Cheriimo - Gab

(x)

HIGH & DRY | PT 2

another blunt, another step over the blurred lines between friendship and romance. read part one here

it’s been a few weeks. maybe longer.

you realized that time gets weird when you’re trying to avoid something you’re not ready to name, with someone you’re not used to being apart from.

but, inevitably, here you are - same bedroom, same lazy sun slicing through the blinds, same warm smoke swirling through the air.

the awkward tension, though? that’s new.

you’re sitting beside hamzah again, shoulders touching, thighs close but not overlapping. a fresh blunt hangs from his lips as he flicks the lighter alive - this’ll be your second, and you both went heavy on the first - to make up for lost time, maybe.

he takes a long drag, leans his head back, and exhales slow. the wisp of smoke curls above your head.

“been thinkin’ about last time,” he says suddenly, voice rough.

you slowly blink, letting the words sink in. hesitantly, you turn your head to look at him. “yeah?” you reply vaguely.

he glances at you from the corner of his eye, but doesn’t fully look at you. “yeah.”

you take the blunt when he silently offers it to you, your fingers brushing during the exchange. you bring it to your mouth, inhale, then hold it in.

“what part?” you ask quietly.

“c’mon,” he scoffs, the hint of smirk ghosting across his lips. “you know what part.”

you do. you definitely know.

but you exhale slowly like it’s nothing, letting the smoke pour from your lips. “we didn’t even do anything.” you mutter.

hamzah fully turns toward you now, his body angled, one arm slung over the back of the bed. his eyes are deeply red and half-lidded, but still focused.

“exactly,” he says lowly. “that’s the problem. that’s why i can’t stop thinking about it.”

your pulse skips. you shift a little, not enough to make a scene, but he notices anyway. he always does.

“we could, uh..” he pauses, biting the inside of his cheek. “not do anything again.”

you raise your brows.

he clears his throat. “like - you could just sit on me.”

you blink, a hint of confusion crossing your countenance.

“on my.. y’know,” he clarifies, gesturing vaguely to his lap. “just sit, nothin’ else. i won’t even move.”

“that’s not ‘nothing,’” you say, lips curving slightly upwards at his twisted logic.

“but it’s not sex,” he argues. “not technically.”

you narrow your eyes at him, but you’re fully grinning now. “you sound really dumb right now.”

he shrugs. “we’re already high. we’re allowed to be dumb.”

you hold the blunt out to him, eyes sharp. “but what happens when you can’t sit still?”

his smile spreads lazily across his face as he takes it back from you. “dunno. we’ll see.”

you’re straddling him a few minutes later, slowly sinking onto his cock with a soft, shared breath like you’re both easing into warm water.

his hands are on your thighs, steadying you as you take him in, inch by inch. you feel full immediately, your breath catching in your throat as you settle against him.

you’re both still clothed. his sweats are shoved down just enough. your underwear and shorts are lazily tugged aside.

but you’re skin to skin where it counts.

he’s thick and warm inside you, and you don’t move. neither does he.

you just sit there, bodies molded into each other like it’s natural, like this is just another way to be high together. like this is just something that best friends do on occasion.

hamzah leans back against the wall, head tilted up, exhaling smoke slowly past his parted lips. “holy fuck.”

you laugh quietly, resting your hands on his chest. “you good?”

he looks at you hazy, red-rimmed eyes. “yeah. s’just..” he trails off, swallowing hard. “really warm.”

you reach for the blunt, take another hit, pass it back. he accepts it from your fingers like a ritual, and smokes while he’s inside you.

you two are just smoking together, per usual.

the only difference is that his cock is pressing into you so deeply, your mind is starting to melt.

minutes pass, exactly like that. slow and hazy. you manage to stay still - both of you are too high to rush, too obsessed with the strange intimacy of it all.

until he shifts.

just a little. barely a flex of his hips.

it still makes you gasp involuntarily, your teeth instinctively pinching down on your bottom lip.

“accident,” he mutters, his gaze fixated on your mouth. “kinda.” he adds with a teasing grin.

your narrow your eyes at him, furrowing your brows in frustration. “don’t do that.”

he smirks again, a clear sign that he’s not going to listen to you. and then - of course - directly opposing your wishes, he does it again.

it’s a slow, controlled roll of his hips that has your breath lodged in your throat and your thighs clenching around him.

“hamzah.” you hiss, sucking in a sharp inhale though your clenched teeth.

“not movin’,” he muses, even as his hands grip your ass and roll you down into him again.

the blunt’s long gone now, fizzled out somewhere in the ashtray - forgotten, just like your original agreement to stay still.

now he’s actually fucking into you, slow and deep, your bodies flush, sticky, and buzzing with heat.

your head falls onto his shoulder, your breath shaky in his ear. “you’re a fuckin’ liar,” you whisper, even as you grind down onto him without thinking.

he’s breathing heavy, and his voice comes out small. “still don’t think this counts as sex.”

you’re about to reply when your phone starts vibrating, the noise rattling through the air.

you both freeze. a name lights up across your screen: mandy.

your eyes widen. hamzah simply grins, evil and amused.

“answer it.” he whispers.

you shake your head immediately. “no, are you crazy?”

“c’mon,” he coaxes, thrusting up just once, sharp and slow.

you gasp, your free hand scrambling for your phone on the bedside table while your other one grips at the fabric of his hoodie. “fuck. you’re such an asshole.”

“answer it,” he repeats in a murmur against your neck, the same teasing edge evident in his tone. “and keep your fuckin’ voice down.”

begrudgingly, you hit accept and hold your phone to your ear.

“hey!” mandy chirps, way too loud for the situation you’re currently in. “we’re still going to brunch tomorrow, right?”

hamzah fucks up into you again.

your mouth falls open but no sound comes out. you weakly clear your throat. “y-yeah. yeah, for sure..”

his hand slides up your back beneath your shirt, the other gripping your hip as he moves again. you slap your hand over your mouth, stifling a moan.

“babe, are you okay? you sound out of breath.”

“i’m fine,” you breathe out, trying to not give away the fact that hamzah’s pushing into you at a pace that’s making your thighs tremble.

“okay, cool!” mandy’s voice is all sunshine on the other end of the phone. “you good with our normal place? i got us a reservation already.”

you shudder and squeak out, “perfect, that’s-” hamzah thrusts deeper in the middle of your sentence. “mmh! - perfect..”

“are you sure you’re okay?” mandy asks again.

“i’m - yeah, i’m-”

hamzah does it again and you whimper, digging your nails into his shoulder with a glare. he simply laughs, leaning in to press a kiss to your neck.

