminds you of why you suggested you cool things down in the first place.

If you’re found out, it’s over. You’re still not sure what to do, if you should keep trying to stay away from him or just continue meeting in secret. But you do know that whatever you decide, Zach will respect it.

The next morning, you wake up with a sore throat. You realize you caught a mild cold from last night. And being sick in the middle of the summer while working an exhausting job is not ideal.

You barely make it through the day, then have an overnight shift in one of the campers’ cabins. By the next day, you’re a bit better, mainly dealing with muscle soreness.

After dinner, Zach notices the faraway look in your eyes as you sit across the fire and talk with campers. You were together just two nights ago, kissing and laughing, but you haven’t had a chance to speak privately since. And something seems wrong.

He discreetly pulls out his phone to text you: Are you ok?

You feel the buzz in your pocket and when you read his text, you meet his eyes, melting at the concern in his gaze. In an effort to ease his worry, you speak a little louder to the kids around you.

“Nobody caught my cold, right?” you ask. They shake their heads no.

“You’re sick?” Zach asks from the other side of the pit, over the chatter.

“A little,” you reply, your nose scrunching. “But the worst of it is over.”

Zach’s heart aches, upset that you’re in pain and that he didn’t notice sooner. It’s from the night you got caught in the rain together. He’s sure of it.

When he knocks on your door after lights out, even though he’s still uneasy about your cabin-mate knowing about you two, at least he doesn’t have to worry about how to look like a concerned friend and nothing more.

You’re sitting in bed when Ami swings open the door. Zach is standing on your front step, cupping something in his hands, his eyes darting between her and you.

“Hey,” he says, looking at you. “Thought I’d drop off some tea.”

Ami looks back at you, a grin on her face.

“You brought her tea?” she says. “That’s so sweet.”

“It is sweet,” you say with a shy smile. “Thank you.”

“Come in,” Ami says, stepping back. “You can hang out. I was about to go see what Malcolm’s up to anyway.”

“Really?” you ask, not buying it.

“He’s on an overnight,” Zach says.

“Is he? That’s crazy,” she says with a coy smile. She looks at you. “Text me.”

You know what she means; you need to let her know when she can come back since you and Zach might be in doing more than just hanging out.

Ami pulls a sweater over her pajama top and rushes out, leaving you and Zach alone in the cabin.

“Where’d you get tea?” you ask once the door shuts.

“From the office,” he says, crossing the room and setting the mug on your nightstand. He settles on the edge of your bed, inches away from you, gazing at you worryingly.

“I can get more if you need it,” he says. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re sick?”

“It’s really not that bad,” you tell him. “It’s just a headache now.“

He purses his lips, reaching forward to put the back of his hand on your forehead.

“I don’t think I have a fever,” you laugh.

“No other symptoms?”

“Just a sore throat yesterday, but it passed.”

“From being in the rain the other night?”

“That, and the stress of being scared we’ll get caught,” you laugh. He knows you’re joking, but his chest twists in pain. “Should I have told you?“

The question sets him aback for a moment, uncertainty rushing through him. You’ve been acting like you want a relationship, too, but maybe he’s being unrealistically hopeful.

Even though he’s been afraid to come on too strong, he needs to know, so he speaks before he can talk himself out of it.

“If I’m going to be your boyfriend, I need to know when you’re not feeling well,” Zach says.

You gaze at him for a silent few seconds. He’s unbelievably grateful when you lean forward and press your forehead into his chest, hugging him as best you can while you sit across from each other.

“It was just a little cold,” you mumble. “But I bet it would’ve been worse if my boyfriend didn’t make me wear his sweater.”

He cracks a smile, relieved, loving the way it sounds coming from you.

“Which you stole, by the way,” he says, making you laugh. He kisses the top of your head, then leans over to hand you the mug, steam curling from the top.

“Thank you,” you say. “How are you?”

You talk to each other about your days, swapping stories as you lean against the wall, taking slow sips.

“I’m cured,” you say once you’re done, setting the empty mug on the nightstand.

“Can I get you anything else?” he asks.

“Hugs,” you say, feeling desperate for his touch.

Zach grins, standing to let you comfortably lie down before he settles next to you. Your cheek is on his shoulder as he holds you in his arms, and when he lifts your chin to guide you into a kiss, you shake your head.

“You’ll get sick,” you warn.

“What? You said I cured you.” He pecks your lips gently, then shifts to kiss your forehead. “Where’s it hurt? Here?”

“Mhm,” you mumble.

“I don’t think it’s the cold,” he says. “Your head hurts because you think about me too much.”

You giggle, your hand trailing up and down his firm stomach.

“Oh, that must be it,” you say.

“I think about you too much, too.”

“You do?” You close your eyes as he continues to plant gentle kisses on your forehead. “What do you think about?”

“I mostly wonder when the next time I can be with you is,” he murmurs, “and how it can’t come fast enough.”

You stroke his chest, stopping to feel his heartbeat over the fabric of his shirt.

“Me, too,” you say. You trail back down his stomach and up again, arousal twisting in your core the more you feel him.

He sighs quietly. It’s unreal how just a minute of your touch does this to him. He’s already hard.

When you gently tug at his hip so he’ll turn on his side to face you, you feel him stiffen once his erection presses against your stomach, letting out a heavy exhale.

“I swear I didn’t come over to do this,” Zach murmurs, worried you’ll think he’d try to come by under false pretences just to hook up.

“I believe you,” you whisper against his neck, kissing softly, breathing in his scent.

Zach kisses the top of your head, cradling your jaw, revelling in the feeling of your affection, sure you can feel him growing even harder against you.

“I don’t know if – I mean, are we back to seeing each other?”

You shuffle back to meet his eyes, sympathy in your gaze.

“I’m sorry if I’ve been confusing,” you say. “I know I told you we should cool down just to make out with you like, two days later.”

“I’m not complaining,” Zach says with a soft chuckle. Maybe someone else would be frustrated, but everything about this summer has been unpredictable and he’s always been quick to adapt.

“I can’t decide what to do. I feel like you,” you tease.

“Hurtful,” he jokes, squinting.

“Remind me of how much time we have left before the season ends,” you say sadly.

“A month and three days.”

“It’s cute that you know the exact number.” The compliment makes his cheeks flush pink.

“Yeah, I’m pretty cute,” he replies. You laugh, your fingers dipping beneath the hem of his t-shirt. He bites his lip when he feels your skin against his, eyelids low.

“You’re very cute,” you say. “And very kind for coming to check on me.”

His heart is racing. You’re looking at him in that way he said you can’t look at him at work. It gets him all flustered, making him feel like you want him as bad as he wants you.

“And so sweet and so handsome,” you continue, your hand sliding up his back under his shirt. “And so good for me.”

“Baby,” he sighs happily, the praise making his head swim. “You know what that does to me.”

“That’s why I’m doing it,” you breathe. “One more night? Then, we cool down, for real?”

“But your head hurts.”

You shrug, admittedly still feeling tension in your temples.

“You made it better,” you say. He shifts lower to kiss you, gently sucking on your bottom lip, breathing heavily.

His thoughts are rushing like a current, the desire to make you feel good, to relax you in the best possible way burning deep inside him.

When he pulls back a bit, his lips brush against yours when he asks, “Can I kiss lower? Make you feel even better?”

You catch the weight of his words, the coil in you tightening even more.

“Yes,” you breathe. “Please.”

“You never have to say please to me,” Zach says. “Not for that.”

You groan when he lowers to kiss your neck, down to your collarbones, over the swells of your breasts. He’s on his knees as he pulls up your shirt, trailing kisses up your stomach as he hungrily pulls down your pants.

You lift your hips to help him push them off, left in your panties in seconds.

Zach settles on his elbows, his eyes meeting yours as he rests with his head between your bent legs. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you as he puckers his lips against your inner thigh.

“You want this?” he murmurs.

“Yes,” you sigh happily.

“Me, too,” he says. “So bad.”

He kisses harder, surely going to leave a mark. His big hand drags over your knee, down your other thigh, resting at your pelvis.

His gaze refuses to leave yours, his lips still on your skin, when he lowers his hand to stroke his thumb over your middle. You moan softly, blinking slowly.

Like every other time he touches you, it feels like a dream. He can’t believe he gets to do this. The anticipation of knowing he’ll be tasting you soon makes his skin tingle.

Zach is agonizingly slow with his kisses, planting them all up one thigh, then moving to the other, then dipping to kiss right above where you need him most, over your underwear.

You lace your fingers in his messy hair, not pushing or pulling, just feeling his head move with every kiss, trying to be patient.

Finally, he puts his mouth over your core, kissing over the fabric, pulling a shudder out of you.

He can feel how wet you are, earning a taste of you, and it makes him ache with need. He looks up at you again as he gently pulls at the band of your panties.

Once you kick them off, his lips part in awe when you readjust to slightly spread your legs.

“Fuck,” he breathes. It’s almost nerve-racking, the way he’s staring at you. You’ve never been looked at like this. He gently pushes your knee down so he can see more of you.

“Fuck,” he says again, groaning through the word this time. He can’t wait any longer, lowering to press his lips against you. Your body rolls with pleasure when he makes contact, his lips warm and wet and soft, puckering against you.

Zach leaves countless kisses on you, angling his head so that he can give every part of you equal attention, licking his lips in between so that he can savor you.

You arch your back as he starts to languidly tongue you, letting out low moans and warm breaths. His nose presses against your groin, the sound of his wet kisses filling the room.

You run the heel of your palm over his head, caressing him, and he starts to suck your clit, his lips locked tightly.

“That feels so good,” you whisper. The way his mouth is working you sends waves of easy, soft satisfaction through you.

He threshes his tongue, gazing up at you as your face pinches in pleasure. You meet his eyes again, seeing how utterly intoxicated he looks to be doing something so intimate with you.

Zach pulls back, lips smacking off of you, panting now. He runs his hand up to your hip to find your hand and lace his fingers in yours.

“You taste so sweet,” he says, his tone thick with ecstasy, before leaning down again. It’s even better than he even imagined. You’re so slick and hot against his tongue. He could do this for hours.

You continue to run your fingers through his hair with one hand as you squeeze his fingers with the other, soft sighs spilling from your mouth. When you feel his tongue dip into you, you have to bite your bottom lip to quiet your moan.

His groans vibrate against you, guiding you into a state of pure solace. He pulls his hand away from yours to stroke his thumb in gentle circles over your clit as he tongues you. Every inch of your body tingles.

“Don’t stop,” you breathe. “That’s perfect.”

The praise spurs him on. His jaw is sore from how much his tongue is writhing inside you, but your pleasure is worth it.

The orgasm reaches you quickly, a million fireworks of ecstasy bursting through you, pushing you to quiver beneath him.

Zach kisses you as you come down from your high, shifting up to kiss your thigh, then your sternum, then finally your lips.

You meet his lips lazily and tenderly, tasting yourself on him. When you slowly trail your hand down his stomach to palm him over his sweats, he pulls back.

“No, baby,” he murmurs. “I don’t want you doing any work. Just rest tonight.”

He’s rock hard. You can tell how bad he needs the release. You want to do this for him, no matter how dazed you are. But you know he’ll feel guilty if he feels like you’re straining yourself.

“Then you do the work,” you whisper. “The condoms are in the bottom drawer.”

Zach sighs, kissing between your eyebrows, breaths shallow.

“I made you sore last time.”

“A good sore,” you breathily laugh.

“You’re sure?” he asks.

“I want you,” you say.

Your lids are low as Zach shifts to find a condom, pulling down his sweats and boxers, rolling it on carefully. His large frame leans over you, a flush coloring his cheeks as he looks down at you.

“I’m going slow,” he tells you.

“Whatever you want,” you say, and you mean it.

He holds himself at his base, slowly dipping himself into where his tongue was just minutes ago. His breath is strained as he sinks into you, wrapped in your soft heat.

He’s close to bottoming out, and stops, stroking your cheek.

“Still good?” he rasps.

“Yes,” you say. “Keep going.”

Zach sinks into you completely, taking a moment to savor how nice it is to be deep inside you again. His mouth is at the crook of your neck as he slowly starts to thrust back and forth, your bodies meeting with soft smacks.

The pressure of him is hard and perfect as your body rocks with his movements. You shut your eyes, swimming in bliss, breathing out short sighs into his ear as he rocks in and out.

He can’t believe how nicely you’re squeezing him, how perfect you feel, how lucky he is to be here right now. Your bed squeaks when he starts to move faster, his muscles tensing as you wrap your arms around him.

“Still okay?” Zach whispers.

“Yes,” you say. “Come for me.”

Your words are everything to him, the tender dominance he so deeply loves spinning him into a euphoric high. The way you make him feel makes the world stand still, makes him feel like perfection can exist.

He kisses you deeply, his stomach tautening as he comes. He continues to thrust slowly as he rides out the pleasure.

When he collapses, you kiss his cheek over and over, running your hand over the back of his head.

“Thank you,” he whispers. You smile weakly.

“Thank you,” you say.

Zach doesn’t let you stand up. After he gets dressed, he grabs a towel to help clean you up, gentle and slow. You’re still lying on your back when he sits at the end of your bed to pull your panties up over your ankles.

“You always gonna do that?” you tease quietly. “Put my clothes back on after?”

“Yes,” he says. He pulls them all the way up, then drags your pants up, too, before lying down next to you. You shuffle into the position you were in before, your cheek on his shoulder, his arms around you.

“My headache’s gone,” you tell him, “and I’m not just saying that.”

Zach’s chest gently bounces as he laughs.

“Good,” he says. He rubs up and down your arm. “Just tell me when I should go.”

“How’s never?” you ask. He smiles. His heart has never felt warmer.

“Doable,” he chuckles, kissing your forehead. “And… I’m with you. We’ll wait until the end of the season. I don’t want you stressed out, baby.”

“Okay,” you agree. It’s bittersweet and a month and three days have never felt so long, but you agree.

Eventually, you pull yourselves apart. You kiss Zach goodbye and text Ami that the coast is clear.

The next few days are a busy haze, full of stolen glances between you and Zach, and before you know it, it’s the midpoint of the season, the day of staff game.

It’s a scorching afternoon as you warm up on the pitch, eyes flitting to Zach as he jogs on the other side of the field.

Both teams were randomly assigned, and when you noticed that Zach was wearing a red vest over his t-shirt, not matching your blue one, you internally sighed.

You miss him. And if you were on the same team, at least you’d have a perfectly valid reason to talk with him right now.

The campers are seated under canopies on the touchline, already in a spirited cheer-off, rooting for the team their counselors are on.

Ruby blows the whistle to signal the start of the game. Your team keeps the ball on the other side of the field for the first little while, but remain goalless, until eventually, the red team starts to move in.

You’re focused, feeling more confident about your playing than you have in a while. You know you have Zach to thank. You hope you have the opportunity to tell him soon.

You’re quick on your feet as you watch the red team retain possession, the ball quickly spinning back and forth over the grass.

Finally, they make their move, with Zach leading. With slightly bent knees, you watch as he approaches the goal. You’re the only person left between him and your goalie.

He fakes left, but you call his bluff, stepping right to successfully kick it away. A chorus of groans sounds from the campers and some of his teammates.

“Oh, come on, Zach!” Malcolm shouts from the halfway line. “Obviously you want to go easy on your girl, but have some pride.”

“Chill, Malcolm,” Ami shouts back, laughing uneasily. You look back at your teammate, wondering if she broke her promise and told him about you. Or maybe Zach let him know at some point.

Or maybe Malcolm doesn’t know anything and you’re just reading into it. Your eyes dart to Zach as he jogs away. He looks back, his expression tense.

The game ends in a 0-0 draw, and Ruby decides it should come down to a penalty shootout just to end it with a bang. To your surprise, Zach misses, hitting the post. He looks rattled. Your team wins.

After lights out, you replay the moment on the field in your head, wondering how many people heard Malcolm. You want to question Ami about it, but you don’t get a chance to before she leaves for her overnight shift.

You step out into the humid night, figuring a walk will be a good way to clear your head. The anxiety eventually is too big to avoid, so you text Zach: everything alright? does Malcolm know?

As you pace past the camper cabins on your loop around the campground, you see that he replied. I asked him after the game. He knows. Ami told him.

You send a sigh up to the starry sky. She promised. Now not only is the secret out to two people, but considering that Malcolm is Zach’s best friend, maybe he was offended that Zach didn’t tell him, causing even more issues.

You text him: crap. sorry. do you want to talk about it?

You’re surprised and a little slighted to see him text back: It’s all good.

When you reach the staff area, you see Zach’s tall figure heading down the steps of his cabin.

Zach never thought he wouldn’t be glad to see you. But after the tense conversation he just had with Malcolm, he knows that the worry he’s harboring over the very real possibility that his aunt heard Malcolm’s words on the field today won’t make him good company.

He knows it’s not your fault. He willingly went into this with you. He pursued it. He left the marks on your body that exposed you. He should be mad at Malcolm for what he shouted today, and Malcolm only.

But he has a voice in the back of his mind pestering him, frustrated that you didn’t just hide it better and not tell Ami. And he feels like shit for being a little mad at you.

You already saw him. He’s not going to be a dick and ignore you. He’s going to pretend he’s fine.

“Hi,” you say softly, stopping in front of your cabin.

“Hey,” he says. “Out for a walk?”

“Are you mad at me?” you ask.

“What? No,” he says. “Why do you think that?”

“It feels like…” You hold up your phone. “I don’t know, this is the type of thing you’d want to talk about. But you just brushed me off.”

“I’m sorry,” he says. “We’re keeping our distance, right?”

You cross your arms, unable to shake the feeling that he’s not being totally honest. You know him well enough by now. Maybe he’s good at putting on a show for other people. But it’s not working on you.

“Zach, is this… is this what you talked about before?” you ask over the crickets chirping loudly around you. “When you said you don’t like to admit it when something’s bothering you?“

He looks down, his tongue jutting from under his cheek.

“Are you mad at me?” you ask again.

He’s silent. His mind is totally blank. He’s never been good at this. He hates that he can’t control how he feels. He feels like a bad person for being upset with someone so sweet who didn’t mean any harm.

“This just… it sucks,” Zach mumbles.

You nod slowly. It’s not a clear answer, but it’s enough. Your heart feels too heavy to force a conversation.

“Yeah,” you say. “It does.”

You turn to go up to your cabin. It hurts when he doesn’t stop you.

(part seven)

if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘

[afterglowkatie]

friend night into date night | l.w.

leah williamson x reader | 1.6k | an almost weekly tradition where leah gets to spend uninterrupted time with her favourite person

ˏˋ°•*⁀this is my first time writing for a real person, i used to write for fictional characters. hope you like it :)

Ever since you got back from your year long trip, Leah made sure you had one night almost every week where it was just the two of you. The two of you together doing anything you wanted, free from any and all expectations. Leah always tried to make time for these nights though there would always be a break whenever she was away on camp with England. Leah loved representing her country but hated being away from you, though the messages you’d send her of how proud of Leah you were would always help.

Normally these nights consisted of going out for dinner, exploring places you haven’t been or just staying in with either takeout or you cooked for her. Either way they always ended the same with you sprawled out on Leah’s couch watching movies and today was just like any other. Leah insisted on taking you to this new restaurant that just opened, remembering how you had been talking her ear off about it for months. There was no doubt in her mind when she instantly made a booking to take you there. Leah would do anything to make you happy, anything to see a smile brighten up your face.

Leah knew she made the right choice when you didn’t stop gushing over the food and how good it was and how happy you were to be there with her. You might talk a lot but never once did Leah make you feel like you were annoying or boring her. She always listened with a smile spread across her face.

