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#he’s got so many belts and things on him
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Appleradio idea that I have no fuck all idea if I am going to do anything with because fuck time
Basically, the idea is that Lilith does not exist. Lucifer did still "tempted" Adam and Eve so he got punished to hell and all of that. But he gets lonely as fuck and, with a bit of nagging from Asmodeous to find a suitable partner to rule hell with, he decides to establish this rule: If there is ever a sinner that embodies sin to the point that he manages to enslave hundreds of souls, then that is going to be his future spouse. Mostly as the only way to finally shut up Asmodeous so he can stop asking him and setting him in dates that literally never turn out alright. The issue is that this was some stupid idea that he had when he was drunk out of his mind that neither he or Asmodeous ever told anyone about, so Lucifer goes many, many years completely alone until one day, hey, someone did it! Someone in hell was so fucking desperate for control and power, so fucking greedy,, that they actually managed to get all those souls under his belt and therefore get immediately teleported to Lucifer's castle, where the king himself was just on his duckie slippers and a robe watching his telenovelas, about to eat his ice cream, when a sinner all dress in red just fucking appears on his livingroom. So Lucifer, obviously, at first loses his fucking shit because this was literally never supposed to happen. He had completely forgotten all about it! Asmodeous is no fucking help either because he goes "listen, he is not that bad looking, give it a try at least" And Alastor was shocked because 1. he didn't know about that fucking rule, 2. kinda really fucking proud with himsefl for being the first sinner to reaching those numbers, 3. the king of hell had been in isolation since before he ever died so he quite literally had no idea how he looked like before and 4. now he is on a arrenged marriage. Maybe even a ring is already on his finger that matches that of Lucifer.
Lucifer is all "I am so sorry, this was a mistake, this should have never happened. You don't have to do anything, this was just a stupid idea I had many years ago and it was a bad one. I will just undue this stuff and you can get back to doing the evil shit you were doing", but then Alastor thinks wait a fucking minute, I can actually rule hell now? And the only thing I have to do is to be with this guy? Well, that doesn't seem that bad at all! Don't rush so much, your highness. You heard your friend, we could still give it a try. So that was the plan originally, right? Just another ploy for power, but the more Alastor hangs around Lucifer feelings start developing and there has to be fluff because I said so. Add some drama about Lucifer not being sure if Alastor does actually care for him or it's just the tittle and bam, happy wedding with future Charlie with two dads.
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just-jordie-things · 14 hours
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[part two] we weren’t just friends - okkotsu yuuta
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word count: 11k warnings: swearing, drinking (but it’s legal!), mentions of masturbating summary: two idiots that are bad at confrontation and don’t want things to be awkward somehow make things awkward anyways. more info: college!au, aged up characters, roommates!au, childhood friends, n*oya makes an appearance in this part, soft yuuta taking care of drunk reader
part two: “i’m not ready, eyes heavy now” ___
[mai] : do you want me to come kidnap you? just say we have plans
[maki] : you don’t need to kidnap her.  she’s a big girl.  She can handle talking about her feelings.  can’t you, (y/n)?
[(y/n)] : no i don’t think i can :’( pls come rescue me, idk what to do.
[mai] : maki where are the keys i’m going over there
[maki] : the fuck you are, stay away from my car.
[maki] : i say this with love, (y/n).  get out of bed and just talk to him.  it’s not like you boned.  A little kissing never hurt anyone.  your friendship is stronger than that, don’t you think? 
[(y/n)] : …it was a lot of kissing…
[mai] : did he get a boner? 
[maki] : you’ve been friends a long time.  and he kissed you back, didn’t he? he probably enjoyed it.
[(y/n)] : i think he enjoyed it… idk… i’m rlly embarrassed about it.
[mai] : if he got a boner he enjoyed it.
[maki] : ur being gross :p
[(y/n)] : but what if he just got carried away and it didn’t mean anything and he’s upset with me? 
[maki] : did he say he was upset with you? 
[(y/n)] : … no.
[mai] : he’s probs pent up now.  you should seduce him again.
[maki] : then all this talk is pointless.  go TALK to him and then if it’s bad we’ll come swoop you up and take you out for the day.  deal? 
[(y/n)] : bed is comfy… and safe…
[mai] : and if we don’t hear from u we’ll assume u seduced him again
[maki] : you got this :)
(y/n) sighed as she turned off her phone, dropping it onto her mattress as she glared up at her ceiling.  The light from the sun had long since poured in through the window, having woken her up hours ago.  She wasn’t surprised to see so many texts in her groupchat with the Zen’in twins after Toge blabbed about what he thought he saw when he returned to the apartment late last night.
Normally she would’ve ignored their pestering and turned down any assumptions they may have made.  But she needed advice from her closest friends on what to do now.  She had yet to leave the safety of her bedroom, knowing Yuuta would be awake and going about his morning routine.  Maybe it was silly to be afraid of running into him, but her shame kept her shackled to the bed.
Maki was right, it wasn’t fair to assume how Yuuta would behave today.  It was a discredit to the years of friendship under their belts.  But then again, making out in a sudden moment of weakness was a blunder on their friendship, too.
Dramatically, she rolled over, planting her face in her pillow and groaning out her frustrations.
When she finally made an appearance, Yuuta’s head shot up from the kitchen table where he’d set up his things to spend the day working on an essay he should’ve started yesterday.  Just like yesterday, his focus shifted completely as soon as her door creaked open and she stepped out.
Her eyes widened a bit when they landed on him, as if she was surprised to see him there at all.  He gave her a small smile, hoping to ease any nerves she likely had coming into the morning.
“Mornin’,” He hummed, his gaze fixed on her as she lingered in her doorway, seemingly unsure about leaving her room at all.  “Made a pot of coffee if you need some” 
Yes, caffeine, her body pleaded, and she nodded at him gratefully as she made her way to the kitchen.  Even as she grabbed her usual mug out of the cupboard and poured a generous amount of coffee into it, she could feel his eyes on her back.
He watches as she shuffles about the kitchen, pouring in her cream and sugar before testing the drink, then repeating the cream and sugar.  He smiles to himself as this happens a few more times.  She’s not happy with it until it’s color is milky brown, and it surely no longer tastes like coffee at all.
“Thank you” She hums when she takes a longer drink, smiling as it finally tastes perfect.
She turns to him, leaning against the counter and holding her mug carefully in both hands.  He gives her a nod, his eyes flickering over her, as though looking for any sign of discontent.  He finds none.
“Yeah,” He replies quietly.  “You sleep alright?” 
(y/n) nods back.  “You?” 
He shrugs a shoulder, his head moving from side to side with lack of a real answer.  Her lips pull into an awkward frown, not knowing what to say now.
She hates that she finds it so hard to speak to him.  It had never been like this between them before.  They’d never tiptoed around each other, conversation always came naturally.  And when they were quiet, the silence was comfortable.
The silence now feels so heavy that her chest aches.
She hates that she’s the reason for the nervous energy buzzing in the air, making her skin prick with goosebumps and her heart beat erratically.
“I, uh, I think I’m gonna go out with the twins later” She forces herself to speak, saying the first thing that comes to mind.  Even though she hadn’t explicitly made plans with the Zen’ins, she was sure they’d do her this favor.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” She sighs, sounding less convincing by the second.  “Probably for drinks, I could really use a drink” She mumbles the last part.
Yuuta chuckles, his smile cracking a little further as his eyes catch the clock on the oven behind her, before looking at her again.
“Not even ten in the mornin’,” He tells her, tilting his head.  “Already need to forget today?”
Her face flushes and she tilts her head to stare down at her cup of coffee.
“That’s alright,” Yuuta brushes off her nervousness as best he could.  He just wanted her to be at ease, even if that meant pretending nothing happened between them.  “I’ve got an essay to keep me company today anyways,” He says, nodding to the scattered textbooks and notebooks before him.  “But you’ll let me know if you need a ride, or anything?”
She nods back at him, the smile on her face a little more genuine this time.
“Yeah, I will” She says, and finally makes her way out of the kitchen.
She goes to greet their fish good morning, cooing softly to the thing as it swims about it’s tank excitedly.  She gives into it’s begging, sprinkling in the smallest amount of fish flakes as she could, and cheering quietly as he strikes at the little clump of food at the surface of the water.  Yuuta tries not to stare as she murmurs and coos to the fish as though it were any other pet, a kitten, or a hamster.  But he can’t help the lurch in his heart watching her sweet talk the betta that only had the capacity to care about being hungry.  The scene truly was a testament to her character.
She finished her coffee and went about her normal routine without much else to say to him.  Yuuta tried not to mind.  He tried to focus on his essay and give her space to settle back into what felt normal.  He just hoped she’d relax sooner than later.  He’d hate to have her feel uncomfortable in her own home.
Shortly after she’d gotten in the shower, he lost focus on his project again and reached for his phone.
[yuuta] : i feel like a total fucking idiot.  i think i messed everything up.
[toge] : looked like u guys enjoyed urselves to me ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
[yuuta] : so not what i meant. [yuuta] : she can barely talk to me.  she only just got out of bed.  she seemed so uncomfortable.
[toge] : did she seem mad? maybe she just didn’t know what to say.  it is kinda awkward
[yuuta] : i don’t think she’s mad.  I think she just regrets it
[toge] : did u bring it up?
[yuuta] : no, i don’t know how
[toge] : well did u try ‘hey we made out and i liked it, what are we?’
[yuuta] : ._.
[toge] : ok taking that as a no. [toge] : but starting w that is prlly a good idea
[yuuta] : but what if that makes it worse [yuuta] : what if she doesn’t want anything more and it was just like a one time thing yk [yuuta] : we both had a bit to drink. [yuuta] : i think i’m going to have a panic attack.
[toge] : ok slow down for a sec [toge] : you’re jumping to conclusions, remember? you can’t decide what she’s thinking bcuz you haven’t talked about it. [toge] : rn what you have control over is what you want to do about it.  So for now, just try to focus on that. [toge] : and ur essay for econ.  actually you should put most of your focus on that.
[yuuta] : ok ur right.  i’m gonna work on that now. [yuuta] : thank you.  I’ll talk to you about it later.
[toge] : :) ___
Yuuta had never felt the menacing glare of the Zen’in twins fixed on him before.  When he opens the door to find them in the hallway, clearly perturbed to be greeted by him rather than the girl they were here to escort for the evening, he felt a cold sweat form on the back of his neck.
“Hey guys-” 
“Where’s (y/n)?” Maki pushed in first, side stepping Yuuta completely and bee-lining for (y/n’s) bedroom door, which had been shut since she’d been getting ready to go out with them.
Mai gave him a sympathetic smile, and he stepped aside to let her in.
“She’s a bit on edge, don’t worry about her,” She explained her sister’s antics, something she’d grown used to doing.  “But how are you doing?” 
The simple question didn’t hold it’s usual casual tone.  Mai looked genuinely curious to know his answer.  In fact, it looked like she was taking pity on him as her brows drew together in concern.
“Uh- fine.  I’m fine,” Yuuta stammered over his answer, and quickly made his way towards the kitchen, looking for something to busy himself with.  Getting interrogated by Maki and Mai was the last thing his nerves needed right now.
Even if Maki had already barged into (y/n’s) room and shut the door behind her with a slam.  He’d perked up at the ruckus, watching the door worriedly, but it remained shut, and he didn’t hear hollering from inside, so he figured all was fine between the two, and Maki was just up to her usual untamed behavior.  Mai chuckled to herself.
“Did you want a glass of water? Or something?” Yuuta asked, already filling a cup at the sink.
“Oh no, I’m alright,” Mai shook her head and took a seat at the kitchen table.  Her eyes scan over the messy stacks of books and the long extension cord that reaches across the whole room to keep his laptop alive while he works.  “You’ve been busy, hm?”
Yuuta chokes, whirling around, not realizing she’d been commenting on his mess at the table.  He instantly flushes, especially when Mai raises a brow and her lips curl into a smirk at his reaction.
“Oh- that- yeah,” He coughs to clear the hitch in his throat, hitting his fist to his chest a few times for good measure.  “I have an essay that’s due in a week” He explains quietly, certain that she didn’t actually care what he was working on.
Mai only nods, changing the subject before he could bore her with the specifics of the assignment.
“So, what’re your thoughts on the whole thing?” 
Yuuta blinks, unsure of what she was really asking.  Mai tilts her head at him, knowing he was a smart enough guy that he could figure it out on his own.
“I don’t know…” He sighs, bringing a hand up to the back of his neck.  “I don’t know what the right thing to do is…” 
Mai giggles cutely behind her fingers, as if she’d been watching two kittens playing with a ball of yarn, rather than watch a grown man struggle with the feelings he’d carried for years.  Feelings so strong everyone around him knew damn well where his heart lied.  It was a cruel laugh, but she couldn’t help it.  Yuuta could be so pitifully hilarious sometimes.
“Sorry,” Her apology is empty when he furrows his brow at her.  “It’s just… I owe Toge money for this, you know,” 
Yuuta’s gawking now, frozen and silent as he waits for further explanation.  Had everyone been in on something he hadn’t known about? Was this all some elaborate prank on him?
“I always thought you’d make the first move.  Guess Toge knew best this time” 
“Wait, you actually bet on- he bet against me?” Yuuta stammered.  Mai smiled sweetly.
“Everyone bet against you,” She told him.  “Well, everyone but me,” She corrected right away.  “Personally, I thought it’d be a whole love confession thing, you know? Like in the movies? I always thought you were the kind of guy that just wouldn’t be able to hold it in anymore.  After last night I was sure that if (y/n/n) had a little push it’d be enough for you to do something.  But it sounds like she initiated, no?” 
Yuuta’s head was spinning taking in all of this information at once.  Everyone knew? His closest friends, and they bet against him? His face felt hot with embarrassment, and just when he thought this whole thing couldn’t get worse, too.  Damn them all for being such a close knit group of friends that nothing was private anymore.
“I… I guess…” He answered the question quietly, unsurely.  Truthfully Yuuta wasn’t sure who exactly was at fault for the situation.  (y/n) might have brought up the subject, but he was the one who kissed first, wasn’t he? “So… she told you all of it?” He asked.
Mai smirked.
“Sorry, can’t break the girl code,” She says innocently.  Yuuta rolls his eyes.  Bullshit.  She just wanted to yank his chain.  “But you’re my friend too,” She reminds him.  “So I was just curious what you thought about all this” 
Their banter was cut short by (y/n’s) door swinging open, Maki’s voice carrying out into the hall as she exited, nodding for her sister to get up to head out.
(y/n) followed shortly after, a pair of heels in one hand, her other hand occupied trying to secure a bracelet on her wrist.  With her focus on awkwardly trying to maneuver the clasp with one free hand, Yuuta was given enough time to stare at her properly.
She’d spent a lot of time holed up in her room, supposedly getting ready, and now he could see just the amount of effort she’d put into doing so.  Her hair was done up, styled in perfect soft waves that bounced when she moved, and fell around her shoulders.  A simple but pretty dress hung from tiny straps at her shoulders and fell just above her knees.  It was her favorite color and one that complimented her very well.  Yuuta had been there when she’d found it and claimed it was an ‘impulse buy’, but she’d loved it thoroughly and had worn it regularly.  He stared in awe while she struggled with the jewelry and cursed under her breath.
It took him a minute to come back to reality, blinking quickly as if he needed to refocus, before approaching her with an outstretched hand and a small smile.  She understood what he was offering from the small action.  It wasn’t the first time she’d struggled to put on her own jewelry, and she’d often turned to him for help with the dainty clasps.
Sheepishly, (y/n) placed the charm bracelet in the palm of his hand, before holding her wrist out to him.  With how close she is he can smell the flowery perfume she’d just applied before coming out of her room.  It was sweet and pretty and he swore it flooded his senses like THC, lifting him right off the floor and into the clouds.
“Thank you” She murmurs.
She watches as he carefully lifts the jewelry from both ends, securing the claw clasp between his thumb and index finger gently.  A smile lifted at the corners of his lips as the little charms dangled off the silver chain, and he recognized the bracelet.
It was a gift from him.  For the first birthday she’d celebrated since moving in together.  It wasn’t the most extravagant thing, there were no jewels, the chain was made of silver rather than rose gold or something more expensive and romantic.  The charms were a mismatched set of stars and moons, some varying in color, but most of them the same silver as the chain they dangled from.  When he’d come across it, Yuuta thought he’d struck gold.  It had been the perfect gift.  He’d seen it in the window at a jewelry store he’d never looked at twice before, but somehow this little bracelet called to him and he was waltzing right inside and purchasing it at the counter not five minutes later.  
The clerk placed it in a little velvet box, which Yuuta took home and carefully wrapped a silky white ribbon around.  It had taken some practice to tie the bow just right, but he’d been very proud of his craftsmanship.  In the days leading up to her birthday, he was sure he was going to ruin the surprise, he was so giddy with excitement.
Then when the day came, and they were all out with their friends for dinner, he was a wreck.  Everyone else’s gifts were so different from his.  Maki had given her a nice leather jacket, Mai had given her a handle of her favorite rum, and Toge had given her a new game for their switch.  When all that was left was the small gift bag holding Yuuta’s gift, he was chugging his drink as she reached into it with a grin.
The table went silent when she pulled out a tell-tale velvet box, a perfect silk bow tied around it.  Yuuta avoided her gaze when her wide eyes turned to him.  He’d missed the way her cheeks had warmed up, too embarrassed by the stares from the rest of their friends.  ‘Jewelry?’ she’d asked sweetly, before carefully untying the ribbon and propping open the box.  She’d gasped, setting the box down carefully before lifting the bracelet from it, admiring each mismatched charm dangling from it.
Her eyes lit up as she turned to him, holding it out for him with one hand, the other wrist on display as she bounced in her seat, prompting him to put it on her.  That was the first of many times Yuuta had clasped the gift carefully around her wrist.  Conversation between the twins and Toge picked up again as the pair shared a sweet, private moment.  Yuuta wasn’t sure why it was so intimate to do such a simple favor for his friend, but his skin burned where it grazed hers as he adjusted the new jewelry for her.
‘It’s beautiful,’ She’d whispered softly, her eyes fond as they gazed into his.  ‘I love it so much, thank you, Yuuta’.
As he hooked the claw through the usual hoop she always wore it at, the perfect length to keep it secure on her wrist but still let the little stars loosely dangle, Yuuta couldn’t help but think about that first time he’d put it on for her.
“There,” He hummed when it hung perfectly around her wrist.  “You’re all set now” 
His eyes lingered on the bracelet and it’s meaning that he’d never quite worked up the courage to tell her about, before flickering to meet her soft expression.  There was something in her eyes that told him she was trying to say something, but she didn’t budge on it.  Her lips curved into a small smile as she nodded at him in gratitude.
“So we’re ready?” Maki cleared her throat, drawing both of their attention over to where she had her arms crossed and a brow raised.  
(y/n) was quick to shuffle away from Yuuta, sliding on her heels and making sure the straps were adjusted just right at her ankles before giving Maki a wide smile.
“Ready!” 
She leaves with a wave and a sweet call of good luck on finishing his essay.  Yuuta lingers at the door, even long after the three have left for the night.  The creeping feeling that he’s an idiot plaguing his mind again.
It wasn’t like he could tell her not to go, that wasn’t fair.  It also didn’t seem right to tag along, he wasn’t a total moron after all, he knew that she needed some space tonight with her girlfriends to collect herself and get over what happened between them.
But god, he just hoped she wasn’t going to get over it by finding someone else to distract her from it. ___
Rather than go to the usual bar that the group would spend free evenings at, Maki and Mai had promised an all new experience for the night.  Mai talked up the place animatedly, all bright eyes and movements of her perfectly manicured hands, while Maki drove and chastised her sister for being such an annoying passenger.
The longer (y/n) spent around them, the more her nerves began to settle and she finally gave in to the excitement of going out for the night.  It had been a while since they’d done something just the three of them.  Girl time was hard to come by, and often only happened in their groupchat.  Toge and Yuuta had a way of wiggling into their plans, not that they really complained about it.  It was nice to have a close and comfortable group of friends.
But right now, (y/n) needed two things.  One, time with her favorite twins that always scored free drinks wherever they went.  And two, the free drinks that the pair were currently scoring as they chatted up the bartender.  
(y/n) watched in amusement as Maki slid her glasses onto the top of her head pulling her hair away from her pretty face, and Mai leaned over the bar on her elbows, her low cut top doing all the work for her even while she undoubtedly flirted with the tattooed man behind the bar.  The high top table (y/n) sat at with all of their purses- it wasn’t like the Zen’ins needed their wallets- was far enough away that she couldn’t hear the conversation happening, but she recognized the sweet, alluring smile on Mai’s red painted lips.  It was a flirty look, and held absolutely no bite behind the bark.  It was just a well rehearsed dance, and she knew exactly how to use it to get what she wanted.
Admittedly, it had even worked on (y/n) a few times.  So she knew that no man was strong enough to withstand it’s power.
Sure enough, the girls were already headed back to the table with three drinks between them, and proud grins on their faces as they snickered between themselves.
“Did a phone number come with these?” (y/n) teased as Maki handed her the extra cocktail.  She thanked her with a bright smile, admiring the swirls of color in the drink before she stirred it up.
“Sure did,” Mai says, flashing the napkin between her fingers, the scrawl of numbers in purple ink spread across one side.  “I think I might call this one too” She adds excitedly.
Maki and (y/n) share a laugh before the three of them raise their glasses, clinking them together gently.
A few drinks passed and (y/n) had almost forgotten why she’d even wanted to go out tonight.  It was so nice to hang out with the Zen’in twins.  There was always plenty to gossip about, and especially in a setting like this one, there was only more fuel for their fire.
While Mai went back to order their fourth round, and flirt with the bartender some more, Maki dragged (y/n) out to the dance floor.  She knew her well enough to know that three drinks was just the right amount to loosen her up and get her out there without much protest.  And just as she thought, (y/n) eagerly followed, hips already swaying to the familiar beat.
“You feelin’ better?” Maki asked, leaning in close enough so she didn’t have to yell as much over the music.  Close enough that (y/n) could smell the familiar perfume she’d been wearing since they were in high school.
“I am,” She beamed up at her friend while they danced.  “Thank you for taking me out, this is just what I needed” 
Maki smiled back at her, relieved to have helped.  Even if it was only for a few hours, she knew that this distraction was necessary to clear her mind.
(y/n) and Yuuta had been dancing the dance of friends that hadn’t realized they were infatuated with each other for so long that Maki genuinely couldn’t remember a time when their romantic tension wasn’t all consuming.  When they’d decided to move in together, she’d known it was only a matter of time before something changed between them.  They all knew, hence the bet with Mai and Toge, that living in close quarters would create a rift at some point.
It sounded like that rift was more of a dive head first into unexplored territory, and (y/n’s) panic text last night that only read ‘s.o.s yuuta and i almost hooked up and i think i’m gonna have a panic attack’ was far more than anything she could expected to happen, but it was amusing nonetheless.
And Maki loved her friends.  She loved them so much she was happy to take her out for drinks and dancing in order to relieve some of the awkward tension at home.  But her friends were morons, and when this was resolved, she planned to never let them live it down.
Because there was no doubt in her mind that Yuuta loved (y/n) with every fiber of his being.  No doubt at all that (y/n) felt just the same for him.  She’d been following him around with stars in her eyes since they were children.  And Yuuta had never treated anyone the way he treated (y/n)- like she hung the moon and stars, like his entire world revolved around her.  
They could be in a crowded room with blasting music and hollering voices, and if (y/n) was speaking, Yuuta was listening to every word with his undivided attention.  Maki had seen it, on multiple occasions.
Six drinks and two free rounds of shots from the bartender that had a crush on Mai later, and Maki was struggling to herd her sister and her friend outside and towards the car.
It was very late into the night, and even for a Friday night Maki was ready to crash and get a full night of sleep.  She should have known to start the process of leaving an hour early, because since suggesting they square up their minimal tab and heading out, an hour is how long it had taken to get the two remotely close to the door.
Mai was insistent on staying until the place closes- which wasn’t for another three hours- but Maki refused to ditch her sister at a bar at one in the morning with a guy she just met.  Free drinks or not, that crossed girl and sister code for her.
(y/n) was a different story.  Three-drink (y/n) loosened up enough to dance a bit and mingle just a little.  Six-drink-and-two-shots (y/n) was making best friends out of everyone she ran into, whether they wanted to chat or not, she found a reason to hold their attention.  One girl had cute boots, some other guy was wearing a tee shirt of a band she’d heard of- not even liked, just heard of- and now she was off again talking to someone near the bathrooms.
“She said she was gonna pee!” Maki barked, and Mai lazily turned her attention towards where Maki was glaring.  “Come on, let’s go get her.  Again” 
Knowing better than to trust Mai to follow, Maki snatches her by the wrist and drags her across the bar with her.  Mai finds this amusing and a bit ridiculous, but doesn’t fight with her.