“m-mandy, i gotta go,” you gasp. “uh, it’s.. an emergency. love you, bye.”

you hang up before she can say anything else, dropping your phone on the bed.

hamzah’s immediately moving again, his hands locked on your hips, his mouth dragging down your throat.

neither of you are pretending anymore.

he’s deep inside you, rhythm getting rougher, breath getting heavier, when it hits you - how close that just was.

your hand is still shaking from the phone call, your skin buzzing, but the high is starting to twist into something sharper.

anxiety. awareness.

you pull back just slightly, your hands pressing against his chest. “shit.”

hamzah doesn’t stop right away - he’s too far gone, hips still grinding up into you, but your voice brings him back a little. “what?”

you look at him, heart hammering now for a totally different reason. “she knew something was off. if i’d messed up any more..”

he swallows, blinking quickly like he’s trying to sober up. “yeah. yeah, okay, you’re right. fuck.”

his hands slide off your hips slowly, like he’s just realizing how far he let himself go. you stay where you are for a second longer, still straddling him, still full of him - but now you’re both frozen still.

“we really almost got caught. again.” you whisper, staring at him.

he laughs sheepishly under his breath. “yeah. that would’ve been.. bad. martin already saw us last time.”

you finally lift yourself off him, legs shaking slightly, and collapse beside him in a warm, hazy heap. neither of you say anything for a moment.

then hamzah mutters, “mandy’s totally gonna interrogate you.”

you let out a breathless laugh, covering your flushed face with one hand. “trust me, i know.”

xoxo giulia

taglist: @gulicore @slushedup @arroganceisherfavoritecolor @layzerzlovesu46 @babysitter19 @marixoa @starjely @viennawaiits @a1exaaaa @freakzah444 @anginluv @gabwilliams @sturniyolo @screamertannie @brlwla @yourstrulykiya @thefantastickid @hamzaholic @isathefantastic @divinesturn @forestlv4r @mayapuma20 @ottakugirl @hamzahsbestone @pulcen @rustnroll @venus-planetof-love @nickmillersn1gf @rock678 @wandas-lovey @guiltyfemcel @axetheboyboss @harrys0nlyange1

would u ever do another part to the teaching some lessons series 🥹🥹

my lord, it's been so long since i wrote for yuuji but i love him sm to decline this opportunity. so, here you go. some filth for ya <3

🌸a lesson in jealousy!

synopsis: yuuji itadori knew he was lucky, knew that he was dating the most loyal girl ever, knew that his brother and you were nothing more than best-friends — knew all of that and yet, couldn't help but clench his jaw and fuck you into that ruined couch — jealous. pairing: afab!reader x itadori yuuji [aged up.] wc: 5.2k cw: MDNI. MDNI. MDNI. nsfw includes: jealousy, penetration, edging and denial, rough smex, pussydrunk!yuuji, slight bimbofication, yuuji's super-strength and stamina, yuuji is insecure, and sukuna is a brat as always. have fun. m.list

yuuji itadori was not a jealous man.

he was a bit dense, a bit too optimistic for his own good, maybe a teensy bit territorial — sure. but jealous? nah.

that was before sukuna made him reconsider his beliefs.

｡･:*˚:✧｡

strike 0.

"yuu, does this dress look good on me?" your voice shook with impatience, eyes sifting over your boyfriend's hunched form as he sat on your couch.

"hm?" the jock looked up from his phone, gaze all but devouring you as you stood before him.

you were beautiful, always were.

no matter when yuuji itadori looked at you, he was blown away like it was his first, like he was a kid on the playground who had just been offered ice-cream on a sweltering, hot day.

he nodded enthusiastically, a broad smile across his lips, "good is an understatement, babe. you look fuckin' amazing."

and he meant it. he always meant it.

"are you sure?" a soft pout fell across your lips, and you turned around as if to display yourself once more, giving him one more chance to take back his claim.

and despite not complaining about your little show, he muttered, "dead sure, babe."

"really? you're sure sure?" you tried again, getting the jock to swallow down his own words.

"yes—" yuuji tried to plead his case, tried to tell you that you were the love of his life even in a trash bag and aluminium foil accessories, but you cut him off.

"—cause 'kuna said it made me look fat."

'kuna.'

"huh?" and though the quarterback knew better than that, his eyebrow twitched at the mention of his brother's name. chucking the uncomfortable itch that crawled at the back of his throat down his stomach, yuuji laughed, "he's stupid, you know that."

"i knoww..." you drawled the word, your soft palms finding purchase against your waist as your unsure gaze tangled against his. you drew closer, till your sweet perfume permeated his figure, "but what if kuna's right..?"

pang!

there it was, that fucking little, fluttering feeling that traveled from yuuji's brains to his biceps, then to his ribs and finally settled somewhere in his lungs. was it annoyance? maybe irritation? or jeal— no. not that.

"i mean—" you huffed, smoothing the dress over your stomach once more as you peered down at him, "be honest with me, yuu. its my first christmas with your family, i wanna make a good impression."

the scar under his eyes twitched wickedly, flexing with the muscles of his cheeks as he put on a stained smile, "you've known them for ages."

"not as your girlfriend. they know me as kuna's best friend and he doesn't exactly have the best... eh, reputation..? yes. reputation." you refuted yet again, and yuuji would have laughed at your persistence to prove him wrong had it not been for that uncomfortable itch in his lungs.

'kuna's best friend.'

a slight tick built up in his jaw, his bones weighing down with your careless words, and breaths a stuttered falsetto.

nonetheless, yuuji extended his muscled arms, pulling you in to softly perch you on his steady lap.

nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck, the man hoped that the embers of anger frolicking about in his irises weren't evident in his voice, "who cares about sukuna? he's a mean fucking asshole."

shit. he could pick up on the slight edge to his tone, he just hoped you couldn't. what would you think of him if you knew the way he was feeling..?

after all, it's not like yuuji was jealous of his own brother or something. obviously not.

"i know." you raked your manicured fingers down his pinkish locks, and yuuji pasted chaste kisses to your exposed skin.

no longer was he the 6'2, hulking quarterback who would whoop someone's ass with one swift punch, but rather the same boy who had grown up with a massive crush on you. the same boy who had stayed up nights upon nights dreaming about the day you'd be his. the same boy who spent years in shadow as sukuna's ditzy younger brother before you liked him back.

but who cares about the past? you were his now, weren't you? and that was enough.

that was enough, right..?

he was knocked out of his sweet bliss when your voice kissed his ears, "i know it's dumb... but i think i'll just return it."

you didn't say the rest of the sentence, but yuuji found himself completing it in his head: 'but i'll just return it... cause sukuna said it didn't look nice.'

fuck sukuna.