‘Who’s idea was it to walk,’ You complained while wrapping your arms around your body trying to find some warmth on the walk back to Leah’s apartment.

‘If you’re cold,’ Before you could protest Leah took off her jacket and placed it over your shoulders while wrapping an arm around your waist pulling you closer to her. Warmth quickly spread over you, liking the idea of having Leah wrapped around you in some way or another.

‘But what if you get cold Le?’ You breathed out softly, leaning your head on her shoulder looking up at her. ‘I have like a million layers on, I’m sure I can spare you one without freezing,’ Leah smiled down at you warmly, watching the way you threw your head back slightly while laughing.

‘Keep it babe. It looks better on you anyway,’ Leah stopped you from giving her jacket back the second you walked through her apartment doors. Feeling your cheeks grow warm, you turned your head away slightly trying to keep your smile under control, ‘You get the snacks and I’ll get the blankets?’ You nodded thankful for the distraction from how your heart had started beating a little faster.

The movie hadn’t been on for long before Leah wrapped her arm around your shoulder pulling you into her side. You liked being close to her, something about Leah always made you feel warm and safe. Leah often kept you close, feeling the need to protect you whether it was in big crowds or just the two of you, knowing you were close to her made her happy. It wasn’t long after she held you close that your head ended up laying in Leah’s lap with her fingers running gently through your hair.

Anyone who didn’t know the two of you often mistook you for being together, not knowing how long you had been such close friends for. You were most comfortable around Leah and she was most comfortable around you. It had always been that way, even when you were little, and it had never changed.

‘Le,’ You whined out, ‘Can I use your phone? Mine died and I’m way too comfortable to get up,’ Leah laughed softly at the way you dramatically threw your phone down against the couch. She rolled her eyes playfully while you gave her a look that she just couldn’t say no to.

‘Sure, now put those eyes away,’ Leah smiled at you before covering your eyes, they were her biggest weakness and you knew how to play that to your advantage.

‘Le, aw I’m your lock screen. You’re mine too! See,’ Reaching for your phone trying to get it to light up to show her before groaning remembering that it was dead, ‘Oh I’ll show you later. Passcode please Le,’ Not tearing your eyes away you watched while Leah pressed each number, instantly recognising the group of numbers, ‘Wait, Le that’s my birthday,’ You turned your head furrowing your eyebrows slightly.

‘Oh is that what that is,’ Leah tried to feign innocence. A quick and brief comment while turning her head back to the movie, pretending to watch it while her thoughts were racing through her mind. Leah realises that you know her well enough to know that anything she does is never out of coincidence.

Thankfully, for Leah, you didn’t press that topic, happily turning your attention to the phone in your hand while listening to the movie playing and enjoying the way Leah’s fingers massaged your head. It wasn’t until the movie ended that you could feel Leah staring down at you. Locking her phone, you placed it down alongside your currently dead phone before meeting her gaze smiling softly at each other. Leah’s mind was racing with thoughts of you, ones she couldn’t shake no matter what she did. You noticed the way her smile faltered slightly and her body tensed up against yours. Eyebrows furrowed in confusion caused Leah to sigh.

‘I have to show you something,’ Leah was normally confident and bold but right now she was slightly apprehensive. Her slight change in demeanour had made you a little unsettled but you let Leah pull you from the couch and into her room. Sure you had been in her room plenty of times but right now it made you nervous to be in here, not knowing what was about to happen. 

Leah rummaged through her closet, almost wishing she could back out from what she was about to show you knowing it might change things. Hoping things between the two of you wouldn’t change for the worse. It was a risk Leah was willing to take, her heart just couldn’t take it much longer. Leah pulled out a small box from the top of her closet, gently placing it down on the bed next to you. Careful with the box as if the contents inside could break easily.

You gave Leah a reassuring smile, it was enough to get her to open allowing you to see the contents of the small box. Your eyes were wide and in awe at what was inside, ‘Le you kept all the letters I sent you?’ It really shouldn’t have been a surprise seeing all the letters and little gifts you had sent her while you were away on your year long trip. Though you were sure maybe some would’ve gotten lost or accidentally thrown away but you recognised every single one was there, ‘Wow you must really love me,’ Your comment was slightly teasing, though you knew Leah only loved and saw you as her best friend.

‘Yep…’ Leah breathed out quietly, though it was loud enough that you managed to catch it and the way she had said it along with the longing look in her eyes. You always did know how to read her.

‘What?’ You questioned, hoping that she would say the words you had always wished to hear from her. Hoping she meant it in the way that you wanted her to mean it.

‘Look,’ Leah moved the box sitting down next to you on the bed, fidgeting with her fingers. You shakily placed your hand on top of hers, holding them and trying to reassure her to continue on. Leah instantly laced your fingers together, looking at them while taking a moment to contemplate her next words to you. Hoping you felt the same way and that she wasn’t about to ruin the friendship the two of you had, ‘babe, when you were gone for the entire year it killed me not being able to see you. The time apart made me realise how much you mean to me. It’s why I suggested these weekly nights, just the two of us. It wasn’t about a night away from work, it was more about spending uninterrupted time with you,’ Leah paused, playing with your fingers, trying not to let her fear take over her and take back everything she’s already said.

‘Leah, what are you saying?’ You had a good idea where she was going. You kept pushing, wanting to actually hear Leah say the words to you.

Leah lifted her gaze from where your hands held each other, catching your eyes softly, ‘I love you. More than I could ever express to you. I want to turn our weekly friend nights into date nights,’ 

Your smile widened at Leah’s confession, heart racing you gave her hands a small squeeze of affection, ‘I love you too Le. So much. I didn’t think you felt the same, it’s the reason I left for so long because it was too painful to think or see you with someone that wasn’t me,’ You looked down feeling stupid for how you handled your feelings and worried Leah would be upset with you.

Leah softly pulled her hands from yours, gently taking your head in her hands so you were now looking at her. Rubbing her thumb along your cheek she smiled at you before leaning in, capturing your lips between hers. You relaxed into Leah’s touch, both of you smiling against each other's lips before pulling away. Leaning her forehead against yours she whispered out, ‘You’ll never have to worry about that. For as long as you’ll have me, I am completely yours,’

[pinkslipxox]

Not Ready:

Summary: A conversation with your friends makes you worried about a touchy subject and Billie comforts you

Warnings: fluff, angsty-ish(?), mentions of smut 🥰

—————————————-—————————————

The Californian sun shines brightly over the open-air mall located at the heart of Los Angeles. You are sitting with your friends at a café enjoying a latte, listening to a story that one of your friends is telling when in the midst of the conversation, your phone chimes. A smile instantly spreads on your face when you see that it is a text from your girlfriend, Billie.

‘Hey, pretty girl! Just checking up on you. I hope you’re having a good time with your friends. Can’t wait to see you soon,’ the text reads followed by a few heart emojis.

You quickly type: ‘Hi, babes! I am, thank you. See you when I get home’.

“Who’s making you smile like that, Y/N?” one of your friends tease in a sing-song voice.

“Billie,” you admit with a sheepish chuckle as you put away your phone. Your friends giggle, sending knowing looks to each other.

“How are things going between you two?” the other muses, her eyes glowing with delight.

“Things are going so well! She treats me like a princess… and we love each other so much,” you gush, your cheeks warming up as your friends giggle and ‘aww’ like schoolgirls.

Despite inviting Billie to your outing, she had insisted that you and your friends had fun by yourselves. You’d be lying if you didn’t admit that you’re missing your girlfriend. In the time that you two have been together, you’ve built quite a strong bond. And you couldn’t be happier.

“I bet you two can barely keep your hands off each other,” your friend smirks as your other friend wags her eyebrows playfully.

“Tell us eveything!” your other friend insists with a giddy smile.

You had a feeling this topic would be brought up. In the beginning of your relationship, you voiced your desire to save intimacy until further along in your relationship, wanting to take things slow. Billie has been nothing but patient and understanding, and while you know that she’s willing to wait for as long as you need to, you know that you can’t just make her wait forever.

“There isn’t that much to say,” you force a chuckle, shifting awkwardly in your chair. “Billie and I… we haven’t… y-y know…”

“No way! Really?” your first friend gasps, her eyes wide with shock.

“What are you two waiting for, Y/N?” the other interjects.

“We’re just taking it slow. And she’s been very respectful,” you defend, sipping your latte to fortify yourself.

Your first friend huffs. “But you two have been together for almost a year now! Billie’s probably loosing her patience.”

“It’s just sex, Y/N. Not rocket science,” your other friend adds with a chuckle although it comes out more like a scoff.

You quickly change the conversation, not wanting to feel even more embarrassed that you already are. Instead of listening to your friends talk, all you can hear are their words echoing in your ears. The more you resonate on their words, the more you realize that your friends are probably right about how Billie must be feeling. Your last relationship ended for the exact same reason, but Billie is not at all like your ex. She wouldn’t break up with you over something like this… would she?

“I have to go,” you say quickly and leave before any of your friends can say anything.

The drive home is quicker than you except it to be. It hardly gave you enough time to decide what you were going to do when you saw Billie. But the moment you see her at the entrance, smiling at you, you make up your mind.

“Welcome home, mama!” Billie exclaims happily as she makes her way over to you with her arms stretched out. She hugs you tightly, pepping kisses to your cheek.

“Thank you, Bills,” you say softly, and you swear that if she listened closer, she could hear your heart beating out of your chest.

“Let me help you with those,” Billie insists as she takes your bags from your hands. “What did you get? Anything cute?”

“Just some jeans and a new pair of shoes,” you murmur as you follow her into your shared bedroom. You glance at the bed, biting your lower lip, and all of the sudden it looks much more intimidating. And you find yourself asking if the bed has always taken up so much space.

“How are your friends?” Billie asks sweetly and your heart twists at the mention of them.

“They’re fine,” you say as nonchalantly as possible, forcing a smile. Of course, Billie sees right through it. She puts the bags down and makes her away over to you, her hands resting on your hips, pulling you closer. Her ocean blue eyes look at you with concern.

“What’s wrong, Y/N? You—“

You cut Billie off by pressing your lips on hers, passionately, and for a moment Billie is frozen before she instantly kisses you back. Her grip on you tightens, her warm tongue massaging deliciously with yours, and you can’t help but moan into her mouth. You feel her smirk against your lips, and it gives you the confidence you need to trail your lips along her jawline and down her neck, making her gasp.

“God, Y/N,” Billie murmurs huskily, her voice low and rough, as she tilts her head up to give you more access. You suck gently on her sensitive, just the way she sometimes does to you, and the sound of your name being moaned reassures you that you’re doing something right.

Billie draws your mouth back to hers, the kiss more urgent, almost desperate than the one before. Your pulse quickens at the thought of the next step that needs to happen, and with that, you guide Billie to the bed. A soft moan escapes your girlfriend’s lips as she falls back gently on the bed. You straddle her, your heart beating against your chest, your mind scrambling to figure out what to do next. Then, as if to read your mind, Billie flips the two of you over.

“You’re so beautiful,” Billie whispers, gripping your chin lightly, and you notice that her eyes have darkened yet the usual softness is still visible in them, comforting you a bit.

“I love you, Billie,” you say softly, and Billie’s lips spread into a smile.

“I love you, too, Y/N,” she replies sincerely before brushing her lips against yours.

Then, to your great surprise, Billie gets off you.

“W-what’s wrong? You’re not going to make love to me?” you panic and Billie kisses your forehead, letting her lips linger there before pressing her forehead gently against yours.

“Not tonight, sweet girl,” Billie murmurs softly and your heart sinks.

“Why? Don’t you want me?” Your voice is barely above a whisper and for a moment you don’t recognize it. With a soft sigh, Billie pulls you to her lap, her arms wrapped around you tightly.

“Of course I do, Y/N. But I can tell that you’re not ready for this yet. I want this to be memorable for you. For us. And I love and respect you too much to do this when you’re not one hundred percent sure about it,” Billie says, her voice soft but firm.

“I-I’m sorry,” you whimper as tears slowly begin to roll down your face. You’re embarrassed. And yet at the same time relieved. Deep down, you know you aren’t ready. Not anytime soon.

“You want to tell me what brought this on?” Billie asks, tucking a few loose stands behind your ear.

You take a deep breath. “My friends asked me how things were going with each other. And they asked if we’ve ever been intimate… and when I said no, they were in shock. One of them even said you were loosing your patience with me. That’s why… because… I-I’m sorry, Billie.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, my love,” your girlfriend assures you, gently wiping the tears away with her thumbs. She gives you a gentle smile. “I’d wait forever for you, Y/N. Not just for sex but for anything. Please don’t ever forget that.”

“Promise me that one day, when we do it, it’ll be special,” you murmur softly, looking into your girlfriend’s eyes.

“I promise,” Billie hums before sealing her promise with a gentle kiss.

“Cuddle me?” you request and Billie smiles softly.

“Whatever you want, Y/N,” she replies before laying down on the bed again, her arms reaching out for you. You snuggle up to her, grateful to have a girlfriend like Billie.

[pampushky]

ive been watching him for my entire life

Alpha! Lando Norris/Omega! Lauda! Reader - chapter 1 - 6.1k

TW: Scene of attempted SA, and the abuser never referred to by name. Sexism (but in the A/B/O sense). Self-harm and depressive episodes.

Themes: Exploration of what disabilities, PTSD, and chronic pain look like in the A/B/O world. If you have input about what that may look like, dm me. Slow burn. So much so you're not sure if it's even burning at times.

also yeah Loscar is canon it's my au I can do what I fucking want

Leave your feedback in the comments/feel free to dm me about that shit if you don't feel comfy dropping an anon or comment.

next part | masterlist | series masterlist

Mid January. 2024 Paris.

The hallway outside the trial room in the FIA headquarters is deceptively calm. Silent, save for the voices in the room behind you. You’d given your statement. Explained everything that had happened during your past two years at Williams, first with Nicholas Latifi, and then with Logan. Trying to do something with a car that was, in the kindest words, a tractor. Logan sits beside you, with a similar thousand-yard stare, just disassociating into space. Trying to trace the pattern of the carpet. 

“I should have been more— more perceptive,” Logan croaks, and you squeeze his hand, and shake your head. “Jesus. I— I tried to tell them everything. Everything I remembered from before–-”

“Thank you,” your voice is faint. Weak. Unlike you.

“Of course,” Logan squeezes your hand. You squeeze it back. “Always.”

You still remember the pit wall. Having to brush against his elbows occasionally. Knowing he did it on purpose some days, trying to provoke you. Going so far as to send you things coated in his scent when you were in heat, to try and provoke a bond sickness. Saved only by your brothers, curled close to you, letting you sleep in their arms as your fever raged. You were lucky your heats weren’t— weren’t consistently like that. More so just like a terrible fever and migraine, thanks to your medication. 

One pill to keep you from entering a real heat, morning. Two pills to help ease the brain fog from your head injury, morning and night. Another single pill to be taken whenever the pain gets too bad for you to function, any time of day. Anxiety medication, morning. Hormonal amplifiers to make up for the scent glands damaged by the fire all those years ago, morning and night. Scent blockers to mask your scent, morning. In total eight pills a day at your worst, perhaps nine.  

You croon nervously, despite knowing you’re safe here. That just inside the room behind you, past the heavy oak doors, are your grandfather and your uncles brothers. They’d never let anything happen to you. Not again. 

His elbow brushing against yours during the last lap of the race, encouraging Alex, despite his pace and his spot on the grid. Logan thanking you for being his engineer and friend during everything. You sit along the pit wall, silently, as celebrations rock the grid, and he appears in front of you, trying to make small talk, before following as you try to escape it, not wanting to talk to him, even as he looms behind you. His grip on the back of your neck, smothering the only bond you had, to Niki, to your pack. 

The near-toxic scent smothers you because of how close he is. Pushing you behind a stack of tires as you try to fight back, baring your teeth and thrashing while he manages to shove a need into your upper thigh, right through your pants. You yelp, and kick, trying to get any attention towards you, while most of the garage is empty. You feel him tearing at the collar of your shirt, ripping at it, pushing you into the tires. You bring your head into his nose, feeling the gush of blood against your face as he squeals and falls backward a few steps. 

You can’t smell anything besides his blood on your face, the metallic scent making you gag. When he turns to look at you, his face stained red, you growl, your lips drawn back over your teeth, trying to edge along the wall to get away from him. 

With a snarl, he leaps at you, pinning you to the wall, both hands wrapped around your neck, cutting off your airway. You thrash, and just as you think you’re going to pass out, the weight of his hands disappears from your neck. You stay where you are, leaning against the wall. Watching as Logan snarls furiously, pinning the other Alpha to the ground with ease, his long canines bared and coming close to the man’s neck, threatening to tear and rip and end whatever pathetic life he lived—

“I should have done more,” Logan leans down, his head in his hands. 

“You almost killed him,” you whisper, and that seems to startle the driver even more. “You almost killed him. I think that’s enough.”

The two of you sit in silence until Logan’s lawyer and his manager leave the room, closing the door softly behind them. For the brief moment that the doors are open, you hear him screaming his voice hoarse as the judgment comes ever closer. 

“The FIA won’t be pressing any charges,” The lawyer says softly while Logan continues to keep his head down. “Neither will—”

“Don’t say his name,” Logan looks up, interrupting the lawyer before he can even say something. There’s a fire in his words, a rare fury. “Don’t. I don’t— she doesn’t—”

“I apologize, I forgot about that.” The lawyer says, glancing over to look at you. You look presentable now. Nothing like the blurry images the paparazzi had gotten of you without any of your makeup to hide all the burns. Your skin looks more even, the uneven bumps and indents from the mottled scarring across your jaw partially hidden by concealer and foundation. The scars get more severe as they cross your upper cheek and the top of your nose. That’s the only part that’s harder to hide, even when you’ve covered it fully in makeup. 

“It’s time to go, Logan,” 

He looks at you with uncharacteristic panic. He’s the opposite of most alpha stereotypes. You’re glad Oscar’s found his way back to him, and that you’ve gotten to witness the sweet courtship start. He pulls you into a tight hug, and that’s when you finally crumble.

“You’re gonna be okay without me,” You whisper, voice shaking. “You’re gonna be fucking fantastic, Lo.”

“I’m so sorry,” Is all he can murmur, practically folding over you and holding you closer. “Maybe if I—”

“It’s okay. I’ll still be on the grid.”

“But it won’t be the same,”

“No. It won’t,” You choke out, as Logan pulls away. Both of you newly aged by the experience. You won’t be there to defend Logan from James. Logan won’t be there to understand the odd homesickness for a country you only partially remember, stuck between European and American. 

You feel small as Logan is led away by his manager and lawyer. His scent fading as the seconds turn to minutes, and then suddenly an hour has passed. Leaving you alone in the hallway until your brothers can get there. By the time they do arrive (two hours later), you’ve been chewing on your fingers and palms enough to make them bleed. Mathias and Lukas know you well enough to have already brought bandages and towels to help clean and treat the new wounds. Before this, you’d not been chewing or clawing at yourself for nearly a year and a half. Your therapist had looked devastated when you’d turned in the little chip she’d given you for not self-harming. 

There’s screaming from inside the room, before Niki bursts out, snarling a remark over his shoulder before he catches your eye, and softens. Your sire, despite his age, despite the fact that he has been told by his doctor many times that he needs to calm down, to be kinder to his aging body and new kidney, despite everything that should be holding him back, bends to knock his forehead against yours. One of his hands comes to the nape of your neck, softly rubbing the paternal bond he’d left there, claiming you as his child rather than a descendant. 