As they grow nearer and can see (y/n’s) animated talking, they also get a better look at who it was that had stolen her attention.
“Hey wait a sec,” Mai stops in her tracks, pulling her arm out of Maki’s grip only to grab her shoulder and maneuver her body until she could follow her exact line of sight.  “Is that…?” The name doesn’t come off her tongue, but it doesn’t need to.  Maki recognizes the man she’s speaking too instantly.
And she glowers, before speeding off towards the pair at a faster, more determined rate.  This time she knows Mai will be hot on her tail.
“Naoya!” 
(y/n) and the stranger she’d been talking to both perk up.  Recognition flashes in both of them as they see the Zen’in twins stampeding towards them.  (y/n) beams, delighted to see her friends.  The handsome stranger she’d been conversing with wears a smug look as he smirks at his cousins.
“We’re leaving,” Maki said, putting herself between (y/n) and her distant cousin, staring down at her friend with a grave expression.  “Let’s go-” 
“I didn’t pee” (y/n) pouts up at her, too out of it to notice the hostility between her friend and the man she’d just met.  Maki huffs, narrowing her eyes at her as though to ask ‘really?’.  (y/n) bats her eyes up at her.
“I was just keeping (y/n) here company while she waited,” Naoya speaks up.
The Zen’in twins both spun around to glare at him as he spoke.  If (y/n) hadn’t been inebriated she may have recognized the icy stares that she’d seen many people cower away from before.  Eerily enough when directed at him, he stared back at them with his chin tilted out and a smirk on his face.
“I’m happy to wait with her if you both have somewhere to be?” He suggested.
“As if” 
“Eat shit” 
Mai and Maki spoke in unison, both of their comments jarring (y/n), who was now shielded behind them like a small child.  Naoya lifted his hands in mock surrender, and took a step away from the wall.
He caught eyes with (y/n), confused, naive, drunk (y/n), who tilted her head as he waved goodbye to her.  She weakly raised a hand to return the gesture.  Maki glared between them both as she followed the interaction.
“You’ve got my number,” He grins, his eyes staying locked on hers even while Maki and Mai’s were so sharp he could almost feel them piercing his skin.  “If you change your mind on getting over that roommate” 
Mai’s jaw dropped open as she whirled around to (y/n), a look in her eyes that was somewhere between excitement and bewilderment.  Maki snarled at the man until he finally turned around and left.  It wasn’t until then that she ushered (y/n) into the bathroom, where there was no line to begin with, as it was completely empty inside.
The loud music and crowd at the bar muffled out once they were alone in there, and (y/n) was quick to scurry into a stall.
“Fucking ridiculous,” Maki cursed under her breath, while Mai pulled herself onto the counter of sinks, swinging her feet as she laughed to herself.  “If he tries to talk to her again, I’m punching him in the goddamn teeth” 
“That guy?” (y/n) called from the stall, only to go ignored by the sisters on the outside.
“Like when we were kids?” Mai mused, a smirk curling on her lips as she recalled the distant memory.
“No,” Maki shook her head, before a slow smirk of her own formed.  “That was his nose” 
They shared a laugh, even while (y/n) continued to ask who and what they were talking about.  Naoya was a face they’d hoped they’d never have to see again, but certainly had no issue breaking if it came to it.  And knowing him, things would likely come to that.  Since birth he’d been an asshole, it seemed.  Something about being a trust fund baby and a narcissistic manipulator seemed to bring out the worst in him.
(y/n) comes out of the stall with a childish frown as she drags her feet to the sink.
“We’re talking about Naoya,” Mai says, leaning back into the mirror to speak to (y/n) while she washes her hands.  “He’s our cousin” 
“That guy out there?” (y/n) mumbles, her brows furrowing as she focuses intently on soaping up her hands.  “He’s your cousin?” 
Mai nods.
“And he’s the fucking worst,” Maki pipes up with a bark in her tone that has (y/n’s) eyes snapping to her reflection in the mirror.  Sure enough, Maki was giving her a pointed glare.  “Stay away from him (y/n), he’s a piece of shit” 
With wide eyes and her lips pressed together, (y/n) nods back at her in a small movement.
She hadn’t spoken to him too much.  He’d approached her while she was lingering at the wall trying to get her texts to go through.  She vaguely recalled him saying something about a pretty girl being alone, but she hadn’t given him much of her attention, too drunk and annoyed with her phone for not working to care.
But one thing led to another and she was complaining to him about not getting in touch with her hot roommate that she’d made things complicated with, and after he showed her how to send the message as a text rather than an imessage, he’d prodded her into telling him more about this situation-ship as he’d called it, and next thing she knew, she was talking on and on about Yuuta.
And (y/n) may have been a bit drunk, but she wasn’t oblivious.  She caught the way he told her he’d help her get her mind off of things, she noticed the smirk on his lips and the darkness in his eyes as they swept her figure.  But she didn’t care about his intentions.  She just needed to vent, to an impartial- partially impartial- party that wouldn’t tell her what everyone else was telling her.
So honestly, (y/n) had no problem ignoring the new number in her contacts.  She wasn’t looking to hook up with Naoya.  But his company was appreciated while it lasted, even if he did only stick around her in the hopes of getting laid.
“She’s not interested in him like that,” Mai tells her sister, before her eyes flit over to (y/n) as she dries her hands.  “Are you?” 
(y/n) merely shakes her head, and tosses the paper towel in the bin.
“Thought so,” Mai smirked.  “You’re still hung up on Yuu-ta~” She singsongs his name with girlish charm, and Maki cracks a small laugh, relieved to know that she didn’t have to teach her asshole cousin a lesson to keep him away from her best friend.
“That much is obvious”
“Come on,” (y/n) sighs, pulling on Mai’s arm to get her off of the counter so they could finally leave the bar.  “Let’s go home so I can sleep this off and hopefully forget all of it” 
Mai slings her arm around her waist as they leave the bathroom, the noise of the busy place drowning out all else once more.  Even as the three of them push through the crowd, with Maki leading because her presence was strong enough to part a path in any crowd, (y/n’s) thoughts are messy.  It was probably all the drinks, but she couldn’t help but feel guilty for the situation she’d put herself in.
She feels Mai’s cheek on top of her head when they near the door, and Maki opens it for the two to go through first, then follow behind.  Sometimes (y/n) thinks her friendship with the twins had developed so much that she shares some of their special twin telepathy.  Because Mai squeezes her hip and nuzzles into her hair just as her thoughts begin to spiral the longer she thinks about going home.  Mai was always affectionate when she was drunk, and maybe she was riding on a high after her score with the sexy bartender, but (y/n) appreciated it nonetheless.  She even sat with her in the backseat of Maki’s car, falling half asleep on her while leaning up against one another.
“I’m so not carrying her if she passes out,” Maki half-chides as she glares at her barely conscious sister in the backseat.  “She can spend the night back there, I don’t care, I’m tired of carrying her ass around” 
(y/n) chuckles, and laughs a little louder as Mai stirs and mutters something along the lines of ‘m not fuckin’ tired back at her.
Somehow she doesn’t pass out on top of (y/n), although her weight is heavy against her, when Maki parks at (y/n’s) apartment complex, Mai sits right up and gets out of the car.  Her and (y/n) keep their arms wrapped around each other as they head inside.  Maki rolls her eyes and occasionally scolds them for being too slow, or stumbling around and bumping into things, but her voice is soft and her hands are gentle as she guides them to the door.
Just as (y/n) is slurring over her words trying- and failing- to explain that she doesn’t have her key, the door opens and Maki is pushing the two inside.
Mai disappears from (y/n’s) side almost instantly, suddenly craving a glass of water and one of the peaches on display in a porcelain bowl on the kitchen counter.
“Pretty much what you expected, yeah?” (y/n) hears Maki say, but she’s suddenly so tired that keeping her eyes open feels like a workout.  She doesn’t even have the energy to ask her what she’s talking about.
“Yeah, pretty much,” Someone replies.  A familiar voice that was deep but soft around the edges.  An instinctive smile forms on her lips.  “Thanks for driving, though.  And for… everything else” The voice grows quieter towards the end.
And then there’s a pair of hands on her shoulders, and (y/n) nearly collapses into the embrace.  She stumbles, catching her heel at an awkward angle and nearly sprains an ankle trying to correct her stance.  But the hands are faster, and stronger, and lift her by her hips before she could fall on the bent ankle or hurt herself at all.  She’s placed right back on the ground a moment later, but the hands remain.
“Yuuta~” She greets him once she finally realizes who it is that is keeping her upright.  It was an honest mistake, with her heavy eyes and alcohol flooded system, it was easy to confuse Yuuta’s strength for Maki’s.
Yuuta chuckles quietly at her delayed acknowledgement, his thumb caressing her hip in gentle circles.
“Let’s get you some water and into bed, hm?” He hums, tugging gently on her to get her to follow him.
(y/n) stumbles along without much hesitation at all.  She’s humming a tune that had been stuck in her head after she’d heard it at the bar, and Yuuta tries not to laugh at her inebriated state, but she does make it difficult.
When he opens the door to her bedroom, they realize why it had been shut.
Mai was face down in (y/n’s) pillows, passed out cold.  Her heels had been kicked off and unceremoniously thrown onto the rug, but that was as far as she got in settling in for bed.  She was still in her dress, all of her jewelry, and most definitely was staining (y/n’s) silky pillowcases with her makeup.
“Damn, that’s another pillowcase set she owes me” (y/n) mumbles with a huff, leaning defeatedly into her door frame.
“She’s done this before?” Yuuta’s brows furrow.
(y/n) looks over at him with a frustrated pout before nodding.  He winces, but their moment of shared exasperation is quickly clouded by how funny it was that such a thing had occurred twice and they hadn’t learned from it, and soon Yuuta was ushering them both out of the doorway and into the hall so they could let her sleep in peace.
“We’ll let her stay,” He says quietly, already guiding her to the other door.  His door, she realizes distantly.  “She clearly needs the rest, you can just stay in here, alright?”
He watches the delay in her realization as she turns to face him with a concerned look on her face.  Yuuta already knows what she’s going to say before the words form in her mouth.
“Don’t worry ‘bout it,” He eases her into the room with a gentle hand on her lower back.  Her expression is still unsure, but her feet move on their own accord further into the room.  “Get somethin’ to wear out of the dresser,” Yuuta instructs, knocking his knuckle against the drawer he kept his sleepwear in.  “I’ll go let Maki know she can stay with Mai if she wants” 
(y/n) gives him a small nod before he leaves the room, shutting the door behind him.  
It felt odd being in his room, not because it was unfamiliar to her, she actually spent plenty of time lounging in his room with him, but it was odd being there without him.  Especially when she’d been asked to change, and into his clothes no less.  
Her movements were hesitant as she opened the drawer he’d pointed to.  The wood creaked out and put his clothes on their perfect, organized display.  She let out a small laugh through her nose at how crisp his tee shirts were folded, and similarly, the even rolls of sweatpants beside them.  It was almost ridiculous how perfect it all looked.  But she couldn’t be surprised.
It almost felt wrong to pluck out a tee shirt and pair of sweats and unfold them, but suddenly her wrinkled skirt and the straps that didn’t want to stay in place on her shoulders were enough of a bother for her to unzip the irritating material and let it drop to the floor.
Yuuta’s clothes smelled like him.  Which shouldn’t have been something that surprise her as much as it did, pausing as she tugged the tee shirt down, dipping her nose against the loose collar and inhaling the familiar scent of pine and the laundry detergent they shared, creating a fragrance that was so distinctly Yuuta she could recognize it in a second.
She tied the drawstrings of the sweatpants in a double knot to keep them from sliding back off her hips, and that was when there was a knock on the door.
“Come in” She called quietly, aware of the sleeping girl in the next room over.  Although a tornado couldn’t stir Mai from the drunken slumber she was in.
Yuuta opened the door slowly, trying to keep it from creaking, before he entered the room.
He tried not to stare, he really did, but he couldn’t help but smile at the way his clothes blanketed her, and just how cute she looked in them.  It wasn’t necessarily the first time she’s worn his clothes, there had been plenty of times where he’d lent her his jacket, or a spare tee shirt in high school when she’d spilled milk on her blouse, and those times had felt special too, but now felt… significant.
Seeing her wrapped up in his pajamas in his room while getting ready to go to sleep in his bed, Yuuta’s grinning at her while her face is going pink with embarrassment.
“Maki went home,” He cleared his throat, trying to remember the conversation he’d just had before he walked in here and had his mind wiped of all logical thought.  “She said she’ll pick Mai up in the morning” 
“Alright then,” (y/n) nodded in understanding.  “Oh, and can I borrow a-” 
“Your shoes are still on,” 
Yuuta’s voice is soft as he cuts her off, vaguely pointing to where her strappy heels poked out under the pool of fluffy cotton at her feet.  She looks down as though confused by the statement, but sure enough she realizes she hadn’t taken them off when she’d dropped her dress and stepped into the sweats.
She giggles to herself and lifts a leg, the excess fabric of his pants hanging off her ankle so she could be sure her heels were in fact still on her feet.
“Here,” Yuuta reaches out, guiding her to sit on the edge of his bed.  She follows, but just before she could lean over to undo the small buckles at her ankles, Yuuta was already kneeling to the ground before her.
(y/n’s) certain that her mistake from the night prior is the only reason that she feels a swell in her chest and an intimate tension settle in the air around them.  Because there’s no other reason she should feel her heart racing and her face going hot as he carefully unlatches the buckle of the left shoe and slides the strap out before pulling the shoe away and dropping it to the floor.  There’s no reason why she should feel butterflies fluttering around her tummy as he follows the same procedure for the right one.
But she does.  She feels her blush and the butterflies and the dryness in her throat as the tension sucks all of the oxygen right from her lungs.  And when he looks up at her with a sweet smile, surely happy to have helped, all of those feelings seem to be put under a magnifying glass.
“Better?” He asks with that damn smile.
Against her will, her mind wanders to how soft and warm that smile had felt when it was pressed against her mouth.  How firm and gentle and experienced his mouth felt when it kissed hers.  Her fingers dig into the plush comforter she sat on, trying to ground herself to reality, as far away from that memory as she could get.
She gives him a small nod.
“What did you want to borrow?” He asks as he stands, and her eyes follow his as he’s suddenly so easily towering over her.  She almost had no idea what he was talking about, and she’s quick to release her hold on the blanket.
“Right- um- could I borrow one of your blankets? Mai is on top of all of-” 
Yuuta’s chuckling makes her halt in her explanation, her brows barely pinching together in question at the reaction.
“You don’t need to sleep on the couch (y/n/n), you can stay in here, I already told you that,” 
She presses her lips together as she regards him, trying to find any source of discomfort or regret.  He seems to pick up on her evaluation, and he raises a brow as he chuckles at her.
The sound feels all too delighted, like he was amused by her hesitation.
“(y/n), it’s fine, you’re overthinking,” He tells her.  “I’ll get you a glass of water, m’kay? Just… get comfortable.  You’ve slept in here tons of times before” 
He leaves the room before she could say what they were both thinking.  Not like this.  She’d accidentally napped in here on a few occasions, waiting too long for him to be done studying, or when her bedding was in the wash and she had grown tired after a day of chores, she wasn’t a stranger to his bed.  But just as she wasn’t a stranger to his room, it still felt all too new right now.
Like if she moved too quickly she might break something intangible yet oh so fragile.
Nonetheless, she shuffles into the bed and under the covers, and her hazy mind begins to settle as soon as she rests her head on one of Yuuta’s feathery pillows.  She wonders if everything he surrounded himself with- his clothes, his blankets, his pillows- was comfortable because he valued comfort, or if it simply was because it was all his.  Because it was an extension of him.
But maybe she was still just a bit drunk and overthinking the fluffy warmth surrounding her.  Maybe he was right about that part.
She’d just been drifting off to sleep when the door opened again, and she peeks her eyes open as Yuuta brings a glass of water over to the bedside table she laid next to.
“Try to drink all that tonight, alright?” His voice is a hum, surrounded by softness, and comfort, and she’s reaching for that question in the back of her mind again, prodding at it until she’s a little less sleepy, her curiosity stirring her mind enough to keep it active.
“Alright,” She murmurs back, leaning up on her elbow as she reaches for the glass, delighted to see it was chilled with ice.  “Thank you” She adds before taking a few sips.  Her dry throat had gone unnoticed until the first touch of water to her tongue, and suddenly she’s drinking down half the glass.
The bed dips behind her as Yuuta settles in, sighing to himself quietly as he gets situated.  (y/n) quickly sets the glass back down, before turning over to face him.
In the dark room she vaguely makes out his silhouette, and she can’t tell if he’s looking at her or not, so maybe it’s what helped ease her nerves as she laid before him.
“Did you have a good night?” He breaks the silence first, but he keeps his voice quiet.
“Yeah, I guess so,” (y/n) mumbles back, her fingers finding a loose thread in his sheets.  “It was fun dancing with Maki and Mai…” She wraps the thread around the tip of her middle finger.
“You sound disappointed” Yuuta comments, hooking his arm under his pillow so he could get a slightly better read on her expression, but the shadows cast over her features are too dark for him to decipher.
But he can feel it when she shrugs one of her shoulders and hums in a way that sounds like I don’t know.
“It was alright, it was, I just…” She tries to explain it, but as she speaks the rest of the words just don’t come to mind.  It had been fine, it had been fun even, nothing wrong had happened, but it didn’t quite feel… “I think I just thought my tendency of drinking to forget was the right way to go, but I don’t think it worked, and I think I’m only going to feel worse,” 
It was word vomit through and through, an endless stream of thoughts flowing right out of her mouth before she could think twice about what she was saying or how it might make him feel.  But the cusp of the issue was right there and she was dying to understand the complicated knot of feelings swelling in her chest.
“I think I made a mistake,” She slows down as she says this, and Yuuta wishes she would’ve ripped off the bandaid, but at least she couldn’t see it when he frowned at her.  “But not- not for what you think, I don’t mean it… like that,” She stammers a bit as she tries to correct herself, the alcohol still in her system doing her no favors besides the minor boost in courage.  “But I… I don’t think I could handle it” She says in a small voice.
She’s quiet for a bit as she tightens the thread around her finger, barely able to make out the way it creases and dips into her skin.
“Well…” Yuuta sighs, struggling to find the right thing to say to her.  
What could he say? He could tell her the truth, unpack all of his feelings, his entire heart, right here, but at the end of the day wouldn’t that just make things more complicated? She wasn’t exactly sober, and if she didn’t feel remotely the same way then he dug himself a socially awkward grave that he’d just have to live in because damn it they split the rent.  He’s panicking, breaking into a cold sweat even under two blankets.
“It was just a kiss, yeah?” He repeats what she’d told him just last night.  But unlike the confident, smug way she’d phrased it, he sounds unsure, and maybe even frightened.
Her head moves, and he still can’t make out the direction of her gaze, but he can still feel her eyes on him.  He tries to focus his vision better, hoping to adjust to the darkness soon.
“If it was just a kiss I don’t think I would’ve felt compelled to go out and try to forget it happened,” (y/n) replies, her voice hushed, afraid of revealing too much.  “I’m just really sorry” 
Yuuta blinks a few times, as if that would help him figure out if he heard her right.
“You don’t have to apologize, (y/n),” He tells her, his voice taking on a more serious tone.  “You have nothing to be sorry for, you didn’t do anything wrong-” 
“I made things so weird and over- over some dumb advice from Maki- and I just can’t believe I managed to find a way to make our friendship weird because- because you mean a lot to me, you’re really my best friend, Yuuta” 
He can’t tell if his heart swells with love or bursts with the sting of rejection at the statement.
“You’re overthinking again,” He forces a light chuckle, before reaching out and gently wrapping his hand over hers.  “It’s not that weird, alright? Nothing could change… us… okay?” 
She doesn’t say anything, just sighs in disappointment while his thumb brushes over the back of her hand.
“You mean a lot to me too, you know that,” He tried to lighten the mood, but with barely seeing her face it was hard to tell how she was feeling.  “It was just a kiss, alright? Just a… really nice kiss” 
“A few really nice kisses,” She mutters under her breath, finally cracking a small laugh.  Yuuta beams back at her, unable to stop himself from giggling back at her.
It grows quiet between them after a few minutes, but this time it’s comfortable, and she feels her muscles untense as she sinks further into the mattress.
“I did complain about you, though” 
“Complain?” Yuuta pouted.  “To the Zen’ins? They’ll use that against me, you know” 
(y/n) giggles, knowing full well that if she’d told the twins one foul thing about Yuuta they’d grab him by the ankles and dangle him right off this apartment building until he apologized to her.  But she shakes her head at him.
“No, no not to them.  Some guy at the bar,” She explains.  “Their cousin, actually,” 
He racks his brain for a minute, trying to recall who this cousin is, but he can only think of Megumi, and everyone knew Megumi, so had she run into Megumi, she would’ve said so, wouldn’t she? But no, she said some guy.
“Got his number, too,” She adds, but she sounds defeated, like it wasn’t a victory to get a cute stranger’s number at a bar when she’d specifically gone out seeking a distraction.
Something odd twists in Yuuta’s gut.  The jealousy was distinct, but the pride in picking up on the fact that she hadn’t been interested in this mysterious Zen’in relative.
“Maki said he’s a dick, though,” She explained her lack of interest.  “But he was sure happy to put up with my troubles” 
Yuuta lets out a humorless laugh.  “Who wouldn’t listen to a pretty girl at a bar rant about her problems?” He asks, and he can’t quite see it but he knows she rolls her eyes at him.  “But since you got that number complaining about me, that makes me a wingman, right?” 
She snorts back at him.
“Not in the slightest” 
“No?” He frowns.  “Why not?” 
“For one, you weren’t there, you can’t be a wingman if you’re not present,” She explains, matter-of-factly.  “And for two, I don’t think telling a guy how annoying it is that my hot roommate has been walking around in a towel and getting in my head really is all that deserving of me getting a phone number.  I don’t think that booty-call was going to lead anywhere other than the bathroom stall” 
Yuuta crinkled his nose at the descriptive language, before backtracking and perking up at the other part.
“Did you say I’m hot?” 
Realization flashes in her eyes, and Yuuta thanks whatever deity is up there that he can finally make out her features in the dark room.  When she doesn’t immediately reply, his lips curl into a grin.
“You did!” He teases, and she yanks her hand out of his gentle hold, only for him to poke at her face playfully.  “You said-!” 
“Hush,” She shushes him with irritation.  “You’ll wake up Mai.  And- and that’s not a big deal.  You compliment me all the time” 
Her face is burning, and the smile that threatens to take over her face is beginning to win.
“Shut up, that’s totally different,” He murmurs, and moves closer to her when she tries to shrink away out of embarrassment.  “You called me your hot roommate.  And apparently you’re getting bothered over a towel? Is me being shirtless that upsetting?” 
“I’m not doing this with you right now-” 
“Oh no, come on, you have to now,” Yuuta pleads, his voice still that annoyingly sexy teasing tone.  (y/n) turns to push her face into her pillow, and he wiggles closer again, eager to hear what else she’d had on her mind.  “Come on, what else did you have to complain about?” 
“I complained that you’re annoying,” She whines, her voice muffled by the pillow.  Yuuta chuckles.  “And I complained about how you don’t know how much you…” She trails off, and her voice goes impossibly quieter.  “Bother me” She finishes in a mumble to the pillow.
He hears it perfectly clear.
His face feels hot, and there’s a familiar little tingle in his stomach.  But he smirks at her hiding form.
“Well what else, then?” He asks.
(y/n) rolls her head to the side, pressing her cheek back into the pillow as she looks over at him.
“What do you mean?” She asks.
“What else bothers you?” He clarifies his question.
She giggles as she shakes her head at him.
“No way” 
“Yes way,” Yuuta laughs back at her.  “Come on, tell me” 
“No!” She protests again in a hiss.  “Am I not embarrassed enough already? I’m taking this to my grave” 
“No you’re not,” Yuuta scoffs.  “Come on, you tell me everything, so, tell me” 
She supposed he had a point.  A dumb one, but a point nonetheless.  Clearly at some point or another she was bound to indulge him on this.  Even though she couldn’t explain it, she was always driven to share every part of herself with Yuuta.  Even when it was embarrassing.  Even when it was intimate.
(y/n) may have told the Zen’in twins about the rushing-out-of-the-shower thing, but that hadn’t meant there weren’t other instances where her mind crossed the platonic boundary between her revolving thoughts of Yuuta.  That was just the first occurrence she assumed they could understand.
She huffs.
“Sometimes you wear your tee shirts a size too small,” She mumbles.
Yuuta wants to tease her, maybe crack a joke, but he keeps his mouth shut as she gives in.  He didn’t want to miss a single word.  He had to pay close attention so he knew exactly how to get under her skin in all the right ways.  Hearing that she found him hot was one thing, he could pass it off as a joke or an empty compliment.  Hearing that there were specific things that he did that made her sexually frustrated? He couldn’t mess this up for himself.