｡･:*˚:✧｡

strike 1.

yuuji itadori hated the holidays with his family.

well, no, that was a lie. he hated the holidays this year.

every other year building up to now, yuuji was the first to help choso bring the tree and decorate it, first to help his dad cook and clean, and first to yell at sukuna for being a massive dick even through the holiday spirit.

well... given it was the season of giving, sukuna sure did his part by giving yuuji something — a fucking headache, or heartburn, or pure, unadulterated murderous rage.

point being, yuuji loved the holidays. he just hated how comfortably sukuna sat on the couch while you were sitting on the ground, both of you flipping through the ancient photo albums that choso-nii had insisted to unearth from the attic this morning.

it didn't matter that he was sitting next to you, it didn't matter when he could practically hear sukuna breathing on his fucking back, muttering jokes only you laughed at.

why was that man so close to you, anyways?

"oh my fucking god," you giggled — unaware of the very devil sitting behind you.

flipping through the pages of the scrapbook choso-nii had made when you all were still far too young, your index ran across the smooth texture of the photos, eyes trying to remember the incidents as if they had happened yesterday.

you pointed to the next photo with a sudden chirp, "and oh— yuu," you smiled, "that's you."

and it sure was yuuji itadori, aged two.

clad in an onesie, the small, pink-haired toddler was sitting next to you in the picture. you were playing with blocks, and when the picture was taken — yuuji had effectively knocked the tower of blocks over. you were crying next to him, blubbering with teary eyes and reddened nose while yuuji just gawked at you like a fool.

"that's me..." yuuji found heat run to the apples of his cheek, "yeah. sorry about that—"

"—knocking my blocks over?" you laughed, and yuuji almost considered building a time machine to go back in time and not knocking those blocks over.

you patted his thigh softly, "don't worry about it yuu, i forgive you."

"still don't understand what dad's fascination was with taking photos at awkward times." choso quipped from his spot next to jin in the kitchen. the pale, tattooed man was whisking batter for the cookies as jin was simmering something in a pan. jin itadori laughed at his eldest son's question, "well, it makes for good memories."

"sure does, dad." the three brothers almost replied in unison.

"and this—" you pointed to a photo of you and sukuna covered in mud, smiling at the camera with broken teeth and scrunched noses.

you looked over your shoulder, meeting the delinquent's eyes, "we got yelled so bad for this one, kuna."

"i remember that too." yuuji's dad piped up from the kitchen, stirring the pot with a rambunctious laugh, "i mean, i was there."

"still think it was an over-exaggeration." sukuna huffed, cracking his knuckles as he peered at the photos from over your shoulder, "we just ate some mud, what's the big deal? i mean— i turned out fine."

"hardly." yuuji muttered.

"what was that, brat?" sukuna cocked at eyebrow from where he sat on the couch, "talking 'bout yourself?"

yuuji found himself pressing his lips in a straight line, an unbroken resolve in the cresses of his face, "there's a reason nobody likes you, y'know?"

"your girlfriend does."

"hey—" you turned around to smack sukuna on his knee, even though a laugh had escaped past your lips, "shut up, kuna."

yuuji felt his nails biting into his palms with the force he fisted his hand with.

sukuna raised an eyebrow at his younger brother's reaction, stifling in a hearty, annoying laugh. "what? jealous, brat?"

jealous? obviously not.

it's just some unknown red, hot feeling that ran it's way across yuuji's body and charred it whole — it wasn't jealousy.

yuuji itadori didn't get jealous.

｡･:*˚:✧｡

strike 02.

"this is a terrible idea." you huffed, eyes strained against your green-haired-upto-no-good roommate. you repeated, "te-rri-ble."

"shut up," maki scoffed, a roll of her eyes following soon after, "it sounds fun."

what sounds fun, you may ask?

you see at a small friends-only gathering at your shared apartment, your flatmate — maki zenin had suggested with all her mighty braincell prowess, "hey, why don't we see who knows you more? your boyfriend, or your bestfriend?"

everyone had agreed — from maki's crush kugisaki to the black-haired ball of emo-ness, fushiguro. everyone had accepted except for you.

"absolutely not." you repeated yet again, and maki zenin scowled, "what a fuckin' killjoy— it's totally gonna be fun."

knowing maki, you knew she was doing this purely for her entertainment and nobody else's. this game would be fun for her.

you were sure there was something in the zenin's blood that made others suffering utterly amusing to them.

"i mean i'm down for it." yuuji shrugged, an unwavering faith in his voice, "i know i'm not losing."

"yeah?" sukuna rested the tip of his tongue against his sharp canines, almost laughing at yuuji's audacity to think that highly of himself. "ya think you'd win? i've known her 20 years. you even know how to count to 20, dumbass?"

see, despite being older in age, sukuna was definitely not the smartest tool in the shed — and yuuji knew that. so, as an act of self-preservation, yuuji let that comment go without further arguments.

instead, your boyfriend had just smiled at you reassuringly, "we should play, babe. i'm sure it'll be fun."

"yeah, loosen up." sukuna commented soon after, sipping the cheap booze, "it's not like me and yuuji will start a fight over this crap."

"fine." you had given up by the end, leaving the boys with their massive egos and terrible decision-making tendencies. you crossed your arms, vowing an unbreakable oath, "but i swear to god if you two get in a fight after this, i'm not gonna break it up."

that was five minutes ago, and now—

"—are you fuckin' stupid?" sukuna's eyes narrowed at his brother, "she obviously likes the mountains more."

"nah." yuuji retorted, dead sure in his assumptions, "beaches."

"mountains—"

"—yuuji's right." you dismissed the argument with a simple flick of your fingers, and yuuji grinned at the outcome: 3-4.

"next question." maki clapped her hands to draw attention to herself, "oh, this one should be fairly easy." she paused for dramatic effect, putting on a showbiz voice, "how many guys has she kissed?"

"three." yuuji simply answered, and sukuna waved him off with a cashmere, all-knowing grin, "nuh uh, five."

yuuji's eyebrows bunched, his eyes resting on you with a question: five?

"it's three." yuuji stated definitively and you shook your head, "kuna's right. the score is now 4-4."

you nodded as to acknowledge sukuna's nonchalant victory, and you swore your boyfriend's jaw slacked open at your words.

wobbling words and ticking jaw, yuuji itadori looked at you as if you had betrayed him, "w-wait, but i only know three."

"i've only seriously made out with three guys." you answered honestly, "rest two were when i was drunk, i don't even remember them."

"wait... why didn't you tell me that, though?" yuuji tried asking but already had the answer on the tip of your tongue.

