#as all my friends know sleep isn’t real

[say-al0e]

Hypothetical

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Eddie asks a lot of hypothetical questions, just to hear your answer. The answer to this question was more real than you wanted to admit. Warnings: Tiny bit of self-doubt, idiots to lovers. Pairing: Eddie x fem!Reader (think it could be read as GN but just to be safe) Word Count: 2.7k

“Would you fuck my clone?”

The question, asked as casually as if he were inquiring about the weather - though, to his defense, he’d asked weirder - rose above the sound of chainsaws emanating from the television and earned a confused frown as you spared him a sideways glance.

Eddie’s attention remained mostly on Leatherface, chasing unsuspecting victims, but you caught his curious glance as you laughed. Those were the first words spoken in over an hour, certainly a record for your verbose best friend, and you couldn’t help but ask, “What the fuck, Eddie?”

“What?” From his position at the end of the couch, feet propped on the coffee table and head lolled onto the cushions, he shrugged. “It’s a simple question. Would you fuck my clone?”

A beat of silence passed, in which you realized this was one of those moments where Eddie wouldn’t let the question go until he was given a satisfying answer, and you sighed. “I don’t think that’s the question, Eds,” you countered. “Isn’t it usually, ‘would you fuck your own clone’?”

With a dismissive wave of his hand and a scoff, Eddie finally sat up and turned his full attention to you, screaming teenagers and chainsaws forgotten now that he had something better to capture his attention. “That one’s boring,” he reasoned. “We know all the arguments. This is a different question, new arguments.”

“I think we’re fine without arguing,” you teased, reaching for the nearly half-empty bowl of popcorn. “Just watch the movie, Eddie.”

From the corner of your eye, you watched as a look you couldn’t quite recognize flickered across Eddie’s face. However, just as quickly as it appeared, it was covered with a raised brow and a teasing grin. “We’ve seen it a hundred times already. Anyway, what I’m getting from this is, you would fuck my clone. Interesting.”

Eddie did little to hide his amusement as you rolled your eyes and tossed a piece of popcorn at him. “I didn’t say that,” you argued, despite yourself - despite knowing that you were walking into a conversation you weren’t yet sure you wanted any part of.

A hum, unconvinced, met your ears as he reached for the bowl and plucked it from your hands. “Okay,” he prompted, ignoring your outraged huff. “So, tell me. Would you?”

There were a handful of ways you could respond to his probing. The first, shut down his question with a point blank refusal, phrased as a light-hearted joke that did little damage to his ego and even less to your already fragile nerves. The second, play into his game and debate the pros and cons of sleeping with his clone, the ethical ramifications, the conversation he clearly wanted. Or, the third, admit to him a fact that you’d concealed since the summer of 1984.

Any way you could have him, real Eddie or clone, you would take it.

That was, solidly, not in the lead. So, you opted for the second approach.

“Jeez, Eds,” you sighed, stealing popcorn from the bowl now resting on his lap. “I don’t know. Maybe,” you conceded. “Depends, I guess. Is he, like, total you or some weird, kinda fucked up clone? Like, is he totally evil or incapable of coherent thought or, I don’t, off somehow?” As an afterthought, you joked, “More so than the real you, anyway.”

“Rude.” There was no bite in the declaration, only a fond amusement that made your chest ache, but you did your best to ignore it as he hummed. “Clone’s a totally normal, complete carbon copy. Everything about him is exactly the same, down to the last hair.”

“So, no aspirations to rule the world or become, like, the next Leatherface?”

Eddie grinned. “That’s my backup plan, you know, if music doesn’t work. So, guess it’d be his, too,” he admitted, only breaking into laughter when you grabbed a pillow and smacked him with it. “Seriously,” he relented, “nothing weird. Just another me. Everything you know and love, times two.”

With a sigh, you lifted your legs onto the couch and hugged your knees to your chest. “Then… I don’t know,” you admitted, voice barely audible over the screams still echoing from the television. “Maybe?”

“It’s a yes or no question, babe,” he reminded you, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed as he studied you. “Shouldn’t be this hard.”

That look, the one that you had difficulty placing, returned and despite your uncertainty as to what it was, you were certain that you didn’t like it very much. Doubt, or maybe hurt, were the closest emotions you could identify though neither made much sense to you in the moment.

Still, rather than ask, you rolled your eyes. “What’s the point of this conversation?”

There was none, it was just for fun - a debate, like the thousands of others you’d had over the course of your friendship - and Eddie said a much as he shrugged. “Isn’t one,” he declared, offering you the last handful of popcorn. “I just want to know if you’d fuck my clone.”

When you refused, he returned the bowl back to the coffee table before reaching for your ankle. With a gentle tug, he encouraged you to rest your feet on his lap as his fingers began to tap a beat that only existed inside his head against your skin. “Why does it matter?”

Eddie shrugged once more, though this time, he glanced at the television rather than you as he answered. “Because I asked and you always answer.”

“I do,” you relented, sighing as you also spared the screen a glance. “Well, what’s the right answer, then? There has to be one.”

This time, he shook his head as the tapping of his fingers grew a touch faster. “Right answer’s the true one.”

For a moment, you simply studied Eddie. His side profile, bathed in the warm glow of the television, was the picture of concentration as he watched a scene you’d seen a thousand times before. Only, you knew him well enough to see the telltale signs that he was in no way paying as close of attention as he should’ve been.

The slightest tick in his jaw, the quick bite of the inside of his cheek, the delayed blinking; all signs that he was waiting more intently for your answer than he wanted you to believe.

Rejection - no matter how hypothetical - never seemed possible when it came to Eddie. So, you sighed and conceded, “Okay, fine. Sure, I’d fuck your clone.”

Eddie hummed, seemingly unsurprised and feigning nonchalance as he nodded as if the answer confirmed something he already suspected. And there were a thousand ways in which you expected him to respond; none of which could’ve compared to him declaring, “So, you’d fuck my clone but not me.”

Again, rejection was not an option. However, you had no intention of admitting to him that you’d wanted him for years. There was no world in which you could see yourself admitting to him that you thought he was beautiful - with his doe eyes and playful grin. Telling him how you felt would likely end in an awkward silence at best and a ruined friendship at worst.

So, you opted for a careful denial. “What? I didn’t say that.”

“But you’re not saying anything to the contrary,” he countered, turning his head to spare you a cursory glance. There was something there, beneath the amused glimmer in his eyes, that unnerved you - something far more serious than you were expecting - but as quickly as it appeared, it was gone.

When you shot him an unimpressed glance, cutting your eyes at him before returning your attention to the television, he shrugged, teasing grin never faltering. “I never said that. I answered a hypothetical and you’re reading into it.”

Eddie met your perhaps too sharp denial with a raised brow as he gave up the guise of watching the movie. “So, am I wrong?”

“Would you stop putting words into my mouth?” You huffed as you reached for the bowl of popcorn, desperate for something to distract yourself from making a confession you knew you would regret. “I never said that. All I said was that I’d fuck your clone, I answered the question.”

“Okay, fine. You never said you wouldn’t fuck me but it’s never happened. Never even sort of, almost, maybe happened,” he reminded you - as if you needed it. “So, you would fuck my clone but not me. Why?”

“Because we’re friends, Eddie,” you shot back, resisting the urge to roll your eyes as you popped a piece of popcorn into your mouth. “I’ve known you since I was ten.” 

The excuse sounded weak in your own ears, but it was all you could muster without breaking down and confessing that you would, in fact, sleep with him. If only he’d ask. If only it wouldn’t destroy your friendship. If only it was that simple.

Still, Eddie was relentless. “But my clone would have all my memories, totally the same person,” he reminded you. “He’d be your friend, just like me. But you’d fuck him. So, why not me?”

“This is stupid,” you huffed. “Why do you care?” He’d never pushed so hard, not in pursuit of a hypothetical question meant to pass the time, and you were genuinely curious why he seemed so interested in your answer, or your lack thereof.

“I’m a naturally curious person,” he argued, shrugging as he squeezed your ankle. “It’s just a stupid hypothetical. C’mon, why would you hypothetically fuck my clone but not me?”

There was little doubt in your mind that he would continue pushing until he got the answer he was looking for, especially as it seemed that he’d already made up his mind that he was right, so you shifted yourself in a huff. With your legs now hugged to your chest, eyes on the television to avoid meeting his gaze as you admitted in a snap, “God, okay. I’d fuck your clone because it’s the closest I’d get to being with you without actually destroying our entire relationship. Happy with that answer?”

“What?” Eddie sounded genuinely surprised and you could feel the warmth of his gaze burning into your skin as you purposely kept your gaze on the television.

“If your clone is you, all your memories, your mannerisms, your looks, I’d fuck your clone because then I’d get to see what it’s like to be with you,” you admitted, words escaping despite every fiber of your being telling you to be quiet. “I’d get everything without the risk of losing you when I fuck it all up.”

Eddie shifted closer then, careful to keep a few inches of space between you but no longer nestled into the opposite edge of the couch as he tipped his head to get a better glimpse of your face. “What do you mean, when you fuck it up?”

Frustrated tears - at admitting a secret you swore would follow you to the grave, at allowing him to get under your skin when he was simply asking an innocent question, at allowing yourself to get so worked up over something so simple - stung at the backs of your eyes as you huffed. “I’m… you know me, Eddie. I don’t,” you sighed, cutting yourself off, before taking a deep breath. “I’m prickly. I don’t do well with romance. I freak out and run,” you reminded him. “Even if you felt the same, if we worked out enough to not have our friendship go down in flames, there’s still a chance I’d fuck it up and I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to run from you.”

“Hey.” Eddie shifted even closer, close enough for you to feel the warmth of his body, and sighed when you refused to glance at him. Regardless, he exclaimed, “That’s why we’d be different.”

“What?” Of all the things you expected him to say, that was the last. With furrowed brows and tears still lining your lashes, you tipped your head to glance at him. “Why?”

“Because,” he began, meeting your eyes for the first time in what felt like hours, “when you try to run, I know what you’re doing. When you get all weird or try to push me away, I know it’s not really you wanting me to go. I know you. I get you, just like you get me.”

“Eddie.”

Of all the ways you’d expected him to react, of all the ways you expected him to acknowledge your feelings for him, returning them was not on the list. For years, you’d convinced yourself that there was no way he would return your feelings, there was no way you would ever be able to acknowledge those feelings without losing your best friend, and there was still a deep-rooted fear that, despite his seeming certainty that his understanding would make a difference, any attempt at a relationship would only end in heartbreak.

That didn’t seem to matter to him as he pressed on. “I’m serious. It’s us,” he continued, this time reaching out to press a hand to your knee. “It’s always been us, always will be us. There’s nothing you can do to get rid of me. Not now.”

“You can’t know that,” you sighed, though it was nowhere near as confident as you hoped it would be. “We can’t see the future.”

“We can’t,” he agreed. “Not yet, anyway, but the nineties seem promising.” When you rolled your eyes, barely suppressing a smile, he laughed. “But that’s the fun part. We do our best to make our own future. It’s always going to be together, might as well come clean and really be together instead of making ourselves miserable pretending.” Before you could respond, offer another half-hearted refusal, he pressed on. “What do we have to lose?”

“Everything.”

Eddie shook his head, completely unconvinced that anything bad would come of allowing yourselves to try. “I don’t believe that. Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out. We always do.”

“How can you be so certain?” You wished you had an ounce of Eddie’s certainty, his true belief that the pair of you could make it, but you were skeptical. Neither of you had much luck in life, neither of you had much outside of one another, and losing him would be far too great.

However, you were tired of pretending that a shared future was not what you wanted. 

The possibility that your future could go up in flames, that you could destroy the best friendship you’d ever had, worried you. It kept you awake at night. But now knowing that Eddie felt the same, that he wanted the same future you did, there was no way you could turn him down.

For all your fear, for all your hesitance, saying no was not an option.

“Because we’ve been in love for years and nothing bad has happened yet.” He said it as if it was the most obvious answer he could give, as if it made all the sense in the world, and if you really stopped to think about it, it did.

“Can you promise me something?”

Eddie shifted ever closer, nodding easily as you reached for his hand. “Anything.”

“Can you promise me that no matter what happens, we’ll always be friends? Even if we don’t work out, if something happens, promise me that we’ll still be there for each other.”

“I promise. Nothing hypothetical about that,” he agreed, corner of his mouth lifting when you offered a soft smile.

The moment stretched around you, nothing existed outside of the pair of you as Eddie tugged you into his side. It was easy, natural, and you melted into his touch despite the fear lingering in the back of your mind.

There was a brief worry that this could be a mistake. That allowing yourselves to intertwine your futures so thoroughly would only end in heartbreak, but he was right. For as long as you could remember, it had been you and Eddie. There was nothing that had managed to wedge you apart yet. And pretending had no guarantee of working in the long term.

So, you decided to dive in to the deep end and allow yourself to truly fall. There was no situation, real or hypothetical, in which he would allow you to hit the ground.

No matter what, you knew that he would be there to catch you. 

________________________________________________________

Author's Note: I spent my entire day in meetings. All the meetings. So many meetings. I also have a dentist appointment on Wednesday and I am Terrified. So have this.

Taglist: @x-avantgarde-x, @thisisparadisemylove, @eddiesprincess, @slvdsjjk, @munsonlover, @tasmbestspdrman, @urofficial-cyberslut, @jxngwhore, @hopelesslylosttheway, @meaganjm, @lazuli-leenabride, @deiondraaa, @piscesmesss, @glowyskiess, @kiszkathecook, @missryerye, @solarrexplosion, @ofherscarlettwitchways, @lovedandleft-haunted, @trappedinlimbo15, @sweetiekitten, @bookfrog242, @gwendolynmary, @sage-bun, @zealouslibrariesparadiselight, @castiels-lilass, @tojis-little-brat, @emmah787, @theworldsendxx, @asuperconfusedgirl, @flores-and-sunshine, @passi0np1t, @laurathefahrradsattel, @hellf1reclub, @slut4yourmom, @niko-04, @hannirose-loves-you, @mrs-eddie-munson, @screambabe, @vllowe, @ryswritingrecord, @cheriebondy, @ryswritingrecord, @thewitchofthewilds140, @bootlegmothman420, @maruushkka, @honeymoonpython, @keenesbeans, @jess-bonn, @sammysinger04, @khaoticken21, @denkis-slut, @spiderman-berries, @lotus-es, @amortiff, @stardust-galaxies, @ure-a-sunflower, @1-800-ch3rry, @ladybeewritethings, @ynbutbetter, @hunnybunimdun, @breathinfive, @s-u-t, @s4ntacarlal0stk1d, @rae-iin, @pennamesgame, @stefans-wife, @voldieshorts, @frankie-mercury, @bbymochi1, @serendiipty, @saturnsworld01, @eddiemunson1sstuff​, @valthevalkyrie-main​, @crying-caro​, @inglourious-imagines​

#stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things fluff #eddie munson fluff #v's fics

[lovemewednesdays]

monster trucks and a monster crush.

(Based off of this post from the lovely @ebongawk. If I had the spoons, I'd probably flesh this out a bit more, but for right now, it's just a bullet fic.)

The movie comes out in July.

Eddie and Chrissy aren’t dating yet, but they might as well be, seeing how they spend most of their time together.

Chrissy has been trying to figure out Eddie on a real date all summer with no luck, and then she sees an ad for Maximum Overdrive in the paper.

It was perfect – Chrissy doesn’t like horror that much, but she can stomach it for an hour and a half, especially if she got to look at Emilio Estevez in the process, and Eddie loves Stephen King, she’s seen the beaten-up paperbacks on his floor.

They’re on the couch in the trailer. Something’s playing on the TV. Chrissy’s not paying attention.

“Do you wanna go to the movies tomorrow?” she blurts out. "There's a new Emilio Estevez movie.” Eddie makes a face and Chrissy shoves him lightly. “It’s directed by Stephen King.”

“Oh, yeah. Heard something about that. It’s based on one of his short stories. Yeah, that’s cool, let’s do it.”

Chrissy smiles and snuggles back into his side. She feels like she’s floating.

It isn’t until Edde’s driving her back home that it hits her like a brick wall – what if Eddie doesn’t know it’s a date? They go to the movies all the time. He probably thinks it’s no big deal! It’s not! It’s the biggest deal!

She works herself up, her nerves getting the best of her, and when they pull up to her house, she jumps out and twirls around.

“BythewayImeanttomorrowtobeadate." His eyes widen as comprehension dawns and Chrissy has to leave. “Okay, bye!”

She sprints inside her house, leaving a shell-shocked Eddie behind.

(Chrissy doesn’t sleep well that night.)

(Neither does Eddie.)

The next day, Chrissy is ready to renege on the whole thing. They can just be friends. It was a stupid idea anyway, why would Eddie Munson ever date her?

The van pulls up, and as she makes her way over, Eddie pops out of the driver’s side and rushes over to open the passenger side door.

Chrissy stops. He’s wearing a plain black t-shirt under his leather jacket and his jeans don’t have any holes in them. It looks like he even tried to comb his hair.

He’s holding flowers.

Eddie's smile is nervous. “Wayne says it’s always a good idea to bring your girl flowers on a date.”

Chrissy smiles and takes the flowers.

The ride to the theater was normal. They talk about Corroded Coffin’s next gig, about the kids at Chrissy's summer job, and if Wayne would actually go on that fishing trip he’s been talking about for months. 

Once he parks, Eddie jumps out of the car and opens the passenger door. “Milady.” Chrissy takes his hand, gets out of the car, and they head toward the theater.

They’re almost to the door when Chrissy stops. Eddie stops, too.

They’re still holding hands.

“If, um…I know that – I know I didn’t let you respond yesterday, so I totally get it if you, um, don’t want it to be a date.”

She tries to pull her hand away, but Eddie tightens his grip.

“I was gathering the courage to do it myself, you know,” he says with a wry smile. “You beat me to the punch.” He kisses the back of her hand. “C’mon. You gotta go drool over Estevez.” Chrissy laughs and lets him lead her towards the theater.

The movie is terrible. Schlocky. Corny. Chrissy’s almost embarrassed for suggesting it, but Eddie’s arm is around her and he’s laughing.

(He loses it after the baseball coach dies by demonic soda cans. The kid getting run over by a steamroller right after didn’t help. Chrissy elbows him and Eddie flashes her a grin. “Kid’s fine, Cunningham. The grass’s soft.”)

The credits roll and Eddie and Chrissy walk out into the lobby; Chrissy hides her face. “I’m sorry!”

Eddie’s face twists in confusion. “Why are you sorry?”

“The movie was so bad! I don’t want our first date to be at a bad movie.”

Eddie takes her hands in his. “I had the time of my life watching that movie with you.” 

“Really?” 

“Oh, yeah! Watching a batshit-crazy movie about possessed eighteen-wheelers with my girl? Best day ever.”

Chrissy laughs and lifts up on her toes to kiss him. When she pulls back, Eddie grins widely and pulls her back in.

They get chased out of the theater by a miserable college kid in a neon orange vest grumbling about teenage hormones.

(When they make it out to the parking lot, Eddie stops her before she gets in. He lets go of her hand and splays himself against the hood of the van. “Now, Sheila. I know I just said that Chrissy was my girl, but I love you, too, and if you ever get possessed by an alien comet, please, please don’t kill us.”

Chrissy laughs and gets in the passenger seat as Eddie yells dramatically to be careful.

Eddie makes the movie his entire personality for weeks – whenever he sees an eighteen-wheeler, he screams and pulls Chrissy behind him. Sheila breaks down at the entrance to Loch Nora one night and he does his best Wanda June impression: “You can’t do this! WE MADE YOU!”

He takes the younger boys to see it and they join in on the theatrics. Steve and Nancy are ready to pull their hair out, but Chrissy loves it.

When the movie comes out on VHS, Eddie buys it immediately. They watch it every year on their anniversary.)

All in all, not a bad first date.

#hellcheer #chrissy cunningham #eddie munson #obsessed with them #stranger things #nic writes

[daily-yttd-something]

Day 161: healthy amounts of sleep

#as all my friends know sleep isn’t real #your turn to die #yttd #daily yttd #kimi ga shine #daily kimi ga shine #daily your turn to die #soup hiyori #sou yttd #yttd sou #soap hiyori #shin zucchini #shin yttd #yttd shin #shin tsukimi

[pepprs]

the among us thing makes sense really

#extremely stressful weeks at work + even more stressful week of work this week + first therapy session tmrrw + reliving the horrors while fi #filling out my client history form in excessive detail + close family friend found out she probably has c*ncer + getting shit sleep + bad #redacteds thst i took harder than i was supposed to +ever present pressure of knowing ineed to learn to drive and move out = i burn an #entire weekend doing nothing but playing among us and pokemon go and looking up everything there possibly is to know about them. interacting #with media considered to be cringe / outdated in the year 2023 to cope and by cope it mean #i mean pretend i don’t have problems or a life at all. which probably isn’t helping my sense that nothing that is happening in my life is #actually real / that im just having a long drawn out dream while still in undergrad very much. lol #delete later #ask to tag #also 14th anniversary of a certain major life event this week 😃👎

[disneyprincessdxminatrix]

wallowing in self pity as an after work activity.

#I also watched tv and almost fell asleep #I woke up with a bad stomachache last night which kept me awake for a little over an hour before it got better #so I didn’t sleep enough and went to work #and then received a text that my boyfriend wouldn’t be home tonight cause he’s meeting from friends #and of course I’m not invited because one of his friends is my ex I keep shit taking about (rightfully I might add) #saw him for like one minute after his work before he left again #I’m really fucking sad rn still because as I told some friends #one of my Guinea pigs died just yesterday #and I’m tired and #I’m hungry #and yes my boyfriend offered to bring me food but I don’t even know when he will be back and he’s probably going to bring cake which isn’t #real dinner food anyway #my stuff #give it half an hour and I’ll be better I hope #maybe she least good enough to make myself something to eat #at least my cat his here he always comes when I’m crying #edit: I think the part about tonight that hurts the most is being invited but not being invited #one of the boys sent a message to the group chat if anyone wanted to join #and idk if all of them know #but my bf knows I won’t go anywhere near my ex #even though I haven’t seen one of the other friends there in a awhile and wouldn’t loved to see him #so it’s like #being invited #but not really #cause I can’t go there #I’d feel sick #I already do feel sick knowing he talks to this despicable piece of shit

[tonycries]

Great With Kids? (You Can Have Mine) - C.K.

Synopsis. When your younger brother gets a new babysitter, only two questions linger on your mind: 1. How come your parents didn’t trust you in charge? 2. How dare the sexy babysitter be so perfect - it made you want some attention too.

Pairings. Choso Kamo x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, babysitter! Choso, male masturbation, voyeurism (from reader), Choso with nipple piercings and eyeliner hngh, unprotected, 69, choking, overstim, oral (male + female receiving), creampie, dirty talk, friends-to-lovers, Choso is down BAD and always has been, mentioned younger brother, swearing. 

Word count. 9.0k

A/N. Gojo longfic next time because I miss my pretty blue-eyed princess.

Your younger brother’s new babysitter was hot.

With a capital h. 

Scarily hot, in fact, that it made you wonder why the hell people stopped having babysitters past the age of 14.

Ah, Choso Kamo, the ever-elusive eldest son of the Itadori’s from next door. You still remember the first time you met him - well, mostly. 

The world was rocking gently at exactly 12:34AM after a night out with your old high school friends. And so were you, stumbling tipsily into your driveway, soaking up the warm summer air. 

Fumbling with the doorbell, you fully expected your parents to still be away on that extravagant couples’ cruise they’d won - one that probably cost more than your tuition.

Which also meant you expected the old lady from down the street to be babysitting tonight. Still wide awake and absolutely bursting at the seams to give you a detailed rundown about the neighborhood tea - who’s divorcing who, and her top suspects for who stole her prized garden gnome. 

What you certainly did not expect was for that door to swing open and to find yourself face-to-face with the most ridiculously attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on. Shirtless.

Dazed, your eyes involuntarily sweep his figure from head to toe - taking in every inch of those dark, sleep-mussed locks falling effortlessly around his slightly smudged eyeliner, all the way down to the chiseled- oh god, were those nipple piercings?

Alas, the universe isn’t on your side, and you don’t get to confirm, because suddenly the door slams right in your face, almost rattling off its hinges at the force. The sound echoes in your ears as you blink in disbelief at what the fuck that was. Was that real - was he real? 

You double check the address you’ve known for years - just in case - because, hell, if you were dreaming then this was a damn good one. Taking a deep breath, you try to focus on something that won’t make your head spin before reaching for the door again.

But before your finger could even graze the doorbell, it cracks open once more. The same mysterious man towered before you, this time - you note, with a tinge of disappointment - wearing a snug t-shirt that still doesn’t do much to hide that godly physique. 

“Not that m’complaining, but who’re you and why’re ya in my house?” you manage to slur out, voice betraying the shiver that runs down your spine at his intense gaze. He simply leans against the doorframe, arms crossed and expression unreadable. 

“Choso,” he drawls lightly, eyes never leaving your face. Shit, even his voice was hot. 

You nod slowly, mind racing as you blearily try to remember just where you’d heard that name before. Some family friend? Nah, you’d know him if that was the case. An actor? God, he sure had the looks. 

Mercifully sensing your struggle, he clears his throat, snapping you out of your drunken reverie. “Not surprised you haven’t seen me around, sweetheart, but my parents live next door.” he offers, tone laced with amusement and something else you can’t place. “M’babysitting your brother for tonight.”

You almost don’t hear the second part of his explanation, because it hits you like a ton of bricks - oh shit, this was Choso? Choso either-a-hallucination-or-a-vampire Kamo? 

In all your years of having the Itadoris as your neighbors, you’d only seen fleeting glimpses of their eldest son - a flash of black hair at the window, or a sculpted, tattooed arm waving off Yuji at the doorway. And, well, you didn’t know what exactly you’d anticipated. You just didn’t expect him to be so…hot. Or stand half-naked in front of you.

God, he made you more dizzy than the alcohol. 

“Damn,” you mutter under your breath, more to yourself than anything. Yet Choso still hears, quirking an eyebrow, a ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Everything alright there?” he hums, the hint of a tease in his tone. Smug bastard.

You nod your head, clutching onto the doorframe for support as you lean in closer. “Mhm, perfect.” Wait- was that a blush dusting his face? Damn, this dream just keeps getting better and better.

Liquid courage coursing through you, you bat your lashes, too tipsy to even attempt a wink, “Well, Choso, let me know if ya need any help babysitting, jus’ know I’m always down to-” 

And then - perhaps to save you from the embarrassment of an awful pickup line - that’s when the universe decides to remind you of exactly how many kamikaze shots you’ve downed. The world lurches beneath you. Your hands scramble for something - anything - solid.

Ah, falling down really does feel good, especially when the ground is so warm, and soft. Smelling faintly of vanilla, with a hint of sunshine. 

And then it’s all black. 

To match his eyes.

---

The smell of vanilla still lingers in your mind as you slowly pry your eyes open, squinting against the harsh morning sunlight streaming in through your window. Groaning, you feel as though you’ve been run over by a truck. Five of them, in fact. 

Trying to will away the pounding headache, you bury yourself deeper into the snug covers of…your bed…that you’ve been tucked into? 

Oh shit. Sitting up with a gasp, you hastily try to rub away the sleep from your pointedly makeup-less eyes, remnants of last night now flooding back to you with a surge of embarrassment. 

Choso. Shirtless. Babysitting. Shirtless. But most importantly - your awful display of drunken flirting. The man appears once in a blue moon and you hit on him? Perfect. Great. Wonderful. 

And just as you’re entertaining the idea of convincing your parents to move neighborhoods, you realize with a jolt that he must’ve been the one that carried you up here and took care of you. Even after all of that. 

With a sigh, you rub your temples, wincing as it throbs at the laughter carrying from downstairs - one of them so decidedly Choso. Deep voice ringing in your ears, you can almost feel the lingering traces of his strong arms holding you flush against his chest, or the warm hands gently wiping off your eye shadow.

And it seems Choso had a penchant for interrupting your barely-lucid thoughts, because the door creaks open, ripping through the heavy silence in your room. Heart in your throat, you startle as Choso carefully steps into your room, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“G’morning,” he says, voice so gentle that some small, strange part of you thinks you could listen to it forever. “Feeling any better?”

You offer him a sheepish grin, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks at the memory of your drunken antics. “Yeah, I think so. Thanks for... well, everything.”

Chuckling softly, his gaze softens as he steps closer, taking in your slightly-disheveled appearance. “It was the least I could do, sweetheart. Now, c’mon, your brother and I are making pancakes.” 

You fidget nervously under his gaze, suddenly feeling self-conscious even as he turns to leave the room at your silence. Say it, you idiot. Say it. 

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, words tumbling out in a rush. “I didn’t mean to... y’know, act like a Victorian man seeing a woman’s ankles for the first time-” 

“It’s al-”

 “I swear I’ve seen ankles-”

A large hand cradling your cheek, his thick rings searingly cold against your chin as he tilts your chin up to meet his warm gaze - and those suspiciously red cheeks. “S’alright, sweetheart. I didn’t mind.” 

And, well, if this was his way of shutting you up then by God was it effective. Because you didn’t trust yourself to speak even as Choso gives you an easy smile. Even as he withdraws his hand, the air thick with something you were too hungover to overthink about. 

Not until he turns back to the door, flashing you a teasing smile, “Besides, it was kinda cute.”

And with that, Choso steps through the door with the audacity of someone that hadn’t uttered words that sent your mind reeling. 

As the creak of the door echoes behind him, Choso’s warm touch still sears into your skin. Something hot and prickly pooling in your stomach. Only one thought rings clear in your hazy, still-hungover mind - one that makes your cheeks flare: this was going to be a very interesting summer.

You just didn’t realize how interesting it would be. Not until two weeks, four days, and sixteen hours after you first met Choso. 

It starts out innocently enough, taking the early shift at your internship, volunteering to help with the chores - you find yourself subconsciously making excuses to be around him whenever he’s scheduled to babysit.

You’ve probably learned everything there is to know about the man by now - from the way he likes his eggs (sunny side up) to that time he accidentally dyed his brother’s hair neon pink while trying out a recipe for homemade hair dye. 

Likewise, Choso happens to be the only one who knows that you were the one that accidentally caused that flood in your dorm that required five floors and two plumbers to resolve. 

At this point, Choso’s at your house more often than not - where Choso is, there is you, and where you are, there is Choso. And your brother…and sometimes Yuji, but semantics.

“Semantics” are probably why you find yourself rushing home straight from your internship, ignoring every invitation for an after-work drink - to see your brother, of course. No other reason - definitely not because of the way Choso will inevitably be there too. Or because of the way his smile makes something strange coil in your stomach. Or-

Okay, maybe you speedwalked up your driveway faster than usual a little bit because of Choso. But as you’ve said - semantics.

Yet, sometimes you even think there’s a familiar flicker of something more in those dark eyes.

…

Nahhh. 

Stepping into the yard, the air thick with the scent of freshly cut grass and the deafening sounds of splashing, a smile tugs at your lips at the awfully wholesome view that greets you.

Your brother and Yuji are locked in a fierce battle, water guns being brandished like the most seasoned warriors.

And Choso - towering over everyone else - was at the epicenter of the chaos, his laughter booming over the commotion. Shirtless. Again. 

His bare, tattooed torso gleams in the light, muscles flexing with each movement as if sculpted by the gods themselves. Droplets of water glistening on his dark hair like diamonds in the fading light.

Traitorously, your cheeks burn as you step closer, desperately trying to rip your gaze from the milky abs peeking out and the tantalizing glint of metal winking so sinfully at you under the sun.

So he does have nipple piercings.

God, you have to get your mind out of the gutter.

As you approach, Choso’s grin widens, a playful sparkle dancing in his eyes. Without hesitation, he scoops up a large water balloon and takes aim, launching it with frightening accuracy in your direction.

The icy water hits you before the realization, and you squeal in surprise as the balloon connects right with your chest, seeping into your shirt. Glancing down with a startled laugh, you realize a moment too late that your once-pristine white shirt is now completely see-through. 

Heat rushes to your cheeks, but the damage has been done. Smug bastard, you think, glancing up at Choso, slightly red-faced yet wearing a sly grin as he surveys the aftermath of his well-aimed shot.

“Shoulda just told me if you wanted a peak, you lecher. This shirt was expensive, y’know.” you call out, mock-glaring at the man that stood so infuriatingly beautifully in front of you.

Choso throws his head back in a laugh that makes something tingle all the way down from your toes to your burning cheeks. “Maybe you shoulda just kept your guard up, sweetheart,” 

You scoff, “Maybe you should stop being a distraction then.”

His grin widens, reaching for another nearby water balloon, “S’not my fault you’re so easily distracted. No need to be a sore loser.”

“Oh, it’s on now.”

“Well, well, looks like we have a new contender in the water war,” Choso remarks mischievously to the kids, gesturing towards you. Yeah, really smug bastard.

Ah, what the hell. This shirt was on sale anyway.

---

Now, Choso knows you’re hot - always has.

Ever since that first day he moved in next door, when he stumbled upon you sunbathing in your backyard wearing that sinful bikini. And, well, after hours of moving boxes upon boxes of Yuji’s dumbbells, the mere sight of you was like the gates of heaven spread wide open for him. 

But, especially now - all drenched and disheveled. Your shirt sticking to your curves like a second skin in all the ways that should be illegal - and also makes some strange part of him slightly jealous. Beaming smile directed right at him - shit, this might as well just be the final nail on his coffin. Death by you.

Amidst the chaos and confusion, you're a force to be reckoned with. Choso can barely tear his eyes off of you, breathless and victorious in pure adrenaline-fueled bravado, declaring “Beg for mercy and I’ll let you off easy, Choso.”

“Kinky, but absolutely not, sweetheart.”

Clutching a particularly large water balloon, raising your hand high high high - hurtling it straight at him with an unapologetic smirk, “Then, better run for your life.”

Oh? Maybe Choso was a masochi- what was that- 

A flash of his favorite lacy pink, your poor buttons faltering at the sheer force of your throw. Choso doesn’t even feel the cold splash! square on his chest as he’s drenched icily from head to toe. Too transfixed.

Too focused on trying not to make it obvious he’s mentally calculating the chances of your shirt coming off altogether…

Eyes locked on the sliver of soft skin peeking out at him. Only registering you and the traitorous rush of heat flooding his cheeks - and his cock - as he averts his gaze, internally smacking himself for letting his thoughts wander into such dangerous territory. 

Both thanking and cursing the gods above, Choso realizes with a pang that he’s not just screwed, he’s absolutely twisted, tangled, and tied up in knots.

So utterly screwed, in fact, that he probably needs to make a quick run to the bathroom now.

Like, right now.

Shit. 

With a muttered excuse of a bathroom break, each step more urgent than the last, Choso can’t help but wonder if the water balloon incident was some sort of cosmic punishment for his wandering thoughts. Some divine intervention from his ancestors for being such a pussy around you all these years.

And as he slams that bathroom door closed, bunches his pants bunched underneath his heavy balls, and takes his throbbing cock in his hands, Choso thinks he might just see the gates of heaven - well, at least he’ll be able to give his ancestors a piece of his mind there.

With a groan, he leans against the closed door, eyes scrunching shut as he takes his swollen cock in his fist. Leaking hot precum and glistening in the dim bathroom light. He grips the base tightly, pulsing and achingly hard for you. 

Cold rings searing against his skin, Choso wastes no time - wanting to get this over with and join you again more than anything - starting up a hasty, desperate pace up and down his length that makes his knees buckle. Tighter on the base, just teasing his furiously flushed tip. Pink. Pink to match your bra.

With you so sinfully soaked through, wearing that goddamn lacy bra out there, Choso wasn’t as strong a man to possibly get you out of his mind. He can’t help but imagine your sultry smile, how it would look wrapped around his cock. 

Arm straining now, a shiver runs down his spine - all the way to his throbbing erection. “Shit.” he breathes, “J-jus’ like that, sweetheart.” 

Head only filled with you, and your lips and you-

He milks his base tighter - would you take him all in one go? Look up at him with those beautiful, teary eyes as you choke around his cock? 

One hand pulls in urgent, jerky little moves that have his hips bucking into his fist. The other reaches up muffle the fucked out moans leaving his swollen lips. God, it would take everything it had in him to not fuck up into your pretty lil’ mouth. Watch you cock-drunk and taking him so well. 

Or maybe…

Eyes rolling to the back of his head, Choso fights back a groan as he reaches a hand up to teasingly thumb under his slit. Delicate beads of precum dripping onto the cold tile with a deafening drip! drip! drip! Smearing at the way he rubs maddening little circles under that one spot, grazing his sensitive veins. 

Maybe you’d be a a fucking tease - run your tongue under his pulsing head so agonizingly slow. Knowing you, you’d probably pull away as soon as he bucks his hips into your mouth. Lips swollen and glossed prettily with his precum as you whisper, “Now now, baby. If you don’t act like a good boy then you won’t get to cum~”

“Sh-shit, hah-” Choso thinks he’s going insane, he can practically hear your hums as you kiss along his length, tongue darting out to trace his throbbing veins so obscenely. Flicking at his sensitive head. Eyes sparkling - ready to positively devour him. 

All for him. 

It’s too much. 

“Ah- Ngh, fuck.” he moans hoarsely, letting out a low, fucked-out little call of your name. “More. Need m-more, sweetheart.” 

Body shuddering violently, sweat dripping from his brow, Choso’s thighs quiver as he fucks his fist at an almost-animalistic pace. Chasing his release with reckless abandon. 

Choso’s heart pounds wildly in his chest as he tries - and fails - to maintain control. Raspy whines of your name escape through the crevices of his fingers, cracking ever-so-slightly in a way he knows he’d be embarrassed about if he was in a better state of mind. 

Giving up his futile attempt, long fingers snake down below to cradle his balls in a way he knows you’d do better. Tugging and pulling at a jerky rhythm that matches his hand. 

Some tiny, practical part of his brain hopes - prays - that you won’t call off the water fight early and come up to check on him. He knows he should hurry up, he knows he’s fucked if you ever found out. Shit, he should bake you apology cookies tomorrow.

But fuck are so you perfect for him. Voice so pretty and eyes so warm as you turn your gaze to his undeserving self. He’d kill to see if you still look at him that way when - if - he absolutely ruins you.

Would you be able to take all of him? Would you pout adorably until he shoves his dick down your throat? Gagging as he hits the back of your throat over and over - oh how Choso would love to mess up your mascara. He’d fucking tattoo your lipstick stains on his dick if he could. 

“Cum f’me, baby.” you’d mewl, and shit would he burn down this entire world to hear you call him that. “Mm, fill me up with your cum, wan’ taste you, baby-”

“Fuck,” he curses again, voice thick with need, and tight balls twitching so sensitively. “Fuck...fuck fuck fuck. M’gonna cum- shit- gonna cum, sweetheart.”

You - all see-through white shirts and lacy bras that drive him wild. Giggling with the audacity of someone who isn’t making him slowly lose his sanity. You with prettily lips painted white with his seed. Cum and saliva mixing into a lewd pool on the sterile tile as you suck the soul out of him. 

You. 

And then he’s cumming. 

A raw, drawled-out keen of your name and he’s spilling into his fist. Thick, hot spurts of cum that paint his palms white in a way he wishes he could do to you. And behind his closed eyes all he sees is you - you you you-

You, dragging out his orgasm so torturously, lips decorated with his seed, dribbling down to your lacy pink bra, gushing so lewdly down your ready throat. You with your eyes dazed, lips swollen and quirking up into a fucked-out smile as he does so well for you - cumming, all for you.

You, with your wide eyes and disgust on your face as you realize just what he’d been doing on this suspiciously long “bathroom break”.

Shit.