“And when you drive me places, you do that thing with your arm when you back the car up” She adds.
“What do you mean?” He questions that one with a furrowed brow.
“You know,” She mumbles, weakly lifting her arm to demonstrate, bending it behind her head.  He shakes his head, not understanding in the slightest.  “You always grab the back of my seat and look over your shoulder,” She tries to put it into words.  “And then, it’s just, like-” The words fail her again as she continues the motion with her arm.  Yuuta thinks he gets what she’s trying to explain, but he has no idea that such a mundane action was a bother for her.
“That turns you on?” He tries not to laugh, but then (y/n’s) face goes red and she’s trying to deny it.
“I didn’t say that!” She squeaks out.  “I just, you know, forget that I’m not supposed to… thinkaboutyoulikethat” She rushes the confession out as fast as she can.
“I… think that’s pretty normal,” Yuuta admits quietly.  (y/n) blinks wide eyes at him, waiting for him to continue.  “And if anything, I’m flattered,” He adds with a grin.
“Yeah, yeah,” (y/n) huffs, before wiggling closer, pressing her forehead into his chest before sighing, sleepiness overcoming her.  “Not a word of this to anyone else” She mutters.
Yuuta mock whines as he wraps an arm around her back, tucking her closer against him.  He pretends not to notice when her nose nuzzles into his tee shirt, in the middle of his chest.  He pretends not to notice when her hand slips across his abdomen and over his waist.
“I think about you too,” He murmurs, resting his chin on top of her head.  Her fingers twitch on his hip, almost tickling him.  He tries not to wiggle, he doesn’t want her to think he’s uncomfortable.  “For the record” 
“You do?” She mumbles, half asleep already, but too curious about what he meant by that.
“Mhm” He hums, his hand trailing down her spine and then back up again, the gentle touch of his fingers warming her up, making her melt further into him.
“Like when?” She asks, and when he doesn’t reply right away, she lets out a sigh.  “Come on, I told you!” She whined.  “Now you have to tell me some embarrassing stuff, too” 
“Alright, that’s fair,” Yuuta agreed.  “I like when you wear that dress” He says.  (y/n) beams against his chest.
“That one?” She mumbles, weakly gesturing to the pool of fabric on his floor.  He nods back at her.
“Mhm,” He confirms quietly.  “I know it’s your favorite.  It should be” He smiles to himself.  (y/n) giggles quietly, the soft vibrations hitting his chest and warming his skin.
“Tell me more” She mumbles, the words barely audible.  Yuuta knows that she’s going to pass out soon.  Her breathing was beginning to slow, and her chest rose and fell in steady movements.  Surely he could leave this conversation as it is and she’d be fast asleep in a minute or two anyhow.
“Well,” He sighs out the word, as if he had to pick his own brain to come up with more examples, as if every little thing she did wasn’t enough to catch his eye on it’s own.  “Maybe things are a lil’ different now, hm?” He hums.
(y/n) doesn’t respond.  For a second, he thinks maybe she’s finally fallen asleep, but just as he contemplates checking, her head moves in a small nod.  A silent, barely-there admission.
“I like the way you kiss,” He says, and she can hear the smile in his voice, the cheeky but all-too shy little grin that she’s grown so accustomed to.  She gives him another giggle, a breathless little laugh that makes her shoulders shake and her nose press into the collar of his shirt.  “It’s true, I mean it,” Yuuta said, a quiet laugh escaping him as well.  Partially due to her laughter infecting him, partially out of the relief that maybe talking about what happened would help them both to not feel so weird about it now.  “You’re a good kisser, you should be proud.  I for one feel honored” 
He’s teasing, she knows that, but her face still feels warm as she keeps it tucked away in his chest, hoping that her heart wasn’t beating so rapidly that he could hear it in the quiet room.
“You’re a good kisser, too,” Her words are more slurred than before, Yuuta can practically hear her losing consciousness as she drifts off.  “Really good kisser” She adds under her breath.
And then her head feels a little heavier on his chest, and Yuuta doesn’t have to check to know she’s asleep in his arms.  He’s exhausted and he knows he should close his eyes and try to sleep, too.  But it feels too nice to hold her close, so he hangs onto consciousness for as long as he can.
Before his body’s tiredness finally takes over, he brushes his lips over the crown of her head, and settles into his pillow with his arms securely wrapped around her, making sure that she stays close while he sleeps.
___
xoxo ~ jordie
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You’re too sweet for me — Kai Anderson x Reader (pt. 1)
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kai is obsessed with you, but determined not to get to close to you. that is, until you are attacked in the woods and he’s forced to enter into the proximity of your feminine pheromones. how can he resist your angelic presence now?
warnings: sexual themes. vulgar. stalking. millennial texting?
this sort of reads like a second person p.o.v. of You :/ womp womp. italicized kai thoughts btw
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Kai watched you.
He learned your favorite songs, holed up in his dark room, finding every photo of you online that ever existed. He started following you home, mapping out your days in his free time.
His obsession began when you had bumped into him on your way to a local cafe. You had looked at him with startled eyes, put your hand on his bicep.
“Oh, excuse me, I’m sorry!” Your words spilled out, hyperfeminine and littered with apologetic concern. It was like you were trying to drive him crazy. Like you were trying to torture him with your softness. The image of your sweet face, your neck craned up to look at him got so caught in his mind that he had to take his coffee to the car and rub one out in the parking lot.
He planned to only ever watch you from afar. If he ever got near you, he’d taint you. He didn’t want that. You were too clean for his sinner filth.
Could it hurt to follow you home once or twice, though? You’d finish up with class, you’d walk home through the trees and the Michigan twilight— he’d be there.
You were good; good like he’d never seen before. You visited your parents on the weekends, you went to class, you went to some feminist organization meeting on Tuesdays and Thursdays (your only flaw, as far as he knew— exceptionally forgivable), you wore soft sweaters and heart necklaces, you smiled at everyone, everything. You listened to older music, you read at your window nightly. You were so clean. So pure.
He could never touch you.
He hates when his plans get muddled. Most of the time.
On a night mid-November, he had followed you from class back to your place, wearing a zip-up hoodie pulled over his blue hair.
You took some shortcut through the woods, which, if he was your boyfriend, if he was your protector, he would never allow you to do, but he wasn’t, so he followed closely behind, ducking behind trees periodically.
He was staring at your hair in the moonlight, thinking about blindfolding you, stuffing that lacy white headband you always wore in your mouth, wrapping that white cloth belt you wore loose on your hips around your neck and using it as a leash, when he saw a shadow from the left side of the pathway lurking up towards you. It wasn’t long until it had approached you. It was a man, he could see now through the dark, and he was taller than you, and larger, as well.
“Pretty little thing,” he heard a deep voice through the darkness. Kai’s instinct lit aflame. He ran up behind you, where the man had now grabbed your shoulders.
While the man was larger than you, Kai was taller and broader than him. He kicked him to the ground in one swift movement, then kicked his stomach many times. He then leaned down over the man’s face and said, “Run. Away. Now.”
He’d have that dealt with that later.
As quickly as seemed possible, the man was trails blazing down the pathway, swallowed by the dark.
“Hey, are you okay?” Kai touched your shoulder, wiping sweat—or blood— from his forehead.
“Yes, I’m alright, are you okay?” you looked up with those big fucking doe eyes, touching his chest, tip-toeing to get a better look at his face. You hadn’t seen if he was hit or not. It didn’t look like it.
“I’m fine,” he said, backing away slightly.
You stared at him for a moment. The purple light was fading into the ground, so you couldn’t see well, but you recognized his face. “Wait… hey… do I know you?” That pretty, meek little voice.
I could kill myself right now, he thought. It’d be better than this. “Oh, really? From where?” he shifted his feet, putting his hands in his pockets.
“I can’t… put my finger on it,” you whispered, biting your lip, deep in thought, twisting your necklace in one hand. “Oh! I know. I bumped into you at Brookfield Café.”
He tilted his head, furrowing his brows. “I don’t remember, but I’m sure you’re right. Memory isn’t my strong suit.” Lie.
“That’s okay, I have a pretty bland face,” you respond, smiling. Not at all.
“No, no, I must’ve been in a hurry,” he paused. “Why don’t I walk you home?”
“Oh… I… Uhm… Sure,” you nod, beginning to walk.
Jesus, you were as trusting as a hungry puppy, he thought.
“You know, you really shouldn’t walk alone in the dark. It’s not like it used to be around here. People are dangerous,” Kai said.
“Yeah, I guess,” you shrug. “You’re right.” You decided to add so as to not seem dismissive.
No one would take care of you like I would. No one knows how to take care of innocent, sweet girls like you. I do. I do, (Y/N). “What’s your name, by the way?” he asked.
“Oh, sorry!” Kai’s dick pressed against his pants harder every time you said ‘sorry’. You had to know. You must. What the fuck were you apologizing for? “I’m (Y/N). What’s yours?”
“That’s a beautiful name, (Y/N),” he paused, which left only silence, and he couldn’t quite see your face well enough to gauge your comfort. “I’m Kai.”
“It’s lovely to meet you, Kai.”
Fuuuuckkkkk.
“Thank you for saving me,” you spoke into the dark.
“I’m just glad I was there.”
“That’s my place,” you pointed as your two faces emerged from the dark of the woods into the warm streetlamp light.
As you reached the entrance, you turned to him and reached up to wrap your arms around his shoulders. Must be shock, he thought.
“Thanks so much,” you said as you pulled away from him. You turned to walk away, then turned around again, speaking to his back for a moment, “Hey, wait!” He turned around. “Could I… get your number?” you asked. “Sorry, I just… sorry,” you smiled lightly, no teeth.
How could he say no? “Sure,” he said. You handed him your phone. White phone. Pink phone case. Of course. He typed his phone number. ‘Your Savior ;)’ he made his contact name.
“My savior,” you giggled, waving a goodbye, then stepping inside.
I’m afraid I’m going to tear you apart.
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kayschariot · 2 days
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Dreams pt . 2
SMUT WARNING
(Quackity x Reader)
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-
It had been a few days since I talked with Alex. I didn’t really care but as for Alex he had been stressing over what he had said. Alex wasn’t able to talk to Y/N as the embarrassment would have killed him. No matter how many times Y/N would reach out she’d be left on read.
You decided it would be a good idea to go over to his house, his mom had been visiting. You took a quick drive over and found yourself knocking at the door.
“Hello? Oh! Y/N! Hi hun.” His mom spoke in a soft tone answering the door. “Hi there, could I come in?” I asked and she nodded “Why’re you here?”
“Oh i need to talk to Alex” I explained and she nodded me off. I went upstairs to his room and knocked. “Yeah?” He spoke and I smirked walking in.
he was laying down in his bed with the lights off. “Alex?” I asked shutting the door. His head whipped around and he quickly looked away hiding under the blanket. His breath quickened. “I can still see you dumbass,” I chuckled.
“I’m sorry.” he sighed. “For what?”
“For having that..that dream.” He said and i laughed sitting down on his bed, next to him. “You can’t help that .” I chuckled.
“I-I know,” He took the blanket off over him, he looked tired. “Is this a normal thing?” I asked and he nodded. “I really don’t know how to approach this” I giggled and his face was red of embarrassment.
the only light was his TV, sitting on. “Well..You know I wouldn’t mind if we di—“
“Please.”
He cut me off. “Have sex with you?” I asked,he nodded eagerly. “You sure?” I spoke “Yes yes..i’m very sure please” He spoke and I nodded.
I got up and shut the door, locking it. Alex got up and stood there. “So..I have your consent to..like..kiss you and stuff right” He asked and i nodded.
(fucking dumbass)
“O..okay..” He spoke taking a few steps toward me and placing his hands on my waist as he kissed me.
this moment was fucking euphoric for me and him. He softly pressed me against the wall, biting my bottom lip letting his tongue in. His hand found its way to my shirt as he pulled it up and off of me. He immediately went back to making out with me, His hands eagerly fiddling with the button of my jeans.
He slipped those off leaving me in a bra and panties. He slipped his shirt off and i just stared as he fiddled with the belt of his pants taking them off. He looked attractive as fuck. “You..You still sure?” He checked in. “Yes Alex.” I spoke and he went back to kissing me. He slowly pushed me back on the bed his knee going in between my legs making me moan softly.
He stopped for a moment. “That was so pretty,” He mumbled to himself and looked at my body for a moment. His hand went to the back of my bra un clipping it. I could then feel and see his hard. “Jesus christ your so fucking hot..” He mumbled and I got more and more nervous.
He slipped off my panties and looked at how wet I was. “So wet for me..?” He asked taking off his boxers.
my face was slightly red and i just looked at him. “shit i need a condom..” He spoke, “I-I’m on the pill.” I mumbled.
“I love you so fucking much..” He smiled and i smiled back. He positioned himself and slid in between my folds. A moan left my lips. “A-Alex!” I whimpered.
“You okay baby?” He said in a reassurance type tone. he started moving his hips slowly. I was moaning softly under him as he kissed me to try and shut me up.
He started going faster, pain turned into pleasure and I was getting closer and closer. The room filled with moans and ‘Wet noise.’
“You like that?” He asked as I nodded eagerly. “I-I’m g..gunna..Ohmygod..” I managed to whimper out..
“Cum for me” He spoken leaning down thrusting in and out of me. I squirmed and squeezed my eyes shut. “Look at me while I fuck you.” He spoke, And I did. I looked at him as I reached my climax. “A-ALEX! Fuck! Ohmygodohmygodohmygod..” I whimpered and moaned out biting his neck.
-
We both ‘finished’ and he pulled out. He got me cleaned up and we ran a bath. We came back to the room and got dressed and cuddled.
we were interrupted by a knock on the door, “Come in!” Alex said, His mom stood at the doorway. “How was your chat?” His mom asked us and we both went red, “Wh-What chat? We have just been watching movies,” Alex spoke nervousness taking over his body.
“mhm.” His mom walked out shutting the door. I laid back on his chest and giggled. “Be more fucking quiet next time please.” He asked “Next time? You plan to have sex with me again?” I giggled “Yes..yes I do.” He chuckled back.
“Damn take me on a date first.”
-
IM SORRY IF THIS IS BAD, someone requested a part two with smut and dawg-I’m bad with smut so i’m sorry if you wanted more then this but..sorry
REQUESTS ARE OPEN
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oksurethisismyname · 21 hours
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Hiiiii as a queer person living in the Bible Belt of the USA, I’m envisioning a “Christian trauma AU / general theology AU” because you know my main focus is always Sanji. This assumed that we’re in the USA, modern era, and I guess maybe a college or post grad AU for how they meet each other? This is a lonnnnnnnng text post so scroll at your own risk. To keep it from being toooo long I’m also sticking to east blue crew.
Hear me out:
There are a million different sects of Christianity so we’ve got a ton of angles to use.
Garp is catholic (but think FRENCH laïcité instead of American Amy Coney Barret Supreme Court justice weird catholic cult), Dragon straight up rebels against the strict structure and goes about his atheist ways. Neither of them really raise Luffy anyway so 💁🏻
Luffy ends up being agnostic. It’s not that he doesn’t believe in a higher power but he knows he needs to take action and that he can’t rely on a higher power to fix the problems of the world. Very Albert Camus, revolting against the absurd and holding himself to a higher responsibility in life
Zoro comes from a Shinto or Buddhist background. He’s not judging anyone’s religious beliefs unless they’re harming others.
Nami has religious trauma from the Baptist church that set up in her town and made it impossible to be herself. Belle Mere is so clearly queer and she’s harassed and dies at the hands of some zealous bigots who were emboldened by the words of the local Baptist church pastor (Arlong)
Ussop comes from a chill Protestant background (maybe Presbyterian?) But he’s more of a CEO (Christmas Easter Only) in terms of actually attending any sort of church. Honestly, with his dad out of the picture and his mom dying, he just had bigger things on his mind like living every day.
Finally, Sanji. Oh boy, Sanji has major “Quiverfull movement Christian” trauma from Judge. For those who don’t know, quiverfull is a Christian extremist movement where the idea is to have as many kids as possible and adhere to very strict purity rules and gender roles. Contraception isn’t allowed. Women wear long skirts and non fitted shirts to hide their womanly form (ew), and most of the time these parents homeschool there kids to avoid the “temptation” or “impurity” of modern society.
Judge had these 5 kids who he’s raised in this faith but Sanji never liked how Judge treated his mom. Why was Sora supposed to be “seen and not heard?” Why was it ok for his brothers to use scripture to bully and hurt and spread hate? Why would a loving god create women just to subjugate them? Judge wouldn’t like this, and once Sora passes away (probably because Judge wouldn’t let her seek medical care post birth of the quadruplets, so her health deteriorated for years), Judge locks him up and makes him do all sorts of horrible “prayer” and “repentance” practices, which are really just abuse.
Sanji would maybe escape when they go into town to get something mundane like a printer or a new wifi router (which only judge is allowed to use the internet). He’d probably bolt first chance he gets and when he meets Zeff, Zeff can recognize the signals of abuse. He takes Sanji in and even though Sanji never believed women were less than men, he still has years of trauma and gender roles beaten into him that he has to unpack.
His choice to cook? That’s a huge rebellion. Wearing tight fitting suits that look sinful? That’s a middle finger to his dad. He always treats women like goddesses because he feels so much guilt for the sins of his father. When he finally joins the Strawhats, he’s so overwhelmed with how free and nonjudgmental they are (of important stuff, obviously they’ll still poke fun at small stuff) that he feels comfortable dropping little comments here and there, opening up.
Ussop will be comforting Nami about something and sanji will tell him is so refreshing to see a man be so nurturing. He goes to Ussop often, asking how he’s so confident sharing his emotions.
Nami will be ordering them around and he’ll do everything she says with a smile, just happy to see her free to do what she wants (which is be a bossy bitch)
Zoro will talk about Kuina one night and Sanji will sob, overwhelmed with joy that she got to have all that strength and a friend like zoro even when faced with hurtful gender expectations.
Luffy above all is the most jarring for him. He grew up hearing about sin and sinners and temptation and evil but when he sees Luffy doing his thing, taking down bad people, fighting for the underdog, he knows that if there is a God (he she it they? Who cares), Luffy is doing their work.
——————
Bonus Gay Cherry on top is that Sanji meets Iva and gets into drag, starts performing, does some events, and through that gender liberation is able to find some peace in who he is, tucking away all the hate he was born into. And he ends up with zoro the end bye
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jnoll · 1 year
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two fjords
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sttm99 · 4 months
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Part 2 here!
'Fuck.'
It had been just two nights since you'd given him head in the dark of his dorm room, and Bakugo hadn't been able to rid his mind of the sensation ever since.
He knew it was stupid to even agree to it. You were the one girl in class he felt comfortable enough to talk about anything with. Be it grades, his fears and even more sexual topics. It also helped that he knew you wouldn't ever judge him for anything.
You were his closest friend; more so than Kirishima. And he liked that... he liked that he has someone he could trust with his life, someone he could relate with so effortlessly.
And you felt the same way with him. You told him everything; every little secret, every dirty detail, and he never laughed or judged.
Which was why you both were in his room, many hours past his bedtime, sitting opposite each other on his bed as you recounted your most recent almost-sexual endeavor.
"-and it was so awkward cause it was just hanging there in my face and I didn't know what to do." You groaned out, with your body hunched over, face covered with your palms as you recounted your experience in the school's storage room with a General Studies boy you'd been seeing casually.
Bakugo chuckled at your demeanor from where he was. "Yeah then maybe you should have stopped him when you saw him undoing his fucking belt."
You glared at him through the cracks between your fingers.
"Seriously," he laughed. "If you didn't wanna give him head, you should have told him the moment you entered the closet."
You groaned and fell back unto his bed. "The thing is I want to do it."
You turned your head to stare up at Bakugo.
"So why didn't you?"
You groaned again. "I don't know. I mean... look, I wanna be able to make the guy I like feel good, you understand. And I really thought I wanted to give him head, but then he was pulling his jeans down- and I was getting cold feet and then he pulled down his boxers and I wanted to run away right then....
"But I pushed through- and I got down... and it was just staring at my face and-"
"Maybe you just don't wanna do it." Bakugo raised his brow, cutting you off from your rambling.
You frowned. "Maybe. I mean, I think about giving head...and I wanna do it, and then I get an opportunity and I panic. You're probably right."
There was silence for a moment, before Bakugo shifted in his position, pulling his knees higher up, closer to his body, and leaning his forward.
"Or maybe... you don't wanna do it with him."
You furrowed your brows. "Meaning..? I don't really like him or what?"
Bakugo shrugged, "I mean, do you?"
You began sitting up. "Don't I?"
"Come on, Y/N." He raised a brow, giving you an unimpressed look, "You don't even text him unless he texts you."
"Yeah because he's always texting me."
"See! You even say it like you're frustrated." Bakugo jutted his arms out at you.
You paused, sitting up and pondering it.
Bakugo groaned. "Listen, I know you, okay? You- frankly, you're horny... more so than most people-"
You scowled at him.
"-and the fact that you don't even let him put his hands under your fucking skirt most times should tell you that you're probably not all that sexually attracted to him."
You stared at Bakugo, eyes narrowed as you began to see his point. "I guess you're on to something."
"Look," he began, "I honestly think you're just with him because of how aggressively he pursued you. And that's fucking dumb."
You pouted. "I guess... so now I have to find someone else to practice head with."
"Why do you wanna learn how to give head?" He laughed.
"Cause the girls were talking about giving head one time and I wanna be able to join in conversations." I groaned out, exasperated, and flopped back unto your back.
Bakugo took a moment to look you over, before adjusting his shorts and clearing his throat.
"I can give you pointers if you want."
Silence.
"What?" You mumbled, sitting back up, with your weight on your palms and narrowing your eyes at him.
He scowled at you. "I'm not repeating myself."
You rolled your eyes and hissed at his stubbornness. "You idiot."
"But..." You started slowly. "If you're offering to give me tips on sucking dick, I don't mind."
He shifted a bit. "Yeah... well- it'll only work if you're sexually attracted to me. If not, it'll just be like with that guy earlier- and shit would be awkward." He was looking away now.
"Wanna find out?"
And that was how he found himself heaving against his headboard with his shorts and boxers flung at the far end of his bed.
"Shitshit- fuck Y/N."
His hands were fisted into your hair, knees raised in the hair and thighs spread on either side of your head, as you laid on your stomach before him, nose pressed into his dark blonde pubic hair and lips wrapped tightly around his dick.
His eyes were blown wide, lips parted as grunts forced their way out his mouth.
It was just bordering on too much; the sensation of your mouth, and he'd suddenly realised how seriously you'd taken his analogy.
-"Consider it a bottle of smoothie or something, and there's that chunk that can't pass through the bottle mouth properly, so you're trying to suck it out." He'd said, holding his already hard dick against your cheek.
"That sounds stupid, Katsuki." You retorted, as you scowled up at him.
"That's the best I got, I ain't some sex therapist, okay!"-
"Oh shit- you're good," he groaned out, head thrown back and thighs quivering. "Fuck- fuck! Fuck, you're fucking good, baby. Just like that, yeah..!"
His grip on your hair tightened, pushing you down on his dick so he could feel the sliding of your tongue on his shaft as he dipped into your throat.
It didn't help that you were drooling all over him- and yourself-, your hand cupping his balls and squeezing softly.
He was going into overdrive, thrusting up unto your mouth, his eyes rolling back as he slipped down your throat over and over again, and he moaned as he felt you gag, your throat constricting against his tip.
He brought his head forward to peek over at you.
"Slut," he groaned out, eyeing your positioning; one hand infront of you, playing with his balls, and the other stretched underneath your body, fingers dipping into your sleepshorts. "You fucking slut- you like this shit, don't you?"
You moaned around his dick, vibrations coursing round his veins and your eyes looking up to meet his; lids hanging heavy and pupils blown out as you sucked on his cock.
He came heavy- hard. With spasming thighs and choked out groans as he spurted his seed down your throat.
It was a lot... too much. He kept spurting out his cum and his sight was blurry as he looked at you.
Now he couldn't look at you without remembering your stupid, fucked expression when you were between his legs. And it's weird, because all you're doing is grinning an Sato as you hover around him whilst he bakes.
It's stupid. He knows it is.
You don't even like him that way.
Part 2 has been posted here!
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punkshort · 4 months
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i'll be home for christmas | part one
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Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: Having just caught your fiancé cheating on you, you decide to come back home from the big city to Austin for the month of December to try to figure out your next step. You had no idea you would be getting more than you bargained for with the handsome single dad who built your parents' house.
Chapter Warnings: no outbreak, modern day but Joel is 40, language, fluff, flirting, reader has a childhood nickname only her family uses, Hallmark tropes up the wazoo, soft!joel, reader's sister is pregnant, talks of infidelity, talks of divorce, alcohol use, kissing, (smut in part two)
WC: 9.1K
A/N: this is my take on a cheesy, fluffy, soft, smutty, Joel Miller Hallmark Christmas movie. It's just sweet and silly and makes me smile, and I hope it does the same for you. I also wrote this in less than 2 days and didn't really edit it much, so sorry in advance if there's any errors.
