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a-kaash-me-outside · 2 months

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˚₊‧ ᴡɪʟʟ ɪᴛ ʙᴇ ᴄᴀsᴜᴀʟ ɴᴏᴡ? ‧₊˚

♡ ft. geto, toji, gojo, higuruma, nanami ♡ total wc: 10.9k // nsfw minors dni! // ♡ contents: ౨ৎ 𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑢𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 ౨ৎ, afab reader she/her pronouns, no smut in gojos or tojis im sorry, emotionally stunted men kinda but they grow isnt that nice (not talking abt higuruma and nanami god no), the aftermath of fwb caught feelings, consolation, emotional aftercare ig, lotta domestic fluff for higuruma and nanami's!!!! (everyone say ty @noosayog for nanami's bc she is the only reason i wrote his) ♡ listen along: casual by chappell roan ♡

- ᡣ𐭩 time passes and people change, and just because you fell first doesn't mean you don't get a happy ending + bonus continuation of higuruma's and nanami's ᡣ𐭩 -

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ɢᴇᴛᴏ [ 3 ʏᴇᴀʀs ]

on the list of people that you thought you’d see tonight, geto isn’t even in the top 100, not because of probability or likelihood, but solely based on the fact that you have not thought about this man in years. if you were asked the question from your future self, “holy shit, guess who we saw tonight?” you would’ve listed old friends, distant relatives, exes, minor celebrities, other flings, teachers from high school, people from stories you’ve only heard of, and then geto.

after that night, you really didn’t see barely any of him. a few posts on your feed: one 2 weeks after and another 2 months after that one when you remembered that you forgot to unfollow him. once on campus: him across a million tables getting lunch with some girl too long after your little thing for you to care about who she was to him at all. once at a mutual (though you didn’t know was mutual at the time) friend’s party close to graduation: you ran into him grabbing a drink from the cooler and neither of you said a single word to each other, just exchanged a very knowing glance.

fast forward a handful of years, with geto not on your mind during a single one of them, and you’re stunned, nearly speechless, as you recognize him across the bar. the track of which your mind is racing takes you stop after stop to thoughts and feelings you didn’t really ask to experience. they follow a curving roadmap in your mind of: why is he here? ↝ wow, he looks great ↝ does he live nearby still? ↝ that’s weird ↝ no, it isn’t weird, i still live here ↝ then what are the fucking chances that he’s here ↝ no, seriously he looks so good

he looks different though, you realize about 3 minutes into sneaking glances in his direction, in some way that you just can’t put your finger on right now. in your slightly tipsy state, you barely stop to ask yourself how you even clocked that it was him so quickly, how there was no hesitance in the recognition or questioning in the placing. he looks really fucking good.

in fact, now that all of the obligatory thoughts have come to a heed, that’s really the only thing that you can think about. how good he looks.

the events that happened that ended your situationship all of those years ago are nothing but outlines now; whatever you said or he said just sounds like underwater conversations. you can see the way that you left and you remember being dumbfounded, but everything else has lost its sting, like a story you’d recall to a friend of a friend in a setting much like the one you’re in. time has handled the memory the way that time does and as a result, when the two of you finally make eye contact after what feels like an hour of missed mutual glances, you offer a small wave. a wave that says, “i remember only knowing you in past tense. we are such different people now, i wonder what it would’ve been like if we met now instead.”

the wave was the first step, technically, sure, but he makes the literal first step. he departs from the conversation he’s been enthralled with for as long as you’ve been stealing glances and he weaves between people in the middle of their own stories before ending up in front of you.

when he does, he asks, as if he’s just randomly bumped into you rather than intentionally coming over, “shit… is that you?” he puts his hand on the back of your chair, thumb brushing your shoulder.

the friend that you’re with cocks their head, furrows their eyebrows, has no idea who this is or their connection to you, the timelines of their interactions with you spaced too far apart for one to know the other. geto notices this look, addresses it. “we used to…,” he pauses, “see each other? for a little bit.”

you can’t help the laugh that bubbles up from your chest at the way he describes it. “yes, yes we did,” you nod. “back in college,” you explain a little further, “been a while.”

the interaction quiets, the two of you exchanging soft smiles instead of words, and your friend knows where this thing is going before either of you even do, so they bow their head, offer their seat to geto, and take their leave in the name of some bullshit excuse. he takes it without a second thought, asking you how you’ve been, laughing about the time that you saw each other at that party, and after an hour of just talking he says, “yeah, i actually thought about you the other day.”

you nearly choke on the drink he’s bought you. you rush to put it down. “you did?” you ask.

he nods. “i don’t even remember what prompted it. i think, maybe, i saw a photo of myself from college and how different i looked and how different i feel now and then just, out of nowhere, remembered how shitty i was to you.”

you don’t say anything in return, running your finger around the lip of your glass as you stare at him. you don’t know how to say that you don’t care anymore, that you haven’t thought of those days in years, that the surprise that you displayed a few seconds ago was completely genuine, because you were so convinced that neither of you had. it comes out something like a shrug and, “we were practically kids.”

he answers so quickly, “well, kids or not, i’m sorry.”

you laugh, gently so he won’t think you’re laughing at his apology. really, you’re laughing at the notion of apologizing for an act that no longer warrants forgiveness. you laugh at the thought of giving it anyways. you place your hand on top of his on the edge of the bar. “thank you,” you nod. he nods back.

when you let him take you back to his place for old times sake, you’re half-expecting the same person from the ghosts of memories from years ago, like all of the things he said at the bar were just a last ditch effort to usher the night in the exact direction that it’s heading in.

but he’s different now, just like he said he was before he apologized, and you can feel it in his movements and his actions. more confident, more intentional. he kisses you first and it doesn’t taste selfish. it doesn’t feel rushed to get to the main event. he savors it, holds your head in his hands, and doesn’t touch a single other inch of your body until he’s found the right combination of fingertip pressure and tongue that has you melting into his palm.

your mind flickers to the notion that these actions might be pre planned because they feel so meticulous and thought out, but that impression quickly dissolves when he sinks inside of you, slowly, keeping his eyes locked on yours as he does, his hand reaching down to cup your cheek, fingers nearly trembling against your jaw when he presses his hips completely against the insides of your thighs.

“shit,” he hisses, hands moving down to your waist, fingers light like feathers practically crawling against your skin, as if each print was so grateful it got to make contact with the softness below. when he grips into the fat of your hips, he’s careful, intentional or not, pressing his thumbs into the bone, but not letting his nails leave a single mark. it’s pressured, but comfortable.

he holds you in place, slowly pulling his hips back and he can’t help but look down between your legs, watching himself disappear inside of you, a creamy mess at the base, shallow breaths recycled in his chest.

“hey,” you say, eyes locked on the tenseness of his jaw and the way that he stops himself with sharp inhales. he finds your gaze in a second. “don’t hold out on me here.” you rest your arm on his bicep, fingers curling around wherever they can reach.

you can feel it under your palm, his muscle tensing as his pace picks up, rhythm consistent, but unrelenting. the breaths come out of you quickly and you’re unable to hold any sort of facade. “ah- shit, f-fuck,” you cry, “holy shit.” you squeeze your eyes shut, swallowing harshly as strangled noises leave you without vetting a single one.

“n-no,” you shake your head, regretting it instantly as he slows down in response. you shake your head harder, “no, don’t stop, but- ah,” you groan, “your- you were- i meant,” you exhale a laugh, “let me hear you.”

his eyes widen slightly as he processes what you want from him, and then he listens. he leans down to kiss your lips and then your cheek and then your jaw and then your ear. yes, he’s fucking you better than you’ve ever been fucked in your entire life, but that’s not what makes you crumble. no, it’s his grunts and pants and breathy groans pressed right up against your skin.

you thread your fingers into his hair, twirling the ends of the locks between the tips, raking your nails down the base of his neck to the front, and then smoothing them down his chest. “more,” you mumble against him, and you’re not sure exactly what you mean, but he gives it to you, whatever it is. you’re certain he’d give you anything in the world right now if you just asked for it.

there’s a moment after when you’re lying there with him, shoulder pressed up against his, chest heaving, barely recovered, that you find yourself back in that college dorm. you don’t know why the tightness is rising in the hollow below your sternum, but it is. you remind yourself that you weren’t expecting anything from this anyway, so it doesn’t matter, but it does. you’re not sure if you just don’t want to be treated like that again or if it has something to do with geto being the one lying beside you.

when you turn your head to face him, he’s already looking at you. he doesn’t shy away in embarrassment, like it’s wrong that he’d be gazing at you after all of that. his features are steady, confident, strong. he smiles softly, brings his hand up to cup your cheek. “should we get breakfast in the morning?”

in the morning, you repeat in your head. you wait a beat, trying to come up with something to say, to proceed with caution or to discern his intentions or to at least not sound desperate, but all that comes out is, “in the morning?”

he nods, turning on his side so he can stare at you without his neck getting sore. he inches closer to you, kissing the top of your shoulder and then your temple. he drapes his arm over your stomach. “if that’s okay with you,” he says and then kisses you again.

“okay,” you nod back, lazy smile on your lips, eyelids heavy at the warmth surrounding you now as he pulls you closer to him. “yeah, sure,” you affirm, voice so soft and airy that the tightness in your chest is lifted away with the words, all that’s left is a hope you feel comfortable letting stick around.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ᴛᴏᴊɪ [ 3 ᴍᴏɴᴛʜs ]

you are not expecting anyone. you have resigned yourself to a nice pair of pajamas and comfy socks and a warm cup of tea and a spot in the living room that you will only leave for a refill and bathroom breaks. you are tucked into the corner of your couch, back pressed up against the sturdy arm, legs crossed, and a throw blanket over your lap.

you are not expecting anyone, so the sound at the door should have felt a lot more jarring. well, it is jarring for a second, a few seconds actually, the echoing disruption bouncing off of the walls of your living room and back to you, but then the noises repeat themselves, like they’re on a looping track, and you realize that-

you know that knock. heavy-handed with a tight fist, back of the knuckles, not the tops. almost pittering out by the end of the three successions, like the first one is direct and assured, but the second and third don’t really bother keeping up. that knock almost makes you run to the door. if it were 3 months ago, you’d be skipping to the door.

but you hesitate for a few reasons. firstly because when the connection hits that you know that knock very well, you remind yourself to proceed with caution. secondly because it sounds the same but with a difference as small as a hairline fracture. you heard that knock far too many times during the span of a year and a half, and this one sounds almost completely identical, but there’s a half second pause between the first knock and the second knock and the raps feel less impatient.

you don’t have to look through the peephole to know who’s standing on the other side of the door, but you’re glad you do anyway. if for nothing else, it gives you a slight edge, you’re convinced, like you’ve seen him first, you have the upperhand now. at least, that’s what you tell yourself.

toji hadn’t contacted you since he left that day. no texts. no calls. no showing up at your apartment at 3 am. nothing. you kept telling yourself that you’d hear from him. when that didn’t happen, you started telling yourself that you didn’t care if you heard from him. you’ve actually been waiting for this moment, replaying what it would look like if he came back, the things you’d say to him and how you’d say them.

now, looking out at him just standing there, you’re frozen. every scenario you’ve replayed in your head, all of the emotional venting and blow out screaming that you’ve rehearsed and you can’t recall a single scene. you think about leaving him out there, about telling him to go away through the door or just pretending like you’re not home.

“i can see the shadow of your feet under the door,” toji calls out, muffled by the barrier between you guys, and yet it still rings out through your entire body.

you slowly open the door. though, even if it took an entire hour to open the door, you’re not sure it would’ve mattered. you don’t think time is something that could’ve prepared you for seeing him. seeing him didn’t even prepare you for seeing him. you don’t know what to say, so you don’t say anything, folding your arms over your chest. you just wait.

“i-,” he starts, but then immediately stops, half sighs/half scoffs as he leans his chest forward, eyes scanning the inside of your apartment, for what exactly you’re not sure.

“what, toji?” you ask, voice stronger- and more annoyed- than you anticipate it being. you’re grateful for that. “why are you here?”

“shit, this is already hard enough for me t-,” he says, shaking his head, corner of his mouth tugging upward in frustration.

you narrow your eyes, cutting him off, “sorry, this is hard for you?” you feel like laughing or strangling him more than you do crying, which is a desired outcome in this situation, you suppose. “you know that you haven’t talked to me in three months, right? you haven’t talked to me?” you ask, and you can feel your pulse in your wrist and your chest now, because the lines are coming back to you slowly, one by one, circling your brain, fueling your confidence.

“yeah, no, of course i know that,” he combats, like you’re the one that’s being an asshole right now.

you smooth your fingertips against your eyes, blocking the sight of him out for just a second before gesturing with your hand as you ask, “are you going to answer my question or…?”

“look, i said that this is hard enough as it is for me to just be here,” he snaps, and if you were a little less annoyed, if he hadn’t come at this whole thing exactly how he was, you might’ve clocked the desperation in his voice or the uncertainty in his pupils.

“do you know how fucking stupid you sound right now?” you ask. it’s a rhetorical question.

one week after he left, you were certain he was going to come back. you and toji had gone a week without seeing each other or even speaking. you had even gone two weeks. sure, the conversation felt much more serious and, sure, really deep down you knew this time was different, but still, you held out dumb hope.

one month after he left and you realized this was not just him being weird and distant. this was something brand new that you had never had to deal with before. you were still trying to figure out how to navigate it when the two month realization hit: that maybe he wasn’t coming back at all, ever, maybe you had done something wrong. if he had shown back up on your doorstep during that time this conversation would’ve gone very differently you think.

but he didn’t. he showed up at month three when your reaction to random memories of toji were no longer tears and guilt, but laughter and bitterness. there weren’t many things that toji could say right now that would warrant anything more than you standing in your doorway for 4 minutes or less.

“i-,” he starts, but then sighs. he looks left, down the hallway of your building, eyes shifting from object to object out of your view.

“please don’t waste anymore of my time,” you reply and it’s softer than you intend. you thought it’d come out angrier. that seems like a theme for you tonight: everything sounding different in your head. when he doesn’t reply, you start a countdown, promising yourself that when you make it to 15, you’ll close the door in his face. you only make it to 13.

“i’m not here to waste your time,” he says, with no air of disgust or annoyance, the first halfway decent thing he’s said to you tonight. “i-,” he huffs again, “i’m here to say sorry. and-,” he hesitates.

you wait, just listening. the longer that he hesitates, the more time you have to think about what he might say and how you’re standing with your door open for the entire floor to hear your conversation. you’re not sure what’s worse, having this conversation in the confines of familiar grounds or the openness of neutrality.

“and ask… are you already seeing someone else?” he finishes.

you’re dumbfounded, blinking at him slowly before responding in the only way you can think of right now, “goodnight, toji.” you shake your head, cursing yourself for expecting anything more.

“no,” he rushes to say and then stumbles over the rest, “i- i tried to see somebody else, quite a bit of other people actually…”

you scoff, squinting at him, saying more sternly this time, with an added attestation of closing the door in his face, “goodnight, toji.”

he reaches out with a quick reflex, grabbing the door before you’ve barely even moved it. “wait, no, i- fuck,” he mutters, scrambling, “can i just come in?”

“so that was your plan then?” you drop your hand from the door. “to come back here unannounced, be shitty to me, ask if i’m sleeping with anyone, tell me that you’ve slept with lots of people, and then ask if you can come inside?” you ask.

“i didn’t have a plan-,” he replies.

“clearly,” you interject.

“but i’m trying,” he finishes, and you’re waiting for there to be more, to explain exactly how this constitutes as trying, because you don’t really see that here.

“fucking christ, toji, you’re going to have to try harder than whatever the fuck this is,” you sneer.

“we- we had a good thing,” he tries again. you don’t understand how every time he opens his mouth it gets worse and worse. why are you even entertaining this anymore?

“fuck you, man,” you scoff, and it feels like all of the anger has left your body, and in the void where it once was present is nothing but disinterest.

“no, not like that,” he backpedals. maybe if he would say more than four words at a time, or four better words at a time, then you wouldn’t have to keep filling in the blanks or being pissed off or- “for the last six months of our relationship, i didn’t sleep with anyone else,” he admits like it’s the answer to all of your problems. the word relationship burns at the forefront of your mind so hard that you don’t realize what he’s said for 10 whole seconds.