Body still twitching with the shockwaves of probably one of the Top 5 orgasms of his life, Choso all but collapses against the bathroom door, panting heavily, utterly spent. For a moment, he lies there, wondering if this is what heaven truly felt like.

But as the euphoria of his high ebbs away into nothing but mere tingles, a slight wave of nausea crashes over him. 

Sighing, Choso reaches for the paper towels, ready to clean up his mess. If only you were there to milk him dry then he wouldn’t have to-

…

God, he was definitely baking you apology cookies tomorrow. 

Now, when it started drizzling shortly after Choso left, you took it upon yourself to usher the kids back home and hand over his t-shirt personally like the good samaritan you are - out of the goodness of your heart, of course. 

Not for any reason whatsoever because you were hoping to get at least one more glimpse of those sinful nipple piercings up-close.

…

Okay, perhaps there was a slight ulterior motive involved. 

Either way, what you’d expected was for a flash of silver as you handed over his drenched t-shirt. Or maybe that familiar easy smile to warm you up from the icy water.

Literally anything but to find yourself frozen outside the bathroom door, cunt dripping, and ears ringing with the muffled echoes of his pornographic groans.

At first, completely mortified, your fight or flight instinct had kicked in as you realized just what those rhythmic, fucked-out little grunts meant. Only for you to choose neither option - staying rooted to your spot with the utterance of one, simple, word - your name.

Confusion whirls in your mind almost as much as the throbbing in your cunt, knees weakening. Heart thumping louder and louder in your ears at each whine of your name. Shivers running down your spine - all the way to your wet cunt as it really sets in that this was Choso. And he was fucking his fist in your bathroom. To you.

And you didn’t mind?

In fact, you find yourself leaning against the door, thighs squeezing together - mere inches away from where you imagined him slumped against it. Soft strands sticking to his forehead, cock hot and heavy, aching for release. Ragged breathing as if caught off guard by the intensity of his own pleasure. Broken whispers of your name leaving him over and over-

Really, you know you should give him your privacy. But if the white-hot ropes of pleasure running up your spine are anything to go by then, well, is it really that bad?

You have half the mind to just reach down down down - just a little release. Almost jealous of Choso-

Click!

You’re sure you could rival Usain Bolt with the way you ran down those stairs. Cheeks flaring, his damp t-shirt still clutched tightly in your hand. Mind racing with only one thought - this little fuck wanted you just as badly as you wanted him.

---

You can barely remember what transpired after your little discovery. You couldn’t decide who looked more dazed - you or Yuji, who was being practically dragged out that front door as Choso exited hastily with vague mentions of baking and cookies

And in the ringing silence that followed after that front door slammed, you couldn’t help the smirk that found itself onto your face. This was going to be fun.

But if there’s anything you’ve learned about Choso - it’s that even after twenty-something years on planet Earth, that man can not take a hint.

You somewhat had an inkling after the fifth time you decided to sunbathe in just a skimpy bikini at exactly when you knew he’d be watching. Well, you might not have gotten any reaction other than an extremely flushed face at the window, but at least you knew he’d have more very fun bathroom breaks.

Hell, one time you even bought ice lollies for the whole house - but especially Choso. Making sure those dark eyes followed every lick and trail of it dripping down your fingers under the scorching summer sun. Ultimately resulting in nothing more but a heavy gulp and for his ice lolly to hit the grass faster than it could even begin to melt. 

Ugh, should you get your brother to start another water fight? That went down well last time. 

It’s only after another failed attempt at trying to get him alone and a few hours of deliberating whether you should ship your interrupting brother off on a cruise too that you realize you have to get out the big guns.

“The big guns” being stealthily organizing a sleepover for your brother at the Itadoris, then inviting Choso over for a movie night. Simple, right? And, well, if anyone asked, you could just say the movie just so happened to be rated R. 

It wasn’t too hard to convince your brother that a sleepover with Yuji would be the best thing since sliced bread. The excitement in his voice palpable as he agreed, not suspecting a thing.

You just didn’t think it would be even easier to convince Choso to come over with a simple playful text of “Netflix no chill. Haha jk…unless?” But then again, when has Choso not surprised you?

And that night, as your brother eagerly headed off to Yuji’s place, you couldn’t help but feel a slight pang of guilt - but, hey, it was for a good cause, right? 

It’s a win-win either way - your brother gets to spend the night with a friend and you get to be here, so achingly close to Choso on that couch. So close that you could feel the heat radiating off of him, stealing glances at his sharp profile as the conversation flows easily about the movie playing on screen.

Shifting ever-so-slightly closer, electricity crackling between you two was palpable. You smile in anticipation, after all - you weren’t lying about the movie being rated R.

Now, Choso certainly didn’t come over to your house tonight expecting a wholesome rerun of Cars 2. However, he also wasn’t expecting the blockbuster action movie to suddenly unfold into something so steamy.

Goddamn lecherous directors and their goddamn pervy movies.

Eyes firmly trained on the ground, instead of the actress currently fake-moaning dramatically onscreen, Choso tries to ignore the subtle shift of your hips or the way the temperature in the room has currently increased by about 10 degrees. Or the way your moans would sound a million times prettier in his ears.

Alas, Choso was not a strong man, and he especially tries to will away the blood rushing straight to his cock right now - but how could he? You were such a vision of temptation, so close and warm and close to him on the couch.

This was absolute torture. 

“God, this is so painfully fake. Don’t you think so?” your voice rips through the deafening silence between you two, tone careful and balanced, startling Choso out of his little reverie.

His eyes flicker hastily to meet yours, and for a moment, he seems caught off guard by your sudden interruption. “Oh, yeah.” voice rough with a hint of nervousness. “I’ve seen better performances in middle school plays.”

You nod, the tension between you thickening as you lock eyes. “I mean, who even writes this stuff?” you continue, leaning in even closer to Choso, words positively dripping in sarcasm. “It’s like they’ve never actually had sex before.”

Choso lets out a shaky laugh, the sound strained as he shifts subtly in his seat - but not subtly enough. Because you catch the way he desperately tries to adjust his now-uncomfortably tight pants. Success. 

“Yeah, exactly,” he clears his throat, ripping his gaze away from yours.

You study him for a moment under the dim lighting, noting the way his hands clench and unclench in his lap, the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he struggles to control his breathing. He was nervous. Nervous and horny - exactly where you wanted him. 

A sudden rush of adrenaline courses through your veins, and you lean even closer to the man. Not even a hair’s breadth between you two - you relish in his strangled gasp as your tits press so enticingly against his arm. 

“Choso, just a thought.” you hum casually, lips mere inches from his ear. “Wanna recreate the scene better?”

His breath hitches at your words, muscles rippling so deliciously beneath your touch. “Do you know what you’re saying?” he rumbles, lowly. Eyes darkened and unreadable.

You smile, heart pounding against your chest as your lips brush against his earlobe. “Absolutely.”

It was like something snapped.

Because then he’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him. Because goddammit you haven’t spent the last month sneaking glances at those pretty lips for nothing.

Movie completely forgotten, Choso is warm under your touch - all sculpted chest and urgent pulses as his lips kiss you dizzyingly. Groaning lowly as your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer.

He breathes you in with an infectious desperation that bleeds into his hands, wandering every inch of your skin - as if he didn’t have enough time. And he probably didn’t. Distantly, Choso thinks that no time in the world would be enough to absolutely fucking wreck you the way he wanted to.

Large, hurried hands grope your chest, squeezing so teasingly in a way that almost made you think he was trying to feel out what bra you were wearing - lacy pink. His favorite, of course.

You minx.

Urgently tugging the hem of your tight shirt over your arms, Choso tosses it god-knows-where. Mouth watering as he pulls away to greedily take in the heavenly view of your heaving chest - the same one he’s shamelessly fucked his fist to for too long.

God, you were perfect. With a soft, little oh! Choso leans down to leave hot, open-mouthed kisses on every bit of exposed skin he could reach. Nipping, and tugging lightly. Relishing in the way you whine for his lips again.

Threading a hand through his soft hair, you lightly pull him back to you. Breath fanning his face, lips ghosting over his own.

“Kiss me, you fool.”

And, well, Choso didn’t have to be asked twice. Molding his mouth against yours once more. Letting your lips part, you intertwine your tongue so sinfully with his. He tastes just like he looks - so intoxicatingly delicious.

With a breathy sigh, he lightly taps the curve of your ass. Hands lingering for far longer than necessary, kneading the flesh in a way that has your skin searing. 

You get the signal. Urgently, you loop your legs around his waist. “Choso- bed.” you whisper, muffled in-between kisses. “Now.”

Shivers run down your spine at the way he chuckles darkly, “Honestly, sweetheart. I don’t even hah- know if we’ll make it there.” Mumbling against your lips, “Would you kill me if I take you right here right now?”

“I’ll kill you if you don’t fucking do something.” you hiss, words dripping in desperation. Ah, but Choso, ever the merciful man, shuts up whatever other retort on the tip of your tongue with his own. Kissing you with almost-bruising intensity as he gets up from his seat. Strong arms securely wrapped underneath you, holding you flush against his warm skin.

Choso doesn’t pull away even once as he hastily makes the route to your room. And honestly, with the speed at which your back hits the soft mattress, bouncing at the sheer force at which you two fell on top, you wouldn’t even be surprised if he teleported there.

Now safely in the confines of your room, you all but rip off Choso’s snug t-shirt. Those familiar obscene nipple piercings winking at you under the dim lighting in greeting. 

“Always wanted to do this.” you murmur, surging forward as if on autopilot. Lips latching delicately onto the pretty pink nipples, tasting the cold metal on your tongue. 

“Oh- oh, fuck. A-always knew you had a thing hah- f’my piercings, sweetheart.” Choso breathes out, letting you have your fun. His favorite bra now at the foot of your bed. Fingers deftly sneaking under your skirt, blood rushes straight to his cock as he feels the positively soaked state of your panties - if you could even call them that. 

Sanity snapping, he immediately flings off your skirt. Throwing it somewhere across the room with no care or concern for where it ends up. All so he could look down at oh-

Oh god, if you had to describe Choso’s face as he takes in the sight before him - it would be absolutely losing his sanity. Your pussy dripping and clenching around nothing - all for him.

Strings of slick trail down your thighs as Choso hooks one, long finger under your slutty g-string, tugging impatiently.

You keen as the cold air hits your dripping cunt. Yet Choso’s eyes stay locked hungrily on the sticky fabric intertwined around his fingers “Guess you were expecting this, huh?” he murmurs, voice thick with desire. 

Scoffing, you buck your hips up for something - anything. “I’ve been wanting to fuck you since that first night I hit on you, y’know,” you admit, the heady air of your room melting away any reservations you had previously. 

And that seems to snap Choso out of his trance - eyes flickering over to you, darkened with something so carnal that it makes your cunt throb. “Oh yeah?” he mumbles, swiftly stuffing the g-string in his pocket before leaning down, hot breath hitting your ear. “Now, what was that pick-up line you were gonna say that night?” 

You gasp in embarrassment, heat flooding to your cheeks at the memory. “Wha- that doesn’t matter. I was drunk and-”

Smack!

The delicious sting on your ass hits you before the realization that Choso smacked you. He smacked you. Even later do you realize that you like it - slick beading so obscenely at your sloppy hole.

“What was it, sweetheart?”

You shudder at the tone that leaves no room for argument. The words tumbling out of you as Choso caresses soothingly over the handprint on your ass. “I- it’s stupid. I was gonna say that I’m down to sit on your face, baby.”

“Thought so,” he grins, pulling away from the dizzying proximity. Shifting - well, more like manhandling - you to flip positions. 

God, you could almost sink into his muscles as he lays back on your bed. Voice low and dangerous as he utters words that go straight to your dripping pussy, “Now, sit on m’face.”

And before you know it, you find yourself hastily straddling Choso’s pretty face. Hands snaking down his milky abs, lips kissing along his tattoos, catching purposefully on his sensitive nipples. 

Warm breath fanning your quivering cunt, he reaches up to cup your ass, nudging your needy core to his mouth. Kneading. Groping. 

Not stopping his ministrations even when your slick oozes slowly, torturously through your swollen folds and onto his awaiting tongue. A maddening drip! drip! drip! ringing in your ears above your thundering heartbeat.

Choso groans at the mouthwatering sight above him. You - spread so shamefully open for him and clenching around nothing. 

“Luckily for you, sweetheart, wanted you to sit on m’face ever since I saw you.” sweet juices flowing down his throat, words muffled against your throbbing lips. 

He barely even gets the words out before he’s surging forward. Licking a long, languid stripe up your heated folds. Again. And again. Faster at the pretty moans that spill from your lips.

Pushing his tongue in between your slit, past that first, tight ring of muscle. Bullying it deeper and deeper. Chin pressing against your throbbing clit, ravaged at each movement of his face. 

He caresses your warm walls, relishing so filthily at the way you clamp down on him in surprise. “Hngh- oh shit, baby. Ah-”

Your sweet moans are music in his ears and shit - you called him “baby”. It’s as if every wet dream he’s ever had has come to life as Choso dips in and out at a ruthless pace. Pulling out to tease your dripping entrance, pushing past mercilessly into your plushy walls. In and out in and out in and out-

His cock strains so painfully against his pants at the way your sloppy hole sucks his tongue in so obscenely - almost as if it hurts to part. Tongue fucking you the way he wishes he could with his cock right now.

“Oh- Hah- Choso! Fuck, baby. S’good.” your body arches into his absolutely depraved tongue. 

Desperate whines spilling incessantly from your mouth at the way he quirks his tongue up just right to graze that spot he knew would have you grinding down on him for more. “Ah! Right there - jus’ like that!”

As if he knew exactly how to drive you wild. Exactly how to break you. You almost don’t notice the mindless, shallow little thrusts of his hips into your open palm. Almost.

Eyes snapping open at the tremors, you reach a hand across his quivering thighs. All the way down towards the very obvious dark patch on his pants - right where his furiously hard tip was leaking thick, relentless precum that made your mouth water. 

Oh, how you’d kill to taste him - see if the rest of him is as intoxicating as his mouth is.

So you do. 

Choso was so pussy-drunk in-between your thighs that you think he barely notices the way you fumble with his belt. Shakily pulling those pants down just enough to glimpse the rock-hard erection that those boxers do nothing to hide. 

“Shit,” you whisper, voice strained with need. 

You always imagined Choso had a big cock - but this was ridiculous. Your pussy clenches in both nervousness and anticipation as you imagined the delicious stretch of him splitting you apart on it. Breaking you. 

And that’s probably when Choso notices - you clamping down so filthily on his tongue. 

“Oh?” he rasps, voice sending white-hot vibrations of pleasure right up your spine. “Didn’t think you were so desperate for my cock, sweetheart. Gon’ make me cum, hm?”

Now, you’ve always thought of yourself as a woman of action rather than empty words. Which is probably why you urgently pull down his boxers. Choso’s painfully hard erection springs out, hitting his lower abs. 

You take a moment to admire the long, heavy cock in your hands - a deliciously pretty pink on top, furiously leaking glistening precum. Saliva pooling in your mouth - you shove it as far down your throat as you possibly could. 

Oh, how many times in his life has Choso imagined this moment right here. In the shower, right before bed, right after waking up too. You’re really a dream come to life. 

A startled, strangled moan of your name leaves Choso’s kiss-bitten lips as you take him all in one go. Only to pull back and spit once- twice on his throbbing cock. The steady stream of spit cool - followed so maddeningly by the warm heat of your mouth once more. You start up a torturous, filthy pace bobbing your head up and down on his cock.

He strains his head to catch a glimpse - even just one - of your nose pressed against his pelvis. Breathing in the heady scent at the tufts of hair at the bottom, already wet with precum and spit. His dirty girl. 

Popping off with a lewd squelch, “Feels good, baby?”

“Feels perfect.”

But he wasn’t gonna fall far behind.

Immediately attaching his lips with yours once more, Choso dives nose-deep in your dripping cunt. Rolling your throbbing clit in between his lips. Flicking his tongue along the sensitive bud in a way that makes your head feel so light. He alternates between a slow, languid torture on your clit and fucking into you unforgivingly.

Your movements stutter as you teasingly lick at his sensitive slit. The salty flavor of his precum is probably your favorite taste now. That bastard.

Reaching down, you cup his heavy balls, massaging the tender flesh in harsh, hasty circles that match your mouth down his length - up and down up and down up and-

Muffled moans and lewd squelching filling the heated room. A rhythmic, sinful cadence that both of you were losing your sanity to. Movements more frantic now. Desperate to make the other cum. Desperate to be first.

Letting out soft, raw grunts, Choso fucks up his throbbing erection into your mouth. Your eyes water as his tip abuses the back of your throat. And it makes you wish you could see how messy he looked right now. All smudged eyeliner and slick-glossed lips. 

Gagging around him, a mixture of drool and precum drips sinfully down the corner of your mouth as you increase your pace, pooling messily on his lower abs. Sloppy - so sloppy.

So it only made sense that your orgasms were the same. 

Pleasure dizzyingly overwhelming, you gush around Choso’s mouth with a stifled squeal. Stars behind your eyes, vision blurring, mind blanking - the only things you register being the languid tongue lapping up at your sweet juices and the guttural groan of what sounds like your name as Choso shoots thick, hot spurts of his cum down your throat. 

Throat burning as the salty taste fills your senses, you milk his cock for more more more- his dick pulsing and stuttering in your mouth. Cum staining the fresh sheets below - a problem for later. 

Right now all you were focused on was riding out your high, grinding almost animalistically on Choso’s pretty face. 

You’ve barely removed yourself from him with a lewd pop! before Choso’s wrestling you back onto the mattress. Two fingers squishing your cheeks into an embarrassing pout, cold rings digging into your skin. The other hand snaking in between your thighs to play with your still-twitching cunt. 

“Didn’t say we were done yet, sweetheart.” he mutters. You weren’t done - no, far from it. Because fuck a refractory period - both of you were going to take all you could get.

And before you can think of anything else, Choso is leaning down, hand prying your lips apart for him into a brutal kiss. Teeth clashing, lips bruising. He forces his tongue down your throat. Tasting himself before you barely get a chance to taste him as well. 

“Hah- fuck-” you flinch as he swears into your bruised lips. “So fuckin’ sweet. You taste so good sweetheart.” The sheer debauchery and ache of his cock too much for him. 

Tasting him. Tasting you. Both a heady flavor that leaves you yearning for more. 

You bite down on his bottom lip in retaliation, relishing in the drawn-out groan that rumbles into your mouth at this. The kiss is feral. It’s animalistic. It leaves you feeling so fucking dirty. 

And you barely recognise the dazed, predatory glint in Choso’s eyes as he pulls away, his mind clearly miles away as he spits once. Twice. Three times on your face.

The wads of saliva and cum hit your face with a warm, wet jolt. You whine at the way it seeps into your skin, dripping down your cheeks so fucking obscenely. Pooling at the sheets below in a way that makes you feel sorry for whoever had a shift at the laundromat tomorrow.

“Now, what do we say, sweetheart?”

A fucked-out, delirious smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you realize - yeah, you wouldn’t have it any other way. “Thank you.”

Not even when Choso lets out a dark chuckle, throwing your legs over his sculpted shoulders and manhandling you so that you’re splayed out so shamefully for him. Dripping cunt spread for his greedy gaze and clenching around nothing - aching for him. Begging for him.

Not even when he lines up his still-rock hard cock at your entrance, tip - angry and red - weeping so desperately as he nudges at your sloppy hole. Dragging his head along your folds collecting every bead of slick, just grazing your pulsing clit. Every muscle in your body trembling and anticipating what was to come.

You mewl at the stretch as he presses in - deliciously painful, boderling insane, and exactly what you wanted right now. Splitting you apart on his throbbing cock. 

And especially not when he bottoms out inside you in one, harsh thrust. Burying himself inside your sloppy walls till his twitching balls smack against your ass. 

“Ah- hngh- oh fuckkk.” you keen in both pain and pleasure - broken, raw moans leaving you uncontrollably. But not for long, because suddenly Choso’s shoving two ringed fingers in your mouth, bullying their way inside till you’re gagging and moaning around them. 

Pressing right at that spot on the back of your tongue that makes your eyes tear up so prettily. Hey, if he couldn’t see you choking on his cock properly, the least he could do is see you choking on his fingers, right?

“Now now, wouldn’t want anyone else to hear, hm? Our brother’s would get worried.” he chuckles. Pure, dark amusement in his eyes as he takes in your swollen lips, the teartracks down your cheeks, how utterly beautiful and debauched you look underneath him. So much better than any lust-hazed imagination of his.

And yet, even when you’re being gagged and split apart on his cock, you find it in yourself to be mouthy. Words muffled around his thick fingers as you raise a brow. “There’s no one else home, though?.”

The corners of Choso’s lips lift into a devilish grin, “The neighbors, sweetheart.”

His tone is teasing, but there’s an undercurrent of seriousness that sends a chill down your spine. He’s just joking, right? Right?

“Wha-”

And probably because he was losing his patience - and partly to shut you up - Choso begins to move.

Pushing past the resistance, beginning to fuck into you in shallow, uncontrollable movements of his hips. Just little motions to get him off, groaning at how sinfully tight you were - the way you were sucking him up so good.

Next time, Choso thinks, reaching down a hand to draw tight, little circles on your poor, abused clit - next time he’ll fuck you right. Hours upon hours of teasing you so you don’t know what it feels like when you’re empty without him. 

But fuck does he think he could just about pass out right now.

There’s no going back now. Choso fucks you in a way that makes you feel so deliciously filthy. Plunging into your heated cunt with no restraint. Thrusts positively savage.

Pulling all the way back so that his leaking tip just barely kisses your sloppy entrance, slamming down down down, Choso fucks you at a merciless pace. Relishing the delicious stretch of your cunt as he thrusts into you with a desperation that surpasses the need for reason. 

“Sh-shit, sweetheart. God, s’tight. better than I ever could’ve imagined.” he moans breathlessly, brows furrowing, eyes rolling to the back of his head, the feeling of you milking the absolute soul out of him just too much.

“Oh, yeah- wanted this for so long-”

You yelp every time he rams his cock into you, the smacking of his toned pelvis against your thighs stinging almost as deliciously as his tip kissing your cervix. The obscene slapping of skin on skin makes your cheeks burn - both pairs as his heavy balls smack against your ass each time he shoves his throbbing cock into you.

And because you can’t leave him alone, of course, you find your nails digging harshly into his muscled shoulders. 

Pulling him impossibly closer. You want more. You need more. 

Maybe you say those words out loud - you don’t even know anymore, too delirious and cock-drunk from Choso and your last orgasm and Choso - because his eyes widen ever-so-slightly, mouth falling open into a small oh. Your cunt twitches at the surprised, fucked-out little laugh that leaves him,  “More? My sweetheart wants more?”

And, as you’ve come to learn with Choso - anything you want, you will get. 

“Then fucking- take it.” he grunts lowly, each word punctuated by a harsh thrust of into your plush walls that sends both of you spiraling deeper and deeper into insanity.

And God does he make you take it. Every inch of him fills you, stretching you beyond your limits - both your cunt and your senses as he leans down to bury his head into your neck, hips moving so sloppily, hiking your leg further up his shoulder. The change in angle making you see stars.

Your hips buck up in tandem with his, uncontrollable little ah! ah! ah! leaving you at each thrust. You whimper in pleasure and overstimulation into the heady room, “Yes. Yes yes yes- wan’ cum. Need more. Need you-”

“Fuck- Hngh-” is all he manages to gasp out, pleasure overwhelming his sensitive cock. Choso’s balls twitch almost painfully as they keep smacking your ass. Brain still not keeping up with his body because shit, this is all he’s wanted for years, the least he could do is make you cum before him.

“Sh-shit, sweetheart.” he rasps into your heated skin, “So close- m’ so close.”

You all but sob at his words, “M’too- hngh- ah, m’gonna cum, baby.”

You didn’t expect the petname to be what breaks him, but then again you didn’t think there was anything more left to break. Because Choso groans gutturally, cock twitching inside you “Shit, you’re driving m’crazy, y’know that?”

“I know.” you mewl, voice breaking at the way he increases his frenzied pace on your clit. You could barely even call them circles, just filthy little movements to get you closer and closer to the edge. So close. You writhe beneath him, desperate for release.

And what you didn’t expect was for Choso to connect his sweaty forehead with yours. You take a second to admire just how beautiful he is - all smudged eyeliner, tousled hair, your release still shining on the lower half of his face, and yours. All yours. You could probably stare at the sight forever.

Choso’s hot breath fans your face as he moans breathlessly against your lips, words slurring together as he ruts into you mindlessly, “Always did, y’know?”

“I know.”

“No- y’don’t hah- understand, I- for so long fuck- I-”

“Choso, just kiss me.”

And then you’re kissing him. And he’s kissing you like you’re the most precious thing on Earth. A slow, tender little dance that doesn’t match the way he rams his cock inside you. 

And then you’re cumming. Stars behind your eyes - or maybe those were tears - clamping down desperately on the harsh, jerky movements of his glistening cock that fuck you so sinfully like his little slut. 

White-hot pleasure runs down your spine, or maybe that was Choso - painting your insides the prettiest white you’ve ever seen. Shooting thick, hot ropes of his seed into your waiting pussy. A creamy ring forming around his base as he spills his cum into your snug cunt as he moans against your lips.

It’s messy. It’s sloppy. And as Choso fills you to the brim, hips still unforgiving, seed dribbling out of your dripping pussy at the way it was so overfilled - you think that it’s all you could ever want. 

As his cock twitches finally, exhaustedly - and you distantly wonder how the fuck it isn’t seizing up - Choso collapses onto you, thoroughly fucked-out. Finally pulling out with an obscene squelch, you hiss lowly at the pool of cum that forms beneath you. Gushing out of you sinfully. 

A weighty silence in the air as you both try to catch your breaths.

In the haze of your orgasm you realize that even after all that transpired, he still isn’t laying his full bodyweight on you.

Too afraid to break you.

To break whatever this tender little understanding in the air was.

And it makes some part of your heart clench so delightfully. Subconsciously, you thread a hand through his damp hair, breathing in that familiar smell of vanilla and sunshine - and the heady scent of something so Choso. It makes you intertwine your body so impossibly close with his, not knowing where one of you ends and the other starts.

“My parents are coming home tomorrow.” you start, casually. 

“Mhm. But I’ll still be around here, sweetheart.” Choso rumbles into the crook of your neck. Kissing soothingly over the marks he’d made in the heat of the moment - some carnal little part of him proud of the way you looked like you were fucking thrown to a pack of wolves. 

Words hiding a tense little fear beneath them as you probe further. Something prickly and scared rolling around in your stomach. “For babysitting?”

“Nope.”

Settling deeper into the covers, basking in the afterglow of him. You know you should get up and clean, but right now this was all you wanted. And maybe no other words were needed. 

“God, am I glad your parents aren’t home.” 

Except maybe those. 

You chuckle as you pull back to stare into those deep, dark eyes. Cheeks flaring at the tender little warmth in them much more than they had when he was fucking you so sinfully. A devious idea coming to mind - because now that you got a taste, you were absolutely hooked.

Choso Kamo was absolutely intoxicating.

“Well, we still have time so how about-”

A distant click!

“Honey, we’re home~!”

Shit.

A/N. Fun fact this was originally supposed to be called Timeout! but it was giving too much me during beep test.

Plagiarism not authorized.

#choso x reader #choso smut #choso x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo smut #choso kamo x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #choso #tonywrites #choso kamo

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 !! ❞

❝ WHEN YOUR CHILDHOOD BEST FRIEND OFFERS TO TEACH YOU HOW TO LOVE, HOW CAN YOU SAY NO ?? ❞

✧ pairing: college student!yuji itadori x f!reader

✧ summary: yuji itadori has been your best friend since you were kids, and when he offers you to teach you how to fuck, you don't expect him to be able to find his way into your heart too.

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, aged up characters (don't like? don't read), childhood best friends to fwb to lovers, college au! (no curses), reader is the same age as yuji (both 20s), grew up as neighbors, mutual pining, nobara playing cupid, jealous!yuji, yuji is so golden retriever bf, nightmares, mentions of parental death via car crash (yuji), adoptive dad nanamin :), nipple play, oral (f + m), fingering (f! receiving), handjob (m! receiving), semi public sex (under a blanket with sleeping friends nearby), sex (p in v), creampie, swearing, fanart by unknown artist (found on pinterest, pls let me know if you know the og artist so i can credit)

✧ wc: 13,544

✧ for my 2k celebration event: item 5 has been sold to two anons!

“You want me to teach you?” 

The words left your best friend’s lips nonchalantly as if he was asking you if you wanted him to teach you how to ride a bike. 

But that’s not what he was offering to have you ride—

“Yuji,” you say slowly, “what are you saying? Do you even know what you’re saying?” 

Yuji Itadori was dense, but you knew he was far from stupid. You learned that in third grade when he punched a bully that had been picking on you, the final straw being when he had tripped you, causing you to skin your knee. Before you could even well any tears up in your eyes, you heard a thwack and a yelp as Yuji had laid the boy out on the playground. You stared at Yuji, as he offered you his other hand to help you to your feet, as your eyes slid from him to your bully. 

Yuji knelt down, carrying you on his back to the nurse’s office, “but Yuji, what about him? We left him—“ 

And he set you down outside the nurse’s office — and he only smiled that wide smile he had always reserved for you, “Don’t worry — I made sure no one was looking.” 

But now, you were beginning to doubt his sanity, rather than his intelligence — “I know what I’m saying,” he chuckles, trademark smile on his lips, “I’m just offering you the chance to practice,” 

“This isn’t practicing a sport or test—you’re offering,” you shift on your bed, while Yuji lounges on the floor, back against the bottom of your bed, “you’re offering to sleep with me, Yuji,” he leans his head on your bed, looking up at you at way, your face upside in his vision. 

“I know, I know, but it’s not a big deal is it?” he’s acting so nonchalant you wonder if one of his teammates had hit him hard in the head during practice, “we’ve had all our firsts together,” 

You scoff, “That was like our first steps, first day of school, first drink—“ 

“First kiss—“ he interrupts, and your face burns at the memory — a preadolescent game gone wrong that ended up with you and Yuji sharing your first kiss when you were teens. 

“That wasn’t real,” you wave him off, crossing your arms, “and this isn’t just a kiss for a game—this could change our friendship—“ 

“It won’t, if we don’t let it,” his gaze is more serious than you’ve ever seen Yuji be — not when he was usually all wide smiles and enthusiasm, “it’s us, we can get through it, and we don’t have to let it get weird right?” 

You chew on your lip, “Yuji, what do you get out of it?” And he’s tilting his head at your question— “I mean you don’t have to do this — just because I’m insecure because I don’t have experience,” you mumble. 

And that’s how the conversation had started — your complaints about your friends talking about their boyfriends, exes, and hookups, while you just nodded along — far too aware that you hadn’t even had a proper kiss, much less sex. And now you had found yourself here. 

“Look,” he slides up to sit on your bed, a good distance away from you, his eyes finding yours — warm hazel that felt as if it was drizzling over your skin wherever his gaze traveled, “I want your first time to be safe. I don’t want you to just hook up with someone and something bad to happen because you can’t say no — with me,” he clenched his hand into a fist holding his other hand flat as he gently hit his fist against it, “you can tell me to stop and if I somehow don’t or don’t hear you, punch me,” 

You snort, “Yuji,” he’s shaking his head. 

“I’m serious, I want you to be safe,” and you’re fidgeting with your fingers in your lap — this was Yuji, Yuji — you couldn’t say you hadn’t noticed how well he had grown up. Not when all of your friends drooled over him — especially with how liked he was — by everyone. 

“What if I lose you?” And he chuckles, as he breaches your personal space and his hand brushes yours. 

“You won’t, ever. I promise,” and your breath catches — many millions of times had Yuji touched you throughout your lives — an arm over over your shoulder, a hug, even holding your hand through crowds during festivals — but a simple brush of his fingers against yours had your heart rattling against its bony enclosure, begging for you to let it out, “what do ya think?” 

And you’re thinking — this would be the best outcome — you weren’t one to hook up with a stranger and you were burnt out on dead end dating app conversations, and to have your first time with someone close, someone you knew — it would be ideal. 

“Are you sure?” And his lips curl into a soft smile, leaning closer, as his fingers gently brush against your locks. 

“Would I be here like this if I wasn’t?” his breath warms your lips, as his fingers skim your cheek, “is this okay?” 

You nod wordlessly, unable to find the words to even reply — you had never thought of this situation would ever happen — especially like this. You lean against his hand, calloused from his practices, but as gentle as it always was. 

“We can take it as slow as you need,” he murmurs, as he’s even closer now, your eyes fluttering shut, only for his lips to graze your forehead. You pause at the featherlight touch — wondering if it actually happened when your eyes open to find his, “no need to rush, right?” He smiles, as he gets to his feet, “are we still on for tomorrow’s study session?” 

“Of course,” 

He scratches the back of his head, “Good because I still don’t understand math or why I need it, but unfortunately, I still have to pass,” he grabs his bag, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he offers a smile before he’s gone. 

And you’re left sitting on your bed, the warmth of his touch still on your skin, wondering what the fuck just even happened. 

“Yuji, you just have to solve for x,” you sigh, explaining the problem for the billionth time, as his pen waves back forth between two fingers, “it’s simple,” 

Your weekly study sessions with Yuji were a constant throughout your life, though more for Yuji than you. Yuji is very intelligent, despite his demeanor in class where it felt as if there was a perpetual question mark over his head — he just learned by seeing and then doing. And the repetition helped you all the same. But you had never felt so conscious sitting next to the boy you called your best friend. 

“Maybe to you, but I don’t why math has to involve letters,” he wrinkled his nose at the problem, sighing, as he twists the pen around his hand, and your eyes catch the movement — you didn’t know how the little boy’s whose hands you used to hold had gotten so big now — calloused from his practices, but so soft against your skin,  “is something interesting about my hands?” 

Your eyes snap up to meet his, cheeks burning as you shake your head, “No, just, uh, impressed that you can twist the pen around your hand like that,” 

“Oh, that?” he’s as unfazed as usual, leaning back a little, “that’s easy. I could show you if you want,” 

“It’s fine,” and you’re trying to focus back on the problem, when you find him still staring, “what is it?” 

“If you wanted to hold my hand, you just had to ask,” his fingers graze yours, with enough time for you to pull away, before his fingers lace with yours, “and we can do more if you want?” 

This was crazy — it was probably a mistake, but — as his touch made your heart flutter, warm rolling in waves that erupted into butterflies in your stomach — why weren’t you pulling away? 

“What does more entail?” and he inches a little closer, his breath warming your lips, “but you still haven’t gotten this problem down, are you just trying to get out of studying?” 

A chuckle on his lips, “Maybe I’m just looking for the right motivation, so how about we make a deal?” He moves over, spreading his legs apart, and pats the floor in front of you — for each question I get right, I get a kiss,”

And why you agreed to this, you really didn’t have words—but now you were sat between his legs, nearly in his lap, as he leaned forward — his chest against your back as his chin brushed your shoulder and his cheek brushed against your own, breath warming your neck — trying to get a better look at the math problem. His arm was wrapped around your side as his pen scratched against the scrap paper, trying to solve the problem. You bit your lip, trying your best not to glance at him, but you spot his wrinkled brow out of the corner of his lip and the tip of his tongue poking ever so slightly out of his mouth— and your lips curled, he still had that habit from when you were kids. 

“There, I think I solved it,” he murmurs, and you have to hold back a shiver at the words rumbled against your ear, “is it right?” 

And god, you could barely think, much less do math, but as you glance over the question and answer — he’s got it right.  

Fuck. 

“It is,” you say softly, “is all you need some motivation? Because I would have just promised I would go to see the next Human Earthworm movie,” 

He chuckles, his lips nearly against your ear, as his hand gently traces your jaw, “I’d like that, but I think i rather have what I was promised, as long as you’re still okay with that,” 

Your breath hitches, as you follow his lead, rough pads still so gentle against your cheek, as your eyes find his, but you don���t find his usual doe eyes — but instead find pools of lust threatening to drag you under. Although from the way your lips part and eyes flutter shut, perhaps he had you underwater for far longer than you even knew. 

His lips graze yours — it’s barely a kiss, a peck maybe — as he does his best to ease you in. You didn’t know lips could be so soft — meeting again and again, stealing logic from your mind and breath from your lungs. 

“Are you okay?” He’s murmuring, not even a breath away from your lips. You’re nearly dizzy, mind reeling from his touch, heart jumping at his thumb rubbing lightly against your cheek. 

“I am, just a little strange to be kissing, much less you,” and his brow knits together, “but not bad at all,” you add, and he chuckles, his fingers grazing your cheek firmer, as he leans in again, “we said one kiss—“ 

“Do you really want to stop now?” he’s murmuring, and your noses bump against each other. 

Your lips find his again and now you can taste the sour candy he had stolen from you, but an overwhelming sweetness overrides it, and your hand brushes against his cheek, the other finding purchase on his chest.

“Is that okay?” You murmur, as you lips part, the two of you catching your breath, your shared pants filling the silence, your cheeks burning as your eyes avert from his, “I don’t know—“ 

“You’re fine, don’t worry about it,” a small chuckle on his lips, fingers cupping your chin to guide your gaze back to his — a subtle heat that makes your insides turn to molasses, sticky and sweet and far too warm, “just do what feels right, ok?” 

And his lips find yours again, gently as he did the first time, but more passion behind it, swallowing your quiet murmur of his name with ease. Your lips move against his just as his did — you try to push aside the thoughts of whether you were doing this right. But the slight brush of his teeth against your bottom lip makes you forget too with a gasp. 

He pulls away with a grin on his lips, “Sorry, couldn’t resist,” and his lips are kissed red, your thumb brushed against his swollen lips, “don’t tempt me more,” 

“You’re the one who started this, shouldn’t you take some responsibility, Yu?” your lips graze his cheek, curling as a rosy flush settles over his cheekbones, “nothing to say?” 

“You’re making it hard for me to hold back,” and he’s burying his face in the side of your neck, making you shiver, as he pulls you even closer, arms around your waist, “I don’t want to rush you,” 

Cute, you think before you even think, and yet the way his face is hidden away in your neck, breath warming your neck makes your body flush, and when have you ever thought of Yuji as cute? And yet you couldn’t remember a time that he made your heart race either. 

His lips press a small kiss to your neck, drawing a yelp from your lips, “Yuji—“ he’s nosing the hollow of your throat, “ah, you’re teasing me,” you whine, and he’s lifting his gaze back to yours, heavy with want, a want that leaves you bereft of any semblance of sense. 

“You started it,” he murmurs, before he finds your lips in another kiss — this time it’s a slow heat, languid as it threatens to burn both of you alive, flames licking at the edges of your reason. And his phone goes off — a reminder for practice that he groans at, “I should go. I have to go run laps,” 

“Now?” And he’s slowly disentangling himself from you, the absence of his touch lingers, the heat ebbing, “don’t you usually practice in the mornings?” You get to your feet slowly as well, handing him his math notebook, and it occurs to you when you spot the puddles outside, “it was too wet,” 

And he nods, scratching the back of his head, as the two of you walk out into your apartment’s living space, “and I forgot my protein shake—“ you head over to the kitchen, opening the refrigerator door and pulling out his shake, and he blinks, “how—“ 

“You did the same thing last week, so I just bought a pack for you,” and his lips curl as he walks over and takes the bottle from your hand, fingers brushing — and even that much alight a flutter of nerves through your body. 

“Thanks,” he grins, and you nod. 

“Of course, I thought it just made sense since you come here every week—” you turn to shut the refrigerator, before turning back, only to find him stepping a bit closer, “Yu—“ 

“I almost forgot, one more lesson,” and he’s leaning close, and your breath catches in your throat, as his lips brush yours, fingers tracing the swell of your cheek, “a kiss goodbye,” and he parts, a brush of his fingers against yours, “I’ll text you later,” and he’s gone in a flash. 