Found the pic on Twitter but can't remember the source, if you know please send me a message and i will credit them
Series Masterlist
It was the second week of December as you stood inside the airport in Austin, Texas, waiting for your luggage to emerge on the conveyor belt. You thought by coming home early, you would have avoided the holiday traffic, but you were wrong. All around you, people squealed with excitement and embraced, dragging their worn out luggage behind them as they made their way out of the bustling airport. You tried to keep the scowl from your face as you watched, but it was next to impossible, so you wrapped your Burberry scarf around your neck instead, hoping to hide your displeasure.
This was not the plan you had for Christmas. You should be in New York in a high-rise apartment in front of a roaring fireplace with a glass of wine and your fiancé - ex-fiancé - not back in Austin with your parents, who begged you to come visit for the holidays after you told them the news.
Coming home to visit wasn't your favorite thing, but you felt guilty having avoided the holidays with your family for so many years, and you would have ended up all alone in the city anyway. So you caved, using up all the PTO you saved for the wedding, and took the rest of the year off from work.
Your designer luggage stood out like a sore thumb when it tumbled down the conveyor belt. You winced after watching the impact and snatched it up quickly. Glancing around, you saw a beacon in the storm: a familiar green, glowing sign in the distance - Starbucks. The line was long, but your flight was early, so you waited and got a latte, hoping it would lift your spirits a bit before you had to face your parents.
You tapped the side of your coffee cup anxiously as you rode the escalator down to the first floor, scanning the crowd for your mom and dad. There were a few people holding up signs with names on them, and when you saw the sign that said "Bucket" on it, you cringed.
Your dad's tall, round frame came into view when the people in front of him dispersed. He looked almost exactly the same, except a little greyer. Still sporting a shockingly full head of hair and his signature thick mustache, he grinned and pulled you into a warm hug.
"Really, Dad? 'Bucket'?"
"Well, that's what we call you, ain't it?" he said with a smile. You rolled your eyes and tried to be annoyed, but you had to admit that you were happy to see him.
"Where's Mom?" you asked.
"She's waitin' in the car, didn't wanna pay for parking so we're in a pick up zone, let's hustle," he said, wrapping his arm around you as he led you outside. "How was the flight?"
"Long," you said, then gasped when the cold air hit you. "Wow, I didn't think it would be this cold yet."
"It's been a cold one so far this year," he nodded, directing you to the left where you could see your mom smiling and waving from the passenger seat of their white SUV. You waved back and grinned. Maybe coming home wasn't such a bad idea, after all.
"Hiya, Bucky!" your mom said happily, leaning out of the window to give you a half hug while your dad loaded up your belongings in the back.
"Hey, Mom," you replied. "I like your sweater."
She was wearing one of her tacky Christmas sweaters that she wore every year - unironically. It amazed you how some things never change.
You climbed into the back seat as your dad carefully exited the parking spot and joined the line of cars that were slowly inching towards the main road.
"We're so glad you decided to come home this year, you can finally see the new house!" your mom said excitedly. They had built a brand new house, and the way she provided updates and pictures to you over the phone for the past year, you felt like you had already seen it.
"Yeah, can't wait," you said, staring out the window.
"Hope you don't mind, but we're throwin' a party tomorrow night," your dad said, glancing at you in the review mirror. "Wanted to have our friends over to see the place and have an early holiday party. They'll be so happy to see you, it's been so long since you've been home, Buck."
You had been hoping to spend most of the next three weeks in bed moping and scrolling on your phone. The thought of a party and seeing all those people looking at you with pity made your stomach turn. Your mom must have sensed your discomfort.
"It's alright, honey. They won't say anything," she said softly, and you squeezed your eyes shut.
"Okay," you replied, your voice pained as you opened your eyes to stare at the passing traffic on the thruway.
You'll make an appearance for an hour, and then try to sneak back upstairs until the party ends, already fabricating a headache to blame it on.
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The house your parents built was impressive, even you had to admit. It was a two story colonial with four bedrooms and three bathrooms. The open floor plan was stunning as you made your way from room to room. The first floor alone had a spacious living room with vaulted ceilings, a kitchen with an attached dining room, and a separate family room off the back. There was even a small office by the front door that you missed the first time around, and a pantry as big as your closet back home.
You cringed at the thought, reminding yourself that it was no longer your home. That was part of the problem. You had moved in with Will, and when you discovered he had been cheating on you, you crashed at your friend Melanie's place. When you tearfully told your parents the news a few days later, they asked you to come home. Just for the holidays, your mom had said. Just to give you time to figure out your next move.
"This is beautiful, Mom," you said honestly, admiring the fine details on the cabinets.
"Thank you, sweetie. Took a long time, but Joel built it just right for us," she said, beaming.
"Oh, the contractor, right?" you replied, distracted now by the backsplash above the counters.
"He's such a sweet man, he was so patient with us when we changed our minds a million times over every little thing."
"Well, tell him he did a great job," you murmured, opening and shutting different drawers.
"You can tell him yourself, he'll be at the party tomorrow," your dad said, opening the fridge to scrounge for some snacks.
"You invited your contractor to your holiday party?" you asked in disbelief.
"Sure we did. We either saw him or spoke to him almost every single day for a year. He's a good man."
"Okay," you said slowly, still finding it a bit strange, but reminding yourself that things worked a little differently in the south.
"Bucket!" you heard your sister call from the front of the house. A smile plastered across your face instantly as you rushed to the door, both of you squealing as you wrapped your arms around each other and jumped in a circle, unable to contain your excitement.
"Cassie!" you said, pulling back to look at her, brushing her sleek, dark brown hair over her shoulder. "You look fantastic!"
"Ugh, I feel like shit," she said, and you laughed, glancing down at her barely swollen belly.
"How far along are you again?" you asked.
"Twenty weeks, but I'm ready for this to be over! I'm so tired all the time, it sucks," she said, flopping down on the couch in the living room after she gave your parents quick hugs.
"Where's Josh?" your mom asked, referring to your brother in law.
"He's still working, he'll be by later," Cassie said, waving her hand. "Gives us a chance to catch up," she added with a wink.
"You girls do that, we need to go to the store for tomorrow night. Do you need anything?" your mom asked, and you shook your head, eager for them to leave so you could be alone with your sister.
"Tell me everything," Cassie said the moment the door clicked shut.
If it were anyone else, you wouldn't have been in the mood to talk about the mess that was currently your life, but you've always been able to talk about anything with your sister. You trusted each other implicitly and there was no judgement, no matter if you had cheated on a test or gotten drunk during prom, you told each other everything.
So you did. You told her how for months, you felt like something was off with Will. How he would stay out late and say it was for work, but none of his work friends ever posted about going anywhere those nights on social media. He grew more distant and you tried to ignore your paranoia, but when he collapsed into bed one night, too out of it to wash up, and you saw the lipstick on his neck the next morning, you lost it. He hardly even tried to explain himself, barely even attempted to lie, and you began to think maybe he wanted to get caught. Maybe he wanted you to do the dirty work and end things so he didn't have to. Fucking coward.
"What a piece of shit. I never liked him," Cassie said when you were finished. "He acted like he was so much better than everyone when he was here, do you remember the comments he made about the wine mom had? It was so fucking rude."
"Yeah, I know," you agreed.
"So why were you even with him?"
"We had been together since college, Cas," you said, exasperated. "I knew him before he was like that. He used to be sweet and fun. Then he got that finance job and met all those assholes and he became just like them."
"Well, I'm just glad you didn't end up married before finding out what he's really like," she said, shifting her weight on the couch with her hand cupping her small stomach. "That would have been a huge mess."
"It's still a huge mess, I have no where to live now, and I can only couch surf for so long," you said, burying your face in your hands.
"You'll figure it out, Buck. I'll help you look for places online while you're here. Maybe set up some appointments so you can tour them when you get back."
"Thanks," you said, giving her a weak smile. "That would actually be great."
"Now, on to more important things," your sister said, slapping her palms against her knees to stand.
"Baby names?" you asked.
"No! Let's figure out what you'll wear to the party tomorrow," she said, wiggling her eyebrows. "I wanna look through all your fancy designer clothes."
You giggled and stood to join her.
"Fine, but I'm still dropping baby names while you look," you replied.
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After spending a majority of the next day helping your parents decorate and prepare food for the party, you finally were able to excuse yourself to shower and get ready. Cassie had picked out a Ralph Lauren lace cocktail dress that Will had bought for your birthday last year. You slipped it on, running your hands over the fabric as you adjusted the dress in the mirror. Just because he bought it didn't mean you couldn't wear it again. You snatched the glass of wine from your dresser and took a sip, trying to push the thought of him from your head as you made your way downstairs.
Cassie and Josh were already in the kitchen, munching on appetizers and chatting with your parents. Cassie let out a low whistle when you entered the room. You waved her off and gave Josh a big hug and kiss on the cheek.
"Good to see you," you told him with a smile. "All ready for the baby?"
"Getting there," Josh replied, wrapping an arm around Cassie's waist. You tried to ignore the ugly, jealous pit in your stomach as he told you how the nursery was coming along. You wasted so many years of your life on Will. Your sister was already married and starting a family, and here you were, basically homeless and starting over. Pathetic.
Family friends slowly began to trickle into the house, luckily being whisked away by your parents to give them a tour after you meekly greeted them and hid back in the kitchen. As more and more people arrived, you began to wonder how your parents kept so many close friends when you barely had a handful back in New York.
A few kids raced by you in the kitchen as you made your way to the bar to refill your wine. Even though it was loud, you could still hear your dad's booming voice as he regaled a friend with a fishing story. You wandered around a bit, trying to find Cassie and Josh so you didn't look out of place, but stopped dead in your tracks when you saw them chatting with Mr. Tanner and his son, Troy, backing away before they could see you. Troy used to have the biggest crush on you when you were kids. If he found out you were single, you wouldn't be able to shake him all night.
You eventually found yourself alone, back in front of the snacks. You picked at the chips on your plate, not really interested in eating but hoping to avoid any awkward conversations, so you kept your eyes down, scrolling mindlessly on your phone. Apparently, it wasn't good enough because you felt someone sidle up next to you.
"Those any good?" a deep, unfamiliar drawl spoke from your side. You looked up to find the softest pair of brown eyes you've ever seen on a man. Blinking, you took a moment as your gaze raked over his patchy beard and the dark, tousled curls on his head. They looked so soft, you had to resist the urge to reach out and touch them. What was wrong with you?
"Huh?" you managed to squeak out after you realized you had waited too long to reply. Idiot.
"The, uh, chips," he said, pointing at your plate before rubbing the back of his neck.
"Oh!" you said, looking at your plate, completely forgetting you even had it. "Yeah, they're alright."
He nodded and glanced around the room, unsure of what to say next. He cleared his throat and tried again.
"How do you know Paul and Martha?"
Distracted, you watched as he crossed his arms over his broad chest, stretching the fabric of his red flannel over his shoulders, pulling the material taught. You had to remind yourself to pay attention and stop gawking at this man like he was a piece of meat. Jesus, maybe you should stop drinking.
"They're my parents," you said after a moment, your eyes flicking across the room, finding them with a group of their friends with your dad's arm wrapped around your mom's shoulder as she giggled and gazed up at him adoringly.
"Oh, you're Cassie," the man said, his eyes dropping from your face to your stomach, and you swore you saw a glimmer of disappointment.
"No!" you said quickly, your hand subconsciously resting on your midsection. "That's my sister, I'm their other daughter." You told him your name and briefly explained you lived in New York and were just visiting for the holidays.
"They must be real happy, havin' you home for so long," he replied, and you shrugged.
"Yeah, it's been a while since I've come home for a visit. I was feeling pretty bad about that," you said, choosing to leave out the biggest reason you were there. This stranger didn't need to be burdened with your love life drama. "Besides, they were so excited to show off the new house," you continued, waving your arm around the room.
"Took us long enough, but it finally came together," he replied with a smile.
"Oh! You must be Joel," you said, realization finally dawning on you.
"Yeah, sorry," he said, shaking his head and stretching out his arm. "That was rude of me, don't know what I was thinkin'." His cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you shook his hand.
"My parents always have such wonderful things to say about you. The house is beautiful, I was blown away when I first saw it," you told him. "I especially love the little details on the cabinets."
"Thanks," he said with a soft smile, averting his gaze to look at the cabinet behind you. "I actually did that myself. It's kind of a hobby of mine. Closest to art I'll ever get, I guess."
"I don't think it's just 'close' to art, I think it is art. It's stunning," you told him, running your fingertips over the intricate floral design. "You're very talented."
"Well, thank you," he said sheepishly, rubbing his beard to hide his smile. You could see the blush creeping up his neck and you bit your lip with a grin, turning your head to try to give him a moment. Were you making him nervous? He was painfully good looking, could this guy actually be into you? Were you even interested? The break up was still so fresh and it had been so long since you've dated anyone besides Will, you hadn't even considered it yet.
"So, how long have you worked in construction?" you asked after a minute, discarding your plate on the counter to give him your full attention.
"Oh, my whole life. Me and my brother started the business when we were in our twenties. Only thing we were any good at, and luckily it pays the bills," he told you with a shrug, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. "What do you-"
Joel's question was cut off by a young girl with curly brown hair in a red velvet dress bouncing up to him.
"Dad! Can Uncle Tommy take me outside so we can look at the pool?" she asked. Dad? You looked down when he pulled his hands out of his pockets, palming one of the girl's shoulders to quiet her down, and noticed the gold wedding band. Of fucking course.
"The pool? Sarah, it's freezin' out," Joel said, and she grinned.
"I'm not going in, Dad, I just wanna see," she said, rolling her eyes. She glanced over, noticing you for the first time, and smiled. "I really like your dress," she said.
"Thank you," you said, running your hand down the fabric. "I like yours, too."
"Uh, yeah, that's fine. Just make sure Uncle Tommy sticks with you, alright?" Joel relented, and she clapped her hands gleefully before running off again.
"She's cute, how old is she?" you asked him, looking around the room to see if Sarah had run back to a woman who could be Joel's wife.
"She's sixteen," he said, eyeing you carefully. He hadn't thought this far ahead and hoped he wasn't scaring you off.
You turned to him, startled, having guessed she was younger.
"You must have had her young," you said, the words slipping out before you could catch them. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean that like it sounded-"
"No, it's alright," he said with a chuckle. "I did. I'm forty."
You nodded and took a sip from your glass, letting your eyes drift away, rethinking your conversation. Maybe you misread him and he was just being friendly. There was no way he would be flirting with you at a party with his kid right there. But then he cleared his throat, drawing your attention back to him.
"Listen, I hope I'm not bein' too forward, but are you here with anyone?"
You raised your eyebrows at him over your glass. There was no misreading that. Blinking rapidly, you tried to formulate a reply that wouldn't cause a scene. Was he seriously hitting on you with a ring on his finger? You put your glass down on the counter and opened your mouth to reply when your sister's voice interrupted you.
"Bucket! Come here, you remember Troy, right?"
You cringed, at both the nickname and the person in question, before slowly turning your body towards her and forcing a fake smile.
"Of course. How are you?" you said with a hug.
"Doing great, just got a new job with a law firm downtown," Troy said, rubbing his sweaty palms on his jeans and shifting his weight nervously. He began to ramble about his new job as your sister introduced herself to Joel behind you. You resisted the urge to strangle her, reminding yourself she was carrying your baby niece or nephew and that you'll have to wait until after she gave birth to kill her. She knew you couldn't stand Troy, but she probably couldn't get rid of him, either.
You stood there, draining your wine glass while he prattled on for the next twenty minutes. By the time Troy's dad walked over and ushered him away, Joel was nowhere to be found.
Probably for the best, anyway. You were getting really sick and tired of only attracting unfaithful men.
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You hadn't considered how annoying it would be to have your parents hovering around you all the time, worried that you were slipping into a depression and trying to get you to join them on activities outside the house. After you felt forced to go sledding with them the day before, you decided to make yourself scarce today, which is why you found yourself at the mall in downtown Austin browsing for a Christmas gift for your future niece or nephew.
As you were looking through a storefront window, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. Taking it out, you saw a text from a friend back home.
Sydney: You'll never guess who i just bumped into
You were typing out your response, chin tucked into your chest, when you felt someone knock into you. Startled, you looked up only to lock eyes with Joel the contractor.
"Oh!" you managed to stammer out. His deep brown eyes lit up and a warm smile spread across his face when he looked up and recognized you.
"Sorry, wasn't payin' attention," he said. "How, uh, how are you?"
"Good," you said, nodding and clutching your phone in your hand. "You?"
"Good. Was actually just thinkin' about you," he admitted, looking down and shifting the bag he was carrying from one hand to the other. "Never got to say goodbye to you the other night."
"Yeah, it was pretty crowded. I didn't realize my parents were so popular," you joked. "Is Sarah with you?"
"No, she's in school," he replied, and you bumped the heel of your hand against your forehead, rolling your eyes. Of course she was, it's the middle of the day.
"Duh," you said quietly, finding it hard to hold his gaze without getting butterflies, so you looked away.
"So, uh, I hope this doesn't sound creepy, but I asked your sister if you were seein' anyone the other night," he began, and you felt your face instantly heat up. Why didn't Cassie warn you?? "-was wonderin' if I could get your number."
"Huh?" you asked, your eyes widening as you tried to control your breathing. You glanced down at his hand again when he looked away and saw he was definitely wearing a ring.
"Thought we could go out sometime? If you're interested?" he asked, his own nerves wreaking havoc as he shifted his weight and chewed on the inside of his cheek, praying his face wasn't as red as it felt.
"Are you serious?" you asked him, narrowing your eyes. The audacity of some men!
"'Course I'm serious," he said with a nervous smile. "Thought we hit it off the other night-"
"Joel, listen. I'm not going to say what I'm really thinking for the sake of my parents and everything you did for them, but I am not interested in dating married men," you said with a scowl. He frowned, giving you a confused look before you turned on your heel and stormed away, joining the crowd of Christmas shoppers bustling by.
He looked down at his hand, making a tight fist before swiveling his head around, trying to locate you in the crowd before he lost you.
"Hey, wait!" he called out, pushing past clusters of people as he jogged to try and keep up with you. He called out your name as he got closer. You stopped suddenly but didn't turn around, causing surprised shoppers to have to redirect at the last minute to avoid running into you.
"Hey, I'm sorry-"
"You should apologize to your wife!" you said loudly, causing a few people to turn their heads in your direction as they walked past. Joel looked around nervously.
"I'm not married," he clarified quietly. You looked down at his hand again and he flexed his fingers.
"Can we get a coffee or somethin'? And I'll explain," he begged, his chest rising and falling rapidly with each second that passed as you considered your answer. "Please."
"Fine," you agreed, and his face relaxed once again.
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You sat down at a coffee shop within Barnes and Noble as Joel ordered you both something to drink. As you watched him at the counter, you admired his long legs and broad shoulders underneath his brown coat and wondered what possible excuse he was going to come up with.
Oh my god, what if she died?
You rubbed your eyes, hoping you didn't just insult a widower in the middle of a crowded mall.
Joel joined you at the table and set your coffee down in front of you with a smile.
"Thank you," you said softly, fiddling with the cup and avoiding his eyes as he shrugged his coat off, revealing a navy blue V-neck sweater underneath. Your eyes drifted to the small patch of bare chest that was exposed and your stomach clenched. Swallowing hard, you forced yourself to meet his gaze, but he was staring down at his ring finger.
"I'm not married anymore, just wanna make that crystal clear," he began, still staring at his ring.
"Okay," you said slowly, waiting for him to continue. He sighed.
"We've been divorced for a few years now," he said, finally looking at you. "It was... hard. Really hard. I, uh," he scratched his beard as he struggled to find the words. "I've had a tough time lettin' go. Thought for a while we might get back together, so I didn't take it off. Then I guess I just got so used to it, I never thought... I'm sorry, I sound like a mess," he said with a sad smile.
"It's alright, I think I understand," you told him, and he looked at you with renewed optimism, encouraged to continue.
"I never took it off because I never thought 'bout askin' anyone out til now," he said. "Didn't realize how that would come across, you just took me by surprise that night and I couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout you."
You blushed and looked down at your coffee, trying to hide your smile behind your cup, but he saw it and grinned.
"Are you still in love with her?" you asked him. You didn't want to get wrapped up in something that would end up hurting you in the end.
"No," he said firmly. "I mean, I'll always care for her. She gave me Sarah, how could I not? But I'm not in love with her anymore."
You nodded as you absorbed his words, glancing around the little coffee shop before dragging your eyes back to his. He was looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to ask anything else that would make you comfortable with accepting a date from him.
"Well, thank you for being honest with me, but I'm not sure I'm ready for a relationship just yet."
Joel tried to hide the disappointment in his face as he nodded in understanding. The first time in five years he asked someone out and he got shot down.
"It's not you," you clarified. "It's bad timing. I just got out of a really long term relationship. Well, I was actually engaged, and I caught him cheating," you explained with a wince, not expecting to bring this up today. "Probably why I was so sensitive about the wedding ring," you said with a half smirk. He nodded quietly and looked down at the ring on his hand, twisting the metal around with the pad of his thumb as you spoke.
"Sounds like we've both been through a tough time," he murmured, and you quietly agreed.
You sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping your coffees and trying to figure out how to end this awkward interaction without making things worse. You were going to lie about having plans so you could leave when he suddenly spoke up.
"No pressure, but, uh, what if we just went on one very casual date?" He looked at you with those soft, brown eyes and you felt your resolve crumbling. "Sounds like we could both use some practice. You're leavin' at the end of the month anyway. Could just be fun, help get us both back out there."
You paused, not expecting that. He had a good point. It's been so long since you've gone on a date with anyone, and it sounded like he was just as rusty. Besides, what else would you be doing with your time over the next three weeks?
"Okay," you agreed softly. He raised his eyebrows in surprise, parting his lips slightly as he straightened up in his chair.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," you said with a grin. "Why not?"
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Early the next morning, you heard your phone buzz on the nightstand next to your bed. With a groan, you cracked an eye open to look at the time, then reached for your phone.
"7:30? Who the hell..." you grumbled, squinting at the bright screen, your eyes widening when you saw Joel's name. You sat up in bed, fully awake now, and slid the notification over to open the text.
Joel Miller: Morning. Are you free tonight?
You grinned, flicking on your light so you could see better to respond, then you paused. Should you make him wait before replying? Would you look too desperate if you answered right away?
You shrugged, deciding to answer him. It was casual, you both knew it wouldn't go anywhere, so who cares how it looked?
You: Good morning, you're up early! And yes, what did you have in mind?
You chewed your thumb nail as you waited for his answer.
Joel Miller: This is nothing, I've been up since 5. For some reason, clients expect me to be at job sites early. How about ice skating?
You giggled and tapped out a reply.
You: I'd love to!
Joel Miller: Great - I'll pick you up at 7
Realizing you forgot to reply to Sydney the day before, you switched messages and shot her a quick answer before sliding back down under the covers to scroll on your phone.
You resisted the urge as long as you could - a whole fifteen minutes - before you typed Joel's name into Facebook. His name popped up with two mutual friends and you rolled your eyes. Of course your parents were friends with him. Clicking on his name, you scrolled down his page, tapping through photos of him and Sarah that looked out of date. He didn't seem like the type to update social media often, and his page reflected that hunch. He didn't have many pictures so it didn't take long until you scrolled all the way to the end, presumably his first photo from when he joined. It was a grainy picture of him with a huge smile and his arm slung around a woman with dark, curly hair, just like Sarah's.
She was pretty, you couldn't deny that, and you vaguely wondered why they broke up. He made it sound like he didn't want a divorce, and you figured he would have mentioned cheating since you brought it up.
You closed the app. If Joel wanted to tell you, he would.
Dragging yourself out of bed, you made your way downstairs on the hunt for coffee. Pouring yourself a cup from the machine, you burrowed into the couch, wrapping yourself in a blanket as you waited for your coffee to cool down and flipped through the various streaming services your parents subscribed to.
"Hey Buck, you're up early," your dad said as he descended the stairs and headed to the coffee.
"Hey, Dad," you said, taking a sip from your mug and wincing as you burned your tongue.
"What're you up to today? You wanna come to dinner with your mom and me?"
"Actually, I have a date," you told him, bracing for the reaction.
"Whoa-ho! Been here not even a week and you got yourself a date? Don't tell me... Troy?" he asked with a big grin, sitting down at the other end of the couch.
"Ew, no!" you said, scrunching your nose. "It's, um, Joel," you said quickly, taking another sip from your mug.
"Our contractor?" he asked incredulously.
"Yeah, we met at the party," you told him. "Then I ran into him at the mall."
"Ran into who at the mall?" you heard Cassie's voice from down the hall.