"i was drunk, babe." you gave a half-impressed nod to sukuna, "I'm surprised sukuna remembers them too, given how shit-faced drunk he got each time."

"but—" your boyfriend tried yet again but the conversation had moved along.

now, sukuna was piping up about something that had happened when you and him were shit-faced drunk, and you and maki were laughing at his recounts.

heck, even fushiguro had cracked a smile. what the fuck?!

"holy shit." you face-palmed, laughing hysterically at whatever drunken adventure you two had embarked on without yuuji. you tried catching your breath, clutching your chest with your manicured hands, "a-and there was this buff dude— hah, ohmygod—"

sukuna added onto your story, nodding— and yuuji felt his blood boil.

yuuji itadori knew nothing had ever happened between you and sukuna. your drunken nights were just tomfoolery, your jokes were just jokes but... what if?

what if sukuna was one of the men you had kissed when drunk? what if he was more than that? what if yuuji was just a mistake and sukuna was the man for you?

what if..?

yuuji's ear's buzzed, blood roared through his veins and his bones rattled in a cursed rhythm as his erratic gaze shifted from one person to the next.

everyone was laughing.

yuuji itadori felt their — your laughter pierce through his skin and lodge square in his heart. for a minute, it felt as if the entire world was in on a massive joke and he was the only one left out.

at last, yuuji's gaze landed on sukuna. the hulking delinquent had a self-satisfying smile on his face as he yapped on and on and on—

a pulsating pain built in yuuji's palm as he felt himself squeezing down on something. his biceps bulged, a vein almost popping in his neck from the force he was exerting.

what if yuuji itadori was the butt of the joke he was being left out of?

"—yuuji?" you put a soft hand on his bicep, pulling him out of his entranced state. concern wrapped around your words like ivy, your laughter completely wiped off, "are you okay..?"

"y-huh?" the jock blinked once, twice, then once more before he could even process what you just said.

the roar in his ears subsided, the warmth in his face dissipated, and it was as the anger slipped off of his tired muscles did yuuji itadori realize that he had broke the arm of your couch with his mindless grasp.

"yuuji—" kugisaki heaved, panicked. and megumi stood up soon after, his words jittery, "itadori..?"

everyone was staring.

"shit—" his eyes travelled to the wooden splinters that had crumbled under the expanse of his muscles. frenzied eyes running from his palms to your scared face, he almost lost his voice, "s-sorry. 'm so sorry... i dunno— how."

you knelt down, nimble hands coming to take his larger palm in yours gently, "yuu—" panic overwrote every syllable of yours but your eyes stayed trained against his, "are you okay?! should we—"

"—no." yuuji pulled his hand back to his chest, shaking his head, "i'm fine... i'm okay. no."

everyone was fucking staring.

standing up, the jock almost felt too light-headed to even process what pain he was in. all he knew was that he needed to get away, and get away soon.

"i—" his mouth grew drier, words dying at the tip of his tongue as everyone's eyes bore onto his frame.

turning around, scrambling for the exit, the quarterback barely managed out an excuse, "i'll pay for that later."

before yuuji slammed the door behind himself, he heard sukuna's voice boom behind him, "yuuji, slow down."

but even the slightest sound of his brother's voice — no matter concern or mockery were enough to set his cells ablaze with a nerve-racking thunder.

yuuji itadori was probably jealous, and jealousy was unbecoming of a man.

｡･:*˚:✧｡

strike 03.

months had passed by, the arm of the couch changed and the incident had been long forgotten.

yuuji itadori had even successfully got you to belief that for a second that night, his 'super-strength' had activated. heck, he had even claimed to be the main character of a shounen manga in some parallel universe, and reasoned that perhaps he was fighting someone somewhere that night.

stupid man — that's what you had called him and yet the way you had doted on him for the next couple of days had turned any of his guilt on wrecking the furniture turn to an unsung victory.

what's a piece of furniture compared to his girlfriend, anyways?

you had sat yourself down on his lap, facing him as your trapped his cheeks between your palms as you had sighed, "i'm sorry i didn't tell you about those two extra kisses. i was just, um kinda scared if you'd judge me for drunk-kissing random guys."

"you drunk-kissed me too."

you winced, half-nodding at his words, "fair point."

but instead of judgement or scrutiny, yuuji had given you a broad smile, reassuring you with a soft kiss to your palm, "why would i ever judge you over that, babe? i'm just happy you told me now."

and that had been that. the incident had passed. it had been months. the couch had been repaired. you two had talked it out. that bitter feeling inside of yuuji had died. it had died.

so, why was it coming back with vengeance tonight?

he mumbled your name into the thick air, trying to call out to you over the beats and hollers, trying to talk sense into you.

you were at some house-party that a friend of a friend of sukuna's was hosting. the delinquent had dragged you two with him, and despite not knowing the dude, you had drank his booze and were now swaying to the beats on his darkened dance floor.

neon lights flashed over you in the sea of unknown bodies as yuuji wrapped his beefy arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

the pink-haired jock dropped his face in the crook of your neck, his mouth nipping softly against your pulse-points, "you should drink some water."

"mhmm, don' care." you groaned, turning around to wrap your arms around his neck as he looked down at you. waves of lust rocked your body and yuuji felt like you'd devoured him whole on that very dance-floor had it not been for the charges of public indecency. your words slurred deliciously, "i don' wan' water— wan' you."

yuuji laughed at your words, bringing his head down again to gently talk you through it, "but you do need water, babe. wait here and i'll get you some, okay?"

and despite your pout, yuuji patted your arm and let go of you with a soft kiss to your cheek.

the neon flashed in his irises, and his hazy vision couldn't quite keep up with your dancing figure as he eventually disappeared within the throbbing crowd. looking back once, twice, he had lost track of you completely by the time he reached the kitchen.

"water?" yuuji found himself confusedly asking another person for where the water was. "yeah, one bottle's enough. thanks, man."

yuuji navigated the stirring crowds with chants of 'sorry's and 'excuse me's lined up, with his eyes searching for your figure.

he wasn't worried about leaving you alone drunk. at worst, you'd be dancing. at best, you'd be standing still.

oh... except, he forgot to consider sukuna in his worst case scenario.

there he was — that fucking delinquent — leaning down to whisper something in your ear as you barked out a drunken laugh with a rough swat to sukuna's tattooed arm.

the plastic in yuuji's palm felt awfully easy to crush, but yuuji itadori decided to keep his cool.

heavy footsteps rung against the floor as he stepped towards you, scanning your figure. there was a glimmering glass in your hands, a matching one in sukuna's.

was sukuna getting you more drunk? why, that fucking asshole—

shit. calm down, yuuji.