“Maus,” The feel of his scarred hands is familiar, comforting. His scent is even more so. Like spruce trees and slightly burnt sugar. Looking at you with red-rimmed irises that show his designation, his secondary sex, while he looms over you protectively. He sees the new bandages around your hands and the new bulkiness of your sleeves. 

“Oh, Maus…” Niki leans down, and croons 

If he wasn’t in active recovery from the kidney transplant, he’d likely be curling around you in his wolf form, just as he had done when you were little and first placed in his care after—

“You’re safe here. You’re safe.” 

It’s moments like this that you’re glad that your sense of smell was so destroyed after the fire. You’re grateful that you could only catch the faint scent of those within a small area around you. Because all you can smell is your father, your sire, who would burn the world down for you if it meant making you smile. That Mathias and Lukas— your brothers, not uncles, never uncles, too close to be considered just uncles to you— mark a silent guard beside you, Lukas in canine form, letting you hide your face in his dusty blond-brown fur. Mathias stands silently beside you, but with his hand held tightly in yours.

Memories of your first moments with them. The terror. Sleeping in the pillow forts and nests you’d built up until this very point in time. Always your guardians. Always by your side. In the hospital and beyond. 

You’re chewing on your thumbnail, claw extended, and Niki looks at you with a worried gaze, before softly reaching over and squeezing your shoulder.

The door opens again, and you hear shouting in a voice that haunted your dreams from within the room and then more of it, very quickly coming in your direction. Not the exit that you’d been told he would be made to use when the judgment was finally placed. 

You can just barely catch a whiff of the scent— overpowering and choking you as you tried to work, tried to examine all of the strategies that could help Logan succeed in last year’s car while the scent makes it hard to think, to breathe— before it’s nearly upon you entirely, with the Alpha who had made your past two years with Williams utter hell staring down at you, enraged, trying to push past your brothers to get to you, snarling and snapping at you as Niki shoves you forcefully behind him. 

“Tell them— tell them you accepted my courtship! You wanted this—”

Two officials start to drag him away. But you can still remember his scent. How weak he’d made you feel when you were trying to work on the car. Hating how he had purred and crooned with your every movement. Making sure you were always choking on his scent. Lukas rumbles in anger beside you, rising to stare down the man, hiding you from further view with his giant body. But of course he continues. 

“You accepted my gifts! You wanted this—”

No. You hadn’t wanted any of this. You’d just wanted to work on the cars. To help your friend grow and achieve. 

“As if anyone else would have you—”

Mathias snarls, and you can only pray that your grip on his hand is enough to stop him from lunging at the offending man.

“— you useless, crippled omega—”

Niki lunges this time, snarling, the old man’s frankly colossal canine form pining him to the ground with ease. Your sire's teeth just millimeters from tearing his throat out, stopped only by your panicked whine. Such a rare noise from you. You won’t have those you care about kill this man, this weak excuse for an Alpha. You don’t want to think of the heavy scent of his blood when you’re near them, seeking comfort from your family.

“Get him out of my sight,” Niki groans, when just a second later, court officers charge from the room. His canine form melts away, and he huffs, sitting down in one of the stiff chairs with a wince that you are hyper-aware of. Mathias looks at you with deep worry in his eyes. But you’re numb. Watching him get dragged away. Your thigh twinges from where he’d stabbed you with the needle. Part of it had broken off inside of you, removed at the hospital while the FIA officials tried to smooth things over. 

It twinges again when the verdict is read as you’re gently shuffled back into the room. He’s not allowed back in. It’s been shown he can’t control himself. 

“—Guilty on all counts, and shall be henceforth blacklisted from employment by all motorsports under the jurisdiction of the FIA. Omega Lauda shall be awarded a sum off—”

All you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears as you hold your arms tightly. Claws slowly sinking into the fresh bandages and redoing all the damage your brothers had worked so hard to fix.

Early February 2024. Woking. 

Lando knows he’s a big deal. He’s one of the most popular drivers, with a rabid fanbase that was willing to go to bat for him for just about anything, even when he was the one at fault. Edits were made when he so much as breathed. All that he doesn’t have is that elusive first win, but he has a feeling this season will be different. Be it how refreshed he feels after spending some time back in his childhood home with his parents and siblings, just to spend time as a pack for the first time in several years, all six of them together. 

His family is perfect. An alpha and omega set of parents, with two alphas and two omegas for pups, all rather successful. His brother, a former world champion in kart racing, now with a loving mate and the cutest pup in the world. His sister, a showjumper quickly rising through the ranks. All successful and perfect and beautiful. Lando can’t help but puff his chest out a bit, because that’s his pack. 

There’s an odd buzz in the air when he arrives, and through the giant glass windows, he can see how many people are gathered in the building, all wearing bright orange. As he comes closer, the overflowed parking has been filled. He parks his car in his specific spot, right next to Oscar, who’s already there, just not by his car. He’s just about ready to head to the on-site cafe when Andrea pops out of nowhere to drag him by his arm somewhere, cursing slightly.

“Mate— what’s got you in such a mood—” Lando whines, already feeling like the team principal is doing way too much this early in the morning. 

“Did you not read any of your emails or texts?” Andrea hisses, the Beta turning on his heels to grab Lando by both his shoulders, looking straight into the young driver’s eyes with a fury only seen when he’d been messing around in the garage and nearly broke the experimental back wing during testing in the summer. “Lando Norris, I could gut you right now—”

“What did I do?” Lando whines again, high-pitched and childish, and Andrea runs his hands down his face, cursing fluently in Italian, while also asking the Virgin Mary for patience, based on how many times he hears a hail mary tumble past the team principal’s lips. 

“You’re late. An hour late. Oscar, Zak, and I have been calling you for nearly that entire time and you’ve been silent.”

“...Late for what?” Lando utters. His phone had been dead, constantly forgotten to get plugged into the charger. Today had been no different. 

“O Maria, dammi la pazienza e la forza— your new race engineer is being introduced? Today?”

“What?! But I don’t even know who he is—”

“It’s a she, first of all, and maybe you’d know if you checked your emails—”

The conversation must be attracting attention, because soon, Oscar is also by his side, looking mildly disappointed in the older man. The omega’s scent has just the hint of rotting oranges, but other than that, it’s normal, like seasoned salt, charcoal, and oranges. 

“Wonderful first impression, really. She’s already thrilled to not have gotten to talk to you yet,” Oscar chimes in, and Lando groans, sending a withering glare in his direction that just bounces off of the Australian. “Now you just get to improvise your way through a panel about how excited you are to be working with her.”

“I don’t even know who she is!” Lando finally barks, his scent turning a bit panicked. It’s like a thunderstorm and a hot, dry heat, smelling how burnt food tastes.

“Mate, you’re fucking kidding me—,” Oscar starts, only to be interrupted by a polite cough behind Lando. 

“She is right behind you, Mr. Norris,” The voice is monotone. Icy. Damn near robotic. And he knows it immediately because you’re the current star of most engineering circles around the grid and the damn talk of every single person they’d interviewed to replace Will when it became clear Lando needed a change. You’d managed to pull decency and consistent points into Williams of all teams. It baffles him, honestly. How you’d managed that, he has no idea, but he assumes it’s through pure spite and fury.

You’re styled elegantly, with a tailored set of pleated, pale gray slacks and a cozy-looking, chunky knit black sweater, tucked into the top of your pants. Black dress shoes. Somehow, the slacks don’t even look bulky, cinching high on your waist, and it’s flattering how slimming the entire outfit is, despite all the known laws of fashion saying that this shouldn’t be such a flattering look. The neck of the sweater is in a mock style, clearly giving the statement of a private individual, hiding any possible claiming bonds. Your hair is in a perfectly messy but neat braid down your back, with two long pieces pulled from the top to slightly frame your face. 

So plain. But elegant.

Everything about you sets Lando off a bit. And he doesn’t know why. But you just tilt your head at him. As if he’s some puzzle for you to fix. It doesn’t help that he can’t get even a trace of your scent. Only the sterile odor that came with cleaning supplies and medicine. Almost like you’re on heavy medications or that you sleep in a hospital. It unnerves him. Lando’s heard a few rumors that you’re an alpha, and that you simply want to smell that way so as to not be assigned a certain stereotype or intimidate anyone.

After all, word on the grid was you left Williams because of how they’d handled the situation between the other race engineer and the anonymous omega colleague who’d been assaulted. 

So you at least had morals. 

“Oscar had mentioned you were…. A bit lax.” You murmur, icy eyes flicking up and down his form, your tone impassive and your stance closed off. “I hadn’t imagined you would be this bad, though.” 

“I’m actually quite good, normally.” 

“About checking your email and phone? Or should I put a tracker on you?” 

“Hilarious.” 

“I’m aware I am.” You say so dryly, so bluntly, that Lando feels one of his eyes twitch as a stylist manages to help pull him together to look somewhat presentable using the wardrobes saved. You just talk softly with Oscar the entire time, a fond look in your eyes as you talk to the Omega driver. 

Right. Logan. Oscar. You’d been Logan’s engineer before. You’d probably gotten to know Oscar through that. When Lando’s finally presentable enough, the stylist makes a final adjustment to your outfit by quickly weaving an orange ribbon around the end of your braid. 

“...I will not be wearing this when I am working,” you examine the ribbon, frowning. “You’re lucky to have me in this now.”

“What, don’t like papaya?”

“No. Red is better.” You just murmur, still frowning at the ribbon, before letting it go. “Vati won in red. All three times.”

“Well, change is inevitable,” Lando fakes a sigh, and this makes you scowl. “I like the orange better, anyway.”

“You’ve yet to win, anyway,” You dismiss his comment with a simple wave of your hand, and go to follow Zak out onto the stage, leaving Lando a bit baffled. Oscar just snickers, patting him on the back and leaving the Brit scrambling to follow the both of you. 

The press conference goes immaculately. You’re the darling of the media, who seem to love how dry you are with every single answer. Just like Niki had been, even when you border on insulting most of the journalists asking the question. You look about ready to choke yourself with the wire of the microphone in front of you when someone asks you your opinion on Rush. 

“She thinks McLaren looked better in red,” Lando grins, looking at you with a mischievous grin. 

“McLaren had more wins in red.” You say bluntly, causing laughter to erupt. Lando’s ears turn pink. “We shall see if that is to change.”

He’s quiet for the rest of the press conference, until…

“Any statement on why you left Williams?”

You go rigid. Just for a second. And from where you sit beside him, Lando catches just the tiniest scent of anxiety on you, under all the sterile, medicinal odor that permeates the air around you. 

“....I thought that was obvious,” You mumble into the mic, before clearing your throat. “I, ah, don’t take kindly to anyone— especially someone who was considered my partner— trying to take advantage of someone. So.” 

There’s a tremor to your voice, barely detectable. And under the table, you’re squeezing your knee. Your hand shakes as the question repeats in your mind. Any statement on why you left Williams? The crowd is suddenly not safe. As he looks at you from every face, every set of eyes now staring at you, even when you know he’s not there. There’d been heightened security, Andrea and Zak had promised that. Oscar was here, already with a nest in his private suite at the factory, prepared for you to crash in when the press conference was over. You try to speak, to play the part of the stoic Alpha the grid has assigned to you, but your tongue is dry in your mouth. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see movement in the back of the crowd. Your hindbrain croons, and you feel yourself fighting off the urge to turn canine, to simply burst from the stage and run towards where you know is safe. He’s not there, Zak promised. He will never be anywhere near you again. 

You’re safe, you’re safe, you’re safe—

“What a stupid fucking question,” Lando blurts out, a snarl in his voice. “It’s obvious why she left. She has morals and doesn’t tolerate that kind of shit. Ask a proper question or fuck off,” 

Zak calls an end to the press conference quickly after, and you make your way off stage quickly, retching into a trashcan the moment you’re hidden from the cameras and watching eyes. Oscar is beside you, stroking your back, trying to comfort you, as he had that first night, curled beside you in your own nest while Logan sits on guard at the entrance to the room. Making sure that he won’t be there to find you. Even when he is being held by the FIA and local authorities for investigation, and Niki is already on a private jet to make sure you’re okay. You’re not in the hotel room in the UAE, you’re in Woking. 

“Fucking stupid twats,” Lando spits, as he walks off stage, and nearly misses the fact that you’re puking. It’s almost comical how he does a double take, and scrambles over to you. “Shit, are you good?”

“No,” you say dryly, head still in the trash can. “But— thank you, for your defense.” 

“Yeah— I— I’m assuming you knew, the omega. The one affected, I mean.” Lando babbles, and it dawns on you briefly that Lando doesn’t know. 

The only people who do know are just Zak and Andrea— it’d been a big part of the negotiations around you being hired— and of course, Oscar, who you’d called the first night after presenting. You’re partially thankful for that, because then it means that even fewer know your designation. He really hadn’t checked any of his emails. 

“You could say that.” You mumble, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Oscar’s partially frozen, until he just continues to comfort you, wordlessly understanding that you don’t want to tell Lando. “We— we were close.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry. Please pass the message on that what they experienced— fuck, man, it’s fucking inexcusable—” Lando runs a hand through his curls, clearly stressed by the entire incident that had just happened at the press conference. So you keep your mouth shut, and clap him on the shoulder. Trying to act like the Beta or Alpha he thinks you are. 

“Enough about that. They’re— they got rewarded enough money to retire. They’re doing fine. Good therapist. Good house. Service dog to keep them safe.”

Your voice sounds so empty, but it’s not a lie. You’d been given enough money to quit nearly three times over. And you’d used it to start the search for a service dog that could help you with deep pressure therapy and watch your back in the garage. You’d needed a new one anyway, after your old dog had to be retired around a year ago. You’d needed one, doctor’s orders, to help you with you nearly-destroyed sense of smell, and the fact that you’re now deaf in one ear. 

“That’s—that’s good, at least,” Lando mumbles, but he doesn’t look convinced. 

An awkward silence stretches between you and the driver for what feels like hours, but is likely only seconds. He’s unconvinced. You know it. Oscar knows it. But frankly, Lando seemed to understand that questioning you right now is the least of his concerns. 

“What about a tour of the factory?” Oscar buts in, killing the silence just when you feel like you have to say something. Always the peacekeeper. Always the savior. “It could— could give you time to get to know each other.”

“No time for that, unfortunately,” Zak interrupts softly, uncharacteristic of his normal behavior. He refrains from touching you at all. Which you can’t help but be thankful for— already so different from Williams, and the disconnected behavior of the board. 

Had he heard the conversation? Did he understand what you were trying to pass off to Lando, at least for the time being? A glance in his direction as you brush yourself off reveals nothing. 

“Time for… a quick meeting. Just to get to know everyone better.” 

“I want to be there,” Oscar looks at the CEO, just as Andrea rejoins the group, looking a bit exhausted, after dealing with what would likely be a bit of a PR issue. 

“You were going to anyway.” Andrea sighs, rubbing his temple. “Shall we?” And you're whisked into a spacious conference room, decorated with the portraits of champions and drivers all around you.

McLaren is…. Interesting. Leagues different from Williams, as you’ve come to realize. It seems that every step further into the orange-hued team leads you further to this conclusion. It’s mostly discussions of the next month’s schedule, as it heads into the new year of testing before the season starts. You look at the calendar, making notes varying from calling Lando to be sure he’s awake at least two hours before anything starts, to avoid any issue like today happening, to then buying a mini fridge for your office to keep your food. 

“And about this morning,” Lando says bashfully, smiling at you in a way that shows he’s used to getting away with things like that, “Won’t happen again. My phone was dead, and—”

“Correct, it won’t happen again.” You say bluntly, and look at him over your laptop, before closing it. Inadvertently, your claws come out, and you start to pick at the edge of the table. An old nervous tick you've never gotten rid of. “It was unacceptable, and shows a severe lack of discipline on your part.” 

The table goes silent. Oscar is clearly trying not to laugh. Andrea and Zak look surprised by your chilly tone. 

“I mean, I suppose,” Lando says, frowning a bit at how blunt you are. 

“There is no ‘I suppose’, there is the truth.” You lean forward over the table to look at him. “Do you want to be a world champion, Lando Norris?”

“Of course I do!”

“Then start acting like it. You’re not the youngest on the grid anymore.” Your claw scratches against the edge of the table again, leaving a faint mark. “I’ll talk to your trainer after this. You’re going to do extra conditioning for every tardy arrival to a meeting, practice, whatever, starting with this morning.”

“That seems a bit much,” Andrea starts, but Zak lets out a low whistle. Almost impressed. 

“You’re treating him like a football coach would.”

“I’m treating him as he should be. He is an athlete. He represents a team. Such actions can reflect poorly.”

“It was one time!” Lando protests.

“Was it?” You challenge, raising an eyebrow. Lando has to stop himself from growling, reminding himself he must be civil. “Was it just a one-time occurrence last season, Andrea?”

Lando bites his lower lip. You’re much stricter than Will had ever been. Andrea just holds up his hands, looking back at him with an apologetic gaze while you prompt him to answer. 

“I admit… things have been a bit relaxed as of late,” The team principal scratches the back of his head, and you make a little tutting noise, before turning to look at Lando again. 

“Then we’re fixing it.” 

A long pause settles. And you start again.

“I do have… issues, with the way you run things here,” you scratch your claw into the wood of the table, a low rumble in your throat. The scent blockers you have on are distracting to Lando. He wonders, briefly, what your scent is like when it’s not so medicinal. “You need more discipline. Less media. It makes you seem… soft.”

“Soft?” Lando leans forward, tilting his head. You look back at him with your constantly blank stare, a slight frown on your lips, and icy eyes that challenge even the famous death stare of your sire. “What do you mean?”

You hesitate, looking to Zak and Andrea, who both gesture for you to continue. You then look at Oscar, who bites his lip and makes eye contact with you, and shrugs softly, as if permitting you to say what you were going to say.

“....you will take offense to what I’m about to say, I’m warning you.”

“Please, I’ll be fine,” Lando waves it off, grinning lazily. His nose twitches. The medicinal smell of your scent blockers is getting to him. Do you truly need to cover your scent that much? Are you worried that he’ll act aggressively because you’re also an Alpha?

“.... no. You won’t. I’ve seen your interviews.” You say dryly, and fold your arms. Lando balks. 

“I beg you pardon?”

“You don’t take criticism well.”

“I take it just fine!” Lando shoots back, feeling himself starting to get frustrated. Why did you have to wear them? Even if you are an Alpha, the medication provided by the FIA should be more than enough to keep anyone’s tempers from flaring.

“Then you won’t throw a hissyfit when I list out all my problems with the way you work?” 

Your tone is icy. Even. Perfectly calculated. 

“Oh, you know I want to hear about your issues with me,” Lando slams his hands down onto the table, and you just raise an eyebrow at him. He’s down to his undershirt, his fireproofs hanging at his waist as you stare at him. “So say it! Don’t hold back!”

Andrea just massages his temples as Zak looks like he wants to be anywhere else. 

“Only if you don’t throw a tantrum when I’m right.” You state, examining your nails from where you sit, as though this is boring for you. Monotonous and icily calm. 

Lando hates your voice. Specifically how robotic and monotone it sounds. What little he knows about you— which is as much as the rest of the world, with how private the Lauda family is— is that you apparently have some vocal chord and brain damage. Nothing substantial enough to impede your thought process or speaking to make you mute, but enough to have caused the monotonous way you speak. A small enough problem that Lando doesn’t feel like a total dick for what he’s about to say.

“Oh, just fucking say it, you robotic bitch!”

That gets your attention. You pause, slowly bring your hand down, and look at him. With that classic, terrifying Lauda glare. Your eyes pierce his soul, and for a second, just a second, Lando considers apologizing. Tucking his tail between his legs, his ears folded back. But then, he remembers who he is, and he meets your glare with his own, lips drawn back to bare his teeth. 