"When did you get here?" you asked as she rounded the corner and gazed at your coffee enviously.
"Just now. Who did you see at the mall?"
"Joel," you said, glaring at her. "Got something to tell me about that?"
"Oh, yeah," she said, wiggling her eyebrows. "He was asking about you at the party. I made sure to let him know you were single."
"Yeah, he told me, thanks for the heads up, by the way," you said. "We're going out tonight."
"I didn't realize he was single, I just assumed he was married because he's always got Sarah around," your dad said, beginning to zone out to the movie that was on the TV.
"He's single," was all you said, picking your phone back up.
"He's cute," Cassie said, and you blushed. "I'm glad you said yes, mom and dad already love him, so he'll fit right in."
"I don't even live here. It's a casual thing, we're just hanging out," you told her.
"Yeah, okay," she said, giving you a wink. You rolled your eyes and pinched her as you passed by.
"I'm going to shower, then maybe you can help me pick out something to wear," you told her over your shoulder, walking back upstairs.
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Joel arrived at your parents' house promptly at 7, just as he promised. He pulled into the driveway, checking his hair in the review mirror quickly before sliding out of his truck and making his way up the porch. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this nervous as he glanced down a the green flannel he wore, praying he didn't miss a button or a stain. He was with his ex for so long that he could barely remember a time when he was nervous around her.
But with you, he felt the butterflies the moment he saw you at the party. You didn't notice him at first, but he saw you enter the living room and freeze in the doorway, your eyes locked on someone across the room before backing out the way you came, as if you were looking to avoid them. He couldn't catch who it was, having hardly known more than five people in the whole house, but he felt compelled to follow you. To see if you were maybe looking for a husband or boyfriend. But when he saw you alone in the kitchen, staring down at your phone, he couldn't stop himself from saying something to you.
Joel never did things like that. He always kept to himself, very quiet and reserved. He was content with his work during the day and hanging out with Sarah at night.
For the most part, he was happy. It was only at night when the loneliness crept up, when he tucked himself into his big, cold bed and tried his best to fall asleep as fast as he could, so he wouldn't lay there wishing someone who cared for him was just in the bathroom washing up.
Tommy had been encouraging him to get back out there, always offering to watch Sarah if he caught Joel looking a little too long at a waitress or a neighbor. Sarah was old enough to be on her own for a few hours, but he still asked Tommy to stop by, anyway. Maybe part of him wanted his brother to know that he was going on a date, if only so he would stop trying to set him up all the time with women he had no interest in.
Joel reached out to ring the doorbell, cringing when he noticed it was one of those camera doorbells. Paul must have installed it after the house was finished. He heard heavy footsteps on the other side of the door and held his breath, realizing he hadn't thought about your dad's reaction to your date.
Paul swung the door open, greeting Joel with a deep scowl as he leaned up against the doorframe.
"What's up, Joel?" he asked. Joel cleared his throat.
"Hey, Paul. I'm here to pick up your daughter," Joel replied, bracing himself. Paul just stared at him, breathing deeply as he looked Joel up and down. Joel wasn't a small man, but Paul had at least sixty pounds on him. He tended to have an intimidating look until you got to know him.
"Oh, yeah? For what?" Paul asked, clenching his jaw. Joel froze, wondering if there was a reason you didn't tell your parents about tonight, unsure what to say. Finally, Paul's face broke into a huge smile as he began to crack up, doubling over at the waist.
"I'm sorry, Joel, I had to," he wheezed, standing back up and clapping Joel on the shoulder. "Couldn't help myself. Come on in," he said, still laughing as he led Joel down the hall and towards the kitchen.
"Jesus, Paul, scared the shit outta me," Joel admitted, his heart racing as he rubbed his forehead.
"Beer?" Paul asked, and Joel shook his head.
"No thanks, I'm drivin'," he replied, and Paul raised his eyebrows with a nod.
"Good man, passed the first test," he said with a wink as he twisted open a beer for himself. "Hey, uh, in all seriousness, I just wanna talk with you before she comes down."
"Yeah, 'course," Joel replied, leaning up against the counter.
"I ain't sure what she's told you about the asshole she was with before, but he really hurt her. Now, I know it ain't got nothin' to do with you, what's in the past is in the past," he said. "But just keep that in mind, will you? I can't stand seein' my little girl hurt like that again."
Joel nodded solemnly, understanding completely.
"I ain't like that, I'll be respectful, I promise," Joel replied. "Besides, we both know she's goin' back to New York in a few weeks. We're just gettin' to know each other, is all."
"Yeah, she said the same thing to her sister earlier, but then she spent all damn day on the phone, pickin' out an outfit and gettin' herself ready," Paul said with a sigh. "I'm just sayin', be careful with her."
Joel felt a flutter in his chest and tried to hide his smile when he found out you had been thinking about him all day. He was glad he wasn't the only one.
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"I hope you weren't waiting long," you told Joel as he backed out of your driveway.
"Not at all," he said with a smirk. "You're worth the wait. You look beautiful." He glanced down again at the light pink sweater with a small designer logo he was unfamiliar with in the corner.
You blushed and bit your lip, quietly thanking him and trying to hide your reaction behind your scarf, but he saw it. He always does.
Now that he knew you were looking forward to this date just as much as he was, he felt a little more confident.
"Did you have a good day?" he asked, giving you a sideways glance as he merged his truck into traffic.
"Yeah, did you?"
"It was alright," he said, slowing the truck down at a stop light. He turned to face you now. "Couldn't wait to see you, though."
You turned a darker shade of pink and he smiled, pleased to see that he could elicit that reaction from you, the same way you do to him.
"So, ice skating?" you said, trying to take the heat off of you. You looked at his hands on the steering wheel, noticing he made sure to take his ring off.
"Yeah," he said, pressing his foot on the gas as the light changed. "Thought you could teach me somethin'."
"Teach you? How do you know if I can even skate?" you asked teasingly.
"Just a hunch. Was I right?" he replied, his mouth turning up into a half smirk. You giggled and he felt his stomach tighten. He needed to hear that again.
"Yeah, you were right," you relented. He pulled his lower lip between his teeth and slapped the steering wheel in victory, making you giggle again, and his chest filled with warmth at the sound.
"Where's Sarah tonight?" you asked him as he pulled into a parking spot at the skating rink.
"My brother's watchin' her," he replied, disappointed that you got out of the truck so quickly. He had planned on opening the door for you.
"Does she like to ice skate?" you questioned as he led you inside to the counter to rent your skates.
"Oh, of course she does. But I usually sit it out and just watch her have fun," he said, picking up your rentals and heading over to a bench.
"You should have brought her, I wouldn't have minded."
"We don't have to talk 'bout her, you know," he said quicky, and your fingers froze over your laces.
"Why wouldn't we talk about her? She's your daughter," you asked slowly, straightening back up to look at him.
"No, I know. What I mean is, I know it ain't every woman's fantasy to go out with a single dad and all the baggage that comes with that. So, if you don't wanna talk about her, I get it," he said, casting his eyes down as he focused on tying his laces. You reached out a hand and gently placed it on top of his, immediately making him freeze at your touch.
"She's part of your life, so I want to hear about her. You shouldn't think like that, Joel. It's really not a dealbreaker for most women," you assured him, gently rubbing your thumb over his knuckles, his eyes glued to your hand as he listened. "And if it is, fuck 'em."
His eyes snapped up to yours now, then a slow smile spread across his face.
"Okay," he said softly, and you smiled, pulling your hand back, leaving him wanting more.
"Besides," you said, standing up on your skates as you made your way to the rink. "You have no idea what kind of fantasies I have."
You turned to give him a wink as you effortlessly stepped out onto the ice, holding out your hands encouragingly for him to follow. It was a miracle he was able to move his legs after that comment, but he managed just because he knew he would feel your warm hands on his again.
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Joel was a quick study. He was nervous at first, you could tell that he didn't want to embarrass himself, but he did surprisingly good. Especially considering how crowded the ice rink was and how fast people were skating by. After about half an hour, he was able to skate - albeit, slowly - around the rink next to you without any assistance. Part of you wondered if he pretended to need more help than he really did just so it would make you feel good.
"So, anyway, that's basically what I do for work. It's pretty boring," you said with a sigh.
"Not boring. Marketing in New York City sounds like a dream," he replied.
"Yeah, except I work on all the behind the scenes stuff. It's not really as fun as it sounds," you admitted, not missing work in the slightest since you've been back in Texas.
"Well, d'you work with some fun people, at least?"
You paused, considering his question for a moment, before shaking your head with a dry laugh.
"Not really," you said, but he still tried to help you find a reason why you would put up with it.
"You were able to take off almost a whole month, that's pretty great. Not many places'll let you do that, can't be that bad," he offered, and you scoffed.
"It's the time I saved up for the wedding I was supposed to have," you told him sadly, and he groaned.
"I'm knockin' it outta the park tonight, ain't I?" he said, rubbing his face before almost losing his balance. You giggled and he couldn't stop the huge grin that plastered itself across his face.
"It's fine, you didn't know," you said, waving him off. And for the first time, you really didn't mind talking about it. Something about him made it easier.
"What'dya say we get some hot chocolate?" Joel asked, jutting his chin towards the vendor where you first came in.
"Yeah, that sounds great," you replied. Joel turned towards the exit without looking when a teenage boy, who was speed skating around the rink trying to impress a girl, smacked right into him, sending him flying backwards on the ice.
"Joel!" you exclaimed, rushing to his side. He groaned, rubbing the back of his head.
"Hey, why don't you watch it!" you yelled angrily at the teenager, who had managed to only stumble a bit upon impact.
"Sorry, man," the kid mumbled before taking off.
"I'm gonna kick his ass," you said, about to stand up to go after him, but Joel reached up to grip your arms, holding you in place.
"I'm fine, sweetheart," he said with a chuckle. Sweetheart. Your heart skipped a beat at the term.
"Are you sure?" you asked, your brow furrowed with concern.
"Yeah, just gimme a hand," he said, and you stood to give his arm a firm yank, allowing him to stand.
"Let's get you off the ice," you told him, ushering him carefully to the exit and finding a bench.
"Does your head hurt?" you asked, sitting down next to him. Your fingers reached up to graze the back of his head.
"No," he said breathlessly, staring at you as you continued to study him for any injury. God, you were so beautiful, he couldn't force himself to look away.
"That's good. How about your vision?" you pressed, still so focused on the fall and not seeing the way he was looking at you. But when you finally locked your eyes on his, your breath caught in your throat.
All the laughter and playful yelling surrounding you faded. You couldn't look away from his heated gaze, his deep brown eyes boring into yours so intensely, you almost forgot to blink. He brought his hand up to gently cradle the side of your face, his calloused palm meeting your soft skin. Your lips parted to accommodate your sudden need for more oxygen, and his gaze fell to your mouth.
"Joel," you whispered, and the way his name sounded coming from you was so damn sweet, it almost did him in.
"Yeah?" he whispered back, swallowing the lump in his throat.
"Kiss me."
He didn't need to be told twice.
He leaned forward, eyes sliding shut and slotting his lips against yours, deeply breathing in your scent so he could remember it tomorrow. He was determined to commit every second to memory, knowing that by morning he would be aching for you, aching for this. Against his better judgement, he pressed himself into your lips harder, unsure if he will ever get to feel like this again when you inevitably came to your senses. The idea of this feeling being taken away from him spurred him on, desperate and eager for every second you were willing to give him.
Your hand came up to the back of his neck, holding him against you as his lips massaged yours tenderly. You inched closer to him on the bench so you could tuck yourself into his broad chest. He was so warm and soft and strong that it was making you dizzy. Your fingertips stroked the curls at the base of his neck as you tentatively opened your mouth just enough to suck his lower lip between yours. The quiet noise he made when you did that made your insides clench with need, and against all odds, you felt yourself falling, completely losing yourself in him and the moment.
A startling voice over the loudspeaker announcing that the rink was closing in fifteen minutes finally snapped you out of it. You both pulled back but kept your foreheads pressed together as the world around you slowly melted back into focus. His hand still cupped your face and he lifted his thumb to gently trace your swollen lips.
"I should take you home," he murmured. At first, your stomach flipped, thinking he meant his home, but you realized he wasn't that type and he meant your parents' house.
You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, and you sat back reluctantly, breaking away. His hand dropped from your face to the hand in your lap, his thick fingers wrapping around yours for a moment as he collected himself with a deep breath.
Finally, he forced himself to stand, still clutching your hand and helping you up. You glanced down at the floor and smirked.
"We should probably take our skates off," you said, and he chuckled, breaking the tension and sitting back down, his hand reluctantly letting go of yours to undo his laces.
After you turned in your rentals, his hand quickly found yours again, unwilling or unable to let you go as he led you back to his truck, this time making sure to open the car door for you. Thanking him quietly, you jumped up into the cab and watched him round the front of the car, running a hand through his hair and sucking in deep breath.
You grinned and bit your lip as he started the truck, swinging his arm around to grip your headrest and twisting his body to back out of the spot. It took everything in you not to scoot across the seat and tuck yourself into his side.
He let his arm drop loosely on the seat in between you as he drove down the street, one hand on the steering wheel. Your fingers inched forward, sliding your palm underneath his hand, lacing your fingers together. The corners of his mouth tugged into a smile and you drove in a comfortable silence, your hands intertwined the whole time, until he pulled into your driveway and cut the engine.
You sighed as you stared at the darkened house, already missing him and he wasn't even gone yet. He peered over at you, trying to think of a way to prolong the date, but aside from the obvious, which he wasn't going to do just yet, he was coming up empty.
"Lemme walk you up," he said finally, and you nodded, reaching for the handle of the door but he stopped you. You furrowed your brow, confused, until you watched him rush over to open the door, and you grinned, taking his hand so you could slide out of the seat.
You stared at the ground as he led you up the path to the porch, your heart pounding in your ears. You weren't sure what you had been expecting tonight, but it definitely wasn't this feeling. This was so much more.
"Well, thank you for tonight," you said as you reached the door, turning around to look up at him through your lashes. "I had a really good time."
"Yeah, me too," he said, his soft, brown eyes trailing over your face, locking away every little detail. Unable to resist, he stepped forward, his rough hand skimming around to the back of your neck. He tilted your face up, ducking down slightly to meet you halfway and brushed his lips gently over yours.
Your hands flew up to grip the collar of his flannel, keeping him pressed against you as you leaned against the front door. God, for someone who claimed to be rusty, he was a really good kisser. He was gentle and slow and it took your breath away both times. You knew you were getting in over your head, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. All you could think about was him and how badly you wanted more.
Nervously, you opened your mouth and flicked your tongue against his plush lips. He responded by parting his lips and allowing your tongue to dance with his own, his mouth applying more pressure than before as the heat flared between you.
Before you could stop it, a soft moan rumbled from your throat, causing him to pull back, panting slightly as his gaze flickered between your eyes. You gazed up at him, eyes dark and desperate, your fingers still gripping the fabric of his shirt tightly.
You weren't sure what he was searching for, but after a moment he seemed to find it because his mouth came crashing down on yours once again, this time with more yearning and desire. His tongue probed inside your mouth, licking past your teeth and in the back of your mind you realized he tasted faintly of mint and you wondered when on earth he popped a mint into his mouth but it didn't matter. Nothing else mattered except the two of you in that moment, each seeking something within the other that you never expected to find.
His chest ached knowing he would have to stop kissing you soon, or else he would never leave. He always considered himself a strong man, after everything he had been through, how could he not? But something about you made him realize he wasn't nearly as strong as he thought. Your lips were so soft compared to his, so sweet and perfect that it made him want to cry because in that moment, he knew he could never let you go.
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scuderiahoney · 24 days
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Pick You Up
Max Verstappen x reader
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Masterlist
Summary: when Max has one too many gin & tonics, you’re the one who picks (him) up, every time he calls. Word Count: 6.7k
Warnings: alcohol, intoxication, maybe an unhealthy relationship with alcohol??, mentions of Max’s shitty childhood, incorrect taylor swift lyrics
It’s 1am, and your phone is buzzing on the nightstand. You groan and shove your face into the pillow. You were having such a nice dream. Something about an island and a very attractive man. You let the phone ring until it stops, and then you hold your breath. Maybe it was a butt dial. Maybe it’s not what you think.
The buzzing starts again, and you blindly slam your hand onto the nightstand, grabbing for it. You swipe to answer without even looking at the contact. You already know who it is. Or at the very least, who they’re calling you about. It’s never anyone else.
“Max needs a ride,” a friend of his says.
You’re already rolling out of bed. “Yeah. Where?”
You could complain, you suppose, as you pull on a pair of sweatpants and a jacket. You could ask them to find literally anyone else, or beg them to have a designated driver for once, but instead you just slip your shoes on. You rub the sleep from your eyes and grab a Red Bull on the way out the door. Someone sends you an address from a number you don’t even have saved in your phone. Worry claws at your chest.
The truth is, you’ll never complain about Max calling you in the middle of the night, because if he stopped calling you’d worry about who he was relying on. Max is… popular. He’s got a lot of people trying to ride his coattails. He gets invited to events and people buy him drinks and offer him things and then it’s 1am and he’s too drunk to get home on his own. And then he calls you. Or, more often, someone calls you for him.
You pull up in front of the club, and Max is already outside, stumbling on clumsy feet. He lurches towards your car when he sees it, which is a relief, because you hadn’t exactly wanted to get out of the car. You find yourself resenting whoever he was out with for leaving him all alone, but he opens the door and climbs in and you plaster a smile onto your face.
“Hi, schatje,” he slurs, and you muffle a laugh into your shoulder.
“Hi, Maxie,” you say.
This is the only time he calls you things like that. It’s also the only time you can call him Maxie without earning yourself a warning glare, or worse, an elbow to the rib cage. You’ve known him for years, and yet it’s only when he’s wasted that he doesn’t mind the nickname.
“Seatbelt,” you remind him.
He nods and tugs at the belt. You end up having to help him buckle- that happens about 70% of the time. His fingers fumble with the latch as you do so, and he lets out a little huff when you brush his hand away. Once he’s all set, you pat his shoulder lightly and lean back into your seat.
“I’m drunk,” he warns you.
“I know,” you answer.
“So no crazy driving. I don’t want to be sick in your very nice car.”
You laugh and cock your head at him. “This morning you called this car a shitbox.”
He nods. “It is. But it is your shitbox.”
You laugh again, putting the car into drive. “Let’s get you home, yeah?”
He rambles the whole drive to his apartment, about all the people he was out with tonight and what they did and who they did. Drunk Max is a bit of a gossip, and his gossiping to you won’t get him in trouble, so he takes full advantage of it. You listen eagerly the entire time, though you keep your eyes focused on the road. He’s not the most drunk you’ve ever seen him, still too drunk to be in a cab or an Uber by himself but coherent enough that the journey up to his apartment shouldn’t be too difficult. You park your car in his parking lot and climb out.
Max is halfway out of his seat when you come around to meet him. You take his hand and help him the rest of the way up. He stumbles a bit, laughing as you catch him. Then he throws his arm around your shoulder and follows you to the elevator.
His head bumps into yours in the process. You lean into the weight of him, the two of you standing like a badly built lean to. If one of you topples, the other will too. You try not to think about that too much.
You stay the night, the way you always do when this happens. Because the only thing a hungover Max hates more than the sunlight is waking up to an empty apartment. You’ll be there in the morning to take care of him. He’ll promise he won’t do it again.
By this time next week, he’ll be out at a club, and you’ll have the volume on your phone turned up.
…..
The next time someone calls you on Max’s behalf, it’s someone you actually know. It’s 2am this time, and your eyes are closed. You’re drifting in that space between consciousness and dreams. Your ringtone almost becomes a part of a half dream before you realize what it is. You turn the phone over. NoRizzz, it reads. You think Max added the contact for you.
You answer. “Hi, Lando. S’it Max?” You ask.
“I swear to god I lost track of him for one second-“ Lando rushes out.
You pause halfway out of bed, feeling a jolt of worry at the frantic tone in his voice. “Lando?”
“He’s gone, he-“ He sounds panicked. “I turned around and he’s-“
“Did you call him?”
“Of course I called him-“ Lando scoffs. “Look, I wouldn’t be so worried if I hadn’t already been thinking about having you pick him up-“
“Hey, hey, slow down,” you say, though your heart is racing as you head for the door. “Where are you? How long has it been since you lost him?”
“We’re at Jimmyz, it’s been a half hour,” Lando admits. “I didn’t want to bother you, but-“
A half hour is a long time for Max. He could be anywhere in the city right now. He could’ve walked, or taken a cab, or… anything. Sober Max is great at self preservation. Drunk Max is easily persuaded. You’ve used it to your advantage more than you’d like to admit. Not in any bad way, just- Max, sing karaoke with me! Max, come dance with me! Max, we should order pizza!
You head for the front door. “Okay. It’s okay. I’ll come meet you, and then-“
You swing the door open and nearly scream when something heavy tumbles into your apartment. Someone, actually, upon further inspection. It’s Max, lit only by the dim hallway light and a beam from the kitchen light that you always leave on. He’s blinking up at you from the floor, a soft smile on his face. He has his arms wrapped around himself, like he’s cold. His skin is damp with sweat.
“Never mind, I found him,” you say into the phone.
“What? How?” Lando asks, bewildered.
“He was sitting in front of my door,” you answer as you crouch down. You card your fingers through his sweaty hair, and Max smiles. “Must’ve taken a cab or something.”
“I walked,” Max admits.
That explains the sweat. That also tells you that Lando has lied to you- Max has been gone much longer than a half hour if he’s made his way here on foot. You choose not to call the other driver out on it, though. You want them to call you about things like this. If you chew him out, Lando will be less likely to do so.
“So he’s okay?” Lando asks.
“He’s fine,” you assure him. “I’ll talk to you later.”
You hang up and then start working on getting Max all the way into the apartment. He’s not much help. You manage to get his legs inside and then you close the door behind him. You’ll work on getting him out of the hallway next. For now, you sit down on the floor next to him.
“You walked here?” You ask.
He nods. “Missed you.”
You snort out a laugh. “You could’ve called me, I would’ve picked you up.”
He shrugs and shuts his eyes. “Didn’t want to bug you.”
“So you camped out in front of my door,” you say.
“Yes. But then you didn’t have to come pick me up.”
“I’ll always pick you up,” you say, brushing your thumb against his temple. “That’s what friends do.”
When he opens his eyes, they’re glassy. Your breath hitches. Max doesn’t get teary often, doesn’t get emotional often. Something aches in your chest. You rub your thumb over his cheekbone. He blinks once, twice, lashes tangled together.
“You okay?” You ask.
“Yeah.” He sounds so small when he says it. “Just. Thanks.”
There are these small moments, when Max shows a vulnerable side. These are the moments you think of when people spread vitriol towards him on the internet and ask how you could possibly be friends with him. They make you love him even more, and they make you resent the adults who were around him when he was growing up.
You’ve seen pictures of little Max, shown to you with funny anecdotes and teasing smiles. But when you look at them, and when you see him like this, you can’t find any of it funny. All you can think of is the other stories you’ve heard about his childhood. All you can wonder is how someone could’ve done those things to him. And then you wonder how despite it all, he ended up with such a kind soul.
Max is the one who brings you soup when you’re sick. He brings you trinkets from every country he goes to- the magnets fill the door of your fridge. Max sends you pictures of dogs he meets on the street even though he’s a cat person. He flies you out to races when you’ve had a bad week and buys you good pasta and better tequila. Max has a heart the size of a whole continent. People keep trying to chip away at it. You hate them for it.
So you take a moment to brush the tears from his cheeks. You don’t ask him why he’s crying, or tell him it’ll be okay. You just sit there on the floor with him in your hallway and wait for him to be ready.
Eventually, you get him up off the floor and drag him into your bedroom. It’ll be better for everyone involved if he gets a good night’s sleep in a real bed. You try to leave the room, but he grabs onto your wrist.
“Stay?” He asks, eyelids barely open.
You hum and brush the hair from his forehead. “Are you sure?”
“M’sure,” he says. “Don’t wanna be alone.”
You nod in understanding. You don’t even bother pointing out that he’s on your side of the bed. He’s too far gone to get him to roll over. You just climb over him and pull the blankets back and then tuck yourself in. You keep a respectable distance from him.
You know in the morning you’ll wake up to his arm around your middle and his face buried in your neck. You know because it happens every time you share a bed. Max will act like there’s nothing weird about it, will thank you for taking care of him, and be on his way before lunchtime.
You’ll crawl back into bed and curl up on your side, unsure of if you love or hate the fact that the sheets still smell like him.
…..
Charles calls you from Qatar.
You answer. “Charles, I cannot pick him up. I’m in another country.”
“Yes, I’ve told him that about a billion times,” Charles says. “He is very stubborn, you know.”
Something dawns on you as you sit up against your headboard. For some reason, you’ve always assumed that other people are the ones choosing to call you. That even when it’s someone who doesn’t know you, they’re getting your information from the emergency contact info in his phone. But this… Charles seems to be suggesting that Max has asked him to call you.