“i, so what?” your voice is unconvincing even to your own ears. you had slept with other people even 2 months before that last day. that wasn’t the issue. you guys were allowed to sleep with other people. you had an explicit conversation about the fact that you could sleep with other people, something along the lines of, hey, we can see other people right? yeah, we’re not fucking dating. okay, just checking.

the so what, you had already answered for yourself, inner voice replying to your own question, screaming, you guys were exclusive, unknowingly to each other, for 2 whole months before you confessed and he left.

his answer is much different. he says, “so nothing really. i just- i needed you to know that.”

“well, what the fuck do you want me to do with that?” you ask, and it comes out bitter and discouraged, but what you really mean is, please tell me what you want, please, can you just tell me that you missed me.

“whatever you want,” he answers instead.

you take a deep breath, a million emotions coursing through your veins and up your throat. “you know what?” you say, and it doesn’t sound angry, it sounds playful, “no, seriously,” you smile and then you laugh, “fuck you, toji.” you close your mouth like you’re done talking, like that’s all you needed to say, but your heart disagrees, forces more words out into the air no matter how hard your jaw is clenched shut.

“you show up here and you’re an asshole and then you’re decent and then you say shit like that and then- then i ask you what you fucking want from this, what you’re trying to play at here and you tell me whatever i want?” you say, exasperated.

“what i wanted was for you not to leave me three fucking months ago. that’s what i wanted,” you spit, “i wanted you to tell me this shit three fucking months ago before i sat alone, by myself, sad and then angry, and the entire time, fucking missing you, you fucking asshole. that’s what i wanted.”

and then it’s there, out in the open, airing for the two of you to witness and to face, and no matter what happens, you know you’ve done everything and said everything that you’ve needed to. he’s quiet for a few moments and you let him be, not tapping your foot or rolling your eyes or being pissed off, but just letting it play out. if this is the last time you ever see toji, why not just let it play out?

“okay,” he says, and it’s soft in a way you’ve only ever heard from him one time in your entire relationship. “i’m sorry.” he pauses. “i really don’t know how to do this,” he admits and you believe him. it feels different from when he told you something along those lines earlier, but you have a feeling that this is what he was trying to say all along.

“do what?” you push, because your mind is making assumptions, but if he’s going to prove anything to you, he needs to start now.

“ask for forgiveness?” he says, like he’s thinking out loud, “apologize? date someone?” you don’t say anything. you’re looking for something more concrete than that. it takes a handful of uncomfortable seconds before he says, “actually care about someone.”

“and do you?” you ask.

his lips press into a thin line, his eyes shift from left to right again. you can feel him getting antsy with the conversation and he’s barely said one vulnerable thing. you look at him, eyes soft and pleading, silently begging him that if he’s grown from this, you’ll let him back in, you swear, but you’ve been hurt before and you know what you’re worth, so you’re going to need some sort of evidence as collateral. “yeah,” he mumbles, but it’s audible. “you,” he says like it isn’t obvious, and it’s quiet and daunted, but you really appreciate the effort.

“okay,” you say, and that’s all you say.

“okay?” he questions, confused. “that’s it?”

“yup,” you say, but your small smile and the fact that you’re not slamming the door in his face again gives away a bit more than that.

“can i… come in?” he asks, hesitant, like he’s still being tested.

you shake your head, hand gripped onto the edge of the door. “no,” you say, scrunching up your nose and furrowing your eyebrows. “because if you come in here, we’re going to have sex,” you admit, half because it’s the truth and half just to see the look on his face. (it’s worth it.)

“wait,” he says, placing his palm flat against your door, but not moving it. his hand is now inside of your apartment, the only part of his body that’s made it past this invisible barrier of hallway and your place. “that sounds like a great thing. why am i not allowed in?”

“because this is me having self-control,” you explain, placing a hand on his shoulder and pushing the small portion of him that’s crossed the division back into the hallway. when you feel his skin against your pinky, soft fabric of that familiar shirt underneath your palm, you almost make a fool of yourself right after you say the word self-control, but you remind yourself what’s at stake here, what you really want.

“i came all the way out here to see you-,” he starts, but he doesn’t make a move to replace his hand on your door, letting his arm fall back to his side. it’s for the better, too, because you’re not sure how much more self-control you have already, no matter how much you tell yourself about longevity and whatever.

“if you really care,” you interrupt him, using his few vulnerable words against him, “and you weren't just trying to sleep with me tonight,” you pause, letting those words sink in, “you will go home and you will call me tomorrow morning and we will get breakfast- the least sexy meal of them all- and then maybe coffee if i enjoy hanging out with you outside of just having sex with you, and then we will go from there.”

“i-,” he starts to protest, but you cock your head. the truth is, if he said another word, reached out and touched your cheek or your hip or really anywhere on your body, if he kissed you, or just walked inside of your apartment and sat down on your couch, you wouldn’t have stopped him. you might even have gotten breakfast with him anyways. he doesn’t know that, you don’t think, but even if he does, he doesn’t act on it. he bows his head slightly, conceding, and says, “okay. i will just… talk to you… tomorrow… then.”

you nod. “goodnight, toji,” you say, hand on the door, closing it as slowly as you opened it.

“uh, yea, night,” he says back. you won’t tell anyone, and neither will he, about the stupidest small smile you see on his lips as he leaves your apartment that night or the fact that he wakes up extra early the next morning, muttering under his breath about how ridiculous dating is before he calls you at 9:30 on the dot.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ɢᴏᴊᴏ [ 3 ᴡᴇᴇᴋs ]

being away from ɢᴏᴊᴏ feels like detoxing. not from like hard drugs or alcohol, but… coffee.

like you know it’s not necessarily good for you, drinking it every day, but it’s a habit you’ve had for a while now and you just can’t seem to break it. it’s not really hurting anything in your day-to-day and you’ve been doing it for so long that it’s probably fine to just keep doing it.

but out of nowhere it hits you that maybe drinking coffee as much as you do is a waste of money and even if you don’t feel the negative effects constantly in your daily routine, you remind yourself of the times where you could distinctly feel the thump of your heart and the unsteady of your hands. you recall the time that you stayed up all night for the promise of a cup of coffee to get you through the day. in every memory that you’ve ever had in your entire college career, you’re holding a cup of coffee.

so one day you make the choice to stop. you stop buying coffee from coffee shops and pods for your coffee maker and cups from diners and accepting free ones from friends. you don’t really need a good cup of coffee as badly as you think you do. and it’s stupid, you think, because it’s just coffee. it doesn’t mean anything. just because you’ve been drinking it consistently for quite awhile doesn’t mean it has any sort of hold over you. it’s just coffee.

but then the headaches come and the irritation sets in and nights are hard, but for some reason mornings are unbearable, and you feel antsy all the time and you haven’t left your room in the past three days and the only thing you want is a cup of fucking coffee and you can’t relapse with coffee; it’s fucking coffee.

yeah, being away from gojo feels a lot like detoxing from coffee.

you try to just not see him. it’ll be easier for you if you just don’t see him, you tell yourself. you go out of your way to avoid his walking path on campus and you refuse to leave your dorm when you don’t absolutely need to in fear of bumping into him or worse, just seeing him from afar, and god forbid you even come within three streets of the corner where his apartment resides. you block his number and you delete social media off of your phone for the time being, too many mutual friends to make casualties, and you do not let yourself think about him. not falling asleep, not when you wake up, not while you’re doing homework, not in your dreams or in the shower, not when something reminds you of him, not when you see his favorite show on your recently watched, not when you really need a good cup of coffee.

and it works for a while.

but not forever.

three weeks into your detox and you’re doing such a good job at not thinking about gojo that you mix up his monday schedule with his tuesday schedule and on your way back to your dorm, you see him. if you keep walking at the same pace that you’re walking, you will collide with him. if neither of you do anything, one of you will get hurt.

you look down at your phone, hoping, in the forefront of your mind, that he didn’t see it was you. (in the back of your mind, you’re hoping that he’s the one to break the longest bout of silence the two of you have had since you met.) when you sneak a glance, he’s already almost reached you, jogging to catch up with you. “hey,” he calls out, just in case you haven’t seen him.

“hi,” you say, stopping in place and letting him approach you.

“i’ve been trying to get ahold of you,” he offers, like you wouldn’t have known that.

“oh, sorry, haven’t been on my phone,” you lie. he knows that you’re lying. he can tell that you’re lying, so you don’t really know why you lie in the first place. maybe to prove a point. maybe to make him feel bad.

“look, about…,” he trails off, trying to remember how long he’s been without you, “about that… day…,” he opts for instead.

you put your hand up, waving the topic off. you mean to say something like, don’t worry about it, see you later, but it comes out like, “we don’t have to talk about that here.” here. fucking here. if you would’ve left those four letters out, it would’ve been a perfect line to walk away with, but you don’t. your stupid coffee-craving brain tacks it on, hopeful.

“right,” he says, nodding, “should we get coffee maybe, then, or?”

it’s not out of the ordinary, or it didn’t used to be, but now it feels taboo. you want to snap and ask him if he’s sure, because coffee sounds a bit too much like a date for people that aren’t together, but you realize very quickly that the irritation from your coffee detox is maybe a little bit too much to hold in without any closure. “sure,” you agree, “i just got done with class so we cou-.”

“i know,” he says, because three weeks hasn’t erased your schedule from his brain either.

you order an iced tea. you’re still convinced you’re done with coffee for good. he looks surprised at your choice, like he’s never seen you order an iced tea before, because he hasn’t, but he doesn’t say anything. you sip on it throughout unpleasant pleasantries and it’s refreshing, but it’s lacking something. in fact, the longer that you drink this stupid drink that has caffeine anyways and isn’t as good, the irritation bubbles higher and higher until- “can i start?” you ask, tapping your fingers against the table in rhythmic succession.

“yeah, sure,” he says, bringing his coffee to his lips and taking a sip.

“if at any point in this conversation your answer to anything i have to say is that we weren’t together, i don’t think we should have this conversation,” you reason, and you mean it, but his reaction takes you aback. you notice the smallest flinch when you say weren’t.

“i wasn’t-,” he shakes his head, sighing, “no, i wasn’t going to say that.”

“okay,” you say, dragging your fingertips along the condensation on the side of your glass. “then what were you going to say?”

he thinks for a minute, like he didn’t assume that he’d get this far when he brought up the idea of coffee. “i wanted to stop you from leaving,” he says.

“but you didn’t,” you rebuttal.

“i didn’t,” he affirms. it’s quiet again. you can hear the scrape of the cups against the table as they’re picked up, drank from, and put back down. the chatter in the coffee shop drones over the sounds of hesitance and nerves. “i’m sorry,” he says after a while.

“so, do you think we were together?” you ask, “and be honest. i’ll know if you lie.” you search his face as he answers, and the only thing that comes up is another flinch when you talk in past tense again.

“yeah,” he says, honest. “being apart from you these past three weeks has been one of the shittiest things i’ve ever been through.”

“ever?” you ask, quirking your eyebrow, as if it isn’t somewhat true for you too.

he nods in response, continuing, “it’s been hard.” he pauses. “i’m sorry i was so shitty.”

“pretty shitty, yeah,” you agree, but you can’t hide how nice it feels to just talk with him again, to call him shitty and to sit across from him at a coffee shop table. “i’m sorry i ghosted you these past few weeks,” because it deserves to be said too.

“i really missed you,” he says, and he doesn’t hide from it. he looks you directly in your eyes and you can tell that he wants to reach across the table and hold your hand. you want that too.

“me or just, like, sleeping with me?” you ask, somewhat terrified of the answer, scanning his face for the truth once again.

he laughs softly and, try as you might, you can’t stop the fluttering in your stomach or the warmth in your cheeks hearing that for the first time in too long. “please, i haven’t thought about sleeping with you once,” he jokes.

“oh, no? not at all?” you ask, scoffing lightly, a tiny smirk threatening to break.

he forces a thoughtful frown, shakes his head dramatically and says, “can’t say that i have.” you’re laughing now, but through smile-squinted eyes you can still tell that he’s actually being genuine. “not really,” he says.

“so just me then?” you ask to make sure.

“just you,” he affirms. “a lot of just you.” you hum, content with his answer, but he gives you even more than thought he ever could, “i don’t want to just go back to the way things were. i don’t think that’s enough for me anymore.”

even though you’re sure a response like this would’ve sent waves of shock through your entire body, it doesn’t. it just feels right. you reply quickly, “good. i don’t think it’s enough for me either.” you reach across the table. the back of your hand brushes against his, and then past it. you wrap your fingers around the handle of his coffee cup and bring it to your lips.

he doesn’t protest or snatch it away from you or make a snarky comment. he places his chin in the palm of his hand, elbow against the surface of the table, and smiles at you. you take a sip from his mug, warmth spreading through every bit of your body.

why would you deprive yourself of coffee when it brings you so much comfort?

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ʙᴏɴᴜs! ʜɪɢᴜʀᴜᴍᴀ [ ɴ/ᴀ ]

you’re not exactly sure how many times something has to happen before it becomes a theme.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

“do you -huff- want to -huff- have kids someday?” higuruma asks from beneath you, palms resting on the tops of your knees, thumbs massaging up to the insides of your thighs.

you slow your bounces and then you stop them completely. you blink at him once and then twice. “that is a really wild thing to ask while you’re inside of someone,” you scoff, searching his face for any kind of tone indicator. is he being serious? is he just saying something to get a rise out of you? is this a kink thing?

he smirks, placing his hands on your hips, coaxing you to continue your movements, and you do. you lift yourself off of him, slowly at first, but then picking up speed as you chase the feeling you lost when he asked the question. you’re breathless when he asks again, the repeated question no longer stilling you. the second time around it feels almost normal. “do you?” he asks on his exhale.

you shake your head and then tilt it side to side, closing your eyes so all of the conflicting fast paced movements don’t dizzy you. “i- don’t- know-,” you huff, “maybe- conversation- for- a- different- setting.” each word is punctuated by the slap of your thighs against his hips. he nods, completely okay with that answer, and then just drops it.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

“shit,” you say in realization, hips circling, fingers combing through his hair. you pull your head away from his shoulder, pushing yourself up to look him in the eyes. “wait, how did your meeting go today?” you ask, and this time neither of you miss a beat.

when he slows to think about it, you pick up his slack, rolling your hips, feeling the drag of him inside of you, a breathy moan floating up your chest. he answers over your noises, “really good actually.”

“everything as planned?” you ask further, genuinely just as invested in this as you are in the act.

he nods, smiling. “yeah, to a t,” he says, wrapping his arms around your lower back and pulling you against his chest. he kisses the side of your temple, holding you in place with a tight grip as he lifts his hips off of the bed, thrusting into you. “surprised you didn’t ask as soon as i came through the door.”

you shake your head against his shoulder, placing a soft kiss against his collarbone. “was thinking about it all day,” you explain. he fucks into you faster in response and it feels like a reward for caring about the things that are important to him. “but when- shit- when you got home…,” you grunt, “it completely- ah, fuck- completely slipped my- ah- mind, s-sorry.”

“ts alright, pretty.” he nudges his nose against your cheek, peeling your attention to his face. your cheek rests against his shoulder and you blink at him, focus dipping from the topic at hand as you feel that familiar tightening in your core. he can see it written all over your face, so he drops his head to kiss you, silently communicating that you don’t have to worry about finishing the conversation right now. he’ll bring it up again in a bit.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

“should we get married?” he asks, back up against the headboard, looking you directly in your eyes, gaze following yours as you rise and fall.