Your left, fingertips touching your lips, a questioning lingering as he left — whether these feelings blooming in your chest were just from the kiss, or something more. 

But you glance at your phone — a text from Yuji: 

Golden Retriever Bestie: thanks for the drink again :)

You lock the screen — but you couldn’t hope for more, right? Not when this was started with the intention of stopping. But why—as you laid back into bed, staring up at your ceiling in the same room the two of you had spent the last two years watching movies or studying in, eyes squeezing shut—

Why did you still want more? 

When did Yuji Itadori fall in love with you? It would probably be easier for him to list the moments he hadn’t fallen for you — but the earliest he can remember was when he had hurt himself climbing a tree in the schoolyard, falling from the branch he had made it to. You had been watching him the whole time, telling him to come down, and when he fell, you were at his side. His vision was a little blurry but when it cleared, he saw you knelt above him, big tears leaving your eyes. And when he came to, you hugged him tight, before helping him to the nurse’s. You had even insisted on bandaging his cuts, not letting the nurse do so. 

And that’s when he knew — he knew he always wanted to wake to you beside him. 

“You what?” Nobara scoffed at him, as she held up another of her new purchases in front of her while looking in her full length mirror, “so instead of asking her out and confession this pathetic crush—“ 

“Pathetic is kinda harsh, Kugisaki—“ 

“It’s been over a decade — your one sided feelings is now in secondary school — it’s officially pathetic,” she hangs up the new leather jacket she bought in her closet, before turning to Yuji, “so instead of confessing, you asked her to be your friends with benefits—“ 

“That’s not exactly—“ she cuts him off with a look, “ok that’s kind of what I did,” he shakes his head, “she was venting about how she never had her first kiss and words started coming out of my mouth and wouldn’t stop—“ 

“Not the first time that’s happened to you is it?” And Yuji glares at her through the mirror, “what? You came to me instead of Fushiguro because you wanted a pretty girl’s opinion right?” 

“I said girl, nothing about—“ it was her turn to glare at him, “alright, alright — what do I do now? I want to tell her I like her, but if I do, I might seem like a—“ 

“A creep? A weirdo? A pervert?” 

“I was gonna say liar, but those too,” he rubbed a hand down his face, “what do I do?” 

She sighs, tucking a strand of her dyed hair behind her ear, “the only thing to do in situation like this,” 

“Tell the truth?” And she scoffs. 

“No, of course not, just use this time to make her fall for you, but that means you’ll have to use this agreement to your advantage,” she hums, “she said she wanted more experience right?” And Yuji nods, “who says it has to just be making out and sex?” 

“You want to go on a date? Fuck,” you mutter under your breath as you turn the heat of your burner down, hoping you hadn’t completely burned your omelet now as you flipped it, “I thought this was just supposed to be for the more…physical sides of things,” your cheeks burned. 

God, what the fuck. 

“I mean part of gaining experience is learning how to date, right?” And you’re placing your slightly burned omelet in the plate, as you wipe your hands off with your dishcloth, “we could go to an arcade, maybe catch a movie,” 

“Human Earthworm 4?” And you hear him chuckle over the line, and the sound makes your lips curl — it always felt like an accomplishment making him laugh, but even more so now.  

“We don’t have to—“ 

“I don’t mind,” you cut him off, and you never did — you just loved to tease him, as you always did, “they’ve grown on me,” and you didn’t know there was more room for Yuji to grow on you, you thought his roots had already went far and deep, tangled around every inch of yourself and your mind, even your heart — but now—

“Does 2 PM work? I’ll come by and pick you up from your place,” and you didn’t know where it would go but— 

“Sounds perfect,”  he had found his way into a place you never thought anyone would find themselves in. — and as he hung up, biting your bottom lip—

And it seemed he was here to stay. 

“You’re such a cheater,” you glared at Yuji as he won for the tenth time at the boxing game — hitting the max score every time, “tell me what the trick is,” 

“You know I’m strong,” Yuji gapes,  holding his arm, “how would I cheat?” And you’re pouting, crossing your arms. 

“You’re cheating by being you,” and Yuji has to bite back his smile — you were being so cute — but he knows saying that will earn him a punch in the shoulder harder than you gave the punching bag on the machine, “now you have to buy me an ice cream,” 

“For?” He raises an eyebrow. 

“For being a cheater,” and he can’t help the chuckle that leaves his lips that earns him a bunch of slaps to his arm, before he’s wrapping that same arm around your waist, your complaints chased away by a gasp, “what—“ 

“I was going to buy you anything you wanted anyway, it is a date after all,” he smiles, and you stammer, but you don’t pull away, “what flavor do you want?” After you tell him, he goes off to the concession to buy you both some ice cream, and when he finds you at a table, he sees you’re not alone. His lips are a tight line, as he finds a guy leaning against the booth you sat in, clearly flirting with you, your back to Yuji so he can’t see your face. 

He finds his way back to you, his hand brushes your shoulder gently, “is everything okay?” He asks you, meeting your gaze without regard for the stranger — and he’s glad he did, because he spots your pursed lips and darting eyes that told him everything he needed to know, “you need something?” He asks the guy, a friendly smile on his lips. 

“Not from you,” the guy scoffs, “I was talking to—“ 

“Well, you’re talking to me now, not my date, so—“ and you’re leaning into Yuji, “you need something or not?” And the guy grumbles something under his breath before slinking away, and Yuji’s sliding in beside you when you move over, “you okay?” 

“Yeah, he wouldn’t leave,” you sigh, shaking your head, “sorry—“ 

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” he murmurs, as he hands you your ice cream, “as long as you’re okay,” his arm slides around your shoulder and squeezes you, “i would’ve punched him if it wouldn’t have ruined our date,” 

You snort, as you lick your ice cream, “if you punched him harder than you did the bag, don’t know if this date would have ended with us going home,” and he pouts, as he laps at his ice cream, and he feels you turn to look at him, “Didn’t know you were the jealous type, Yu,” and he chuckles, he wanted to say — only when it came to you. 

But he knew that he couldn’t. Not like this.  

“I didn’t think I was either.” 

“Nope, not gonna admit it,” and Yuji’s grinning still, as the two of you walk out of the theater, his arm still around your shoulder, “no it wasn’t that good,” 

If there was one thing about Yuji is that movies were literally his obsession — one movie marathon when the two of you were teens had turned him into a fanatic. And he often ended up dragging you to all of them he saw in theaters — and you probably had watched the Human Earthworm movies the most amount of times anyone ever has — aside from Yuji. Well, more like you watched him watch it, because while he was smiling and laughing (or crying) at the movie, you were looking at him. 

And right now, he looked far too smug, “So you admit that it was good,” and you cross your arms, shaking your head, “I saw you tearing up at the end — I told you, it’s all about love!” 

You purse your lips, if only to hold back your smile, before sighing, “How would no one tear up at that ending?” And his hand’s grabbing yours, tugging at your arm, as the two of you walk along, “Yu—“ 

“I knew you liked it! C’mon, I knew you would, now what was your favorite part?” And your lips curl into a smile, “what?” 

That was one of the things you loved the most about Yuji, how excited he could get — how he loved everything so wholeheartedly with no reservations, and you knew he was the one person you could always count on to cheer you up. 

“Nothing, nothing,” you chuckle, letting your fingers lace with his, “my favorite part?” And you want to say — watching him enjoy the movie. 

But you can’t. 

“Probably the ending,” you slowly smile, “liked it when the credits rolled,” and he’s mock glaring, as you laugh before his arm tightening around your waist, “Yu-ji—“ 

“Not going to be honest?” He murmurs, before kissing your chin, “then maybe I’ll make you.” 

“Yu—ngh, please,” Yuji could get addicted to your taste, it was never enough, was it? His lips had spent the last twenty minutes kissing every inch of your face and neck, traversing over every nook and cranny as he always wanted to — and yet it was never enough. Any time spent with you was never enough —because you always made anything better, and nothing ever worse. 

And he knew no one else would ever feel this good. 

How many times had he imagined just this scenario? Of you in his bedroom with him alone, as you had been many times before, but never like this. You never looked at him like that before — with that shyness mixed with an undercurrent of want. And it was enough to rip him away and drag him under with you. 

“Please what, baby?” Yuji looks up with a wry smile and soft eyes that burn a path where as it raked down your body like coals across a fire, “want me to stop?” And he’s dragging a thumb down your untouched lips. 

You cover your face with the back of your hand, and he’s gently tugging it away, pressing a kiss to your wrist, your pulse jumping underneath, “I want more,” and fuck if he wasn’t at full mast from the kissing, he was now at your words, “I want you to…kiss me and…touch me,” you mumble, eyes averted, but he’s smiling all the same — you were so cute. 

“Where can I touch?” he asks softly, his nose brushing yours, “need you to tell me. I don’t want to rush—“ 

And your lips crash against his, your fingers finding the back of his neck, threading in his pink locks. He’s pausing a moment before he melts into your kiss, and you’re taking the lead, as you lean further into the kiss, your fingers sliding down from his shoulder to his chest. His tongue flicks against the seam of your lips and you part for him. 

“I want you to touch me,” you murmur as you break the kiss, panting, strings of your spit still connecting your lips, your breathy words nearly enough for him to lose all control, “I’ll tell you if I don’t like it,” 

And he’s more than happy to oblige, his lips find yours in a bruising kiss, his hand toys with the hem of your shirt as permission, and you part from the kiss to nod. His hand slides up your soft flesh, pushing up your shirt along with it — finding your lacy bra underneath. He’s tugging the shirt up and over your head with your help, and god—

He has to stop himself from cumming right then and there at the sight of you. His fingers reach out, toying with the strap of your bra, “Did you wear this for me?” And you biting your bottom lip was all the answer he needed. 

“Yu—“ he’s tweaking your hardened bud through the fabric, “ah, fuck—“ and he leans down to suck the other side through your bra, while sliding down your bra strap. 

“Need to taste you,” and you’re nodding, while he’s reaching around to brush against the clasp of your bra to undo it, and his cock twitches at the sight of your bare skin — you’re so fucking pretty. 

He always thought you were pretty — when you were kids drenched from running around in the rain, when you were just waking up from a nap with your hair askew and dried drool in the corner of your mouth, when your eyes were wide with excitement and nearly jumping up and down to tell him good news; and when you’re smiling—especially when you’re smiling. 

It was his favorite thing. 

“Don’t stare so much,” you’re trying cover yourself, but his hands catch yours, easing them off, “It’s embarrassing—“ 

“You’re perfect,” and your lips part but no words come, but you can’t meet his gaze, “you are—“ 

“You’re just saying that—“ and his fingers pinch your nipple drawing a gasp from your lips, while he leans down and takes the other in his mouth. His eyes find yours, blown into deep, dark pools by his lust — ones you’d be more than willing to drown in. 

“I’d never just say that, especially to you, baby,” and you’re about to make a smart remark about him calling you ‘baby.’ But you forget every word you ever learned when his fingers start to drag down your stomach, fingers playing with the button of your jeans, “can I?” 

And you nod, your back arching ever so slightly as his lips press a sweet kiss to your bellybutton. He’s kissing down your soft legs as he tugs down your jeans — one to your thigh, another to your knee, and another to your ankle —before he’s kissing up the other. 

“How’s that feel?” he murmurs, eyes flitting up to meet yours, and fuck, your lips parted and swollen a pretty red, eyes half lidded with want, and — as his eyes fall between your thighs — a growing wet spot on your panties. 

His fingers toy with the elastic, snapping it lightly against your skin, a slight flinch only, as his eyes gaze at your clothed cunt with near reverence. He looks for permission, before he leans in to press a kiss to your swollen clit, a small yelp escaping your mouth. 

“Yuji,” you whine, lifting your head to meet his gaze again, “please,” 

“Say my name again, please,” he’s kissing your thigh gently, and it feels as if you’ll crumble under his touch any second, wither away in a figment of his imagination, and he won’t ever get the chance to hear you like this again, much less touch you. He was selfish to take advantage like this — and he knew he was — but he couldn’t leave it like this.

“Yuji, just touch me—“ and your head falls back as his fingers graze your clit through your nearly translucent underwear, “ngh, you fucker—“ and he’s chuckling, as he tugs your panties away. 

“Wanted to keep them on since you looked so good, but,” and he’s pocketing them with a grin, “I’ll just keep them instead,” your dripping walls twitch at the thought, “s’good for me. What do you want, my fingers or my tongue?” 

“Fuck, I don’t know, just touch—“ and your head lolls against the pillow as his tongue drags up flat up the length of your weeping pussy. 

“You’re so sweet — I could live here,” he murmurs, as his fingers spread your slick folds, a pretty moan falling from your lips as he does, “can’t wait to feel you cum around my fingers,” he’s easing a finger in — and you’re so tight, you’re tensing as he tries to part your walls, “relax, ok? I’ll be gentle. Don’t worry. I won’t ever hurt you,” his eyes meet yours and you’re nodding, as he pulls his finger away, a shiver at the empty ache, but it falls away into another moan as his tongue replaces it. 

The wet squelch of your folds is enough for him to cum right there — you smell as sweet as you taste, as he kisses your clit, before dragging the length of his tongue over your sopping slit again, “Yuji—fuck—“ your fingers find purchase in his pink locks right when he decides to sink a finger inside you again. 

“That’s it,” he grunts, as he works his finger knuckle deep into you, “so good f’me, so tight,” he’s murmuring, and your syrupy walls wrapped around his finger makes him wonder how good it will feel when his cock is inside you. He’s palming his erection through his pants, desperate for any kind of fucking friction, “g’nna add another,” 

And you’re nodding, “please, I—“ and a second finger joins the first, and the lewd noises grow louder from your slick and his fingers begin to pump faster — teasing and stretching your walls as they begin to flutter around you, “Yuji, Yuji—“ his name leaves your lips like a prayer, but he’s the one who would worship at your feet, if you’d let him, your moans and whimpers were all he needed to survive, and he’d give his very soul if it meant he could be at your side. 

His fingers are fucking you open, the tips of his fingers brushing against the spot that his your mouth falling open in a silent moan, “that’s it, cum for me, pretty girl,” and pleasure rips up your spine, as you cum all over his fingers, thighs shaking as you do. He fucks you slowly through your orgasm, helping you ride it out, until he’s slowing, leaning up to prsss sweet kisses to your face. 

“I’m going to pull them out slowly,” he murmurs, your eyes still fluttered shut, but they slowly open to watch him ease his fingers from you. Soft pants leave your lips as you watch him with lidded eyes lick his fingers sticky with your release clean. 

“Are you okay?” He’s murmuring, as he moves up to lean over your face, and you’re nodding, “let me clean you up and we can sleep, ok?” he’s moving to get off the bed, but you grab his hand, and he tilts his head. 

“What about you?” You mumble, frowning, eyes flickering to the tent in his pants with a shy gaze, “I want to—“ 

“It’s okay, let’s just take it easy today,” he’s smiling, fingers finding yours and squeezing, pressing his lips to your knuckles, “you look like you’re about to pass out,” and you’re pouting all the same, but you seem to relent as the exhaustion sets in once again at your words, “I’ll be right back,” and he retreats to his bathroom to wet a washcloth, only to come back to you fast asleep. 

He chuckles at the sight of you sprawled out on his bed — a sight not uncommon to him on nights you spent over, but never like this before. He leans on the bed carefully, mattress creaking ever so slightly under his weight, as he begins to clean you gently — and luckily, you don’t wake by the time he’s done. He can’t put your jeans or underwear on so he opts to grab a pair of his freshly washed shorts and slides them on you. He adjusts the blanket, draping it over you, running his fingers through your hair to tuck it behind your ear, and the back of his knuckles over your cheek. 

“Yuji,” you mumble in your sleep, and he bites his lip — as he returns to his bathroom, softly shutting the bedroom door and the bathroom door behind him, a glaring problem to deal with, as he is still nearly waddling at this point from the grazing of his boxers against his aching erection. 

He undoes his jeans quickly, eyes fluttering as he pushes both down and strips his shirt off before slipping into the shower. The squeak of the shower faucet and the water running hopefully don’t wake you — but more importantly, he hopes his moans don’t.  

His dick was rock hard and aching still — there were so many times he nearly came in his pants, and by how drenched his boxers were — maybe he had. But fuck, you were so gorgeous, laid back and spread out for him. 

His fingers grazed his weeping cock, smearing the precum up and down his length, thumb tracing his slit, as you would. He could see you thumbing his head experimentally, as your eyes flickered up at him, doe eyes, yet glazed over with lust. It wouldn’t be long until you’re slowly pumping him, as he does now — from base to tip, teasing his balls all the same. You’d flick your tongue over the tip, sucking at the dripping precum — wrinkle your nose at the salty taste, but you’d suck at his tip all the same. 

He’d look down at you as your hand switches to toying with his balls, as you let his cock slap against your tongue, before letting his length slip past your lips. Your lips would feel so much softer than his hand does right now, jerking himself off, your plush lips and tongue wrapped around his dick. A low groan escapes his lips, as he covers his mouth, hoping you couldn’t hear him over the running water. The squelch of his precum and his soft moans would only make him want to repay the favor, making you cum over and over, until you were begging him to stop. 

Fuck, he was close, by the way his cock twitched in his hand — where would he cum with you? He’d cum anywhere you wanted — but to cum on your face or chest, the image made him shudder. Your tongue would flick out to clean up some of the cum, and—

Fuck, he moans your name, as he cums all over his fingers, his release sprayed against the tile of his shower, dripping down and mixing with the water. He’s panting, as he cleans his hand off in the shower, leaning his head back. 

What has he gotten himself into? Was it right for him to do this? You didn’t know how he felt — and he didn’t know if you would ever feel the same. But as he got dressed and crawled into bed beside you, keeping his distance as you slept, he felt you move closer, mumbling his name as you did. He couldn’t help but softly smile, running his fingers through his hair—it didn’t matter if you never ended up loving him, as long as you knew what you deserved—to be with someone who loved you, as much or even more than he did. 

He let himself drift off, a loose arm thrown over your middle—he’d let himself have this, if only for now. 

“Oh come on, you couldn’t get the ad free version, Fushiguro?” Nobara complains as yet another commercial comes on, as she glares at the black haired vet student, who sat on the floor after she stole his armchair. 

He only shrugs, bearing little to no reaction, “If you’re going to complain, then why don’t you pay for it?” 

Nobara and him begin to bicker ever so slightly, and Yuji chuckles in your ear, “are they more fun to watch then the show?” 

The four of you were at your apartment, watching a new season of a TV show you all had started last year. You were sat next to Yuji on the couch, your bodies nearly pressed against each other as you shared the blanket, a little cold from the rain outside. 

“They’re always more entertaining than the show, that’s why we agree to this,” you whisper back, the proximity of your bodies making your cheeks burn. You turn away, hoping he can’t feel or even hear the way your heart was beating down your ribs to burst free. Every time he shifted even slightly, you felt your body react — so conscious of even a twitch of his fingers — you wanted to bury yourself under the blanket. 

It had been like this since that night. 

You had woken up to him asleep beside you. Your eyes fluttered open as consciousness slowly crept into focus, sunlight filtering into sight, a small groan leaving your lips. And it wasn’t until you tried to reach for your phone you realized the thing beside you wasn’t a pillow but a person.  

Your eyes flew open and you found Yuji still sound asleep beside you. It wasn’t unusual for the two of you to sleep on the same bed — especially after a late night where one or the other didn’t want to go home — but it was different to wake up entangled with him, especially after the events of the night before came flooding back. 

And after that, each time you had been around him, you had become more and more conscious of his touch, nervous even, at the simplest of brushes of his fingers. And this? His body pressed against yours, his fingers grazing your thigh nearly, and his soft breath against your ear — god, you were going to lose it. 

“You ok?” he murmurs a half an hour later, and the question itself makes you squirm — because no, your hot best friend was pressed against you and making you want to do nothing more than kiss him— 

Wait, wait, hot? Your mind stutters at your own thoughts, lagging to comprehend yourself — hot? You wanted to kiss him? You always knew Yuji was hot, he was objectively — especially based on how many of your friends had wanted you to hook them up with him — but you had never thought of him that way. Maybe in passing — but to you, that was the one line you could never cross, especially when you had seen so many friendships fall apart because of a relationship. 

You never wanted to risk Yuji like that. 

But then here you were — blurring that line you said you never cross — and letting the ground split underneath the two of you. 

“I’m fine,” you mumble back — and yet here he was, seemingly unfazed by your proximity and as the minutes ticked by, it began to eat away at you. Did he not find it as meaningful as you did? Did he not feel as good as you? Do you need to touch him just to make him feel just as heartsick as you were? 

And now you know what you wanted to do. 

As the show went on, Nobara and Fushiguro fell asleep — Fushiguro asleep with a cushion he had stolen from Nobara’s armchair and Nobara curled up in said armchair, passed out. 

“Should we stop the show and go to bed?” Yuji asks you, albeit innocently — but there was anything but innocent intentions in your mind when you shake your head, a smile on your lips. 

“Let’s keep watching,” your fingers grazes his thigh, as you lean over, lips nearly brushing against his ear, “it’s just getting interesting, right?” 

And his breath hitches, “what’re you—“ and your fingers inches higher, grazing over his already tenting erection, a hiss escapes his lips, as he’s covering his mouth. 

“Shh, don’t wake them,” and your fingers are ghosting and teasing over his cock, the precum already starting to seep through the fabric, as he shifts under your touch. Your thumb flicks over his head, now fully hard, “so big already,” you mumble, and now your lips press sweet kisses to his neck, finding small cuts and bruises from his practices, and a gasp escaped his lips. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this—“ and your lips find his, and he melts so easily into your touch, your fingers toy with the elastic of his shorts, his eyes flickering to the two sleeping. He’s pulling away for a breath, lips utterly ruined — his fingers running through his hair, “please—“ and your lips curl. 

Your fingers finally brush against his leaking cock, and his head falls back, his cheeks flushed a pretty pink, lips parted as soft pants left his lips. And you’re nearly shivering yourself at his want — seeping into your own body, as his pants and moans send a wave of heat between your thighs. 

You rub your thighs together, as you shift even closer somehow, “Gotta be quiet Yu — they can hear us after all,” you murmur, right as your thumb swipes over his slit, a yelp caught in his throat, as his hand flies back to lips, “good boy,” and his dick twitches at the praise, as your finger begins to trace along his veins, “so big, how am I going to fit you inside?” you murmur, biting back a smirk when a muffled groan reaches your ears. 

Your fingers finally curl around his length, you never thought a cock to be pretty — but Yuji’s was. You stared at it under the covers, flushed a lovely red, too dripping pearly beads of precum, and the slight curve it had to it — made the ache in your cunt only grow. 

“Please, baby, I need, please—“ he’s whining, “I need you—“ 

And you oblige him, your hand beginning to spread the pre along his length, beginning to stroke him slowly from base to tip. He’s biting his lip, hard, nearly drawing blood as he chooses to bury his face in the crook of your neck, if only to muffle any moans that fell from his lips. 

“S’good for me, Yu, wanna make you feel as good as I did,” his moan vibrates against your skin, cock twitching in your fingers, “gonna move faster, don’t want our friends to see you like this, do you? You have to be quiet,” and god, why did only seem to get harder at your words? 

Your fingers begin to jerk him off in earnest, the wet squelch of his cock nearly not hidden enough by the volume of the TV, but nearly don’t care at this point — you just want him to fall apart under your touch, need him to. 

And oh, he’s so close. His groans are more frequent, his hips jerking against your fist, and when your other hand finds his balls, squeezing — it’s too much. 

He moans softly, “I’m—“ and that’s all he manages before he spills on your fingers — warm, white spurts splatter against your palm and the blanket, dripping, as he falls back, limp against the sofa. His cock softened in your hand, as you pull it away, before gently wiping him clean with the already drenched blanket. 

He’s panting and fucked out, eyes half lidded as his chest rises and falls, watching you lick your fingers clear of his release, gaze never leaving his. 

“Didn’t know you’d taste this good—“ you barely can manage, before he’s leaning forward to kiss you. Your fingers slide against his cheek to cup it, feeling his hand tangle itself in your hair, “Yuji—“ 

“What was that about?” he murmurs, “not that I’m complaining but—“ but then Megumi starts to move and you both freeze, your breath catching, until Megumi seemingly falls back asleep, “we should head to bed, but—“ 

He looks at the blanket, and the mess you made of him and the couch alike. 

“The blanket I’ll toss in the washer, the cushion I’ll clean up and just turn over—“ and you smile, “and you take a shower before bed,” 

His brow still knits together, “but we haven’t—“ 

“We’ll talk later,” and when later came, Yuji found you fast asleep in bed, with more questions than answers. But he supposed, as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his answers could come later. 

How long has it been? 

You stared at your phone — as if you could will it to receive the message you’ve been waiting for. As if it would grant your one and only wish for a text or a call — but it didn’t. Instead, it only gave you a spam call and a text to let you know you had a discount code for your favorite takeout place. 

Great. 

It had been a week since you had heard from Yuji — and a week since that night. You had woken up to the other three gone — gone off to their own apartments after you had slept in and texts on your phone from them in the groupchat. It was a few days before break — before you and Yuji would be heading back home for a few days together. But you hadn’t seen him at all since — not a chance to talk, much less seeing him. 

Was he upset? Was he done with this? Was his promise to stay empty in the end? Was it your fault — for pushing it, for agreeing to it, and for falling for it all the same? Falling for it or — your eyes trace the screen of your phone as if it’s his cheek — or falling for him. 

No, you rake your fingers through your hair, no, you didn’t love him — not like that. Not the way you shouldn’t, the way you had sworn yourself never to — but maybe all promises between friends were empty, when they were made like this. 

But you weren’t made to let this break apart. 

You found yourself at his door after classes, knocking at his door of his apartment. The door opens, and you find Yuji rubbing his eyes, hair askew, and shoulders drooped. 

“Hey,” he yawned, he’s still shaking off the shackles of sleep, “sorry, what’s up?” 

“Are you okay?” Your furrow your brow, your eyes spot the dark bags under his eyes, large enough to nearly engulf his eyes all together, “you look like you haven’t slept in days,” he steps aside to let you in, you glance around, his apartment wasn’t usually the cleanest — but it wasn’t a wreck like it was now. Clothes scattered, unwashed dishes stacked up, and papers strewn about. 

“I just haven’t…been sleeping—“ and then you remember. 

It wasn’t about you. It was about him. And you were so wrapped up in yourself, you weren’t thinking about him. 

“Yuji, you’re having those nightmares again, aren’t you?” You murmur softly, and the way his gaze falls to the ground tells you everything you need to know, “alright, go lay down,” 

“What?” he’s blinking, but your hand already finds his as you take him to his bedroom, “what are you—“ 

“You lay down. I’m going to make you dinner, and then you’re going to sleep,” and he sits on the bed reluctantly, fingers against his knees, as he bit his lip. 

“I can’t sleep, I told you—“ you cup his cheek, and guide his gaze to yours. 

“Remember what we’d do when you couldn’t sleep after the accident?” 

“This feels ridiculous,” Yuji murmurs into your chest, his head buried there, while your fingers run softly through his pink locks, “we’re not six anymore—“ 

“So what? Doesn’t mean we can’t do this still,” you say, as your fingers pause, “unless you don’t want me to,” 

“I didn’t say that,” he mumbles, and you can hear the blush in his voice that undoubtedly painted his cheeks, “I just meant it feels like I’m bothering—“ 

“Yu, don’t make me pinch you,” you murmur, rubbing his head, “you’re never a bother,” you kiss his head softly without thinking, and soon your cheeks are burning too, “sorry I didn’t—“ 

“Why are you sorry?” He chuckles, “we’ve done a lot more than kiss recently,” and he adds, “especially you,” 

You bite your lip, glad he couldn’t see your face like this, “I thought that’s why you weren’t talking to me, I thought you didn’t like what I did…on the couch, you know—“ 

“I know,” he chuckles this time, “and how could I not like that?” And you swallow the lump in your throat, as the two of you fall into a comfortable silence that you choose to breach. 

“You haven’t had these nightmares in a while,” you murmur quietly, before you add, “we don’t have to talk—“ 

“I know, but it happens from time to time, especially this month,” and your brow furrows, “don’t wrinkle your forehead at me,” and you lean back to gape at him, a smile pulling at his lips, “you always do that when you find out I’m keeping something from you,” 

He moves ever so slightly away, turning to look at the ceiling, “Well I think I have a right because this is a pretty big thing to keep from me, Yu,” you pout, and your fingers begin to absentmindedly trace his jaw, his eyes fluttering shut — you always treated him so gently, like that something that could shatter, but he knew you would always be there to put him back together. Because you did that once already. Over a decade ago, “why didn’t you tell me?” 

Because he didn’t want to worry you. Because he didn’t want you to think of him still as that broken kid you watched after when he had his world fall apart. 

Because he didn’t want you to take that burden — he wanted to handle it himself. 

“I didn’t want to bother you—“ 

“It’s never a bother when it’s you,” and his voice catches in his throat — fuck, how did you always know just what to say? 

He takes a breath, “it’s just the same dream. Of the crash,” he could see something so clearly that he never experienced. He was at home with you when the crash happened — a play date Yuji had insisted on when he had cried and begged his parents to stay with you instead of going to dinner with them. They had relented — and that was the thing that left him alone. 

It was lucky that his grandfather was able to take him in, and stay close by — so he still got to go to school with you. 

“Let’s try to sleep, ok?” You murmur, “you’ll feel better when you sleep,” you cup his cheek, and he’s biting his lip, “what is it?” 

“What if I see it again?” He whispers, as if he’s afraid that his words were any louder he would speak it into existence. 

“Come here,” you say softly, your fingers gently guide his head to face you,  “I’ll keep you safe, I promise,” A sigh leaves his lips as he moves closer, letting you engulf him in your arms, his eyes shutting, and letting himself relax for a moment — the first moment in far too many days. 

When he let himself slip into sleep’s embrace—it was the first night he didn’t dream of the crash — he dreamt of you.  

And when he woke in your arms in the morning, your soft lips parted as you slept, sunlight dappled on your skin through his window, and the way your fingers held onto the fabric of his shirt — he knew, he knew he had to tell you how he felt. 

He needed to end this — his fingers brushing a strand of hair behind your ear — if only to begin something new. 

You had to end it — it hadn’t sunk in until the car drove back home. The quiet morning drive left you both in a comfortable silence, the quiet white noise of his playlist, along with Yuji’s terrible singalongs and your bickering over his music choice. And you found yourself more than once staring at him as he drove, to the point where he had caught you looking. 

“What?” He tilts his head when the light turned red, fingers drumming on the steering, the other poking your side. 

“Nothing,” and you’re playfully slapping his hand away, a smile on your lips — same smile you always had with him. Always—because he’s your best friend. But he was so much more than that. 

You were in love. 

The two of you had returned to the place where you had laid your roots to rest and let your seed scatter to the wind. Only to return as a different flower altogether — but you knew, you couldn’t let it go on. 

It had become painfully clear that morning, you had woken first, the sun had not peaked over the horizon yet, and you found Yuji fast asleep — breaths even and face relaxed. You knew his parents had scarred him deeply — he spoke of them often, but not at all at — he mentioned their presence, but never his own feelings. You knew he had a habit of putting others above himself — but you had missed this — all of this week, you could have been there for him, but you were caught up in your own thoughts and you had made it all about yourself. 

And he deserved more than that. 

He deserved more than you. 

And you couldn’t risk losing him — lose him in a stupid argument or a disagreement and then never be able to comfort him again? Never be able to be by his side? You couldn’t bear to even fathom that. 

“Nanamin was asking about you,” Yuji says as the two of you walk home from the local convenience store — a late night run that produced a familiar bag of treats the two of you always shared when you came back home. 

“Oh really? Are classes over for high school already?” The English literature teacher had taken Yuji in for his last year and half of high school after his grandfather passed, and Yuji always stayed with him on breaks. 

“He asked if you were going to come with us to see my parents tomorrow morning,” it was a tradition to go visit Yuji’s parents graves each year around this time — you always paid your respects whenever you could, “he also said you’re free to stay over, but you have to sleep in a different bedroom,” you snort, “he said and I quote ‘we are past the age of sharing a room,’” You laugh, cheeks burning as you shake your head, “he’s not exactly wrong though,” his fingers graze yours, and there’s nothing more you want than to take his hand, but you know one way or another, you’d drop it in the end. Wouldn’t it be better now? When there isn’t far to fall? 

So you do, letting your hand fall away from his. 

“I’d be happy to see your parents, but I don’t know if staying over is a good idea—“ and he’s shaking his head with a chuckle in his throat. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t do anything you don’t want to—“ 

“We should stop, Yuji,” and his smile slips off his face as if it was slapped off, he blinks, shock settling into confusion. 

“Why?” Only one word and it manages to break you all the same. 

“We just shouldn’t. This was supposed to be about teaching me, but i think I’ve learned enough,” you’re turning away, but his fingers are gently finding your wrist, “Yuji—“ 

“You don’t think I can’t tell when you’re lying?” Yuji asks, and your glass-like facade shatters so easily — why does it always have to break so readily when it comes to him? 

But you pull away all the same, “I can’t do this anymore. Not like this. I don’t want to. I can’t lose you—“ 

“You won’t lose me—“ but you’re already walking off, sparing a glance back. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning when we leave, Yuji,” and he’s opening his mouth to call out, but he stops himself, watching you disappear up the street. 

What just happened? 

The car ride to the cemetery is notably silent. Yuji’s eyes burned when he woke, head aching from the circles he ran around in last night, trying to figure out what happened. Nanami drives in the quiet, his eyes noting when Yuji chooses to sit passenger instead of beside you, only with one glance that’s averted after Yuji refuses to meet it. 

Yuji didn’t know what to make of what you said. After everything, he thought maybe — just maybe, you felt the same as he did. He thought he could tell you tomorrow, tell you when the two of you were alone — and even if it didn’t work out, it would be okay. 

But now — as his eyes stole a look at you in the rear view mirror, he wondered if it ever would be okay again. 

You left the car a moment to go use the bathroom when they stopped to fill gas in the car, and that’s when Nanami speaks. 

“So did you finally ask her out and she said no?” And Yuji’s head snaps to his, but Nanami only stares back, “you aren’t hard to read, Itadori. You’ve liked her for a long time,” 

Yuji scratches the back of his head, “I did something, kinda stupid,” and Nanami tilts his head, “really stupid, ok? And I was going to tell her how I felt, but she broke off what we were doing—“ 

“You weren’t dating?” Yuji’s cheeks burn as he waves off his teacher. 

“That’s not important! But what do I do, Nanamin?” the blond haired teacher raised an eyebrow. 

“It’s not hard to know what to do, Itadori. It’s what you should have done. Tell her how you feel,” and then you’re walking back to the car, “come on, let’s get back. We’re close now.” 

And your gaze avoids his own when Yuji watches you get back in the car, and his lips part as if to stop you — but he doesn’t. 

Not yet. 

You stood with Yuji as he tended to his parents’ graves. Simple stones that he was able to put in with time from his part time jobs, ones he had insisted he would pay for himself — refusing any help from anyone, even you. You knelt down, helping him clear the strewn dead leaves, brushing away dirt and snow — your fingers brushing when you both reach for the same place. 

And your eyes meet, as both of your fingers intertwine slowly — the three of you pay your respects, and Nanami finally stands. 

“I’ll wait for you two at the car,” Nanami says with a nod, leaving the two of you alone. You both already had placed offerings at their graves, arranging them slowly, as the two of you stand, the silence of the cemetery hanging overhead — light streaming in between clouds in the overcast sky, the sounds of the wind rustling the trees the only thing in the quiet. 

“Thank you for coming,” Yuji says softly, and your blink, eyes sliding to his. 

“You never have to thank me for that, Yuji,” you squeeze his hand, “as long as you want me to come, I’ll always be here. And I’ll always pay my respects to your parents, regardless of that,” you say, and that's exactly why you had to stop with him. You couldn’t bear to lose him — lose this, not when he’s lost too much and he was too much for you to lose, “come on, we should get back to the car,” as you pull your hand away from his. 

And maybe things could get back to normal. 

“I know,” and he doesn’t move as you turn to leave, “and that’s why I love you,” 

And you smile, “I love you too—“ 

“I don’t mean it like that,” and you freeze a moment, his words barely processing before he continues to speak, “I mean I do love you in that way too — but that’s not how I meant it now,” he says, as you turn to face him — not finding a hint of humor on his expression. 

“Yuji—“ your brain can barely process your best friend confessing to you — much less next to his parents’ graves— “should we be having this conversation—“ 

“It’s the perfect place to have this conversation,” he glances around at all of the graves, and he’s shaking his head, “maybe not the perfect place, but—“ his gaze softens when he finds yours, “you saved me,” 

“Yuji—“ 

“No, you did. After my parents died,” he stares at the stones side by side — “I could barely function. I barely wanted to do anything but sleep — but you, you pulled me out of bed. You made me go places. You made me smile again,” he says, “but that’s not the reason I fell in love with you,” his lips curl into a soft smile, “it’s because it’s you — your smile, your laugh, your being — it reminded me of happiness existed, and then I realized you were the only person who could make me happy the way you do,” 

“Yuji—“ 

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same. But I don’t want to lose you, lose this chance to tell you how I feel, to tell you—“ 

“Yuji—“ 

“And I’ve always loved you — there’s never been—“ and you’re hugging him, before you even know you are, your arms are around his middle, face buried in his chest, as he murmurs your name. 

“The only reason I broke it off was,” your voice wavers despite your efforts to force it to stay even, “I didn’t to lose you by not being good enough—“ 

“You just have to be you,” his brow furrowed into the same valleys he teased you for, “you’re all I need,” his hand finds your cheek, guiding your gaze to his, “how could you think you weren’t enough?”

“You don’t tell how you feel sometimes — you don’t tell me what you’re thinking, I didn’t even know you had nightmares—“ you break off, “what if we continued this and you realized you deserved better than me? And it was already too late for me because I love—“ you break off. 

“You what?” he asks, and you’re biting your lip, “I’ll say it again if it will make you—“ 

Fuck it. 

You lean up and press your lips to his, swallowing his words as your hand finds purchase on his shoulder. And it felt right. As it always did with Yuji. 

“I love you too,” you whisper against his lips, “I love you, in the same way you do,” 

“As a friend?” And your brow furrows, “kidding! Kidding—ow!” You’re smacking him playfully, before he catches both of your wrists and pulls you close, “does that mean I can call you mine?” 

“Or baby,” and he flushes, a cute pout on his lips, “what? Isn’t it—“ and he’s kissing you again, your heart leaping as he does, his hands sliding around your hips, “Yu-“ 

“And what’s my pet name? You still haven’t given me one—“ 

“Have some decorum,” a voice cuts through, and the two of you jump apart, as Nanami stands, glaring at the two of you, “come on, if you’re done paying your respects, then we should go home,” he sighs, rubbing his temples, “the dead shouldn’t have to put up with this.” 

Yuji’s cheeks are tomato red at this point — as he covers his face— but you only chuckle, your fingers intertwining with his, squeezing, “c’mon let’s go, and maybe I can give you a pet name when we get home,” and you both turn to face his parents, as you pay your respects and head down the path a little. 

Yuji faces his parents, kneeling down to say goodbye again — and he remembers how it was their idea to set up Yuji to have a playdate with you, all those years ago. And now, here you were — the most important person in his life. 

“Thank you for everything you did for me,” and he glances at you over his shoulder as he gets up, “especially for helping me find her.” 