"—hey." yuuji grit his teeth, giving sukuna a half-baked smile, "i don't think she should be drinking more."

"ah," the older itadori rolled his eyes, waving his younger brother off as if he was a waft of air, "calm down, it's just one more glass."

but yuuji pulled the glass from your nimble grasp, even when you pouted and reached out for it again. he swiftly replaced it with the bottle he had brought, "no, have this."

the jock never once let his gaze drop from his brother as he grunted, "i think it's enough. she has had more than enough."

"calm down, brat." sukuna repeated, giving his own glass in your hand, "she's a tough girl, she can handle herself."

yuuji itadori was sure a vein had popped somewhere in his neck as he found stepping towards his brother, grin feral, "i think you should stay out of my girlfriend's business."

"your girl—girlfriend..? hah—" sukuna laughed, and yuuji almost considered homicide to not be half-bad, "what's so fuckin' funny?"

"nothing." sukuna shook his head, still laughing about whatever delirious shit he was on about. the tatted man sucked in a breath, "it's just... if you two break up, i'll still be her best friend, and you'd..." he hummed, "you'd be nothing to her."

whatever happened after that is a blur to yuuji itadori.

all he knew is that he hadn't hit sukuna — or someone else, for that matter. he had simply clutched your wrist in his, dragging you out of that godforsaken party even as you called out his name every now and then. he had driven his car through the learned pathways in the dead of the night and now, he was jamming your key through your apartment door to let you both in.

creaaak!

the heavy door opened and yuuji pushed it to let himself in, still holding your hand in his wrist.

"yuu—" you mumbled, still dazed from all the alcohol as you trailed behind him and into your living room.

ignoring you, the jock disappeared into your kitchen after putting your purse down on the coffee table.

as you sat on the couch, trying to undo the heels off of your aching feet, he showed up with a glass of water.

you looked up at him, the whites of your eyes tinted the slightest red, "what..?"

"drink some water." yuuji commanded coldly, and your brows furrowed at his demeanor, "are you... mad at me?"

"no. don't worry." sighing, the jock bent down and undid the clasp easily. his eyes didn't meet yours as he stood back up and gave you another instruction, "just go to sleep after this, okay? you need some rest."

"but yuuji..." you pouted, drawing your palm to his wrist to stop him, "wh-where are you going..?"

maybe if you had been in a better state of mind, you would have noticed your boyfriend's clenched jaw and fisted hands, you would have heard the restraint in his words as he heaved out, "back home."

"but why?"

why?

yuuji itadori still did not meet your eyes, "I'm just not in the mood to hang out."

"but—"

"listen," the jock finally met your gaze, a silent warning imprinted onto his irises, "if i stay here, i'll end up doing something i regret."

"like..?" you still looked up at him oh-so-clueless, and yuuji couldn't help but crack open a strained smile, repeating, "like?"

like this.

"fu-fuck fuu k—" your breath hitched, eyes glossing over as it became harder and harder to breathe. your voice was muffled against the couch, the fabric eating away at whatever semblance of sanity you possessed.

yuuji splayed his palm on the back of your head, pushing it down and down into the fabric with reckless abandon as he fucked into your sopping cunt.

"tell me—" the jock grunted, using another hand to smack the delicious curve of your ass, "what is it hah about that bastard — 'kuna''", he heaved, mocking you, " that I don't fuckin' have, huh?"

"yuuji—" you tried but your mouth felt so awfully dry, your moans lodged in your throat helplessly as your boyfriend pressed your face further into the couch. trying again, you panted, "ple-please yuu—"

smack!

"hngh— fuck mmph—" your body jolted in retort as yuuji planted another smack to your ass, immediately soothing the skin with his broad hands.

your eyes burned, cheek rubbing against the couch fabric so helplessly as you tried clawing at whatever you could find.

manicured fingers dug into the the couch, and yuuji chased your actions mercilessly with deep plunges inside your quivering cunt. he growled out, "answer my fucking question."

but you were rendered useless.

your vision was growing hazy, air supply cut off from the way your face was pressed up and into the sofa. despite the sizzling hot sting against your ass, and the stretch of your thighs, a gnawing feeling churned in the pit of your stomach.

"ca-can't breathe—" your rasped, your manicured nails still digging into the soft surface as you tried to shake your boyfriend off of yourself with helpless trembles, "g-get off—"

"can't breathe?" yuuji repeated, using one broad hand to catch both of your wrists and pin them behind your back. vision misty, and light-headed — suddenly, you were pulled up into something hard.

despite his harsh actions, despite the relentless rolls of his cock into your gummy walls, yuuji husked behind you, "better?"

and you nodded, too cockdrunk to stop the man from using you like his personal fleshlight.

your boyfriend's heat radiated out of his chest and seeped into your aching bones as his cock still rammed into your heat. you finally breathed, inhaling deep breaths before the smacks of his pelvis against yours made you shake yet again.

your writhed your wrists, fighting against his phantom-like grip on you as your muscles spasmed and contracted, "y-yuu 'mgonna shit— 'm— cummin cummin'—"

"huh?" the jock gasped as your snug cunt pulsated around his rigid member. each little spasm of your walls against his ridged veins made the jock plow into you harder, "hah, cumming?"

you nodded, shivering and straining against his iron grip, "so close 'm so— close."

and then he stopped.

yuuji itadori pulled out of your snug cunt in one swift snap of his hips, leaving your syrupy folds clenching around thick air — so easily abandoned.

you turned your head back, jaw sagging open in a helpless whimper as tears brimmed your eyes, "wh-why'd you sto-p..?"

but the younger itadori was in the mood for no games tonight. flipping you onto your back, the man threw you onto the couch as if you weighed nothing to him.

"yuu—" your breath trembled as you tried supporting your jelly-like body on your elbows, staring up at the man who held held no remorse in his eyes for the way he was destroying you.

his hair was matted, locks clinging onto his forehead as drops of dew clung onto his skin. his skin was dusted pink, as his heavy cockhead smeared drops of his pre against his thigh.

"you know..." yuuji husked, tugging his mushroom tip lazily as he stared down at your shaky physique, "you still haven't answered my question."

"wh-what question?"

and yuuji cocked an eyebrow despite knowing better than to blame you for how mush-brained state.

the man guided his leaky tip to your hooded clit, massaging the thundering nub in slow circles, "what is it about kuna that's so much better than me, huh?"

"i d-dunno... what're y-you saying..?" you bit your wobbling lips, blinking your eyes so slow as he kept nudging his tip against your sensitive bud, "he's... he's just my best-frie..nd oh—"

"awh, he's your best-f-friend?" yuuji repeated, now tracing his tip in skilled eight shapes, "that's it..?"

and despite having half a mind, you nodded desperately, "y-yeah, yuu."