“you are not proposing to me while i’m riding you,” you say, shaking your head, but you don’t still or slow. conversations like this in a setting like this just don’t phase you anymore. honestly, it wouldn’t surprise you if he did propose right now. you’re not even sure you’d say no.

the corner of his lip tugs upward and he exhales a laugh as he leans forward the smallest bit to kiss you. “i’m not, i’m not,” he assures, “why? would you say no?”

you’re quiet for a minute, not because you don’t know the answer, but to keep him on his toes. you won’t lie to him, you don’t think, but you don’t want to come right out and say it. his questions are rhetorical anyways, half-jokes that he’s not expecting serious answers to; you’ve known higuruma well enough and long enough to be confident of that. you could’ve replied with an eye roll and a scoff and nothing else and he would’ve dropped it. instead, however, you answer, “course not. i’d say yes in a second.”

he nearly comes inside of you right there.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

maybe it becomes a theme when someone points it out.

you can’t tell if it’s intentional or not, the way that the two of you keep having these serious conversations during sex. you know that you don’t do it on purpose; things will just hit you during the repetitive motions and you worry you’ll forget them and you know that higuruma won’t judge you for just saying them, so you do. whether this is the case for him, you’re not sure.

but the interruptions just keep getting more casual. it starts with big conversations: weddings and promotions and thoughtful decisions, and then it’s like you just start remembering things in this position: work drama and mundane did you knows. it’s almost as if starting with big topics just made it seem so easy to talk about anything like this.

it didn’t help, you think, that it’s just always easy to talk about anything with higuruma. you guys have been together, officially together, for over four years now, and conversation, no matter the topic or severity or setting, is something you’ve never struggled with. you continue to not struggle with it, inside of the bedroom and out.

you’re not sure what about the position and the moment makes you so susceptible to remembering little things that you want to tell higuruma when he’s not around, and vice versa. in fact, you’re not even convinced that it’s something about the action that jogs your memory anyway, it’s probably just a really weird and common coincidence.

and then one night you can’t find your keys.

you’ve searched everywhere for them, in your car, in your bag, every nook of your room, the places where they normally are, higuruma’s coat pocket just in case, and then everywhere else in your guys’ apartment. they’re nowhere to be seen.

when higuruma walks through the front door, even from where you’re searching in the kitchen, you hear him let out an elongated, “woah.”

you pop your head into the doorway, “don’t say anything about the mess.” you can see his eyes resting on the overturned couch cushions and then on the various opened drawers. “hey,” you warn, pointing towards him as you walk quickly into the living room. you throw your arms around him tightly and give him a small greeting peck. it’s routine at this point; if you don’t do it your whole night feels off. “i said don’t say anything.”

he lets you hang off of his neck as he puts both hands up in surrender. “i didn’t say shit,” he says, pressing a kiss into the side of your neck, then moving his hands to your waist, “the fuck happened here though?” he laughs against your skin and you can feel the vibrations travel to your fingers and toes.

you pull away from him, shaking your head. now that you’re back in the living room, it’s like you have to start this room’s search over too. you start checking under the couch and in the hall closet. “lost my fucking keys,” you grumble, smoothing your palms over your face, “i swear i’ve looked everywhere. i just can’t remember where i left them when i got home.”

“did you check th-,” he asks, walking into the kitchen, grateful that you’re not in there with him or he knows you’d yell at him for the way his eyes go wide at the clutter and chaos everywhere.

you cut him off, “wherever you’re about to say, probably yes, ughhh. i’ve retraced my steps, i’ve looked in places that are fucking stupid to look in like every pair of shoes we own and in the fucking guest bedroom pillowcases. i’ve looked everywhere.”

from where he’s stood in the kitchen now, he can see you scrambling as you vent. he leans against the wall, “well, not everywhere or you would’ve found it by now.”

“i’ll kill you,” you say, eyes snapping up to meet his to show how serious you are.

he just laughs, “i’ve got a pretty good lawyer, you might not want to do that.”

“good legal can’t help you when you’re dead,” you snap, almost completely joking. he meets you back in the living room, helping you check all the places you’ve already checked.

15 minutes pass and then 35 and then he stops abruptly. “oh my god, i have an idea,” he says, and you look at him, hopeful. “you know when you usually remember things?”

your first reaction is joking annoyance, picking up a throw pillow and sending it his way. he catches it and sets it back down on the couch. “i’m serious!” he yell-laughs.

you throw another pillow at him as your second reaction sets in. “that’s not going to fucking work,” you say.

“how do you know?” he asks.

“because,” you say, trying to come up with a good answer other than just blind doubt, “because i don’t remember things while i’m riding you. it’s not a fucking superpower.”

“you don’t know that,” he jokes back and braces to be hit with another pillow. “okay, okay, but i’m being serious! besides, what’s the worst thing that can happen? you don’t remember and we’ve had sex, how horrible,” he reasons.

you let your arms fall, pillow in your hands resting against the tops of your thighs. you look at him, thinking, which, in hindsight, was a dumb thing to do, because higuruma can see the contemplation on your face.

eight minutes later and he’s inside of you and you’re the most embarrassed you’ve ever been.

“this is so stupid,” you mumble. you haven’t moved an inch after slowly lowering yourself onto him. you’re fully seated against his hips, hands smoothing over your face and then lingering there, covering.

he reaches up, fingers soft and kind as he wraps them around your wrists, pulling them away from your face. “ts not stupid,” he reassures, but you’re not convinced. you groan, turning to look away from him, but that just won’t do. he reaches up again, soft grip on your chin coaxing your gaze back to his. “hey,” he says softly, “just focus here, angel.”

you listen, somewhat, mind still flickering back to why you’re even riding him in the first place. “just enjoy yourself, okay,” he tries again, rolling his hips upwards, pressing himself inside of you as deep as he can. you close your eyes, and it’s quite easy to just focus on the feeling of being as full as you are right now. “good,” he whispers, “just like that.”

it doesn’t take long for you to lose yourself completely, moving on your own, letting the whimpers and whines take over any other thought you might think to say, chasing that feeling rather than worrying about whatever you’ve lost.

it all kinda clicks at once: where your keys are and why you always remember shit when you’re like this.

in the midst of everyday noise, so many things get lost: important and unimportant thoughts alike. but now you’re not worried about anything else. you don’t care about anything else right now. you don’t have to. you don’t want to. and in this state of letting everything go, mindless and blissful, some things slip back through the cracks.

you collapse onto higuruma’s chest, spent and happily aware of this new revelation that you have not, for once, shared in the middle of sex, but kept quiet as a come down surprise. you hum softly as he rubs up and down your back, hum again as he presses a kiss into your forehead. “m sorry it didn’t work, angel,” he murmurs.

you turn your head, ear pressed right against his heart as you gaze up at him. “i left them in the fridge,” you reveal, and he knits his eyebrows together.

you assume that he’s going to say something about how did you leave them in the fridge? or why are they there? but instead he questions, “what? and you didn’t tell me until now?” like you’ve harbored a life long secret. you laugh softly, snaking your hands up and scratching your nails against his scalp, playing with the ends of his hair. “don’t think this is going to get you out of it,” he says, “‘ts my favorite thing when you just blurt shit while you’re on me.”

you can feel the warmth in your cheeks and your chest as you breathe a laugh. “you’ve never told me that before,” you murmur.

“think it’s cute when you just can’t wait to tell me things,” he says, “feels more intimate than being inside of you.”

“ew,” you say, scrunching up your nose, even though you weirdly agree.

he just laughs in response. a few seconds of quiet comfort pass before he backtracks, “wait, why the fuck are your keys in the fridge?”

and you tell him all about it, about the day that you’ve had and how you remembered you hadn’t drank enough water so you were refilling your bottle from the pitcher in the fridge as soon as you got home from work, but your hands were full so you set your keys on top of the leftovers from yesterday, but then you had to go and set everything down and the fridge closed and by the time you left the kitchen you remembered you needed to do something else… and it just keeps going.

you tell him as you’re taking a shower and as you’re eating dinner together and as he’s brushing his teeth and you’re washing your face and laying in bed and setting your alarms. every room in the house is a mess, but you’ll deal with that later, you decide. you rest your chin on his shoulder. “and how was your day?” you ask, even though the clock reads much later than it should for how much sleep you both should get before you’re up early for work tomorrow.

nevermind that, he decides, and tells you all about it anyways.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ʙᴏɴᴜs! ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ [ ɴ/ᴀ ]

“can i ask you something and when i ask you, you’ll know i don’t mean anything bad by it at all because i love you more than everything in the world?” you ask, putting down your phone only after you’ve finished your sentence.

you wait a few seconds for nanami to take in what you’ve asked. he reaches over to the night stand for his bookmark and sticks it between the pages. he shuts it with an audible shuffling of paper and a sharp thump.

nanami has been with you long enough to not typically be surprised by your out of the blue… questions. (dronings? is there a word like droning but the connotation is more positive? like you talk at him a lot and he loves to hear the ramblings in your brain, but sometimes he is just trying to read his book before bed. whatever that word is.)

he places the book on his lap and then turns his chest towards you completely. you now have his full attention. “is that a yes?” you ask.

he inhales deeply, “if i say no, will you still ask it?”

you think on the answer to that question, really mulling it over before shaking your head. “no, i don’t think so.”

“then yes,” he smirks, “i suppose i have to say yes then.”

“great,” you say, tossing your phone onto your bedside table with a clunk. you sit up straighter, rocking forward to fully adjust your position on your side of the bed. you put your hand on his thigh and cross your legs, letting your knee rest on the side of his comforter covered hip. “do you ever regret not dating more?”

it definitely takes him by surprise. he thought you might drop another weirdly specific hypothetical about would he love you if… or request a glass of water even though you already told him tonight when he was getting into bed and he asked if you wanted one, that you did not.

now he’s the one mulling over your question and despite how nerve wracking it could be to wait for an answer to a what if that involves not you, you’re not anxious in the slightest. you’re quiet, just waiting for his answer, and when he finally speaks, you know exactly why you weren’t scared in the first place, “i’ve honestly never thought about it since i met you.”

“really?” you ask, and you’re mostly feeling very lucky that nanami is yours and you are his, but there is an underlying feeling of guilt that he’s unintentionally caused with this statement.

he nods. “sounds like you have though,” he says, and it’s not even a little bit judgmental. it sounds like he’s imploring you to keep talking, like he wants to hear exactly what you’re thinking, why you brought it up in the first place.

“i wouldn’t trade this security, this love, exactly what we have, you for anything in the world,” you start to explain, and it’s nothing but the truth, “but sometimes i just think about that first night when we were in that bar. the flirting, the risks, that feeling of not knowing where the night is going to end up. sometimes i think about that a little bit.”

he hums, thinking about that night, and after a few seconds of silence, he speaks up again, “first date nerves,” he nods, “now that i think about it, i miss those.”

you cock your head at him. that’s a weird part of dating to miss, you think, but then he explains further, “like when we went out on our first date and i didn’t know what you were going to wear or if you liked the restaurant i picked or if you’d let me pay for your food.”

“or if i’d take you back to mine,” you joke, raising your eyebrows at him, but really you’re burning inside. your cheeks feel warm just hearing about these feelings he’s never mentioned to you before.

“yeah, that too,” he laughs, getting back on track, “like, i’m still finding out new things about you all the time, but back then i was discovering who you were every second we were together, and that- that felt like…”

“like finding out soulmates were real?” you ask, because that’s what it felt like to you, that same exact phenomenon he’s describing. he smiles at you warmly, like you’ve just put to words what he felt he could only experience. “i know what you mean,” you smile.

he leans forward, cupping your cheek with his hand and guiding you towards him. he kisses you softly, placing his other hand on your other cheek and kissing you harder. “should we go on a first date again?” he asks against your lips, barely pulling away to speak.

you laugh, but when you pull away, you can tell he’s not joking. “what?” you ask, “what do you mean?” you’re already blushing though, already feeling the exact first date nerves he was just talking about.

“let’s go on a first date,” he repeats himself. “i’ll pick you up at your front door and i’ll choose the restaurant and it’ll be a surprise and i’ll ask you questions that i’d ask you on a first date even if i know the answers to all of them and more at this point.”

you’re smiling so big that your cheeks are sore as you nod fervently at the concept. “okay, yeah,” you agree.

“right, so we probably shouldn’t kiss or make out or sleep with each other until then to really play into the whole thing?” he teases, and you roll your eyes in response.

“you’re very funny, kento,” you say, leaning in, brushing your nose against his. he doesn’t even last a second, closing the gap with a small peck and then another and then another and then a much longer one and then he’s putting the book on his nightstand so he can pull you into his lap.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

you get a text 5 minutes before 7 that nanami is going to be 3 minutes late picking you up. the text looks a little weird underneath a thread of:

>> nami <3 >> how’s work baby

<< read << if you love me you’ll come and pull the fire alarm to get me out of here early :) :) :)

>> nami <3 >> fine but that’s a class four felony in some cases. will you be providing legal assistance or should i look elsewhere????

<< read << how do u know that?? nerd!!!

>> nami <3 >> google tbh.

<< read << wow. first i have to stay at work all day alone and sad and now i get to know my bf isn’t sexy and off the dome smart about everything. :(

>> nami <3 >> goodbye.

<< read << :(

>> nami <3 >> i love you

<< read << :)

you bite back the urge to reply with something you’d say to him after knowing him for years. rereading the text and thinking back to your first date, it makes you giggle. actually, it makes you kinda nervous. you text back a polite no worries! take your time! and he replies with a heart and you truly feel like you’re dating for the first time again. you feel honest to god giddy.

arriving to the restaurant, you are genuinely surprised. you thought after knowing him as long as you have and having gone to as many restaurants with him as you have, you’d go back to somewhere nice you’ve already been. but that isn’t the case.

he drives you to a pop-up restaurant 20 minutes out of town that you’ve never even heard of, but is the cutest place you’ve ever been, and the entire time he can’t stop sneaking respectful glances at you. he won’t stop telling you how nice you look. he even apologizes for it by the sixth time, pushing your chair in at the restaurant saying, “i know i keep mentioning it, and i’m sorry, but if i said it every time i thought it, it’d be a never ending string.”

if he keeps this up, you’re going to feel like you’re cheating. this seriously feels like a first date, like you’ve been in a relationship for over 5 years and you’re also going on a first date and it’s really messing with your head, but you never want it to stop.

he stays true to his word, asking you questions he already knows the answers to, but hearing them again, they sound brand new. he doesn’t know if he’s just forgotten some of them or if the testaments of time have weathered your answers just enough to sound unfamiliar, but either way, he’s hanging on to every word.

by the end of the night, you’ve truly convinced yourself that there are stakes to this date, like if you play your cards wrong, you won’t get to keep seeing this incredible guy. he pays the whole bill, even though you insist on getting your meal or at the very least dessert. he says, “you can try next time too.” and you can’t breathe, you feel so lucky.

“i’m sorry if this seems forward, but i’d really like to keep seeing you tonight,” you say as the waiter takes away the paid bill, and your heart is thumping so violently against your chest, you swear he can feel it too.

he shakes his head, “perfectly forward,” he smiles, “your place or mine?” you break character for the first time tonight, giggling at the reality of the question, hiding behind your hand as you do. “what’s so funny?” he asks, but he’s grinning just as big as you are.

“just thinking about how dreary my life would be if i hadn’t gone on this first date,” you say, and it’s a little too meta, but he’ll let it slide, because he’s a bit flustered at the sentiment. “mine is great,” you answer, placing your hand on his, rubbing the tips of your fingers against his knuckles.

everything about the rest of the night feels like a first too. it feels like your first kiss in front of your front door. it feels like he’s seeing “your” apartment for the first time. it feels like you’re making out on your couch for the first time.

it feels like the first time he’s ever been inside of you.

when he pushes deeper into you, eyes on yours shut tight, you tell yourself that you want to pretend you’re on a first date every single day of your life. you can’t stop whimpering, pleading for him to never stop fucking you ever, please don’t stop, please never fucking stop.

you break character for the second time when you’re right on the edge. he keeps looking down at you with so much love in his eyes and his hands all over you feel like they know every inch of you, and you can’t stop yourself. you grab his face in your hands, “kento, baby, please, ‘m gonna- ‘m sorry, i- fuck, please. i love you, fuck,” you whine, and he can’t stop himself either, hips stuttering, head falling against your shoulder as he feels you clenching around him as he empties himself inside of you, murmuring how much he loves you right back.

the way you’ve been feeling all night: blissful and coy, it’s not because it’s a first date, it’s because he’s nanami. it’s because he’s orchestrated the entire night and no matter how “new” everything feels, the underlying foundation of that newness, and the reason everything feels so good, is familiarity and safety.

“i’m sorry that i-,” you breathe, but he stops you, reaching his hand up to drag his fingertips against your lips, and you laugh, pressing a soft kiss into them. “okay, okay,” you say, and he places his hand back down by his side. “done with the first date stuff, just want to be yours again,” you murmur.

he scoffs, light, and you can hear his smile in it. he falls over onto his back, pulling you into his chest and kissing the top of your head. “never weren’t,” he mumbles against your hair. “always will be,” he mumbles again, holding you tighter.

“good,” you say back, settling into his arms like that’s the only thing you know to be true in the entire world. you wouldn’t trade that truth for a million first dates.

sure, holding your breath at quick witted flirts and stolen glances is nice, but it’s a lot nicer just knowing that you will never be loved better and you will never love harder.

♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡ no bc the yelling really worked very well idk yell at me more to write a continuation for toji (maybe also gojo bc hes the only one i havent written even an inkling of smut for) idk i'm just thinking of so many scenes idk throw hcs at me in my inbox IDK! toji dating for the first time? got me fucked UP

ᡣ𐭩 ᴛᴀɢs ᡣ𐭩 @igocrazyeveryday @vernasce-blogs @minty86 @abrielletargaryen @pompompompompompompom @mysticrays @lilolpotato @thisisew @pnkoo @optimisticsandwichgladiator @ryumurin @cisseadven @multi-fandom-fanfic @noosayog @anxious-chick @mintleafwrites @(tried to tag some other folks but couldnt!!)

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #toji x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #geto smut #toji smut #gojo smut #nanami x reader #nanami smut #higuruma x reader #higuruma x reader smut #higuruma smut #nanami x reader smut #jjk x reader smut #actually not really tbh theres no smut in tojis or gojos cant even lie #toriwritesshit

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drewstarkeyslut · 23 days

Text

WICKED GAMES ᡣ𐭩

You were at the bonfire party with your new bf, JJ, and a few of his friends. Rafe watched you from a distance, the whole night, he only took his eyes off of you maybe a handful of times. He wanted to make sure he left before you did. Top and Kelce were talking to him and he would nod his head and smile as if he were even listening to them. His mind was elsewhere, on you, and you only.

It had been a little over a month since you broke up with Rafe and he still never got over it, never got over you. He was sure you two would get back together, but then he saw you with JJ. That’s when he felt his blood boil, eye twitch, his jaw clench and his free, drinkless hand balled into a fist. He didn’t enjoy seeing his girl with her hands all over another, you making out and looking so in love with Maybank made him sick to his stomach. That was you with him just not too long ago and he then realized just how much he loved you, missed you, needed you back and he was going to get you back. He was sure of it.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, dubcon, cheating by force?, smut (p in v), spitting, choking, creampie, slightly dark!rafe, toxic!rafe

A/N: idk what this is tbh but i randomly thought about this the other day and wrote out a little blurb!!!🫣 if there are any mistakes i apologize😭

3 hours later

You unlock the front door and notice that the whole house was dark, completely pitch black, no lights on in sight. You knew your parents were gone for the night but they usually always left the one light in the main foyer on if they leave when it’s dark out. You didn’t think too much of it, maybe they just forgot. You were tired and just wanted to take a shower and unwind in bed. You walk up the stairs and head for the bathroom, taking a quick shower you step out and wrap the towel around your body.

As you walk down the hallway toward your room, you start to get an eerie feeling. You swore you left the door to your room open when you left the house, but for some reason it was closed. You cautiously stepped in front of the door and open it and peek around. Nothing, except your window being slightly open letting cold air in. A creaking noise coming from the wood floors make you gasp, gripping onto your towel as you spun around. Again, nothing.

“What the fuck…” you whispered to yourself, and walk over to turn the light switch on. When you turned your back and walk close enough to the switch you heard another creak and before you could turn around your mouth was covered with a large ring clad hand, his body pressed against your back. You knew that scent from a mile away. Rafe fucking Cameron. His free hand reaches for his belt, and you hear him unbuckle and slide it right off. You sob underneath his hand.

“Missed me? Oh come on, I know you did. Shhh, it’s going to be okay Y/n. You going to be a good girl f’me and keep that fucking mouth shut if I move my hand hmm?” Rafe breathed in your ear. You nod, not sure what was happening but you were definitely freightened yet turned on. He removes his hand, turning you around to face him and your towel drops to the floor.

“Shit. You’re so fucking beautiful. I missed seeing that pretty little face and tight body of yours.” He rasped and eyed you as he gripped your wrists behind your back and tightly wrapped his belt around them.

“Rafe, h-how..” You stutter.

“What baby girl, cat got your tongue?” Rafe grips your chin, squeezing your cheeks and planting a kiss on your lips. You squirm and he pulls away.

“How did you get in my house? I fucking broke up with you almost two months ago! Why now? I’m with JJ now and you know that. You obsessed with me or something? Are you just fucking insane?! I don’t want you, anymore. Don’t you get it?!!” You scream, trying to free yourself from Rafe’s grip. He just stares at you, a blank look on his face. It ticked you off so you spit on his face, landing right underneath his eye.

“Oh. Now you fucking did it. You little brat!” Rafe grips your hair and slams your head back into the wall. He wipes the spit of his face and brings that hand to his mouth as he spits and smears it on your cheek then grabs you by your throat.

You don’t cower, you just stare into Rafe’s darkened eyes. “What are you going to do to me? Whatever it is just get it over with and fucking go. I want you to leave.” You sighed. You start to think about JJ and how you wish you were still with him right now especially in this moment. You wish you had asked him to stay the night.

“Maybank doesn’t deserve you. I do. I know what you like, what you want, what you need. He doesn’t know you like I do Y/n and you know it..even if it’s deep down in you. You should be with me.” Rafe boomed.

“You don’t know what the fuck I want anymore, Rafe.” You mutter. Lie. He still knew exactly what turned you on, that’s for sure.

“I know you’re turned on right now. You’re a slut. My little slut Y/n. You know you want this.” Rafe coos. He presses his bulge against you and plants kisses down your neck, making your legs buckle and heart beat faster.

You tried to stop yourself from feeling things because it wasn’t with JJ. This was Rafe, your ex the one you tried your best to stay away from. Your body was betraying you and you couldn’t fight it. Rafe pulls away from your neck and grabs your hair pulling you down to the floor onto your knees. He wins.

“Look at me Y/n. Open up.” Rafe grabs your chin forcing you to look into his eyes, spits in your mouth and with his other hand he shoves two fingers into your mouth. “I’m going to fuck you so god damn hard, you’re going to forget who JJ is. The only cock you’ll be needing and begging for is mine.” Rafe growled.

“Whatever you say. Give it to me already then. You going to pound this pussy or what?” You taunted once he let his fingers slip right out of your mouth. You were horny now and you couldn’t deny even if you wanted to.

“Don’t fucking test me brat!” Rafe grabs you by the arm and throws you against the bed, on your stomach. “I want you to say it.”

“What the fuck do you want me to say?” You retort, sticking your ass up for Rafe to have the best view of your round ass.

“Say that you want my cock, that you need me to fuck you.” Rafe grins and licks his lips.

“I want you to fuck me until I can’t breathe anymore Rafe. I want you to ruin me.” You smirk, looking behind you as Rafe takes his clothes off until he’s completely stripped down. Your mouth salvitates at the sight of his rock hard cock dripping with precum.

“Mmm that’s what I like to hear my little slut.” Rafe groans, shoving your head into the mattress and lining his cock up to your slick entrance.

“Fuck, so god damn tight and fucking dripping f’me baby girl.” Rafe grunts, thrusting his length in and out of your cunt, hitting the right spot.

“Oh—my god! Raaaaafe! Fuck, yes, yes!” You screamed.

“Tsk tsk, what would JJ think of you if he knew my cock was stretching your pretty little pussy out and you were screaming my name hmm? Such a fuckin’ slut.” Rafe laughs as he slaps your ass, pounding his cock into you even harder, ten times faster.

“Fuck you Rafe, but fuuuuck you feel so damn good. I hate you.” You mumble in a breathy tone. His cock filling you up felt too good to be thinking about anything else in the moment, especially JJ.

He shifts, lifting your leg up from underneath your knee, his cock brutally slamming back into your pussy and his other hand covers your mouth. “Ah, ah. Do you ever just shut up? Be a good girl, keep quiet and take this fucking cock.” Rafe bellowed and all you could do was moan underneath his large hand.

“I’m going to cum in this pussy baby girl and you’re going to go to sleep with my cum inside of you tonight.” Rafe whispers in your ear, his breathing becoming erratic as he was close to his climax.

He became rougher with every thrust, your pussy felt so sore you swear you wouldn’t be able to walk for days. His hand falls from your mouth and reaches forward rubbing circles on your clit.

“Rafe, mhmm just like that. Oh right there. Fuck I’m cumming!” You screamed, your legs were shaking from your orgasm. You haven’t came that hard in a while.

“Shit— m’gonna cum! You ready for it my little cumslut? Yeah? You want to be filled to the brim?” Rafe moans out. His dick throbbing and pulsating as he released his load deep into your sweet wet cunt.

“This was a one time thing Rafe, won’t happen again. Take this belt off of my wrists and go, please.” You mutter, frustratednow that it was over that you let Rafe get to your head and your body. He unwraps the belt from your wrists but brings it to your neck and throws you down on the bed using the belt to keep you down.

“No Y/n. See that’s where you’re wrong. I will fuck you whenever I please. You’re mine, I don’t give two shits about JJ. When I call you, you will pick up. Do you understand?” Rafe snaps as he hovers over you.

“I—I understand Rafe.” You whimper. You watch Rafe get dressed and walk out the door. Fuck! Rafe Cameron will be the death of me.

mooties/taglist: @drudyslut @rafesthroatbaby @babygorewhore @oceandriveab @mellillasstuff @anqeliclust @rafescurtainbangz @rafesmuse @redhead1180 @angelofcigs @rowanswriting @beautifuldisaster88 @pankowperfection @psychwxrdd @cokepewpsii

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heavenlycloud · 2 months

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le sserafim reaction to you doing a tiktok trend on them: le sserafim x fem! reader

authors note: i wrote this back when these trends were actually trending a few months ago. this wasn't requested but i got the idea while scrolling through tiktok and forgot to post it so here it is!

tw// VERY VERY light barely there suggestive remarks

sakura ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚

you and your members had just gotten finished with weeks of packed schedules with little rest. finally, you were finally fixing your sleeping schedule and feeling less like a zombie and more like a human being again. your members were decompressing in their own ways like yunjin who was lost in her own world strumming on her guitar in the room beside yours. chaewon and kazuha were watching some new drama in the living room and eunchae was asleep in her room. sakura busied herself with her new hobby, crocheting, while listening to a video with her headphones on. you watched your girlfriend make her new project- a small bag made of mesh-like stitches. her brows furrowed in concentration as she tried to count her stitches in her head so not to disturb you sitting silently across from her. she assumed you were reading a new book from your online library but you were actually just watching tiktoks. after seven chapters of your novel you'd lost interest and switched to something more entertaining. you'd stumbled onto a trend of girls asking their boyfriends to hand them an orange, then asking if they'd peel it for them to see the reaction. with nothing else to do you decided to give it a try:

"kkura?" you poked your girlfriend with your socked foot and she answered without looking up from her crocheting, "yes?" you put your phone in your lap and sighed, "i want a clementine, do you know if we have any?" sakura hummed and looked up, "there's some in the kitchen inside of the refrigerator in the bottom left drawer. i just got them for you yesterday on my way home." you smiled at the mention because you didn't ask her to buy them for you yesterday, she just did it because she thought you'd enjoy them. you clasped a clip back onto one of the twists that fell into your face before you asked sweetly, "can you please get it?" without hesitation sakura nodded and said while still focusing on the hook and yarn in her hand, "gimmie one second." when she finished her row she went to get your clementine and returned with two and a paper towel.

your girlfriend sat back down and began peeling the clementines for you without you having to ask. she even pulled the little stringy parts that you hated most off and threw them away with the peels. when she handed you back the peeled fruits you asked, "why did you peel them for me?" sakura answered easily, "you don't like how the peels gets stuck under your nails so i did it. enjoy." you leaned over and kissed her cheek, "thank you, kkura." she pressed a kiss to your temple, "of course my love."

chaewon ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚

despite being a part of gen z and being called one of the best gen z idols by fans, you were underqualified in one area: social media. you didn't even remember to check your texts let alone what was trending across different apps. the only reason you knew if something was on trend or not was because of fans or your friends teaching you. however, after being teased about it you promised yourself that you'd keep up a little more just for fun. plus, your bosses suggested it'd be good for fan service and engagement which was always a good thing. but, what wasn't a good thing was that little promise to keep up with trends resulted in you now being 'chronically online' according to yunjin. you scrolled through your for you page and watched yet another video of a woman asking her partner, "name a woman." after going down a rabbit hole of the same type of video you decided to try it out on your own girlfriend.

"baby." you shook chaewon lightly as she laid in your arms with her cheek pressed against your bare shoulder. she answered sleepily, "hmmm?" you grinned as you told her, "name a woman."

chaewon pulled away from you slightly and asked, "what do you mean?" you responded plainly, "name a woman." your girlfriend toyed with one of your box braids and asked once more in confusion, "any woman?" you clarified, "any woman." she then replied without a second thought, "han sohee." you let out a huff and tried again, "name a different woman." chaewon answered again with a different name, "bada lee." you could almost hear the smile in her voice that time and you whined, "you were supposed to say my name!" your girlfriend pulled away from you fully and told you, "you said 'name a woman' not 'name my woman'. there's a difference, you're mine."

yunjin ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚

you were no stranger to the song water by tyla or the dance challenge that went along with it. one evening while you were on a weverse live you'd played the song after seeing people comment the title. you sang along to it and mentioned with a smirk, "i want to perform this on a stage so bad guys. i learned the dance and everything but i don't know if i'd ever be able to show you. ever since you'd randomly danced to WAP during a live a year ago, you've been monitored more than your other members. but after fans demanded for days on end you were finally allowed to post your water challenge on tiktok.

"i dunno i think you need to do it again." yunjin sat in front of you with her back against the mirror in the dance practice room. your girlfriend was acting as your camerawoman for your tiktok challenge, and she had you redo the dance nearly 15 times now. you taught her the dance earlier and she was doing it a little too well yet she insisted only you be in the video. she eyed you up and down with her gaze lingering on your rolled up tank top and sweatpants that sat low on your hips. you sighed and did the dance again along to the music before asking her, "was that one better? lemme see-" you reached for her phone and she said, "oh i wasn't recording that." your eyes widened and you asked, "wha- why not?! were you recording any of them?" yunjin shook her head and you smacked her arm, "yunjin! you had one job!" your girlfriend defended herself, "what? you can't expect me to remember what i'm supposed to do if you're shaking all that in my face." she wrapped her arms around your waist and kissed your neck but you pulled away.

you told her, "you can have me later okay? now focus!" just as you were pulling away she looped her fingers around one of the strings of beads that sat on your hips. yunjin tied a hoodie around your torso and said, "much better. now i can focus." you rolled your eyes and told her, "you're no better than a man." she waved you off, "yeah okay. just do your little dance...i'm ready now i swear."

kazuha ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚

you knew that yunjin created a monster when she introduced your members to chipotle and not even a full day later kazuha was saying she missed it. every time she looked back through her camera roll for pictures to post she was sending her chipotle photo to the group chat saying she wanted it again. you found it hilarious because all it took was one bowl and she was already whining about how korea needed to get hip to the fast food chain.

one night after scrolling through your tiktok feed you saw a man recreate chipotle at home for his wife so you thought you'd try it for kazuha. you couldn't find all of the exact recipes but you came pretty close despite the fact that cilantro just doesn't really exist in korea. but knowing your girlfriend, she'd appreciate anything that you gave her so it was fine.

"zuha! baby come here i have something for you." you called kazuha to the kitchen where you had all of the food laid out in containers on the table. you handed her a bowl and said, "i made you chipotle." kazuha's eyes lit up and she nearly jumped over the table to tackle you into a hug. she clapped her hands together and you stood on the other side of the table to serve her your home version of chipotle. she was more than happy to post about it on weverse, showing the meal off to everyone especially knowing that her members weren't around to steal any off her plate.

#kpop fanfic #girl group imagines #girl group scenarios #kpop imagines #girl group fluff #kpop reactions #kpop scenarios #le sserafim scenarios #lesserafim imagines #le sserafim reactions #kpop girl group #yunjin imagines #kazuha imagines #sakura imagines #chaewon imagines #le sserafim x reader

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bia-wayne-west · 3 months

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Mom has a tattoo [Tim Drake x Batmom]

Synopsis: Tim Drake discovers that his mother, Batmom, got a tattoo without anyone knowing.

Characters: Tim Drake, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne and Reader[You]

A/N: I wrote this in a few minutes, I hope it’s good. I made this imagine inspired by the fantastic imagine of @ellana-ravenwood. I hope that you who are reading have fun and enjoy what I wrote. Apologies for bad grammar

Requests are open

MASTERLIST

It was a surprise for your baby Tim. When he saw the birds drawn on his skin, Tim was by tour side when he noticed.