“Fine then.”

You push yourself up easily, and stand, looking down at him. 

“Firstly, you are incredibly arrogant. You take risks without properly considering the chances of failure. Whenever you do inevitably end up in a lower place than your high-and-mighty ass thinks you deserve, you then take it out on everyone but yourself, when it’s solely your own decisions getting you there.”

You take a deep breath in, and he can hear the rattle of it in your throat as you start to walk around the table towards him as if you’re stalking your prey. Glaring all the while. Eyes glowing in the light. Andrea has his head in his hands behind you.

“Furthermore, you’ve yet to win a single race. Just one. You are not a world champion because you’re a fan favorite and show extreme promise. Everyone is here because they showed promise at one point or another. You’re a brat of a driver with an ego boosted by all of the people who want to get into your pants and the fact that these fuckers,” You snarl when you whip your hand out to point to Zak and Andrea, who at least have the decency to look a bit ashamed, “…don’t discipline you enough.”

And then you stop, and pull him up by the collar so fast that he gets whiplash, looking you right in your eyes, and can see the angry, mottled skin of severe scarring just hidden under the concealer on your face. Zak still seems to be reeling from the comment you made about how soft they are on Lando, and the way that you’re bristling for a fight.

“Thirdly. You’re a fucking jackass who’s mad someone got called over here to stop your ass from having another hissyfit while being interviewed. I hope the food from the races this year gives you explosive diarrhea from all the spices.”

With that, you let go of his collar and storm out of the room, screaming in German the entire way out, while slamming the door behind you.

Andrea only groans, looking at Lando from between his fingers, while Zak has his head against the table. Oscar has his hands tightly threaded in his hair. But then you come storming back in, with something in your hand. Lando just barely manages to swat it out of the way, and listens to it hit the ground, sounding like an empty can.

And you throw your hands in the air. “Oh, so you can react when a Red Bull is suddenly coming at you! Now do it with the fucking car, dipshit!”

Lando feels his eye twitch once. Twice. And then he’s throwing the crinkled can right back at you, the two of you screaming at each other in two separate languages while Andrea pushes himself between you two, with Zak trying his best to mediate the situation. Oscar looks like he would rather be anywhere else than between the two of you, eyes straight to the center of the table when you’re both finally separated. His scent is sour and awkward. Lando’s smells of burnt rubber. Your teeth are still bared, scent hidden. And that somehow makes Lando angrier.

“Never insult my voice again,” You hiss at Lando, eyes burning as the Brit sits in the chair while you stay standing. Oscar is holding tightly to his shoulder, the omega’s fingers digging into his skin. “I’ll gut you like a fucking fish if you do.” 

The faintest trace of an American accent makes Lando’s head spin, as he watches you leave, stalking out of the room. And Zak looks at Lando, jaw hanging loose. “Uh. I think… I think we need a five-minute break.” Zak mumbles, looking a bit disturbed, before leaving to go talk to you. Lando just stands there, feeling his anger fade as Oscar slowly approaches him. Andrea has gone after Zak.

"Mate," The omega's voice trembles, with shock or rage, he isn't entirely sure which one, "What the fuck?"

tags: @the-holy-trinity-l @laura-naruto-fan1998 @amalialeclerc @st0rmzi3

[marble-anime]

Really, love, it’s fine

Pairing: Sanemi Shinazugawa x Reader, Giyuu Tomioka x Reader

Summary: Sanemi becomes jealous of your developing friendship with Giyuu. Not wanting to have to choose between them, you suggest that they 'kiss and make up'.

Disclaimer: Minors DNI, Unedited

Warnings: smut, angst, feelings, mentions of violence, jealous Sanemi, threesome, blowjob, unprotected sex, creampie

Word Count: 6.9k

Sanemi fastened his belt as he stepped out of the storage closet with you stumbling after him, adjusting your clothes so you didn’t look like a disheveled mess. The scent of sex trailed after the two of you, as per usual. You followed him outside to the training grounds. Vast land that stretched out further that you could see with healthy green grass and strong trees. The faraway mountains were covered with fluffy clouds as the warm sun caked the scenery in an orange hue.

The Hashira had all taken the day to train together. Using their own breathing styles and picking up different tips and tricks from the others. Adapting their fighting techniques and improving their swordsmanship. This was your first time seeing Sanemi again after you’d both come back from different missions. So naturally, you two snuck off for a moment to yourselves, just as you’d done many times before at the Hashira meetings.

But now it was time to get back to training. With most of the other Pillars already having sparring partners, you looped your arms around Sanemi’s. “Let’s train together ‘Nemi.”

He watched you latch onto him with a smug smile. “What, are you completely hopeless without me?” His words were laced with arousal, the feeling of you needing him turned him on like nothing else. “Is that what it is?”

“You wish,” you said, not thinking much of the joke until you spotted Obanai and Mitsuri making their way over to you. You tightened your grip on Sanemi’s arm, the action only furthering to stroke his ego.

“Clingy, clingy,” he sang.

“I am not,” you blushed, embarrassed to be having this conversation in front of your friends.

“You sure?” Obanai asked, of course siding with his best friend, “You always attach yourself to him. Following him around like a puppy.”

Like you’re one to talk, you thought, always fawning over Mitsuri. You fought the urge to correct him and tell him that half the time it was Sanemi who was dragging you away for a moment of bliss. If you were needy then so was he. You stared straight ahead of you, looking at nothing in particular, because you knew that if you looked up at Sanemi you’d want to slap that stupid smirk off his face.

“Iguro, don’t tease her,” Mitsuri whined.

At least someone was on your side.

“It’s adorable how much she likes him!”

You could’ve died from embarrassment but you couldn’t be mad. You knew she meant well. She’d always indulged you, letting you gush over the guy you liked while she shared what she found attractive about him. Almost everyone in the demon slayer corps was terrified of the Wind Pillar, it felt nice to have a friend who didn’t judge you for sleeping with him. Mitsuri was the only one who really understood how you felt about him.

Sanemi barked a laugh at her words and let go of his arm, taking a step back to address both him and Obanai.

“Alright, you know what, you two?” The two boys said nothing, their tantalizing stares daring her to do something. They clearly weren’t taking her seriously. “I’m gonna go hang out with Giyuu instead of you assholes.”

Sanemi snorted as you turned your back to them, his eyes hungerly taking in your figure as you walked away.

“Good luck,” Obanai teased.

Mitsuri clapped her hands, thinking that her snake of a crush was being genuine, and also called out to you, wishing you good luck while you approached the Water Hashira. He was in a one-sided conversation with Shinobu, she was chastising and teasing him as usual while he responded in one word answers. You tapped the Butterfly Pillars shoulder and asked if you could steal Giyuu away for a training session.

She didn’t reply right away, truthfully you’d caught both of them off guard. Although you were pretty friendly, they were shocked that you’d want to spend your time with Giyuu of all people. After all, most of your time was occupied by Sanemi who hated his guts. “Sure,” she smiled. Maybe this would be good for him. “Maybe you’ll finally make a new friend, Tomioka.”

“I have friends,” he insisted, but she had already left.

“Hi, Giyuu,” you greeted him politely.

“Hi,” was all he said, his expression blank.

Oh god, your face heated up, this was already embarrassing. Maybe you should’ve just left him alone. Even some of the nicer Pillars had trouble befriending him as he didn’t put much effort into socializing. You mentally sighed trying to think of a conversation starter. “I like your haori.”

“Thanks.”

He wasn’t making this easy but you were determined. “Do the mismatched patterns have a meaning or is it just a style choice?”

He stared at you for a moment and you feared that you’d offended him in some way until he spoke, “The red half is for my sister and the other is for a close friend.”

“Cool, are they demon slayers too?” you asked, relieved that this conversation was going somewhere even though it was still a little awkward. But when he broke eye contact, hanging his head low, your relief was drowned by sadness for him.

“Oh.” It wasn’t hard to tell what had become of them, there wasn't a member in the demon slayer corps who hadn’t at least lost someone. For most it was used as a motivator to rid the world of demons and keep others from suffering the way they did, but that didn’t make it any less painful. Honestly, it was a pretty heavy topic to start off a friendship with but you supposed a lot of demon slayers had built relationships through trauma bonds. You tried to offer him some type of comfort, “I think it’s kind that you want to honor them. I’m sure they were lovely people.”

“They were.” A soft smile graced his features, hearing someone speak of his loved ones so kindly filled him with warmth as he reminisced on the good times he had with them.

His reaction encouraged you to keep the conversation going, with a smile of your own you suggested, “Maybe you could tell me about them while we train?”

Sanemi had been watching from afar with an amused gaze as you struggled to interact with the Hashira’s most antisocial Pillar. Your face was flushed and you sheepishly fiddled with your hands while he was giving you absolutely nothing. Had he not found the whole situation amusing he probably would’ve picked a fight with the guy for making you feel uncomfortable. You really couldn’t do anything with him, could you?

His enjoyment died down, an uneasy feeling settling in his stomach at the rare sight of the Water Pillars smile. He was smiling because of you. You were probably the friendliest of all the pillars, he figured, if anyone could get through to him it would be you. He was trying to talk some sense to himself so he could shake this unpleasant feeling.

It wasn’t long before you both got into a fighting stance, ready to begin training. This calmed him down. He didn’t know why he was getting so worked up, it was only a training session nothing more. Plus, it was one interaction, after today you two would probably go back to barely speaking. He focused on Obanai who stood across from him on the defensive, distracting himself as he prepared for some training of his own. Had he known of the connection that would stem from your conversation with Giyuu, he would’ve marched over there and ended it before it had begun.

When he’d been called to the next Hashira meeting, anxiety flared up in the pit of the Wind Pillars stomach. He kicked rocks as he made his way to the Ubuyashiki Estate, trying to ignore the stirring in his gut. He dug his fingernails into his palms to keep them from shaking as the Mansion came into view. He rounded the corner and you were in front of him in an instant. You greeted him and asked how he’d been since the last Pillar meeting. 

His emotions settled. Of course everything would be the same, why wouldn’t it? He wrapped an arm around you, his possessive grip nearly had you in a chokehold. You didn't mind, nuzzling your head into his chest, you relished in the affection. His hand trailed down your body to give your ass a rough squeeze as he whispered in your ear, “We’ve still got about twenty minutes before the meeting starts. I think I could make you feel good and have you back here in fifteen, whaddaya say?”

You ended up sneaking away so Sanemi could have a snack between your thighs. He was right, you two made it back to the others before the meeting could begin and all was well. Until you slipped from his grasp so you could talk to Giyuu. But your conversation was cut short when Sanemi’s arms snaked around you like a cage as he practically dragged you away.

Ever since then the Hashira meetings had been hell for Sanemi. For a while, he’d been able to keep you away from Tomioka. But then you made time to hang out with him until Sanemi showed up. And after that when he made it a point to show up to the estate before the both of you, you’d always find a way to slip out of his hold so you could socialize with Giyuu. What really grinded his gears was how you and your new ‘friend’ would know things about each other that you hadn’t disguised in previous meetings, which meant that you two had to be sending each other letters.

Sanemi hated every second of it. He was fine with you being friends with the other Pillars, sure. But the chemistry you seemed to have with the Water Pillar left a sour taste in his mouth. He felt like he was going crazy. What could that loser possibly give you that he couldn’t? Technically you two weren’t officially a couple, but you were close enough weren’t you? Sanemi hadn’t entertained anyone but you. Maybe none of this would be happening if he would’ve just trained with you that day.

The final nail in the coffin was when the Kamado siblings had been detained and brought to the Ubuyashiki Estate. Rage bubbled up inside him at the thought of one of the demon slayer corp’s very own stabbing them in the back to protect a monster. To Sanemi, the Kamado boy may as well have spit in the face of all the souls who’d been unfortunate enough to lose someone to a demon. His anger boiled over the top when he saw you with that pathetic water hashira once again.

You begged and pleaded for him to stop but you’d only worsened his mood. He hated the way you looked at him like he was the monster for simply carrying out his duty as a demon slayer. He stared down at Nezuko as blood gushed from her shoulder where he’d stabbed her. Her eyes bore into his with a fury that mirrored his own. She was nothing more than a man eating beast hidden behind the appearance of a little girl, why couldn’t you see that? Even with the ringing in his ears he could hear your voice as clear as day, begging Giyuu to do something, to stop him. The sound of your panicked voice seeking the comfort of another man ate away at him.

Her mouth watered, drool dripping down her chin as the scents of Sanemi’s marechi blood flooded her senses. The hunger would consume her and she would attack him, he was sure of it and he’d prove it to the other hashira, to master Ubuyashiki, to you. He did everything he could to provoke her and yet she still refused to harm him.

When Ubuyashiki finally put a stop to his cruel behavior, allowing Tanjiro to keep his position in the Demon Slayer Corps as well as continue protecting his sister, he’d also reprimanded Sanemi for tormenting the two. He internally cringed at his master's words but he obeyed nonetheless. Not once did he pick his head up as he kneeled to show his respect, too afraid of seeing whatever emotion your face displayed. He could guess that it was something along the lines of disgust, disappointment, anger, if he was unfortunate enough, maybe even regret.

He was able to avoid the disdain filled gaze that he was sure he’d see if his eyes met yours, only raising his head once the meeting was over and the Pillars were dismissed. When he finally gathered the courage to look up, you were already gone, having been one of the first Hashira to make your departure from the Estate. He wasn’t sure if he should consider himself lucky for not having to face your confrontation or unfortunate for not being able to explain himself. However, he’d get his answer before he even stepped foot out of the Ubuyashiki property, whether he liked it or not.

The thought of you and the possible damage he’d just done to your relationship plagued his mind as he walked along the gravel trail that led to the Estate’s entrance gate, the Manor slowly fading in the distance behind him. He froze in his tracks when he saw you, he thought you were long gone by now, but no, you were still here on the Estate’s grounds with him.

Seeing you with Tomioka lit an envious fire inside him, the hand that was placed on your arm as a means to comfort you only fueling the green flames. If Sanemi had been thinking right then maybe he would’ve realized that the scene in front of him was nothing like he thought. After all, Giyuu was the one who spared the Kamado siblings so of course you’d ask him questions to be able to grasp what exactly had happened at the meeting. That was all it was, no romance involved. But right now Sanemi was beyond reason, assuming the worst.

“What the hell is going on here?” He growled, effectively ceasing your conversation and gaining your attention. All it took was one look at him, his wide eyes and clenched fist, for you to know that he was fuming. Although you didn’t know what caused this reaction and had been blissfully unaware of the inner turmoil he’s had for months, you figured it would be best to end the fighting before it had begun. You pulled your arm from Giyuu’s hold and cautiously approached your lover, “Sanemi-”

He pushed past you and grabbed the Water Pillar by his haori, “Who the hell do you think you are?!”

Giyuu said nothing, allowing Sanemi to thrash him around while you tightly wrapped your arms around his bicep, trying to pull him away from your friend without getting in between the two men. His lack of a response only angered Sanemi who began to yell threats in his face, you’d hoped that master Ubuyashiki was too far away to hear his harsh words. His aggression towards the stone-faced hashira finally dwindled when he heard your voice break. As his head snapped towards you he saw the tears brimming along the rims of your eyes.

Taking advantage of his stunned state, Giyuu pulled himself from Sanemi’s grasp and turned away from you two to continue walking down the path. You tried to stop him from leaving, wanting to resolve whatever was going on between them so that there wouldn’t be any tension between your two closest friends. Sanemi watched your interaction with a twinge of guilt, he hadn’t meant to upset you. Was this his fault? Was he scaring you away? Was this why you liked Tomioka so much? Because he was calm and collected unlike Sanemi who had a tendency to fly off the handle at the smallest things? Doubts flooded his mind as Giyuu’s hands gently squeezed your own in reassurance. His heart ached hearing you beg him to stay. The Water Pillar was the most composed out of the three of you, insisting that whatever conversation you and Sanemi needed to have would only be made worse with his presence.

With that he took his leave, giving the two of you space to talk. Neither of you said anything at first, the only sounds that could be heard were your sniffing and the chirping of birds. The tension in the air was thick, the sun beaming down on you while leaves fluttered down to the ground. Ironically, it was an awfully nice day for such a sad scene. Sanemi was the first to break the silence, “Do you love him?”

“What?” You asked in disbelief, your bloodshot eyes widening as you stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out if he was serious or if this was just some sick joke. “It’s not like that with him.” While he stayed silent, you went over everything in your mind. You thought about the animosity Sanemi had always held for the other man, to the point where Sanemi’s mind had conjured up a one sided rivalry between the two, which had only worsened with the growth of your friendship with him. For the first time since you’d asked Giyuu to train with you, you realized that he was jealous. You couldn’t understand why though, he never minded your friendships with the other Pillars. Nonetheless, you tried to quell his insecurities by adding, “We’ve never done anything together, if that’s what you're worried about.”

“That's not what I asked.” He let out an exasperated sigh and clenched his jaw, trying to prepare himself for whatever your answer would be. He held your face in his hands as he asked in a calm, gentle, tone that contradicted the whirlwind of emotions inside him, “Do you have feelings for him, even if it’s just a little?”

Your lips parted, there was so much you wanted to say but the words just wouldn’t leave your throat. You couldn’t blame him for being skeptical, looking at it from his perspective, your friendship with Giyuu kinda came out of the blue and grew rapidly. You wanted to give him the context behind it all, that the two of you bonded over him. You wanted to tell him about the letters you two exchanged which consisted of you giving Giyuu advice on what kinds of things Sanemi liked and his retelling of every attempt he made to connect with the other man ending in failure and a fuming Sanemi Shinazugawa. The truth was that the Water Pillar simply wanted to be his friend but wasn’t sure how to engage with him. Explaining all of this might’ve eased your lover’s mind and may have even embarrassed him a tiny bit. But what had stunned you into silence was the last part of his sentence, even if it’s just a little.

You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when the contents of your letters shifted from the subject of Sanemi to yourselves. You both shared what you liked and disliked, your favorite foods, your hobbies, your dreams and fears. The two of you got to know the ins and outs of each other and blossomed a deep respect and admiration for one another. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t giddy each time you received a letter from him. Maybe Sanemi’s fears were correct, maybe you did harbor some feelings for the other man.

At your lack of a response, he ripped himself away as if you had burned him. He brought his hands to his face, his fingers harshly rubbing his eyelids and pinching the bridge of his nose as he processed that his worst nightmare was coming to life. All he could think was, why? Why was this happening? Why did you have to catch feelings for that stupid Water Hashira? Was there anything he could’ve done to prevent it? The tips of his fingers pulled at his skin as he slowly slid his hands down his face, he felt like he was losing his mind. He tried to contain his anger, he didn’t want to yell at you and potentially drive you further into that bastard's arms but he could help the aggression that seeped into his voice as he asked, “More than me?”

“No,” you denied immediately, whatever you may have felt for Giyuu paled in comparison to your love for Sanemi, “Of course not.”

“I-,” He didn’t even know what to say to that. He thought he’d be relieved that your feelings were stronger for him than they ever would be for that parasite but knowing that he shared your heart with another, even if it was only 0.01%, filled him with rage and jealousy. As his calm facade began to crack, he determined that it would be best to end the conversation now. He needed to clear his head. “I’m gonna go.”

“Sanemi-,” you took a step toward him but froze when he held up a hand, urging you to stay back.

“I need to think,” he was already walking away from you as he added, “We’ll talk later.”