“Yu-ji—“ you gasp, as he’s tugging you into your bedroom, bumping himself carelessly into the wall as he guides you both to your bedroom. You giggle as he presses you against the wall outside your room, “I text you my parents are going out for dinner and this is how you greet me? What happened to hello—“ 

His lips crash against yours and you forget about ‘hello’ and just about every other word in your head. Your lips curl against his lips, as his body cages you against the wall. It had been a few days since you and Yuji had been able to have a moment alone—Nanami was watching you both cautiously, while your parents had been keeping you busy at home, seeing family or cleaning up around the house. And Yuji was growing increasingly desperate for some time with you — that wasn’t hidden brushes of fingers under the table or stolen kisses out of sight from family or friends. 

“I missed you so much, baby,” he’s murmuring — and you didn’t know it was so possible to look like a kicked puppy so much until you met Yuji, “can’t believe Nanami was so mean and kept making us keep the door open—“ 

“It didn’t help that he walked in us making out on your bed three times—“ and a moan escapes your lips as he kisses your neck, teeth grazing against your racing pulse, “fuck, Yu—“ 

“How do you always taste so good?” he mumbles against you as he leads you inside your bedroom and shuts the door. His eyes glance around your childhood room, as he takes in the childhood posters plastered on the walls, the untouched books, the stuffed animals from a millennium ago that still lined your bed. 

“My family has not changed much here for years,” your cheeks burn, as he only chuckles, walking you backwards into your bed, and you climb into the bed, only grabbing a stuffed animal from behind you, “remember this?” 

He snorts, as he takes the stuffed penguin from your hands, “How could I forget? I tried a million times to win this,” 

You tilt your head, “You said you won it your first try—“ and you gasp as he looks away, cheeks flushed, “you were trying to impress me,” 

“Not that much,” and you’re leaning closer, brushing your lips against his, “maybe just a little,” you kiss him more insistently this time, sliding against his, fingers curling in his soft strands, “maybe too much,” and you smirk, noses bumping as your lips find each other’s again and again. 

And your fingers slide down to drag his shirt up and over, freeing his chest and abs to your sight — and what a sight it is. So toned and tanned from his American football practices in the sun — perfect for your fingers and lips to explore the peaks and valleys of his body, hands already far too eager.

He returns the favor by lifting your own shirt off in an instant, groaning when he finds you wearing nothing underneath — your eyes can’t help but flit down and find his erection already tenting in his sweatpants. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re so perfect,” his eager hands are already teasing and palming you breasts, a whimper drawn out by his precise pinches and touches, “so good for me,” and your hands drag down his chest, leaning down to press kisses to his chest as your fingers trace along his abs, making him groan. 

He’s pouting, after he pulls you into another kiss, “it’s not fair,” he mumbles into the side of your neck, “I feel like I’m always the one who’s more nervous than you are,” 

You chuckle, kissing his jaw, “I felt the same way, why do you think I touched you on our TV marathon that night?” 

And he’s blinking, as you lay back on the bed for him, “you didn’t know—“ you shake your head. 

“You had offered to help get experience, and even when we had done things, you were just so…normal,” he chuckles, before laying beside you. 

“I had some practice acting normal around you, but I really didn’t. I think you nearly gave me a heart attack that night,” and you grin, drawing so close that you even feel the hitch of his breath. 

“That good, huh?” You tease, and it only takes a moment until he’s hovering over you, lust pooled in his gaze that lights a fire on your body wherever it lays. 

And his lips meet yours right after he whispers, “I’ll show you good.” 

“One more, baby,” Yuji tells you, but you barely hear it through the haze of pleasure and heat that fills the room, along with the sounds of the squelch of his fingers in your tight cunt, “just need one more,” 

And how many times had he made you orgasm already? You’d lost count — five or six at least. The first had taken some time, working his finger into your weeping slit, the way your walls stretch around him make you wonder how good it will feel when he fucks you. It’s not long before he’s sinking another finger in, the sounds and feelings of his digits curling is enough to bring you to orgasm. And the rest are a blur — another finger in your tight entrance, fucking you open as he toyed with your walls, until you came again and again. 

And now he bent down, lips around your clit, teasing and sucking at the sensitive bud, as your fingers curled in his pink locks as the lewd moans fell from your mouth with ease. You’re so close — so fucking close, and when his fingertips brush against that spot and it’s all too much. 

You cum around his fingers and mouth, his name on your lips as you do, back arching against him, as he eases his fingers from your cunt. He licks his fingers clean as your eyes flutter open to meet his, “You taste so good, baby — you’re perfect,” and you watch as his tongue flicks out to clean his lips and chin of your sticky release. 

And soon enough he’s kissing you, hand cupping your cheek, letting you taste yourself on his lips, as your fingers drag over his bare chest and follow his happy trail into the elastic of his boxers. A soft moan leaves his kiss ruined lips, as his eyes are lidded with lust, soft pants against your skin. 

“Is this a dream?” Yuji murmurs, his lips ghosting along your jaw, “never thought we would get here,” and you turn your head to meet his lips in another sweet kiss. 

“It isn’t, we’re here. Took us long enough,” your lips curl, your fingers tracing over his cheek, “and nowhere else I rather be — or no one else I rather be with,” 

“You sure?” And you’ve flipped him over, kissing down his body, fingers tugging at the elastic of his boxers until his dick is freed from the fabric, “fuck, baby, you don’t have—“ 

And his words are cut off with a grunt as your fingers grazes his erection, teasing his weeping head. You start to pump up and down, working the thick beads of precum over his length, his head falling back. 

“How’s your cock so pretty, Yu?” you coo, blowing air over his dick, making him twitch in your hand, “never thought one of these would ever be so pretty,” you let his length slap against your tongue, slowly dragging it down your 

He hisses, hands grasping at the sheets, as you bend down to flick his tongue against the head of his cock. Your lips close around it, and suck, raising the back of his hand to cover his mouth, “fuck, s’good, baby, I—“ 

And you’re letting his cock sink past your lips, your tongue flicking against his slit. Your eyes find his own, as you hollow out your cheeks and sucking hard, and his hips buck into your mouth. His tip brushes against your throat, and you’re moaning around him, your fingers cup his balls, nails digging into your scalp. 

“Baby, fuck, I’m close—where—“ and he’s trying to ease you off, but your hands only hold his hips in place. Your nose brushing against his pubes. And when you’re suck hard on his tip, toying with his sack, only for him to moan your name, before cumming down your throat, his hot release painting your insides. 

You’re slowly pulling off his dick, a string of cum and spit connecting your lips to his cock, a smile on your face. You swallow his release, the salty taste still on your lips as you watch him pant, chest rising and falling. 

“Taste so good, Yu,” you murmur, and you’re moving back up to kiss him, “think I’m addicted,” you murmur, as your lips find each other again and again. 

“Now you know how I feel,” he smiles, fingers running through your hair, “been addicted to you for over a decade,” and he’s sitting up, guiding you into his lap slowly, “we can always stop right here, we don’t have—“ 

You kiss him softly, the way he deserved, the way you’ve wanted to for so long, “I want to, Yuji, I really want to,” your fingers intertwine with his, squeezing his hand, his arm slipping around your waist, “because I love you,” 

And your fingers grasp his hardening cock, pressing it to your dripping slit, and god, he’s so fucking big. You knew how big he was, but just feeling him pressed against you makes you ache at how he’ll be stretching you out. He drags his dripping tip against your slit, letting your cum mix together, letting his head catch on your clit. 

Finally, you’re sinking onto him, his thick length parting your walls, inch by inch. Your head falls back, as he leans into your touch, watching you flinch at the stretch, “you okay?” Yuji’s pressing sweet kisses to your lips and cheek, “should I stop—“ 

“No, no, I’m fine, it’s starting to feel good,” your arms wrapping around his neck, burying your face in the crook of his neck, “ and he’s helping you sink into him, until finally your hips are flush to his, “fuck, Yu—you’re so deep—“ his cock twitches against your walls, a shiver up his spine at your words. 

And he’s panting, his lips pressed to your shoulder, “you feel s’good, baby — so wet and warm—“ you smile, cupping his cheek, “can’t believe this is real — can’t believe—“ 

“It’s real, Yuji, it’s real,” your lips curl into a smile, “I’m here, I love you,” 

“I love you too, I love you so much,” he kisses you again and again, as he shifts slowly under you, swallowing a gasp that leaves your lips. 

“Please, Yuji, move—“ and he obliges, beginning to fuck into you, and your head falls back, as his cock rocks into you, a moan falling from your lips as you do. He’s groaning your name again and again, a grunt when you begin to ride him in tandem, both of your thrusts sending him deeper into you. 

“Baby, fuck, you’re perfect. You’re so good f’me,” his lips finding your neck, as his strokes become faster and deeper, the sounds of your skin slapping together rings in your ears as he fucks you harder and harder, “g’nna cum, s’close,“ 

“I’m close too,” you’re panting as his lips find yours in a sloppy, messy kiss that has you losing yourself more and more, as his thrusts become more and more swallow. And when he finds your clit between your bodies, rubbing as he finds that one spot that has you seeing stars, “Yuji- I’m—“ 

And you cum hard around him, soaking his cock and thighs as you do, walls squeezing him tight until he’s spilling his warm seed inside you. You slow as you do, legs quivering, as you nearly slump against him and he holds you impossibly closer. He helps you both detangle, easing his softening cock from inside you, a small groan as he sees your mixed releases leaking from you. He helps you lie back, as he wraps his arms around you, running his fingers through your hair. 

“Are you okay?” he whispers, brow furrowed in slight worry as your eyes flutter open, lips curling as your fingers smooth the wrinkles of his forehead. 

“I’d be better if you’d kiss me,” you whisper and he obliges, a soft kiss to your lips that leaves you warmer than you were before, “now I’m perfect,” 

“You always were,” and you chuckle, rolling your eyes, before shaking your head, burying your face in the crook of his neck. 

“No, that’s because I had an excellent teacher,” and he laughs, before he pulls you even closer, finding your lips in a kiss. 

“And you always will.” 

“Come on, Fushiguro, pay up,” Nobara holds out her hand, as Megumi glares, pulling out his wallet and plucking money from his wallet and handing it to her. 

“You cheated,” he says as she snatches the money, counting it with a grin on her lips, “I don’t know what you did, but I know you did,” 

“You never said we couldn’t give them advice,” she grins, as she pockets his money, “and all I did was give Yuji a nudge, he’s the one who fucked—“ 

“Alright,” Megumi rubs his temples, “I get it, but it’s still unfair — we’ve been waiting for them to get together all these years and all of sudden he gets the idea to become her friends with benefits—“ and Nobara only grins wider, “you didn’t—“ 

She shrugs, “you can wait around for two idiots to figure it out, or you can shove them off the deep end.” 

“I knew you cheated,” Megumi grumbles, “that’s the last time I ever make a bet with you, Kugisaki,” 

And she smirks, “Well now you’ve been taught a lesson too.” 

✧ a/n: another celebration fic done! now just one more and then i can start preparing for the next follower celebration :). i've settled on using wips but i'll pick out a bunch of prompts for you all to request for certain ones. that way, you all have had a hand in them <3. thank you to laney for helping beta <3.

✧ taglist: @adrenova, @nakariabnrb, @skvllknight, @hanlay, @spider-fan72, @anonimusunnoaniswriting, @chososcamgirl, @thenezuko, @catsgomurp, @too-much-snow, @sashaiko, @forest-fruits-jam, @rita-ritarita, @anyaeuh, @dezznuggetsblog, @jayathelostdragon, @newspapergirlmal, @2livelaughlovefictionalmen2, @being-me-is-not-a-sin, @xoocii, @firelordazulaaaa, @cira273, @twosec0nd, @ororomunroro, @sunamatic, @withoutanameyet, @gojorgeous, @masctomboy805, @hantaslittlearsonist, @lemonpoppy-seed, @malmare, @teraine, @boopadoopa333, @jeyughh, @coffeebun17, @faeryli, @katienaps, @tojbitch, @fushitoru, @soulofoz, @yamaguccitadashi

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[ja3yun]

please be real | p.js

ex!jay x fem!reader warnings: angst, heartache, smut (mdni), fingering, unprotected sex, cream pie, teasing, pet names (princess, baby), crying, mentions of alcohol, drunk jay, pure heartbreak in the beginning, not proofread, anything else lmk synopsis: after a six-year relationship, you and jongseong part ways due to different needs for the future. when jongseong's first birthday post-breakup arrives, his struggle with your absence reaches a breaking point, prompting a late-night call from his friend that consequently reignites emotions and unresolved feelings. wc: 9.4k a/n: hi! it's me and it's jay's birthday so i wrote him a little something something. i didn't initially intend to rip my heart out as i wrote this yet here i am. this was oddly a healing one to write but i must warn you it does mention the reader not wanting to have children so if that doesn't appeal to you then this probs isn't the fic for you! as always, like, comments, feedback, etc. is all appreciated! ilysm and happy bday jay <3

A sharp, jarring noise pierces your ears, the peaceful sleep you were in rudely disrupted. You groan out loud, covering your face with your covers but it does nothing to stop the ringing from your phone, it doesn’t even dull it a little, the little black device only echoing around the room louder.

Disoriented and groggy, you fumble for your phone on the bedside table, clumsily searching for it in the darkness. It isn’t your alarm, the usual peaceful tones of the birds chirping would be a welcomed sound, one that eases you into the day; no this was a phone call.

Finally grasping your phone, your eyes fight themselves open as you blink away any remnants of sleep, trying to find any sort of centre from your dizzy awakening. You look at the name on your phone but your vision is so blurred you can’t make it out but answer it anyway, knowing that whoever is phoning at this ungodly hour is clearly in need of your help.

“Hello?” you ask quietly, as if you don’t want to disturb the quiet of the night, unlike the person on the other end of the call.

“Uh, Y/N? It’s Jake.” His soft Australian accent drifts from your phone speaker into your ears. He sounds unsure whether he is supposed to be making the call, which to be fair, you understand because you haven’t heard from him in months, not after…

Letting out a sigh, you rub your forehead with the base of your palm tiredly, “Jake, why the fuck are you calling me at…” you pull the phone away, inspecting the time now that you’re more alert, “3.36am?” you ask with a hint of disdain. Normally, you would welcome the boy’s surprise call, after all, you did miss him. But considering he woke you up from a good dream involving you, Jeongin from Stray Kids, and a happily ever after; he wasn’t exactly your favourite person right now.

You can faintly hear some music in the background as he stays silent and you swear to yourself if this is to give him a ride home from a concert turned party, you’ll have his head.

“Listen, I hate to ask you this but can you come to Haven?”

“The nightclub? Why?” Your earlier suspicions are proving to be right, he does want a lift home. That would be an acceptable request if you guys were actively talking every day and the best of buddies but he isn’t even your friend, not really. 

You can hear him shuffling around on the other end of the line, his voice can be heard trying to calm someone down but his words are obscured as if the phone is wrested away from his mouth, leaving only disjointed fragments of speech drifting through the receiver. 

This sounds like more than just a simple ride home and it causes you to snap to attention, your senses heightened with concern. 

Jake finally brings his attention back to you, letting out a sigh of discontentment, “It’s Jay, he’s a mess and he’s calling out for you.”

Jay. Park Jongseong.

It’s been so long since anyone has dared to mention his name to you that it almost sounds like a foreign word.

Seven months ago, you and Jongseong had decided to call off your 6-year relationship, both of you reaching the understanding that it was for the best considering your battling differences and needs within the relationship.

It wasn’t easy, the furthest thing from it actually. You and him had been inseparable since high school and once you both got together in year 12, it was always you and him against the world. He was the love of your life, that once in a lifetime kind of love that only happens in fairytales. Your souls were both painted from the same brush stroke.

But he wanted a peaceful, routine life - a classic white picket fence dream. Evenings would be spent with friends, savouring white wine and casual conversations over dinner. His heart was set on imagining the echoes of your future children's laughter filling your home, family trips to the seaside, and comforting them with kisses and band-aids when they got hurt.

And you craved spontaneity, to embrace life with vigour, travelling the world together was your dream, free from the responsibilities of parenting, cherishing moments just for yourselves. You longed for random midnight trips to Tesco for birthday cake simply because you could. All you wished for was to be with him, just the two of you.

Suddenly, your brain clicks into an important detail and you hurriedly check the calendar on your phone and the date makes you slump in your bed.

Today is Jongseong’s birthday, well technically not anymore given the time, but that means he has lived his first birthday without you by his side in so long. You would always celebrate his big day by doing something from his handwritten bucket list he has had since he was a child. Over the years he has added more to the list, each birthday scoring one out to add another.

The list wasn't extravagant; it was filled with simple yet heartfelt desires. You bought him a bundle of guitar lessons and a Taylor 114e electric guitar to fulfil his wish of learning to play. When you noticed the Download Festival marked with gold stars on his list, you surprised him with tickets for the year Metallica was headlining. And when he expressed a desire to cook a meal from scratch for his mum, you gifted him a kitchen knife engraved with his name and took the time to teach him how to prepare her favourite dish.

His birthdays were the most precious when you were in them, and you weren’t there with him.

“Y/N?” Jake’s sweet voice draws you back to his attention and out of the memory lane swirl your brain has put you in. He knows this is a tough call for you to take considering you and Jongseong said to cut ties completely; it’s better to act like you both didn’t exist than keep a thread tethered to one another that would only hurt you more.

As Jake and Sunghoon whisked Jay away for his birthday celebration, their intention was simple: to help him let loose and have a good time. Jay had been buried in overtime work lately, leaving little room for socialising. Since the breakup, the idea of going out without you - dancing together, stealing kisses in the taxi ride home - seemed unappealing.

Waking up that morning, Jay realised it marked the first birthday in six years without ticking something off his bucket list. The familiar, worn paper lay dormant on his desk, a stark reminder of your absence. He had no desire to celebrate today without you by his side. If he could fast-forward through the day to escape the weight of his birthday, he would eagerly do so.

Yet, with two very persuading friends and a whole lot of whiskey later, here he was, curled up outside Haven, yearning out for you.

“Y/N please, at least come and convince him to get up and come home with us,” Jake pleads. You can hear the cries of your ex-lover more clearly now as Jake kneels beside his friend, checking in on him.

With a resigned sigh, you nod, “Okay. Keep him warm, I’ll be there in 20 minutes.”

Hanging up the phone, you quickly put a brush through your hair and change into a baggy top, one you bought for Jongseong before breaking up, and a pair of grey sweatpants. This is a bad idea, you know it is, but you also can’t leave him to wallow in the middle of the street. You don’t think you could live with yourself if you didn’t help and Jake wouldn’t call unless it was something he couldn’t handle. 

You don’t want to see the state Jongseong is in, his wailing cries that you could slightly hear over the phone already made your heart clench in hurt.

As you drive to Haven, your heart races in anticipation with each mile that passes. Is your heart ready to face him after all these months? Staring into the love of your life’s eyes once again might break you even more. You’ve done a good job in keeping yourself together, at putting on a facade that everything is okay, when deep down you know that if one person asked you about Jongseong you would crumble and fall apart. 

He wasn’t the only one throwing himself into work to forget. You’ve worked hours and hours trying to keep your mind off the heartbreak, you thought that if you just focused and kept your head down, the phrase time heals all wounds would kick in and you’d be free of the torment of losing your first love. But it hasn’t worked out that way, you know that now as you speed down the empty roads to console the one person you are trying to forget.

As you reach Haven, you can vaguely see three boys under the illuminating sign, almost as if shining a spotlight on them to add to the spectacle that Jongseong is making. Onlookers are watching as your ex-boyfriend cries on the pavement, wishing you would come home.

With a quick exhale, you step out of the car before doubts can creep in, determined to be there for him. Jake and Sunghoon's voices float to you, attempting to soothe him and inject some sense into the moment. Bracing yourself, you approach, ready to offer whatever comfort you can, despite the storm of emotions swirling within you.

Sinking onto the balls of your feet, you lower yourself to Jongseong's level, meeting his strained figure. Instantly, the sight of his distress instantly shatters your heart into a million pieces.

An abundance of tears cascades down Jongseong's reddened face, obscuring his features like a relentless waterfall. His clenched jaw and the prominent vein on his forehead portray the intensity of his distress as he struggles to draw each laboured breath. Curled into himself, his body seems to contort with the weight of physical agony, mirroring the emotional pain that ripples through his trembling form. He’s been keeping this in for so long that his body doesn’t know how to cope with it.

Reaching out to grab his clenched fist, you shuffle forward, “Jjongie? It’s me, baby, look at me,” you say calmly, trying to reassure him with your soft voice.

As your fingers gently encircle his clenched fist, Jongseong's body tenses at the touch. Slowly, he turns his gaze towards you, his eyes bloodshot and filled with an overwhelming mixture of sorrow and longing. For a moment, there's a flicker of recognition in his eyes before they cloud over again with anguish.

He doesn’t believe you’re actually here, considering the long nights where he has conjured up the idea of you, clinging to his imagination on the lonely nights he wishes for your touch. But as you squeeze his hand, he realises this isn’t a dream-induced sighting, you’re really here in front of him.

"Y/N..." he murmurs, his voice choked with emotion. Tears stream down his face in torrents, some landing on your hand that holds his. His cries reverberate through the air, each wail a sharp stab to your chest.

Cupping his cheek, you settle yourself between his legs, ignoring the discomfort of the rocks beneath your knees, your focus solely on him. With a sad smile, you attempt to mask your own anguish, your touch a gentle reassurance amidst his storm of emotions.

"Hey, hey, enough of that now," you hush him softly, your voice a soothing melody in the tumultuous night. Using your thumb, you tenderly wipe away his tears, though they continue to flow unabated.

He leans into your touch, “I miss you so much, Y/N, please. Please,” he pleads as you feel his warm breath against your skin as he nuzzles into your palm, seeking solace in the familiar sensation he's been yearning for.

It’s hurting you just seeing him like this, the man you once knew to be strong-willed and resilient, keeping his emotions under control unless he’s sharing sweet vulnerable moments with you under the covers, is now a shell of himself, stripped bare by the weight of grief.

Turning your face to look at Jake, you offer him a small smile, “I’ll take him home.”

“You sure?” Jake asks, knowing that it’s a dangerous game for you both if you do.

“Yeah, I don’t think he’s going to move unless I do,” you chuckle sympathetically but there’s a bubble in your throat as Jongseong’s whimpers flow into your ear from beside you.

Nodding, Jake gestures to Sunghoon, silently enlisting his help in the task of ferrying the drunk man to your car. The weight of Jongseong's limp form proves cumbersome as you all struggle to navigate his dead weight, his limbs hanging heavily without offering any assistance.

"Let's get you home," you murmur softly, your hands pressing gently against Jongseong's chest to steady him, aided by his friends who lift him onto their shoulders.

His eyes lock onto yours, an intensity burning within them. "Please be real," he whispers, his voice trembling with desperation. Despite feeling your touch and catching hints of your scent, doubt gnaws at him. If this is merely a figment of his imagination, he knows he'll never forgive himself. You're so close, so tangible - it has to be you.

With much struggle, the three of you get him to your car, putting him gently in the backseat so he can lie down, but he wraps his arms around your waist as his legs stay situated outside of the vehicle, holding you close to him.

"Come on, Jjongie, lie down for a minute," you coax gently, guiding him to stretch out along the seats. But he remains unmoving, clutching onto you as if fearing you'll slip away if he lets go. With a soft sigh, you stroke the back of his head, your hands moving in a soothing rhythm. "I promise, I am not going anywhere," you whisper, your words a tender vow to him.

Yet, your attempts to reassure him seem to go unheard. His face burrows deeper into your stomach, his words muffled by the fabric of your t-shirt and the weight of his tears.

You exchange a worried glance with Jake and Sunghoon, “How much did he have to drink?” you ask, scared of the answer they will give. Your ex-boyfriend has always been so good at holding his liquor that it must have been a hefty amount he consumed.

“Like two weeks' wage worth,” Sunghoon winces, his neck tightening as he looks at his best friend.

"Oh, baby..." you sigh softly, feeling a wave of empathy wash over you. Returning your attention to Jongseong, you press a tender kiss to the crown of his head, hoping to offer some comfort amidst his distress. His response is to cling to you even tighter, his sobs echoing against your chest as he seeks solace in your embrace.

You need to get him home, he’s a mess and the longer he stays like this, the more his body is going to wear out. 

With a gentle hand, you stroke his hair, your touch a soothing caress against his trembling form. Despite the chaos swirling around you, you find a semblance of peace in this intimate moment, anchored by the bond that still lingers between you.

"I've got you, Jjongie," you whisper softly, drawing back as he eases up his grip on you. His friends go to help you but you halt them with a firm gesture, "You guys can go, I've got it from here."

Sunghoon shakes his head, concern etched on his face. "He's too heavy, Y/N. You won't be able to manage him into the flat without us," he protests.

But you stand your ground. This is your and Jongseong's mess, and you can’t let others help you clean it up, "It's okay. You guys have done your shift for tonight. Go home," you insist, your voice resolute.

Reluctantly, Sunghoon and Jake nod and bid you goodnight before going their separate ways home, leaving you alone with Jongseong and the weight of your shared history.

Taking a deep breath, you hoist him in, his body listening to you a little more now that you’ve reassured him you aren’t leaving him. He sprawls over the backseats and lays still, the alcohol consuming him into some form of comatose now that he has relaxed slightly.

You slide into the driver's seat, the engine humming to life beneath you. Glancing at Jongseong's slumbering form in the rearview mirror, you steel yourself for the journey ahead.

_____

Arriving at his house makes you more nervous than before. This wasn’t just his flat, it used to be your shared home, the place you lived for 2 and half years and made countless memories in.

You were the one to move out and find your own place, thinking it was best since your work was further away and you could find an apartment closer to it. But the truth is, you just couldn’t face being reminded of him in each room and in the pieces of furnishings.

It was selfish of you to leave him with the remnants of your relationship surrounding him, all you thought about was you and your needs, neglecting to think about how he might feel being surrounded by nothing but memories.

Lugging him into the flat, his legs are working in tandem with you now unlike before but he still isn’t proving to be the easiest person to carry. The last time you had to hold his weight like this was when he got drunk at your prom after taking sneaky shots in the hotel garden with his friends. It was funny but you blame him for some of your back pain that you’ve endured in your early twenties.

As you push open the door and step into the living room, a wave of nostalgia washes over you like a tsunami. Though only seven months have passed, it feels like a lifetime since you last stood in this space with him by your side. Everything remains unchanged, frozen in time since the day you left. The same couch sits in its familiar spot, adorned with throw pillows and blankets you bought for last season. Photographs of you both, captured during Christmases and holidays, adorn the walls, each one a snapshot of happier times. Even the vase that his mum had gotten you both for your housewarming gift, one that you loved and he hated, remains in its pride of place on the mantlepiece.

You push your thoughts down and make your way to your once-shared bedroom, walking through the memories and heaving your ex-boyfriend along slowly. His nose nudges into your hair, sweeping in your scent as he loses himself in the feeling of you.

As you reach the familiar threshold, you can't help but feel a pang of bittersweet longing. This room, once a sanctuary where you both shared your laughter and bodies, now serves as a poignant reminder of the love you've lost.

Gently, you ease Jongseong onto the bed, sitting him up, “I’m going to get you some clean boxers okay?” you ask him but he’s not here, not really, so you make your way to the drawers on the other side of the room.

Walking over, you spot a familiar t-shirt lying crumpled on your old side of the bed. You make a b-line to investigate it and as you pick up the crumpled t-shirt, a flood of memories washes over you, transporting you back to simpler times. Your fingers trace the familiar fabric, still faintly carrying the scent of you, now mingled with his cologne. You piece it all together pretty quickly, the way it still smells faintly of you but is not starting to be overpowered by his cologne. He hugs it at night to find peace of mind.

“Oh, Jjongie,” you sigh, heart reaching out to him. You’re no better, you have one of his hoodies that you snuck into your luggage as you packed and wear it when you’re at home. Just like your t-shirt, his hoodie is starting to lose its scent from the amount of times you’ve hugged yourself to sleep in it.

Jongseong has always been reserved, his emotions carefully guarded behind a facade of reason and rationale. To see him like this, vulnerable and raw, strikes a chord deep within you. If he had always worn his heart on his sleeve, perhaps it would be easier to understand. But the complexity of his emotions only serves to deepen the ache in your chest.

You place the t-shirt back on the pillow before opening the dresser drawer and retrieve a clean pair of boxers, his favourite ones with the faded Hellow Kitty print that you've always teased him about.

Gently, you begin to undress him while he rambles incoherent nonsense that you can’t understand between the mix of tears and drunk slurring. The top half is easy but the bottom half proves difficult as he only looks up at you, whispering pleas as he stares at you, keeping his bum firmly sat on the edge of the bed.

As you finally manage to remove Jongseong's jeans and boxers, leaving him naked, a new layer of vulnerability settles over the room. He sits before you bathed in the soft glow of the hallway light, his silhouette outlined in the darkness.

His beauty, illuminated by the faint light, is both captivating and heartbreaking. The familiarity of his form, once etched in your memory, now lays before you in the flesh, a tangible reminder of the love you still harbour for him. How could you not still love him? He was perfect in every way possible.

"Stay with me," he whispers, his voice a gentle plea as his hands begin to roam your sides, tracing the contours of your body beneath your shirt. Each touch ignites a flurry of sensations within you, sending butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

He pulls you onto his lap, your sweatpants becoming the barrier between his cock and your pussy. Yet, none of you are really thinking about that right now, all you both want is to hold one another again.

“Jongseong, we broke up, and for good reason,” you rationalise with not only him but yourself as you find yourself sinking into his touch as his hands roam your back.

Nuzzling his nose against yours, he begins to cry softly again, his face rubbing itself against yours as his tears transfer from his cheeks to yours, “Please, baby, don’t leave me,” he mumbles as his lips ghost over yours. 

He doesn’t just mean tonight, he means forever. A tear from your eye cascades down your face, getting lost in the mixture of his, your empathy for him overwhelming you because you feel the same way he does. You need him in every way, you need to be close to him, to feel his heart beating in synch with yours once again.

But you know better than this. You’re both just prolonging heartache if you succumb to being with him again. You can’t give each other what you need.

“Baby, don’t do this,” you beg him, knowing that he has the power to pull you back into his life with the click of his fingers, that resolve you have worked so hard to build up now hangs in the balance, “Let me get you changed and then into bed, yeah?”

Reasoning with him is a lost cause, his arms now hugging you tightly like before as he ignores your suggestion. The last thing he wants is to put on those boxers because he knows when he does that you’ll leave. 

"Please, Princess," his voice is raw with emotion, his desperation palpable in the air between you. And as you look into his eyes, you see the depth of his longing mirrored in your own. 

His plea hangs in the air, a heavy weight pressing down on your already burdened heart. You feel torn between the overwhelming desire to give in to his request and the harsh reality of the situation.

With a deep breath, you summon the strength to gently extricate yourself from his embrace, feeling the weight of his disappointment lingering in the air. His hurt expression tugs at your heartstrings, but you shake your head firmly, "Just tonight, okay?" you assure him, your voice soft but resolute.

Curse you and your heart that caves into his pleas so easily.

You disregard getting him dressed and instead, remove your sweatpants and replace them with those very boxers you planned to adorn him with and swap out your t-shirt for the one on your old pillow. Jongseong clumsily climbs into his covers, getting comfortable and finding some happiness in the fact that you’ll be in his arms at least for a little while. 

Once you climb into your side of the bed, he instinctively hugs you from behind, the comfort of your body pressed against his. He spoons you, tucking his face in your neck as he exhales in contentment. This is all he has been craving since that night you left and he couldn’t be happier. All the turmoil and anguish from earlier slowly depletes as he finds himself sinking into a much-needed sleep.

You can’t deny you feel the same, his arms wrapped around you feel like home, like you’ve been on a seven-month business trip and you’re now finally back where you belong. You sink into him further, relishing his skin against yours.

“Happy birthday, Jjongie,” you whisper, bringing his hand up to kiss it before intertwining your fingers with his.

_____

Waking up, Jongseong feels like his whole body has crashed into a brick wall. His bones ache and his head feels tight, but there is a weight that feels so familiar yet foreign, his legs tangled around something and his arms holding it close. This feels different from the t-shirt of yours he clings to every night, this has more substance.

Please don’t be some random girl he thinks to himself, scared to open his eyes. 

Even if he did want to open them he couldn’t because they are being held together so tight by something. Was he crying last night? Actually, what even happened last night?

He replays the fragments of the evening in his mind, a few scattered images begin to surface - Jake and Sunghoon dragging him to Haven, the raucous atmosphere of the bar, and the ill-advised decision to ride the mechanical bull. And then nothing.

As he tries to recounter the night, you see him attempt to pry his eyes open and decide to help him out. Swiping your thumb over his eyes, you wipe away the mix of his dried-in tears and sleep. He looks so confused when you touch him and his body tenses.

Either he is having a severe case of hallucinations to the point where he is starting to physically feel you or the girl that he took home last night resembles your touch. God, how he hoped it was the first one. 

Opening his eyes with your help, he blinks away the blur and sets his eyes on your face, his expression reading one of relief that quickly turns into astonishment.

“Y/N? Baby?” he whispers, his hands instinctively reaching for your cheek, “Please be real.” The same words he pleaded out last night leave his lips again. Jongseong has spent so many nights dreaming of you, wishing in an alternative universe that he can hold you again, so much so that this doesn’t feel real.

You don’t know what to say but obviously, you have to say something. It was one thing to confront drunk Jongseong who didn’t have a wit about him but now it feels like there’s a boulder on your chest as you try to conjure up the courage to speak to a sober, semi-alert Jongseong. 

All you can do is nod, no words escaping your dried lips. You look down to see you and his limbs mangled together just like they used to be, the feeling of his body pressed so tightly against yours almost feels like heaven.

He takes in the sight of you, the lines of disbelief on his features soften, replaced by a glimmer of hope. Slowly, almost tentatively, he reaches out to you, his fingers brushing against your cheek as if to confirm your presence.

The touch sends a jolt of electricity coursing through you, he’s caressing your cheek so tenderly it reminds you of the time you had the shift from hell and Jongseong held you the whole night, whispering sweet words into your ear and stroking your tears away, just like this.

Except there are no tears this time, you’re all cried out - months of mourning the loss of your relationship will do that to you.

As Jongseong's eyes meet yours, a flicker of recognition passes through them, followed by a wave of embarrassment. His voice is soft as he speaks, a hint of uncertainty lacing his words, "What are you doing here?" he asks, his tone laden with confusion.

"You got pretty drunk last night," understatement "And Jake asked me to come pick you up."

You can feel the tension in the air as Jongseong processes your words, his expression a mixture of shame and regret, "Sorry, I don't usually drink that much," he murmurs, his voice tinged with remorse.

The explanation stings, not because Jongseong has been drinking more, but because of the distance it creates between you. It's as if he's explaining himself to a stranger, rather than to the person who once knew him better than anyone else. The past six years you’ve known how he knows his limit and that he doesn’t tend to breach it, not subconsciously. 

All you do is nod, accepting his explanation as you slowly start to detangle yourself from him, “I better get going.”

“Y/N, please let's talk,” he pleads as his voice wavers, his grip tightening around your waist, and his desperation palpable as he pleads for your attention. But you've made up your mind, and no amount of persuasion can sway you from the path you've chosen.

"Jongseong, please, let's not do this," you implore, your voice tinged with a mixture of sorrow and resolve, "We're only going to hurt ourselves again."

You both know the reasons behind your breakup are deeply rooted, immutable truths that cannot be changed. It's not a matter of cheating or petty disagreements—this is about fundamental differences in desires and aspirations for the future.

But Jongseong refuses to accept defeat, his forehead coming to rest against yours as he breathes his love out, "Princess, we can work it out, I know we can," he insists, his words heavy with sincerity.

You steel yourself against the onslaught of his love, knowing that to give in would only prolong the inevitable pain, "We want different things, Jjongie," you remind him gently, your voice tinged with regret.

“I can do without them. It’s you I can’t live without…I can’t breathe without you here by my side.” His words are sincere and you know it, but you can’t accept it. When you both discussed your future, he looked so excited at the prospect of kids that your heart broke instantly. You knew right away that you couldn’t give him what he wanted most.

Closing your eyes and sucking in the bottom of your cheeks, you steady yourself to have this conversation yet again, “You can’t give up the idea of having kids. Having the life you want is much more important than me. You can find someone who can give you that.”

It hurts to say but you need to rip the bandaid off quickly. 

“You think I want that life with anyone but you?” His voice raises lightly, hinting at the anger rising into his chest. He needs you to listen to him, to understand him, “Y/N, if it’s not with you then I don’t want that life.”

Shaking your head determinedly, you sit up, “But I can’t give you that life, it’s not what I want.” You feel like you’re reliving the argument that ended it all those months ago.

“That’s okay.”

“No, It’s not,” It’s your turn to get angry, your eyebrows lacing together as you try to read him. How can he say all of this so easily? Like he wasn’t trying to promise you that he would change his entire life plan just to be with you. Is it romantic? Sure, but it’s also fucking stupid. No one should change just to keep someone they love because if they were meant to be, then their values would align…right?

"It's not that simple, Jongseong," you argue through the silence, your voice tinged with frustration, "You can't just sweep aside your dreams for the sake of our relationship. What about what you want? What about your own happiness?"

Jongseong sits up, the covers hiding his naked lower half; he hadn’t realised he was naked and it only adds a new layer to his vulnerability. He is laying himself bare to you.

But Jongseong's gaze remains unwavering, his determination evident in the set of his jaw, "Since we broke up, I've realised that you are the life I want," he declares, his words carrying the weight of his conviction, "Whatever that looks like for you, I want it."

You feel his words like a pickaxe, slowly breaking away at the wall you’ve spent months building around your heart and reason. A whirlwind of conflicting emotions sweeps over you. On one hand, his declaration of love sparks a glimmer of hope amidst the ruins of your fractured relationship. Yet, on the other hand, doubt claws at your insides, gnawing away at any semblance of certainty, the pure love that you have for him only wishes to make sure he’s happy and gets everything he wants in life.

"Jongseong, I..." you start, your voice wavering as you grapple with the turmoil inside. How do you express the depth of your feelings?

Grabbing your face with his large hands, he kisses you, his soft lips now coating yours. You’ve missed him so much that you become overwhelmed by his actions, a soft tear leaking from your ducts.

So much for being all cried out, you think to yourself.

"It's you, Y/N, I only need you," Jongseong whispers against your lips, his urgency evident as he seeks solace in the warmth of your embrace, stealing kisses with a hunger born from longing.

In spite of yourself, you find your lips responding to his touch, drawn in by the familiar sensation of his mouth against yours. Your arms instinctively wrap around him, fingers grazing lightly over the muscles of his back as you hold him close; your brain is telling you to push him away but your heart is pulling him tighter to you. 

"It's not fair to you, Jjongie," you murmur, the words weighted with a sense of guilt and remorse.

"I'd rather be with you happily than with kids and someone else miserably," Jongseong confesses, his words carrying the weight of his heart's deepest desires.

Jongseong wishes you could see it from his point of view; of course, he has wanted kids and a comfortable life for so long but the idea of achieving that when you are not his wife seems fucking ridiculous. There is no one in this world he wants to be with other than you and if that means he has to be an uncle rather than a dad, so be it.

You are all he has ever wanted. To grow old with you, to experience each of your accomplishments together and have you close to him. He wants to protect you and look after you the way he knows he should and that is his new life goal. This isn’t a decision he has made lightly but a decision he wanted to make.

His hands glide down your sides, trailing over your thighs as his kisses continue, each touch a manifestation of the craving that has consumed him. His need for you is overwhelming, every fibre of his being yearning for you in every possible way. Another moment without you feels unbearable, as if he might die.

You surrender to his touch, sinking back onto the bed as he hovers above you, his grip on your thighs firm yet tender. The intensity of his desire leaves marks, but in this moment, you welcome anything he offers.