It all happened when you decided to watch a new TV show on Netflix. First, you made sure all your children, your husband, and Alfred were busy somewhere. Whenever you sit on the big sofa in the living room, one of your babies runs to sit next to you, demanding all your love and attention.

But this time you got confused and forgot to check if Timothy had his eyes on the video game. You were wearing a sleeveless t’shirt and old leggings. Your feet were covered in socks you stole from Bruce's closet.

You were watching the TV show's protagonist lie to her boyfriend. You felt like you were being watched and noticed your third child standing at the entrance to the room with a box of chocolates in his hand. You smiled at Timothy and patted the couch next to him. The boy ran with the candy in his hands, throwing himself next to you with a huge smile on his face.

“I was going down to the Batcave when I noticed you were watching Netflix alone. I came to keep you company, mom.”

“Oh my baby. Thank you for staying here with me.”

When you leaned over to pick up a bag of jelly beans, your hair fell to the side and tour shoulder was exposed. Timothy let out an exclamation of surprise when he saw that you had four birds tattooed on your shoulder. When you returned to your normal position, you noticed your baby looking at you with surprised eyes.

“DO YOU HAVE A TATTOO?” He shouted, pursing his lips.

You laughed and rolled down your shirt sleeve so the boy could see your tattoo in full.

“I did this a month ago. It has a meaning. I have four chicks and I made four birds to have my beautiful chicks with me until the end.”

“ Ah, it’s a beautiful meaning. But I would never have imagined that my mother would get a tattoo. Tattooing is something for young people.”

“Oh my god, Timothy, this really offended me.” You said, placing your hand on your chest while laughing. “ I want to have you with me even when I'm in a coffin and now I have you marked on my skin.”

“We will always be with you, mom. I love you and my brothers too.”

He hugged you tightly, smiling. You smiled back, thinking about the fact that Timothy rarely called Dick, Jason, and Damian brothers. It was unique to see that he really cared about his family.

“I love you, my little bird.”

Your lips kissed Tim's warm forehead. His head touched your shoulder and the two of you continued watching the TV show.

“Mom, when I'm sixteen, can you convince Dick and Jason to get a family tattoo? Like birds or a bat?”

“Of course, my dear. We can also include Bruce and Alfred and of course Damian when he's older."

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scmg11 · 6 months

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KATE BISHOP x READER

SEX EDUCATION (PART 3)

A/N: HELLO PEOPLE! I MISSED YOU SO SO MUCH! I am so sorry for disappearing again, but college is so freaking hard!

Since I took a bit of time off studying to relax a bit, I took advantage of it with proofreading a few stories I already finished writing, so here's a new chapter for you!

I want to be honest, I wrote this chapter probably around 5 or 6 months ago and I seriously forgot how long I made it 😂 so I may got carried away a bit, I think?!

Without further ado, ENJOY! ❤️

Sending so much love to all of you patiently waiting for my update, I love you ❤️

[1/3]

Summary: Y/N and Kate are in San Francisco on a school trip, but this won't stop for some shenanigans, will it?

Warnings: smut. The fluffiest smut I ever wrote.

Word count: 25293 words.

"Okay guys, I know the bus trip here was tiring, so you have around 5 hours to rest a bit before we are meeting back here for dinner."

Y/N waited for all her students to take the elevator and go to their respective rooms before smiling at Kate when they were the only ones left. She pressed the elevator button and waited for it to arrive, the loud ‘ding’ echoing in the oddly quiet lobby a bit later and both walked in, before pressing the button to their floor and waited for the elevator’s doors to close to assess the elephant in the room, "did that really happen or did I lost my mind and imagined Yelena and Cassie here?"

"I wish it was the latter, except you loosing your mind babe of course. Anyway, no, you didn’t imagine them. They are actually here."

"I guess we underestimated their ‘we wish to be there with you guys’ too much." Kate chuckled as she wrapped her head around the absurdity of it while staring at the numbers on the elevator’s display as it ascended to their floor.

"Yeah." Y/N sighed out loud, thinking about everything over into her head and massaging her temples gently to relieve a bit the incoming headache, "I also can’t believe Maria gave them the go-ahead to be here!"

"Well, they could’ve easily just ignored anything she told them and came here on their own."

"I don’t know why but it seems something they would do." Y/N and Kate chuckled at the accurate possibility while shaking their heads fondly at their best friends’ antics.

They both exited the elevator as soon as they heard the loud ‘ding’ and the doors opened and walked towards their designated room, Y/N opening it and moving to the side to let Kate enter it first, smiling fondly at the archer’s ‘thank you’ as she passed by her, before doing the same and closing the door behind her. "Hello lovebirds."

"Holy shit-YELENA!" Kate exclaimed as Y/N and her jumped up in fright at the Russian making her presence known by sliding out of her hiding place in the en-suite with a smug grin on her face, before clenching their fists and got ready to fight their intruder. "Babe, you can relax, it’s just Yelena and Cassie."

"I know, that’s why I didn’t move." Y/N let out through gritted teeth and relaxed only when Yelena laughed heartily at the joke and walked towards her to hug her tightly with her still in her combat position.

"C’mon Y/N Y/L/N I know you want to hug me back. Don’t deny it." Y/N sighed loudly before caving in and relaxing her hands she had been keeping in closed fists between their bodies and slung them around Yelena’s torso to hug her back.

"What about me?" Kate asked with a pout at Yelena after embracing Cassie when she saw Yelena walk past her and sit on their bed with a smug grin on her lips and a totally not innocent glint in her eyes.

"No hugs for you. You tend to cling onto people when you hug them."

"You are making it seem like it’s a bad thing!" Kate countered back with a toothy smile before rushing towards Yelena when she sighed loudly with a fond roll of her eyes as she opened her arms to silently give Kate her permission to hug her.

"Ugh." Yelena groaned loudly when Kate crashed over her body forcefully and made them both tumble back on the mattress, "Kate Bishop, always so gracious." Yelena teased Kate as she caressed her back softly before feeling other two bodies slump onto Kate’s back and consequently crashing down on her body, making her groan a bit at the added weight on herself.

"She loves us." Y/N told Cassie and smirked widely when Yelena groaned at them to get off of her, staying for just a few more seconds still before moving away and sitting on the bed comfortably with her friends and girlfriend. "So, we have to assume you guys are here without Maria knowing, right?"

"It will come out as shocking, but she actually knows we’re here." Cassie answered with a bright smile, lifting her hand up to high-five Yelena and making Y/N and Kate chuckle at their childish behavior, but also smiling fondly at them for finally bonding.

"Yeah, she allowed us to stay here with you guys while you are on this field trip." Yelena explained further as she shrugged nonchalantly, both Y/N and Kate eyeing the two blondes suspiciously.

"That’s it?" Y/N lifted her right eyebrow up in question, meeting Kate’s eyes for a brief second to find the same amount of wariness and doubt in her beautiful ocean eyes before staring Yelena down with an hard gaze and an unamused expression glued on her features. She watched as Yelena met her gaze head on, making Y/N smile warmly and shake her head at her knowing she would never make Yelena cave in and confess her secrets that easily since she was a Black Widow and had to endure a really tough training. But she knew Yelena would never lie, that was one of the many beautiful qualities she had, among being a loyal friend, a literal puppy that needs to be protected despite her ‘I’m a badass that never smiled’ façade and so pure of heart both Y/N and Kate, alongside the other Avengers, found really shocking to witness after all the atrocities both Yelena and Natasha had to endure, but neither of them lost their heart and somehow made it grow ten sizes as they protected it at all costs. "So you are telling me neither of you bugged her that much to the point of her caving in and sending you here?"

"No." Cassie answered right away as she avoided both Y/N’s and Kate’s hard gazes and sighed out loud when Yelena answered Y/N’s question at the same time as her.

"Yes. And it worked perfectly! Can you believe she actually lasted only a full day? I usually need a few days to convince Kate and she is the one that caves easily the most to any kind of request!"

"That’s not true! I only do that with Y/N whenever she ask me something." Kate countered back with a frown before smiling at Y/N lovingly, who awed at her and leaned over Yelena to reach to Kate sat on her left and pecked her lips softly.

"Ohw that was so cute!" Cassie exclaimed with literally heart eyes while Yelena rolled her eyes and pushed the two apart forcefully with her hands on their foreheads.

"Ugh, get a room." Yelena groaned before dodging both Y/N’s and Kate’s punch with a small laugh.

"Well if I remember correctly, we are in our room." Y/N answered with a smug smirk and watched as Yelena rolled her eyes and grunted out as she waved her off before crossing her arms petulantly.

"Wait hold on, speaking of which, how did you manage to book a room together?"

"And we’re finally alone!" Y/N groaned and leaned her back on the door after closing it, before humming in appreciation when Kate leaned into her body and cuddled her.

"An entire day without doing this." Kate trailed off to pull her face away from its hiding spot in the crook of Y/N’s neck and laid a small peck on her lips, both girl humming in appreciation when both their bodies warmed instantly as a comforting, loving blanket wrapped over them.

"I missed your beautiful lips." Y/N murmured on Kate’s mouth after pulling away from another loving peck, before leaning right back to kiss Kate slowly and languidly. "You are so beautiful baby."

"Look who’s talking." Kate giggled cutely when Y/N bracketed her face and squished her cheeks, taking a few seconds to admire the adorable view before laying another gentle peck on her lips standing out from Y/N squishing her face. "I love you."

"I love you." Kate parroted with a toothy grin that Y/N was sure was outshining the sun and that was so contagious that she couldn’t help but mirror right away. They had never been so happy.

"Where are Yelena and Cassie?" Kate asked curiously after sharing another cute and loving peck with Y/N, pulling away just a bit to give them the opportunity to talk freely. They stared intently and lovingly into their eyes for a few moments, nuzzling their noses from time to time and smiling sweetly at one another as soft giggles left their lips at how happy they both felt with one another before Kate kept going, "we lost them before dinner with the class. And as much as I love them and I love them staying here, I don’t want them to pop up out of nowhere while I’m spending quality time with my girlfriend. They tend to have a really bad timing and I don’t want to be rude or something like that if they pop out of nowhere. I just want to stay with you alone without any interruption or annoying kids wanting to play stupid games with their favorite teacher."

"Damn, someone is a bit annoyed. Upset. Irritated even." Y/N chuckled as she pushed a strand of black hair behind Kate’s ear when it fell on her face after she jutted her chin out petulantly. Kate then sighed loudly while leaning her cheek on Y/N’s palm, that stood still waiting near her face after pushing her strand of hair back to see if the archer would lean into her touch and smiling brightly as her stomach erupted in wild butterflies when Kate actually did that, before turning her head around and laying a soft kiss on Y/N’s palm’s skin, making both their stomaches flip over themselves at the cute, adorable and loving gesture of her kiss.

"I’m not, I swear."

"Well you just called your classmates annoying when they all love you so so much. Maybe just as much as I love you." Y/N smiled sweetly and tenderly down at Kate and pecked her lips quickly when she saw a bright grin took over the archer’s frown she had been having on since she stated Yelena and Cassie have a really bad timing and that her classmates are annoying, especially for wanting to play with Y/N. Even if it was something not every student would do since they were talking about playing with a teacher, Y/N was their favorite teacher, the whole school’s favorite teacher and despite everyone wanting to spend time with Y/N annoyed her because it takes her away from her alone time with Y/N, it actually warmed her heart, knowing Y/N being so loved by others.

"Ohw babe! Stop I’m blushing!" Kate giggled cutely when Y/N grinned back at her and peppered her face with tender kisses. "And y’know, they’re not annoying. It’s just that we spend very little time together together. Most of the time we have to act like we don’t know each other."

"I know how you feel babe. But we have a job. We just need to put up this act for a bit more. But just like you, I want to cherish every single moment we spend alone because I want to savor every aspect of being your girlfriend, babe."

"Me too, baby." Kate leaned over and kissed Y/N sweetly, her hands bracketing her face gently as she leaned her body more into Y/N’s one, completely pining her onto the door’s wooden surface. "As soon as we complete this mission, I will treat you to a real date. As much as I love our cozy dates in our house, I want to spoil you by taking you to fancy places and laugh at snotty people flaunting their money during my mother’s boring parties. Or stealing- or borrowing, like I like to call it, my mom’s private jet to take you to Paris or Rome and have the most romantic date ever there as we stroll down their streets, hands in hands." Kate explained as her eyes shined brightly with all the love she had for the Y/H/C girl and stared tenderly at her.

"Really?" Y/N felt tears prickle behind her Y/E/C pools, watching as Kate nodded gingerly with a sweet smile before leaning over to kiss her hard on her lips, "fuck- I love you so much."

"Just as much as I love you, baby."

"How about we change into our pajamas and cuddle on the bed?" Y/N suggested with a big smile after sharing another peck with Kate and watched as she mirrored her grin and nodded before laying another sweet and tender kiss on her lips, making both their stomaches erupt in wild butterflies as their heartbeats raced wildly into their ribcages. They enjoyed a bit more of the cozy bubble wrapped around them in their embrace for a bit more, hugging each other closer to just exist together and nuzzling their noses together gently as soft giggles left their kiss swollen lips and their chests filled with a giddy and happy feeling swirling around there. They had never been so happy with someone else and never felt so full and understood by someone else in their lives, "we can catch up on Only Murders In The Building as we just get cozy in that giant bed!"

"Oh yes! I need to know who is the killer! We are just a few episodes in the first season and I’m already completely absorbed in it!"

"Me too! Ugh and can we talk about those three idiots? I want them in my life to entertain me!" Y/N added as she pushed herself off the door when Kate disentangled her body from Y/N’s one and grabbed her hand to lead them towards their suitcases to grab their pajamas and changed in front one another.

"We already have them babe, their names are Yelena, America and Cassie." Kate pulled a joke as she slipped her jeans off and folded them neatly before placing them on the armchair on her left, "well we also have Kamala, Shuri and Peter." Kate snorted at her own joke and lifted her shirt up her body, leaving her in her underwear as she folded her clothes.

"You’re right babe, we are basically surrounded by idiots! Wait- does that makes us idiots too?" Y/N asked as she thought over her question and turned around after taking off her own pants and blouse, before gulping loudly and forgetting everything at once when she was met with the heavenly sight of Kate’s round, full, firm but soft ass in a pair of blue, lacy panties, now sticking out a bit more due to her bending over her suitcase to place her t-shirt on top of it.

"I don’t know, I guess? I mean I like to call us idiots whose care about each other. So yeah, we are idiots too. To some extent, at least." Kate turned around with a giggle as she was finished and gasped gently under her breath when she is met with Y/N’s hungry eyes staring at her ass before taking advantage of her turning around to sweep her them up and down her body and drinking her in slowly.

"You are a piece of art baby. The most beautiful masterpiece existing." Y/N spoke out after a few more seconds of ogling Kate’s body, before meeting her eyes and smiling lovingly at her, "sorry for interrupting you, go on."

"You didn’t interrupt me babe. You just gave me a boost of confidence. Damn!" Kate exclaimed with a wide grin as she walked over Y/N, placed her hands gently on her hips as Y/N circled her own hips and then pecked her lips tenderly. "And y’know, since we are talking about masterpieces, we need to talk about you then. My gorgeous baby." They shared another cute peck before putting their pajamas on and settling comfortably on the bed, Y/N immediately opening her arms and welcoming Kate that immediately slotted into them and cuddled her, both letting out hums of approval at the warmth surrounding them instantly.

"How was spending some time with your classmates?"

"Pretty good. Like I said they are not annoying. They are cool. I wish I had friends like them in high school, we have a lot of fun."

"Why? How were your friends like in high school?"

"Annoying and spoiled rotten." Kate stated plainly as she rolled her eyes, making Y/N laugh softly under her breath at her girlfriend’s gesture, before groaning and grunting loudly as she recalled her time spent with who she used to call ‘friends’ and shivered with a grimace before continuing, "they are like all rich people. They are always thinking about themselves and that’s what they always did and always will do. If you had a problem, they would have faked being interested in your problem for just a few seconds before disregarding you and your problems and start talking about their new highest score in polo or showing off their new ring or t-shirt that costed more than a giant apartment in Manhattan!"

"Uh ew, that’s disgusting!" Y/N grimaced alongside Kate as she shook her head disapprovingly.