You watched him disappear from your sight before you made your way down the path, headed for your own estate. It was for the best, you convinced yourself, you needed time to think things over as well. Of course if given the choice between the two men, you’d choose Sanemi without a doubt. And you were sure Giyuu felt similarly, he wouldn’t want to give the Wind Pillar another reason to hate him. If your friendship truly had to be severed for the sake of your relationship with Sanemi then so be it.

But you didn’t want it to come to that if there was another way to fix this mess. Giyuu had become one of your closest confidants, someone who you could rely on, someone who understood and didn’t judge you. Cutting ties with him would be your last resort if all else failed. You wondered how you could close the rift between them, if you could at all.

A week later, your crow was sent to the Wind Estate requesting for Sanemi’s presence. He contemplated ignoring it but he knew he couldn’t run away from his problems forever. Your words played over and over again in his head like a broken record. He’d talked himself into thinking that in your mind he came before the Water Hashira, that you’d choose him over that loser any day. But now as he made his way to your estate, he wasn’t so sure of himself. He worried that this meeting would end the same way the last confrontation did, with you confirming his biggest fears.

As he walked through the entrance gate, he saw you standing in the doorway of your manor waiting for him. His shoes dragged along the gravel trail as he slowly made his way toward you, clearly stalling. When he finally stopped in front of you, you politely greeted him. He just stood there for a moment, taking in your appearance. Your hair was pulled back, showing off your flushed face, the sunset casted a pink glow over you and enhanced your blush as you stared up at him with those stupid lovesick eyes that always made him weak in the knees.

Fuck it. His rough hands slid under your shirt, grabbing the soft skin along your waist and pulled you into him. Before either of you knew it, his lips were on yours in a heated kiss. He’d folded instantly, he knew he shouldn't have but it felt as if he was having withdrawals. You two had spent far longer than just a week apart when you were both sent on missions. But all of the anxiety he had over losing you made the week feel like a year with each hour passing by painfully slow. If his resolve wasn’t already snapped in half, it was absolutely destroyed when your sweet voice spoke four words, “Come to the bedroom.”

As you led him to your room, the two of you had passed by multiple servants and trainees. None of them so much as batted an eye at the Wind Pillar as they were all accustomed to his nightly visits. This gave him a feeling of superiority, knowing that he was such a familiar presence in your life that others were used to seeing you two together. Had Giyuu been the one you were taking to bed instead of him, he was sure they’d all look at you like you had two heads. Tonight he’d worship you, prove to you that he was the better man and he’d make sure that you screamed his name loud enough so that everyone else would know that you belonged to him.

You stopped outside of your bedroom door, turning your head to look down each end of the hall to make sure no one was coming and grabbed Sanemi by his collar, pulling him down to meet your lips once again. Without breaking the kiss, you slid the door open and backed into the room, dragging your lover with you as he shut the door behind him. His hands roamed up and down your body, groping you in all your soft spots as his mouth devoured your own.

Something's off, his conscious whispered. He tried to ignore it and focus on you, thinking about what he was going to do to give you the best night of your life. But his thoughts kept getting derailed as he became increasingly more aware of his surroundings. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, it almost felt as if there was another presence in the room. Although he knew that he was probably being paranoid, his eyes fluttered open. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw a figure behind you.

His back hit the door as he ripped himself from your grasp. His momentary fear was replaced by anger as he saw the source of his misery sitting quietly at the end of your bed. Sanemi’s eye twitched, that freak had just sat there and watched you two touch each other like a pervert.

Just as he was about to tell that damn Water Pillar off, you took his face between your hands and directed his attention back to you. “Just hear me out, okay?”

Realizing that you’d orchestrated, whatever the hell this was, brought back that sinking feeling in his stomach, like you were slipping through his fingers and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. Through gritted teeth he asked, “What the hell is he doing here?”

You took a deep breath, you anticipated this kind of reaction but it didn’t make you feel any less nervous. “Here's the deal,” you began, “If you want him to leave then he’ll go. And I’ll stay away from him if that’s what you want.” You paused, not sure how he’d take what you were about to say next. “But I wanna try to fix this if I can. I care a lot about both of you.”

You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, his expression hadn’t changed and he didn’t say anything. You rested your head on his chest, your hands trailed down his arm to hold his hand. “It’s up to you though. Our relationship is my first priority so we won't do anything you're uncomfortable with.”

His breath hitched at your next words, “I love you.”

The tips of his ears heated up and his heart thumped rapidly, it was the first time you’d ever said that to him. He looked at Giyuu, his idiotic face held no emotion as always. Regardless he found himself wishing that the other man was dying on the inside knowing that your declaration of love wasn’t directed at him.

“Say it again,” he demanded.

All three of you knew what he was doing, trying to rub salt into the wound. It was cruel but you were determined to show him that he was the one you cared most about. You’d give up just about anything if it meant you got to keep him. So you repeated it once more, “I love you, Sanemi.”

He held eye contact with Giyuu as you spoke. If what you said had upset the Water Pillar, he was doing a good job of hiding it. Resentment flared inside Sanemi at his lack of a reaction, was this all a joke to him? His knuckles cracked as he clenched his fists. He’d show that bastard, he thought, he’d show him who you cried out for, who you craved, who you loved.

He looked back to you, giving your ass a rough squeeze as he ordered, “Get your clothes off and get on the bed.”

You eagerly followed his command with excitement rushing through your veins as Sanemi shrugged off his own clothes before he noticed Giyuu still sitting on the bed watching you two underess. “That means you too, idiot!”

You were sandwiched between the two boys as they kissed and sucked each side of your neck. Precum leaked through Giyuu’s boxers, his clothed cock rubbing against the curve of your ass. Meanwhile, Sanemi’s erection stood proudly between your stomachs, twitching at the friction your embrace provided.

The left side of your neck and collarbone were littered in an absurd amount of purple hickeys. The artist behind the work was none other than Sanemi himself who was determined to prove himself more worthy of your love than the leech behind you. Your right side had considerably less love bites and, in contrast to the intense mares on your left, they were a soft shade of red. You figured Giyuu might’ve been inexperienced by the way he tried to copy whatever Sanemi did, occasionally causing their hands to bump into each other to which Sanemi would slap the other man's hand away and continue to grasp your plush skin.

You gasped as your lover’s teeth dug into your shoulder, earning you a much gentler bite on your other shoulder. Your fingers gripped his jaw, carefully prying his mouth from your flesh. He was captivated by you, the blush adorning your face spread from ear to ear, your lips parted as you let out pleasured pants that caused your bare chest to heave. He was hypnotized by your lidded eyes, the trance you had him under only breaking when you tilted your head to the side. Over your shoulder he saw that you held Giyuu’s jaw in your other hand. With both of their faces in your grasp, you guided them toward each other.

Sanemi’s hand shot out to grab your wrist, stopping your movement but not forcing you to let go entirely. “What are you doing?”

You shrugged, your voice a mix between sultry and breathy as you playfully teased, “I just thought you guys should kiss and makeup.”

You felt his grip on your arm tighten as he processed your joke. Just as you were about to assure him that he didn’t have to do it if he didn’t want to, Giyuu’s voice cut you off, “It’s just one kiss, for her.” That was the first thing since Sanemi had arrived. His eyes, an endless sea of blue, stared into his comrade’s as he tried to provoke him. “That should be simple enough for you. It’s child’s play.”

A vein popped in Sanemi’s forehead, that dumbass was trying to get back at him for flaunting your love in his face. Sanemi was partially satisfied that he had managed to bruise the other man’s ego but he didn’t appreciate the push back. “Fuck it.” Not willing to back down from Giyuu’s challenge, Sanemi grabbed the back of his neck so hard that it was sure to leave bruises and yanked him into a rough kiss.

As you slid out from between them to get a better view of the harsh display, your lover slapped a hand on Giyuu’s shoulder to make sure that he didn’t try to close the distance that separated their bodies. Your pussy pulsed and clenched around nothing as you watched the two most attractive men you knew come together, even if it was in such a mean spirited way, with clashing teeth and aggressive growls.

You ran your hands up and down your body, thoroughly enjoying the show. Honestly, Sanemi had held the kiss longer than you though he would. You wondered if he had surprised himself with how long he’d allowed this to go on. Your cunt throbbed, a fire building in the pit of your stomach at the idea that maybe he secretly liked it. Of course, even if he did, he’d probably never admit it. Your eyes traveled down his body, his cock was still painfully hard. Although the chances were slim, you wondered if you could ever convince Sanemi to let Giyuu help you pleasure him with your mouths.

As you reached out to grasp his cock, he shoved Giyuu away. His voice was laced with disdain as he insulted, “That was disgusting.” He was tempted to spit to prove his point but decided against it since you would probably tear him a new one if he went spitting on your bedroom floor.

Giyuu’s eyes shifted down to his scars, biting back, “I’m sure you’ve been through worse.”

Before Sanemi could shoot back a nasty comment, you stroked his cock to distract him while you pleaded, “Don’t fight you two.” You pressed a sweet kiss to your lover’s lips, capturing his full attention. “Thank you for doing that. It was very sweet.”

His face heated up at your praise, he tried to downplay it by saying, “Whatever, as long as you enjoyed it.”

You nuzzled your face into his chest. “I did.”

Embarrassed by the mushy feelings you were giving him, all while your hand was still slowly moving up and down his cock, he changed the subject, “How are we doing this.”

“However you feel comfortable doing it,” you answered.

He pondered it for a moment, the whole reason he’d agreed to this in the first place was because he wanted to show off how well he knew your body. To prove that he was the better man, that he was the only man who could fill your every desire, that you were made for him and him alone. Regardless of all that, he wasn’t really comfortable with the idea of Giyuu fucking you. His gaze alternated between the two of you before he decided, “He can have your mouth, I want your pussy.”

“Okay.” You sent him a soft smile in encouragement before turning your attention to Giyuu. “Why don’t you lay down.” He did as you told him to, spreading his legs to make room for you. You crawled in between his legs, propping yourself up on your forearms and sticking your ass in the air. You glanced behind you at Sanemi who was getting comfortable behind you. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah.” After getting the confirmation from Sanemi, you looked back to Giyuu who nodded to let you know that he was ready. Sanemi ran a finger between your folds, shocked to see how wet you’d gotten from his little ‘performance’, you barely needed any prep. He was slightly annoyed that seeing him kiss that idiot was what got you so soaked. “Tch.”

You leaned forward, grasping the band of Giyuu’s boxers between your teeth and slowly tugging them down until his cock sprang free, nearly hitting you in the face as it slapped against his stomach. You flinched, letting out a yelp when all of a sudden Sanemi’s hand came down on your ass. “Why don’t you ever do that for me?”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes at the question. Probably because you’re always in such a rush to fuck me that you rip off our clothes before I have the chance. You decided against answering him for the sake of keeping the peace. With your ass still stinging from Sanemi’s harsh slap, you wrapped a hand around Giyuu’s cock, bringing it to meet your mouth. Just as your lips brushed against the tip, you were yanked back by two large hands on your waist. Sanemi lined his cock up to your entrance, pretending like he hadn't done anything. You knew that he was fully aware of what he just did but if you brought it up he’d probably just deny it. With Giyuu now out of your reach, thanks to Sanemi, you suggested, “How about you fuck my face instead, Giyuu.”

Giyuu pulled his boxers off and got on his knees in front of you. This time he was the one directing his cock toward your mouth. You wrapped your lips around the tip, trying to tease him a little before taking the whole thing. Of course, it didn’t work out that way, yet again thanks to Sanemi who’d shoved his whole girth into you without warning, forcing your face further down Giyuu’s cock.

A thumb softly stroked your jaw causing you to look up at the man above you with your face still stuffed full of his cock. It was unusual to see him with such a caring expression since he was always so emotionless. “Are you okay?”

“Shut the hell up,” Sanemi groaned, the intimate tone Giyuu had used toward you was getting on his last nerve, “You're gonna make me go soft.”

Sanemi’s hips vigorously slapped against your ass, his fat cock stroking your insides at a harsh, rapid, pace. You tried to be gentle with Giyuu but the momentum of your body made you pleasure him the same way Sanemi was pleasuring you, rough and sloppy. Each snap of his hips pushed your face along Giyuu’s cock, making you fit even more in your mouth than you already were. You moaned around his cock each time Sanemi’s balls hit your clit, giving you short bursts of electric pleasure.

Sanemi ignored Giyuu’s grunts of pleasure and focused on the noises you were making. The cock in your mouth and the sound of you gagging made whatever you were saying unintelligible but he could tell that it was three syllables long. He let out a laugh. “That’s right. Sa-ne-mi.” Each syllable was followed by a harsh thrust. Even when you were face first into another man's dick you were still moaning his name.

Giyuu’s torso tensed, trying to hold in a moan as your sounds sent vibrations through his cock. His fingers tangled themselves in your hair as he buried himself to the hilt, which proved to be slightly difficult with Sanemi’s swift movement. You almost choked as he spilt his seed down your throat. You swallowed his salty cum and pulled off his softening cock with a wet ‘pop’.

Sanemi took the opportunity to steal you away from Giyuu. He pulled you to the other side of the bed and threw you on your back, wasting no time climbing on top of you and easing his cock back into your tight cunt. Now that your mouth wasn’t occupied, both of the boys could hear you loud and clear as your moans of Sanemi’s name bounced off the walls.

This is what he’d wanted all along. He wanted Giyuu to see the passion and love you two held for each other. You stared into each others eyes as he fucked into you, your souls colliding. You held him close, calling out for him and only him. He wanted Giyuu to know that he wasn’t stealing his place in your heart. No way in hell. You were his until the end of time.

“Sanemi!” Even as your eyes clouded over from the overwhelming sense of pleasure that only he could give you, you didn’t break eye contact, keeping the doorway between your souls open until Sanemi would reach his own Nirvana. Even as your body was shaking from the overstimulation, tears brimming in your eyes, you still held him close. You were soulmates and Giyuu would never replace him.

You were His.

His.

His.

His.

“Mine,” he moaned as he reached his peak, releasing inside you and staking his claim. He brushed a few stray hairs from your face, his knuckles affectionately grazing your cheekbone. “Did I make you feel good?”

“It was amazing,” you assured him, combing your fingers through his hair. He stayed on top for you for a moment, drinking in your appearance. Despite all the teasing he put you through, he truly did love you more than anything. “You are so beautiful.”

You smiled up at him, relishing in his affection. Unfortunately, your lover's embrace didn’t last long. Sanemi tensed when he felt warm liquid ropes hit his back. He slowly turned his head to look at the man responsible. His soft features morphing into his usual terrifying expression of anger.

“Sanemi-,” you tried to stop him but it was too late, he tackled the Water Hashira off the bed and was now trying to rip his head off. Too tired to break them up, you pulled the covers over your body, falling asleep to the sound of your lover and best friend trying to kill each other.

[just-jordie-things]

bad at flirting - fushiguro megumi

word count: 6.2k warnings: swearing + second hand embarrassment summary: megumi doesn't know he's bad at flirting, but his friends are happy to help him! ___

Megumi is totally, absolutely, downright terrible at flirting.  He can’t lay down a vibe to save his life.  Not once has he had the intention of flirting and actually made the person he’s flirting with realize that he’s flirting with them.  It might not be often that he’s attempted to get a girl’s phone number, but it’s never worked.

And to make matters worse, he has no clue.

His friends don’t realize just how badly he needs their help until she comes around- and even then, it’s two months of her attending Jujutsu Tech that they realize the poor boy’s been trying to flirt with her.

It’s Yuuji that spots the odd interaction first.

Megumi had been walking with her, clearly listening to whatever she was talking about that Yuuji couldn’t hear from where he was hanging out on the front steps of the main building.  But he was close enough that when Megumi noticed him, Yuuji gave him a wave and a grin.

The ravenette gives a short wave back- if you could call raising a hand for two seconds before begrudgingly shoving it back into his pocket a wave- before turning towards her again.

He says something Yuuji can’t quite hear, his hand rubbing the back of his neck, and she replies with a nod and a smile, before turning and walking off on her own.

When Megumi makes his way to Yuuji, the first thing he notices is his rosy complexion.

Yuuji doesn’t think he’s ever seen Megumi blush.  The sight makes him snort before laughing.

“What was that all about?” He asks, half teasing as he stands up.

“What do you mean?” Megumi replies, almost dumbly.

“You’re blushing!” Yuuji cackles loudly.  “She must've said something” 

“Not really,” Megumi shrugs.  “Just happens when I flirt” He adds in a mumble.

Yuuji’s entire world shatters around him.  His laughter ceases, his jaw drops, and he’s staring blankly at his friend as if he’s never seen him before.

Megumi? Flirting? Blushing? (y/n)? Megumi’s flirting with (y/n)? On purpose? 

His brain computes it all at once in a fast, sloppy mess of thoughts.  But when it dawns on him, his face splits with a wide beam

“Oh my god you like (y/n)!?” He’s practically screeching with joy.

Megumi tries to scowl, but his pink face betrays him, and it only makes him look more adorable.

“I had no idea!” Yuuji’s bouncing on his feet now, “How long have you liked her? How long have you been flirting with her? What’d you say anyways? Does she flirt back? You got good moves?” 

“I guess,” Megumi shrugs, his hands awkwardly fumbling together.  

He’s never really had a crush on anyone before, not like this anyways.  And he’s definitely never had anyone to talk about a crush with before, so he was fairly nervous talking about it now.

“Liked her for a while,” He mumbles, looking anywhere but Yuuji’s expectant, excited face.  “Probably since she got here.  So… I guess I’ve been flirting with her the whole time” 

“That’s adorable,” Yuuji gushes.  “You guys do spend a lot of time together.  Have you gone on any dates?” 

“Yeah, I train with her all the time,” Megumi replies, all too surely.  “And we study, too” 

Yuuji furrows his brows.

Oh, no.

“Training and studying?” He repeats, confused.

Megumi nods his head.

No Megumi, no.

“Those aren’t dates,” Yuuji tells him.  “Dates are movies.  Or ice cream.  Or a picnic, or… well, anything other than training and studying.  Those are just chores you’re doing together” 

“But it’s just the two of us,” Megumi explains.  “And I’m flirting with her” 

“Okay…” Yuuji still sounds unsure.  “Well, how much are you flirting? Give me a line” 

“A line?”

“Yeah, like, tell me something you say to her when you’re flirting” 

“Okay… uh…” Megumi thinks for a second, before smiling to himself and nodding with certainty that he’d remembered a good one.  “She started training with daggers, and I told her she was smart because she’s best with close combat fighting” 

He’s grinning, the poor guy is so proud, and Yuuji can’t help but wince.

“So you… you told her she was smart?” He asked, just to be sure he’d heard him right, and Megumi nodded.

Yuuji sighs, and shakes his head.

“No… no Megumi that’s not flirting,” He huffs.  “I mean, it’s a compliment, but, like, anyone can tell her a compliment- hell, she probably already knew that dude” 

Megumi’s brows draw together, confused at the feedback.  It was his understanding that complimenting her fighting style was flirty- it wasn’t just feedback or critique, it was personal, and therefore intimate.

“So… so she probably didn’t pick up on it?” He asks.  Yuuji nods.

“She for sure didn’t pick up on it dude,” Yuuji tells him.  “But that’s alright, we’ll figure out some other ways of flirting and see what works best for you!” He tells him eagerly.

“Uh… okay… are you sure?” Megumi’s fingers are tangling together again.

“Of course!” Yuuji claps a hand on his shoulder and shakes him in a friendly manner.  “What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t make sure you landed the girl of your dreams!?”

Megumi’s blushing again. ___

“It’s simple,” Yuuji’s voice rang in Megumi’s head as he tried to work up the courage to approach (y/n).  “Just offer to carry her things, and walk with her after class” 

He glanced to where (y/n) was packing her bag up at her desk.  Yuuji and Nobara had just walked out of the room- not without giving him a thumbs up for encouragement- and it was just the two of them left.