It's astonishing how the feel of his lips on yours dismantles your resolve, scattering your apprehensions like leaves in the wind.

Slowly, he removes from you the t-shirt that has absorbed his tears on countless nights and the boxers you borrowed from him, leaving you exposed beneath him. As he looks upon your naked figure, his eyes drink in every curve and contour, offering silent gratitude to the heavens for letting him have you like this. You are everything he wants and more.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Y/N,” he whispers into your mouth as he presses his body hard against yours, his member rubbing itself against your folds. 

The feeling of him rubbing against you is enough to elicit a moan. No amount of toys was enough to satisfy you, not the way Jongseong could. Over the years you learned about one another’s bodies so intimately that no one could ever know you the way he does, not even yourself. 

You couldn’t bear the thought of sleeping with someone else, even if you and Jongseong had broken up, your heart couldn’t do it. You never even considered a one night stand because deep down you knew that your body belonged to Jongseong and no one else.

He moves his hips, slowly rubbing himself against you, the bell of his cock grazing your clit teasingly. It feels like a dream for him to touch you this way again, and the fact that you were coating his cock with your wetness was enough to tell him that you need this too.

Kissing you desperately, his tongue darts into your mouth and swirls with yours as he seeks to taste you, his buds dancing along with yours. He moans into your mouth and acts as an echo of his love for you.

“I missed you so much,” he whispers as his hips continue to move slowly, teasing your hole with his tip each time he draws back. It’s becoming increasingly obvious how much it’s starting to irritate you, your need to have him inside you is evident in your whines of frustration.

"I missed you too, baby. More than anything," you confess, your hand finding his cock as you press against him, seeking to create greater friction between you. With each movement, the pressure builds, sending waves of pleasure coursing through both of you.

With each synchronised movement, the tension between you mounts, the desire for one another lingering in the warm air. His hips continue their slow, teasing rhythm, each brush against your core sending sparks of want up your heat and into your chest.

Feeling the urgency building within you, you guide his cock with precision, pressing it against your eager entrance. A soft gasp escapes your lips as you feel the head of his length dip into you only slightly, the anticipation of being filled with him heightening your senses.

"Please," you whisper, your voice laden with need and longing, a plea for him to take you.

With a teasing grin, Jongseong relents to your plea, but not in the way you expected. Instead of thrusting into you the way you want him to, he trails his fingertips along the curves of your body, igniting a trail of fire in his wake. His touch is light and tantalising, tracing patterns across your skin as he savours every moment. He wants to take his time with you, no matter how much his dick longs to be surrounded by your walls.

You like to be teased even for a little bit, the payoff at the end always hits the right spot.

You squirm beneath his touch, aching for more, but he continues with deliberate slowness. His fingers dance over your heated flesh, exploring every inch of your body with an intimacy that leaves you breathless. Each caress sends shivers down your spine, building the anticipation to unbearable heights. God, you missed his hands all over you.

As his right hand dips lower, he begins tracing circles around your sensitive clit and you can't help but arch your back in pleasure, a soft moan escaping your lips. The sensation is electrifying, sending waves coursing through your body as he expertly teases you.

Feeling your body tremble with anticipation, his touch becomes more urgent as he presses his fingers against your throbbing clit h and with practised skill, he begins to move faster, applying just the right amount of pressure to have you writhing beneath him.

“You look so fucking perfect, all desperate and whiney like this, Princess,” he says as he leans down to kiss you, breathing in deeply through his nose as he tries to fill each of his senses with you. It wasn’t just enough to feel you, he wanted to taste you, to inhale your scent, to hear you cry out for him, to see you unravel beneath him.

Your breath catches in your throat as the intensity of his touch sends you spiralling towards the edge of bliss. Each stroke of his fingers drives you closer to the brink, your body humming with the need to let go.

But just as you feel yourself teetering on the edge, Jongseong suddenly slows his movements, drawing out the pleasure with agonising slowness. It's a torturous tease, the brief moments of intensity followed by long, drawn-out strokes that leave you gasping for more.

“Please, please, please, Jjongie,” you whimper in frustration, your body aching for release as Jongseong continues to play you like a symphony, alternating between fast and slow, building the tension to unbearable levels. Just when you think you can't take it anymore, he finally gives in, his fingers dipping into your heat and thrusting into you at a rough pace, your pussy soaking his digits as he coaxes out your orgasm.

“You’re clamping down on my fingers so hard, Baby, you gonna cum?” he asks arrogantly, knowing that with each curl of his finger, he is watching your body lose control and surrender to him.

Nodding quickly, you pull him down for a long, searing kiss as his thumb joins the party and flicks your clit rapidly, “Oh my god,” you moan out into his mouth through bated breaths, “I’m gonna cum, Jongseong, please can I cum?”

“You never have to ask baby,” he moves his mouth to your ear and lightly nibbles your lobe, “Cum for me, Princess,” he gently commands.

Jongseong continues to work his magic, his fingers moving with expert precision as he guides you through the throes of ecstasy. Your vision blurs and every nerve in your body hums with pleasure as you reach the pinnacle of bliss.

With a final, desperate cry, you let go, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. You arch your back and cry out his name as pleasure consumes you, your body trembling with the intensity of it all.

His fingers remain still inside you, but his thumb maintains its relentless pace, each swipe sending jolts of pleasure coursing through your body. Your hips instinctively twitch in response, your nub throbbing with sensitivity and yearning for a respite. Yet, Jongseong shows no signs of letting up, his determined flicking only intensifying.

"You like that, baby?" Jongseong's voice is hoarse with desire as he intently watches your reactions. His eyes are dark with need as he continues to work you with wild desire. 

Your senses are overwhelmed by sensations pouring through you, so you can only respond with a gasping nod. Every single nerve in your body is buzzing with ecstasy, and all you can think of is the delicious agony of his thumb against your delicate clit.

"Tell me what you want, Princess," he asks, his voice a seductive whisper in your ear, "Do you want more?"

You can only make a frantic plea, your words barely comprehensible in the middle of intense pleasure. "Yes, please, Jongseong... More..."

Jongseong's lips curl into a wicked grin as he hears your plea, his confidence growing with each breathless gasp that escapes your lips. With a teasing twinkle in his eye, he moves his fingers again, pressing them against your contracting walls, his hot breath ghosting over your ear as he speaks.

"What do you want, Y/N?" he whispers, his voice dripping with anticipation, "Tell me, and I'll give it to you."

Your mind is a haze of desire, but amidst the fog, one thought stands out clear and demanding. You need him inside you, filling you completely with his presence. With trembling hands, you reach for him, your fingers curling around his cock, guiding him to where you need him most, pushing his hand out of the way.

"I want you," you whisper, your voice trembling with need. "I want all of you, Jongseong." When you utter the words, there’s a deeper meaning to them, a meaning that Jongseong is clinging to.

The way your fingers wrap around his rock-hard member elicits a hiss from him, your touch mixed with your words only fuels him to give you everything you need. 

Jongseong lets out a guttural groan, entirely surrendering to your touch and words. His eyes darken with want as he watches you take control, and his breath quickens with anticipation as you guide him inside you. His breath coming in ragged gasps, he looks into your eyes with a mixture of desire and adoration, "God, Y/N," he murmurs, his voice rough with need, “You feel so fucking incredible. I’ve missed how you just suck me in like this.”

You look down and watch as his entire length gets lost in your heat, his cock’s head hitting deep within you. You’ve missed how he fills you up so much but you hadn’t realised just how badly until right now as he shallowly thrusts into you.

You respond with a low moan of pleasure, your nails digging into his skin as you pull him closer, urging him to go deeper. "Yes, Jongseong," you whisper, your voice laced with longing, "just like that. I need this so much, I need you."

With each thrust, he grunts in response, his movements becoming more desperate as he seeks to satisfy your every desire, "I'm yours, Y/N," he declares, his voice filled with raw emotion, "completely and utterly yours."

As he lifts your legs and closes them, gently draping them over his left shoulder, your warmth envelops his shaft, drawing him in closer. Jongseong relishes the sensation of your tightness, revelling in the snug embrace of your canal around him. And you too find delight in the pressure of his girth, relishing the way he stretches you further with every powerful thrust.

Each movement of his hips is deliberate, each one designed to bring you both closer to the edge of ecstasy. As his hands stroke your legs tenderly, contrasting with the intensity of his thrusts, you find yourself lost in the intoxicating rhythm of your bodies moving as one.

His jerks grow more intense, the pace quickening as he drives deeper into you, each stroke bringing you closer to the edge, "You feel so good," he groans, his voice filled with unrestrained passion, "so fucking perfect for me, Princess."

In response, you curve your back and meet his thrusts with equal conviction, the heat between you building to an almost euphoric level. "Jongseong," you exclaim, your voice a symphony of fulfilment, "don't stop, please don't stop."

Jongseong intensifies his efforts with a wild growl, each movement driven by a burning need to push you to the edge of satisfaction and beyond. At this moment, there is only you and him, burned by the fires of passion.

With a swift motion, your lover bends you in half, positioning your legs by your head as he quickens his already rapid pace. Lost in a whirlwind of desire, your eyes roll back and your hands instinctively grip his shoulders, your chest heaving with each forceful thrust of his cock. Your nails dig into his skin, leaving marks on his shoulder blades as you cling to him, lost in the intensity of the moment.

Feeling the sting of your nails, he grits his teeth and strains his neck, the veins in his temples pulsating as he fights the overwhelming urge to release inside you right then and there.

“Fuck, claw my back, Baby,” he growls, his voice thick with desire, “make me yours again.” With determination, he continues to pound into you, each movement bringing you closer to your shared orgasm.

After hearing Jongseong’s go-ahead, you dig into his back, dragging your nails across his skin, leaving fiery red lines in their wake, just like he wants. It burns him in the most delectable way, making his cock throb inside of you.

Your breaths combine in the air, creating an ensemble of desire as you both reach the edge. The tension between you grows with each thrust, a crescendo of want reaching its peak.

As he slams into you furiously, his voice fills the room with urgency, "You gonna cum again, Princess? You want it?" His words are a mixture of want and domination, starting a fire inside you that threatens to consume everything in its path.

With a firm nod, you meet his gaze, your eyes brimming with want. "Yes, Jongseong, please," you beg, your voice a frantic appeal for release once again.

In response, he increases his efforts, his motions growing more frenzied as he propels you both to your orgasms. And then, with a final, strong thrust, you shatter, your body convulsing from the ferocity of your release. Jongseong follows closely behind, his own climax mirroring yours as he finds release within you, “Fuck!” 

His body stills as he shoots his seed into you, the tremble of both your bodies vibrates the bed beneath you. Finding it hard to keep himself up, he falls onto you, moving his cock into you further, only drawing out a final moan from your lips.

After a couple of minutes, Jongseong rolls over, his chest heaving up and down rapidly. God, he missed the way you feel under him, he could go another ten rounds if you asked. 

But that would mean you would stay, and is that even something you want? He doesn’t want to ask, your answer being the deciding factor of whether he goes on his life with misery or happiness.

He knows he can’t force you into this relationship but he hopes he has done enough to convince you that you are all he wants.

“Please be with me again, Y/N. I can’t live without you,” he whispers into the air, not daring to look at you.

You on the other hand only want to look at him, to see if you can really try this again, “Even if it means no kids? No playdates with other parents? No family trips to Jeju?”

“Even without all that.” He does look sincere, his eyes now burning into yours with a new lease of determination.

The truth is, you’ve missed him so much that it hurts. Behind the strong facade is just a girl who misses her lover. Being without him is like being in a fire with no escape, constantly fighting your way out of a blaze while your lungs collapse. He’s the clear path to fresh air you desperately need, there is no denying it. And clearly, he thinks the same about you. 

Seeing him last night so fragile and broken engulfed you in the flames, burning you alive because you know that you feel every ounce of hurt that he is. It was a mirror to how you were feeling and you don’t think you knew how badly you needed him until that moment. You were trying to be so strong about it all, giving yourself only a short amount of time to grieve that as you looked at Jongseong last night, you know he has done the same.

You need one another to extinguish the fire.

“Jongseong, truly think about this, this isn’t me saying no to letting you go on a lads holiday, I’m denying you the opportunity to be a father,” you plead with him one last time, giving him an out to all of this as you lay it all on the table.

“Princess, I have had seven months to think about it. I am not compromising or altering my needs for you, this is a decision that I have made on my own. If I truly wanted the life I thought I did, I wouldn’t be begging you to be with me right now. I know this isn’t an easy choice but I have never been more sure about anything in my life.” 

Jongseong kisses all over your face, each one a receipt of his sincerity.

His words strike straight into your heart. He’s serious. A part of you wants to still feel guilty like you’re forcing him into this but on the other hand, he’s right. You’ve given him a multitude of opportunities to leave and find a girl who will cater to him, but he hasn’t. 

He doesn’t need to because all he needs is you and your love, to Jongseong, that is all he needs in his life.

“Okay, but if you ever change your min-”

He interjects with a kiss, one filled with so much happiness and love that it’s almost intoxicating; either that or all the booze in his system has transferred its way into your bloodstream. 

You giggle as he rolls over on top of you again, peppering loud and wet kisses all over your face and neck akin to a dog licking you from utter joy. Your hands try to fight him off playfully, your laugh growing louder as he nuzzles into your neck.

“Oh, wait!” Your lover's sudden pause catches your attention, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he swiftly rolls off the bed and rushes over to the messy pile on the chair by his dresser.

Curious, you crane your neck to see what he's up to, watching as he retrieves something from the floor.

“What is it?” you inquire, intrigued by his enthusiasm.

Turning back to you, Jongseong holds up the familiar torn sheet of paper that you recognise instantly, his smile lighting up his face. He grabs a pen from the desk and returns to your side, handing you both items.

“Tick it off,” he urges, pointing to the bottom of the page where a new addition was made yesterday morning. Despite his internal conflict about the list, he couldn't bring himself to tear it up. If he never saw you again, this would be a precious memory to hold onto.

So he added a new aspiration at the bottom.

Taking the pen from his hand, you read it slowly, “Make Y/N mine again..”

You gaze up at him in awe, understanding the significance of this gesture and how much the list means to him, “You wished for this?” you ask, to which he simply nods at your question, “Then you need to tick it off.” You push the pen and paper back to him but he stops you.

“No, you made the wish come true, so you need to tick it off,” he replies, the corners of his lips upturning slightly.

So with the pen, you draw a line over the words, scoring it off once and for all as you beam proudly, happy that both of your souls are now joined together again. You pull him in for a long, deep kiss, the bucket list discarded as you lose yourselves in the moment once again.

#enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen x reader #enhypen angst #jay smut #park jongseong smut #aj writes #jay x reader #park jongseong x reader

[moonbakeries]

HOW I MANIFESTED MY DREAM LIFE IN A WEEK

BACKSTORY

So I decided to fully immerse myself in "persisting" and fulfilling when I listened to Lonely one by LOVA because I spent around an hour just sobbing because I related to the song.

the week that I started was around Easter break and I was under the most amount of stress I have ever been through and I could see it the effects on my body

I was breaking out with huge pimples even though I was on accutane, I was averaging 2 hours of sleep a day every week for 2 weeks, my period had going on for 2 weeks, I was losing weight rapidly (was under 35kg:( ) my anxiety was at an all time high because I got harassed again(sexual assault victim). I used to have severe depression and have had multiple failed attempts of suicide. AND YES I WAS DESPERATE AS FUCK TO MANIFEST THIS DREAM LIFE OF MINE WHICH IS NO LONGER A DREAM

in the mornings I would be super anxious but I learned how to deal with it and get myself into the state super easily

HOW I DID IT

I GOT OFF TUMBLR: you know how many times I doubted myself only to realise I was doing everything right

I also read and listened to Edward Art MULTIPLE TIMES

Within a week of fulfilling and persisting, I had manifested my dream life. just like that. I woke up one morning and everything I had ever desired was right there. and it was super easy.

all I did was affirm(to remind not to get), visualise and feel. I would only do these methods if I wanted to, if I didn't I wouldn't.

Within a few days, the anxiety lessened so much and it started to feel natural. 

this was a question on Bambi's " how I manifested with hard circumstances " post which has now been sadly deleted but I remember copying this because it gave me hope at the time I copied it (don't hope, just know)

"But isn’t ranting “not letting the old story die out?” you and i could rant until our minds are cleared, just as long as you flip my thoughts, you are on the right track.  I rant for 2% of my 24 hour days. The other 98% i was persisting in the fact that creation was done. as “time” went on, it began to feel more natural and I felt more at ease. I held onto that feeling because I knew this was when I would get my desires and I did."

and that was when I knew I shouldn't give up and I just kept going even when I wanted myself to just get on tumblr and overconsume 

I actually nearly decided to see what I was "doing wrong". I clicked on one of Aphrodite's posts but I didn't read it. I just asked myself if I would look through it if I had my desires and I wouldn't and since I already have all of my desires I didn't.

Whenever the anxiety was too strong and I could feel the frustration and desperation building up, I would just rant and it helped me calm down and get back into the state super easily.

why?

because STATES MANIFEST THOUGHTS DON'T

which is why you can rant.

you know how many FUCKING DOUBTS I had, but I didn't even give them attention coz they didn't deserve any and how many times I wanted to just give up, but I was like NO, STFU, I DON'T WANNA LIVE MISERABLY ANYMORE and now I'm not :)

The affirmations I used:

It is done

I am living my dream life

I am in my desired reality

The 3d will conform as long as i keep persisting

Imagination is the real reality

I also daydreamed, but since imagination is the real reality they were real

WHAT I MANIFESTED

- desired appearance

- name change

- family change

- skills (drivers licence etc)

- apartment and furniture

- wealth

- a bunch of random materialistic things

- desired friend group (I absolutely love them!)

- desired uni and always getting good grades

- outfits from pinterest

and a bunch of other things

- I also ended up manifesting an sp without even knowing and he's pretty much I everything I scripted him to be(scripted a year ago because I didn't really care for a relationship) but this happened before I manifested my dream life

after a year and half of being on loablr I finally manifested my dream life. and you can too

(there was probably over 100 things I wanted but I realised what I want is not much, nothing ever is when you know about loa and yes, i was super desperate)

you don't need anymore information other than @angelsinluv states post and fulfillment challenge

you shouldn't ever be stressed or worried while manifesting whatever you want, because you wouldn't stress if you had it

TAKE YOUR TIME

YOU GOT THIS

#success story #affirmations #loassumption #law of assumption #dream life #manifesting #manifestation #loa

[lovebugism]

eddie x shy!reader , she asks him on a date by giving him tickets to a concert and he thinks its a joke til she walks away feeling rejected & he realizes she’s like dead serious & goes up to her

thanks for your request! i sorta broke my own heart with this one — the one where eddie rejects you and immediately regrets it (shy!reader, hurt/comfort, 2.6k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

Robin tells you that he’s nice. She says he won’t turn you down because he loves Mötley Crüe too much and he’s called you pretty too many times. Robin Buckley is many things — a dork, a polyglot, and your best friend, to name a few — but she’s never been a liar.

She wouldn’t lead you to the slaughter that way. She wouldn’t just let you get your heart broken. More than anything, though, she knows Eddie far better than you do — partly because she’s actually able to talk to him.

So despite your lingering worry, you swallow her words like a shot of vodka and maneuver helplessly through the bustling crowd of the Hawkins High lunchroom.

Eddie Munson sits alone at the Hellfire Club table — the smallest one in the very back corner by the large square window. 

Instead of eating a real meal (even though the hamburgers might be horse meat instead of cow), the boy eats crumbled-up pretzels from a worn ziplock bag. He pinches them into his mouth blindly because his chocolate syrup gaze is trained on the well-loved book folded in his left hand. 

J.R.R Tolkien’s, The Hobbit.

It makes you smile softly to yourself. You hope one day you’ll have the courage to tell him you’ve read that book so many times you could recite it in your sleep. You hope that day comes soon.

“Eddie?” you call softly to him when you reach his table. Your sweaty fingers fidget with the concert tickets you clutch between them.

He just thinks he hears his name at first. It’s barely audible over the sounds of muddled chatter in the cafeteria. He glances up from his book, not expecting anyone to be there, and gaping when he finds you standing in front of him. 

His cinnamon eyes go wide. The boy blinks owlishly at you once, then flits his eyes behind you like he’s expecting to see someone there. When he doesn’t, he blinks at you again. 

“Hi…” you waver with a trembling smile.

Eddie grins back, still obviously confused. “…Hi?”

“I, uh… I don’t know if you heard, but— well, obviously you heard, that’s… that’s stupid,” you laugh at yourself, shaking your head with your eyes squeezed shut. You’re already stumbling all over yourself, and you haven’t even managed a full sentence yet.

“Mötley Crüe is coming to Indianapolis in a few days, and a friend of mine was selling tickets, so I bought them. For us. Potentially. You know, if you wanted to… to go… With me.”

Your offer lingers and hangs in the air between the two of you.

A smile quirks at the right side of Eddie’s pink mouth. It isn’t a kind one, though. It looks more cynical than anything else.

His head juts back. He’s almost peering at you from the corner of his eye as though you were some suspicious thing he needed to analyze. A laugh sputters from his lips. “Did Buckley put you up to this? Is that what this is?”

Your faltering smile fades entirely. Your features crumble in disappointment.

This worse he could say is no, Robin had told you. 

You hadn’t prepared yourself for this.

“…What?” you wonder, voice fragile like a wilting flower petal.

Eddie chuckles to himself. He sets the book down to give you his full attention, though you’re not sure you want it anymore. “You know, I knew she was upset about me trying to set her up with Vickie and all, but this is a… whole new low.”

“Vickie…?” you murmur through a tightening throat, brows pinched in confusion. “I don’t understand—”

“Look, sweetheart… Tell Robin that this was a real funny joke, but I’m not interested, alright?”

Your chest aches with an empty feeling. You think your heart might be breaking. “J—Joke?”

“—Actually, tell her that this was very not metal of her, and that I will get my vengeance,” Eddie says with a sardonic laugh deeply rooted in his chest. His smile looks almost like he pities you as he shakes his head, eyes twinkling with pessimism. “I’m sorry she sent you to do her dirty work, but… You should probably go now. This is, you know, the Hellfire Club table and everything, so…”

You swallow thickly, then nod.

Eddie doesn’t want you here. Eddie doesn’t want you at all.

“I’m— I’m sorry if I…” The words get caught in your throat. You clear it and blink back burning tears. “I was just… I thought that maybe—”

“Eddie!” a boyish voice calls from across the cafeteria, only halfway drowned out through all the noise. A group of guys in Hellfire shirts walk towards the table.

You take that as your cue to leave. You don’t want to burst into tears in front of your crush and all of his friends.

“I’m sorry,” is all you manage to choke out before turning on your heel and walking away.

He’d been smiling up until that point — like it was all a big joke to him — because it was. 

The girl he’s been fawning over since junior year comes out of nowhere with tickets to see one of his favorite bands? That was the kind of shit he dreamt about — the kind of plan only someone as vicious as Robin Buckley could concoct to hurt his feelings. And after spending so many years being the brunt of bullies, Eddie was tired of being embarrassed.

And at first, he thought you were just a really good actor. You did look almost genuinely confused when he’d snuffed out the plan so quickly. But those wide, glassy eyes you looked at him with — he doesn’t know if a person can fake that sort of heartbreak. That looked real.

Eddie had been close to commending himself for not letting Robin win. He thought he was a genius for not allowing Buckley to use you against him. Now he knows he’s the same dumbass he's always been.

“Hey, man…” Gareth wavers as he sits at his designated seat adjacent to Eddie’s. The boy’s forlorn and faraway gaze doesn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the club. They all share looks of confusion, but the sandy-haired boy is the only one brave enough to speak up. “You okay?”

Eddie keeps his gaze trained on your figure as you maneuver through the crowd. Robin looks happy for you when you reach her, but the puppy-like excitement washes away when she notices how sad you are. 

He feels like someone’s shoved a knife between his ribcage. He wonders if this is what a broken heart feels like.

“I think I screwed up,” he answers, laughing cynically at himself. “Like, big time.”

“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time, right?” Dustin jokes before popping a fry into his mouth. He laughs, but no one else joins him. “…Right?”

Eddie glares at the boy.

He cowers. “…Kidding. I was kidding.”

—————

He stews over it all day — your offer and what he said to you and how sad you looked after he said it. 

He pictures your pinched brows and big, glassy eyes and his chest starts to burn a little. Everyone always thought he was some raging asshole just because he had crazy hair and a crazier taste in music. Now he feels like they were sort of right about him. 

Whatever chance he had with you has surely turned to dust by now. It wouldn’t surprise him after he shrugged you off like he did. But after waging a nearly four-hour war in his mind between lunch and dismissal, he knows he has to make sure. 

He has to know if he’s ruined things entirely or if there’s a glimmer of hope he can hang onto.

He comes to you at the end of the day, dripping in metaphorical blood from the mental carnage he’d endured. He stood across the hall from you for five whole minutes as he tried to come up with something to say. He walks to your locker empty-handed and just blurts, “I thought you were joking,” like a total idiot.

Through the muddled conversation in the bustling hallway, you hadn’t heard him coming. You didn’t know he was there at all until he was right next to you. Seeing someone so suddenly close to you makes you flinch — hard.

And it’s not totally Eddie’s fault. You’re jumpy and too easily frightened at times, but he can’t help but feel like he’s messing things up more than he already has.

“Oh…” you deflate with a sigh, eyes still wide and swimming with something he can’t quite place. You look like you’re almost relieved to see him. Almost. 

“Sorry— shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to…” The boy stumbles over his words, then trails off when they don’t come out the way he wants. He shakes his head and finds it in himself to smile. It’s bitter, though, filled with self-abhorrence. “I wasn’t trying to scare you.”

With one hand still clutching the door of your locker, and the other gripping a stack of textbooks, you peer at him through your lashes. “I know. It’s okay. I just— I wasn’t expecting it…”

He grimaces. “Sorry…”

“’S okay,” you repeat.

“I, um, I only came in so hot ‘cause I wanted to apologize— you know, for earlier. In the lunch room,” he stammers and puts his fidgeting hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. He tries to laugh, but it comes out more as an insincere puff of air. “Honestly, I thought you were joking.”

Your brows pinch. “Joking? Why would I—”

“I sorta locked Robin and Vickie in the old chemistry room in the east wing a few days ago,” he confesses, bouncing his shoulders. “Just because I know they both like each other and everything, and I thought maybe they’d finally admit it if they were alone together.”

“Okay…?” 

“Well, they didn’t. And Robin was pissed. So I thought she was using you to get back at me.”

“Using me?” you echo.

“Yeah. ‘Cause I’ve kinda been into you since junior year and everything,” he admits with a nonchalant shrug. The corner of his rosy mouth quirks into a half-smile. “It’s, like, the one card Robin could use against me that would actually hurt, you know? If she did try to get me back.”

Your heart swells so much it hurts, almost — the same kind of hurt you'd felt in the lunch room earlier. It feels fiery, like someone’s taken a match to your ribcage and lit your heart aglow. But it’s different now. This is a good hurt, a happy hurt.

“Really?” you squint at him, your voice high and light. Your lips twitch like you want to smile, but you don’t let yourself — lest this all turns out to be some kind of elaborate dream. Or a joke.

“Since we had Mr. Kaminsky’s together, yeah,” Eddie affirms with a slow, confident nod. His chocolate eyes flit up to the water-stained ceiling. “Let’s see… We were learning about reproduction, and Tommy Hagan made some stupid joke about using you as a real-life model instead of the pictures in the textbook—”

“I remember,” you nod, trying not to shudder at the memory that still haunts you. 

“And I told him that he was making it real obvious that he’s never seen an actual vagina before and that the one in the textbook looked a lot like his mom’s,” the boy recalls with a soft laugh. “And you looked over at me, and you smiled, and I… have been a goner ever since.”

He looks down at you again, all sheepish like he isn’t gluing your broken heart back together again. His chocolate eyes twinkle in a way you’ve never seen before. They sparkle in their softness. You have to look away before it turns you into a puddle at his feet. 

You smile widely into your locker, pursing it off to the side in attempts to conceal its brightness. 

“No one’s ever stuck up for me like that before,” you confess quietly after a few moments, peeking at him from the corner of your eye. “I’m pretty sure I gushed to Robin about it for days.”

“Yeah?” Eddie hums. He can feel his hopes getting too high.

“Yeah. I told her all about the pretty boy in the back of the room that finally got Tommy H. to leave me alone.”

“Oh… You think he’s pretty, huh?” the boy teases despite his pink cheeks.

You nod — made much braver by his previous admission — though you still have a little trouble looking him in the eye. You drag a notebook from your locker as you tell him, “I think he’s very pretty.”

“Well, I have it on good authority that the boy you think is pretty is super sorry for being such an asshole to you earlier,” Eddie murmurs, his nose scrunched and head tilted. “And that he’d really love to go to that concert with you— if you haven’t found some other schmuck to go with you, that is.”

Your eyes light up like a Christmas tree as you beam at him. No one’s ever looked at him that way before now.

“I’d like that,” you nod, then shrug. “I don’t think I’d wanna go with anyone else, anyway…”

“So, it’s a date?” Eddie asks, just to make sure. His raised brows disappear behind his fluffy bangs. His chin tilts to his chest as he smiles hopefully down at you.

You nod, and repeat it more softly than the loudmouth boy. “It’s a date.”

Eddie can feel himself grinning like an idiot. His cheeks ache with how wide he’s beaming at you, but he's too lovesick to stop. Like squinting into the sun, smiling every time he looks at you is muscle memory by now. 

And what did a freak like him ever do to deserve a date with the freakin’ sun?

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #bug's summer fic fest!

[enkas-illusion]

What’s a Jumpscare?

Fandom / Pairing: Jujutsu Kaisen / Geto Suguru x f!reader

Rating: NSFW/Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Genre/Theme: Roommates to lovers type beat; non-sorcery au

Content warning: fluff, pure smut, oral (f and m.receiving), explicit sexual content, squirting, overstimulation, language, angst, Suguru is crass with his words, kinda jealous and possessive Suguru.

Summary: What’s the rational thing to do in the middle of the night when you’re scared shitless after watching a horror movie? It’s to call your flatmate Suguru to your room to sleep next to you. Being the nice roommate that he is, he’s more than happy to provide you with a solid distraction.

Author's Note: Porn with a plot but you really have to squint your eyes to find the plot honestly. I have no justification for this hehe. Thank you for reading, hope you enjoy it! 

~ Eren’s Birdie

Song Dedication: Freak by Lana Del Rey

“What am I? A child? Fear doesn't exist in this household!”

.

.

.

That’s the embarrassing thing about overestimating yourself. One moment you’re boasting about your ability to endure jumpscares without flinching and the next, you’re sealing the ends of your blanket with your feet, hoping it’d protect you from imaginary ghosts.

As you bite your nails, waiting for your flatmate to answer the call, you feel embarrassed at how much of a wuss you’re gonna seem in front of him after talking big about not being one of the scaredy cats.

“Hello?” you hear his confused voice on the other end, laced with a hint of concern at you calling him in the middle of the night.

“Hi, Sugu,” you speak timidly, knowing you’re going to have to butter him up to get him to comply with your request. But before you can continue, you hear a mocking chuckle on the other end.

“Awww… look who’s scared shitless after bragging about being a horror movie connoisseur,” he teases.

“Pleaseee, come to my room,” you plead and you’re surprised when he agrees quickly before hanging up. But the emotion is soon replaced with dread when you realise that this is one of his rare golden opportunities to tease the hell out of you and Geto Suguru isn’t one to let it slide.

When he arrives, he doesn’t knock but slides your room door slowly so that the hinges creak eerily as it opens. His form almost blending into the dark hallway behind him, highlighted by your room’s awfully bright light.

“Suguru please, this is exactly why I did not want to call you here,” you complain as he smiles slyly, walking in before closing the door behind him.

“Then what did you call me here for?”

“Sleep here tonight,” you request, patting the space next to you on your bed.

“At least have the decency to ask me out on a date first.”

“That’s not– you know that’s not how I mean it!” you sigh.

“Be for real, this is all just a ruse to get me in your bed,” he snorts, leaning against the door with his hands crossed at his chest.

You roll your eyes and want to talk back at him but you remember that your scared ass doesn’t really have the upper hand here. You sigh again, “I’ll hold your pinky finger max…  just so that I know I’m not alone in the room.” 

“Holding hands? That’s like third base for you, babe,” he walks closer till he’s standing at the edge of the bed.

You pout at him and he bends forward in front of you, resting his palms on the edge of the mattress. “Did your dear friend not reply?” he teases you about your fuck buddy Marco but you decide not to react.

“Tease me all you want but please just get in!” you groan.

“Just sleep with the lights on,” he says dryly. 

“I can’t fall asleep with the lights on but I’m too anxious to turn them off,” you reason, leaning forward to touch his bicep gently, hoping he’d be kind and understanding of your predicament.

“Just cover your head with the blanket?” He climbs into bed, sitting on the edge.

“Too suffocating. If you’ll be here, I’ll feel safe and sound,” you pout, trying hard not to smile at how he’s already complying to your request. 

“I sleep naked.”

You suck in a breath to weigh your options. You know he’s just teasing but oh well, a distraction wouldn’t hurt, “I’ll allow shirtless.”

He takes his t-shirt off in an instant, throwing it to the floor before settling in next to you.

“Never miss a chance to make me uncomfortable…” you mumble as you try your best not to ogle at his abs. 

“We both know you enjoy this, princess,” he smiles insincerely and you roll your eyes at him before turning to the side to reach the light switch near the bedside. Just as you turn the lights off, you feel a hand grab one of your ankles tightly and yank it roughly, causing you to let out a shriek as your body stumbles onto the mattress.

You hear Suguru laugh next to you as you turn to see his faint silhouette illuminated by the soft moonlight peeping through the window.

“Who does that!?” you scold him as you slap his chest repeatedly. 

“Me!” he grabs your wrists to stop your attacks and instead wraps his arms around you. He falls back onto the mattress, caging you snugly into his arms so that your torso is almost on top of his.

“Suguru, I doubt this is a comfortable position to sleep in,” you wriggle into his arms as you free yourself to fall to the side, creating distance between your bodies as promised, holding only his index finger to maintain contact. A few minutes pass by in silence before you hear a sudden draft escaping the gaps of the window, making an eerie sound, causing you to hiss out a quiet ‘fuck’ as your hand readjusts to intertwine your fingers with his.

“If all you wanted to do was make noises instead of sleep, I could’ve done a much better job than a horror film,” he speaks softly as he untangles his fingers from yours.

You turn your head to look at his face, eyes searching his in the darkness, “Suguru, please stop teas–”

“Shhh, I’m just trying to get comfortable,” he interrupts and you feel his body turn to the side and towards you. His hand snakes around your waist as he pulls you into his warmth till your back is against his chest. This makes you giggle as you place your hand over his on your waist, fingers interlacing once again.

“Is this safe enough, madam?” His voice is playful but the way his hot breath fans the crook of your neck is far from funny. It’s as if the fear that had preoccupied your mind had suddenly started to lift, leaving behind a sudden sense of awareness. You suddenly feel hyper aware of the position you’re currently in with your attractive, not to mention shirtless, roommate. 

You simply hum instead of speaking, not wanting your voice to betray you and expose the way you’re secretly enjoying the way his body feels against yours. For a second, you wonder how this type of stuff only happens in cheesy fictional movies or steamy romance novels. But on second thought, it might as well just be a well orchestrated happenstance – two adults willing to compromise on a rational way of solving things; and instead acting on their unbridled desire for each other, testing how far they can bend till one of them breaks.

That can never be you. You’ve taken an L as it is for one night, so if someone was going to break, it had to be him. You readjust your body to ‘get comfortable’, moving your hips slightly back till your ass is resting snugly against his crotch. However, when you don't get a reaction out of him, you abandon the idea just as quickly, creating some distance once again.

“Good night, Suguru,” you speak softly as you close your eyes, absentmindedly rubbing soft circles on the back of his hand while trying to understand how his brain works–you could’ve sworn the tension between you and him was real, so why was he acting so aloof?

You don't have to wonder much when you feel him move closer till you feel his bulge poke at your ass, causing you to halt your movement. Instead, Suguru's hand frees from under yours and dips under your t-shirt, fingers caressing dangerously close to your breasts. When you press your hips further back against him, he lets out a dry chuckle.

“Thought you were only going to hold a finger,” he mocks as his nose nudges behind your ear.

“This is a far better distraction,” you hum as you lift your hand up, moving it behind till your fingers are burrowed in his free raven locks. 

“Is that what I am to you? Just a distraction?” his hand cups your boobs, fondling with the soft flesh, earning a satisfactory hum from you.

“No, you’re my dear roomie too,” you tease as you twist your head to look back at him, but your effort is in vain due to the darkness.

“Ahh, right! Just a roomie… that you keep on trying to seduce?”

“Whatever do you mean?” you pout as your hand moves to caress his cheek. He pinches your hardened nipple and it causes you to let out a quiet gasp.

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about… roaming around the house without a bra… your nipples poking through the awfully thin fabric of your t-shirts,” his words make the heat rush to your cheeks as you feel his lips graze your neck and you close your eyes at the feeling.

“You roam around shirtless too.”

“That’s different.”

“Sure… seems to me that you’re the pervert here. C-can’t I be comfortable at my own place?” you tease but your voice comes out breathless as your brain is stuck on the way Suguru is playing with your nipples.

“Hmm… I'm trying to do just that… get you more comfortable,” Suguru bites your shoulder lightly as his hand moves down to dip into your sweatpants.

“Such a considerate roomie–mmh,” you swallow your words when he rubs your mound from over your underwear, “... what would I do without you, Sugu.”

You grab his hair to pull his face away from your shoulder before twisting your body further to kiss him on the lips. Your lips miss the mark and land on the corner of his mouth. He lets out a snort at this and brings his hand up to squeeze your cheeks before kissing you right.

His tongue slides into your mouth, swirling against your own and alternating it with soft tugs at your bottom lip. Suguru’s such a good kisser that you feel lightheaded when he breaks the kiss to allow you both catch your breaths. You can make out his outline as he moves away from you, making his way to your corner of the bed to turn the light on.

“Too bright!” you cover an arm over your eyes, scrunching your face at the sudden change.

“I want to see you,” he states calmly as he straddles you, fingers sliding the fabric of your t-shirt up to expose your belly.

“The lamp has enough light,” you stop his movement and motion him to move towards the bedside table. 

He rolls his eyes but obeys as he makes his way to switch the bright tube light with the soft orange light of the lamp, “You could’ve easily fallen asleep in this dim light… you just wanted a reason to get me in your bed, huh?”

“Well, I really was scared,” you pout, making him laugh as he turns back to look at you.

“Yeah rig–” his words get caught in his throat when his eyes land on your bare chest.

“Would you rather go back to your room?” you tilt your head slightly as you toss your t-shirt to the ground before tracing your fingers gently over your rock-hard nipples. If Suguru had any other thoughts in his mind before that moment, the slate is wiped completely clean when he sees the way your dainty fingers dance over your skin, luring him in like a siren to a sailor. 

“That ship sailed the moment you asked me to get in your bed,” he leans over you till you’re lying flat on your back and wets his lips as his eyes shamelessly fixate on your exposed tits. Without wasting another second, he dips his head down to suck on one tit while his fingers play with the other.

Your hands find their way to his hair as you let out soft hums, closing your eyes to enjoy the way his tongue feels on your sensitive skin. 

He moves further down, leaving wet smooches over your belly but his movements come to a halt when his eyes land on your belly button.

“Is this new?” He asks, causing you to open your eyes and you find him eyeing the tiny ring piercing that's barely visible unless seen up close.

You shake your head, “You just never got to see it.”

“I knew you were a freak,” he leans down to kiss over it, “those innocent, doe eyes might trick others but they never fooled me.”