"The same went with when talking about important charities where it was imperative donating to help people out. They just laughed me off saying they would have donated 100.000 dollars or so before telling me to shut up about the importance on donating and helping people out."

"Kate that’s awful!" Y/N admitted as she caressed her left cheek tenderly, "how did you put up with them?"

"I didn’t, most of the time. I usually spent my days doing archery or martial arts training. I only hung out with them when my mom forced me to go out and be a teenager." Kate admitted, looking into Y/N’s eyes as she played with a strand of hair and rolled it between her fingers. A few seconds of silence passed by them just exiting quietly before Kate’s gentle laugh stopped it.

"What?" Y/N smiled lovingly at Kate’s giggles and felt her eyes literally shine with love as she stared at the archer’s beautiful features adoringly.

"I was just thinking about them also being homophobic as fuck."

"Really?" Y/N asked with a bit of worry in her tone, not really wanting to know if Kate was bullied for being who she was by her shitty old friends, but listened nonetheless.

"Yeah. A lot of them, along with a lot of old rich people, always thought about being gay was just a phase or something that would not look good in the public eye-."

"Are we still in the 1800s?" Y/N interjected with a scoff as she rolled her eyes annoyingly, making Kate laugh gently before laying a soft peck on her lips and switching her frown back into a small grin, then pulling away and continuing her with train of thoughts.

"That’s what I always thought! Anyway, I was just lucky my mom always accepted me for who I was. I remember the day I came out to her. I was super stressed and I was ready to pass out. She obviously started to worry and when I just blurted out I was gay instead of my prepared speech, she simply smiled tenderly at me and told me ‘oh honey, I already knew that. I’m glad you finally found the courage to tell me.’"

"Oh my god! I love her!"

"I was shocked! I stared at her for like- a solid two minutes as she just smiled at me. Anyway, she always supported me and alway put everyone in their spot when they tried to denigrate gay people. But that’s not the point." Kate shook her head to get back on track on what she was trying to tell Y/N, "like I said, being gay wasn’t well seen by snotty, rich people and although my friends oddly accepted me, I had to endure more times than I could count them making really tacky jokes about gay people."

"Can I know their names so I can hunt them down and punch them in the faces one by one?" Y/N interjected once again with her blood boiling over at those assholes Kate called friends as she hugged Kate closer, making Kate chuckle under her breath at her request.

"Next time my mom will invite me to one of her charity events, we are going to attend it so you can punch them in the face while I will enjoy the show." Kate promised with a sweet tone and a bright smile, making Y/N mirror her grin, then pecking her lips lovingly before pulling away to keep going with her story and train of thoughts. "Anyway, those things never hurt me since the girls that made those bad jokes were the same girls I was fucking in their cars or beds when no one was home."

"Oh my god! Are you kidding?" Y/N widened her eyes in shock and slacked her jaw while opening her mouth in an ‘O’ shape as she wrapped her head around Kate’s statement, before laughing loudly in shocked amusement.

"Nope." Kate stated as she dragged the ‘p’ out with a wide, smug smile and a mischievous wiggle of her eyebrows before continuing, "all the time the boys joked about gays, stating that, and I quote, ‘lesbians didn’t know how to make a girl come’. And while all the girls I fucked laughed nervously with nods, I was just staying in the corner in silence, smirking smugly at them. They would always meet my eyes a brief second before avoiding my gaze distressed as they fidgeted in their spots uncomfortably."

"Babe that’s just hilarious! I would have payed to see their reactions."

"They were priceless, let me tell you. There was one time where one of they guys was bragging about licking a pussy and even if it was his first time, he vaunted he did an amazing job. I was just smiling brightly as I stared at the girl he ‘did an amazing job’ on avoiding my gaze. The same girl that called me as soon as he left and begged me to make her come since he couldn’t do it and just faked cumming." Kate puffed her chest out and tilted her chin up proudly as a wide grin settled on her features, watching Y/N gasp in shock as she slapped her shoulder repeatedly in disbelief.

"Oh my god!"

"Just to clarify those two weren’t together. They just had occasional sex. I do not stand cheating." Kate stated as she nuzzled their noses together, "anyway, the word spread faster than those girl’s legs when they were with me between the girls of the group and I soon found myself fucking them in their cars, in their beds, once even in one of the girl’s dad’s office."

"I didn’t know you were a womanizer Kate Bishop." Y/N teased Kate as she caressed her shoulder gently with her pointer finger and smirked widely when Kate scoffed and rolled her eyes in fake annoyance.

"I’m was not. I was just having fun. I had the opportunity to boost my confidence in my sex skills when they were screaming how good I was making them feel while also relieving some stress from college and competitions with sex. Killing two birds with one stone."

"Hm, now I’m jealous Miss Bishop." Y/N teased as she leaned over and nibbled on Kate’s soft, plump bottom lip before biting down on it gently and taking advantage of Kate’s lips parting to release a small moan at her gesture to slip her tongue past them and lick her mouth’s every nook and cranny.

"It happened like 5 years ago babe. And it was just meaningless sex. You don’t need to worry."

"Well I’m still jealous. I want you all to myself."

"And you have me all to yourself. My heart, my body and my mind are yours baby. All yours." Kate reassured Y/N on her lips before pecking them repeatedly and making Y/N giggle lovingly into her mouth.

"Just like my mind, my body and my heart are yours baby."

"Good morning class!"

"Good morning Miss. Williams!" The whole class greeted Y/N in an happy choir and chuckled when Kate just grunted at her in response.

"It seems like Laura isn’t a morning person." Y/N noted out loud, making the whole class laugh heartily at her joke.

"Nope, I hate getting up early. I just want to sleep until noon, is that too much to ask?" The entire class nodded with a few sounds of agreement and Y/N rolled her eyes fondly at them with a small shake of her head.

"You would loose the aquarium if you sleep until noon."

"And we don’t want that, do we Miss Williams?" Y/N closed her eyes when an hand landed forcefully on her shoulder and what she clearly knew was a fake American accent reached her ears.

"No of course not."

"Are you joining us Miss Chloe and Miss Emma?" Amy asked gently as she eyed the two under cover Avengers enthusiastically.

"Oh please we’re not some old, boring teachers like Miss Williams here. You can call us just Chloe and Emma." Yelena told the teens as she stared at them with wide and eager eyes.

"Oh please, you’re more boring than every boring teacher." Y/N scoffed with a roll of her eyes, making everyone else laugh at her gesture as Yelena just smirked at her, "besides not all teachers are boring. I’m not, right guys?"

"Don’t try to corrupt them with that annoying happy face." Yelena place her hand on Y/N’s face and pushed forcefully like she liked to do all the time to mess with her, making her stumble a bit before regarding the teenagers staring at them in amusement with a grin, "it’s okay guys you can tell the truth."

"Stop harassing them and especially me!" Y/N huffed out as she pushed Yelena’s hand away from her face, staring at her down with an hard gaze before a big, bright grin appeared on her features when Yelena quickly placed her hand back on Y/N’s face and pushed her once more to stress Y/N’s words some more and chuckled alongside her, Cassie, Kate and the whole class, minus Mr. Wright that was nowhere to be found, maybe already inside making his own tour without waiting for everyone else, at the two best friends’ banter. Everyone noticed how the two of them seemed so close and that they loved each other truly, something that was really difficult to find nowadays. They shared a really deep, strong bond that everyone, especially the teens looking intently at their banter were really eager to also have in their lives. Kate stared at her girlfriend and her best friend joke around like they were two siblings warmed her heart to no end and smiled at her tenderly when the girl met her gaze after getting rid of Yelena’s hand again and mirrored her grin before dodging Yelena’s hand and pushing her away when she tried to attack her again. The archer really wanted to join their banter and when she noticed Cassie wanted that too, she nodded at her to give a silent permission and to give her a free pass to join the two best friends joking around childishly to make their banter ten times funnier than it already was. So Cassie nodded at Kate back and walked towards them two girls still fooling around before joining Yelena’s side and pushing Y/N on her left shoulder as Yelena pushed Y/N on her right shoulder, making Y/N widen her eyes in shock as she opened her mouth in an ‘O’ shape in bewilderment, making Kate wish ever more to join the banter in that moment. "You. Didn’t."

"Oh I did. And we can all confirm your face was priceless, right guys?" Cassie asked in amusement as she swept her gaze all over the teen’s eyes and watched as mirth dusted over their features as they tried to prevent laughs to leave their mouths.

"Oh no, don’t you guys dare to answer or as soon as we are back home I’ll make you guys write a 100.000 words essay about stimulating a vagina to make a woman reach her orgasm!" Y/N lifted a finger up in warning when she noticed a few guys and girls, Kate among them, opened their mouths to respond to Cassie’s question and although her threat made her students gulp in fear, it also only made Yelena and Cassie cackle loudly.

"I’ve never heard a threat being so funny!" Yelena laughed loudly as she patted Y/N’s back a few times before wiping away a tear that left her left eye.

"Yeah Lizzie, next time try to not include the world vagina in your threats. It makes them completely hilarious."

"Alright, thanks for the advice. Now let’s go or I’m filling out the form to leave you two here as new species in this aquarium." The class laughed loudly at her joke and Y/N smiled triumphantly as she moved to the front of the group of teens, followed by Yelena and Cassie, whose laid a sweet peck on Y/N’s cheeks, Cassie on the left one while Yelena on the right one, before hugging her tightly.

"Oh I have a really interesting fact about whales!" Yelena’s features lighted up like a Christmas tree when they were visiting whales’ section, making Y/N groan in frustration out loud.

"Please don’t." Y/N tried unsuccessfully to stop Yelena from speaking but the Russian pointedly ignored her and kept on, talking to the class waiting for her to speak eagerly.

"Did you know male whales have the largest penis in the whole animal kingdom?" Yelena smiled brightly in mischief as she wiggled her eyebrows lewdly, making the entire class laugh while Y/N groaned out again at her declaration.

"Great, now let them hear what the guide is saying."

"Oh please, I would be ten times better than her!" Yelena waved the blonde guide off as she explained facts about whales to the rest of the group they were in and Y/N rolled her eyes fondly at her.

"Oh really?" Y/N lifted her left eyebrow up inquisitively and watched Yelena expectantly and incredulously, "since when did you become an animal expert?"

"I didn’t, I just like to know sexual facts about anything really and to just annoy you with that." Yelena answered Y/N’s question with a nonchalant shrug and smirked widely at Y/N, who sighed out in fond exasperation.

"Great." Y/N smiled widely with a totally too sweet tone as she exclaimed her short, dry statement through her gritted teeth while clapping her hands not too loudly to not disturb the other aquarium’s visitors that were admiring the animals’ exhibition. She stared intently into Yelena’s eyes a bit longer, watching as her smile only grew bigger by the second and decided to let her share her ‘sexual facts’ about animals for hers and the whole class’ entertainment. Mr Wright wasn’t there so why not let Yelena entertain everyone with her witty comments and funny statements? She just wished she could use her real voice and Russian accent to make everything ten times better and funnier, "okay, go on. Enlighten us then."

"Okay, maybe we just want to move a bit further away from everyone else. I don’t want to gather an audience." Yelena just stretched her arms towards the far end on the left side of the room to stand there and turned towards everyone when they reached their designed spot, puffing her chest out a bit to make her look serious and gazing out at the kids staring back at her expectantly with a wide smirk, meeting Kate’s eyes for a brief second and seeing amusement and mirth in her ocean blue eyes, before focusing on someone else to not raise suspicion.

"Chlo she didn’t change at all. She is still so sure of herself." Y/N commented as she bumped her left shoulder on Cassie’s right one and heard the girl laugh loudly as she nodded in agreement.

"Let her be. We love her just as she is."

"I’m perfect just like this, idiots. Now shut up, I’m trying to have a lesson to share my knowledge with these amazing kids." Yelena punched both Y/N’s and Cassie’s shoulders before focusing her attention back on the class and stating right away, "male ducks have corkscrew-shaped penises."

"Fascinating." Y/N commented as she tried to lower her tone as she laughed while listening to Yelena deliver sexual facts about animals.

"Elephants have a prehensile penis that they can essentially use as a fifth leg. Their erected penis can weight as much as 30 kg and if you happen to touch it accidentally, it can twitch and knock you over."

"Okay, our needed break is over. Let’s continue with our visit." Y/N stopped Yelena as she opened her mouth to deliver yet another sexual fact about animals and ushered everyone else to move before smiling widely at Kate when she purposefully walked towards the back of the group to be as close to Y/N as they could be in public.

After sneaking into Mr Wright’s room to gain some informations about him and to tap his phone while Yelena and Cassie distracted him down the hall, Y/N and Kate slipped back into their room and collapsed on the bed exhausted with loud sighs. "Ugh, I’m so tired!"

"Me too baby." Y/N agreed as she cuddled into Kate’s arms and hummed in appreciation at the girl’s warmth and perfume wrapping around her like a comfortable blanket, making her feel fuzzy and cozy in an instant, "we’ve been walking around for three entire days for this school trip. I’m so sad tomorrow we’re going back home."

"Same babe. I liked it here and I really enjoyed Yelena and Cassie here too." Kate pouted adorably as she stared into Y/N’s eyes, making her let out an ‘aw’ at the cute sight in front of her before leaning over and pecking her lips tenderly, switching that pout into a big, bright smile that she instantly mirrored as her stomach flipped over itself at the sight of her adorable and cute, but also extremely hot, girlfriend.

"Yeah, me too. They are a pain in the ass most of the time, but we love them nonetheless." Y/N sighed out loud, agreeing with Kate’s words as she nuzzled their noses tenderly before pecking her lips repeatedly, then deepening the kiss with a deep hum when the archer slipped her tongue out to lick the Y/E/C girl’s seam’s lips to ask for entrance, Y/N granting it right after and both whined breathlessly into the kiss when their tongues met halfway and slid over each other greedily. They slowed their kisses down and pecked their lips repeatedly for a few more seconds before pulling reluctantly away from each other and went back to staring into each other’s eyes lovingly while their noses brushed together from time to time. "I really enjoy their company. They’re like family and them leaving to go on their own mission breaks my heart, but I’m positive this won’t be the last time they will join us here, trust me. As much as Maria makes it look like she is a tough badass, she has a big, soft heart and I know no one, not even her, hell I think not even Fury, can resist to Yelena’s pout! Add Cassie’s pout too into the mix and you will do everything they will ask you to do. So even if we will miss them a lot and we have to say goodbye to them tomorrow, I’m positive they will come back here to spend a few more days with us in the near future. I’ll give them less than two weeks and we will have them both here again. I’m betting my favorite leather jacket that America and Kamala will join them next time. And Peter too! Trust me."

"Oh that would be so cool!" Kate smiled brightly as she tapped on Y/N’s forearm excitedly as her eyes shined brightly with enthusiasm under the room’s lights, "I don’t know about you but watching Yelena and America bicker is almost as funny as watching Yelena and Cassie bicker."

"Oh please! Have you seen Yelena sparring with Peter? He gets on her nerves every time he uses his powers to dodge her punches and kicks." Y/N chuckled as she recalled all the times she witnessed that amazing and funny sight and shook her head gently.

"No! Why didn’t you invite me to watch such a wonderful show?!" Kate asked in fake indignation with a deep pout and smiled when Y/N chuckled under her breath and pecked her pouty lips tenderly.

"I’m sorry! As soon as we get back, I’ll prepare a fresh bowl of popcorn and we will enjoy the show together. You have to see the frustrated face and grunts Yelena emits every time Peter uses his powers."

"You are so beautiful my love." Kate spoke up out of nowhere when silence settled around them after Y/N and Kate chuckled some more, her eyes glued on the Y/E/C girl’s features as they took in Y/N’s beauty.

A dark, deep blush appeared on Y/N’s cheeks and neck and instantly detached her eyes from Kate’s mesmerizing ocean blue ones to look down at her hand playing with the archer’s shirt’s collar. "Thank you babe. But I’m not as much beautiful as you are."

"Hm, I don’t think so." Kate let out in a hum on Y/N’s lips before wrapping them on Y/N’s ones in a deep, sensual kiss, full of tongue and teeth, stirring a warmth in both girl’s stomaches as they enjoyed their closeness.

"I’m serious babe. You are beautiful, smart, cute, adorable, witty when necessary but most importantly kind hearted. I just- love you so much baby."