"tch," the man traced his tip downwards, collecting your honeydew on his hardened cock before plunging within your heat in one swift motion.

you gasped, toes curling as the younger itadori found himself ramming a bruising pace into your sopping entrance, "fu-fuck s-slower—"

but yuuji itadori was in no mood for mercy. bringing up a sharp hand to your face, he pulled your cheeks into a forced pout, "if he's just your best-f-friend, hah why is that fucker always just— hovering around?"

"i—" you tried to speak but your words were a wet gargle, constricting within your throat at his harsh actions, "mm—"

"can't speak?" and somehow your frenzied nod just made itadori clutch your skin in his grasp tighter — till he was sure he was indenting your face with his fingerprints.

"yuuji—" you groaned, words still so hard to come-by as he kept fucking you dumber and dumber. but at this point, yuuji didn't even bother knowing your answer, instead pussydrunkenly rambling on, "a-and the fuck is he so cocky about? you're my girlfriend, right? arent'cha?"

you nodded, and he pressed a sickly sweet kiss to your forced pout, "attagirl."

but he continued rambling, his words forgone and stupid, "and fuck does he think? that just— just cause he knows you longer, he—" yuuji nodded at you, "right? i've known you the sa-same amount of time auh— shiiit."

and despite not understanding whatever shit yuuji was spewing from his parched mouth, you nodded in agreement.

"alright," the man kissed your jaw in a wicked hurry, "you don't—" a sudden, deep shove within your velvety hole made the jock stutter out, "y-you love me right... you don't love him."

and he let go of your aching jaw, kissing up the cheeks as if to soothe your skin, "say you love me. say it."

"i—" your eyes rolled back as his persistent shoves hit right in the bullseye — marking your womb with his copious pre. despite your scratchy throat, and bruising thighs, you moaned out, "i- only love you, yu-uji. ohmygod—"

"—good." yuuji groaned, feeling his length twitch in anticipation as the muscles of his thighs tightened, "cause i'll kill him— I'll kill him if he tries to take you from me."

and with that warning, the jock released thick ropes of cum into your saccharine pussy. the liquid filled you to the brim, a drop or two beading out of your cunt and sliding down his length helplessly.

"sh—shit." yuuji collapsed on top of you, breathing in your scent and licking at your sweat-soaked skin like a man crazed, "i—i'll kill him if he... if he takes you away."

"o-okay."

"'m serious."

"hm." you raked your trembling hands over his sweaty locks, "'sokay, i'm yours."

"good."

creaak!

"oh mY GOD—" your roommate practically yelled, "WHY ARE YOU BUTT-NAKED IN MY LIVING ROOM, ITADORI?!"

managing some resemblance of coherence, yuuji snapped his head back to look at the green-haired athlete standing shell-shocked at the door, "S-SENPAI?!"

"PUT SOME CLOTHES ON!" and with that the zenin family member pulled the door shut.

"i—" yuuji snapped his head back at you — you, who had just been sobered up from maki's yelling, "we should probably... p-put some clothes on."

the jock nodded, "probably."

well, you could always continue the conversation in your own room. after all, yuuji itadori did have inhumane stamina.

a/n: i did not suffer through days of creative block just to give up on this bitch. here, have something i guess..? idek if this was any good omg but i hope it doesn't suck too much :// this idea was suggested by @peekawoocc literally ages back, so, due credits to her! tagging: @peekawoocc @9rvm @iminlovewqr0w @jellibean2018 @kingofthe-egirls [took me so long ahaha :/] m.list

glad to see the yee never dies

Dan, jumping into the ocean: Hey Phil I’m literally swimming in your eyes

so cute

prohero!katsuki x reader — suggestive, mdni

Walking home alone at this hour is dangerous. Reckless, stupid. You'll get swallowed up by all kinds of creeps, your boyfriend told you once.

That’s why you need a hero to take care of you when this happens.

Pro Hero Dynamight — first in the official Chart, the bastard that makes all the villains shriek and the girls scream — makes this clear as he presses up against your back, thigh peeking between your legs, mouth to the shell of your ear — all for security, of course. He slides a heated hand from your hip to the curve of your thigh, his gloves rough on skin if it weren’t for the barrier of your jeans.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doin’ out here all alone?” Dynamight rasps to your neck.

You gasp at the heat of his body towering over you, feeling a little weak in the knees. A big, strong Pro Hero cornering you like this… It’s a little scandalous. Your heart pounds for all the wrong reasons. “My— My boyfriend's working overtime. He’s a Pro, too, you see. A little too busy for me sometimes, Dynamight, sir.”

His big hand spans across your thigh, a steady weight that twitches at your formal address. It explores boldly. “A Pro, huh,” he echoes, gripping your chin to press his mouth against your jaw. “Looks like he ain’t doin’ his job to me.”

You shudder, and he follows it with a finger trailing up your spine near possessively, a dragon to his newly-found treasure. You tilt your head to meet the pierce of his red eyes, too helpless to not draw closer to the mouth that’s putting you in a trance with each filthy word. A handsome man like him, so eager to touch you... Who is to blame you, really? Your boyfriend’s left you a little needy.

“Ah, but — it’s okay.” You squirm and look up at him through your lashes. Coy and easy. “I’m used to taking care of myself. He’s busy enough.”

“He’s a jackass,” Dynamight says fiercely, half-distracted by your mouth.

You nearly break character, a little laugh slipping out. And with the way he grins, he knows what he’s doing wrong.

“Ahem. Dynamight, sir,” you return seamlessly, with the grace of a professional. Your back arches willingly as he drags you impossibly close, hip to hip. “We can’t… not like this. Someone might see.”

“Who gives a shit,” he says, then grips one whole thigh and squeezes appreciatively. “You’re already ruttin’ against me like a horndog, anyway.”

“Like a—” Incensed, you slap his chest, then hit it a few times more out of frustration. “Katsuki, gross! Stop ruining the scene, dammit.”

“What?” Katsuki’s frowns rather theatrically. The picture of innocence that doesn’t quite fit with his growing smug grin. “I didn’t ruin anything. Look, I’m still har—”

“Okay.” You exhale sharply, pushing away from him. Katsuki laughs, trying to pull you back to him, cooing. “You know what? Just skip the foreplay and take me home.”