“But isn't that why you’re so hard, baby? Cause you like them freaky?” You shoot back as you hook one leg around his waist to tug the waistband of his sweats down with your toes. He grabs your ankle, peeling it away from him and pinning it down to the bed.

He simply gives you a devilish smile before leaning down to graze the silver metal piercing with his teeth, pulling at it playfully. In that moment, your body's reaction is beyond your control as you let out a whimper, goosebumps covering the entire expanse of your skin.

You bring your hands up to your chest to play with your nipples, back arching when his wet tongue licks a strip down your belly. He hooks his fingers into your waistband before pulling them down your legs along with your underwear.

“Fucking hell Suguru,” you moan when you feel two fingers opening your puffy folds, dragging over the surface to spread your wet juices around.

“Yes, princess?” He looks up to meet your eyes and he can feel the blood rushing to his dick, making it harder than ever. He thinks he might as well cum by just looking at your already fucked out expressions while your fingers greedily play with your tits.

“I want your tongue… please eat me out,” your request is almost a breathy whisper. 

“Hmm, what do I get in return?” He wonders, fingers rubbing soft circles over your clit.

“I'll suck you off–”

“No.”

“Please… fuck– what then?” Your voice grows impatient as rut your hips up to feel more of his fingers.

“I want you to stop calling that fucker over whenever you're horny,” his voice is so stern that it actually makes you focus on what he's saying. 

Your eyebrows furrow at this as you stop playing with yourself to sit up on your elbows to get a better look at his face, “Who? Marco? I don't underst–”

“What's so hard to understand, dummy? I'm fucking sick of hearing you scream someone else’s name at nights when I know I could fuck you much better than that guy,” Suguru's tone is calm, yet he has to grit his teeth to keep his cool.

He didn't have to ask – in your mind it was already a given – what could possibly be better than having your unbelievably attractive flatmate make you his. No other men could ever compare moving forward. 

Yet you want to push his buttons, like you always do, “hmm… I don’t know about that, Sugu. He’s really good with his tongue...”

“Is that the game you really wanna play?” He groans as he spreads your thighs open, nestling himself between your legs. He dips his head down till it is just inches away from your core, “Well, then… be my fucking guest.”

You bite your lip to keep yourself from grinning too hard – it was so fucking easy to rile him up. His tongue is quick to latch onto your pussy, causing you to let out a soft moan at the sudden contact.

Your body melts back down onto the mattress as you bring your hands down to play with his hair. He licks a strip up to your clit before moving back down to dip his tongue into your hole. As he begins to alter the pressure of his tongue, your thighs twitch involuntarily.

“Oh god– Suguru, right ther– nghh,” you push his head further down to bury his face against you completely. Suguru smiles at you as he lifts his head up slightly before letting the spit on his tongue trickle down to your hole and you can feel your insides clutching around nothing. 

You lean your head back and shut your eyes tight when you feel his fingers spread his spit around your entrance. He takes you by surprise when he suddenly shoves two of his thick fingers into your cunt. The moan that escapes your lips next is vile to say the least and you bring your hand up to muffle it.

“No… don’t act shy now, baby. Let me hear your pretty voice,” he growls and you feel his other hand come up to yank yours away from your mouth as he begins fucking you with his fingers.

You nod your head desperately with your eyes still closed and whimper at his words, but it doesn’t take long before you’re cussing out lewd profanities when his tongue plays with your clit at the same time he begins to pump his fingers inside you faster. 

“Suguru, y-you’re so good,” you stutter out praises as you feel your mind numbing at the sensation, getting closer to your orgasm. Your back arches off the bed when you feel him suck on your bud, adding a third finger into your hole.

“Oh my— yesyesyes,” you cry as your body twitches under him. You’re so close, you can almost feel yourself breaking. You bring your shaky hand to his hair again as you look down to find his eyes fixed on your face. Your eyebrows knit, the intensity of his gaze making you feel vulnerable and exposed.

“Sugu– I’m so clo–” you halt mid-sentence when he pulls away completely, causing your build-up to drop suddenly. You whine as you hook your legs around his torso, “Suguru! What the fuck?”

“Aww, sorry baby. Were you about to cum?” His tone is condescending. He holds up his hand to examine the wet coat of your juices glistening on his fingers, “Maybe you can call Marco over to finish the job?”

“Suguru, stop being so cruel,” you huff as you tug at his hand to pull him closer. 

“You’re the cruel one here… expecting me to share what’s mine,” he moves up to kiss you on the lips and your moans are muffled by his tongue when his fingers part your folds once again, making your hips twitch.

“Please, I was only teasing. You’re the only one I want,” you beg, out of breath when he releases your lips.

“Is that so?” his hot breath fans your face. You nod desperately, clawing at his forearm to get him to move his hand once again.

“So, no more Marco? You’ll break all contact with that fucker?” he asks but it’s a rhetorical question anyway. 

“Only you, Suguru,” you agree nonetheless as you lean your head up to kiss him once again.

“That’s a good girl. See how easy it was?” he smirks as his head moves down to your neck to suck on your skin roughly. Your brain goes dumb when he finds your sweet spot, you bring your hands to his shoulders all the while chanting his name when his fingers start fucking into you again.

You squirm under him as his bodyweight restricts your movement. When he feels your pussy flutter around his fingers, he’s quick to make his way back down to stimulate your clit with his tongue. You root your feet into the mattress, your hips thrusting up as your muscles twitch again.

“Keep going, fuck–Suguru” you cry as you grip his hair with one hand while your other hand pinches one of your nipples. The pressure in your core releases as soon as it builds when your orgasm breaks through you. Your legs fall limply to the sides but your abdomen still twitches as Suguru continues to lap at your juices.

You feel way too sensitive as his ruthless tongue and fingers begin to overstimulate you. You yank at his hair to warn him but he doesn’t budge.

“Suguru, too much–ahh!” your body twitches violently and he presses his other hand over your lower belly to keep you from moving too much. As you shiver under his touch, you can feel the coil building up in your stomach – it happens before you even realise it and you squirt all over his face.

You cry his name out loud, tears escaping your eyes as your body falls limp and you feel as if you’ve lost all strength. Suguru pulls his fingers out as he sits up between your legs, sucking his fingers clean before pushing the loose strands of his hair back.

Your chest heaves and you see the way his face shines due to the wetness. You bring a foot up to his chest, pushing him till he’s leaning back slightly, “You’re the freak here, Suguru.”

“Never said I wasn’t,” he smiles as he rests his palms onto the mattress, leaning back and spreading his legs open. You sit up and lean forward as you hook your hands into the waistband of his pants to pull them down along with his boxers. He lifts his hips up slightly and his dick springs free when you pull the garments down, discarding them to the side.

You lean down closer to his dick, your pussy fluttering when you see how perfect his size is – length as well as girth wise. Suguru has the prettiest dick you’ve ever seen and it looks even prettier with the precum leaking from the slit. You move your thumb over the angry tip, sliding the foreskin further down.

You smile at him innocently before focusing back down as your tongue licks over the head, wetting it further with your saliva. Suguru feels like he’s about to lose his shit at this, his dick throbbing painfully in your hands.

A guttural groan escapes his lips when he feels you take his length into your mouth till his tip is hitting the back of your throat. Your left hand moves under to fondle his balls while your right hand gently claws at his thigh. He runs a hand through your hair when you start bobbing your head over his cock.

“Shit– take it in, princess,” his voice strains as he grabs your hair to push your head further down. You let out a muffled groan when you gag slightly.

You pick up your pace and he doesn't know if it's because he's been hard for an awfully long time or if you’re clouding his senses, taking over every thought but he comes undone quickly.

When you rub the base tightly while letting his tip hit the back of your throat in a repeated motion, you feel his dick twitch.

“Fuc– baby, I'm cumming,” he moans as he tries to warn you, tugging at your hair gently but you maintain a steady rhythm, making him shoot his hot liquid in your mouth.

You slow down to pull away from his dick and look up to find Suguru leaning back, resting his weight on his elbows. His eyebrows furrow when he sees the way a string of saliva connects his dick to your glistening lips. He closes his eyes shut as his head falls back limply – he thinks it's impossible to get hard so quickly again after a good head but his body is hell-bent on proving him wrong.

You wipe your lips with the back of your hand as you sit up and giggle at his state. He opens one eye to look at you lazily, chest still heaving lightly.

“You're welcome, Suguru. That is what a real considerate roomie does,” you tease as you straddle his lap, leaning forward to leave soft kisses over his pecs. Your arms rest on his shoulders as you move up to his neck, biting and sucking on his skin.

“Mmh… you’re so fucking cute,” Suguru huffs as he brings his hand up to your face, guiding you to look up at him, “fuck...the things I want to do to you.”

“What do you want to do to me?” You question as you take his thumb in your mouth, sucking on it lightly before releasing it.

“This,” he says as he wraps his arm around your waist to scoot you up till your chest is flush against his, pulling you in for a kiss. The kiss is hungry, passionate and desperate and your arms wrap around his neck and you moan into his mouth when you feel two of Suguru's fingers glide over your folds to part them.

“... and this,” he mumbles between kisses and you feel him graze his tip near your entrance. He pauses briefly as he pulls back from the kiss, “Where do you keep the condoms?” 

You shake your head no, “birth control,” you mumble before pulling him back in to continue your kiss. You're pretty sure you feel his lips curve up in a smile briefly before he shoves his tongue into your mouth.

His hand is quick to reposition his dick, lining it up at your entrance as his other hand wraps around your waist to lift your hips up slightly. 

Your pussy flutters in excitement when his tip enters your hole. He breaks the kiss to look down where your bodies meet, placing both his hands firmly on your hips, fingers digging into your flesh as he guides your body down onto him slowly.

You whimper as you feel his fat cock impale your walls, resting your forehead against his shoulder while your hands caress his biceps. When he's filled you up to the hilt, he holds you steady, letting you adjust to his size.

“Sugu–”

“And this,” he whispers as he lifts your hips up with ease before slamming you down onto his cock in one swift motion. Your nails dig into his skin at this and you scream his name, your brain going numb when his pace fastens.

“Yes yes, right th– ahh,” your voice is slurry as you bite into the skin of his shoulder to keep yourself from losing your sanity completely– as if that were still an option. 

“S-stop squeezing me so tight,” he sighs when your walls twitch around him. You bury your face into his neck, whimpering at the sensation as his tip kisses the right spot each time he shoves deep into you.

Suguru loosens his grip around your waist as he slows down and it's only then that you realise just how tight his hold was. But the thought slips your mind just as quickly as it arrives when he lies you down till your back is on the mattress with him on top of you.

With his dick still buried deep inside you, he readjusts your legs to hook them over his shoulders and folding you in half as he towers over you.

His lips meet yours as he pins your arms down to your sides, intertwining his fingers with yours. It's a simple act but it has you feeling butterflies in your stomach.

“I want you…” he bites your lower lip lightly before releasing it, “...so bad...”

You hum into the kiss at his sweet nothings, not really being able to focus on the words he's spilling between kisses. You feel lightheaded – the way he kisses you softly is soon contrasted by the rough thrusts of his hips as he begins to pound into you mercilessly.

You cry against his lips as tears escape your eyes at how deliciously he's filling you up. Suguru kisses your cheek hastily before moving down to your neck to decorate your skin with his markings.

“Oh–mmph– god, Suguru,” you sob as he picks up his pace. You feel your mind going blank with each thrust – in that moment, you have nothing in your thoughts expect for Suguru and his cock.

Your moans get a pitch higher when he brings a hand down to play with your clit. It's the tipping point for you when his fingers and dick work in unison to bring you closer to your release.

You feel your pussy flutter around his length and he groans into your neck once again. He knows he won't last much long so he maintains a steady rhythm, rubbing your clit in a way that's eliciting a chain of lewd moans from you.

Your body convulses violently, his body weight on top of yours holds you in place as you reach your orgasm. Within seconds, you hear him hiss cusses into your ear as his dick twitches inside you and his cum paints your walls. Your vision gets blurry and you close your eyes, your breathing gets ragged as your body melts onto the bed and you’re pretty sure you would've passed out if not for Suguru’s sloppy thrusts coming to a gradual stop. He slides your legs down his shoulders gently and you let them slump to the sides.

“Baby, you good?” His breath fans your face and you look at him with half-lidded eyes. You let out a tired chuckle at the concerned look on his face. You simply nod at him as you slowly bring your hands up to hook them around his neck, playing with the hair on his nape.

“Let's get you cleaned up,” he kisses your nose, “then you can rest all you want.” 

You pull him in for a lazy kiss and he obliges, wanting to relish in this moment a little bit longer.

~

You don't remember how you fell asleep but when you wake up to the almost blaring sound of your doorbell ringing, you find your body impossibly closer to his. Your face is almost buried in his chest with your arms and legs tangled with his, caging you into his whole being.

You pull away softly, wondering how you even managed to fall asleep in such an awkward position. You lean forward to kiss his forehead but move back in a haste when you hear the bell ring again, quietly getting out of the bed.

Putting on your pants and t-shirt, you make your way out of your room and to the main door.

Your surprise is evident on your face when you spot Marco standing in front of you.

“Hey…” you greet him, already feeling a weird sense of embarrassment creeping over you.

“Did I wake you up? I thought you’d be awake by now,” he checks his phone for the time.

“No… I slept in a bit since I couldn’t fall asleep after watching that scary film,” you confess, your brain working in full force to come up with the right words to break the news to him. 

He's still standing in the doorway since you haven't really invited him in so he tries his best to do some damage control, “Are you upset about yesterday? I'm sorry for kinda bailing on you last night.”

Right, if Marco had been there for movie night, you wouldn't have called Suguru when you felt alone and scared. But it didn't matter much as what had happened since was way more intense than your fuck buddy missing yet another movie night.

Before you have a chance to speak, you hear a voice from behind, “Oh, no worries, you weren't missed.” 

You turn to see Suguru walking towards you shirtless, in only his sweats. It wasn't out of the ordinary for Suguru to be so unwelcoming towards Marco but what surprised the guy were the hickeys on your flatmate's chest on full display.

And if Marco wasn't smart enough to connect the pieces together already, Suguru snaking an arm over your waist from behind and leaving a quick peck on your cheek, all while wishing the guy a ‘good morning’ was enough to make everything crystal clear. 

You give Suguru a side eye as you chuckle nervously, “Suguru, please give us a minute.”

“Ok, don’t take too long, baby,” he slaps your ass playfully but his eyes stay on Marco, almost taunting him with a cocky smile.

When Suguru walls back inside, you scratch the back of your nape awkwardly, “Sooo…”

“It’s fine, whatever. I just wish you’d told me about it before I embarrassed myself like this,” Marco shoots back, trying not to sound bitter but failing miserably.

“I’m so sorry. You have nothing to be embarrassed about… I'm the one who should be embarrassed,” you ramble as you observe his face for a change of expressions, “Would you like to come in?”

“Doubt that's a good idea,” his tone is cold.

“Right… are we cool? No hard feelings?” you ask.

“Nah, we were just fucking, that’s all– just don’t expect me to keep on being your friend now.”

“Oh, okay, I wasn't going to… guess this is it then?” you speak just as formally, getting slightly annoyed at his entitled tone.

“Yeah,” he lets out a dry chuckle before curtly nodding and leaving.

You close the door and swiftly walk to where Suguru is sitting on the sofa. He's grinning at you, extending an arm out towards you.

“Don't even try! I'm so embarrassed…” you scold him, “I wanted to break it to him gently!”

He simply shrugs before motioning you to get closer to him. You roll your eyes but nonetheless obey as you move closer till you’re standing in front of him. 

You cover your face with your hands, your muffled voice speaking, “That almost felt like an awkward breakup that 12 year olds have after calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend for a week…”

“Good… you can't be having two boyfriends at once,” he snorts as he wraps his arms around your waist to pull you closer, resting his forehead against your belly.

You grab him by the hair to pull his face away gently to look him in the eyes, “Wait, you want us to date?”

He nods as he chuckles at your surprised reaction, “You really are a clueless one. Yes, I want us to date… besides, I don’t just let random hookups squirt on my face.”

You shove his face away as you groan in embarrassment, “Stopppp.”

“Never. That was the highlight of the night for me– second only to the way your pretty little cunt fluttered around my dick,” he pulls you closer to kiss your belly from over the fabric. 

“Suguru, you have such a dirty mouth,” you push him away but he doesn't bug, further tightening his grip on your waist.

“It’s cause you like it dirty,” he pulls you down till you’re straddling his lap. You giggle when his hands move under your t-shirt to flick your already hardened nipples.

You hold onto his shoulders as you move closer to close the gap between your bodies as you kiss him.

“So?” He moves away to kiss your cheek, “Go out…” another peck on your nose, “...on a date…” next on your jaw, “...with me?” before kissing your forehead lovingly, “Please?”

You pull back to ponder over the question for a moment and the familiar butterflies reappear.

“Okay,” you nod, blushing as he nuzzles his face into your neck, “I'd like that a lot.”

“Okay… celebratory sex.” he exclaims as he bites your skin, making it tingle.

“No! I’m really sore!” you complain.

“Just one round, I'll be gentle,” he presses.

“Have some mercy on your poor girlfriend!” you coo as you lean back.

“Not if you talk like that… you’re only gonna make me hard,” he chuckles as he rubs his thumb over your bottom lip.

“Suguru!” you pout. He laughs as he leans forward to give you a quick peck.

“Ok fine… then, breakfast?” he asks and you nod. You hook your legs around his waist as he gets up with ease, making his way to the kitchen. You giggle when he squeezes your ass as he walks.

“Don't think you’re getting off that easily. I'm only letting you relax now so that I can fuck you later after our date tonight,” he places you onto to kitchen counter.

“Ah, so considerate!” you roll your eyes before kissing his cheek, your fingers tracing the outline of his chest gently. Your eyes meet and you stare at each other in silence. You crinkle your face at how cheesy the moment seems, splaying your palm over his face to break his intense gaze.

“Fuck– are you sure… at least just let me eat you out… nothing else,” he groans and you feel his dick poke against your inner thigh.

“Suguru!” You complain but you break into a fit of laughter at how adorable he seems like this, a side you hadn’t seen before today.

“Okay, okay, fine!” He rolls his eyes before cupping your face, “one kiss and then I'm gonna make you something delicious.” 

“Sure,” you laugh before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for another heart-fluttering kiss.

~fin~

#erensbirdie #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsukaisen x reader #jjk #geto x reader #geto suguru #geto x you #geto smut #jjk geto #jujutsu geto

[eddiesghxst]

no thoughts just loser!eddie losing his shit when he sees you over at his house for the first time, rifling through his things like any normal friend does.. but you stumble upon a box.under his bed. it’s like slow motion when he walks into his room and sees you open the lid and he nearly drops a glass of water, literally biting his fist in pain, trying to stop you but then you’d only get more curious of what he was hiding.

you. he has polaroids of you except they’re the dirty cum covered kinds. he has your underwear with his stains in it. he has your perfume bottles, your rings (he would totally get hard seeing how tiny they are compared to his, and imagining the dainty stones on the rings on your ring finger like an engagement stone)

it’s like a fucking shrine for you and he thinks he’s gonna pass out as your eyes widen.

but you only turn to him and smile, and his knees weaken. literally almost fainting when you kiss him because you have definitely slept with his sweatshirts, came to the idea of eddie, etc. he’s just such a fucking loser but that night he makes you cum so much you see stars and he’ll have a scrapbooks worth of polaroids (just from that night alone lol)

anyways do you think you could write a lil something based loosely off that? 🫶

BESTIE I MIGHTVE DIED YES. YES YES YES.

also this ended up longer than I'd intended but who cares its pervy!loser!eddie

18+ — MINORS DNI

word count: 1k

————

Eddie’s not sure if he believes this is real. There’s no way this is real, right? There’s no way he has his best friend naked on his bed, covered in sweat and cum— his cum, at that.

He almost thinks it’s all another one of his sick, perverted dreams, but then he’s reminded that none of those dreams have felt this real. None of his dreams have felt this vivid to where he can actually feel the tremble in your hands as you wrap a fist around his wet cock, the shift of the bed as you clumsily scramble to your knees, the lewd and unmistakable shlick sound of your hand fisting his spent cock. It’s never been this vivid— that’s how he knows this isn’t a dream.

You’re blissed out and cock-drunk as you shuffle to lean on all fours, lowering your mouth to suckle on Eddie’s leaking tip. Your toes curl at the sound of Eddie groaning above you, a hand resting on the back of your head to shove himself further down your throat. “Take it all the way in, that’s it— fuck,” Your center throbs at his words, a wet gagging noise emitting from the back of your throat when Eddie’s tip meets the tight space. He curses with a groan, head dropping back for a moment before he looks back down at you with a lazy smirk.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you gag on my dick, sweetheart.”

You whine, your hips grinding back against nothing, the cool breeze of his room sending shivers up your spine when it graces the wet heat of your cunt. Around you, scattered on the bed, are the many polaroids you had just discovered earlier. Snapped photos of you in bed, in the shower, getting dressed in your room; all images that would’ve sent anyone else running for the hills. Eddie was so sure you would never speak to him again when you found that box full of all things you, but to his surprise (and sinful delight), you were just as fucked up as Eddie, if not more.

Eddie’s eyes dart all over the bed; polaroids, lace panties and matching bras, dainty jewelry, lipsticks, and perfume bottles. Eddie Munson was a perverted thief, and it somehow landed him balls deep down your throat. 

He reaches down and picks up a particular Polaroid, one of his favorites; a picture of you laid on your stomach in your bed, one leg hiked up to form a comfortable sleeping position. You’d forgone your sleeping shorts this night, and Eddie took it upon himself to jack off and cover your ass in sticky ropes of his cum, snapping a photo as the white substance dripped down between the folds of your ass to stain your pretty panties (Eddie stole those panties that same night).

He takes the picture and holds it up between two fingers. “So many nights of wasted cum… you’ve got a lot to make up for, sweet girl.” His voice is low and teasing, and you whine against him, nuzzling his cock further down your throat until your nose brushes against the curly hairs surrounding his base.

Eddie’s knuckles are tight against your scalp when he pulls you off his cock, shivering at the wet gasp you take, bleary eyes blinking up at him as your spit drips onto his thighs. “Think you’ve been good enough for it?” He wraps a hand around himself and rubs his throbbing tip against your lips, humming in approval when you open your mouth to offer your tongue. He slaps himself against your tongue a few times, chuckling when you whine and squeeze your thighs together. You can feel the sticky feeling of his cum and your arousal sliding against the insides of your hot thighs, and your eyes roll at the sensation. You lean forward and nuzzle against his cock, “Please, Eds— want it so bad. I’ve been so good, I have.” Your words are nearly slurred; the only thing on your mind is the overwhelming urge you have to feel Eddie’s cum in the back of your throat.

You don’t see Eddie reaching for his camera, too focused on licking your way down to his balls. “Fuck— look at me, sweetheart, give me those pretty eyes.”

You slowly blink up at Eddie, wet lashes fluttering and pouty lips grazing his cock as you gaze at the camera. A flash and a snapping sound echo through the room before a white card come out the bottom, a curse falling from Eddie’s lips as he shakes the paper and tosses it to the side for later. He nods down towards you, “Love on it, baby; show me how much you love my cock.” You don’t wait for another second, licking a thick stripe up his cock, rounding your lips around his tip to suck eagerly. Eddie takes another picture, and you whine.

“Shit, I’m gonna come— keep sucking baby, keep taking me in.”

You shuffle forward, nose brushing against his pelvis once again, and Eddie takes it as permission to secure a hand atop your head and begin fucking himself into the back of your throat. Both of your hands are fisted into the sheets below you, watery eyes gazing up at the blissed-out Eddie above you. His hips falter during the last few thrusts; he doesn’t last much longer. 

“I’m gonna come… don’t swallow, okay?” You nod as best as you can, and without further directions, Eddie’s cum floods your mouth until you nearly choke on it. 

He pulls out of your mouth with a moan, instructing you to open your mouth and show him your tongue, which you immediately obey. He reaches for the camera once more, snapping one picture with you on all fours, gazing up at the camera with your tongue out, white sticky cum coating the inside of your mouth. He takes a second picture, this time with his hand cradling your jaw. The third and last picture he takes is with his hand still cradling your jaw, but his thumb is now pressed against your tongue, smearing his sticky mess across your tastebuds.

And when he tosses the newly printed photos into the pile of new Polaroids, he catches a glimpse of one clear picture of your pussy freshly fucked and covered in his cum. Eddie can’t help it when his cock twitches against his thigh once again.

It’s safe to say that Eddie had to get a new box the next day <3

#🫶 anon #THIS IS FILTHY IM SORRY BUT IM NOT #THIS IS ALSO NOT PROOF READ SO #HERE U GO! #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #drabble #eddie x reader #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson au #eddie x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things #eddie munson x you #perv!loser!eddie #perv!eddie #perv!eddie x reader

[itgetsdark-x]

Something In Your Mouth

Summary: what’s a little night out if not for a bit of teasing fun with your dad’s best-friend?

Warnings: 18+ minors dni, mentions of alcohol, age gap (Joel’s age unspecified), oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v (do better!!), edging, orgasm denial, forced orgasm (kinda), use of good girl etc, mild humiliation / degrading. idk i feel a lil unhinged with this one besties.

Characters: dbf!joel miller x (f) reader

Word Count: 5.3k

You pressed your glossy lips together to ensure that the hot pink covered every area of your pout and you smiled at your friend in the reflection of your bedroom mirror. 

“Girl, I’m telling you… Tonight is the night that I finally fuck Joel Miller.” You smirked, taking the bottle from your friend, Sasha’s hands and taking a long swig of the warming liquor.

“Ha! Yeah right… Are we on about the same Joel Miller here? Your dad’s friend, the single father himself and what’s that? Oh yeah, he’s ancient, old enough to be your own dad! He won’t touch you, jailbait, give up.” She laughed again as your flipped her off.

“Sash, I am in my mid-twenties, closer to thirty than I am twenty. Not to mention, I’m hot okay?! There are worse women Joel could sleep with. I’m just saying… I think it’s a good idea. I just get big dick energy from him y’know? I mean, have you seen his hands?! His fingers. I actually feel like if I don’t have him soon, I’m gonna go legally insane.” You huffed.

Sasha shook her head as you stood from your bed to get changed. You flung your comfy t-shirt and shorts into your friend’s direction and grabbed the outfit you had hung on your door. Tonight’s attire was an ensemble of a black leather skirt, hot pink tank top and your trusty platform Doc Marten boots.

“Be fucking real right now, that is not your underwear of choice for the evening!” Sasha all but screeched as she caught a glimpse of your undergarments as you began changing your outfit.

“What?!” You asked with feign innocence.

“You’re wearing a hot pink thong with matching bra. Please tell me this is not for Miller.” She sighed with exasperation, pinching at the bridge of her nose.

“Maybe it is… but hey, if Joel doesn’t want some tonight I’m sure some other lucky guy will appreciate the efforts I have gone to.” You shrugged, winking at your friend. “Now, how ‘bout you quit your judging and get changed so we can get to the bar! The girls are meeting us there.”

Sasha groaned with effort as she stood and joined you in getting changed.

———

The bar was busy, you were meeting your friends there to celebrate your upcoming birthday which meant your father was going to be there and in turn, so was Joel. You weren’t a complete idiot, you knew that trying to get with Joel was a huge risk for you both; if your father ever found out, you would most likely be forbidden to ever leave your apartment ever again and well, you couldn’t even imagine what your dad would do to Joel.

Which also meant you had to be calculated with how you went about it; no blatant flirting or teasing in front of your dad, you had to play your cards right, keep them close to your chest.

As soon as you and Sasha arrived into the dimly lit bar, your friends herded over to you and enveloped you in a big hug. You squealed with delight and greeted them all individually before your dad walked over, with the older Miller in tow close behind.

“There’s my princess, happy early birthday, sweetheart.” Your dad beamed, hugging you and kissing your temple.

“Thanks dad, and thanks for actually showing up! I know hanging out with us girls isn’t at the top of your Friday night agenda. Same for you Joel, thanks for coming.” You smiled bashfully at him before he closed the space between you both and gave you a quick squeeze.

Your head span and you could feel your heart threatening to beat right out of your chest, his heady cologne drowning your senses and driving you mad. It was an immediate effect and you couldn’t stop the way your core throbbed at the contact.

“Gotcha a drink darlin’. Happy early birthday.” He flashed a smile in your direction and gave you a glass filled with amber-coloured liquid. “Yes, it’s our favourite. Southern Comfort and lemonade.”

You grinned at him and took a swig of the drink gratefully, just as you turned to talk to your father again, you were almost certain you could feel Joel’s eyes raking over your body with hunger.

———

As the night wore on, the drinks flowed and the laughter grew rowdier and louder as the music in the bar was turned up. You were dancing with a couple of your friends, every now and then your eyes would catch Joel’s; he sat at the bar talking to your dad and nursing his whiskey.

“Sash, did you see the way he keeps looking at me? And earlier? Please tell me you saw that!” You whined.

“Ugh. God. I hate to feed your delusions but I did see it and I see it now. Even with your back turned, he’s watching you. Fuckin’ weird and intense, it’s like a predator with his prey. Waiting to strike.” She huffed, voice just loud enough for you to catch over the pop music playing.

“Okay… But why is that hot as fuck?” You laughed, throwing your head back as your danced. “I just need my dad to clear off, I love him but I can’t hit on his friend when he right there. That would be weird.”

You carried on dancing, with your friends and even with a couple of men when they tried it; you couldn’t help but notice the way Joel’s stare seemed to intensify when any man came near you, it made you smile to know that he was watching you.

One particular man caught your attention, he was similar to you in age, as far as you assumed and he was handsome, definitely easy on the eyes but nowhere near anywhere as good as Joel. He smirked at you from the bar and closed the distance between you until his hand was on your hip and he was dancing with you. You smiled sweetly at him, peering up at him through your lashes as you brought your thumb up to your glossy lips to suck on it seductively. You flashed a glance over to Joel who looked like he was ready to kill. 

Bingo. You thought to yourself and danced with the handsome male in front of you, the music boomed and you swayed your hips against him, you span yourself around so you could press your ass to his crotch and you smirked over at Joel once again who was now alone at the bar. Your fingers clutched your glass as you wrapped your lips around the thin, red straw and sucked up the cool drink. 

Joel quirked a brow at you, with a look that you couldn’t quite place, it seemed to settle somewhere between lust and utter disdain for you. You gave him a little wave and turned back to face the man you were dancing with, you looped your arms loosely around his neck and continued to dance along to the loud music. 

The nameless man leant down and whispered into your ear, the music distorted his voice but he said something about leaving with him which caused you to giggle. You got up onto your tiptoes to whisper back into his ear but felt a foreign hand pressed against the small of your back. The guy you were just dancing with backed away with his hands held up in innocence. 

“Hey!” You turned around with a deep frown. “Oh… hey, Joel.” You smiled.

“Your daddy left a little while ago, he saw you dancing and didn’t want to… disturb since you seemed busy…” He scoffed. 

“Well I was a lil busy, and now he’s gone. Whatcha want?” You huffed. 

“Don’t fuck around, little girl. We both know what you’re playin’ at.” 

“What?!” You asked with feigned innocence.

“Darlin’” he warned lowly in your ear, his voice sending shivers through you. “You’re out here, shakin’ your ass for everyone.”

“And? Last time I checked, I’m single, of age and having a bit of fun. Is that not allowed, Mr Miller? Not even on my birthday?” You asked sweetly, batting your eyelashes at him. 

Joel scoffed and rolled his eyes at you, this fake-innocence crap wasn’t getting anywhere with him and he knew you were doing it to get a reaction from him. 

“You’re being a little tease, darlin’ and I think you know it.” He growled, his voice low in your ear. 

You swallowed roughly, even with the drinks you had, your mouth suddenly felt impossibly dry with nerves. You shook your head to Joel and he just chuckled. 

“No, no… You know what you’re doing, I know you’ve been trying to get my attention all night and well, congrats. You’ve got my attention. So what now? What do you want, hm?” He asked, leaning back to gauge your reaction. 

“I — I, I want -“ You stumbled over your words dumbly, without a coherent sentence forming. 

“Hm?” He hummed, he took your hand and trailed it down his hard chest, down his stomach and let it graze across his crotch. 

Even with barely touching him, you could feel the hard length of his cock through the rough material of his worn jeans. You pushed your legs together in the vain hope of staving off the throbbing between them, you could feel your panties get slick as you imagined sinking to your knees and sucking Joel. 

“Funny, you seemed to be playing the big girl earlier, princess. Dancing with anyone, swinging your ass and hips for them. What’s the matter? Cat gotcha tongue now?” He smirked, his voice a soft coo in your ear. 

“I want you to fuck me.” You blurted out, unceremoniously and immediately, your cheeks burned with embarrassment. “I mean, I uh — ignore me. I’m gonna go find my friends.” You muttered. 

Joel shook his head and held onto your elbow roughly. “Come home with me then, darlin’. My truck is parked out back.”

“You’ve been drinking, I’ve had some drinks. One, I don’t wanna die in your rust-bucket truck and two, this is stupid. I’m being stupid.” You spoke quickly. 

“Firstly, I’m gonna ignore you just called my truck a rust-bucket, that’s a whole other conversation and two, I’ve had two drinks, perfectly fine to drive. And as long as you’re sober enough to consent, and you do wanna do this. I think it’s a wonderful idea. Maybe just don’t tell your daddy.” He laughed. 

You nodded dumbly, words failing you once again and let yourself be led out of the bar by Joel; you briefly shot a look behind you and for a second, you caught eyes with Sasha who just smirked at you as you left. 

—

Joel opened the truck door for you to climb in, you grabbed the handle on the side and hauled yourself in; knowing your skirt would rise and give Joel a quick glimpse of your skimpy fabric. 

Joel had to all but bite back a groan as he saw the flash hot pink, the curve of your ass just enveloping the lace as you sat down. 

“Fucking hell.” He cursed as he closed the door to his truck and went to the drivers side. “You really are a naughty little tease, aren’t you?” He laughed. 

You shrugged at him with a sheepish smile; in truth you weren’t always this bad but tonight it got you exactly what you wanted and you couldn’t bring yourself to care. 

Joel started his truck and within seconds of driving down the road, you reached your hand across the bench to palm at his cock; your delicate fingers wrapped around his half hard length through his jeans and you couldn’t help but shiver in anticipation. 

He felt thick, even when only half hard and your mouth watered at the thought of his thick cock hitting the back of your throat. 

“Impatient much?” Joel laughed, flashing a quick smirk in your direction. 

“I need to taste you, like, immediately.” You hummed, you knew it sounded cringey and cliche but you needed it more than you could comprehend. 

“Maybe let’s wait until we are back at mine — fuck —.” Joel cursed as your fingers quickly undid his jeans and dipped into the waistband of his boxers, albeit a little awkwardly. 

“I’m sat here, and I’m wet. I’m talking, on the verge of dripping onto my thighs. I want you. In a way I’ve never wanted a man before so… how about you let me get you warmed up so when we get back to yours, you can have your way with me.” You reasoned, your voice blunt. 

Joel couldn’t argue with that reasoning so he gently lifted his ass off the seat to allow you easier access to pull his thick cock out from his boxers. Your fingers expertly wrapped around his length and you marvelled at the fact your finger tips barely met. You stroked his shaft a few times as you felt him fully harden under your touch. 

You couldn’t help but giggle; it was immature and girlish but in this moment, you felt giddy. You awkwardly repositioned yourself so you could duck your head down and suck the tip of his cock into your wet mouth. 

Joel’s fingers tensed on his steering wheel, you could hear the squeak of the leather protest under his grasp as you wrapped your mouth around the male fully and sank your head down, enveloping him further. 

You kept a hand wrapped around the base of his cock and bobbed your head slowly, a soft moan being muffled by the fullness in your mouth. 

Above you, Joel groaned deeply as your tongue swirled around the tip and you grazed your teeth gently against his frenulum. 

“Oh fuck!” Joel cursed out, one hand coming down to grip into your hair tightly; he couldn’t help the way his hand pushed your head down further. “You look so good with my cock in your mouth. Fuck.” He praised, brushing some hair away so he could catch a better glimpse of the sight below him. 

You hummed in appreciation as you bobbed your head, your hand moving in perfect synchronicity with your skilled mouth. You removed Joel’s cock with a loud pop and you smirked at the male. You moved to kiss at his neck and your teeth grazed over his ear. 

“Tastes better than any sucker I’ve ever had.” You purred, your voice low and sultry. 

“You’re trouble.” Joel stated with a soft groan as your lips continued to kiss down his neck and your head travelled down south once more. “But you look so much cuter with something in your mouth, that’s its princess.” He cooed as your mouth sank around his cock once more. 

The drive back to Joel’s was a short one, even if he did contemplate driving around the block a couple more times just so he could feel your mouth around him for longer. 

Joel pulled into his drive, by this point you were sat up right and running a thumb along your bottom lip to tidy up your lip gloss. Joel tucked himself back into his jeans haphazardly before turning off the ignition to his truck. 

“Inside, quickly. I don’t need the neighbours seeing me bringing you home. You know how rumours spread ‘round here.” He mumbled and it was true, most people knew Joel and they in turn, knew your father. You could almost heard the whispers that would spread around this part of town if they caught wind of what you were doing with Joel. 

You hopped out his truck and walked to his front door ahead of him, making sure to keep a clear distance from the older male; no matter how hard your fingers were itching to explore his body. 

Joel held onto the small of your back as he quickly unlocked his front door and ushered you into the familiar space. 

“Upstairs. You know where my room is.” He stated bluntly as he removed his boots. 

You nodded without another word and silently went up the stairs; you may have been playing the confident card in the truck but now that you were here, now that you were in his house, your hands were shaking with nerves and anticipation. 

Joel entered the room a mere few seconds later and he smiled at you. 

“So you’re not that much of a little brat that you can follow basic instructions.” He cooed. 

You nodded, biting on your lip as you watched Joel effortlessly remove his t-shirt. Just as you pictured it; his chest was tanned and peppered with soft white hair. Further down his stomach as a groomed line of dark hair that disappeared under his waistband. 

“What’s the matter, little girl? Not so brave now?” He smirked, closing the distance between you to hold your chin roughly between his finger and thumb. 

He ducked his head down and kissed you roughly; it was an unceremonious clash of tongues as you kissed him back with intense fervour. 

“That’s what I thought.” He whispered against your lips and let go of your face. “Take off your clothes. Leave on your underwear, I wanna be the one to remove that from you.” He commanded, kicking off his own jeans and sitting on the edge of his bed. 

You suddenly felt self conscious, you could feel the burn of his gaze as you stood in front of him. You turned your back to him as you slowly undid the zip on your skirt and bent down to remove it. 

Behind you, Joel had pulled his cock from his boxers and was stroking himself as you removed your clothes. Once your shirt was removed, you span back round to face the male and gently crossed your legs as you watched him. 

“Fucking look at you.” He groaned, as his cock gently fucked into his fist. “Thought about your body so many times, knew I shouldn’t. Knew it was wrong but look at you, c’mhere.” He mumbled.

You felt your cheeks burn in embarrassment at his confession; it soothed your nerves as you realised the attraction was mutual between you both. Joel sat back a little and tapped his lap; you got the idea quickly and straddled him. 

You cock feel his swollen cock rub against your clothes heat and you whined weakly at the contact. 

“Please don’t tease me.” You whispered, looping your arms around his neck as Joel’s hands settled onto your soft hips. 

“‘M not gonna tease you…” he smirked, his eyes lit with mischievous intent. “But I bet you could cum just from rubbing yourself on my cock. Since you seemed to want it so bad at the bar, trying to get my attention. Well guess what, little girl, you got it. Now keep it.” He hummed. 

“Joel —“ you protested, to which he raised a brow at you in question. 