"I love you my beautiful, gorgeous love." Kate smiled tenderly and lovingly at Y/N as she nuzzled their noses cutely together and giggling alongside her at how happy and giddy they both felt in that moment. "Oh and by the way, do you know flattery won’t take you anywhere right?"

Y/N laughed at the knowing smirk Kate sent her way before dusting a lewd one on her own lips as she wiggled her eyebrows seductively and mischievously at the archer while her pointer finger moved down from Kate’s collarbone to her stomach, drawing teasing circles there over the black haired girl’s shirt. "Oh really? Ohw damn, I was hoping it would at least take me between your legs!"

Kate widened her eyes comically and gulped loudly at Y/N’s statement but it seems her brain lost her ability to function in that moment after those words reached her ears and she was able to only murmur out lowly, "oh."

"Too bad." Y/N shrugged as she kept on faking being sad about Kate’s question and sighed out loud dramatically for good measure, moving her hand up again to play around with Kate’s hair gently, "well, moving on-."

"No, wait!" Kate stopped Y/N mid-sentence before clearing her throat in embarrassment at her eagerness. "What were you going to say?"

"Oh no, you said flattery won’t take me anywhere and as much as I love listing your qualities, now I just want to cuddle."

"Y/N/N!" Kate whined in protest at Y/N’s stubbornness and clear teasing and slapped her stomach gently, making the Y/H/C girl laugh heartily at her.

"What?"

"You know what!" Kate stressed her words out and whined in frustration when Y/N’s laugh increased in volume, comically rolling her eyes after she stared pointedly into Y/N’s Y/E/C hues down but it only deepened the Y/H/C girl’s smile tenfold. She grunted out her disappointment and slapped her stomach once again softly, then laying her hand there on her abs and feeling it going up and down with each giggle Y/N emitted. "Keep going please. I want to know what you were going to say. I promise I won’t interrupt you and I will let you say what you wanted to say. I promise I will shut up. Now please continue."

"Are you sure?" Y/N asked in fake uncertainty, furrowing her eyebrows together and making Kate roll her eyes again, making Y/N’s grin spread back on her lips. "I mean, I can always tell you how beautiful you are. Or how hot you look during your early morning workout. But I don’t want to- y’know shift this loving bubble to a more sexual one since we are just cuddling and my words won’t take us anywhere."

"Ugh Y/N/N!" Kate leaned her forehead on the girl’s collarbone and slapped her stomach again, repeatedly this time, eliciting another fit of giggles from Y/N’s lips.

"I will just keep my words PG rating, I promise."

"No please." Kate asked in a rush to Y/N as she played with the collar of her shirt, her short, cut nails scraping the girl’s skin from time to time to tease Y/N a bit, eliciting a few goosebumps in the process and making Kate smile as she noticed she pulled the desired and yearned effect from Y/N, "okay, fine. I know you will keep this on forever if I don’t say it. I was kidding, okay? I was just teasing you a bit. Now please keep going. Especially the part about my early morning workout."

"Good." Y/N smiled and pressed an hard kiss on Kate’s lips before pulling away with a loud ‘pop’ and sneaking a hand behind Kate’s back to adjust themselves on their sides as she flushed their bodies together and entwined their legs, making them both sigh contentedly at their intoxicating proximity. "Okay well, like I was saying- you are always so fucking hot, but you don’t even know how heavenly it feels when you workout early in the morning and I watch you comfortably on the bed. Those wonderful thighs contracting with each squat and consequently giving me a great view of your amazing ass sticking out in those illegal tight yoga pants you wear, your mouthwatering tits wobbling after each small movement in that skimpy sport bra you wear and watching your abs- those fucking, marvelous abs that looks like they had been sculpted from the most precious and finest marble ever existed, contracting deliciously after each of the three thousands crunches you do."

"Fuck." Kate whispered under her breath as she panted heavily onto Y/N’s lips, both gravitating towards each other each passing second as the air thickened between them.

"Or how delicious you look when you change in front of me, especially when you get out of the shower."

"I actually change in front of you on purpose." Kate admitted shyly as she bit on her bottom lip to prevent her smirk to broaden while watching Y/N’s eyes darkening in an instant.

"Oh trust me, I do know that." Y/N admitted with a sultry tone before leaning over and biting on Kate’s bottom lip softly, eliciting a small whine from the archer in the process and setting both their bodies on fire, her own from that heavenly sound coming from her girlfriend while Kate’s body burned from the seductive gesture, "I just stare at you and your wonderful body as I hold myself back from jumping on you and fuck you senseless on every available surface. When you turn around I just pretend I wasn’t daydreaming about me fucking you, you fucking me, us fucking."

"Shit babe. Why do you hold yourself back every time?" Kate fisted Y/N’s shirt greedily and pulled her more into her body as she imperceptibly bucked her hips up to gain some friction on her now pulsating core.

"Because I don’t want to look like an horny teenager that can’t control herself every time. I don’t want to look desperate or just turned on all the time. But that’s just the effect you have on me babe."

"Oh Y/N/N." Kate sighed as she leaned their foreheads together, gripping Y/N’s shirt harder to keep her grounded while her arousal increased quickly between her legs, "you will never look desperate or horny to me. Ever. I pretty much feel just like you. I would spend every second fucking you if I could, but unfortunately we have to be ‘responsible’ and ‘have a job’-." Y/N giggled when Kate let go of her shirt to do quote marks with her hands and rolled her eyes to pretend to be annoyed by their job before settling her hand behind Y/N’s neck and caressed the skin there gently. "-but still, I would spend every single day worshiping you all day long."

"Hm, I wouldn’t be opposed to that." Y/N hummed lowly as her hands started caressing up and down Kate’s strong back steadily, feeling every bump of Kate’s defined muscles and shivering as she felt the muscles there stand up under her touch, "anyway, like I was saying- you look even hotter when you are sparring with someone else that isn’t me and I get to watch your wonderful body move gracefully around as you try to win the sparring session."

"I’m not gonna lie, I always put a lot more effort when I know you are watching me. I like to show off."

"I knew it!" Y/N exclaimed loudly before laughing alongside Kate at the archer’s admission before nuzzling their noses together. "I always had a feeling you were purposefully teasing me because every time I stopped by to watch your sparring session, you always seem ‘sweaty’ and have to pull your top off, leaving you in sports bra that always make my mouth water as I stare at your boobs."

"Oh yeah." Kate smiled mischievously as she recalled all the times she watched Y/N approach her during sparring sessions and tried to seduce her with pulling her shirt off or putting really tight yoga pants just to see her reaction and always reveling in her struggling to focus on the sparring session itself instead of her, "most of the times I wasn’t that sweaty to pull shirt off, but I did just to tease you."

"Hm, I wasn’t opposed to that." Y/N teasingly moved her hands up and under Kate’s shirt and bra to grasp her boobs teasingly, a mischievous grin on her lips.

"Oh." Kate moaned out loud when Y/N started massaging and kneading her boobs greedily without breaking their eye contact and instantly arched her back into Y/N’s wonderful touch.

"I was always daydreaming about touching your boobs while staring at them as you sparred with one of our friends." Y/N admitted as she never stopped her unrelenting movements on Kate’s boobs, pinching both her nipples just a moment when she felt them both stand up under her palms from her touch and basked in the wonderful screech of pleasure leaving Kate’s mouth, "I felt so dirty thinking about touching, licking, biting, sucking these wonderful boobs, thinking how they would feel under my mouth and my hands, if they were firm, if they were soft, if they were a combination of both. You don’t even know how many times I got mocked and teased for literally eye-fucking you in the middle of the Avengers Compound’s gym. Even Maria made fun of me!"

"Oh my god! That’s amazing!" Kate forgot about the incredible pleasure she was experiencing to start laughing heartily at Y/N’s statement, making Y/N stop her movements just a bit to admire how beautiful Kate looked as she laughed care-freely and her face contracted in pure happiness. "So did everyone know about you having feelings for me, except myself?"

"Well- pretty much, yes." Y/N giggled after pulling her hands out from Kate’s shirt and bracketed her face softly. "Like Yelena stated ‘I was too obvious to be subtle with my feelings’."

Kate laughed heartily at Y/N’s attempt to imitate Yelena as best as she could with a fake Russian accent while Y/N stared lovingly up at her as her heartbeat increased, warmth filled her chest and her stomach bursted with wild butterflies flying around. "That’s exactly what she told me many many times." Kate rolled her eyes as she thought over Yelena making fun of her, "she always told me I was stupid for keeping away my crush for you from you. Once, after she told me for the umpteenth time I needed to confess my feelings for you, I told her I didn’t have a crush on you. I enjoyed watching her face contort in confusion and shock for a few seconds before telling her I was in love with you. It was my first time admitting that out loud."

"I would have given anything to see her reacting to that."

"She stared at me like I was crazy for like- two seconds I think, before starting to make fun of me again."

"Oh yeah, that’s totally what Yelena would do."

"Do you want to know the worst part?" Y/N nodded as soon as Kate trailed off to ask her, trying with all herself to hold her smile in to stay serious.

"Yes."

"Hm, c’mere first."

"No, I want to know first."

"Nope, c’mere." Kate leaned over and tried to kiss Y/N once more but the Y/H/C girl teasingly pulled away with a big smirk and wiggled mischievously her eyebrows at her, mirth swirling through her Y/E/C eyes, making Kate sigh out loud desperately, "please, just one kiss. That’s all I ask. Then I will tell you everything you want to know. I just want to kiss you again. Please, please, please. Just one kiss. Please."

"Hm-hm nope." Y/N shook her head amusedly at the pout adorning Kate’s lips and at her adoringly pleading face and leaned a finger on her lips to stop her when she leaned over once again to try to kiss her again with a laugh. "I know how this will go. You just piqued my curiosity but you wanting a kiss will lead us to share more than a kiss and we will forget about this conversation. So tell me first, then you’ll have all the kisses you want."

"Hm, and what if I want more than just kisses?" Kate asked seductively as she hovered her lips teasingly over Y/N’s ones and waited patiently for her answer, that arrived a few moments later after Y/N looked down at her lips hungrily, licked her own lips and panted on Kate's mouth a few seconds without answering Kate’s question.

"Well, it will all depend on what you will tell me and how much more turned on it will make me." Y/N countered back just as seductively with a low, hoarse tone before biting down on Kate’s bottom lip and dragged it back before releasing it, eliciting a wonderful, raspy groan from the black haired girl that looked like she was ready to jump on Y/N and fuck her senselessly - she truly hoped it will happen, she just wanted to hear what Kate had to say first -.

"The worst part was that, that same day, after admitting out loud I was in love with you, she walked in on me masturbating and moaning your name out." Kate admitted after a few seconds of silence and blushed furiously as she remembered that moment.

"Oh my god, are you serious?" Y/N laughed heartily at that and clapped her hands in amusement, while her head leaned back to continue to giggle loudly in entertainment.

"Yeah. She teased me about that to no end, she still do it sometimes."

"Well to make you feel better, she once found a love letter I stupidly wrote for you and teased me about that from that moment on to no end. Every occasion was good enough to tease me about that. Me staring at you, you jokingly flirting with me while I melted on the floor, us sparring, us falling asleep cuddled on the couch after our weekly movie marathon. Every. Single. Occasion."

"Oh my god! It’s not stupid! Can I read that?"

"Yes, of course. It was obviously meant for you but I couldn’t find the courage to slip it under your bedroom door."

"Oh babe, you could’ve done it and we would have been together since then. Fuck, you don’t even know how emotional it makes me feel just knowing you wrote me a love letter. I can’t immagine how I’ll feel when I’ll read it."

"It’s just full of me gushing about you and how much I love you. Nothing you’ve never heard about."

"And fuck, it also made me so turned on." Kate admitted in a low tone after both stayed in silence for a few seconds, feeling her core clench in need for Y/N’s touch.

"Not as much as knowing, again, you touched yourself thinking about me."

"Ugh, which leads us to the fact that we both got teased by Yelena." Kate whined in distress as she thought over Yelena’s teasing, "you got teased for a loving gesture at the least. I had to endure Yelena imitating my moans all the time just because I couldn’t wait for everyone to go to sleep and I had to touch myself because I was too turned on to function."

"Why? What happened that day?"

"It was a Friday night and we were having a small celebrating party after Peter’s and America’s last successful mission. No one else was at the Avengers Compound except for us, Peter, America, Kamala, Shuri, Yelena, Wanda and Natasha. We were all pretty tipsy and at some point Peter suggested to play truth or dare with this new, great app."

"Oh yeah I remember that night."

"Do you also remember the last dare of the night before deciding to call it quits because everyone was just too drunk to keep going?"

"Not really, I was too much intoxicated myself, but I don’t know, I might remember it if you tell me."

"You got dared to give Wanda a one-minute lap dance." Kate simply stated, her eyes darkening as she remembered that moment like it was yesterday.

"Oh shit, now I remember it. We were laughing all the time while Natasha kept repeating ‘watch it Y/L/N’." Y/N tried to imitate Natasha’s voice through her giggles as she remembered that night too.

"Yeah, but you gave her a lap dance anyway. I couldn’t move my eyes away from you and your hips moving rhythmically to the music. As soon as we called it quits I flew to my room, discarded my pants and laid on the bed to touch myself while thinking about you giving me a lap dance. Just when I was about to come, Yelena barges in to ask me about something I clearly can’t exactly remember and watched me come with your name falling out of my mouth."

"Fuck- I would’ve given anything to be in Yelena’s place." Y/N stated dreamily as she felt her center beg for Kate’s attention.

"Just like I would’ve given anything to be in Wanda’s place." Kate admitted shyly as she bit on her bottom lip gently, staring at Y/N lustfully just as Y/N did.

"It can be arranged. As soon as we get back from this school trip, I will give you the best lap dance ever executed. But, on one condition." Y/N trailed off and smiled mischievously at Kate, waiting for her to urge her on continuing and smiling widely when Kate nodded impatiently as she gripped her hips once in pleading, "I get to be in Yelena’s position and watch you come with your fingers."

"Deal." Kate literally moaned out loud instead of answering normally, nodding eagerly at Y/N’s request. "Should we seal or deal with a kiss?" Kate asked mischievously with her eyebrow wiggling seductively after she regained all her cognitive functions, making Y/N laugh heartily at her girlfriend’s behavior.

"Alright, a promise is a promise. I promised you kisses after your story. And we also have to seal a deal. What better way to do that with a kiss? Or more, right?"

"I couldn’t agree more." Kate smiled brightly and moved a bit closer to Y/N, hovering her lips over Y/N’s inviting ones and licked her own instinctively when she felt them dry up from their proximity and for the electricity instantly charging up the air of the silent room and putting their bodies on fire.

"Well, what are we waiting for? C’mere."

"Wait." Kate stopped Y/N before she could close the gap between them by pulling slightly away and suppressed the urge to kiss Y/N’s pout away from her alluring lips by just bracketing her face softly and squeezing her cheeks gently, making Y/N switch her pout to a wonderful, bright smile and mirrored it with a just as happy grin, before moving closer again and nuzzled their noses together cutely, making both their stomaches erupt in wild butterflies flying around like crazy, "do you think we can, y’know, have sex here or do you think it’s too dangerous that someone could walk in on us or maybe hear us? I really want you right now, with our confessions and all of that, but I don’t want to risk our covers to blow up just because I was too much horny for you to think properly about our actions and about our actual jobs here. We are professionals but we are also together and, y’know, we have both needs and- and I really want to touch you right now, I really want to make you come over and over again on my fingers while you moan out my name. Of course we will try to keep it as quiet as we can but y’know what I mean. I want to lick you clean, drink your amazing juices up until you don’t have any other drop of cum into your body. I want to taste those amazing boobs of yours, kiss all over your soft skin while leaving love marks all over you just to tell the world, to anyone who ever wanted you or ever will want you that you are mine. I want to feel you squirm under my hands while I tease you to no end just to hear you whine, pleading me to make you come on my tongue or on my fingers, or both. I want to watch your face contort in pure pleasure as I deliver to you the best orgasm you have ever had, I want to feel your walls squeeze my fingers and your legs wrap around my head. I want to feel your clit pulsate under my lips as I suck on it thoroughly to give it the attentions it needs. I just want you in every possible way. Fuck, I love you Y/N. I love you so much I don’t even know if words can express how much I love you. But I promise you, I will try everyday to express my love for you and make you feel loved as you should. I will try everything in my power to make you feel like the queen that you are. I- hold on- where was I?"