How hard could this be, anyways? He thought to himself, finally striding over to her desk.

“Hey, (y/n)” He greeted, albeit a bit awkward, but it was a start.

“Hey,” She smiled up at him as she zipped up her backpack.  “Weird lesson, right? I’m not convinced Gojo’s taken a single class on how to teach” She chuckles to herself.

“He hasn’t” Megumi answers, recalling a memory of the man tossing a textbook in the trash after Principal Yaga had told him to study up on to make him a more qualified teacher.

“Figures” (y/n) shakes her head, but she’s still smiling, so she must not be too annoyed with their teacher’s weird antics.

“Uh, so…” Megumi starts to work up to his offer, but she looks up at him then, and he has to take a deep breath before continuing.  “Can I… can I carry that for you?” 

He points to her backpack, sitting on top of her desk where she’d left it to give him her attention, and she follows his gesture as though she weren’t sure what he was referring to.

“My bag?” She questions.  “Are you off to the field, too?”

No, I’m supposed to meet up with Maki and Yuuta at the library, Megumi thinks, and he’s not a liar, so he doesn’t lie when he answers.

“No” 

(y/n) giggles to herself, before raising a brow at him.

“So you’re going to walk all the way out to the field and then leave?” 

His face feels hot.  His fingers feel twitchy.  Yuuji didn’t tell him what he was supposed to do now, and he felt like an idiot.

“Yes”

Good.  That was a good answer.

(y/n’s) still laughing, but it doesn’t sound malicious like he would have expected, seeing as he’s standing before her making a fool of himself.  It’s sweet.  It’s cute.

His face still feels hot.

“Alright,” She shrugs a shoulder, and hands him her bag.  “You on some step-tracking kick?” 

Victoriously, Megumi shrugs his arm through one of the straps, sliding it onto his shoulder.

“Uh, yeah, something like that” He mumbles, because he’s a terrible liar. As they leave the classroom together, (y/n’s) still trying to suppress her laughter.

She hadn’t quite gotten a full grasp of who Fushiguro Megumi was.  He could be quite odd most days, never acting one certain way.  Some days he was mysterious and quiet, some days he was dorky, and some days he would say the most out of pocket things to her that she wasn’t quite sure how to react.  Nonetheless, she enjoyed his company, and was curious to get to know him better.

“What are you up to with your free afternoon?” She asks him, breaking the silence they’d fallen into since exiting the class.

“Just studying,” He shrugs.  “You?” 

“Training,” She shrugs back.  “I haven’t really done anything else since I got here.  Though I’ve been dying to go see Tokyo, I’ve never been” 

She peeks over at him out of the corner of her eye, a part of her hoping to find out if he was free this weekend.  Maybe if she played her cards right, she could find a way to spend some more one on one time with him.

“Oh really?” He hums curiously.  “It’s cool, I guess.  Probably cooler if you weren’t raised there” 

Her heart deflates a little, but she bounces back quickly and forces a smile.

“I’m sure,” She agrees quietly, with a small, awkward laugh.  “I guess it’s old news to you guys, huh?” 

“Nobara loves the shopping district, if that’s what you’re into, you should hit her up for a trip” Megumi tells her with a smile, certain with himself that he’s given her a great piece of advice, and also an outing with a new friend.

She can’t help but smile back at him, but there’s a sinking feeling in her chest that he wasn’t as interested in her as she thought he might have been, and her spirits dampen a little. “Good to know,” She replies.  “I’ll have to ask her if she wants to hang out sometime” 

She lets out a little sigh, her disappointment evident, but luckily they’ve reached the field, and she takes her bag from him.

“Thanks for carrying it, and walking with me,” (y/n) tells him.  “That was sweet of you, you didn’t have to do that” 

“I didn’t mind,” Megumi tucks his hands into his pockets.  “Good luck in training” He tells her with an all-too confident smile for a guy that didn’t realize the girl he was trying to hit on just gave him a clear opening- and he missed it completely.

“Thanks,” (y/n) hums.  “Good luck with studying” 

With that she’s heading off, and Megumi’s on his way back to the building, hoping Maki hadn’t left a bunch of threatening texts on his phone about him being late.  He’s just about to check when out of nowhere, his other two friends are racing towards him.

“Well? How was it!?” Yuuji’s grinning, certain that Megumi couldn’t have messed up such a simple, classic indication of romantic interest.

“Let me guess, she’s completely into you and you’re going out this weekend?” Nobara’s also grinning, her hands clasped together in excitement.

“Well, no, but she did want to go to Tokyo, so I told her you’d probably love to go” Megumi tells her.

Nobara and Yuuji pause, look at each other, and then their smiles drop and they’re both frowning at him.

“You’re kidding” Yuuji states, like it wasn’t even a question, because it had to be a joke.

“No,” Megumi shakes his head.  “I figured it’d help her be closer friends with-” 

“Idiot!” Nobara smacks the back of her hand against his shoulder, effectively cutting him off.  “Why wouldn’t you offer to go with her?”

Megumi opens his mouth to defend himself, but realization strikes and he shuts himself up before he could even try.  She was right.

Stupid! He scolds himself and slaps his palm to his forehead.

“It’s alright! It’s okay!” Yuuji scrambles to reassure his friend.  “You still did a nice thing for her and had some one on one time, so… next time let’s just try to get you two alone for a little longer and… and we’ll talk more about how to move things forward, alright?” 

He’s nodding at both Megumi and Nobara, hoping that she’d help pitch in to agree that he hasn’t completely blown it.

She rolls her eyes, but ultimately Nobara agrees to help.

(Clearly he needed all the help he could get) ___

Megumi wasn’t always the best at complimenting people, but complimenting (y/n) is what he’d been trying to do the past couple months, so Nobara suggested he focused more on that route.  Words of affirmation couldn’t go wrong, right?

However she did tell him he needed to be a little more… romantic in his choice of compliments.  

“Compliment her beauty! Tell her she has pretty eyes, tell her she’s the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen, stuff like that” She’d said.

Saying something so intimate made his stomach do backflips, but if that’s what flirting was and that’s what would show (y/n) he liked her as more than a friend, then Megumi told himself he had to give it a shot.

And luckily a few days later, the perfect opportunity presented itself.

It was a nice day out and the two of them had made plans to study.  (y/n) had suggested they do so at one of the many picnic tables scattered around the courtyard, to properly enjoy just lovely weather.

So there they were, just the two of them, comfortably quizzing each other, when Nobara passed by, seemingly casually.  She makes a face at Megumi that he interpreted to mean ‘don’t fuck this up!’, but when (y/n) notices her, it’s nothing but smiles and waves.

“How does she look so pretty all the time?” (y/n) huffs, admiring the girl but clearly feeling a pinch of jealousy.  “I swear, it’s like she doesn’t even try” 

This is it! This is an opening! Megumi cheers internally, proud of himself for knowing this was the right time to say something, just like Nobara had taught him.

“It’s not like you’re trying” 

(y/n) blinks, her eyes meeting his as she tries to figure out what he just said, because it made no sense.

She must have looked just as confused as she felt, because he’s stammering suddenly, trying too hard to explain himself.

“I- I mean you aren’t- you don’t have to- try, I mean,” He’s stuttering over his words so much she can barely keep up with what he’s trying to say.

He drops his head in his hands, hoping to cool his rapidly heating face, and also hide his embarrassment.  He definitely fucked that up.  And now he’s making a bigger idiot of himself by hiding behind his hands like a child.  He wonders if he could convince his shikigami to kill him so he doesn’t have to look at her and further humiliate himself.

“What were you trying to say?” (y/n) asks, and to his surprise her voice is soft.  It’s not cruel, she’s not laughing at him, and she doesn’t seem to be teasing him at all.  The question sounds… genuine.

Megumi sighs, dragging his clammy palms down his face and keeping his eyes focused on the ground as if that would keep her from seeing his embarrassment.

“You don’t have to try to be pretty.  You just are” 

He’s still not looking at her, so he misses the way she grins, although she tries to bite it back.  The blush creeping up her neck is threatening to take over her whole face, and she’s positive she’s making a fool of herself for reacting so girlishly to the compliment, but she can’t help it.

“You’re just saying that,” She says, giggling as she shakes her head.  “You’re cheesing” 

“No, ‘m not,” Megumi mumbles, turning his attention back to the textbook in front of him.  “You’re very pretty” He adds in a quieter, almost too quiet, voice.

(y/n) blinked slowly, sure that when she opened her eyes again she would awake in her room, and this would all have been a silly dream.

But there he is, in front of her, furiously highlighting something, with a significant coat of pink over the bridge of his nose.  He’ll have to ask Nobara later how the hell he was supposed to keep this up, because there’s no way he could look her in the eyes with how hot his face feels.

Did flirting mean he’d always be a blushing mess?

Smooth talking was not easy.  And Megumi had a feeling he hadn’t quite been so smooth.  He’d have to find another way to flirt with her without making him shrink into the collar of his shirt.

Sparing his embarrassment, (y/n) dives back into their studies, asking him to quiz her with her flashcards again.  It takes a few minutes for him to stop stammering and blushing, but after a while he’s back to his usual self.  Maybe just a little more nervous than usual.  But (y/n) doesn’t mind.  In fact, she sort of likes it.

Yuuji comes by when they’re wrapping up their study sesh, hanging out and chatting with them both while they pack up their things.

While (y/n) is distracted with organizing her flashcards, the pink haired boy gives Megumi a grin, and a wink.  Megumi’s stomach drops in fear of whatever that was a signal for.

“So,” Yuuji starts, and Megumi mentally braces himself.  “Nobara and I got paired up for a mission tomorrow! So I guess it’s just you two for movie night” 

“Movie night?” (y/n) crinkles her brow, not recalling a plan for movie night.  “I’m sorry, did we have plans?” She asks sheepishly, embarrassed to have forgotten.

“That’s okay! No biggie, since it’s just you and ‘gumi here” Yuuji elbows his friend in the arm, maybe a little harsher than usual.

Was that supposed to be some signal to say something? Megumi casts his friend a confused look.  This was a stupid ploy anyways, there was no movie night.

“Don’t call me that” Megumi rolls his eyes in response, choosing to ignore the hint, whatever it meant.

“Okay,” (y/n) shrugs a shoulder, sending a smile towards Megumi.  “I mean, I’m free.  Is there already a movie picked out?”

Yuuji turns to his friend, smiling proudly that his plan worked, and he’d scored them some one on one time that wasn’t studying, for once.

“Uh, no, guess not” Megumi replies lamely, unsure of what kind of recommendation to make.

Truthfully, he preferred reading.  He didn’t hate movies, and he’d seen many in the past, but he didn’t know what (y/n) preferred, and he didn’t want to pick something she’d hate and make her change her mind.

“Great! I’ll pick one then,” She decides, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

Megumi visibly relaxes.  Yuuji brings his fist to his mouth to hold back a laugh, but it’s not very discreet.

“Hope you like horror” (y/n) says

“Yeah, I, uh, horror’s good” Megumi stammers.

She laughs, and Yuuji decides this is a safe spot to end the interaction and all but drag Megumi away.  He bids (y/n) a cheerful goodbye as he shoves his taller friend away, leaving (y/n) confused but still laughing at the weird pair.

A moment later Megumi looks over his shoulder and gives her an awkward wave goodbye.  She returns it, smiling at him.

He’s a little far to be sure, but she swears, he’s blushing again.

Leading her to wonder if her suspicions were true.

Did Megumi have a crush on her?  ___

At this point, Yuuji and Nobara had pretty much threatened Megumi that if he couldn’t get his shit together for this movie night, they were going to take matters into their own hands to put him and (y/n) together.

“We’ve pretty much secured you a date, got it?” Nobara had snapped as she searched through his closet for just the right thing to wear.  “Do you know how hard it is to convince Gojo we need to go on a paired assignment?” 

“Uh… not hard at all?” Megumi had replied.

“Well… that’s true.  But it’s not how I wanted my Friday night to go!” 

He hadn’t loved letting Nobara go through his closet and dress him up like an oversized doll, but he also didn’t hate the end product.  It was simple, but the black jeans and dark green sweater must have been the right choice, because when (y/n) met him in the common room she’d smiled and complimented him.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you out of uniform,” She’d joked as she plopped onto the sofa.  “You clean up nice”  

He hesitated for a minute before sitting beside her, suddenly all too aware that it would be just the two of them, for the whole night, on this couch.

“I can’t tell if you’re joking or not” He replied.

(y/n) took the remote and began searching for the movie she’d had in mind, but not before chuckling at him and shaking her head.

“Of course I’m not,” She says.  “I mean it.  You look nice.  You have good style, Megumi” 

Alright, so he’ll have to thank Nobara later, and also make sure to never get rid of this sweater.

“Thanks” He mumbles, the familiar feeling of a blush already creeping across his nose.

(y/n) finally finds the movie, and excitedly pushes play before tossing the remote to the coffee table in front of them.

“I love horror movies,” She tells him, settling back into the couch cushions.  “But you should know, I also hate them” 

Megumi gives her a confused look.

“You love them and hate them?” He repeats, not understanding.

“I think they’re great, but, uh, I hate jump scares” She admits, turning away from him to watch the intro credits.

“Well, everyone hates jump scares,” Megumi tells her, also focusing on the movie.  “But you exorcize curses scarier than any movie monster” He adds.

(y/n) bites her lip to keep herself from smiling too hard.

In all honesty, she’d been far too giddy about this movie night.  She’d spent too much time choosing just the right film to show Megumi, and just the right outfit to wear to seem as casual as possible.  She’d been crossing her fingers that her suspicions were true, that Megumi had the same crush on her that she had on him.  But being too nervous to outright ask him, she decided she’d do everything she could to make tonight the most perfect, easy going, fun night she could.

Megumi gets pretty immersed into the film, although with the intro alone he’s pretty much able to guess how the rest of the movie goes, he doesn’t mind.  It helps that (y/n) seems very into it, and keeps looking over at him to see his reactions to certain scenes.

About halfway into the movie, Megumi pauses it.

“Do you want popcorn?” He asks, and (y/n) breaks into a smile and nods at him.

Despite him offering to make two bowls and bring it out to her, (y/n) follows him into the small kitchen and waits with him while the bag is in the microwave.  She pulls herself up to sit on the counter while they wait.

“So what kind of movies do you like?” She asks, hoping to spend these few minutes getting to know him better.

“Oh,” Megumi laughs under his breath, wishing he was a better liar.  He decides a little truth to her question wouldn’t hurt.  “Actually, I kinda prefer to read” 

“Really?” (y/n’s) eyes light up.  “What do you like to read, then?” 

“Nonfiction mostly,” Megumi says with a shrug.  “I know, it’s boring” 

“I don’t think so,” (y/n) says, which he doesn’t expect.  “I actually love reading about science, and true crime” 

He does his best to hide it, but Megumi’s thrilled.  A common interest, Yuuji said to find a common interest and stick to it!

While the popcorn pops, Megumi asks more about the books she’s liked, and even asks for a few recommendations.  She promises to text him about them later so he won’t forget, and he promises he’ll read them.  (y/n) seems to be happy about this, and Megumi mentally cheers to himself.

Their salty treat is finished shortly enough, and Megumi grabs two bowls from the cabinet.

“You can just put it in one, I don’t mind sharing” (y/n) interjects before he dirties either of the smaller bowls.  “Unless that bothers you, of course” She adds.

“It doesn’t bother me” Megumi replies, swapping out the dishes for one larger bowl that could fit the whole bag.

(y/n) hops off the counter and snatches the bowl as she walks back into the living room, Megumi trailing closely behind her.

He takes the bowl back from her as he sits on the couch, and when she sits behind him, he realizes the beauty of sharing the popcorn.

“You better brace yourself, Megumi, because this is when the movie gets really scary” (y/n) says, and she sounds like she’s only half joking.

He musters a small laugh, but she’s sitting much closer to him than she was before so that they could share their snack easier, and his brain is getting foggy from the sweet smell of her shampoo.

Was it flowery or fruity? He wondered but couldn’t tell, and he couldn’t get enough of it.

She wasn’t wrong, the movie did take a turn for the darker, although Megumi wasn’t really one to get genuinely scared from scary movies, (y/n) did flinch here and there at the jumpscares.  With the side of her thigh pressed against his, he could feel it every time her leg twitched.

Their eyes remained glued to the screen, lost in the movie as the main character tiptoed around the house with only a flashlight for lighting.  Megumi could understand now why everyone hated the main characters of these movies, they were always running off on their own and getting themselves into more trouble than necessary.  Although he is reminded of Yuuji.

Encaptured by the tv screen, they’re both blindly reaching for popcorn here and there, addicted to the buttery treat as soon as they’d started eating it.  As Megumi reached his hand over to snag another piece, he’d accidentally brushed his fingers over (y/n’s), not seeing that she’d also been grabbing some.

Anxiously, he pulls his hand away, turning to apologize right away.  But (y/n) looks over at him with a smile before taking a few pieces and popping them into her mouth, turning back to the movie, clearly unfazed.

From that alone, Megumi feels his face go hot, and he tells himself he’s not going to have anymore popcorn, just to save himself the embarrassment.

But, if he did have a craving for a few more pieces, it wouldn’t be the end of the world if his hand touched hers again… would it? 

He felt hot from his neck to his ears, and he’d already lost track of the last few minutes of the movie.  Meanwhile (y/n) only seemed to get more comfortable, tucking her legs up onto the couch underneath her, thus making her lean just the slightest bit more against him.  She was so close Megumi was holding his breath.  She didn’t even realize this until after a few minutes, she noticed he wasn’t eating.

“Am I hogging it?”

She was whispering, even though there wasn’t currently dialogue in the movie, so he wouldn’t have been all that distracted if she’d spoken normally.  However, when he looked down at her to ask what she meant, he’s immediately distracted again.

She’s so much closer to him now that when he looks down at her, her face is just a few mere inches away from his.  He doesn’t think he’s ever been this close to her, not even when training.  His voice catches in his throat, and he spends a good minute just silently staring at her with wide eyes.

(y/n) starts to blush under his intense stare and close proximity, but she doesn’t shy away from him, she simply repeats her question.

“The popcorn,” She clarifies, shaking the bowl with the remnants of their snack.  “Am I hogging it?”

Megumi’s eyes briefly flicker to it, but quickly return to hers as he shakes his head.

“No, you’re good,” He finally speaks, and finds that he’s whispering, too.  “I mean, I can always just make more, if you want” 

He’s talking slowly, like he’s not really sure of what he’s saying, but (y/n) doesn’t mind, or find it all too odd.  She’s quite enjoying getting an up close view of his face.  She allows herself to really take in all his features, the way his hair almost hangs over his eyes, the slope of his nose, the curve of his lips, the deep blue of his eyes, she’s getting positively lost in staring at him.  Even as the main character is screaming for their life on the tv in front of them, neither one of them loses their focus on the other.

Megumi’s mind is running wild, noticing the trail of her eyes everywhere they go.  As he’s admiring her, she’s admiring him, and he’s trying so hard to work up the courage to do something when her lashes droop low and her eyes land on his lips.

“And for the love of god, if the moment arises that you should kiss her, then fucking do it!” Nobara’s voice rang in his head.

He’s not sure how he landed himself in this perfect intimate moment, but he knows he shouldn’t waste it.

“I- I think you’re the prettiest person I’ve ever seen,” He stutters a little, but tries to ignore and keep this brief burst of confidence intact.  “And, I’m glad you wanted to, um, hang out” 

A small smile tugs at the corners of (y/n’s) lips, the butterflies in her stomach fluttering around even more from the flattering.