You pushed your hips forward so the tip of Joel’s cock nudged your damp panties, it nudged your clit and you gasp as you began to rut your hips back and forth. 

“Such a needy little girl, aren’t you? So needy for your daddy’s best friend that you’ll rub against his cock like a good little bitch.” He cooed, holding your cheek tenderly as his condescending words fuelled your hips to move faster. 

“Not enough.” You whimpered, your hands scratching at Joel’s back for more leverage. “Need you in me, please. I need to feel your fingers inside of me.”

Joel smirked and pressed two digits into your mouth without warning; you quickly sucked them in, your tongue swirled around them until they were coated with your saliva. 

“Is that what you mean, princess? My fingers are inside of you.”

You shook your head no as your hips moved desperately, the hot pink fabric of your lace thong was ruined; it was dark in colour as your arousal soaked the fabric. 

“Then what is it you mean? Tell me what you want.” Joel said quietly, removing his fingers from your mouth. A long ling of spittle keeping you connected to the older male. 

“Need your fingers in my pussy; need to feel them inside of me as I cum. P-please.” You whined, your voice sounded wrecked already as your hips stuttered against Joel’s cock. 

Joel dipped his fingers into the front of your lace panties, they were slick from your spit and they glided through your wetness with ease. 

He let out a moan as he felt your wetness soak his fingers further; his fingers circled around your clit with skill and your mouth fell agape with intense pleasure. 

You screwed your eyes shut as his fingers sped up to rub over your clit. 

“Oh that’s it, good girl. So wet for me, aren’t you? This all for me?” He hummed. 

You nodded, as your back arched away from the man so he could gain better access to your front. Joel continued to speed his fingers up; he watched your every movement; every heave of your chest, every gasp or twitch of your arm and he knew you were getting close. 

“Tell me when you’re going to cum.” Joel whispered, dropping his head down to kiss at your bra-clad chest. 

“I’m close, Joel. So fucking close.” You whimpered, you were barely making a noise. 

“That’s it, atta a girl.” Joel praised. 

“I — I’m gonna, I’m gonna, fuck!” You screeched, the raw noise ripping from your throat as Joel removed his fingers from your panties at precisely the wrong moment. 

He smirked at you, his mannerism teasing and cruel. 

“What the fuck?” You squeaked, your eyes wide and your chest still heaving. 

“Well I didn’t say you were going to cum, did I?” Joel stated. 

“Please.” You pleaded, your eyes searching for mercy in him. 

“Lay down on the bed for me.” Joel whispered, tapping your ass gently. 

You felt dumb, your body was tingling all over from the overstimulation and lack of orgasm and you moved without knowing how you were doing it. You laid down onto Joel’s bed, your back resting up against his pillows. 

It took everything in you to not turn your head into the soft pillows, breathe in his scent and fuck yourself right there. You felt like a horny teenager who couldn’t ever satisfy themself. 

Joel fully kicked off his boxers and knelt beside you, he motioned his finger in an upwards movement and you sat up for him. Quickly, he removed your bra and your chest gently fell from the hot pink fabric. He gently pushed you back onto the bed and then worked to remove your panties, they too were discarded with the rest of your clothes on the floor. 

“Now, where were we?” Joel smirked before he trailed his fingers back between your legs. 

Instinctively, you spread them for him as he worked over your clit again; within seconds, the pressure was there once again and you tightly gripped at the sheets below you. 

“Joel —“ you whined. “Please. Please, I am begging you, please let me cum.”

“Now where’s the fun in that, little girl?” He murmured menacingly. 

You closed your eyes and willed yourself to not burst into tears there and then; the pleasure you were feeling was intense, Joel’s fingers moved expertly to bring you close to your orgasm and then there was the humiliation of him denying you the thing you wanted most. 

Joel was watching you intensely, he was picking up on every little micro movement your body made or didn’t make, he was calculating when to stop his movements or when to speed them up. Bringing you right up to the edge, almost letting you peer over it but then pulling you right back again; never quite letting you topple into ecstasy. 

He had done this three or four times now and the noises that left your body no longer sounded like your own; they were wrecked sobs of desperation as your arousal coated your thighs and left a wet spot behind in your wake. You could barely remember your own name or where you were anymore; Joel had messed with your mind.

“Please.” You pleaded to Joel, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Please let me cum, I can’t — I can’t take anymore.” Your eyes were glassy with tears at the intensity of Joel’s actions and your own frustration as you experienced another ruined orgasm.

You knew if you really wanted this to stop, you could stand up, get dressed and walk away but you didn’t want that. Joel Miller had rotted your brain and you were fixated under him, completely at his will. 

Joel smirked at you again, that same look he kept giving you; it was smug, it was infuriating and it turned you on even more. 

“Look at you, princess. You’re a mess.” He whispered, his spare hand brushing a strand of hair away from your features. “So wet and messy for me, hm? Are you sure you can even cum now? Do you know what to do?”

You nodded eagerly at the older male, your eyes pleading silently as your mouth was hung open in constant pleasure. 

Joel didn’t say a word, instead he sunk two fingers into your hole without warning; his thumb circled your clit with intense pressure. It was like a million sparks erupted throughout your body; your back arched off the bed, your thighs fell open even further and your walls clenched around Joel tightly. 

You could feel yourself flutter and pulsate around the man’s digits as you came. Your eyes were screwed shut and your mouth was open, not a single sound fell from your parted lips apart from the start of a strangled moan. The pleasure, the pure ecstasy, was too intense for you to make a single sound. 

Joel pumped his fingers quickly, watching as you came on them. 

“That’s it, fuck. So good. Give me another one.” He growled, his arm shaking as he pumped his fingers even faster inside of you; his thumb pass over your clit with each thrust of his digits. 

You honestly didn’t know if you could give him another; your body was shaking as you laid there and took what Joel was giving to you. It was intense and never before had you had such a strong orgasm; there were still white flecks dancing around in your vision as your body built up to another orgasm. 

Your fingers were clawing at Joel’s arm and you were sure that you had broken his skin as you came on his fingers; there was no telling what would happen when he ripped another orgasm from you. 

“Be a good girl and then I’ll give you my cock, come on, princess. I know you can give me another one. I know you’re good enough for that.” He whispered. “Look at what you’re doing to me, baby girl. Look at my cock, it’s leaking for you. So good.”

You peered between your bodies and saw the head of Joel’s cock, it was flushed and there was a dribble of precum falling from the tip and collecting onto the sheets below. 

“Ki-kiss me.” You managed to squeak out, your voice shaking as you looked at the older male. 

He smiled and happily obliged, your lips met in a sloppy kiss as you felt your body shake more intensely. The tight coil in the pit of your stomach snapped once more and another intense orgasm rippled through you like a shockwave.

“Good. Good girl.” Joel praised against your lips as he worked you through your orgasm. 

He pulled his fingers from your hole and rubbed them speedily across your clit, you let out a yelp at the overstimulation and gripped Joel’s arm tightly for leverage. 

“I’m gonna —“ you managed to call out before he felt yourself gush onto the sheets below you. 

“Oh fuck.” Joel moaned, his cock jumping with arousal as you squirted onto his hand. 

“I’m so, fuck —“ you breathed shakily and held yourself up onto your elbows, tears staining your cheeks from the intense pleasure. “Joel, I’m so sorry. Fuck, let me clean up. Fuck.” You cursed, your body shaking as you went to sit up. 

Joel chuckled and gently pushed your shoulder back onto the bed with a shake of his head. 

“So sexy. Have you ever squirted before?” He asked, finally removing his hand from your throbbing pussy. 

You shook your head and he just grinned at you boyishly. 

“That’s even hotter, how did it feel, princess? Did you like it?” He asked softly, his fingers tracing soft patterns across your tummy. 

You blushed at his words and gently cleared your throat. “I did like it, I didn’t… well I didn’t know I could actually cum that hard. It was intense but amazing.” You said softly, looking up at Joel through your lashes. 

“I’m glad.” He smiled. “Look, we don’t have to — well, y’know, we don’t have to have sex. If you’re too stimulated or whatever. I can sort myself out.”

You quickly shook your head and pulled him closer to your naked body. 

“No!” You said quickly. “I mean, I am a little over stimulated right now but please, I need to feel your cock in me.”

Joel didn’t need to be told twice and he roughly flipped your body over so your face was against the bed. You gasped under the male, surprised by his strength. Behind yourself, you could feel Joel moving, positioning himself so his cock was nudging against your entrance. 

He thrust forward, filling you once again; you were all-consumed with just Joel. The heady scent of him lingered on the bellows below your face, you cunt ached with lingering pleasure of your orgasms and now, you could feel his large hands gripping your hips tightly as he fucked into you with fervour. 

“That’s it, sweet girl, taking me so well. So good.” Joel mewled, the praise sending heat through your body once more. 

Your fingers clung to the soft fabric of the sheets below you, and you couldn’t help the soft moans that escaped your lips as Joel fucked you. 

“So good. F-faster.” You whimpered. 

Joel obliged, he sped his hips up and dug his fingers into your hips so hard you felt as if you were going to have bruises there for days. 

Joel’s hips began to stutter, his groans grew deeper and you clenched around him, trying to bring him closer to filling you. 

“Such. A. Good. Little. Girl.” Joel groaned, each word accentuated by a deep thrust. “This is my cunt now, got it? Hm. All mine. Fuck, you’re so good for me.”

You nodded under him with a soft moan as he bottomed himself out in you, his cock impossibly deep as you felt it twitch before he coated your insides with his hot cum. You whined at the sensation and felt yourself flutter around his pulsing cock instinctively. 

“Shit.” He groaned, giving one final sloppy thrust before we collapsed down onto the bed beside you with his chest heaving deeply. 

You followed suit, your body finally giving out from under yourself; you grimaced as your body touched the soaked patch on the bed and you began to feel Joel leak from inside of you. 

“‘M a mess but so tired.” You yawned, scrunching your face in disgust. 

“Let me clean you up.” Joel whispered, stroking your cheek. 

He let out a grunt as he climbed off the bed, his limbs aching from the effort. He scooped your body from the mattress and carried you to the bathroom where he sat you in the bath. He turned the shower on and you hummed as the warm water hit your body, not caring your hair and makeup would be a mess. 

Joel climbed behind you and gently rubbed your shoulders as the warm water washed away the messes you both made. 

-

-

A/N: my requests are open again, I can’t promise I’ll always write them really quickly but please send me any ideas of stuff u wanna read <3 love u all <3

#dbf!joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #dbf!joel #joel x reader #joel miller

[httpiastri]

this christmas – op81

ski slopes, mistletoes, and the guy you've been crushing on for years – what could be better?

genre: fluff, mutual pining, friends to lovers!au, smut (just one scene in the end, you can skip it if you want)

pairing: female leclerc!reader x oscar piastri

other characters: lando norris, charles leclerc, george russell & mundt, alex albon & lily muni he, pierre gasly & kika cerqueira gomes

warnings: mentions of alcohol, smut, not much more i think

word count: 13.8k (LMAO)

requested?: yes!!

author’s note: hello hello!! a lot to say about this one. first of all, thank you to @be-your-coffee-pot for this request, and i apologize for not getting to it earlier than now. for everyone’s knowledge, the request was sent in to me in august, so… yeah. i know it’s not exactly what you asked for, but i hope you like it anyway <3

second of all, i feel pretty happy about some of these scenes, but some… not so much. some of the fillers have parts that i really despite, but i don’t really have time to rewrite since christmas is like 2 days away lol. also, my description of the reader’s relationship to charles is not my best work, idk why he barely even appears, and i’m also not sure why logan isn’t in this...

third of all, my red divider things make my posts disappear from the tags, so i didn’t put any in this time. it looks bad, i know, but idk how to fix it. if anyone does, please let me know. :)

and lastly: i only proofread this whole thing once yesterday, but tumblr was being a bitch and i got so frustrated that i do not have the energy to proofread it again. so please, if you happen to find any spelling or grammar mistakes, i would be very thankful if you let me know. <3

hope you all enjoy !!

december 12th, 2:11pm

oscar has always loved winter.

it started in his childhood; the holiday films he'd seen as a child, the way it always seemed to magically snow right on christmas eve really started something in him. it hadn't been common for him to get snow back home in australia when he was younger but once he moved to the england, he got to experience it quite a lot. playing, fighting and just existing in the snow was like an unfilled childhood need that stayed with him until his older years.

he loved spending christmas at home with his family, but ever since he got to experience real christmases with snow, trees and cozy darkness, he craved it more than he craved lying on the beach in his swimming trunks.

so when he was asked to come along to the swiss alps for a vacation during the winter break, he packed his bags right away. he and lando just happened to book the same flight, and they both arrived at the airport around noon, getting into a cab to take them to the accommodation together.

when they arrive outside the cottage, oscar is in shock; it is enormous. he had imagined just a tiny, cute little house – not that he was sure how seven drivers and a couple of girlfriends would fit in a "tiny" house – but he was far from right.

him and lando are the second pair to arrive, just about an hour after alex and lily, who are the self-proclaimed 'hosts' as they took care of all of the booking and planning.

"we thought that one would be lando's room," alex starts, pointing down the hallway. "since it's far away from everyone else, and i'm sure we all would prefer to actually get some sleep during the night time."

"oh, shut it..." lando mumbles, shoving his friend on his shoulder.

"this one can be yours, oscar," lily says, moving in the opposite direction and gesturing to another room. then, she points at the one right next to it. "and this one has two beds, so it's for charles and his sister."

oscar's ears perk up. "y/n is going to be here?" he speaks almost took quickly, making the other three turn to look at him.

"oh, i thought you knew..." lily has an apologetic look on her face.

"i must've forgotten," oscar answers, though he's completely sure no one told him about it. there's no way he would forget you. "don't worry, it's cool."

the hosts continue to move down the hallway, and the mclaren boys are just about to follow along when lando elbows oscar's side playfully. "it's cool?"

oscar raises an eyebrow, trying to keep calm. "what?"

"the youngest leclerc coming along?" a grin takes up lando's entire face. "it's just cool? is she cool, or-"

"goodbye, lando." oscar shakes his head, darting towards alex and lily again. he takes a few deep breaths, hoping the blush he can feel spreading across his cheeks isn't too obvious.

unfortunately, lando didn't need to see the blush to know. he has caught his teammate staring at you too many times over the season, and he is fully aware of the way oscar always is suddenly interested in the conversation whenever you're the topic of discussion.

lando knows everything. and this christmas, he's going to be the best wingman the world has ever seen.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 13th, 12:53am

it's past midnight when you and charles arrive. your flight had been delayed, and then the gps had stopped working all of a sudden. and then, charles just refused to drive any faster than 30 km/h, saying it was too dangerous. as if he didn't drive cars in ten times that speed without even flinching.

you assume the whole house is sleeping already, so you and charles both sneak in as quietly as you can. someone – lily, assumably – has left you a note on the front door, guiding you to your shared room. it all goes smoothly – until charles trips over the doorframe, dropping his bag onto the floor as he tries not to fall down. the sound rattles through the hallway and you flinch, stopping in your tracks as you hope no one's woken up. but just a second later, the door opposite yours opens and a head sticks out.

oscar.

your heart softens and your shoulders relax when your gaze meets his. your soft smile is mirrored on his face, the sleepiness evident in his droopy eyes and the way strands of his bedhead point in every direction.

he looks like he's just about to say something when charles speaks up. "sorry, man! were you asleep?"

he walks up to the australian, giving him a firm handshake and a pat on the back. oscar shakes his head. "i was up reading," his huskey accent is like music to your ears. "i thought i heard some rustling out here, and then..." he nods his head toward the suitcase on the floor.

your brother laughs as he steps back, walking into the room with the "leclerc" sign. "well, i'll let you get back to that then," he says, picking up the bag from the floor and looking back one last time. "good night."

and then, you were just two.

you and oscar stand still for a moment, just watching each other. then, he opens up his arms, welcoming you into his embrace. you step forward and drape your arms around his shoulders as his wrap around your waist, and you let out a content sigh. he's warm, comfortable, and the way he squeezes your body has your mind spinning.

"it's been a while," he says when you part from the hug, a soft grin playing on his lips.

"like a month," you chuckle, crossing your arms over your chest.

"a month has never felt this long before."

you're not sure when your crush on him started forming.

as someone who's always been interested in racing, even in the series your brother isn't in, you've kept up with most results and championships – including oscar's seasons in f2 and f3. after seeing oscar, the unstoppable rookie who completely crushed his season in f3, you made sure to keep an eye at him in f2 the following year. and it's easy to say that you liked what you saw. especially in jeddah.

you'd meet him occasionally around the paddock the following year, just giving him a sweet smile and a quick greeting as if it was no big deal. but you always found yourself squealing on the inside and taking deep breaths to stay calm whenever you made eye contact with him.

then came 2023 and his debut in f1. yet again, he exceeded everyone's expectations, performing better than most drivers who'd been on the grid for years. with his permanent role on the grid, he was around more – and so were you. it wasn't uncommon for the two of you to bump into each other, around the paddock or during media days or in afterparties, and now you tried not to shy away.

talking to oscar was always simple. he was easygoing, it all seemed effortless, and you felt more relaxed. before you knew it, you could chat about racing strategies and tyre management for twenty minutes before a member of the mclaren staff interrupted you, rushing oscar away somewhere. you got to know each other slowly throughout the season, though never really going further than some friendly conversations, but you felt happy knowing that you'd taken the first step towards getting closer to him.

"so..." he starts. "you've been good?"

you nod. "yeah, a lot of studying but it's been alright. you?"

"yeah."

and there it is again, that slightly awkward silence. it's natural, you haven't seen each other since that night in abu dhabi and you're both a little unsure of where you stand after it. the tension is so thick that you could cut through it with a knife, and you kind of want to escape the whole situation. but then he speaks up.

"hey, i just wanted to-"

he's interrupted by the call of your name, and when you turn around, charles is leaning against the doorframe, eyes hazy. "are you going to sleep tonight or what?" he asks, dragging a hand through his already messy hair.

you feel a weight lift off your shoulders – and at the same time, your stomach tightens in disappointment. you nod at your brother, looking back at oscar to give him a wave and a "sleep well", before joining charles in your shared room.

oscar stands still in the corridor for a moment, before sighing and slapping himself in his mind for being so awkward and messing up this opportunity. but on the other side of the door, you stand still too as you watch your brother jump onto his bed, taking a deep breath to clear your mind.

you're just thankful the room is so dark that he can't see your ever-reddening cheeks.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 13th, 10:24am

despite the never-ending pitter-patter of your heart as you went to bed last night, you could fall asleep quite quickly, seeing as you were utterly exhausted from traveling. breakfast this morning feels like you and charles have just been reunited with your childhood friends after being kidnapped for years; not like you had just gone a few weeks without seeing each other. everyone runs around hugging, chatting about how much they've missed each other and how great this trip will be.

"did you get new highlights?" kika asks you, sliding into the seat next to you by the long table as you stuff a piece of bread into your mouth. the room is a combination of a kitchen and a dining hall, with a big cooking area and a glass wall giving the dining area a beautiful view of the mountains outside. in the middle stands a long table with enough seats for all of you, filled with fresh pastries and other breakfast goods to celebrate the first day of the trip. "or is it just the light?"

"just the light," you answer, shooting her a smile as you pick up your cup of coffee.

"oh my god, i almost forgot to ask you," lily starts and places her elbows on the table, her face resting in her hands. "what happened to that guy from raya you were talking to? did you end up going out?"

oscar is sitting a few seats down the table, pretending to be immersed in a conversation with some of the other drivers about the last few races of the season, while actually just doing his best to listen in on the conversation you're having. when he hears alex's girlfriend mention raya, his ears perk up and his breath gets caught in his throat. a million thoughts instantly crash into his mind.

she's seeing someone? how could i not know this? she's on raya? is she actively looking for a partner? who is this guy they're talking about?

he coughs and tries to act normal, shaking off the uncomfortable feeling passing through his body. he soon hears the sweet sound of your wholehearted laughter, and he almost smiles instinctively at it, before he can remind himself that lando's story about las vegas isn't exactly a smiley matter. "you're not going to believe this, i have the best story," you say in-between fits of giggles. "i met up with him for some drinks, and guess what he said? that he has a foot fetish and has dreamed about me caressing his face with my feet." all of the girls squeal and explode with laughter, making some of the boys flinch and look over to see what all the commotion is about. "so, safe to say, we never met up again. and i haven't wanted to go out with anyone else from there, either. i have a feeling they're all just creeps."

"hey, don't lose hope!" kika says while elbowing your side, but her actions are too soft, forcing you to fold over as an uncomfortable feeling spreads through your body. however, a burst of laughter spills past your lips. kika immediately holds her arm back, laughing along. "crap, i'm sorry! i totally forgot how ticklish you are."

you shake your head, your hand landing on her shoulder. "no worries," you tell her. "but, i haven't lost hope. i just don't think my soulmate is lurking around on raya with the foot fetishists."

oscar feels his shoulders relax again, feeling alright with focusing back on the boys' conversation now that he knows you in fact aren't seeing anyone.

maybe he has a shot, after all. as long as he doesn't talk too much about your feet.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 14th, 3:09pm

lando thinks he's so smart.

when he tells oscar to go ask if you'd like to have some of the gingerbread cookies he's bought, it's the third time today he has forced some kind of interaction between the two of you. he is sure that the more time that the two of you spend with each other, the more likely you will be to stop pining and just confess already.

but this time, oscar glares at the brit. "why don't you ask her yourself?"

"because you know what room she's in," lando hums back, reaching into the cupboard with some groceries. "i keep getting lost, the house is too big. plus, i'm busy." he motions to the half-empty grocery bag on the counter.

oscar lets out a sigh, but nods. "how can you memorize all tracks on the calendar, but you get lost in a cabin?" he asks rhetorically, whilst turning around and making his way down the hallway towards your room.

it's not that oscar doesn't enjoy 'accidentally' being forced into talking to you; it's the extreme lack of discretion lando is showing that makes him annoyed. it makes oscar seem like he's the one coming up with silly excuses to talk to you, and he doesn't like how it makes him look. he'd rather be seen as chill, laidback, someone who doesn't force things. he doesn't want you to catch on too early and reject him.

your voice echoes a 'come in' when he knocks on the door to your bedroom, and he pushes the door open just a little to reveal you sitting on the bed, a thick blanket wrapped over your shoulders. a grin spreads across your lips when you make eye contact with him. "hi," you say, placing the book you were reading on the bedside table.

"hey," he answers, stepping inside the room. "i... lando bought some gingerbread cookies, and we were going to make some hot chocolate, and..." his voice trails off as his eyes wander down your body, taking in the christmas sweater you're wearing and the fuzzy socks covering your feet. he smiles absentmindedly at the sight, loving how cozy you seem, and wishing he was sitting right there with you, sharing the blanket.

you nod, understanding him despite his lack of words. "i'll be right there."

oscar gives you a thumbs up – one he then facepalms himself for when he's left your room – before moving towards the kitchen again. but when he walks into it, he sees something hanging from a lamp. he stops in his tracks. "no way..."

festive cookies aren't the only thing lando bought when he went to the local supermarket. he also got the ultimate tool for securing his master plan – a mistletoe.

he doesn't know how, but he's planning to make sure you and oscar meet underneath it at least once before the holidays are over. there's no way you'll both be able to avoid it all week.

of course, lando isn't the only one rooting for the two of you. most of the other drivers know too – how can they not notice the glances you share and the way you light up when someone mentions the other in a conversation? – and most of them are in on his plans. charles is probably the only one in the house who's still oblivious to your and oscar's pining, and lando thinks that he might interfere with the matchmaking if he figures something out, so the brit keeps quiet.

oscar wants to pull the mistletoe down, rip it apart and throw it in the trash, but he refrains. something inside him tells him this might actually work out in his favor – and he decides to trust his gut this time.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 15th, 2:01am

sleeping can be tricky, especially when your brother is snoring loudly in a bed just a few meters away from you.

who even decided to put him and you in the same room?

when you've been tossing and turning to no avail for about an hour, you decide it's time to do something, anything, to hopefully get a little tired again. a glass of warm milk never hurt anyone, did it?

you make your way to the kitchen, pour yourself a glass of milk and put it in the microwave, before turning to look through the windows.

the view of the mountains is breathtaking. there is an untouched, thick layer of snow covering the area, with new flakes still falling. the sun set long ago, but the snow makes it all seem light. the lake below you is just barely visible by now, almost completely coated in snow.

it's completely serene, and you find yourself getting lost in the scenery. however, you're shaken out of your trance when you hear steps behind you. when you turn around, your eyes find someone standing just a few meters away, barely visible in the dark.

you jump in your place and clutch your chest in shock, not expecting anyone else to be up at this hour. when the person steps into the light of the little kitchen lap you had turned on, you relax instantly. "holy shit, oscar," you breathe. "you nearly scared me to death."

"i'm sorry," the australian chuckles. "i didn't know how to approach you without scaring you..."

"what even are you doing up?" you question, crossing your arms over your chest as you lean back against the counter.

"i was just reading in my bed when i heard your door opening, and then footsteps, so..." he trails off when his eyes wander out towards the living room, seemingly just as taken by the sight as you were just moments ago. "i wanted to make sure everything was okay."

"well, everything is okay, so..."

there's some kind of awkwardness hanging in the air. it's not only because of the obvious uncertainty of what to say or do in this situation; it has more to do with the fact that this isn't the first time that the two of you have found yourselves this close with this much tension, all alone at night. sure, it's a lot like the night of your arrival here, but another memory springs to your mind, too.

just under a month ago, following the after-party in abu dhabi, oscar had accompanied you back to the hotel when you started getting too tipsy to keep yourself up on the dance floor. your brother had been nowhere in sight, so oscar took it upon himself to help you out, draping an arm across your waist before walking you all the way to your hotel room. and when you'd arrived in the dimly lit corridor, you'd turned up towards him to thank him, accidentally brushing your nose against his as you did. both of you had broken out in giggles, neither especially sober, but you stayed close – and when the laughter settled, you just watched each other. when his gaze had flickered between your eyes and lips, your breath hitched in your throat, the anticipation growing stronger. you had leaned in even closer, your eyes fluttering closed-

but just as your lips were about to brush his, you had been interrupted. a door a few meters away had opened and the two of you jumped apart, watching as your brother stepped out and exclaimed that he had been wondering where you ended up. oscar had wished you both a good night before hurrying off, the embarrassment of almost getting caught by his friend being too much for him to handle.

you just hoped oscar had been too drunk to remember it, because otherwise, things were bound to get quite awkward. you didn't want him to act differently around you just because you have feelings for him.

thankfully, he hasn't said or done anything to make you think he does remember it.

as you're thinking back to that night in abu dhabi, you nearly get your second heart attack when the microwave goes off with a loud beep. you scramble to turn it off and take out your milk, almost burning yourself on the hot glass in the meantime.

oscar watches you with an amused grin before he forces his gaze off you, eyes wandering over to the windows again. "quite the view, huh?"

you look over your shoulder at the blanketed mountains. "yeah, it's breathtaking," you reply, before growing quiet.

he pauses for a moment, too. "there's something magical about this place. makes everything seem simpler, quieter..."

you nod. "yeah, it does."

something about the moment makes you realize that maybe, just maybe, the awkwardness between you and oscar isn't as insurmountable as you once thought it would be. the shared quietude is comfortable, and you feel at ease. he hasn't brought up abu dhabi – he probably won't, you feel – and maybe you could both just put it behind you and focus on enjoying your trip.

when you eventually get back in your bed, it's with the same kind of pitter-patter of your heart as when you and charles arrived in the cabin a few days ago. needless to say, the glass of warm milk probably isn't going to help.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 16th, 9:02pm

the mistletoe has moved.

when you first noticed it the other day, it was hanging from a kitchen lamp. and now, it's in the doorframe leading into the living room.

you're planning on avoiding it at all costs, not wanting to slip up and accidentally get under it with the wrong person. or the right one, for that matter. the awkwardness of kissing your crush in front of friends and family would be too much to handle.

some others seem to have the exact opposite attitude towards the decoration, though. kika and pierre can be found by it about ten times per day, and alex and lily have no issues sharing a few kisses whenever they "accidentally" pass it.

no matter what, lando has a mischievous grin whenever anyone mentions it, or even walks near it.

his grin stays on when he decides to let himself be in charge of the outing you all have to the christmas tree farm nearby. the farm is too big and would take too long if everyone was going to look at every tree, so lando divides everyone into groups of two based on who they're standing next to as you walk past the gates.

what a coincidence that you're standing right next to oscar when he says this.

lando ushers the two of you off to the rows with quite tall, pre-decorated trees. "so," oscar starts as you both stop in front of a tree with white lights and ornaments hung all over it. "what do you think about this one?"

"well, it's lovely," you say, scanning it thoroughly. "but isn't the true test how well it fits into the living room?"

he nods, despite his confusion, and he shoots a curious glance your way. "and how do we determine that?"

with a playful grin, you hold up an imaginary measuring tape, pretending to size up the tree with a critical eye. "i'm trying to figure out if it fits this corner best, or..."

he follows your gaze, realizing the tease in your words. "i think maybe it's better in the other corner," he hums and points to the side as you turn a little.

"exactly."

lando never inserted himself into a group; he's too focused on watching the two of you share a lighthearted laugh at the situation. though his mistletoe back in the cabin might still have a trick or two up its metaphorical sleeve, he is already proud of his matchmaking antics.

and, he is sure you'll both crack. it is just a matter of time.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 17th, 1:43pm

"i never thought skiing would be this hard," you groan as you step into a cottage, the warmth enveloping you and beginning to defrost you instantly.

oscar laughs at the exasperated tone in your voice. "this was just the kids' slope, you do remember that, right?" you stick your tongue out at him, slumping down on a bench by a table. "you just wait before you do some real skiing..."

you had never skied before today. oscar had, but he said it was too long ago and that he needed an easy start. plus, he couldn't just leave you all alone in the children's slope without an instructor.

you'd fallen over at least five times, despite the fact that the slope was practically flat. thankfully, oscar promised to buy you some hot chocolate in a cottage café to cheer you up.

when he comes back from the cashier carrying two big, steaming cups of chocolate, you've regained most of the feeling in your fingers again. the hot piece of ceramic almost burns your skin, but you think it's worth it; you need the sugar and you need it now.

"you know what the worst thing is?" you ask, bringing the cup up to your face with both hands. you start sipping on the drink and oscar glances at you with a questioning look as he slips down next to you on the bench. "carrying those goddamn skis with me. not only does it suck to actually ski, but dragging them all the way from the rental shop…"

"if it's that much of a bother, i can carry them for you."

"and carry your own too?" you scoff, watching him flinch as he burns his tongue on the drink. "you're not that strong."

he lets out a groan. "you're not even strong enough to carry your own, so you shouldn't say anything."

"i can carry them!" you protest, shooting him a glare. "i just don't want to. two very different things."

you both go silent momentarily, too busy focusing on how good it feels to no longer be frozen to the marrow. the cabin is filled with people; kids running in circles around the tables, soon to be tired again after the initial sugar shock from their afternoon snack; a group of older ladies gossiping and enjoying getting some rest just like you; and some young adults in the far corner are already busy dancing on the tables with their after-ski drinks in their hands.

"you know what? i changed my mind," you tell him, scooting away from him a little and placing your skiing boot on the bench. "these things. they're the worst."

you start to unclasp the boot, sighing in relief as you finally tug the shoe off your foot, throwing it onto the floor. you've only worn it for about an hour, but you can already feel the bruises beginning to form. you're just about to reach down to undo the other boot, too, when oscar reaches towards your foot.

your eyebrows shoot up as he takes it in his hands, pulling the foot into his lap. and then, his fingers begin to wander up and down your foot and ankle, giving you soft squeezes and pressing down on the spaces where he thinks the boot has squeezed you the most. you hold back a pleasured sound, seeing as it would sound way too inappropriate right now, but oscar subconsciously takes note of how you're getting flushed because he soon looks up at your face.

"is this okay?"

you swallow down the lump in your throat, nodding quickly. "y-yeah… just don't tickle me..."

when did things get so intimate? mere minutes ago, you couldn't think about anything other than how you were so cold your nose was going to fall off. but now, you can't stop your eyes from following his long, sleek fingers, thinking about how good they feel and imagining how good they would feel somewhere else-

"give me your other foot."

you're thankful that he interrupts your train of thought before your mind wanders too far.

compose yourself, woman.

"don't tell me you have a foot fetish, too," you tease, turning around so that you can place your other foot on the bench too. he lets out a hearty laugh, swiftly undoing your other boot before letting it drop to the ground.

"oh, shut it. do you want a massage or not?"

you shoot him pout, giving his shoulder a thankful pat before taking your cup in your hands again. you focus on the drink, watching how the steam rises and the marshmallows melt. you can't look over at him anymore, scared of your cheeks growing too red and your face giving away your feelings.

the bell by the door rings behind you, and you look towards it out of habit. and in comes alex, george, lily and carmen, laughing and chatting loudly about the black slope they just went down. oscar doesn't seem to notice, but you hastily pull your feet from his lap, sitting down properly – unfortunately making eye contact with alex as you do. he leans forward to lily, whispering something in her ear, and you watch as her eyes dart to you and a smirk grows on her lips.

shit.

the clicking of her boots against the stone floor meets your ears and oscar turns his head at the sound, suddenly realizing why you withdrew from him. "hey there," lily cheers, each of her hands landing your and oscar's shoulders. "what have you been up to?"

your eyes meet his briefly, before looking back up at lily. "just... drinking some chocolate..."

"oh, no skiing?"

"she crashed too much, i couldn't keep her out there and let her continue to embarrass me all day," oscar tells her and you shove his shoulder.

"do you mind if we join you guys?" george asks, coming around the table and not even giving you a second to think about it before he sets two cups of chocolate down on the table. the grin he's wearing only tells you one thing: alex told him already. carmen's lips show off a matching set.

"not at all..."

‎‎ ‎‎

december 18th, 10:32am

you huff as you slump down on the living room couch, your mood not even getting brought up by watching the newly installed christmas tree in front of you. you hadn't even been out skiing that much yesterday, yet every single inch of your body aches. not only do you have big, blue bruises on both of your hips due to the many times you've fallen onto the hardly packed snow, but every muscle screams with pain as you drape a blanket over your body. needless to say, you decided to stay at home today instead of heading out with the others for another round.

"are you sure you don't wanna come along?" kika asks as she enters the room, her pretty pink sunglasses perched at the top of her nose. the pout on her lips almost makes you doubt staying in, but when you move to sit up more straight again, you know you've made the right decision.

you nod, giving her a weak smile. "yeah, sorry."

"but oscar promised to come along?"

you freeze, your cheeks growing red as you hear her words.

did she know? about your feelings for him? did the others already tell her about the incident in the cottage yesterday? did they really interpret the situation that way?

"w-what?"

"oh," she chuckles at your reaction. "i just meant that he was so bad yesterday, so i thought that seeing him fall over a couple of times would be worth the pain."

"we're gonna trick him into going down a black slope with us," says pierre who walks into the room, arms lacing around his girlfriend from behind. "we'll send some clips."

you let out a breath of relief as they leave the room. maybe they don't know. maybe your secret will stay secret for a little longer.

the group leaves in pairs or trios and you tell them all goodbye from your place underneath the many blankets. everyone has left by now except for oscar, which confounds you since the others seemed to have so many plans for him. your confusion only grows when he steps into the living room without any skiing gear on, just wearing an oversized, cozy hoodie and a pair of sweats.

"why aren't you out with the others?" you question, your eyebrows raised at him.

"well," he sighs, flopping down next to you on the couch. "i can't find my helmet." when you shoot him a doubting look, he raises his hands defensively. "what?"

"i don't believe it."

"you don't have to, but it's the truth."

"how do you even lose a helmet? it's so big?" you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. "i assumed you were used to keeping track of where your helmet is since if you don't have your helmet with you for races, then you can't race."

"i swear i put it on the drawer by the front door like half an hour ago. i don't understand what could've happened."

you have to give it to him; he is really doing his best to cover this up. you find it pretty obvious that he just doesn't want to ski because of what the others were planning to do to him. but maybe if kika and pierre hadn't spilled their plans already, you would've believed him.

"but hey," he says, bringing you out of your thoughts. "don't feel obligated to include me in whatever you were going to do here now that you finally have the house to yourself." he pushes himself off the couch, standing up and shooting you one last smile before turning to walk away. "i'll let you have some peace."

he takes a couple of steps towards the bedrooms, but then you get the idea. "oscar." he stops in his tracks, throwing a glance back at you. "i was planning on doing some baking, and…" you shuffle slightly in your seat. "it wouldn't hurt to have an extra helping hand."

"i'm a horrible baker, though."

"and i'm the best baker ever, so i guess we cancel each other out." you stand up from your seat, keeping the blanket wrapped around your shoulders as you make your way toward the kitchen. "let's go make some mediocre cookies!"

oscar shakes his head, grinning to himself as he follows behind you. this was definitely not what he had planned, but he sure is liking the way it's going.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 18th, 8:14pm

oscar had not been kidding when he said he sucked at baking.

he put in twice the needed amount of flour, and only half of the sugar. and as if that wasn't enough, of course the mistletoe had moved to the kitchen, making the whole situation quite uncomfortable as you both had to take strange routes while navigating through the kitchen to avoid it. not even your baking skills could save the cookies.

as an apology, oscar promised to buy some fancy gingerbread cookies tonight at the christmas market you'd all planned to go to in a nearby city. he was strongly set on going through with his promise, despite how many times you told him that it was alright and that they wouldn't taste as good as homemade ones anyway.

you've all been at the market for almost two hours now, but it feels like you've only gone about ten meters. your friends, mainly lando, george and alex, are stopping at every single shop and stand, making sure to check out all products and buying at least one thing in every store, no matter how long the line to the cash register is.

"lando-" you groan at the sight of the brit running into yet another store; this time, a shop filled with christmassy outfits for dogs. "he doesn't even have a pet…"

kika is grinning next to you, shaking her head. "he told me earlier today that he wanted to buy a present for roscoe if he got the chance," she says as most of the group joins lando. "makes more sense than when he bought that screwdriver thirty minutes ago just because it was green."

"the power of 'christmas colors', apparently," you hear oscar's voice from behind you, and you turn back to meet his eyes.

"well, i'm not surprised. just disappointed. and cold, and tired of standing still."

oscar points his head to the side, up the street. "i think i saw a stand a little further up that sells cookies, maybe they have some gingerbread ones."

you nod, a small smile entering your lips. "let's go check it out, then. kika, do you wanna come-"

you're cut off by the sound of pierre calling for his girlfriend, holding up a reindeer costume and blabbering on about how it would be perfect for her cousin's dog. "sorry guys," kika says before strutting off to her boyfriend.

you both shrug before walking down the street towards the stand oscar had spotted. the sugary scent of cookies meets your nose from far away, and your mouth waters at the mere thought of the sweets. when you arrive, a sweet old lady sitting behind the stand greets you and tells you all about the different cookies she's baked. gingerbread, sugar cookies with little candy canes, snowball cookies, and various traditional swiss cookies.

"would you like to have a taste, dears?" the lady asks, pointing her hand to a plate with samples. you and oscar take a gingerbread cookie each, popping it into your mouths.

"oh yeah, this is lovely," he says, looking like he's savoring every crumb.