1 comfy boye @danielhowell 🌸

plz don’t repost thnx 

toge inumaki // fic recommendations

note: remember to read the tags! + i do not own any of these works

salmon!

dog-gone it.

intimacy is subjective

the sky, the sun, getting beat up by inumaki

bitter eclipse

puppy love

tongue-tied

be not afraid of my body

sweet dreams and other cursed demands

i leave you

come

our hands

the sun will rise again

1999

transatlanticism

my home is where your heart is

i know when you're around ('cause i know the sound of your heart)

let's talk.

nightmares

paper wings

pull me close

this love

secret admirer

favorite

muse

a coffeeshop phone call

crush

fillings for you

cybergirl

hamzahthefantastic x reader (fic)

2.0

summary: you’re a cam girl and you have more power over hamzah’s horny ass than you can even comprehend.

contains: smut with plot ofc

w/c: 2.7k-ish

a/n: yall convinced me. can i even call this a oneshot anymore? anyway enjoy <3

~

The clock was ticking. Hamzah's eyes couldn't stay in one place. He knew he was obsessed with you—he couldn't even jerk off to random porn anymore, only you could keep him hard—but the extent of his infatuation was starting to take a toll on his daily life. Recording gaming videos and podcasts with Martin felt like such a chore when all he could think about was your plush thighs wrapped around his head or your face pressed into his pillows, ass up. 

It was like a parasite had taken over and he was merely a host body for something sinister that was controlling his every move. He wasn't even sure if he hated it. It was one of the only things bringing him unadulterated joy as of recent. His wallet certainly hated him for it, though.

His laptop was already on and set in place. You were about to start your weekly scheduled live broadcast and he was sat in bed, waiting obediently for your arrival. The thought of creepy, old retirees with beer guts and wives also waiting for you made his skin crawl. His brain conjured up torturous scenes of you on call with them, talking to them the same way you spoke to him. Charming them with your promising words and perfect tits. No, he was sure he was special. Right?

He slapped his cheeks lightly, trying to rid the thoughts from poisoning his mind. It didn't matter. He knew what he was getting into the moment he paid for that first private meeting. He just had to suck it up and have you in any way he could.

Your panties were laid out next to him, almost tricking him into believing you were there in the room with him at one point or another. When he came home from the studio a week ago and saw a package with cursive writing and glittery gift wrap sitting at his doorstep, he was tempted to banish Martin from the building as soon as he'd welcomed him. When Martin then asked him what was in the box as he was taking it up to his room, he froze. His lies about it being an eBay order were almost as easy to see as the half-chub rising beneath his sweatpants. Luckily, Mandy called her boyfriend within the hour and he left soon thereafter without bothering to question his best friend's strange behavior.

It was pathetic, the way he locked the door to his room and shut his blinds just to open a parcel. He felt like he was living with his family again, trying to minimize any possible chances that they'd walk in on him with his dick in his hand. But he was completely alone then, and as he carefully tore the wrapping to preserve your penmanship of his name on the shipping label, his heart was beating out of his chest. Swathed in pink tissue paper lay his only worldly evidence that you were real, not just a couple of pixels on his screen.

Your lilac, lacy, worn panties.

For the next few days, Hamzah didn't leave home. He sniffed, he rubbed, he moaned and groaned. And he was loud. Any sense of shame left him as soon as he came the first time. He was sure he'd pass out from the pleasure at some point, but it was like each climax recharged him with the power to go twice as hard. It took a while for him to get himself together. It took no time at all for him to tune in to your show.

So, here he was, anxiously staring at the chat room full of digital degenerates and convincing himself he wasn't cut from the same cloth. He was different. He respected you. He liked you for more than just your perfect tits, peachy ass, lustrous hair, smooth skin, wet pu—

Then, the camera turned on. The chat started going at a hundred miles per hour. The donations began to flow in. And all you had done was smile.

"Hi, everybody," you giggled, eyes scanning the screen as you waved. "Oh, wow! Thank you for all the donations! So eager for me."

Hamzah's heart twinged. He didn't want to be reminded that he wasn't the only one. He made a donation of his own as you began reading them out.

"Thank you for the hundred dollars, SuperSpreader77!" you gasped as the notification sounded. You placed your hand on your chest, drawing Hamzah's eyes to the blood-red, satin brassiere that adorned it. "I'll be sure to make it up to you."

You winked and bit your lip. Hamzah swore he could've melted right there. The damp spot on the front of his boxers stuck out sorely, his cock aching for a release that would certainly make him see stars.

"I missed you all so much." You pouted.

And just like that, his elation was cut short by your acknowledgment of the others.

The live lasted near an hour as you touched yourself and stared into the camera and teased and did all the right things to get Hamzah wrapped even tighter around your finger. Knowing he was there after his donation made you slightly more daring than usual. You spanked yourself with a frilly paddle until your ass was stinging and bruised—a little taste of what was to come. You weren't lying about making it up to him later.

By the end, Hamzah was sure his balls were really going to turn blue. He did touch himself—how could he not?—but he knew nothing would be better than to finish with you, one on one. So he edged closer and closer to the point of no return, denying himself of his orgasm as he rutted into his fist, wishing it was your mouth or your cunt. He watched with impressive self control as you came all over your own fingers, splayed across your mattress like a priceless painting that could only be rightfully witnessed in a museum.

You ended the live by blowing a kiss and Hamzah rushed to open the Zoom app. This time, you joined within a few minutes, still topless but with your thong back on. Hamzah wasn't sure if he was sad to see you covered up or more excited that he'd get to see it get pulled off again.

"Hi, angel," you greeted. Your eyes twinkled, face flushed and lips bitten red from your previous escapade. "I missed you the most."

Hamzah groaned like the words physically wounded him.

"You're driving me insane," he said.

His hand traveled down to his navel, but before he could grab himself, you spoke.

"Ah, ah," you tutted, stopping him in his tracks. "Did you get my little gift?"

"Yes." He nodded keenly, grasping the lace from beside him and running it down his torso until he draped it over his throbbing cock.

"Do I even want to know what you've done with it?" you asked, tilting your head to the side.

"The things I wish I could do to you," Hamzah answered honestly.

He pinched the lace between his fingers and ghosted the cloth across himself, sharply inhaling at the sensation. You bit your lip and Hamzah felt himself twitch. With the way you had soaked through your thong, you wondered if he'd want this pair, too.

"Did you enjoy my show?" you asked despite knowing the answer. "Enjoy yourself?"

"I waited for you," Hamzah said. "I wanted you. Alone."

"Are you hurting? Aching for me?"

"I want you so bad. You have no idea."

"I don't?"

Hamzah shook his head.

"Show me. Show me how you used those panties."

He immediately obliged. He began by gripping his shaft, spreading the precum from his tip downward. He moved your panties to encircle his cock, dragging against his balls deliciously as he pumped himself. His head fell back, already so close that he could feel his heartbeat drumming in his ears. You watched him hungrily.