“That’s funny,” She murmurs.  “I was just thinking the same thing,” 

Megumi’s flustered, his heart is beating excessively, his face is hotter than it’s ever been, and his tongue is tied, but he smiles back at her, soft and warm and inviting.

“Can I ask you something?” She asks, and he nods, swallowing the lump in his throat.  “Have you been trying to flirt with me?” 

(y/n) can’t contain the smile on her face as she asks him her question, too eager for his answer.  And when his blush darkens and his eyes momentarily stare down at nothing, her hopes only skyrocket.

“Trying” Megumi mutters the word she used back to her.

“So you have?” (y/n) giggles, leaning in closer to meet his eyes again.

Her eyes are so bright, Megumi can tell, even without the lights on in the common room, even with little to no light coming from the tv due to the dark setting of the movie.  She’s practically glowing with happiness.

“Yeah,” He admits nervously.  “I have” 

(y/n) moves the popcorn bowl off her lap, moving away from him briefly so she could set it on the coffee table, before leaning back towards him, just as close as she was before.  His instincts battle as half of him wants to lean back to give her space, and the other half wants to close the rest of the distance between them.

“Is that what all the compliments on my training were about?” She asks with a knowing smile.

Megumi nods his head shyly.

(y/n’s) giggling again, soft and angelic and he couldn’t possibly be upset that she’s laughing at him, because the sound is so sweet he’d do anything to make her laugh more.

“There wasn’t a movie night, was there?” She asks quietly.

He shakes his head this time.

“So… Yuuji just wanted to set you up, huh?” She asks again as she starts to put the pieces together.

Megumi raises a hand to the back of his neck awkwardly, but he knows he can’t really convince her otherwise, so he confesses.

“Yeah… he… said that I wasn’t doing a good enough job and that I needed a push” He admits, turning his head to the side to hide the now burning blush on his face.

“Well, that’s kind of silly, I thought you were doing a great job,” (y/n) says, and Megumi peeks back at her out of the corner of his eye.  “But I can’t complain, I’m just glad I got to spend more time alone with you, anyways” 

Slowly, he faces her again.

“You are?” He asks, unsurely.

(y/n) nods and gives him an affirmative hum.

“I thought you were just really into studying,” She teases.  “I didn’t think I’d ever get you alone for something fun” 

Flustering, Megumi tries to defend himself.

“I- I like fun stuff too” 

“Like what?” (y/n) asks.

Trying to think on his feet, he thinks back to what Yuuji had described to be actual dates.

“Ice cream,” 

He says it so surely, so confidently, that (y/n) has to bite down on her lip to keep herself from laughing this time.  She has a pretty good understanding of what he’s trying to say, but he’s just so damn cute.

Megumi cringes at himself, smacking his own forehead and wishing the ground would swallow him whole, because it was impossible to keep his sanity when he was talking to her.

“I didn’t- I didn’t mean it like that,” He assures her.  “I meant I like going out.  I would like to go out- we- we could go out-” 

“Megumi,” (y/n) ends his misery, reaching forward and tugging on his wrist so he’d remove his hand from his face.  “I would like to go out with you for ice cream” She tells him with a sweet smile.

He doesn’t know what he did to make this girl like him, because he’s pretty sure he’s made an idiot of himself every time he opens his mouth, but he thanks whoever is watching over him that he’s done something that works.

“Really?” 

(y/n) nods, her hand sliding into his, fingers slotting in the spaces between his.  Her hand is significantly smaller compared to his, and it’s so warm it’s almost comforting.  It is comforting.  He can feel his shoulders relax, and his heartbeat finally slowing to a normal pace.

“Really” She affirms.

The tv is flickering with the rolling credits of the movie they’d forgotten, and Megumi finally feels like he could have a grasp on this whole flirting thing.

“Can I kiss you?” 

(y/n) smirks.

“It’d be a shame if you didn’t” 

He didn’t need much more of an answer than that.  With his free hand wrapping around the back of her neck to draw her a few mere inches forward, his lips slant over hers and any embarrassment left in him disappears in a second.  (y/n) returns his kiss with fervor, letting his hand go so she could give into the intrusive thoughts that had attacked her all night, running her fingers through his hair, nails scraping slightly at the nape of his neck.

The sensation was enough to give him an ego boost, and Megumi drops a hand to her hip, pulling her closer until her chest leaned into his, and even still he pulled more, and more, until they couldn’t possibly be any closer.

His lips dragged over hers as his nose prodded hers to the side, tilting his head to deepen their kiss further.  A hum of approval traveled up her throat and vibrated gently against his mouth, and she could only sneak in a few more kisses until she had to pull on his sweater to make him stop so she could catch her breath.

Their blushing faces are mirrored now, both smiling shyly, and still clinging onto one another.

“Did Yuuji give you advice on that too?” (y/n) chuckled, her chest heaving as she caught her breath.  Megumi chuckles, his eyes falling to her now swollen lips.

“If I say yes, are you going to stand me up for our ice cream date?”

The pair giggle quietly amongst themselves, (y/n’s) arms wrapped loosely around his neck, Megumi’s arms wrapped loosely around her waist, neither one of them wanting to part even though their movie had ended and it was rather late into the evening.

“So it’s a date now?” (y/n) quirks a brow.

Megumi smiles, more sure of himself now than he has been in the last couple of months.

“Of course it is” 

(y/n) smiles back at him melting a little further into his embrace.

“So then I suppose that makes you my boyfriend” She adds cheekily.

Megumi raises a hand to curl his fingers under her jaw, his thumb stroking lazily over her skin.  He watches this movement for a minute as he relishes in the delight of being bestowed such a title.

He decides to steal the moment with a kiss, which (y/n) happily returns.  This kiss is softer than their first.  It’s also shorter, but just as passionate.  He’s smiling again when they part, resting his forehead against hers as he gazes fondly into her eyes.

“I suppose it does”  ___

this was supposed to be SHORT what did i DO

xoxo ~ jordie

[storydays]

You could give poppy and viva a brother!reader,you don’t have to but you could

My WHAT?!

Viva and Poppy X Brother! Male!Reader

Clay X Male Reader

“Oh my gosh, HeeLllOOOOOO!!! My name is Viva and It’s so fantasamazing to see other Trolls!” The yellow haired Troll squealed, hugging everyone before getting off track and having girl talk with Poppy, when another figure appeared behind Branch and John Dory.

“Oye, don't mind Viva..” The brothers yelped, turning to see a orange skinned male Troll dressed similar to Viva, except he was wearing a crown on his blond head, and he had dark bags under his eyes. “She’s been like that since we were trollings.”

“Mi gemelo melancólico everyone, (Y/N). He’s the moon to my sun.” Viva and (Y/N) shared twin grins. “Whatever, we’re being rude.” (Y/N) offered fist bumps and high fives to the new Trolls, as Viva called for fries and milkshakes. “Lights on for our new friends, Putt Putt Trolls!”

You were chewing on a fry, ignoring the group, even when Clay arrived when you heard the familiar ping of a Hug Time bracelet. “Hug Time!” You chirped with Viva and hugged the nearest Troll which happened to be Clay. He laughed softly, patting your head, ignoring the looks his brothers’ were giving him. 

You stopped squeezing the green haired Troll, and popped up to Viva’s side, as she looked closer at Poppy’s hug time bracelet. “I’m sorry, what did you say your name was again?” You wondered, looking closer at the pink haired Troll in front of you.

“I’m Poppy.” “Okay, another random question: is your Dad King Peppy?” Viva asked hesitantly. 

“Um, yea.” You and Viva had different reaction: she squealed loudly and hugged Poppy and twirled around happily. You smiled softly, eyes misting, as Clay whispered to you, “Are you okay, cariño?” You nodded your head as you walked forward to hug her Poppy much softer than Viva did but still as sweet.

“(Nickname), our hermanita is alive! And she’s the Pop Queen now?!” Viva squealed again as you held Poppy’s face in your hands. “You’re really alive, Popstar. And wow! You are so grown up now and absolutely rocking that queen look, lil sis.” You gush, excitedly flapping your hands up and down and tapping your feet.

Poppy gasped as she remembered hearing a soft voice calling her a Popstar. “It was you!” You tilted your head, curious to what she was talking about. “I’ve always remembered a voice and a warm smile calling me Popstar, but Dad used to say it was in my head. I have a sister and a brother? I was just saying this! Wasn’t I just saying this? How could I not know about secret siblings!” “That is so Dad.” The three of you chorused giggling amongst yourself.

You took a step back walking backwards as Clay’s arm wrapped around your waist, watching Viva and Poppy talk at rapid speed. Something about planning events and best friends? Before you realized it, you were singing softly with your sisters’, catching up, and watching Clay hang with his brothers’, fighting the smirk on his face.

You found yourself curled up into Clay’s side as you got to know his brothers, while Viva and Poppy ran off towards Viva’s house for sister time. 

You frowned hearing about the danger Floyd’s in, for a number of reasons. You were tired of hearing bigger creatures bigger that Trolls abuse Trolls for any reason.

It’s why Viva and the other Putt Putt Trolls made you their king.You’d do anything for Trolls to ensure they could live peacefully. But you also knew it meant Clay and Poppy were going to leave.

You’d seen the way she and Branch looked at each other, and knew where one went, the other wasn’t far behind.

It’s how others’ described you and Clay. But you also knew that Viva wasn’t going to let Poppy go easily. 

You pulled Clay’s arm making him stop mid explanation.. “Amor, you and your brothers’ should get going, before Viva tries to–” You gasped as the door came down with a heavy thud. “Stop you.” you trailed off, sighing and resting your forehead on Clay’s shoulder. 

Maldita sea.

Translations:

Oye= Hey

Mi gemelo melancólico = My broody twin

cariño= sweetheart

hermanita= little sister

amor= love

maldita sea= damn it

Part 2?

@vacayisland

[lipglossanon]

With Devils Inside Me

꒰ ͜͡➸ ꒰ ͜͡➸ ꒰ ͜͡➸ ꒰ ͜͡➸ ꒰ ͜͡➸ ꒰ ͜͡➸ ꒰ ͜͡➸ ꒰ ͜͡➸

Dark Stepdad!Leon S. Kennedy x Virgin fem!reader

For the anon who asked for virgin reader! Leon is very dark in this compared to my others so I hope you like it!! 🫣

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, dark Leon, stepcest, creeper Leon, mean Leon, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (f receiving), Leon has a dark breeding kink, unwanted pregnancy kink ? not sure how to label it lmao

Not proofread ✌️

Title from Christmas Kids by Roar

part ii

꒰ ͜͡➸ ꒰ ͜͡➸ ꒰ ͜͡➸ ꒰ ͜͡➸ ꒰ ͜͡➸ ꒰ ͜͡➸ ꒰ ͜͡➸ ꒰ ͜͡➸

The new husband your mom acquired while you were gone over the summer is a huge surprise to you. You stayed with your dad over the course of few weeks since he’ll be gone on a business trip during your birthday. So here you are now, standing at the arrival bay in the airport closest to home waiting for your mom. You wave when you see her, but you also notice the tall, muscular man standing directly behind her. 

“Honey!” She smiles and pulls you into a hug, “oh it’s so good to see you again! I have some big news to share.”

You smile confusedly as she grabs the man’s hand. Your gaze moves from their clasped hands to his face, feeling a thrill of surprise at his dark blue eyes staring straight at you. 

“This is Leon! We eloped a few weeks ago,” she gushes, showing you the new ring on her finger, “he moved in with us so no worries on having a new room,” she titters, completely missing the heated way his eyes drag down your body.

You smile awkwardly, “Oh uh that’s great, um, congrats mom. A-and it’s nice to meet you, Leon.”

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, sweetheart,” his low voice gives you goosebumps, “your mom talks about you nonstop.”

“Oh, stop, I do not,” she giggles, patting his wide chest, “can you grab her bags, Leon?”

Your mom links your arms together as Leon brushes past you to grab your luggage. You catch a whiff of his cologne then your mom is tugging you along, chattering about her summer and why she wanted to keep her new marriage a surprise for you. 

“I hope you had fun with your dad, honey,” she sighs happily, “I know how much you miss him.”

You smile softly, “Yeah, we had a great time. He said when he gets back from this trip that I can come stay for a while again.”

“Oh that’ll be nice,” your mom coos, patting your cheek. 

She leans in a little closer, “I know it’s not the same, but Leon’s around now so—“

“Mom,” you cringe a little, “I don’t even know him that well and—“

“But you will,” she states firmly, “all I’m saying is he’s so excited to have a daughter in his life. He said he’s always wanted someone to take care of.”

Your eyes cut back behind you to see Leon scanning the airport as you three walk out; feeling your gaze on him, his eyes snap over to you. He tilts his head and gives you a strange smile. Hurriedly, you drop his intense gaze and face the airport exit. You feel anxiousness fizzing in your chest at his behavior.

“C’mon, once we get home and you get settled, you’ll see how nice it can be.”

After that first day back home, you make sure to avoid being with Leon—alone or otherwise. His vibes are off as your friends would say. He’s always staring at you, no matter what you’re doing. You’ve subtly brought it up to your mom, not wanting to make things weird cause Leon hasn’t actually said or done anything to you. Well, outside the niceties of things like ‘how was your day?’ or ‘dinner’s ready’. He’s perfectly normal, but something about him just squicks you out.

Unfortunately, you can’t avoid him forever. Your mom rarely travels for work, but there was an emergency at a satellite branch in the next state and so she packed up her bags, kissed you on the cheek, and bid Leon goodbye at the door with a hug and a kiss. The door closing felt like the lid on a coffin snapping shut. You felt small and alone.

Leon watches your mom pull out of the drive and then turns to face you, “Guess it’s just us, huh sweetheart.”

You laugh nervously, “Guess so.”

His unnerving blue eyes just watch you with that strange smile hovering over his mouth. 

“Well, I’ll go get started on dinner. I’ll call you when it’s finished,” he walks past you to the kitchen, brushing his fingers along your arm, “don’t be late, sweetheart.”

You hold your breath until he’s out of sight and then let it go in a shudder. Walking over into the living room, you curl up on the couch and put some mindless show on the tv. You scroll through your phone, browsing through your friend’s updates and random news until the hair on the back of your neck raises. You jerkily turn your head to look behind you and see Leon leaning in the doorframe, staring—always staring—at you.

“Was just about to let you know dinner’s ready,” he smiles crookedly, eyes empty, “wanna go wash up while I set the table?”

“S-sure,” you clear your throat and shakily stand on your legs, “I’ll be there in sec.”

He hums and turns back into the kitchen leaving you to anxiously make your way to the bathroom to wash your hands. You gaze into the mirror and see your wide eyes peering back, anxiousness written all over your features. You pat some cold water on our cheeks and dry them off. Cutting off the light, you head back over to the dining room.

You frown as you see your normal seat is empty; Leon has you sitting beside him, where your mom would usually be. You walk over to the seating arrangement and jump when Leon brushes your arm.

“Here,” he murmurs next to your ear as he pulls the seat out for you.

“Uh, t-thanks,” your voice shakes as you sit down.

His fingertips graze the back of your neck as he situates your chair. You shiver and lean forward, pretending to fiddle with your glass. Glancing from the corner of your eye, you see a smirk flicker over Leon’s face before he schools his expression. You can feel your heart in your throat.

“I hope we can get along the few days your mom will be gone, sweetheart,” he speaks, his voice low as he sits down next to you.

You give him a weak smile, “I-I’m sure we will.”

He hums noncommittally, ignoring the food on his plate to take the hand you have closest to him.

“You’re trembling, pretty girl, you feeling okay?” His voice is all rough concern but his eyes are wicked.

You softly try to tug your hand back, but he has it in a firm grip.

“Oh uh, yeah, I-I haven’t been f-feeling too well. Think I got a headache,” you wince a little as he squeezes your fingers, “maybe I should go lay down or something.”

You watch with sick fascination as you see his demeanor shift from lax to alert. His eyes are dark and his lips twitch into a smile.

“I think that would be best, sweetheart. C’mon let me take you to bed.”

You stand up quickly, nearly tripping over your chair, “Ahh, no I’m fine really.”

You laugh but it sounds a little manic even to your ears, “I uh I’ll be just fine, but thanks.”

He frowns at you and stands from his chair too. You feel cornered but try your absolute best not to show it. 

“I really think I should help you, sweetheart,” he looks at you with hungry eyes, “you know, I’ve always wanted a babygirl to take care of.”

“O-oh? Mom m-mentioned you always wanting t-to have a d-daughter to take care of,” you smile shakily, swallowing at the way he’s tracking your every move.

The smile is slow to overtake his features, but it makes your heart rabbit in your chest.

“She did? Well, I did say babygirl. I guess you could infer daughter from that,” he chuckles, no mirth in the sound, “always wanted a pretty girl of my own, a sweet babygirl who just needs daddy to take care of her.”

You can’t hold back the gasp as you push away from the table and back into the living room, not taking your eyes off of Leon.

“Aw, don’t be that way sweetheart,” he coos, slowly stalking forward, “you can’t imagine how lucky I feel at finding your mom; I almost dumped her, but then she springs your picture on me. Such a sweet little thing, but sadly wouldn’t be back til the end of the summer.”

He continues to slowly follow you as you make your way to the front door, afraid if you turn around and run that he’ll grab you.

“So I bid my time til that sweet looking girl comes home. And if I fix it to where I’m more of a permanent figure in her life, all the better,” he smirks, “no offense, sweetheart, but your mom is only a means to an end.”

Your eyes are wide and panicked, darting to the couch you can see where you left your phone not thinking anything of it. 

“Well as much fun as this is, think it’s time to wrap it up,” he pauses and rolls his shoulders back. 

You turn and run for the door, but Leon catches you in next to no time. Wrapping his bulky arms around you, he easily lifts you from the ground. You scream but it’s cut short as he moves one hand to cover your mouth.

“Nuh uh, sweetheart,” he clicks his tongue, “I’m afraid none of that.”

He scents your hair and groans, “So fucking sweet. Now I’m going to ask you something and you better answer me honestly cause it can get very nasty very quick.”

You nod your head, tears leaking from your eyes blurring your vision.

He chuckles, “Good girl, god I knew you’d be perfect. You a virgin, baby? Daddy needs to know how to treat you.”

Sobbing harder, you nod.

You feel his hold tighten around you, “Fuck. I’m just the luckiest daddy in the whole world, huh.”

Your legs kick as you feel yourself hyperventilating. Twisting your head you try to move his hand, nostrils flaring as your breath quickens. 

“Shh, shh, baby, it’s okay,” he soothes you, “I’m going to move my hand but if you try to yell, I’m gonna be very upset.”

Nodding you agree, tears and snot running down your face. He moves his palm away but doesn’t let up on the hold he has on your waist. You breathe in a deep, gasping wheeze trying to calm your racing heart.

“There’s my good girl,” he pets your hair away from your face, “now we’re gonna go upstairs. I’ll put you down once we make it to the bedroom.”

A sob slips past your lips but you don’t do anything to fight his hold as he carries you upstairs to his room—the room he shares with your mom. A whole new slew of tears stream from your eyes, breath hitching on every exhale. He enters the room, shuts and locks the door behind him with an actual lock and key. You feel defeated looking at the heavy ornate lock. 

He walks over to the bed and sets you down on it carefully. He tucks the key away in the nightstand, eyes watching you watch him. 

“Don’t even think about it, sweetheart,” he pats your cheek softly, a hard look in his eyes, “it won’t end well.”

Sniffling, you nod yes.