"much better than ours," you answer, nudging his shoulder with yours. he gasps and places a hand on his chest, feigning offense.

you turn your attention back to the lady and telling her you'd love to buy a little box of cookies from her. oscar pays for them and she wraps the box in some pretty gift paper, handing it to you before you continue making your way down the street. the house walls and all trees are wrapped in christmas lights, some blinking in random colors and some with a soft glow of an elegant white. the streets are filled with people wearing santa hats, ugly christmas sweaters, and scarves so big half of their faces are covered. there's not a single frown in sight, the happiness and love so obvious you can almost see little hearts flowing above everyone's heads.

you glance into a couple of different stores as you stroll, stopping occasionally to check something out. when you reach a stand with different kinds of jewelry, something catches your eye: a golden necklace with a heart-shaped charm hanging from it. you carefully pick it up, your heart fluttering in your chest as you inspect it.

and when you look up at oscar from the necklace in your hands, he feels like the air is stolen from his lungs. your eyes are twinkling with happiness, outshining all lights in the entire christmas market. the excited smile on your lips is contagious, and suddenly, it's like the world around you has stopped and everyone else has disappeared. you're both just grinning at each other like two lovestruck fools, nothing in either of your minds other than the person in front of you. the sight of your rosy cheeks from the cold makes the butterflies in his stomach multiply by the second.

wow, he really is totally and fully whipped.

"really pretty," he finally gets out, unsure if he's talking about the necklace or the woman standing before him.

"pretty? it's gorgeous," you answer, eyes flickering back to the jewelry in your hand. "i adore it. how much is it?"

just as the guy in the booth is about to answer, you feel someone grab your free hand. "come on guys, they're closing down soon and we still have a bunch of shops to visit!" kika is pulling you along so fast you barely have time to put the necklace down.

lily notices the disappointment on your face and pats your shoulder. "we'll come back here sometime before christmas, don't worry."

lando shows you the christmas tree costume he bought as you wander down the market again, but oscar suddenly stops. "guys, i forgot my phone back at the cookie stand. keep walking, i'll catch up with you," he says, pointing behind him with his thumb and disappearing before anyone can say anything.

it's a good excuse, but you clearly see the outline of his phone in his back pocket as he hurries down the street.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 19th, 9:22pm

the days roll on with a gentle rhythm of shared glances and fleeting touches between you and oscar. unbeknownst to both of you, lando, ever the persistent wingman, continues his behind-the-scenes matchmaking efforts.

in some magical way, lando manages to get you and oscar paired up for pretty much anything. board game night? you and oscar just happen to get the exact role cards that make you teammates. time for some ornament decorating? you and oscar are the only ones who don't get a seat on the couch, having to sit on the floor together and share all your materials.

funnily enough, it never gets awkward between the two of you. even when you are left all alone, there is always something to talk about, some dumb thing lando has done that you can tease him about behind his back, or something you are curious about when it comes to his racing career so far. somehow, being with oscar started feeling comfortable, natural, unforced.

one specific night, alex comes up with the idea of playing card games, to which only a few of you are actually interested. some plan on going to bed early so they can hit the slopes first thing in the morning, while others just aren't in the mood. oscar said he would just finish wrapping some christmas presents and join you all later, and you catch yourself feeling disappointed that he's not on the couch next to you, helping you win (or taunting you to make you lose). it surprises you how much you're drawn to him, how it feels like something is missing when he isn't around, when you didn't feel this way just a few days ago.

you try to shake the feeling off, but it's still lingering even as you start playing with your friends. eventually, you excuse yourself to get a glass of water from the kitchen to take your mind off things. but-

just as you round the corner going into the kitchen, your head crashes into something hard. you shriek as you stumble, hands coming up to grab the person in front of you as you lose your balance, but a pair of hands wrap around your back, holding you up. when you look up, you're met with oscar's big brown eyes blinking down at you. "you okay there?"

you let out a relieved breath, nodding at him. "yeah, thanks to you. what were you doing coming around the corner that fast, though?"

he chuckles. "what were you doing not looking where you're going?"

"touché."

your hands are still holding on to the front of his hoodie, and you're about to let go of him and walk away when you notice something in the upper periphery of your vision. something is hanging above you. but, it can't be-

of course it is.

the mistletoe.

oscar looks up just as you do, jaw dropping slightly. "oh..."

"indeed..."

you both keep your vision pointed up, as if the mistletoe would disappear if you just keep on staring at it. oscar's hands slowly begin to slide off your back, and he's hoping you'll both just pretend like none of this ever happened. it would be the least awkward thing to do.

"maybe-" his breath hitches in his throat when you speak up. his gaze is on you again, but you're still looking at the plant. "maybe we should do it. just... for the christmas spirit, you know. i love christmas."

you don't even know what you're blabbering on about. you're trying to improvise a reason to kiss your brother's colleague that makes at least a little sense, but you're completely lost. you realize how dumb you sound, and you expect to see him staring at you like you actually are insane when you look back at him.

but what you don't know is that he thinks it's the best idea ever. he is just as into it as you are, if not more. he doesn't look at you like you're crazy; he's just dumbfounded, blinking at you as he tries to understand what's happening. did the girl he likes really just say they should kiss? because she loves christmas?

oscar gulps, but something in him gives him the courage to nod. "i mean," he starts, voice weak. "what's the harm? it's just... tradition."

"right. yeah, that's exactly what i was thinking."

the tension is higher than ever as your faces are already just inches apart. you aren't sure who should take the initiative and lean in, but before you can overthink it, you're both doing it subconsciously. your noses brush against each other briefly and a little giggle escapes past your lips, and this whole situation feels very familiar. this time, oscar can't hold back anymore, so he closes the gap and presses his mouth to yours.

the kiss is quick, not much longer than a peck, but something changes inside you. when you didn't know what it felt like to kiss oscar, you didn't think too much about it. but now that you have felt his lips on yours, you crave it.

he seems to feel the same way, because when you kiss him again, he's pressing against you instantly. your hands move from his chest to his shoulders as your lips move in sync, tilting your head to get a better angle. oscar's touch travels up and down your sides, fingers grazing the bare skin of your stomach when your sweater lifts.

oscar takes your bottom lip in between his teeth and you let out a hum, making him grin into the kiss. his tongue swipes between your lips before slipping into your mouth, exploring it for the first, but hopefully not last, time. you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer, already growing hot as his hands move down to your butt.

kissing oscar is so easy, so comfortable. it's like you've done it so many times before, like it's what you were made to do.

you're so relaxed and so focused on the kiss that you don't even hear lando's footsteps right next to you, nor his snicker from a few meters away as he picks up his phone to snap a couple of pictures. you don't even hear him strutting away to the living room, nor his loud proclamation to the group: mission complete.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 23rd, 8:35am

the rest of the days leading up to christmas consist of a lot of sneaking around.

the days are filled with secretive kisses when you're sure no one is watching, fleeting pecks or longer liplocks, hurriedly parting and acting like nothing happened when you hear approaching footsteps. they're filled with soft brushes as you pass each other in hallways, little squeezes of your waist or his arm when someone is around, conveying more than anyone could guess. and they're filled with giant, knowing smiles matching on your lips, with longing gazes and sly winks across the dinner table.

now, his hand is warm in yours despite the freezing temperatures of the air. when you said you forgot your mittens in the cabin, oscar had just smiled, taking off one of his own to give it to you. and to heat your other hand, he intertwined his fingers with yours, his thumb stroking the back of your hand as you walked.

you'd slipped out of the house before anyone else had woken up, wishing for a peaceful moment for yourselves. the two of you haven't really had time to properly talk ever since your moment under the mistletoe, and even though it wasn't outspoken, you both knew there were things to be discussed.

you're halfway around the lake when he finally touches on the subject. "so..." he starts, nudging your shoulder with his. "you like me, huh?"

you snicker. "i have for quite some time now, actually."

his hand squeezes yours. "tell me about it."

and when he asks, you tell.

you tell him about seeing him all those years ago, thinking that he was just a pretty face, a good driver, and not much else. you tell him about getting to know him more and more in the last two years and realizing that shit, he's so much more than that. you tell him about the butterflies, about the sneaky glances, about falling for him.

and then, he tells you his side.

he tells you about knowing of you from your first appearances in the f1 paddock, the curiosity in him growing for every picture of you and charles he saw. he tells you about wanting to approach you but not knowing how, not wanting to come off too strong or clingy. he tells you about how nothing has ever been more disappointing to him than charles's timing back in abu dhabi. then, he tells you about how his fingers had secretly been crossed all trip, hoping that lando's attempts to pair the two of you up wouldn't fall through.

you share giggles and smiles as you tell your stories, and it all feels so natural even though it's so new. and you think to yourself that maybe, this won't be so hard to get used to.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 23rd, 5:46pm

"how are things going with oscar?"

lily's voice makes your heart skip a beat. you had just walked into the kitchen to grab a gingerbread cookie, not expecting her to be doing the dishes this late in the evening – and especially not expecting her to ask you something like that. "what do you mean?" you ask back, trying to stay composed as you strut over to the cupboard, reaching into it for the box of cookies.

"are you going to be like... boyfriend and girlfriend now?"

the box slips out of your hands and crashes to the floor before you can catch it again. did you hear her correctly? your eyebrows shoot up and your mouth hangs open as you look at her again. she scoffs.

"oh please, the two of you aren't exactly sneaky," she says, looking back into the sink. "you know, lando took pictures of you under the mistletoe. and we all saw you coming back from your little trip to the lake earlier today."

"oh my god." you cover your face with your hands, letting out a groan. "oh my god. no way."

lily laughs, washing the last few plates under the tap before placing them on the side to drain. "don't worry, we were all in on it."

"and what does that mean?!"

"lando had a plan." of course he did. "we all agreed to help him out. except charles, he's still oblivious."

"what kind of plan?"

"well, just small things here and there, really." she wipes her hands on a towel before turning around and leaning against the counter. "hiding oscar's helmet so he'd have to stay here with you instead of skiing with us. walking really slowly in the market so you'd both get so tired of us that you'd stroll off alone. and the mistletoe, but that's obvious..."

as lily spills the details of lando's plan, you feel a mix of embarrassment and surprise, along with a hint of amusement. you're suddenly very aware of the collaboration that has taken place behind the scenes, and you take a deep breath as you slowly lower your hands from your face.

"so... lando really orchestrated all of this?" you exclaim, still trying to process the fact that your friends have been actively working to bring you and oscar closer together.

lily chuckles, nodding. "yes, and he's been loving every moment of it. we all figured you two needed a little push."

you shake your head in disbelief, a smile playing on your lips despite the initial shock. "what's the endgame here? is lando secretly a matchmaker or something?"

"he wishes," she says with a smirk. "i think he just enjoys playing cupid when he can." she shrugs, crossing her arms over her chest. "but hey, it worked out well, didn't it? you and oscar seem pretty cozy."

"yeah, i guess..." the mention of oscar brings a blush to your cheeks. "i just didn't expect to have a whole team of co-conspirators."

lily laughs, stepping forward to pat your shoulder. "it's all in good fun. besides, it's about time something happened between you two." you nod in agreement, smiling at her. "now, spill. how are you feeling about all of this? is he boyfriend material?"

you hesitate for a moment, contemplating your newfound dynamic with oscar. a smile tugs at the corners of your lips. "yeah, maybe. we're figuring it out, i guess. it's all been... surprisingly nice."

she grins, satisfied with your response. "well, then, i'd say lando's plan was a success." she backs away, walking towards the kitchen exit. "just enjoy it, okay? and don't be too mad at us. we just wanted to see you both happy."

you nod and watch as she leaves, still processing the directed events that have led up to this moment. as you're left alone, you can't help but smile to yourself at the thought of everything that's happened – and everything that's yet to come.

suddenly, for the first time in your life, you feel thankful for something lando has done. you'll have to remember to thank him later.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 24th, 10:23pm

just a few hours ago, charles was challenged to a snowball fight with the rest of the twitch quartet. and how could he ever say no to them?

for you to fall asleep before he got back would just be stupid, because there's no way he will be able to keep quiet when he eventually he crashes into the room post-fight. so instead, you sit against the headboard of your bed, a thick blanket draped over your body and a good book in your hands as you enjoy the tranquility of the last few moments of christmas eve.

there's a soft knock on the door, one so low you could've just as well missed it. "come in," you call out, looking up from your book as the door creaks open. surprise paints your face as oscar enters the room, his eyes sparkling with the thrill of carrying out a secret mission.

in his hands, oscar holds a beautifully wrapped box, adorned with a crimson bow. "merry christmas."

"oscar, what are you up to?" you ask, laughter dancing in your eyes.

"giving you your present." he sits at your feet, holding out the present to you.

you place your book beside you on the bed, accepting the gift with a curious smile. you unwrap the present, and as you remove the lid of the box and your eyes are met with a necklace, your breath hitches in your throat.

the heart-shaped pendant is familiar – it's the exact necklace you'd eyed in the christmas market. you look up at oscar, a myriad of emotions playing on your face. "i didn't forget my phone," he admits, a hint of vulnerability in his gaze. "i just really wanted to get it for you."

speechless, you delicately trace the edges of the pendant with your fingers. "oscar, i..."

"it's a christmas gift, but you can wear it whenever you want."

you hold the necklace up to him. "like now?"

he nods and takes it from you as you turn around, brushing away your hair so that he can secure the chain around your neck. when you turn back, you catch the glint of admiration in his eyes. "you look beautiful."

you hold the pendant between your thumb and pointer finger, a silent acknowledgment of the connection formed by the gift. "it's perfect, oscar. thank you." you tilt your head, smiling at him. "you're not getting your gift until tomorrow, though."

"just seeing you with this necklace is enough of a present for me. i don't need anything else."

‎‎ ‎‎‎

december 25th, 6:04pm

christmas day morning is for gift exchanges. you all sit around the tree in the living room, giving out presents and sharing the background stories behind the silly little things you've bought each other. you receive a ton of random objects that people had bought that day in the christmas market; objects they bought just to irritate you and oscar. now that you know, you find it quite funny – and seeing charles's confused face as you unwrapped a green screwdriver from lando is definitely one of your highlights of the day.

your present to oscar is, obviously, better planned than most other gifts. beneath the wrapper is a box titled "skiing survival kit" written in big, red letters. in it lies a pair of thick socks (with a note reading "to protect your feet from those horrible boots"), a bag of hot chocolate mix ("for moments when skiing feels too challenging; a little warmth to make everything better"), a bottle of peppermint-scented massaging oil ("you never know when you find yourself in need of a massage..."), and a handwritten letter about how you enjoyed your stay in the cottage much more than the actual skiing and a promise to stay in and warm his chair for him next time he's out "skiing".

then, midday rolls around. the chefs of the group, also known as the few people who don't burn everything they attempt to cook, take their time to make a good dinner. in the meantime, the rest of you prepare some games and competitions, including a trivia, a snow fort building competition, and a gingerbread house-decorating contest that ended in lando letting his competitiveness get the best of him. safe to say that no other gingerbread houses were still standing, other than lando's, meaning the brit won by default. his price: getting thrown in the snow in just his pyjamas.

and the evening? it's dedicated to a movie marathon, as per russell family traditions.

it has all been planned into the finest detail; the couch in the living room is decorated with blankets and pillows, nearly every bowl in the house is filled to the brim with snacks, and mattresses and pillows on the floor for those who don't fit on the couch. everyone was included of the vote of what movie you were going to see, though you had a feeling george had cheated when you were told the 'home alone' series won. especially since it's the one series he hasn't been able to stop talking about wanting to watch all trip.

you're settled on the edge of the couch, a blanket wrapped over your shoulders and your knees pulled up to your chest. you're laughing along with something kika has said from right next to you when you hear a beep from the kitchen, indicating that the last bag of popcorn was ready. you assumed lando would be getting up to fetch it, seeing as he was the one who insisted you needed one more bag, but when your eyes find him, he sits very contently and comfortably a few seats away. he looks back at you, eyebrows rising as you make eye contact.

"hey, you're the closest to the kitchen," he says, nodding his head in your direction. "go get them."

he isn't wrong, but he still makes no sense. "no way, norris."

he pouts. "please, be quick so we can start the movie already."

"you suck."

he sticks out his tongue at you but you've already walked off. when you return, a new bowl filled with popcorn in your arms, you aren't exactly surprised to see lando in the seat that used to be yours. you shoot him a glare, to which he answers, "i could barely see the tv from where i was sitting!"

"oh, but you think i'll be able to?" you scoff at the way he shrugs his shoulders, seemingly to say that it's now none of his business. and when you look at his old seat, you are even less surprised to see who's sitting right next to it.

oscar is looking up at you, confusion mixing into his features. he's been scrolling on his phone for the last few minutes and didn't notice when his teammate left him alone.

neither of you complain when you slip into lando's old spot, though. oscar immediately grabs the blanket in his lap and drapes it over you too. you shuffle closer to him as the movie turns on, the soft fabric of his pyjama pants brushing against yours. the bowl of popcorn is propped up on your lap, and when you reach into it to grab a handful, it touches something warm. you rip your eyes from the tv to see your hand brushing against oscar's. of course.

considering the other touches and kisses you've shared these last few days, it's not even a very intimate action. and yet, something about it leaves both of you giggling.

"so many clichés this trip, huh?" he says, eyes flickering between your hands and your face.

instead of answering, you grab his hand in yours. your fingers slip in between his easily, as they've done so many times these last few days, but you pull your hands underneath the blanket to keep them out of sight from everyone else.

it's a good movie, but it's easy for you to zone out when you feel oscar's hand squeeze yours. neither of you can really stay away from the other, inching closer as the movie progresses and stealing little cheek kisses when everyone is focused on the most exciting scenes. and when you start to grow a little tired, your head instinctively lands on his shoulder as you let out a little yawn. oscar desperately has to hold himself back from cooing at you, feeling so soft and prideful that you're leaning on him, and he settles for leaning his own head on you.

you both think you're being subtle, but everyone in the room understands what's going on. even charles, who has now been let in on what's happened between you and oscar after he walked in on lando telling alex about how cute the new couple in the house looked walking around the lake, can't take his eyes off the two of you. as your older brother, he feels like he should be doing something or saying something to protect you. he wonders what his role should be here – aren't brothers supposed to scare their sisters' boyfriends away?

but charles realizes that oscar isn't an enemy. in this moment, you look so peaceful, so content; like you've found the the long-lost puzzle piece to make you complete. how could he possibly interrupt that?

‎‎ ‎‎

december 25th, 11:28pm

charles is still fast asleep on the couch when you slip into oscar's room after the movie has ended, fingers intertwined and your laughter mixing as he pulls you along to his bed. his hands find your hips as he sits down on the edge of the bed, urging you to lower yourself onto his lap, and you happily oblige.

"look up," he says, and when you do, you're not surprised by what's hanging in the roof.

the mistletoe.

"oh," you start, looking back at him. last time you found yourself underneath the mistletoe with oscar, you had been more nervous than ever before. but this time, it isn't as scary. this time, you're able to shrug, a teasing grin forming on your lips. "i guess we should kiss, then. just for the christmas spirit, you know."

his lips are curved into a big smile. "oh, i do know." one of his hands comes up to tuck some hair behind your ear, cupping your cheek in his palm. "it's because you love christmas."

you can't hold back from giggling, and neither can he, both of you leaning in to seal your lips. your first encounter underneath the mistletoe was hesitant, but it feels like that was ages ago, in another lifetime. now, with his lips pressing against yours, it feels like it's all you've known.

he's so gentle with it, his kisses delicate and tender, and your heart flutters at the feeling. his hands land on your waist as your arms wrap around his neck, scooting in even closer. when your crotch brushes against him, he involuntarily lets out a moan into your mouth, and you stop for a moment to pull away. both your eyes and his are wide as you look at each other, and oscar doesn't know what to say. his mind is racing, not sure if you thought that was awkward or too soon or-

"that's so fucking hot," you say, and he finally exhales. you kiss him again, speaking against his lips. "wanna hear more."

he has no problems letting out more sounds when you keep up your actions, your hips rolling down on him rhythmically. his hands find the hem of your sweater and slip inside, instantly roaming your sides. his cold touch tickles, and when his fingers move along your waist, you can't help but giggle against his lips. he laughs along with you, but he only does it to match you. he's dumbfounded when you part from him and you grab his wrists to make him halt.

"you're too cold," you start, a bit breathless already. "it's-"

"are you really that ticklish?" he chuckles, fingers running up and down your sides again to test you, and his heart melts when you throw your head back, laughing. "oh come on, how am i supposed to do this if i can't touch you?"

"warm your fingers next time and we should be fine."

"next time, huh?" a combination of a smirk and a grin plays on his lips. "planning ahead?"

"well, it depends on how well you perform tonight." he sticks out his tongue at your taunting tone. "just take it off already, will you?"

oscar happily obliges, pulling the material off you before reaching for his own sweater, throwing them both onto the floor. his eyes stick to your chest, to the soft, red bed bra holding up your breasts, and he feels himself growing harder instantly, because this is so much better than he'd imagined. you can't exactly complain about what your eyes are met with, either; oscar's toned chest and his broad shoulders are basically calling out for you to come and press your lips to them. or sink your teeth in them. probably both.

he gives you a few quick kisses before his hands land on your hips and he flips you both around, laying you onto the covers. his lips meet the skin below your ear, and then travel down the side of your neck. he hears your breath hitch in your throat when he finds a spot you enjoy particularly much, making sure to memorize it for the future. and when his kisses trail even further down, they meet something hard and metallic. when he leans back, he realizes that you're wearing the necklace.

he didn't notice it until now, since he was too busy being mesmerized by your breasts earlier; but now, he can't take his eyes off it. the little heart charm rests just above your actual heart, and something about seeing it makes his heart flutter. the necklace he bought for you, the one that makes you think of him and only him. it's like you're already tagged as his.

"cute," he whispers to himself, placing a long kiss right on top of the heart. he can feel your real heart beating underneath his lips, fast but not really enough, and he can't wait to make you feel like it's pounding out of your chest.

he starts placing open-mouthed kisses down your stomach, his hands finding the waistband of your sweatpants.

"you okay with me taking these off?" he asks, parting from your skin to watch you nod your head. he pulls the material down your body, smiling when your underwear comes into sight. they're not a pair of lacy lingerie or victoria's secret-lookalikes, but just a regular pair of panties in a deep green color with little candy canes. his eyes flicker between your bra and your panties. "green and red, huh?"

"well, what can i say?" you smile. "i love christmas." he giggles, and so do you, as he leaves your pants somewhere on the floor before moving further down your body. when his hands near the fuzzy socks with little cartoon santas dressing your feet, you're quick to speak. "those stay on, though."

"oh, is that so?"

"gotta make sure you're not just doing this for that foot fetish you might or might not have." a laughter erupts from his chest. "i've had too much of that recently."

"well, i don't have one, so i don't mind you keeping them on." he moves up on the bed again, fingers reaching the hem of your underwear. "but i can take these off, right?"

"things would get kinda tricky otherwise, i'd say,” you tease, but oscar merely blinks up at you with raised eyebrows.

"tricky, yes. but not impossible."

you shake your head, a grin making its way onto your lips. "next time, oscar."

and there it is again. next time. the way you say it so casually, like there's no doubt in your mind that there will be another time, that you'll do all of this again.

yet again, instant boner.

your panties are off in a second, and he doesn't waste any time before pressing his lips to the inside of your thigh. his hand takes care of your other thigh, thumb brushing up and down your skin, as your lips travel closer and closer to where you want him the most.

you suck in a breath when you feel his warm breath against your core. his tongue meets your clit and your eyes flutter closed, one of your hands reaching down to entangle in his hair. as his tongue draws circles around your bud, one of his hands leaves your thigh, a finger swiping along your wet folds before pushing slowly into you. you don't know which sensation to focus on, both growing stronger and pushing you closer to your limit every passing second. when he's pumped you a couple of times, he adds another finger and then another, pushing deep into you. his fingers curling inside of you makes you pull on his hair even harder, your mind growing hazy and your breaths shorter.

"o-oscar," you let out, subconsciously buckling your hips towards him in hopes of creating more friction. "i'm so clos-"

you're cut off by the combination of a moan and a whine that leaves your lips when his tongue flicking your clit speeds up. "come for me, sweetheart," he tells you, his voice sending vibrations against your core.

your legs shake around him as you completely let go, feeling the climax wash over you just moments after his order. your free arm drapes over your face, covering your eyes in your arm as you try to catch your breath. oscar continues lapping you up, helping you ride it out, also licking his fingers clean before letting his hands caress your sides soothingly. he's unsure whether his fingers are warm enough now to not tickle you, or if you're just too busy coming down from your high to even realize you should feel ticklish, but he smiles at the thought nonetheless.

"everything alright up here?" oscar asks as he moves up to your face again, one of his hands prying the arm off your face. you slowly open your eyes, your hazy gaze meeting his loving one and you can't help but to cup his face in your hands. you pull him down to your lips, lazily lacing them together. he pulls away just enough for his lips to still brush yours when he speaks. "i'll take that as a yes."

you're quick to nod, but even quicker to connect his lips with yours again, not wanting to be apart for even a second.

your hands slide down his neck and the front of his body, loving the feeling of his strong muscles under your touch. your fingers reach down to the edge of his pajama pants, and you let out a chuckle when you notice the ever-growing tent in them. "don't laugh at me," he starts, biting down on your bottom lip as a warning. "you're so hot, how could i not get this hard?"

"oh, shut it," you say, feeling a blush creep onto your cheeks. "just take them off, will you?"

"as you wish."

as he shuffles off the bed and pulls off his own pants, plus his boxers along with them, you take the time to reach behind you and unclasp your bra, letting it slide down your arms and off the bed. when he reaches into the bedside table and pulls out a condom, you raise your eyebrows. "oh, so you were planning this?"

he shakes his head as he climbs on top of you again. "i was hoping, not expecting. those are two very different things." he removes the wrapper and throws it onto the table, rolling the condom onto himself. "do you need anything? or-"

"just you."

oscar presses his smile to yours, kissing you like he has no rush in the world, like he just wants to savor this moment with you. "well then," he says against your lips, nudging his dick against your entrance. "i have to give the lady what she wants, don't i?"

you can't control the whine that slips into his mouth when he pushes into you. you thought you were ready for him, but he's so big and he stretches you out so perfectly. he pauses once he's slipped entirely into you, his lips finding a spot below your ear as he allows you to get used to him. your pussy is throbbing already, still sensitive from just minutes ago, and the little involuntary clenches around him make oscar grow more and more eager.

when he finally starts moving, you drape your arms around his shoulders for stability. his thrusts are slow but deep, and yet you desperately want more of him. you hook a leg over his hip, the other following soon after, and you gasp at the way he bottoms you out completely. one of his hands comes up to squeeze your breast, thumb flicking over the nipple as his pace speeds up. the sounds you make and the way your legs squeeze him close makes him feel like he could cum anytime, but he tries to hold back because he needs to see you fall apart beneath him for the second time tonight.

"oscar..." you cry out when his free hand slides down your body, a finger coming in contact with your clit again.

"just a little more, love." his thrusts have grown sloppy and his figures on your bud aren't exactly perfect, but it's good enough for your orgasm to hit.

your back arches off the bed, your chest pressing into his as you nuzzle your face into the side of his neck to hide your moans. when your walls tighten around him, he reaches his high too, his body shaking as he rides it out. your heart is about ready to jump out of your chest when he collapses onto you, both of you trying to catch your breaths. "holy fuck," oscar starts, his breath warm on your skin. "that was amazing. you feel amazing." you try to gather energy to speak, fingers getting lost in his curls. "you taste amazing, too. better than any christmas dinner."

you give him a weak slap to his shoulder. "shush."

"it's true!" he pushes himself back a bit, mouth hanging in mock offense. "this was the best present i could've ever wished for."

"the necklace is higher on my list, though."

oscar pauses for a moment. "i'm not sure if i should feel proud or offended."

you snicker. "i was hoping for the latter," you tease, but regret it the moment oscar's hands find your waist, fingers dancing along it and tickling you yet again. the squeal you let out does nothing to halt his actions, and he doesn't even budge when you try to push him away by his shoulders. "i was kidding!"

"apologize. now."

his fingers still working their way on your skin make it almost impossible for you to speak again, but you do your best to take a deep breath. "i'm- i'm sorry! oscar- stop it!"

he finally stops, and you finally get to breathe. "i'll go get a wet towel," oscar says, pulling away from you and giving you one last glance. he almost doesn't leave the bed when he looks at you, though – he finds the sight almost too good to be true. your rosy cheeks, the dreamy smile on your lips, your hair spread out on the pillows. he's scared that if he leaves you, maybe the spell will be broken and he'll realize all of this has just been a dream. because that's just how this all feels: surreal.

but it is real, and he can't wait to have you like this in his bed again.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 26th, 12:56pm

packing up after a good trip is always a bittersweet affair. realizing that you have the real world waiting for you, your actual lives with responsibilities and obligations, and that you can't just stay in this fairytale forever – this moment was definitely not something you looked forward to.

you and charles need to get back to monaco to celebrate christmas with your other brothers and your mother, before he needs to go away for pre-season work again. you're meticulously folding up your clothes, zipping up bags and exchanging smiles as you reminisce on memories of the week.

but, things are different this time. you know that the magic of this trip isn't going to stay here – in one way or another, you'll bring some of it with you back to your real life.

oscar.

you've already made plans to meet up after new years, and even when he's busy with work, you know that you'll at least see him during every race weekend. neither of you are ever more than a flight, or a call, away, and you just can't wait to see where this all takes you.

"so... oscar, huh?" charles's voice breaks the silence, his eyes glancing in the direction of your open door that lets in the sound of oscar's voice from the living room.

"hm? what about him?" you reply, trying to hold back the smile threatening to adorn your lips when you hear his name.

charles cocks an eyebrow at you. "you and him... kind of obvious." he gazes towards your bed. "besides, your bed is made. you didn't sleep here last night."

"well, i-" you start, but charles interrupts with a knowing chuckle.

"relax, i'm not going to be a police. just..." he shows off a sweet smile. "enjoy it."

with a nod and a shared understanding, you both continue packing, an unspoken acknowledgment hanging in the air. the group gathers to bid you farewell by the front door, and gratitude fills your heart as you exchange goodbyes with your friends. you grow especially soft when lando pulls you into a hug, a cheeky grin on his lips. "thank you," you whisper, giving his cheek a quick peck to really convey how much you appreciate everything he's done this holiday. he just squeezes you back, telling you not to worry about it.

finally, as you turn to say your farewell to oscar, the atmosphere shifts and the group watches with amused anticipation. "until next time," you say, your eyes holding a promise that transcends the physical distance.

"until next time," he repeats, smiling as you engulf him in a tight hug.

you pull away just enough for your ear to brush against his ear, your voice low. "charles knows, by the way."

"w-what?" his eyes widen for a moment, flickering between you and your brother – but then realization dawns. "well, in that case..."

before you can react, oscar pulls you closer again. he presses a goodbye-kiss on your lips, right there in front of everyone, and the group erupts into cheers.

and the loudest of them all? lando, of course. "if i'm not the best man at your wedding, i'll never forgive you guys."

#oscar piastri #f1 #formula one #formula 1 #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x yn #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri fanfic #f1 fluff #f1 smut #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x yn #f1 x y/n #f1 fanfic #mclaren #oscar piastri fic #Spotify

[munsonkitten]

It starts small.

Steve buys Eddie a handful of cassettes after the whole Upside Down business. Drops them unceremoniously in Eddie’s lap while Eddie’s laid up in the hospital. Eddie pulls them all out of the plastic bag and lays them out in his lap while Steve stands a few feet away, arms crossed protectively over his torn up middle.

“I got things on your vest,” Steve says as Eddie takes in the titles. “I figured everything in your room’s probably gone now, but I still have your vest, and I’ll — I’ll give it back. When you get out of here. It’s safe in my room. But, just — yeah, the tapes are things you have on it.”

Dio’s The Last in Line, Motorhead’s Ace of Spades, Metallica’s Ride the Lightning, Judas Priest’s Screaming for Vengeance, and WASP’s self-titled album.

“I almost bought you more, but I wasn’t sure what else, and I don’t know much about your music, so I just got those. I was going to bring you my Walkman, but I couldn’t find it,” Steve says. “I think one of the kids borrowed it and never gave it back, actually.”

Eddie still hasn’t said anything yet. He’s still taking in the gift in his lap, can’t even comprehend that Steve wanted to give him more.

“Uh,” Eddie says, trying to get his brain working again. “Yeah. Man. Fuck, dude. Thanks. Seriously. Don’t worry about the Walkman, really. This is nice, Harrington.”

“Yeah, no problem, Munson,” Steve says softly. He goes and sits in one of the chairs in Eddie’s hospital room, and stays there until the kids come running from Max’s overcrowded room to ask for a ride home.

Eddie lays there with his tapes spread out over his lap, and he finds himself smiling down at them. He doesn’t even have anything to listen to them on, but he thinks it might be the most thoughtful gift he’s ever gotten from anyone other than Wayne.

It’s nice, he thinks, that he might be becoming friends with Steve Harrington. It’s nice, he thinks, that even when they’re no longer fighting for their lives, Steve might want to stick around.

He didn’t expect that.

Eddie’s in the hospital for two weeks, and Steve stops by almost every day. He sits for a while, sometimes they talk, sometimes they don’t. Sometimes Eddie wakes up and sees Steve sleeping in one of the uncomfortable hospital chairs. He doesn’t wake him, just smiles to himself because Steve’s tired, but he doesn’t want Eddie to be alone.

It’s been a while since Eddie’s had a friend the same age as him. Jeff and Grant are both two years younger than him, Gareth is four years, and Henderson, Wheeler, and Sinclair are all five or six years younger. He has friends, but Steve feels different, just a few months younger but already graduated. In a way, it makes Eddie feel younger, still being in high school and all.

He doesn’t really think that should matter, but it kind of does. All his younger friends look up to him, he’s always the one making plans and making sure everyone sticks to them, he’s the one in charge of it all — the older one. But when Steve’s around — Steve, with his real job, and high school diploma, and his nice car, and the brood of children he chases after, Steve, who’s an adult in all the ways Eddie himself feels like he’s not — Eddie feels like he can sit back and let someone else do all of that.

When Steve’s around, it feels like he has someone to care for him and look out for him the way he’s done for the others.

It starts to ease everything he’s carried for so long.

* * *

The next time Steve buys something for Eddie, it’s even smaller.

In fact, it’s so small that Eddie doesn’t even notice it at first because Steve was actually really sneaky about it. Eddie would almost find it cute, if he were allowed to think about Steve that way. He’s not, to be clear. It goes against his Munson Doctrine to have crushes on the jocks, rich kids, and straight boys, of which Steve is all three, but if he wasn’t, then yeah, Eddie would find it cute that Steve is sneaking him tiny gifts when he isn’t looking.

There’s a keychain on his van keys that he certainly didn’t get for himself. He notices it one day during a get together at Harrington’s house. Eddie just got out of the hospital a few days ago, and everyone insisted on throwing a party. Now kids are running around Steve’s backyard, yelling and hollering and trying not to fall in the freezing cold pool. It’s still too early in the spring to swim.

Even Max, barely out of the hospital herself, is being wheeled around in her wheelchair by nothing more than El’s mind powers.

It’s kind of fucking insane, to be honest.

But Eddie needs to go out to his car to get his pain meds because he’s really starting to feel the length of the day in his aching joints and healing wounds, so he grabs his keys off Steve’s counter where he left them, and that’s when he sees it.

A tiny metal bat dangling from his keys.

He knows it was Steve because Steve was the only one in the house when he got here and set his stuff down in the kitchen, and no one else has gone inside since Eddie found his way to the backyard, so of course it was Steve.

Eddie doesn’t mention it, just smiles to himself and runs his fingers over the pointed wings.

He sees Steve looking at him when he comes back into the kitchen. Eddie raises his hand and shakes his pill bottle at him, and without another word, Steve goes to the cupboard to get a glass that he fills with water.

Eddie sets his keys back down on the kitchen counter as Steve slides the glass of water over to him. Steve nods at the keys, and Eddie grins at him.

“Thank you,” Eddie says.

“I have a matching one,” Steve says, turning back toward the sink to look out the window above it. “Just, you know, because…”

He gestures at his torso, and then over at Eddie, and Eddie nods. He gets it.

It makes him feel a little bit closer to Steve. Even if Eddie isn’t allowed to crush on him, he’s happy to have someone who gets him. Who understands what he went through, and feels similar pain.

It’s like Steve’s saying You’re with me now, we’re connected, and you’re not getting rid of me.

Read on AO3

#eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve/eddie #steddie fic #my fics #stranger things

[tootiecakes234]

Katsuki’s birthday

“Katsuki Bakugo, if your ass isn’t ready in the next 15 minutes, you’re gonna be sleeping at Eijirou’s house the rest of the week cuz you WONT be allowed in this house!” You tell him with pointed look.

“I told you, you shitty woman, that I don’t want to go to some stupid birthday brunch. I want to stay home and I want YOU to cook for me while I do nothing. It’s my fucking birthday.” He shouts back.

“But that’s what we did last year! And the year before that!” You try reasoning with him.

“Yeah it’s called tradition” he says even as he stands up and starts walking over to his closet.

“Well, love muffin, traditions were meant to be broken.” You go up to him and place a kiss on his cheek.

“What the hell ever. I’m not paying for a damn thing and I’m ordering the most expensive thing they have on this stupid menu. Don’t forget your purse.” He grumbles.

You’re dressed in a nice spring dress that’s a flower pattern and all flowy. You look so adorable and then you see Katsuki and hot damn! You forget how good this man looks when he’s not in a black t shirt and joggers. Not that he doesn’t look hot as hell in that but he looks edible right now all dressed up.

“Damn big man, you got a lady. If you do, I bet I’d do stuff with you that she wouldn’t dare.” Your voice oozes cheekiness.

“My girlfriend would put your loser ass to shame! Just last night she did this thing in bed-“

You clamp your hand over his mouth. “Ok ok I get it.” You can feel his smirk against your palm. “You always take stuff to far.”

“I always finish the shit you start.” He moves your hand and wraps his arms around your waist. “I like this dress by the way. The only thing getting me through this brunch is gonna be knowing I get to take it off later.”

He bends down and presses his lips to you.

You have to pull yourself away and grab his hand to pull him behind you. “Let’s go before we are late”

“You don’t think those shitty ass friends of yours are gonna be late too? I’ve never seen them be on time for a goddamn thing”

When you guys get to the car, you walk to the passenger side and open the door for him.

“My king” and you do a little bow.

“You’re so fucking insufferable”

The smile on your face doesn’t disappear as you climb into the drivers seat.

“Where is this place anyway?” He questions as your pull off.

“On the outskirts of town. It’s a place Eiji found a while ago. He said it’s 10/10”

“Oh fuck, are we really listening to recommendations from that red head idiot?? He would eat toast smeared with dirt if you covered it in protein powder.”

“ ‘Suki he’s not that bad.”

“Tch”

Eventually you pull up the place and you can see Katsuki looking at you like you’ve lost your mind.

“Did you dumb ass get lost? This is not a restaurant.”

“Surprise!!! It’s an adventure park! They have paintball, laser tag and zip lines and stuff. They also serve food but it’s like snack type things but I though that’d hold us over til we get home so I can cook.”

You are wearing the biggest grin and your excitement it’s practically bouncing off of you.

“Oh and I brought clothes for you to change in to. I didn’t wanna ruin the surprise by telling you to dress casual….. do you like it??” You ask him.

“You’re proud of yourself aren’t you?”

“Very”

“I…. Fucking love it. Are those tools still coming cuz I’ve got ass to kick.”

You bound over the seat and hug him. “Yep they are probably already inside. I told Mina to get here early to check us in.”

He slides his hand over your face and gives you a small smile before you places a kiss on your forehead.

“You did real good baby. Thank you”

“You’re welcome hot stuff. Not let’s get in there and give those guys a taste of Pro Hero Dynamight!”

“Hell yeah!”

This asshole won every game you guys played except for laser tag and thats only cuz you guys cheated! But he deserved it, he was getting too cocky for his own good.

BUT by the end of the night, he had you feeling like the real winner🤭

Katsuki Bakugo Masterlist

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