"Gonna cum already?" You licked your lips, leaving them glossy. "Let me hear you, angel."

A loud moan tumbled from his lips, a sense of abandon washing through him as he pleasured himself in front of you. You observed the way the vein in his neck popped similarly to the ones on his cock and imagined how they'd taste, how they'd feel against your tongue. You began touching yourself, swirling your fingers around your swollen clit.

"I-I can't hold—c-can I?" he stuttered out, chest rising and falling rapidly.

"Do it, Hamzah. Ruin my panties."

You lay flat on your back, neck craned to watch the screen as his movements grew fervent. You tried to match his pace, tried to fuck your fingers into your pussy as he bucked his hips, tried to picture it was him inside of you. He spilled into his hand, shouting your name over and over until his voice grew scratchy and he had released every last drop all over himself and the fabric. He hadn't even opened his eyes before he was hard again. You were the only Viagra he'd ever need.

"Wanna see you," he panted, attempting in vain to catch his breath.

He ran his thumb over his tip and shivered. You leapt from bed to pull your thong off and tossed it towards the camera playfully. When you bent over your desk, his eyes widened. The marks on your ass were red and angry, slightly raised in the shape of the paddle. He didn't know he had it in him, but he genuinely growled.

"Fuck me..." He gripped himself tighter, his eyes nearly rolling back into his head from how sensitive he was.

You reached into one of the drawers and slowly pulled a toy out from the back. Hamzah was pleased to see the dildo was of similar size to him. You knew it would never compare to the real thing, but it'd have to do. You spat onto it, slapping it against your sore ass a couple times and jumping at the sting. Hamzah fell into a trance, unable to do anything but moan as he watched you run the head against your dripping folds before pressing in.

You gasped, keeling over the desk as your wetness enveloped the entirety of the silicone. The feeling of every inch stretching you had you clamping around it as your body adjusted to the intrusion. You drew it out until just the tip was still inside. Then, all at once, you drove it back in with a cry.

"Hamzah!" you whimpered, head lolling to the side. "I-I'm—"

"You're doing so good, baby." He wrapped your panties around the base of his cock, intensifying his satisfaction as the fabric cinched around him. "Fuck yourself. Hard."

His hoarse voice combined with the pleasure passing through you made your legs shake. You could barely even hold yourself up. Your chest pressed against the cold wood and your nipples grazed the surface, rendering you speechless. Hamzah watched as you flicked your wrist as fast as you could and the dildo disappeared into you. You were in the clouds, gripping the edge of the desk with your other hand until your knuckles turned white.

"Shit, s-so fuckin’ pretty," Hamzah groaned.

You couldn't even see straight anymore, but you knew him well enough to know he was closing in on his second orgasm of the night. The carnal sounds of the both of you reverberated through your rooms, a mess of moans and wet slapping. When you screwed your eyes shut tight enough, it was almost as if you were there together.

"Cum f'me, baby," Hamzah grunted out, "only me."

"Only you, angel," you whined, your mouth staying ajar as you felt your stomach clenching and your toes curling.

Broken moans toppled from your lips. Any words said were inaudible, a jumble of sweet nothings as the two of you came in unison. Your wrist was cramping and you could feel your arousal making a mess all over your legs, but you couldn't bare to stop your movements. Pure bliss coursed through your veins and Hamzah strained to watch the way your orgasm turned your body into a shaking heap atop your desk. He came so hard his vision blacked out for a moment and he huffed heavy breaths until his body was no longer tensed from head to toe.

You eventually released the dildo from your grasp and let it fall to the floor, tracing your fingers over your wetness then to your clit. Even a faint touch sent a shock through you. You giggled but it came out as a shaky sigh.

"God, baby," Hamzah murmured, unraveling your panties from his dick and sitting up to pull his laptop closer. "You okay?"

"Hmm," you hummed in your state of euphoria. You attempted to stand straight but to no avail, gripping the sides of the desk as you nearly toppled over with another giggle. "'M fine."

"Fuck," Hamzah laughed quietly, feeling the effects of his own exhaustion. "That good?"

"Mhm," you moaned, nodding.

When you turned, you wobbled on your feet for a couple steps before falling to your knees in front of the bed. You brought your laptop to the edge and smiled, wiping a tear from your eye.

"So good."

Hamzah grinned, leaning against the wall as his breathing slowly returned to a normal pace. He was sticky and slightly sore, but he couldn't even begin to imagine what you were feeling in that moment.

"How do you do this for work?" he said, bemused. "I'm destroyed."

He reached up to run his fingers through his curls, but decided against it once he felt the moisture coated between them.

"I was thinking of you during the live."

You crossed your arms on the bed, resting your cheek on your forearm as you stared at his figure through the screen. He opened his mouth and closed it a couple times, failing to find his words. You giggled again, completely spent.

"Why are you so far?"

He knew there was no real answer to his question, but he couldn't help but wonder out loud. How was it that the girl of his dreams was so out of his reach? Did he do something in a past life to deserve this fate? The longer he thought about it, the worse he felt.

"Maybe it's for the best," you offered, eyes closed. "Maybe you'd get sick of me IRL."

He contemplated the sentiment for a moment. No, there's no way. He could never get sick of your sweet voice; surely it'd be impossible.

"First of all, 'IRL'? Really?" he teased. "And who knows. Maybe I could fly you out."

"Don't be silly," you yawned, sitting back on your haunches to stretch.

"Fine," he said, rolling his eyes. "I already paid for your panties. What makes you think I wouldn't pay for the ticket to get the rest of you here?"

"Ridiculous."

You just couldn't make sense of it. A boy flying you out while knowing close to nothing about you. Sure, you made each other feel good, but there's a big difference between seeing someone for an hour or two weekly and seeing them everyday with no where else to go. Such an absolute scared you. Besides, a girl like you would never dare to have such big dreams of a fairytale ending.

"My offer still stands." Hamzah crossed his arms.

"What is it with you and your offers?"

"Never hurt before."

He grabbed the panties from beside him and held it up to the camera like it was evidence of his claim. The two of you laughed at the white stains that now adorned it.

"You're disgusting."

"You love it."

You shook your head, not even refuting his words. You couldn't ignore the jolt that surged through your heart.

"Really, you should consider it," he said with a shrug.

"No promises," you said. "Goodnight, angel."

You subsequently signed off, leaving Hamzah with a longing in his chest that kept him up that night and invaded his dreams when he managed to drift off in the early hours of the morning.

~

a/n: if u ask for part 3 i may just scream. idk i kinda like having them yearn for each other. thoughts? feelings? concerns? hate? leave it in the replies!