“Is he okay?” You ask.
Charles laughs. “He’s fine. He is a world champion, again. You know.”
You do know. You called and congratulated him right after the race. You can still hear the shake in his voice, the yelling of his team behind him. It’d made your heart ache, made you sad you weren’t there with him.
“Yeah,” you say. “You both still have to drive tomorrow, you know.”
“I do know, which is why I’m hoping you can help me,” Charles says. “We’re in his hotel room. His phone is dead, I guess? He came to use mine, so I brought him back here. He’s lost his charger.”
“There’s a spare one in his backpack,” you tell Charles. “In the small pocket.”
You hear the zipper and Charles’ amused laugh. “Did you pack his bag for him?”
“I helped,” you admit. “Let me talk to him and I’ll see if I can talk him down?”
Charles makes a noise of agreement. There’s rustling, then a thud. More rustling. You pinch the bridge of your nose.
Then, Max. “Hi.”
“Hi, Max,” you answer. “I thought you were going to take it easy tonight.”
“I am a world champion,” he says, so matter of fact.
In the background, you hear Charles groan.
“Yes, a world champion who still has to do a race tomorrow,” you remind him.
“I know. Can’t believe I got it in the sprint. A sprint I didn’t even win,” he says, laughing lightly. “Let the rookie win the race tomorrow. I’m the champion.”
“I’m going to throttle him,” Charles says, loud enough or close enough for you to hear. “I think in turn one I will run him into the wall.”
“Tell Charles if he hurts one hair on your head I’ll fly to Qatar and throttle him myself,” you tell Max.
Max relays the message. Charles is quiet after that.
“Doesn’t matter how you won it, yeah?” You remind Max. “You still worked just as hard to get there.”
“Yeah,” Max agrees. “I’m tired.”
“Yeah, that makes sense.” You say with a laugh. “Charles has plugged your phone in. Make sure you turn it on and then go to sleep.”
You call his hotel and have electrolyte drinks and breakfast sent up the next morning, along with a bottle of painkillers. He texts you a photo of all of it along with a thank you message. When he wins the race, even hungover, you’re not the least bit surprised.
…..
When Max calls you at 11:00 pm, your first thought is huh. That’s early. You answer on the third ring, already looking for your keys. You wonder who it’ll be this time. A friend you know, or an unknown voice of someone he’s only met tonight.
“Schatje?” Max asks through the speaker.
You nearly drop the phone. “Max?”
“What, you don’t have my number saved?” He asks.
“No, of course I do, s’just- not usually you who ends up calling me, even from your phone.”
You think you hear him sniffle. Something twists in your chest. Before you can scramble to apologize, he’s speaking.
“Yeah. Um.” He sighs. “Huh.”
You can hear it in his voice, in the way the words seem to stick in his throat. Something’s wrong. You climb off the couch, headed for the door. “Tell me where you are, Max.”
He sniffs. “No, it’s uh- I don’t know why I called-“
“Max,” you repeat as you shut the front door behind you. “Where are you?”
He gives in and tells you he’s at some hotel bar. You recognize it and head down the stairs. You keep him on the line even as you start the car, as you pull out onto the road. He’s mumbling something about how he’ll be fine, about how you don’t have to come get him. Both of you know you’re already on the way.
You have to go in this time. For a moment you think about asking who else he’s with, and hanging up and calling them. But you don’t want to lose contact, so you park the car and head inside. You’re in a hoodie and sweatpants, a pair of slippers on your feet. Nobody bats an eye.
You find him in a back hallway, squeezed into a corner. Your heart crumples at the sight of him. You’re sure your face does too. He’s teary and curled in on himself. He looks so small. You love him, you worry for him, you hate this version of him. Not that you could ever really hate him. It’s just that he looks so vulnerable, so unlike himself.
As much as you want to get him out of there, as much as it would probably be the right move, you sit down next to him instead. You wrap an arm around his shoulder and pull him into your side until his head is against yours. You don’t ask him what’s wrong. He’ll tell you eventually. It might take a while- sometimes a few days. You always give him time. For now, you just sit in the hallway with him. You meet him where he’s at.
He tells you later that he suddenly found himself alone in the bar. After days straight of only being alone when he went to sleep, person after person wanting to celebrate his championship, he’d been alone. He hadn’t realized how much he’d felt like he was suffocating until that moment.
“I was one of the people celebrating,” you remind him as he clings to you.
“But you aren’t suffocating me,” he says. “You’re like… clean air.”
He sleeps in your bed that night. You sleep next to him, not even bothering to argue about it. You fall asleep to the sound of his steady breaths and the weight of his hand on your back.
When you wake up in the morning, he pretends he’s fine. You let him.
…..
Drunk Max is an overly honest Max. He’ll tell you anything and everything. So when you’re walking him home one night, his arm over your shoulder, gin on his breath, you’re expecting to learn some things. What you weren’t expecting, however, is for him to lean close, his lips against your ear, and tell you he loves you.
The odd thing is the way he says it. He leans close and tells you he loves you like he’s talking to someone else. He says “hey, you know-“ then he says your name- and then he says, “you know I love her?”
You shove at his side. “Yeah, I love you too, you dummy.”
He shakes his head, bumping his forehead against your temple. “No, I love her.”
Your heart stops at the way he says it. At the meaning he’s insinuating. Your feet fumble under you, but you manage to keep both of you upright.
“Max,” you say in a warning tone. “You’re drunk.”
“Mm,” he hums. “Drunk in love. Love drunk? Like that song she likes- got love drunk-“
He doesn’t realize he’s talking to you. He likely won’t remember this. You cut him off before he breaks into slightly incorrect Taylor Swift lyrics on the sidewalk. “That’s nice, Max. Why don’t you tell her?”
He shrugs. “Can’t.”
He doesn’t elaborate further, and you miss your chance to prod him about it when he trips over a bump in the sidewalk and nearly sends you both flying. After that, you keep your focus on getting him up to his apartment safely. You shove him into the bathroom in his apartment and tell him to brush his teeth. Then you stand in the hallway and press your hands over your face.
Can’t. Why not? Does he mean it? Did he say the wrong name? He won’t remember it tomorrow, you know that. Do you bring it up? Maybe you should just forget about it. He obviously doesn’t want you to know. And even if it is true, and he does have feelings for you, it would never work.
He stumbles out of the bathroom and presses a messy, toothpaste-y kiss to your forehead. That leaves your brain spinning even worse than it was before. You follow him to the bedroom and tuck him in. The cats glare at you as you disturb the blankets.
“You’ll stay, right?” He asks, tugging on your arm. He seems to know who you are now. “Please?”
You sigh and agree, climbing into bed next to him. He sighs happily and rolls towards you. He slings an arm around your waist, and you hold your breath when he presses his cheek to your shoulder.
“Goodnight,” he says, already half asleep.
“Goodnight,” you echo.
You lay awake and stare at the ceiling for at least an hour, trying not to listen to the sound of his soft breaths. Trying not to think about him admitting that he loves you. Trying not to think about him calling himself love drunk. Trying not to think about him at all, which is difficult with him right there.
You wonder if he really meant it. You want him to mean it, you realize. You tilt your head to look at him- you can only see the top of his head and the slow rise and fall of his chest. God, you want him to mean it. There’s no way he does, but you want it so badly your whole body aches with it.
Sassy walks up to the head of the bed and curls up right next to you. You run your fingers over her fur. Finally, then, you’re able to fall asleep.
…..
It’s not often that Max is the one to pick you up from a bar. It’s every once in a blue moon. You’re much more responsible, you plan ahead. You have a ride home, or you don’t get so drunk that you can’t walk, or you plan to stay with a friend who lives closer to wherever you’re going.
It’s not often, but it does happen. Which is how you find yourself in the bar bathroom, phone pressed to your ear, praying he picks up. There’s a good chance he won’t. He’s definitely not sitting around, waiting for you to call like you always are when he goes out. If he doesn’t pick up you’ll have to call someone else, but you won’t even know where to begin.
It’s only when you hear his voice that you realize you’re not sure he’s even in Monaco.
“Hello?” He says. “Is everything alright?”
“Yeah, yeah, just- what country are you in?”
“What?” He asks. You can hear rustling in the background. “Is this some sort of code? Is someone-“
“No, Maxie, I’m fine,” you say. “Where are you?”
“Monaco,” he answers, still sounding unsure. “At home. Where are you?”
“Monaco. A bar bathroom,” you answer. “Any chance you’d come pick me up? My designated driver met a guy.”
“Not a very good designated driver,” he says with a scoff.
“Says the guy who never has one,” you retort.
Max laughs and doesn’t argue. “Send me your location. I’ll come get you.”
Max gets there far too quickly to have been driving at a reasonable speed. He insists that you wait inside rather than meeting him out on the sidewalk, and says he’ll call you when he gets there. The phone rings, so you step outside. You’re thankful once again for his collection of cars and his tinted windows- nobody seems to have realized it’s him. He leans over and opens the door for you, and you climb inside. He already has the heated seat on for you, and he hands you a bottle of water after you sit down.
“Drink,” he says as he pulls away from the curb.
You roll your eyes but do as he says anyways. The city is a blur of lights outside your window, though you know Max isn’t speeding. He always drives carefully with you in the car, no matter how many times you beg him to go fast. You sink lower in the leather seat.
His eyes flicker over to you. “Did you have a good time?”
You shrug. “Yeah, till all my friends ditched me,” you say. “They found guys to hook up with.”
You see Max frown out of the corner of your eye. “And you didn’t? The men in this club must be blind.”
You pick at the hem of your dress. “Maybe I didn’t want to hook up with anyone. Maybe that’s not what I’m looking for.”
“And what are you looking for?” He asks.
He keeps his eyes trained on the road. You turn your head to look at him. You’re at a stoplight, and it paints his face red. You study the slope of his nose, the jut of his jaw. You, you want to say. I’m looking for you. You think of him the last time you picked him up, how he said he loved you. Called himself love drunk. And then you think of when you asked him why he hadn’t told you. Can’t.
So instead, you shrug. Max turns and looks at you, then shrugs in response. You pout, knowing he’s mocking you. His eyes trace over your face, then over the rest of you. You wonder if he’s relying on how drunk you are to make you forget this- hoping you won’t realize or remember him checking you out. He reaches into the backseat and comes back with a large dark hoodie.
“Here,” he says. “You must be cold.”
The light turns green when the sweatshirt is half over your head- you only know because you feel the vehicle lurch into motion. You squeak, and Max laughs and lays a hand on your leg to steady you. His palm is warm against your bare skin.
When you pop your head back out and shove your arms through the sleeves, you expect him to let go. He doesn’t. His hand stays there, a steady presence, the whole ride to his place.
He hasn’t even asked if you want to stay at his apartment- he doesn’t need to, he already knows what your answer would be. Plus, you’re a bit too drunk to really be left on your own. He leads you up to his door, keeping his hand on your lower back to steady your wobbling steps. You’d tried to kick your heels off in the lobby, but Max had insisted you keep them on. You take them off as soon as you walk in his front door, though, sighing in relief. You stumble over to the couch as he sheds his shoes and jacket. By the time he walks into the living room, you’re curled up in the corner, already under a blanket, face pressed against one of his throw pillows. Max clicks his tongue.
“Come on. Up,” he says, tugging at your shoulder. “You should change your clothes and eat something.”
You groan and reach out to wrap your arm around his neck. “I’m comfy. Come cuddle. Comfy.”
He sighs. “We can cuddle. If you change your clothes and eat something.”
The offer leaves you a bit dumbfounded, because Max isn’t much of a cuddler. It’s pretty likely that he’s lying just to appease you, to get you to follow his instructions. So you continue to lay there, trying to pull him in. When you don’t budge, Max huffs, plants his hands on the couch behind you, and straightens up. He does it before you can loosen your grip, so you go with him almost accidentally. He pulls you off the couch and grabs your hips, helping you to stand up.
“There,” he says, as you sigh and lean heavily on him. “Step one. Clothes.”
He leads you to his room, where you eagerly take the opportunity to sit down on his bed. He turns and begins digging through his drawers. You flop back onto the bed. One of the cats paws at your ankles- you don’t bother looking to see which one. Max throws clothing onto your stomach.
“I’ll go make you food,” he says.
It takes you far too long to find the motivation to shed the hoodie and dress and trade them out for whatever clothes Max has left for you. Eventually, though, you do it. He’s given you one of his shirts and a pair of shorts that are definitely yours, likely left behind whenever you stayed over last. You pull the hoodie back over your head and leave the dress on the floor. It’s only when you remember that Max is awful at cooking that you scramble towards the kitchen.
He’s putting perfectly cooked ramen into bowls. Frankly, it’s hard to mess up ramen, but you’re relieved either way. He smiles at the sight of you, and you think about telling him all over again. The last time you were drunk, you said you loved me. I love you too. We should talk about that. Can’t. Your heart stutters in your chest.
“Thanks,” you say, sitting down at the counter.
You never do get the cuddle he promised. You fall asleep there, forehead pressed to the granite, and Max carries you to the guest room and tucks you in. You swear you feel his lips against your forehead as you fall asleep. But that’s probably just a dream.
…..
By the time you’re in Vegas for the Grand Prix, you haven’t been drunk with Max in months. It’s been one or the other, not both. But since you’re there, Max drags you along to every event he gets invited to. You’re two drinks deep by the time Max makes it to the afterparty. He catches up quickly.
You sneak a sip of his gin and tonic and recoil at the taste. He gives you a blank stare in return.
“You’ve never liked it,” he says. “I don’t know why you keep trying.”
You shrug. “Exposure therapy. And my drink’s empty.”
He gives you a look that’s a mixture of what you think is exasperation and fondness. It’s his signature look when he’s dealing with you on nights out.
“We can fix that,” he says, as he reaches for your hand.
He leads you up to the bar, fingers knit with yours. He doesn’t let go like he normally would. It’s not uncommon for him to hold onto you in a crowd, especially when you’re drunk, but this is different. He leans over the bar and gives your order to the bartender, who nods and moves to make the drink. Max keeps his hand in yours. He finally lets go when you get your drinks, and you take a sip while you look up at him.
His eyelashes flutter against his cheeks, blue eyes wide, and you’re trying desperately to read his mind. You want him to let you in so badly.
You end up at a table with him and his driver friends, squished in the booth between Max and Charles. You sip your drink and listen to them talk about race strategy and tires and Vegas in general. Max downs his drink, and someone brings him another. You do the same, and he gets them to bring you one too. And the cycle continues.
This means that by the time he turns to you and says, “we should leave now,” you’re pleasantly drunk, and you’d probably do anything he asked, really.
He slips out of the booth and pulls you along with him, ignoring the people who call his name. He has both of your jackets in his arm as he weaves through the crowds, holding onto your hand. It’s nice, to be here with him, to be a part of it instead of sitting and waiting for a phone call to come pick him up.
As the two of you stumble out onto the sidewalk, you tug on the back of his shirt. “Hey. Who are we going to call to come take care of us? We’re both drunk.”
Max turns and laughs, and then he’s quick to steady you when you stumble on the pavement. “We will take care of each other.”
You nod clumsily, leaning into the feeling of his hands on your hips. “Okay. Yeah. Nice.”
Max tugs you close, tucking you under his arm as he starts to walk down the street. “Lovely.”
“Simply lovely,” you say teasingly. “Where are we going?”
“The hotel,” he says. “I am sick of people.”
You deflate a bit at that. You’re not ready to say goodnight, to say goodbye, to be alone. You want to spend more time with him- it’s why you’re here in Vegas. Max seems to sense your change in mood and squeezes your shoulder, craning his head to look down at you.
“What’s wrong?” He asks. “Do you want to stay out? We can find another club, I just thought maybe we could order room service, or pizza, and play a game or…”
He trails off as your eyes go wide, the hurt in your chest melting away. He cocks his head.
“I thought you were sick of me, too,” you say, and you bite your lower lip.
Max frowns deeply. The lights behind his head are blurry in your vision. You wonder if you’re just drunk, or if you’re tearing up. The way he swipes his thumb under your eye tells you it’s the latter.
“No,” he says, gently. “Never.”
Your lip wobbles. You shrug. Max seems to understand, and he just squeezes your shoulder again and keeps walking. You try to get your emotions in check. You have to, really, need to be normal about this. He’s just your friend. That’s all he wants to be.
“We could go do karaoke,” he suggests, pointing at a sign down the road.
He’s trying to distract you. It’s working.
You laugh and elbow him. “You’re an awful singer,” you tease.
“Am not!” He says, his tone full of mock offense. “Here, I’ll-“
You’re expecting him to break out into Viva Las Vegas, like he had at the end of the race over the radio. You’re bracing yourself for it, ready to grimace and cover your ears even though he isn’t really that bad of a singer. What he starts singing surprises you, makes you stumble a bit over your own feet.
“Welcome to New York!” He sings, and you stare at him, wide eyed. “They’ve been waiting for me- welcome-“
“Stop, stop,” you laugh, elbowing him as he attracts stares from people passing by. “We’re in Vegas, not New York! And you always get the lyrics wrong-“
“I am very good with lyrics,” he says, shaking his head.
“No, you’re not, you sang the other one wrong, too,” you tease. “You said got love drunk, it’s supposed to be got love struck. Remember, in Monaco?”
He stops in his tracks, his arm still around you, and stares. You stare right back. You frown and tilt your head at him, mirroring his earlier reaction.
“You remember that?” He asks, quietly.
“I was sober, Max,” you answer. “You remember that?”
He nods, lips pressed into a thin line. His eyes are wide, cheeks pink. “I wasn’t sure if it was real, or if I dreamed it. And you never said anything about what I told you, so…”
That’s when you remember the other part of that conversation, all those nights ago. I love her. Why don’t you tell her? Can’t. You swallow tightly, hands hanging at your sides.
“You didn’t seem to know you were talking to me,” you explain. “So I figured it wasn’t something you really wanted me to know.”
Max blinks, then nods. “I didn’t. Because you don’t feel the same.”
Your stomach twists violently, and your chest follows suit. “I never said that.”
His stare is so intense you feel like you’re seconds away from bursting into flame. “But if you did, you would’ve said something after that night.”
You shake your head. “I asked why you didn’t just tell me and you just said, can’t. You wouldn’t explain any further. I don’t know, Max, I just. I figured you had a reason. Like, maybe…”
“Maybe what?” He asks, still staring at you.
“I’m just me, Max,” you say, pressing your hands over your face. “I’m just your friend. People get crushes all the time but it doesn’t mean you want to be with me, you’re a fucking world champion and I-“
He reaches up with both hands and grabs your wrists gently. He pulls your hands from your face. There’s a smile on his lips that leaves you teetering between relief and apprehension.
“But I didn’t say I had a crush on you,” he says, brows raised. “I said I love you.”
You sigh heavily and try to pull your hands back to your face. He doesn’t let you. You’re looking anywhere other than his eyes. Anywhere other than him, really. He lets go of your wrists and then cups your face in his hands before you can move.
“Hey,” he says. “I said can’t because I thought there was no way you’d feel the same.”
You stare at him, wide eyed, as his thumbs sweep soft circles over your cheeks. Suddenly, everything comes into focus, bright and blinding and stark. The Las Vegas strip is glowing all around you, but none of the lights are as bright as him.
“I do,” you murmur, and he lights up even brighter, somehow, when he smiles. “Fuck, Max-“
He kisses you right there, where anyone could see, in the middle of one of the busiest sidewalks you’ve ever been on. Nobody seems to notice or care, nobody seems to understand that your whole world is shifting. His lips are warm against yours, he tastes like gin, and he holds onto you like he’s trying to be so, so careful. You reach up to wrap your arms around his neck and thread fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck.
He only pulls away when someone whistles at the two of you. He’s grinning wide, hands still cradling your face, and you have to fight not to pull his lips back to yours.
“Come on,” he says, slightly out of breath.
You don’t ask where you’re going. You just let him lead you away. You’re so in love with him, you think you’d probably follow him anywhere. It’s terrifying and relieving all at the same time.
…..
A week later, in Abu Dhabi, you ask him if he wants to go out after the race. There’s a billion parties he could choose from.
“No,” he says, wrinkling his nose up at the idea. “I’m good.”
You elbow him lightly, raising your brows. “All those parties you called me to pick you up from, and now I’m here and you don’t even want to go out? You don’t want to celebrate your season?”
He smirks as he tugs on the hem of your shirt, pulling you along with him through the paddock. “I want to celebrate, but we don’t need to go out to do that. I have better ideas.”
His hand slips lower from your hip and squeezes at your ass. You yelp and look around frantically, hoping nobody noticed. He’s grinning with pride.
“Party animal Max Verstappen wants to stay in,” you tease. “I never thought I’d see the day.”
He shrugs, leans his head close to yours, and then admits, finally, “it was never about the parties. It was more about who was picking me up from them.”
You smile against his shoulder and try not to let it go to your head. He smiles against your forehead and tells you that he loves you for what must be the millionth time in the past week. You say it right back, drunk on the feeling of it.
a/n: thank you for readinnnnngggg!!
taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan @callsign-scully
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gyusrose · 4 months
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OMGG yk that one trend on tik tok where the girl shows her nails the caption being “look at my new nails” and she’s rubbing it on the bfs bulge can u do that with enhypen legal line?? Sorry if this doesn’t make sense😭
love this req !!!!! i tried my best though hope you like it !
⚠︎ very suggestive ;) semi- smut?
✎ what the req. says
enhypen legal line x fem. reader
Heeseung -> you were seeing this trend going on in TikTok and you couldn’t help but want to try it out on your boyfriend. you just had your nails done yesterday as well so it was the perfect timing. you explained to heeseung what you wanted to do earning a howl from him.
“ you’re so horny i swear. “
you smacked your lips pushing his shoulder lightly.
“not true! i just want to try this trend !”
“mhm yea sure, as if you don’t know that this will end up in fucking. “
nevertheless he agreed to it.
he laid down on his back while you positioned your hand on top of his clothed dick before pressing play.
as your other hand was filming you slightly squeezed him through his sweatpants. heeseung groaned and hissed as you kept on rubbing slightly on him while you pretended to show your nails. he was an impatient man, the video that was barely 15 seconds long felt like 15 minutes, all he wanted was to bend you over the bed and fuck you like the tease you are.
“shit are you almost done?” he desperately asked.
“wait, just like 5 more seconds..” heeseung threw his head back, annoyed. he knew you were deleting some clips and redoing them.
“alrighty it’s done.” as soon as the video ended he pulled your waist towards him and grabbed your jaw.
“you’re gonna learn to not tease me like that ever again.”
Sunghoon -> “look babe i just got my nails done.” you said showing him your pink and white flower designs on them.
to be completely honest, you only did it to do that funny trend you saw a few days ago. it’s just something dumb and humorous you wanted to do sunghoon wouldn’t mind it.
sunghoon thought about it for a minute. he wanted to act as if nothing but holy fuck, he was already getting hard at the thought of it. the whole idea of being recorded turns him on too much for his liking. eventually he agreed to it and laid down in bed.
you on the other hand had no idea how turned on he is, even though you’re touching him sexually, it was just a joke to you, just a TikTok. that would explain how surprised you were when you rubbed his visible bulge and felt him hard as a rock. 
“holy shit..” you whispered to yourself, you tried to keep your composure as you were filming but how could you when your man was literally yearning for your touch.
sunghoon tried to hold back his moans but failed miserably. he wanted your mouth so bad. your soft touches that come and go did so much to him.
“fuck stop the video.” he said giving up, grabbing his pants and pulling them down along with his boxers.
“suck it like you know how to.”
Jay -> “so you just want to touch my dick is basically what you’re saying?” jay had such a way with words. of course that’s what you meant but you can’t just agree like that.
“i see so many people doing it and i’m bored.” jay raised an eyebrow at your response. he knew you like the back of his hand. you were horny duh.
“sure go ahead and do your ‘tiktok’ “ he chuckled as he laid in bed, waiting for you to start the video.
he smirked down at you as you innocently rubbed on his dick while you stroked up and down on it. showing your red nails to the camera yet the last thing on both of y’all’s minds was the nails.
jay wanted to also tease you. he lifted up his shirt slightly, showing his v-line. your panties were damp. in less than 30 seconds, jay has managed to almost make you cum on yourself.
jay kept calm throughout the whole video ( even though he was dying to fuck your mouth ) and just chuckled at how the simple outline of his cock made you go crazy.
“fuck it.”
you threw your phone somewhere and unbuckled his belt pulling his jeans down. left in his boxers he grabbed you chin, forcing you to look at him.
“i fucking knew it.”
Jake -> you were just sitting down in your living room at peace, when all of a sudden you hear footsteps coming from upstairs, jake came up to you while showing his phone screen with a huge grin on his face. oh god, you knew that look.