“Good girl,” he purrs, eyes glinting, “really such a sweet, perfect girl for daddy.”

He slips off his shirt and jeans leaving him bare chested in a pair of briefs. You hate yourself for gawking, but you’ve never seen him in such a state of undress. His abs flex as he shifts his jeans down his thick thighs; you drag your gaze down further and see the outline of his cock filling out his briefs. God he wasn’t even hard and he’s already so big. A sick thrill of arousal pulses in your clit. Flushing, you can’t stop staring at his muscles flexing as he folds his clothes and sets them aside.

“C’mon, baby, let’s lay down to help with that headache,” the low timbre of his voice makes your nipples tighten.

You use your palm to wipe your nose and then dry the tears off of your face, feeling disgust war with your arousal as you lay down with Leon pressed along your side.

He doesn’t do anything more than hold you, running his fingertips over the bridge of your nose, across your cheekbones, then lightly across your lips. After a few minutes, your muscles start to relax in his hold, the heat from his body seeping into your thin shirt and shorts. 

He tugs you closer until you’re tucking your face under his chin. His hands now running up and down your back, broad palms soothing you. 

Without consciously realizing it, you sigh and press closer to him, nuzzling into his neck. 

“Such a sweet girl,” he rumbles, chest vibrating against yours, “gonna take good care of you, sweetheart.”

You’ve cried all the tears you can and numb acceptance has taken its place. You don’t want to make things worse for yourself so you nod. 

“Okay,” your quiet voice mumbles in his neck. 

Surprisingly, this is the most he does to you for the rest of the evening. Just pets you softly and murmurs praise into your hair, dropping a kiss every now and then to the crown of your head. In some dark, messed up part of your brain, you’re preening under the attention. 

You’ve always shied away from attention that boys gave you; always told they’re only ever out for one thing. Your friends have come to you with tales of heartbreak or horror stories of how their boyfriends treat them. To have this older man so obsessed with you, wanting to take care of you, makes you ache with want at the same time it frightens and disturbs you. 

The argument that dark part of you has put forth is what can it hurt? Your mom will eventually come home and this whole thing is going to fall apart for Leon. Why not indulge in this sick fantasy while it lasts? Let him take care of you just to see what it feels like.  

You fall asleep on him like this, pulled under from the thoughts swirling in your head and Leon’s steady heartbeat in your ears. A loud buzzing sounds in the quiet and the warmth surrounding you disappears. You reach out and only touch empty space. 

Groggily, you raise up on your elbows to look around. Leon is talking softy on the phone on the other side of the room. You shiver, missing the warmth of his arms. Rubbing at your eyes, you stand up from the bed. Leon’s eyes narrow at you and he walks back over to your side. 

He pauses for a second as he sees you pull back the covers and then climb back into bed. 

“‘m cold,” you whisper to him, pulling the blanket up to your chin. 

“Let me call you back, okay? Yeah, you too. Bye.”

Setting the phone down on the nightstand, he tugs the covers up and slips underneath to lay next to you. 

“Sorry, baby, had to take a call,” he smooths a thumb under your tired eyes, “didn’t know you’d get cold.”

“S’okay,” you mumble, letting him wrap his arms around you again, enjoying the warmth they bring. 

“Such a good girl,” he praises, “I wonder if you can do me a little favor?”

You hum in reply. 

“Can you call me daddy, sweetheart?”

Your breath hitches and that dark part you keep hidden is excited at the prospect. 

“Yes, daddy,” you whisper, a hot flush of arousal making your toes curl under the covers. 

“Good girl,” he kisses your forehead, “such a good girl.”

He continues to kiss you, pressing one on each cheek, on one of your ears, across your jaw, and lastly on the corner of your lips. 

“Daddy,” you whine, eyes fluttering in embarrassment as you squirm from the attention. 

“Shh, babygirl,” he coos at you, kissing the other corner of your lips, “let daddy treat you for being such a good girl.”

Your hands press against his pecs, not pushing or pulling him away, as he kisses across your face again. His lips move closer and closer until he’s ghosting them across your own. With your bottom lip trembling, he presses your mouths together softly. 

You mewl and lightly scratch at his chest. This time he kisses you heatedly, tongue dragging across the seam of your lips. You pull back, eyes widened in surprise. 

“Uh uh, sweetheart, don’t be rude,” he tsks at you, eyes narrowed in disdain.

“I’ve n-never kissed anyone,” you duck your head, “I h-haven’t done anything.”

“Baby,” he croons, hand coming up to cradle your jaw, making you look back up, “I’ll show you, teach you what daddy likes best.”

You clench your thighs together, “Okay daddy.”

The side of his mouth ticks up in a grin, “We’ll go slow, don’t want to scare my sweet girl.”

Warmth pools low in your stomach. 

You’ve already decided on letting this thing happen between you two, so steeling yourself you whisper, “I’m not scared, daddy. We don’t have to go slow.”

“Oh?” his hands drag down your body until they settle on your lower back, “such a brave girl huh?”

You nod, biting your lower lip, “I can handle it.”

His cold, blue eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles crookedly, “You will one way or another, sweetheart.”

Expecting him to push for more, you’re surprised when he just goes back to kissing you. This time you let him slip his tongue inside your mouth; it’s so hot and wet, it makes you whine, rubbing your thighs together. He lets his hands drift from your lower back down to cup your ass and pull you flush against him. He pulls back for a second then greedily licks back into your mouth when you chase after his lips.

You pant against his mouth, trying to copy what he’s doing, letting your own tongue slide against his into his mouth. He coaxes you to taste him, stroking your tongues together before pushing yours back into your mouth, chasing after you to eagerly plunder your mouth. A low whine builds in your throat and his grip on your ass tightens, his hips rolling into yours. 

He grabs your leg and hikes it over his hip, pressing up against you more intimately. You pull your lips away and moan at feeling his half hard cock pressed against your cunt, feeling the heat even through your thin shorts.

“Like that, babygirl?” He grins at you, swiping his thumb over your swollen lips, “we’ll get there, don’t worry.”

Your eyes flutter as he rolls his hips into you again, grinding against your damp center.

“Got you so wet already, sweetheart,” his eyes drop down to your splayed thighs, “already soaked through your cute little shorts.”

You feel embarrassment clawing in your chest, “S-sorry, daddy.”

“Don’t apologize, honey,” he coos, “just means daddy’s taking good care of you.”

He rolls you over onto your back while he raises up, “Let’s get you out of those clothes. You can’t be feeling too comfortable with it rubbing against that sweet little cunt.”

You gasp and press you palms to your face as more wetness fills your panties.

“Oh I know,” he chuckles, low timbre making your clit pulse, “take off your shirt too so daddy can see your tits, babygirl.”

You whine but do as you’re told, hands shaking as you pull your shirt off and fumble with your bra. While you’re doing that, Leon’s slowly tugging your shorts and panties down your legs. Your thighs are wet with slick, pussy throbbing and leaking.

“Mmm, good girl,” he praises, dark eyes taking in your trembling thighs and wet cunt, “got a juicy little pussy don’t ya, sweetheart?”

“Daddy,” you whimper, closing your thighs as you put your hands down to cover yourself. 

“Uh uh,” his eyes narrow down at you, pulling your hands back with one hand while opening your legs with the other, “daddy’s looking at your hot little cunt, so behave and sit there, baby.”

You feel more slick dribble from your hole at his mean look and dirty words. He lets go of your hands and you tangle them in the sheets. Your hips jump when he strokes his broad palms across your legs and up your thighs, pinning them down.

“Daddy just wants a little taste, sweetheart,” he hums, dipping his head down and kissing your hip bones, “wanna see if you’re as sweet as you look.”

When he swipes his tongues through your wet folds and across your clit, stars spark behind your eyes as you cry out.

“Sorry, baby, didn’t get a good enough taste so I’ll have to do it again,” his dark eyes watch you hungrily.

Even though you know what to expect this time, it still sends white hot pleasure pulsing throughout your cunt as he laps at your slick hole and throbbing clit. You moan and thrash your head, fingers gripping the sheets tightly.

“Mmm, you taste so good baby, knew you would,” his slick shiny lips hover over your clit, breath teasing across the sensitive bud, “want daddy to keep kissing your pretty pussy?”

“Y-yes, daddy,” you choke out, hips arching against the hold he has on your thighs.

“Good, so good for me, honey. This virgin cunt hasn’t been touched has she?” He thumbs across your clit, “you ever play with your cute pussy, baby?”

“No, I don’t— it’s embarrassing,” you whisper, eyes watering.

He groans, pressing a sloppy kiss to the hood of your clit, “Don’t worry, daddy’s gonna show you how to feel so good.”

He kisses your pussy lips, running his tongue through your wet folds until he’s pressing his face fully into your cunt. His tongue thrusts in and out of your leaking hole as his nose rubs against your clit. Feeling so much at once has you moaning loudly, heels digging into the bedding not able to move from the firm grip Leon has on your thighs.

He groans, the sound vibrating in your cunt making you scratch at the sheets before shakily grabbing onto his hair. His eyes flicker open and stare at you, pupils blown so wide you can barely see the blue. He greedily laps up the slick dribbling from your clenching heat. He presses his nose firmer against your clit and moves his face back and forth, rubbing his chin against your spread pussy lips while his nose bumps and grinds against your sensitive clit. 

“Daddy,” you mewl, petting through his blonde strands, “feels good.”

The whispered praise makes your heart race with anticipation and nerves. Leon pulls away from your pussy, face wet with your slick. 

“Yeah?” his gravelly voice makes you shiver, “seems like this juicy pussy needed some attention.” 

You whine, hips bucking, “Y-yeah, daddy, needed your attention.”

“Mm,” he hums, eyes dropping back to your throbbing clit, “she sure does. Gonna taste you some more, babygirl. Then we’ll see if daddy can fit some fingers in you.”

Gasping, your back arches. 

“Then he’s gonna taste those pretty nipples that are so hard for me,” he rumbles, “think I’ll give’em some love while I finger this tight kitty.”

“Daddy!” you feel slick gush from your hole, wetting the sheets, arousal burning hot in your blood. 

“Baby did you cum?” His dark eyes look back down at your thighs, a mean chuckle leaving his mouth, “god, you’re so easy sweet girl.”

 With a groan, he goes back to shoving his face into your cunt, tongue eagerly lapping into your fluttering walls. It feels like your orgasm never wanes, only continues to climb higher and higher until you’re crying out and cumming a second time against Leon’s tongue. 

When he finally pulls away from your oversensitive pussy, his lower jaw and chin are coated in your slick. 

He runs a thumb across his lips, tongue licking the excess slick off, “Taste so good, babygirl. But as much as I wanna stay down here, I really need to feel you cream your virgin pussy on my cock.”

Dread and elation make you feel dizzy with nerves, hands shakily running through your hair, “I-I’m nervous, daddy.”

He smiles at you, all sharp teeth and hard edges, not even trying to instill any comfort in you, “It’s okay, baby, daddy’s gonna make you feel so good. You’re gonna want my dick all the time.”

He moves up to lay between your spread thighs, mouth eagerly latching onto a hard nipple. He slips a finger inside your tight cunt and slowly thrusts it in and out. You cry out and scratch at his back. He swaps to suckle at the other nipple as he continues to loosen up your clenching hole. 

“Open up for me, baby,” he murmurs against your breasts, lazily sucking marks into your skin, “just relax and feel good.”

You squirm, but settle against the bed with a low moan; Leon takes a moment but then slips another finger into your pussy, using both to gently stretch your hole. He pulls his fingers out to spread your pussy open, mouth suckling at your puffy nipples. 

“D-daddy,” you gasp, eyes wide as you look down at him. 

Leon slowly circles your swollen clit, teasingly dragging his first and middle finger down to your leaking hole. He slips them in just a little and then drags the wetness back up to slide over your pulsing clit. You whine and buck into the feeling, guilt and arousal swirling through your thoughts. 

“Your mom called earlier,” Leon’s voice pulls your attention down to his serious gaze, “said she’ll be gone all week, baby. That I need to take care of you.”

He presses a kiss on your areola, lips dragging against your hard nipple. Your pussy leaks more slick out onto his fingers, dizzy with the thought of being trapped in this house with Leon for a whole week. 

“Told her it would be my pleasure,” he smirks at you, feeling your walls clench down on him, “daddy’s going to take very good care of you, sweetheart.”

Too many thoughts and images of Leon and you at home, all alone, flitter through your hazy mind. You’re sick excited at the prospect—all the things he’s going to do to you, things you want him to do to you— it leaves you dizzy and breathless. 

“Daddy,” you sigh, eyes drooping, “so good to me.”

His eyes narrow at you before a slow smile spreads across his handsome face, almost gleeful at your new tone, “Of course, baby. You’re my sweet, sweet girl.”

The tension in your body melts as his fingers continue to thrust and rub against a spongy spot in your cunt that makes you whine and roll your hips down into his hand.  Leon notices and his fingers speed up from their slow, steady movements to rough strokes until he slips his fingers out to rub against your wet, swollen clit. He pinches lightly before tapping his fingers wetly against the bundle of nerves then goes back to rubbing your clit softly. 

You mewl when he stops fingering you only for Leon to dip his fingers back into your pussy and scissor you open. Moaning, you lift your hips off the bed to angle your pussy to fit his fingers better. Having Leon take you apart across his marriage bed is making you feel dirty and desperate. 

“Good girl,” he whispers to you, eyes watching your blissed out face, “almost there, sweetheart.”

Leon goes back to mouthing and sucking at your breasts, his other hand moving down to rub and flick your clit as he stretches you open. He fucks his fingers into your soppy cunt a few times then takes his hand away. 

“Noo,” you whimper, eyes watering in frustration, “daddy, please.”

“Shhh, babygirl,” he soothes, lifting himself up until he’s kneeling over your naked body, “daddy’s about to make you feel so good.”

You watch as he slides his underwear off and tosses them to her floor. He then grabs his dick in one hand and presses the head to your leaking hole. Tears slip from your eyes as he pushes more of his fat cock into your virgin pussy. He groans, stilling to give you time to adjust and stretch around his dick. 

He brings a hand to wipe the tears away from your cheeks, “Doing so good for daddy. So wet and tight. Gonna love popping this cherry, baby.”

You whine up at him, head feeling cottony from the arousal swallowing your thoughts. He presses more and more of his cock inside your tight cunt, making you hiss from the pinching displeasure when he breaks your hymen.  

Your nails break skin, digging your fingers into the muscles of his biceps. 

“God, that’s it,” he murmurs down at you, stormy blue eyes practically black with want, “this virgin pussy’s all mine now, sweet girl. Gonna stay that way too.”

You only gasp and pant, eyes rolling back in your head as he keeps bullying his cock deeper and deeper into your cunt. 

“That’s right, baby,” he coos mockingly at you, “just need me to take care of you, show you what you need.”

He grinds his cock deep into your spasming walls, the fat leaky tip kissing the opening to your womb. You whine, static filling your brain at the pain the head of his dick causes as he keeps pressing against your cervix. 

“Daddy, h-hurts,” you wheeze, voice thin and reedy, “too much.”

“Hush,” he growls, a low rumble in his chest, “you just have to get used to it. Daddy’s gotta be this deep to feel good.”

Your legs kick out and he settles his weight down on you more, pressing your body firmly into the mattress. His pelvis pushes onto your swollen clit making you buck upwards with a low cry. 

“There you go,” he praises, slotting his  fingers with yours so he can press your hands above your head and hold them down, “just gotta train this cute pussy to take daddy’s cock.”

He chuckles as he noses along your hairline and drops a kiss to your forehead, “And look at that, you take daddy so well.”  

You blearily look down your body and see the bulge in your lower belly; you watch as Leon pulls out halfway and the bulge disappears before reappearing when he pushes back into your cunt. 

Your head drops back down to the bed as you moan loudly, tears streaming from your eyes as the pain and pleasure blend into a kaleidoscope of feelings. 

“Daddy,” you hiccup, “daddy, d-daddy.”

“I know,” he purrs in your ear, smoky and dark, “daddy’s going to cum in you, baby. Give you a little brother or sister. Wouldn’t you like that, sweetheart?”

At those words, your pussy spasms around his throbbing cock; you hiccup a sob as tears slip down your face, “C-can’t, that’s w-wrong, daddy.”

He licks the salty trail of tears on your cheeks as buries his cock into your pussy again making you squeal at the sharp pleasure.

“Aww my stupid sweet girl,” he huffs a mean laugh into your ear, pressing his dick as deep as he can inside you, grinding it harshly against your cervix, “just so fucking dumb. Daddy does whatever he wants.”

With a throaty growl he presses all the way into you, bottoming out in your wet, silky heat, “And you’re not even on birth control, sweetheart. So if I want to give you a baby, it’ll be easy for it to take.”

His thick cock splits you open, pussy greedily sucking him into your body as you cry harder because of Leon’s treatment. That dark part of you loves how he’s treating you—using you, breeding your pussy how he wants. 

You draw a deep shuddering breath, hands clawing at his biceps, “Noo, daddy, can’t—“

He’s thrusting into you still, making you feel split open. Your cunt feels raw and overstretched, his cock bullying deep into you on every thrust to the point it feels like your cervix will be bruised later.

“Knocking you up would be perfect, baby,” he growls burying himself balls deep and stilling, “keep you tied to daddy for the rest of your life.” 

You keen high in your throat, a broken moan slipping from your lips as your walls flutter and grip Leon’s cock. Clit throbbing with wanton disgust at how hot that makes you feel. 

He goes back to slow deep thrusts, dragging his cock all the way out until his fat tip is spreading your hole open then rocking deep into your cunt; you can barely breathe with how deep he’s fucking you, tears still slipping from your eyes. 

Leon moves each of your legs up over his shoulders, ramping up his pace to drill his cock harshly into your squelching pussy. 

“So fucking juicy, babygirl,” he pants, hips humping down into you roughly, “just listen to that fucking pussy cry for me.”

His pelvis presses onto your clit just right with every thrust while he rails you into the bed. You feel your orgasm ramp up with every thrust and slow drag across your swollen clit. 

Your thighs spasm where they’re pressed against Leon’s shoulders and your toes curl as your orgasm starts to hit you; a tidal wave drowning all your senses, your pussy clamping down on his cock like a vice. Your blood rushes to your head, dampening any noise, as you thrash underneath Leon’s body; a low, keening cry from your panting mouth has Leon growling in satisfaction. 

“Good girl, so sweet for me baby,” he groans, grinding himself into your clenching hole, “so god damn tight.” 

You choke out a moan, hands squeezing onto his until your joints creak, feeling overwrought as you keep cumming around his cock. 

“Fuck,” he hisses into your ear, hips stuttering, “going to make me cum early, sweetheart. Squeezing me too fucking tight.”

He presses your hands down into the bedding as his hips rabbit into your puffy cunt; half a dozen thrusts like that and he groans, cumming deep in your raw pussy. 

“So good,” he presses a wet kiss on your cheek, “love filling you up, babygirl.”

He drags his mouth from your cheek to kiss you, tongue licking into your panting mouth. You kiss back messily, feeling his cock kick and throb as he steadily spurts rope after rope of hot jizz in your pulsating cunt. 

Leon’s dick finally starts to soften and he slowly lets himself slip out of your wet heat. He sits back on his haunches and watches hungrily as his cum leaks from your hole, pussy looking swollen and puffy.

Your brain is empty, sick satisfaction radiating from your used body. Whimpering, you lay there as Leon swipes his fingers through the mix of cum and slick dripping from your cunt and feeds it slowly back into your drippy hole. 

His empty smile makes you feel small as he pets your hair back, “Daddy’s going to take such good care of you, baby. I promise.”