“look at this trend going on right now, it’s so hot.” he was always up to date with all the trends and stuff so you weren’t surprised, but when you saw the video, your eyes almost popped out. you were expecting a silly little dance he wanted to do with you but no. this man wanted you to grope him for a TikTok video. you couldn’t help but laugh at his request, you weren’t complaining though.
“jake seriously?”
“yes seriously, come on it’ll be fun, plus my face won’t be showing, just my dick. also you just got your nails done as well, don’t you want to show them off?” in other words, he was horny.
so there you were, rubbing on him as you squeezed his already aroused cock. you tried to go at it softly (since that was the whole point of the TikTok ) but jake didn’t want that as he bucked his hips cowards wanting to feel more, moaning from the lack of movement.
“i thought this was just got a TikTok, why are you getting so worked up jakey?” you teased. fuck how much he loved that.
from his white shirt which was almost transparent, you could see his glistening abs tighten from his heavy breaths. now you were the one getting worked up.
“just save the video and come here.” he said pulling you into a kiss.
Sunoo -> “you want to r-record it?” you nodded eagerly. you adored seeing sunoo hot and bothered, so what a great idea was this ? plus the nails you had on were actually expensive so what better way to show them off than next to your boyfriend’s dick?
sunoo blushed at your words. the action itself turned him on so bad but now that you want to make a video with it did something to him. he was nervous for sure but excited as well? there was nothing in the world he loved more than your hands, especially since they look so cute right now, so why not?
sunoo was already breathing heavily before you even pressed start. your hand simply being on top of his crotch already drove him crazy.
as you started rubbing him and squeezing him through his pants, he became a whiny mess. he stopped himself from moving his hips too much for the video but at that moment he wanted to fuck into your hand like he always does.
“aww is my precious little baby frustrated ? be patient i’m almost done.” the video was clearly longer than it should’ve been but you just loved seeing him trying to hold back seeing his dick twitch.
“please just- just touch me please ..”
Jungwon -> he was waiting for you to come up to him and ask him if you could do the infamous trend going around. obviously just as an excuse to have you on your knees.
“can we try it? pretty please? look my nails are even cute.” clearly you were very eager.
jungwon pretended to think for a moment as if he wasn’t dying to do it as well. “whatever you want princess.”
you took that literally. groping him from his base to the tip slowly then rubbing him while showing the camera your pretty nails .
“fuck those hands of yours.” he breathed out. you smirked loving how much power you have right now.
he was a quietly moaning into the pillow, on top of that, he was wearing grey sweatpants making it the scene even more sensual.
“ keep it together, just a few more seconds.” jungwon couldn’t even hide his desperation at this point. the way your small hands take him so good even soft touches and strokes like these drove him insane.
the sound of the video ending brought him back to reality. “and..done.”
“good, now finish what you’ve started.”
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emilybeemartin · 8 months
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I've been drawing just, so many dudes, so here are some Ladies of Gondor and Shieldmaidens of Rohan! Sometimes you just have to design a bunch of ren-faire gowns and accessories, you know?
First, Eowyn, the best excuse to draw split skirts. Her star-embroidered gloves were a gift from Faramir, but it wasn't until I drew Finduilas below that I realized her pendant was probably also a gift from him as well.
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Lothiriel! I referenced her pose from my fave, @adorkastock. I don't have many headcanons about Lothiriel but I imagine she's the only person who can make Eomer trip over his own feet.
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Theodwyn, Eowyn and Eomer's mother! Maybe she was born with a clubbed foot. We don't know. Tolkien only tells us she was pretty. A big thank-you to @hurricanek8art, @fruitbatvampiresociety, and @arrowpunk for giving me great feedback on her cane, including wrapping the base in leather and adding a skirt hike to her belt to keep her hem up.
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Elfhild, Theoden's wife and Theodred's mother! No big headcanons here, either, but I think she'd bring Theoden a lot of joy and purpose and thus a lot of grief and aimlessness when she died.
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And finally, Finduilas. There's the pendant Faramir gave Eowyn, and oh, her cape clasp looks familiar.
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Tolkien gives us a few extra sentences about Finduilas, and so we know she had a difficult time in Minas Tirith. He writes that she was gentle and beautiful, but that "she withered in the guarded city... the shadow in the east filled her with horror, and she turned her eyes ever south to the sea that she missed." He also says Denethor "loved her, in his fashion," which I read as, "guy couldn't healthily express an emotion if it was written out for him." I imagine Finduilas was lonely and isolated, and, in pregnancy, afraid of the world she was bringing her babies into.
But maybe things weren't all bad! Maybe before she got too ill, she brought her boys to the seashore, where Faramir would babble and splash and Boromir would run all over creation and bring her treasures.
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ktsumu · 4 months
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— am i the asshole?
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+ pairing: ghostface!osamu miya x f!reader
+ word count: 2.5k
+ cw: MDNI 18+ NSFT, dubcon, unintentional cheating on your part, rough sex, semi-public sex, oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, ghostface!samu, ooc osamu
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+ synopsis: the miya twins have worn the same costume every halloween since they were born — it’d be pretty easy to get them mixed up, right?
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+ note: this is my contribution to @k9nto's reddit collab! find the masterlist for the event here!
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“Miss me?”
Atsumu’s hand rests on your shoulder from behind, and he snickers when you jump from his sudden reappearance. He hands you the cup you asked him for. “Ooh, Halloween’s got ya jumpy, has it?”
“Or maybe it’s the guy who never announces himself when he’s coming up behind me?”
“Aw, where’s the fun in that, princess?” he teases, his finger tugging at the fishnets beneath your little dress and belt. “Mm, still hot even with an eyepatch.”
“You got a thing for pirates, ‘Tsumu?”
He pulls you in closer by your lower back, making sure you can hear the lust in his voice where you can’t see it in his eyes. “I’ve got a thing for pretty things in tiny dresses,” he murmurs, “especially when I get to take it off—“
“Woah, slow your roll there,” you giggle, pulling his hand away from where it tried to sneak beneath the hem of your dress skirt. “Remember that we’re in public, Atsumu?”
“So? Half the people here are either waitin’ for a bathroom to fuck in or are already doing it on the couch, we’re nothin’ special.”
You roll your eyes when his hands start to wander again, swatting them away with a glare. Well, as much of a glare as you can show with one eye.
 “I thought you wanted to find your brother, hm?”
“Oh, yeah! Gotta get the annual Halloween Twins Pic,” he remembers. He and Osamu always get their routine picture of them in their identical costumes, every single year — they both dread it in their own way, but you think it’s sweet. “Have you seen him?”
“It’s like a needle in a haystack.”
“Okay, not that many people showed up as Ghostface.” 
You raise an eyebrow. 
“Fine, so it’s a popular costume! Whatever — I can recognize my own brother.”
“Good luck, ‘cause I can’t.”
Atsumu says something in reply, but you really don’t hear it under the mask or the music. You follow him around by his back, letting him lead you blindly through the house until you eventually end up in the kitchen. 
You hear insults being traded and assume that they’ve found each other well. 
“About time I found your ugly ass,” Atsumu grumbles, playfully smacking the back of Osamu’s head. Osamu raises a hand and Atsumu dives away with a yelp. 
“Yeah, whatever,” Osamu mutters, before his head turns to you. He’s got the same mask that Atsumu has on. “Hey.”
“Hey!” you greet back with a smile. 
“Ain’t her costume cute, ‘Samu?” Atsumu sings. “Pretty.”
Osamu leans on the counter like he’s tired. “That’s a trick question.”
“Ooh, yer gettin’ good at this.”
You scoff, rolling your eyes and holding out your hand, empty palm facing up. “So, whose phone am I taking the photo with?”
“Right! Here,” Atsumu hands you his phone, shoving Osamu into place so they’re back-to-back, arms crossed. They’re clones, all right. “Look spooky?”
“Terrifying,” you laugh, snapping a few pictures and handing the phone back. 
Atsumu lifts his mask, giving you a quick kiss on your waiting lips. “Thank you, baby,” he says quietly. Osamu watches you from the side. “Me and ‘Samu are gonna go find an old buddy, wanna come?”
You smile, shaking your head. “I’m okay. I’ll watch our drinks — you won’t be long, will you?”
“Now, how could I stay away from ya? When you’re lookin’ this damn good?” he teases, slipping a finger in through your belt. “Be back in five, baby.”
“Ugh, I’ll be waiting,” you taunt, glancing toward the hallway where the rooms tend to be. You watch as Atsumu’s head tilts; though you can’t see it, you know his face is awestruck. 
Osamu groans, grabbing his arm. “I’ll have the freak back ASAP,”
“Hey!”
You snicker with a nod, saluting him. “Good luck.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
They disappear into the pool of people as Atsumu keeps on whining about something, probably you, and Osamu drags him by the bicep to the other room. It’s pretty clear which one of them is more excited to see the friend they’re trying to find. 
You sigh to yourself, leaning on the counter as you wait for them to get back. 
You’ve always been pretty good friends with Osamu — you haven’t been with Atsumu for that long, but while you have been, you've been on good terms with his brother. 
They almost remind you of parallel lines, Atsumu and Osamu; they’re alike but still separate, moving along beside one another. It’s probably why it’s so easy to get along with both of them all the time, despite the fact they get at each other's throats. 
It isn't too much longer after they disappear that strong hands come to rest on your waist from behind, making you jump. You turn around to find that it’s just Atsumu’s dumb mask looming over you, his head tilted to one side. 
“Jesus, ‘Tsumu,” you grumble, “I just told you to quit it with that.”
Atsumu hums to himself, pulling your hips closer to his. He cages you in between the counter and himself. 
“Didn’t we also just talk about this?” you complain, but your brows relax when you feel his hand smooth down your hip from your waist. 
“Please,” Atsumu murmurs, playing with your tights. “I can’t stop thinking about it.”
“About what?”
“About what’s under that fuckin’ dress.”
Your face goes hot; he moves closer. 
“Please,” he repeats. 
You don’t care about what you talked about earlier — all you’re capable of doing now is nodding and taking his hand, letting him lead you out of the kitchen. 
Your eyes train on his back as he knocks on doors, checking rooms and bathrooms until he finds one that opens without resistance. The second you’re both inside, he’s shutting the door blindly, locking it the same way. 
The bathroom is cramped, but it’s enough space to get you up on the counter, your legs spread apart as he drops to his knees. 
“Holy fuck, Atsumu,” you breathe, goosebumps running across your skin when he looks up at you in that stupid mask. He doesn’t say a word, but you figure he has other plans. 
His hand guides one of your legs over his shoulder, and he pulls the mask up on top of his head. It’s long enough that it makes a cover over his face — like the bill of a baseball cap, or something. 
You almost complain about it, about the lack of view between the mask and his hood staying up, but you fall short of words when he rips your fishnets apart at the crotch. He tugs your panties down your legs. 
“I — you’re so goddamn lucky those were cheap,”
“Uh-huh,” he groans, tugging you closer to the edge by the hips. 
You gasp, hands gripping the counter’s edge. “Can you at least warn me before you — oh,”
You come up short for words as he flattens his tongue against your cunt, his hold on your thighs tightening when you arch your back. 
Atsumu has always been good at this, but you find yourself at a loss this time; everything you want him to do, he does without request — like he’s tracking where you want his tongue by the way your hips roll alone. 
His tongue flicks over your clit, drawing circles before starting over again. “Shit,” you whimper, looking down at his fingers digging into your legs. “So fucking good,”
You can feel his spit running down to your ass, you can hear how messy he is — he sucks on your clit with a low moan, one of his hands slowly moving from your leg to where his tongue was before.
Your deep breath shatters into stutters when he slowly pushes in his spit-soaked finger, kissing your clit as he drags it up against your walls. Everything he does is deliberate. 
“Oh my god,” you whisper, your head tilting back against the mirror as you grind against his face and hand, making sure he’s buried himself to the knuckle. “Please, more, please,”
“Fuckin’ begging,” you think you hear him murmur, his finger squelching as it drags out of your cunt. “I'll wanna hear this again,”
You can’t even ask what he means before he’s slipping in his ring finger, too. His lips move to gently kiss your inner thigh as his fingers do the opposite, quickly thrusting in and out of your pussy, feeling it flutter around them. 
The pressure in your gut builds quicker than you acknowledge it’s there, but you’re guessing he knows that by the way your breathing gets faster; his fingers drag against the sweet spot he was searching for. You feel him grin against your skin like he knows. 
“I’m gonna cum,” you gasp, knuckles turning white from gripping the counter so hard. “Atsumu, I’m gonna cum,”
“Do it, then,” he growls, and it takes you no more than a few more thrusts to clamp down on his fingers. 
You cum with a cry, back arching and hips pushed forward. Atsumu doesn’t stop until you’ve rode it out fully, until you reach down and grab his wrist to force him to stop. 
“Oh, fuck,” you breathe out, fixing the strap that fell off of your shoulder. Below you, Atsumu slips out his fingers; you can’t see him, but you can hear him suck them off. You think you hear him groan. “Need you, ‘Tsumu.”
He hesitates, pulling his mask back down before standing back up. Your eyes follow him until he’s above you again, and the way his hands drop to the button of his jeans alone makes you lightheaded.
His hands work to tug them loose, unzipping them as you eagerly sit up. You feel him over his boxers, nearly dropping dead at the way he bucks his hips into your palm. He rests a hand on either side of you on the bathroom counter, leaning in on it, rolling his hips as you pump him through the fabric. 
“Mm, fuck,” you practically drool, “need you to fuck me good,”
You giggle when his head tips back, your other hand pushing his sweater up so you can watch his abs tense; watch his v-line dip beneath his waistband. 
You’re sick of waiting. 
Spitting in your hand, you take his cock out of his boxers and pump him up slowly, watching the way his body reacts to your touch. At first, you were a little curious about him keeping the mask on — but now? You’ve never seen anything hotter. 
Atsumu grabs your hand the same way you grabbed his, tugging you off the counter. You almost trip over your panties, silly you and your shaky legs, but he’s quick to wrap an arm around your waist, nudging you to bend over the counter. 
You look back at yourself in the mirror, his frame looming behind you. He holds the hem of his sweater halfway up his body, and the dim light against his glistening skin is enough to make your pussy throb. 
“Watch,” he says lowly, his hand straightening your head to look forward again when you try and look back at him. He pushes your dress up your body, his hands smoothing up the dip of your back. 
“Fuck,” he groans, the tip of his cock tapping on your ass before it teases your cunt. “Been waitin’ for this.”
Your jaw drops as he slips into you with ease, dragging himself back out just as slow; he builds his pace with every thrust. 
Your fingers search to grip something, anything on the counter. His hands grip your hips as his own press flush against your ass, his cock reaching as deep as it can go. 
“Fuck, ‘Tsumu,” you whimper. He fucks into you harder, his grip tighter. “Shit!”
His balls slap against your clit as he fucks you up the counter, your breath leaving clouds on the mirror. Your tits spill out of the neckline of your dress and your ass stings where a fleshy handprint starts to form, yet you’re still fucking yourself back on him. “Atsu—“
He grabs the back of your belt that's somehow stayed on and yanks you back with it; you stare at yourself getting fucked in the mirror. 
“Who’s fuckin’ you this good?”
“You!” you cry, gasping when he bends and pushes up one of your legs to rest on the counter. Your pussy squelches with every thrust, his cock bullying your cunt until you can’t forget the shape of it. “You are—“
“Damn right,” he grits, reaching a hand around your body to circle your clit. “And I’m the one makin’ you cum, too.”
“Yes! Fuck, yes—“ 
“Come on, baby,” he asks; his voice sounds like he’s taunting you. It’s deep and unsteady, but the slight rasp nearly makes you cum on the spot. “You know you want it, fuckin’ take it,”
You cry out in rhythm with his thrusts, his pace unrelenting, both of you so fucking close and slowly getting louder — you tighten around him and he’s murmuring next to your ear: “Cum on me, baby, you can do it,”
Atsumu gropes your chest as you let go with a shudder, creaming around him as he makes no effort to slow down; he only stills inside of you once your whole body is filled with a hot tremor, his cum leaking out of your pussy only for him to slowly fuck it back inside. 
You slump forward when he finally lets you go, your leg falling off the counter as you look at your disheveled appearance in the mirror. 
The familiar sound of his jeans being zipped back up again comes from behind you, and Atsumu hands you your panties from the floor.
You snort. “What a gentleman,”
He shrugs, crossing his arms as he leans up against the door. He shamelessly watches you fix yourself up as best you can — you pull your dress back down, try to make your fishnets look as normal as possible. 
“Way to fuck up my costume, though,” you grumble, crossing your legs to try and ignore the way cum soaks your panties. “I have to look somewhat normal, you know.”
“Mm, you should. Better look nice so my brother doesn’t think you fucked me.”
You furrow your eyebrows. “Why would Osamu care?”
He breathes out a laugh. “Oh,” he says, lifting his mask up. This time, you see him, and your blood just about runs frigid. “I don’t. ‘Tsumu might, though.”
You blink, shaking your head. “I — you —?”
“I’m not gonna tell him,” Osamu says, running a hand through his hair. His cheeks are flushed red — you just want to disappear. You feel nauseous, but you can’t take your eyes off of him. “But, you know. Might happen again.”
“Wh—no, it can’t. It won’t.”
Osamu shrugs. “Okay.”
You stare as he unlocks the door, opening it as the noise from the rest of the party floods your crypt. He leans down towards you, tilting his head. 
“Remember how I made you cum,” he says in the quiet, “and then remember how he does.”
You swallow the lump in your throat, but it doesn’t help the pit in your chest. Osamu laughs shortly again, “Right.”
“I’ll give you an excuse, buy ya some time.” His eyes flicker from yours down to your open mouth, your glossy lips. “Make sure you’re not still droolin’ over it when you come out, ‘kay?”
And with that, he pulls his mask back down over his face and leaves the bathroom; you only watch him head down the hallway for a second before slamming the door shut, left with the sound of your heart beating in your ears.
Looking back in the mirror, you don’t even know what to do with yourself. So, you wipe off your lips. 
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twirlyleafs · 16 days
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”Start of the season-drama”
Max Verstappen x reader
TW: angst, assumed cheating
~~~~
“I wish you could come with me.” You looked over at your boyfriend next to you by the kitchen counter. He didn’t meet your gaze, face contoured in concentration as he formed the ground beef into patties.
“I know baby.” You agreed, reaching for a bowl to put the cut cucumber in. Max grabbed it for you.
“Are you sure you can’t come with? Bahrain is nice.” He softly bumped his arm against yours, offering a playful smile. You chuckled, shaking your head.
“I would love to, you know that. But I have my thesis to write.”
“You can do that on the road.” He tried, but you both knew the answer. This conversation had been on repeat for the last few months and every time it ended with Max, somewhat disappointed, agreeing that it would be best if you stayed home. You weren’t surprised he tried one last time tonight.
“Even if I could Maxie, I still have to work and I can’t do that from Bahrain.” Even before he spoke up you knew what his next argument would be and if anything got under your skin, it was this.
“You don’t need to work though. You have me.” The way he said it so casually, like he always did, had your stomach twisting. You hated that he saw it like that, and no matter how many times you talked about it Max didn’t seem to understand your point of view. You clenched your jaw, physically biting your tongue not to say anything back. Instead you concentrated back on the work on the cutting board, brows slightly furrowed. Things were quiet for a few moments, Max being busy with the meat in the frying pan, and you had almost blocked him out completely, deep in your own thoughts, when you felt two strong arms wrap around your waist. Your back was softly pulled flush against his chest and a second later he nudged the side of your head with his nose.
“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, pressing a few kisses against your cheek and down your shoulder. “Of course you have things to do here, I get that. I’m just going to miss you, that’s all.” You couldn’t help but smile, the frown melting of your face in a second. How could you ever stay annoyed at him when he was this cuddly and cute? You placed the knife down, turning around in his rather tight grip to face him. Max looked down at you, tilting his head slightly as to ask if he was forgiven. You just reached up to grab his cheeks, bringing his face down to yours for a kiss. You felt him smile against your lips.
“I’m going to miss you too.” You said when the two of you finally pulled apart. “But it’s just two weeks, right?”
“Hmm.” Max nodded, fingers pressing into the skin just above your hips. “Then I’ll come straight back home and I won’t leave your side for at least a few days.” You laughed at that, snaking your arms around his torso and leaning your head against his chest. Max pulled you even closer, a deep breath leaving his lips. You were going to miss him, but two weeks went fast and you told yourself that he’d be back, preferably with two wins under his belt, before you knew it.
~
The first race had been amazing. You had watched from home with some of your friends, absolutely ecstatic and somewhat tipsy as your boyfriend passed the finish line in first place what felt like hours ahead of the rest. When he called you after the win you had literally screamed into the phone how proud you were of him and hearing him laugh loudly on the other end had you smiling the whole night.
That was four days ago. You had been busy, work was more chaotic than normal and your limited freetime was spent in the library working on your thesis. Unfortunately, this also meant that you had missed a few of Maxs phone calls and when you’d called him back he had been busy instead. You texted a lot, but it had been a few days since you last heard his voice and you were starting to miss it.
Getting back late from the library, not at all happy with the work you had done, all you wanted to do was to call Max and have him tell you about his day. You knew he had been at the annual banquet in Jeddah last night, which he hated, and you were excited to hear all the gossip. You sunk down in the couch, making yourself comfortable as you searched up the results of the first practice round. You always wanted to know how things were going for Max before you spoke to him, partly to show him that you cared and partly because you wanted to know what mood he might be in. You smiled to yourself, pleased, when you saw him at the top of the rankings. Absentminded you begun to scroll down among the tweets, rolling your eyes at the people hating on Max and grinning proudly at all the people joking about how this season would just be win after win after win for him. Suddenly you stopped, a tweet written all in caps catching your eye.
MAX VERSTAPPEN LOOKING DAPPER WITH MYSTERIOUS BLONDE! DID HE LEAVE HIS GIRLFRIEND AT HOME?
You raised your eyebrows, not being able to stop yourself from clicking on the photos. Surely it was going to be something dumb, you were used to the rumors surrounding your boyfriend and you had simply learned to just tune them out. Scrolling through the pictures now, however, you could feel your stomach drop. It was blurry, but it was clearly Max. The photos were taken from far away but you saw him, dressed handsomely in a suit and bowtie, with his arms tightly wrapped around a tall blonde. Her back was turned against the camera so you couldn’t make out her face, but you didn’t recognize the body at all. The two of them seemed to be alone, standing outside what looked like the building where the banquet was held. In one picture Max was shown grabbing her cheeks, staring down at her. You squinted, as if that would help you distinguish his expression, but you couldn’t quite tell what was happening. You couldn’t deny that it sure looked like he was about to kiss her. Quickly locking your phone you dropped it in your lap, staring down at the black screen with wide eyes. That wasn’t just some rumor, something someone had claimed to see or made up. Those were real photos, photos of Max being way too close for comfort with someone who clearly wasn’t you. You knew you should calm down, take a step back until you could talk to him and let him explain. Surely there was an explanation that didn’t involve him actually cheating on you? Right? Before you had time to spiral further your phone lit up again, the picture of Max sleeping, drooling, in a cab you had as his contact photo illuminating your screen. Acting on reflex you picked it up, sliding your finger across the screen.
“Hello?”
“Baby!” He seemed surprised that you answered but quickly regained himself. “Am I disturbing you? Are you at home?”
“I just got home.” You answered, frowning at the shortness of your own tone. You weren’t sure how to approach him, you weren’t even sure what to say. Were you mad? Sad?
“Good. Feels like we’ve just missed each other the past few days.” Max shuffled around on the other end and you assumed he was laying in bed. With a content sigh he spoke again and you could hear the smile on his face. “How are you my love?”
“I’m good.” You mumbled, clicking on the speaker icon and placing your phone down in your lap.
“How’s the thesis coming along? I assume you just came from the library?”
“Hmm, yeah I did. It’s fine.” Max obviously picked something up in your voice because he was quiet for a few seconds before speaking up again.
“I hope you’re not spreading yourself too thin baby, you have to take a break sometimes.” His voice was full of concern and you don’t know if it was that or the pictures still haunting you but suddenly all you wanted was to be next to him. “Have you eaten today?”
“Actually,” you began, deciding what to say as the words were coming out of your mouth. “I was thinking about maybe coming to you? I think I can make it to the race if I leave tomorrow and-“ you stopped as you heard Max laugh on the other end, stomach twisting at the sound you usually loved. That was not the reaction you wanted.
“You know I miss you but that’s crazy baby.” He chuckled. You could feel the pressure take form behind your eyes. “You have things to do and I’ll be home in less than a week.”
“Yeah but I want to see you now. I thought you’d want that too.” You hated that his reaction, a very reasonable reaction at that, left you feeling so hurt.
“Of course I want to see you, but you shouldn’t come all the way here when we both know-“
“I shouldn’t?” His choice of words felt like a punch in the stomach and you frowned down at the phone. Max took a second too long to respond so you spoke again. “Why shouldn’t I? You don’t want me there?”
“What’s all this coming from?” The smile was far gone from his voice and now he just sounded bewildered. “You’re the one who opted to stay home because you had work to do.”
“Yeah well that was before I knew you’d cozy up with some other girl if I’m not there.”
You pressed your eyes shut, cringing at your own words the second they left your lips. You did not mean to put that out there like that. The line went quiet for a moment before Max broke the silence, voice as confused as it gets.
“What?”
You wanted to cry. “Nothing.”
“No, what did you say?”
“Nothing Max. Don’t worry about it.” You snapped, hating yourself more every time you opened your mouth. You really needed this conversation to be over, preferably before you started to cry. “I’m actually really tired, I think I’m-“
“No no no, you don’t just get to throw something like that at me and then hang up. What did you mean by that?”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.” You were rambling. “Just forget it. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” You heard Max say your name before you hung up, heart feeling like it was beating out of your chest.
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sundrop-writes · 5 months
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if Mike fell asleep with you...
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Word Count: 750
Horror Characters Masterlist
Warnings: this is mostly pure fluff - Mike and the reader are in an established relationship, the reader's gender is not described in any way (the main pronouns used are you/yours), Mike calls the reader angel, the reader takes on a caregiver role for Abby, mostly just short and fluffy. This is set before the main events of the movie, when Mike is working as a security guard at the mall.
A/N: So, I've seen so many people in the tags going 'just let him sleep!!! that man is so exhausted!!' and saying that he's too tired to fuck in the way that people are writing fanfics about him. And as much as I love super horny fics, I do thought this up, because I agree - the man should be allowed to sleep. This is largely inspired by that scene in Grey's Anatomy where Meredith walked in and Owen was asleep on Cristina's chest while she was reading a book (I think it was when she was reading through Mer's mom's diaries?) - anyway. I love that scene so much because it shows how easily he sleeps around her because he's so comfortable around her. And that's why it deeply inspired this. Let him sleep.
...
Mike was exhausted when he came in the door. 
He heaved out a sigh as he closed the door behind him, toeing off his shoes - pure, stiff tiredness radiating through his whole body in the worst way. 
You knew that sound anywhere. 
“Long day?” You inquired gently from your position on the couch, lightly craning your neck to look at him. 
He shuffled further into the house in an almost zombie-like fashion, only giving you a solitary grunt in response. 
You felt kind of bad that he had been stuck at work late when you had been lucky enough to have a morning shift and been treated to a relaxing evening with Abby. She was a relatively easy kid to take care of, and generally fun to be around. 
And after you had put her to bed, you laid out on the couch, relaxing and reading a novel that your friend had recommended. Generally, you were having a nice evening. And it seemed that Mike was not. 
As you kept an eye on Mike, you folded over the page of your book to mark it and put it on the coffee table for later. 
“Dinner’s on the counter.” You told him. “I made lasagna. I can heat it up for you if you want.” 
You hated that before he started dating you, all he knew was freezer burnt crap - but you were slowly showing him how to cook, and a world of vegetables that didn't come in a can. 
Mike took off his jacket and the heavy belt he had to wear for work (his large walkie talkie and his taser were in his locker at work, as mandated, but the thing was still damn uncomfortable) and he hung them both up. 
He didn’t respond to your queries about dinner as he walked around the couch. Instead of speaking, seeing you laying there so relaxed - the sight was all too inviting, and he eased himself to lay on top of you in a form of very natural intimacy before he grunted a few words into your neck. 
“Did Abby eat?” He asked softly as he laid on top of you. 
It was oddly comforting to have the bulk of his weight on top of you, especially as he melted against you, letting out a small moan as the tension melted out of his bones. He adjusted himself to get more comfortable and his face rested against the softness of your chest - you glanced down to see that his eyes were drifting closed. 
“She ate two platefuls, and had some peas.” You assured him. “Did her homework, had a bath, and she practiced her spelling words before she went to bed.” 
Mike grunted again - a more positive pitch to this one. He couldn't ask for anyone better than you. Sometimes he worried about her - all the time. But when Abby was with you, that worry lessened a lot. 
“You’re an angel.” He hummed against your chest. “I don’t-” He let out a gentle yawn. “I don’t know how I got so lucky with you.” 
“You look hot in a uniform and my job at the bookstore gets boring.” You replied, half-joking about the circumstances of how your relationship with Mike had formed. 
You reached out to him and began running your fingers through his hair, soothing him even further into the realm of sleep with the comforting touch. 
He let out another tired moan in reply - something that almost stretched into a rolling sound with the gentle pleasure of your hand in his hair. With the way his body was so slack against yours, his breathing even and quiet, you knew this was only leading one place. 
“You wanna go get ready for bed?” You asked gently. 
“In a minute.” He answered softly, barely parting his lips to get the words out. 
You glanced over to the table and reached out, picking your book back up as his breathing deepened and his body went even more slack. You were preparing to get comfortable for the next few hours. You weren’t all that tired yourself, and you still had a few chapters left to go. When you got to the next chapter, he began to snore lightly and you felt drool dripping down your neck - which didn’t bother you all that much. You found it cute, in fact. 
You were comforted by the fact that he relaxed enough around you to get such a good sleep. You knew that he needed it. 
...
A/N: also, this is my first time posting a fic completely from mobile by copy/pasting something from google docs on my phone. So hopefully the formatting isn't too messed up and hopefully this goes well! And I hope you guys enjoy this short fluffy fic 💖
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pia-nor481 · 4 months
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Empty bed Part One
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Lando Norris x reader smut 18+
2.7k words
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Racing was always hard on Lando, he left exhausted and with extreme back pain from sitting almost parallel to the ground in the Mclaren. Many thought he was happy with P2 most races, but that wasn't the case. Coming third means you beat seventeen other drivers, it was something to be proud about. Coming first means you won, all the effort you put in payed off for 25 points and a trophy with "1" written on the front, it meant you were the best on the grid. But second, it always came with the worst feeling. He would be ecstatic getting out of the car, sitting in the cool down room and spraying champagne on the podium, but once he reached the sofa of the post race interviews, waves of dread and disappointment waved over him. "So what about the car is proving to be so tricky for you?" One of the interviewers asked looking directly at Lando, he couldn't blame the car if Oscar. a rookie, managed to come third in the same car. A car that was made for him. "Nothing, just a ... lack of talent." The pause after was so loud, although if Max and Oscar had their mics up, it would have picked up their laughter. But Lando wasn't joking, he just broke the record for the highest number of points without ever winning a race. It was upsetting sure, but his team mate winning a race before him, even though it was a sprint, hurt him even more. It wasn't Oscar's fault Lando felt so down, he just got used to losing, 
All the drivers decided to go out to a club to celebrate another win for max. Lando loved clubs and raves, the atmosphere was so over whelming that he couldn't really think. The DJ wasn't playing as well as he should have, Lando thought, he dances around the line of confident and cocky very well, it was never a turn off. He left Daniel to go the bar for another drink, once he got his vodka and coke he debated on just staying at the bar, drinking a way his problems just for the night. He didn't have to worry about a race next week so he didn't have to easy. Taking a sip of the barely cold drink almost caused him to cough, this was not the Smirnoff he was used to, there was an artificial after taste to the drink as well. "I think you might have my drink."  The girl next to him said laughing lightly, clearly trying to hold back her tears, not from laughter but from the remaining taste of vodka in her mouth. "I think so. Well, here's your just less than full rum and diet coke." Lando said, offering a playful smile in return, offering the glass to her, she took a sip with a nod, pleased to wash the awful taste out of her mouth. "You can definitely have your glass of paint stripper back." Lando chuckled rather loudly at her comment, it wasn't the first time some one had commented on his choice of drink, but her was the funniest. "You don't sound local, so I'm guessing you don't do this very often." He had to shout over the music, in retrospect he should have listened to Daniel on how to chat girls up, but she was too cute not to try. "If you mean come to clubs and talk to strangers at the bar, no. If you mean steal the drinks of very attractive men, then yes." He could barely hear her, so he had to lean in close. Her perfume was sweet and inviting, it was as if everything she said was the most interesting thing in the world, he was captivated. He was able to take her all in, a beautiful mini skirt, it was blue and iridescent, and it barely covered anything, if an elder saw her they would claim it to be a belt. Her mesh white top didn't aid in covering her any better, it did have long sleeves sure, but you could see her lacy white bra beneath it. She clearly knew how to style herself, she had lovely little white heels on and a lot of highlighter on her cheeks. She was stunning. 
"So what are you doing here ....?" She trailed off, not knowing his name. "Lando." He almost struggled to get out, so concentrated on her. "Celebrating with some friends, What are you actually doing here, other than chatting up men?" he almost laughed out, she joined him. "Looking for some fun." She hid her face behind the glass, allowing him to see the frosty blue eyeshadow on her lids. "Is that so?" He responded in a lower octave, reaching out to touch her waist with his free hand, her back immediately arched at the feeling, he was pleased to see how well she responded to his touch. She necked her drink quickly and grabbed his wrist, going to tug him out of the club. He was shocked with how her demeaner changed, she seemed so shy, but now she wanted him so desperate. Once he caught up, she stopped her by grabbing her hips firmly. "My hotel is definitely closer." Lando said, reaching for his phone. Once they were inside the taxi, he couldn't keep his hands off of her, his tongue was basically down her throat with how much he wanted her. Once of his hands snaked up her back, running his hingers over her vertebrae, her face began to warm at the feeling. 
Lando practically dragged her out of the car towards the door of the hotel. Once the lift doors shut he pushed her against the mirrors, kissing her lips again in desperation, in the process his hands grasped he sides of her face, smudging her make up. She rested her hands on his chest before pushing him back slightly, needing air. Lando however, didn't need a break, his continued his venture of kissing every bit of exposed skin, first her neck, the collar bones, there her chest. It was at this point he could also smell her body wash and lotion, their proximity was giving him good access to her body. She began to pull on his hair slightly as a sign to come back up, she reconnected their lips while he hiked her leg up around his hip, groping her ass unapologetically. The doors opened and they rushed towards his room. They didn't stop kissing until the back of her knees hit the bed, their contact broke for a second as she fell back. This gave Lando a chance to really take her in, and she was perfect. He began to lean over her, running his fingers over her neck and jaw, until he reached her mouth, she toyed with her lips before pushing his fingers between them. She sucked lightly, not breaking eye contact, Lando's breath got caught in his mouth upon the sight, licking his lips as he felt his cock get harder in his black trousers. He slowly pulled his fingers from her lips with a loud pop. She tugged her white top over head with more pace than he thought was possible, he quickly pulled her skirt down and was met with the intricate white lace of her underwear. "Fuck me." Lando rasped out, going to pull his clothes off. "I plan to." She said back, sitting up on her knees at the edge of the bed, reaching for his cock. Lando stepped closer, rubbing the tip over lips, before lightly tapping her cheeks with it, even now he was bit of a tease. She stuck her tongue out while grasping his hip, wanting him to be still while she took his whole cock in her mouth. His head fell back slightly as he groaned feeling the tip hit the back of her throat. "That's it baby, just like that." She bobbed her head over and over, motivated by the noises that slipped his mouth. He pulled off and quickly began to glide her tongue on the underside of his cock, she kissed and kitten licked the head before taking his whole cock again. He was surprised with how eager she was, no other woman was able to take the full thing, they had to use their hands to cover the base, she didn't. Lando let out blissful sigh above her, slipping his hand over her jaw, forcing eye contact. He tightened his grip when she hollowed out her cheeks, the pressure was becoming too much for him. His hips thrusting slowly was a sign of how close he was getting. Lando's hands found the back of her head, pushing it down until her nose met his pelvic bone. He lost himself in the feeling of her mouth, his cock pulsating as he moaned out quietly. Her mouth was quickly filled with his cum. "Swallow for me." She did as she was told, looking up at him when let her tongue lull out. 
Lando groaned as he stood up, walking leisurely towards the bed side table, his hand quickly met the neck of a bottle, a bottle of Ferrari champagne. She leaned back on the bed as he slammed the bottle on table before looking back at her; spraying the bottle above her. Her skin quickly became sticky with the bubbly liquid. This gave Lando an excuse to suck on her skin again, obsessed, he needed to feel her against him. He licked his way down her abdomen, once he met her cunt he sucked her clit rather aggressively, she moaned at he contact, closing her eyes to bask in the feeling. He wasted no time slipping his fingers between her slick lips. He began to scissor slowly, hungry to hear her whines at him stretching her out. He was relentless in licking her clit, switching from slow circles to shaking his head side to side, pushing his tongue down flat and hard got the best reaction from her, so he was persistent; curling fingers every now and then to receive an extra gasp. Her heels began to dig into the mattress as her pelvis began to rise; he would gorge on the sweetness leaking out of her cunt. She was quickly becoming drunk on the feeling of her blooming pleasure; rolling out a song of moans and hums. Her hips began to twitch against his face, the orgasm was a sight to behold, let a lone something too feel as her mind began to melt as he sucked and licked aggressively. She didn't know whether she wanted to pull him closer or pull away. The stimulation was too much and she began to see stars in her new found haze, moaning out curses with a mix of his name. Lando pulled away, flashing his teeth in the process of smirking. 
Once she caught her breath, he leaned closer brining the bottle with him. "Open, baby." he tilted the bottle back, letting the champagne pour into his mouth, but his Adams apple didn't bob. He grabbed her jaw and let the alcohol spill into her mouth, she swallowed quickly, wanting to feel his lips on her, he was intoxicating, a feeling she hadn't had in a long time. She was so focused on him that she didn't register being flipped over onto her stomach. Lando pulled her hips up, supporting her weight slightly. She pushed up onto her elbows as he spoke. "You gonna be good? yeah?" he said with a tinge of sass, smacking her ass lightly. She nodded, moaning out as a verbal response. He chuckled before sliding his cock through her lips, she clawed at the now wet sheets, unable to control her self. Lando started slow needing to pace himself slightly, just kissing her got him so worked up, “Fuck.” He strained, becoming more breathless with each thrust. As he continued to press into her, she couldn’t help but clench around him, the way he was hitting all the right spots, touching her skin, groaning in pleasure, made it all that much harder not to cum then and there. His hand made contact with her ass In sequence with the thrusts, the sting was painful and yet it felt euphoric, she groaned into the bedding at the feeling.
Once he pushed in to the hilt, she arched her back further, not being able to contain herself for much longer. Hot breaths filled the air, which was already filled with sex and desire.
Lando’s hand make work up her back before drawing shapes on her shoulders. His hand soo reached her scalp, where he grabbed a fist full of her hair and tugged lightly; ensuring she wouldn’t object before he pulled rather hard, causing her back to reach his chest. He kept her hair in his hand while sucking on her neck, she wanted to feel everything and he made it happen. “Oh, please Lando, please.” She asked, gasping for air after each word.
“Why? Can’t hold it?” He teased, not that he was any better off. She just felt so good and her reactions only heightened the sensation. She whined in response as he thrusted deeper inside of her pulsating cunt. He groaned in her ear before speaking again, “you didn’t answer my question baby.” He was being cocky, but in a way he knew would only turn her on further. “I can, I swear.” Her words were slurring together, making it that much more obvious that she was on the edge of euphoria. She reached around him, grabbing his waist for some support, she could barely hold her head up anymore, the over stimulation setting in quicker than she anticipated.
Lando’s hand slid back down to her clit, aiding in the blissful feeling. Rubbing figure eights over her cunt while thrusting harder made her moan louder in between heavy breaths. He was smirking into her neck, knowing how good he was making her feel. She could feel his teeth against her skin, he was biting down, almost as if to hide his voice, muffling the groans. “That’s it baby, cum for me.” He said, voice dropping an octave for a mere second. She did as she was told, practically spasming in his arms as she let out guttural moans. The feeling of her clenching caused Lando’s cock to twitch. A mix of their cum dripped down her legs and into the bed.
“Good, so good for me. Makin me feel so good baby.” Lando whispered, pulling out. He ran his hands over her body gently, it almost tickled. By the time he got under the covers, she was already asleep; hair tangled, make up smudged and skin dotted in marks that would be hard to cover with the clothes she was wearing, or lack there of. Lando was happy, it was more than the post orgasmic haze, something about her was just right. He didn’t stop touching her, keeping his arms tight around her body to keep her warm, knowing the alcohol would wear off. He felt like he’d accomplished something more than just a win.
When Lando woke up at half past eleven, skin stuck to the bedding he was surprised and confused, until he remembered, partly, what had happened that night. He looked to his side, only to find an empty bed. He shot up, quickly looking around the room for any sign of the night. He walked through the whole “room”, past the tables and sofa, only to be met with silence. Lando walked back to the bed sorrowful, knowing his flight would leave in an hour, so he decided he needed to get ready.
Once he opened the bathroom door he first noticed it was still quite warm, it wouldn’t have been because he’d used it more than 24 hours ago. The condensation on the glass was new. Someone had definitively used his shower. Wrapping a towel around his body as he left, Lando went to his suitcase to pick up some clothes for the flight, he again noticed something was off. One of his hoodies was missing. In an attempt to find it he stumbled upon a pair of white lace underwear across the room. He was please that he didn’t imagine last night, but was disappointed she wasn’t still there. Lando was broken out of his trance when he heard the sound of a notification from his phone.
“Hope you wore a condom xx”-Daniel
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Part Two
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evansbby · 8 months
Text
another sugar daddy Ari 🫣🥵✨✨
18+ minors dni, daddy kink, age gap, smut
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Ari wasn’t a conventional sugar daddy by any means. Well, what was a conventional sugar daddy, anyways? You wouldn’t know, because this was the first time you’d ever been in an arrangement like this. You didn’t know what you expected when you signed the contract. But it’s not like you were complaining…
You weren’t complaining when he made you sit on his lap while he kissed you everywhere. Slowly, sensually, petting you like you were his little toy, while he asked you questions about your life.
“Are you enjoying college?” While he sucked on your neck.
“Tell me about your parents, how are they doing?” While he peppered kisses along your jaw.
“What extra-curriculars are you taking this semester?” As he kissed your cheek and cooed at you.
You’d tell him, being as animated as possible because he seemed to like how chatty you were. And he’d play with your hair and caress you everywhere and put his hands up your skirt or play with your bra strap. It was like you were a delectable meal that he was playing with, and he enjoyed teasing himself almost as much as he enjoyed teasing you.
“Baby, you didn’t spend any of your allowance this week.” Ari inquires one day, frowning as he enters your apartment. Well, the luxury penthouse apartment he was paying for, but he liked to call it yours and you liked having a place of your own so you never corrected him. Not that he’d appreciate you correcting him on anything anyways. Men and their egos…
You shrug, sitting up on the couch where you’d been waiting for him. He’d texted you earlier informing you that he’d cleared his schedule to meet you for lunch. And of course, you assumed lunch was code for sex, which was why you were clad in only a pretty pink lingerie set with silky ribbons and bows, along with a pair of pink high heels which Ari already couldn’t take his eyes off of.
“Sorry, daddy, I just didn’t feel like shopping.”
You cross and uncross your legs, looking up at him and biting your lip. How can you tell your sugar daddy that there’s only so many new dress, shoes or purses you can purchase in a week?
Ari huffs, “I’m gonna have to start punishing you if you don’t spend your weekly allowance, sweetheart.”
But he’s already unbuckling his belt, which makes lick your lips excitably. You’d only been in this arrangement with him for a month and a half, but he’d already got you addicted to his dick. And his mouth. His tongue. His hands…
Ari was so different from the college boys you were used to. Not only was he older, mature, experienced in how to please women, but he was also just… so rugged. And tough. Rough around the edges, so to speak. With his mane of long hair, his bristly beard and wild eyes, he was incredibly virile, handsome, and quite frankly, every girl’s wet dream.
In his 40s, he was now the big CEO hotshot of some huge company. But he’d worked for the government when he was younger, going out on international missions and doing all that dangerous, top secret stuff. But that was all he ever told you about that, and yet you could see it on his face, everything he’d been through and the things he’d seen.
He was hot-headed, impulsive and he took what he wanted when he wanted it. You weren’t complaining, because it made for some fantastic, mind-blowing sex.
Like when he’d taken you out to dinner but midway through the meal he’d decided he’d rather devour you instead, and so he’d pulled you into his lap right there and fucked you gently while he fed you pieces of steak. Luckily, the two of you were in a corner booth. Unluckily, most of the wait-staff had seen, but Ari left them a hefty tip to make sure they never mentioned it again.
Or the time he’d come to pick you up from campus, only to see you talking to one of the boys from your history class. That was the day you’d found out how jealous Ari Levinson was capable of being. He’d slung you over his lap and spanked your ass raw for the better part of the journey home. His limo driver had drawn the partition, and you’d cried until your daddy pulled you upright, kissed your face and told you it way okay.
Or, the time you’d forgot to call him daddy during sex once, which was very much against the rules. Ari wanted you to call him daddy and nothing else when inside the bedroom. Which was why he’d tied you up and aggressively licked your cunt till your legs were shaking and you were on the brink of passing out, and the only word you were able to utter was “daddy.”
Back in the present, Ari allows his pants to drop to the floor along with his boxers, and he gives you a meaningful look.
“Daddy’s had a long day and wants you to suck his dick, sweetheart.”
You sink down to your knees, trying to be sexy about it and you know he appreciates that. You love how he can’t take his eyes off your body, how the lingerie hugs your curves and pushes your breasts up. How tantalising your cleavage looks, especially with you on your knees in front of him. You know Ari loves your body, and loves buying you pretty, revealing things so he can show you off to all his friends and colleagues.
You grab hold of his big dick, throat already hurting at the thought of having that inside your mouth. You loved his dick because it was pretty and brought you so much pleasure, but it was also so insanely big, and Ari loved to make you choke on it. Which happened every time you gave him a blowjob because you still weren’t used to his size, and he preferred you taking all of it in till you couldn’t breathe. You knew he loved it when you couldn’t breathe, when his enormous dick was suffocating you…
“And then after you do that, you’re going to sit on my lap and scroll through my phone till you’ve found some nice things to spend your allowance on. Got that, gorgeous?”
You nod submissively, and Ari smirks. He’s still got his belt in his hand and he loops it around your neck, tightening it till it’s incredibly snug. And just being there, by his feet with a makeshift leash around your neck gets you wetter than it should.
“Such a good little girl,” Ari grunts, grabbing a fistful of your hair as you take his cock into your mouth. Giving Ari a blowjob is always a messy affair, and soon enough, he’s thrusting in and out of your mouth at top speed, muttering profanities while he orders you to keep your eyes on his.
He rubs his dick all over your face, smearing your cheeks and nose with his precum and your own spit. He slaps you across the face with his cock, chuckling breathlessly when you pout because he knows how wet it gets you. And he grabs your hair, pushing you down till your deep-throating him, your nose pressed against his pelvis till you can’t breathe and you begin to flail your limbs.
But his belt around your neck keeps you in place, as does his constant praises “What a good little girl,” “daddy loves how well you take my dick,” “you’re so good for me, baby. So sexy and cute when you’ve got my dick down your throat.”
He cums on your face and doesn’t let you clean it off. He tells you that you look beautiful like this, and then, true to his word, sits you down on his lap and hands you his phone. You scroll through one expensive brand website after another, all while he plays with your lingerie, petting and kissing you how he loves to, and telling you how sexy you are with his cum on your face.
“Sweetheart, if it was up to me, I’d have you in nothing except covered in diamonds, and my cum on your face.”
He immediately orders you an expensive pair of diamond earrings from Cartier (as if you haven’t already got two whole jewellery boxes full of diamonds and pearls and sapphire and what not — all from Ari of course). And then he insists that the earrings were his gift to you, and that you still need to spend your allowance.
After a lot of pouting and grumbling, and some reprimanding smacks to your bottom later, you’ve let him buy you two Chanel handbags, a dress from Versace’s newest Resort collection (not even in stores yet, but Ari had his connections), as well as five new pairs of shoes (all high heels, of course).
“Now was that so hard, baby?”
“I guess not. But I’m gonna run out of space soon, with all the things you keep buying me.”
Ari scoffs, “I have another apartment in the upper east side. You can use it as your shoe closet.”
“You’re really into the heels, aren’t you, daddy?” You tease, twirling your bare legs in the air, your heels catching the light and you feel Ari getting hard again. He grabs your ankle suddenly, pressing kisses up your calf while you gasp and squirm in his lap. His bonded digs at your ass and his hands fondle you everywhere, tugging at your lingerie before he abruptly stops himself.
“Baby, go wait for me inside the bedroom. Everything off except the shoes. And lie on the bed for me with your legs spread out.”
You raise an eyebrow, “That’s awfully specific, daddy—OW!”
He smacks your ass four times in quick succession.
“Go. Now. I’ve got the rest of the day off and daddy plans to fuck your little pussy till I’ve had my fill. Which won’t be any time soon, so take a couple of bottles of water with you too.”
***
JSJDSJSKSKSK THE END IDK I AM IN SYCH A SUGAR DADDY ARI MOOD BYE.
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