"Babe, that was so touching." Y/N giggled gently at Kate’s question as she felt her eyes sting with tears as they glazed over full of emotions she felt for the archer. "I always thought your ramblings were cute but fuck, hearing you ramble about how you want me, how you want to fuck me, holy shit it made me feel so many things and I am so wet for you. But then you kept rambling about how much you love me and shit, I feel so overwhelmed right now. I just- fuck I love you so much babe. You have no idea."

"C’mere." Kate pecked lovingly Y/N’s lips softly before pulling away to bump their noses together cutely, "can I fuck you now?"

Y/N laughed loudly to cover her hard blush and slapped Kate’s shoulder gently in the process, "such a gentlewoman."

"Sorry, let me rephrase that correctly. Can I fuck you now, please?"

[2/3]

382 notes · View notes

solarissun · 21 days

Text

We are never, ever getting back together.

afab!reader x aged up Clapton Davis

Summary: You moved houses and jobs just to get away from Mike after he abandoned you and your 6-year relationship. But, one day he shows up in the vacant apartment next to yours. You quickly make it your mission to make every night a living hell for him with the (unknowing) help of your old high school fling.

WC: 3.9k

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, enemies to lover, afab reader, p in v, fingering, hair pulling, porn with plot, no use of y/n, hard dom, unprotected (wrap it please), angst, exes, daydreamed violence, aged up character

A/N: I’ve never posted my writing before due to being insecure, but now that I discovered this fandom on Tumblr, I decided to suck it up and see where it goes! I’m sorry if this is bad, I wrote it at 3 am two nights in a row. I just had to write something before I forgot all my ideas. Enjoy!

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You hated him. You hated him so fucking much. All you wanted to do was watch him wear your hands around his neck like a necklace. And there he was, standing outside the vacant apartment beside yours, cardboard boxes surrounding him.

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You're running late to work, having slept through your alarm. You quickly hop out of bed, jump into the shower, and throw on whatever clean enough clothes are on your laundry pile.

As you run out your door, you pause, noticing the piles of boxes lining up the wall of the apartment next to yours. You smile, waiting for whoever it is to walk out. You honestly didn’t mind your previous neighbors. By all means, they weren’t the friendliest of people. They’d bang on your walls if you even played your music one digit too loud.

So, honestly, you couldn’t help but admit you were pretty happy when they moved out. As you eye the boxes that take up half the hall, you feel yourself getting excited.

After a few moments, you see him.

Your heart drops, and you feel your whole life falling apart in just one second. He turns to look at you, your eyes locked on each other. Both of you pause, not a word leaving your mouths.

Almost exactly 2 and a half years ago, the love of your life, the man you pictured spending the rest of your days with, left. He didn’t warn you, he didn’t even call. You came home, and all of his and his sister's belongings were completely cleared out of your apartment, gone without a trace. All he left you was a text. A single text.

“I found someone new, I’m sorry. I truly wish you the best. I hope someday you’ll forgive me.”

After a few months of rotting in your bed with mascara-stained pillows and tear-soaked bed sheets, you got tired of wasting away. You moved away to a new, cheaper apartment, not warning anyone of your departure. You wanted a fresh start. A new job, a new home. A new you. All you craved was a way to forget the past, and you were so close.

Except after 2 years, the past was standing in front of you, only a few feet away. Anger bubbles within you, the deep cuts he left when he abandoned you all of those years ago tearing open and filling with nothing but pure, burning hatred.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” You say, his face twisting.. into god knows what. You want to ask him so many questions. You want to get on your knees and beg him to tell you why he did what he did. At the same time, you want to sock him in his mouth. Instead of doing either, you turn on your heel, walking away as fast as you possibly can.

He doesn’t call after you, he doesn’t chase you. Instead, you hear the faint click of a door shutting behind you. Your anger turns to anguish as you hurry down the hallway, trying desperately to put as much distance between him and you before breaking down. You find a maintenance closet, slam it behind you, and sink to the floor. You sob until your throat is destroyed and your eyes are dry.

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All you can think about while you work is him. Are you grading your students' homework? Mike. You’re yelling at your class for being too Rowdy? Mike. He lives in your head the entire day, and no matter how hard you try, all you can think of is the look on his face when he saw you just a few hours ago.

The school day is finally over, but you dread going home. You wish you could curl up under your desk and live there for the next few decades. But you can’t, so you suck it up and drive back to your apartment.

You get to your door, fumbling with your keys as you quickly try and escape the hallway. You hear the door next to yours click open. You rest your head against your door in defeat. He walks by you quickly, not even glancing towards you. You clench your fists, swinging your door open as soon as you unlock it, slamming it so hard behind you the frame shakes.

You want to cry, just like you did before. But no tears spill. Your eyes don’t even water. All you feel is rage.

You decide right then and there, you're going to make him suffer for what he did to you. Besides, maybe if you truly make him miserable he’ll move back to wherever the hell he came from.

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Later that night, you start plotting different ways you can get him to pack up his shit and run away with his tail between his legs. You think of hundreds of possibilities ranging from glitter bombs in his mail to… Clapton. You shake the thought out of your head immediately. You can’t do that to him. He’d probably be down for anything, to be honest.

Despite that, you tuck the idea into the back of your head, writing it off as a last resort. You want to start with more petty things before immediately jumping to the most extreme idea your mind can muster.

You quickly form a short list in your head, smiling as you daydream the look on Mike's face as you go through each scenario. Around midnight, after you finish coming up with every possible insane revenge plot you can think of, you crawl into bed.

After tucking yourself in, you Bluetooth your phone to a speaker, turning it up. You play the most infuriating, mind-numbing song you can think of. It starts blasting out, the speaker shaking on your bedside table. You sigh, sinking into your pillow as you hear Mike’s old bed springs creak through the wall.

You sit there for what feels like hours, the same song looping repeatedly. He doesn't knock on the door. You don't even hear him speak, let alone breathe through the wall. You groan, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you realize it might be pointless.

Despite your failure on the first night, you continue to blast the same song night after night, all with the same result. After almost 3 nights of getting only a few hours of sleep, you give up. You have to step up your game if you want to get results.

A few weeks pass without you tormenting him. You want to make him feel safe. You want to make him feel like you realized it was all a waste of time. Well, you also waited a few weeks since that's how long it took for the prank package you ordered to come. Sure, the package was a bit pricey, but you decided it was worth it either way. As soon as the post office stops by your apartment, you snatch up the box, almost ripping it out of the poor mailman's hands.

You quickly customize it so Mike believes not only is it his mail, but that some random man from Florida sent it. At first, you had thought to sneak into his apartment and throw glitter over everything, just like you'd do back in high school. But, you need to be careful about how you go about this. Unless you want a lawsuit to land in your lap, you need at least some amount of deniability

After deciding it's perfect, you leave it directly in front of his door. He might think the placement of the box is a tad suspicious, but you rationalize it by telling yourself he’ll feel so special he’ll open it on the spot.

After a few hours, Mike comes home from what you assume is work. A part of you wonders why in the world he works on the weekends as well. You forget about the thought quickly as you flip open your phone, watching through the camera that comes with the box. You watch in anticipation as you hear the sound of tape tearing off of the cardboard. Your smile widens as you see Mike's face appear in the frame, peeking into the box.

After a few heartbeats green, blue, and pink glitter explodes directly into his face. He yelps, dropping the box immediately. As soon as the box thunks against the door, more glitter explodes out, covering his entire living room. You hear him groan through the wall, grumbling about how petty and childish you are.

You’re laughing way too hard to even care he knew it was you. Tears start streaming down your face, and you clutch your stomach as you try to breathe. You finally got him. You feel on top of the world as you look at the camera through blurry eyes. All you see is a beet-red Mike decked out in sparkles. You start laughing even harder as he flips off the camera before stomping on it, destroying the feed.

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Despite how his misery made you feel at first, you start to get a little less happy as the days pass by. He hasn’t talked to you about it and he hasn’t told anyone what went down, not even the landlord. A fraction of you begins to feel a little worried he might be planning. As you ponder the thought, you hear a knock on your door.

You creep over to the peephole, seeing no one standing at your door. You crack it open, worried Mike might be standing outside, waiting to ambush you. Instead of Mike standing around the corner with an airsoft gun, there's an Amazon package.

You smile, realizing exactly what it is. You ordered soundproof headphones so you could sleep while also torturing Mike. You quickly take it to your kitchen, tearing it open without a second thought.

What. The. Fuck.

Glitter sprays everywhere. Directly into your eyes, all over your dining table, all over the countertops. It even reaches the sink. You scream as you try and claw the glitter away from your face. As you stumble towards the sink, glitter continues to coat your entire kitchen.

This means war.

You immediately flip open your phone, not even bothering to clean the mass of glitter that’s coating your kitchen. You text the one person you know would do anything for you.

“I need you, Clapton.”

He found someone new? Well, so did you. And you’re going to do everything in your power to make sure he fucking knows.

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During your high school years, you and Mike became inseparable. It was the two of you against the world... Until Clapton Davis came along. The three of you became the best of friends. You always knew Mike was jealous of Clapton and how much he captured your attention. Despite how you felt towards him while you were younger, you chose Mike. And he threw it all away for some random bitch.

So, now you’re choosing Clapton.

A month ago, you two decided to reconnect and reminisce about old times. You had him over a few times just to watch a few movies, but the most you’ve done is kiss. Every time he’d come over, you knew he wanted more. And he was getting exactly that.

You lay in bed, waiting for just the right time. Around 2 am, you smile to yourself as you faintly hear Mike shuffle into bed and sigh as he sinks into it. Thank god for the paper-thin walls. You reach over to your bedside table, squinting into the light. You flip to Clapton's contact and text, “Do you think you could come over right now?” You had originally told him to come over the next night, but it had to be at an ungodly hour, or it wouldn't be as satisfying. Almost immediately He texts you back, “Are you okay?”

“I just need to see you sooner.” He immediately texts back a thumbs up, and after a little over 10 minutes you hear a knock at your door. You unzip your hoodie, quickly making your way to the front of your apartment. You open the door and there he is. He clearly had just woken up, wearing a tank top and grey checkered pajama pants. A fraction of you feel bad for calling him over like this, but you push it aside and remember who’s sleeping just on the other side of your bedroom wall.

He raises his eyebrow, unsure of how to ask why you ‘needed him.’ You don’t give any explanation before you throw yourself at him. You wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him. He sucks in a breath, clearly confused. That confusion vanishes when you press yourself against him, pulling his waist against yours.

He wraps his arms around your waist, walking you into your apartment. He walks you backward, your back hitting the kitchen counter. You whimper as you feel him hoist your thigh up, holding it as his hip. Suddenly, he pulls away. Your eyes flutter open and you look up at him, your eyebrow furrowed. You sigh as you see him looking at your kitchen in utter confusion. “What in God's name happened?”

The kitchen is still completely decked out in glitter. The moonlight slithers its way through the window, illuminating the sparkles, making it look like a thousand stars splattered against the walls. You laugh a little, brushing it off. “Nothing Important.” He seems like he wants to say more, but as you grind your hips against his, he immediately forgets it. He groans, bending down to press his lips against your neck.

You tangle your hands through his hair as you feel his lips brush your neck. He starts sucking the skin below your pulse, making you whine into his ear. You gasp as you feel his teeth meet the plush skin, nipping at the sore spot. You slowly start grinding against him harder as his tongue swipes across the already numb skin. He groans against your neck, his breath hot against it.

His fingers slowly brush down your body, leaving goosebumps erupting on every inch he touches. His hand reaches your waistband, fiddling with the elastic. You whine against his shoulder as his fingers dip lower, rubbing your clit through the thin fabric. You slowly grind your hips against his finger, desperate for more friction. He picks you up by your thighs, his fingers digging into the skin. You wrap your legs tight around his waist, holding onto his neck. He quickly carries you to your bedroom, throwing you down as he reaches your bed. He lays you down, sliding next to you.

He presses his lips against yours again, this time wasting no time to dip his fingers into your panties, not even bothering to remove them. He drags his digits through your folds, circling your clit. “Shit, you’re already so wet.” He gasps out. His middle finger teases your entrance before slowly sliding in. He slowly pumps in and out of you, curling his fingers on the spongy parts inside of you, hitting all the right spots.

“You like that?” He asks, and you nod, unable to form a coherent sentence. You feel him add another finger and your walls clench around him. “Fuck!” You cry out, frantically grinding against the palm of his hand begging for more.

He adds a third finger, and you see stars. He pumps faster and faster, bringing you dangerously close to the edge. You just barely overplay your volume, remembering Mike. As soon as your legs begin to shake, he removes his fingers, ruining your orgasm and leaving you feeling empty. Your eyes flutter open and you stare at him, whimpering.

He slowly puts the fingers that were just inside you in his mouth, cleaning them off. You bite your lip as he blinks at you through his long eyelashes, savoring the taste. He smiles down at you once he’s done, sliding your zip-up off your shoulders. He slowly undresses you, a pile of clothes beginning to form on the floor. He leaves you in nothing but your panties. His breath hitches in his throat as he studies every curve of your body.

You do the same to him, helping him pull his shirt off his head. Your hands quickly fly down to his jeans, unbuttoning them and sliding them down to his ankles. His tight grey boxers leave little to the imagination as you see the outline of his hard-on, begging to be free. You do exactly that, pulling them off of him. His dick springs free, hitting his stomach.

Your eyes trail along every vein and detail, taking him in. He’s average, but somewhat girthy. The tip is hard and red, already leaking with pre-cum, slowly dripping down his shaft. You reach out, your thumb collecting it. You stare into his eyes as you suck it off of the pad, a bittersweet taste spreading across your tongue. As soon as your thumb pops out of your mouth, he grips onto your hips, pulling him on top of you. He slides your panties to the side and you moan feeling the cold air hit you. He slides his tip through your folds, collecting the wetness.

You slowly sink down onto him, gasping as his tip enters you. He grips your waist harder, holding you down. “You can take it.” He moans out. He slowly pushes himself in a little more, and you swear you hear him whimper. You cry out, laying down on his chest. “Shit!” He goes inch by inch, and you groan louder and louder as he fills you out.

He pushes in, faster this time, and you finally feel his hips meet yours. “You’re such- Shit! You’re such a good girl.” Suddenly, he grabs you harder by the waist, flipping you over. You gasp as your bare stomach meets the rough sheets of the bed. He grabs your hair, pulling you against his chest, somehow hitting so deep you see white.

You moan out his name louder and louder as each thrust inside of you quickens. He shoves you back down against the bed, thrusting so hard the headboard begins to slam against the wall. You smile into the sheets realizing the torture Mike must be going through right now. “You’re taking me so well…” He grumbles out, pushing deeper into you.

The smile is immediately wiped off your face as he moves one hand away from your hair and slithers it down to your clit. He rubs circles on it with 2 fingers. You grip your fingers into the bed sheets, screaming into the mattress. Your vision starts getting blurry as the knot in your stomach gets tighter and tighter. Pure euphoria tears through you as his fingers quicken as well as his hips.

“I’m close-“ He groans out as your walls clench around him. He rubs faster and faster circles on your clit and your legs start to shake uncontrollably. You scream louder and louder, and your walls start to spasm. Quickly you hurdle over the finish line, coming all over his dick. You feel tears running down your cheeks as you feel him release inside of you, his hips stuttering.

You call out his name one last time before he pulls out of you, lying down next to you. He looks over at you, tears spilling down your face and your fingers still bunched up in the bedsheets. He laughs as you give him a shaky smile.

“I’ve imagined that since grade 12..” He whispers out. He reaches towards you, brushing your hair that’s plastered to your face with sweat. “Me too..” You smile, moving forward to press your lips against his. He kisses you back, pulling you on top of him. He smiles up at you, his face flushed.

“Round two?”

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

Your eyes flutter open, the warm sun creeping through the blinds, bathing your room in a warm orange glow. You slowly reach next to you, feeling the muscles on Clapton's back. He stirs, turning onto his back. His eyes slowly open, and he slowly looks over at you. He stretches up, propping himself up on his elbows.

“I better go…” You get up as well, turning and placing your feet on the cold wood floors. You gather up his and your clothes from last night, handing them to him. After you're both dressed, you lead him to your front door. He opens it and steps out into the hallway, starting towards the elevator.

As soon as you hear Mike's door click open, you quickly grab Clapton's wrist, pulling him back towards you. You get on your toes, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him. He grabs your waist, pulling you against him. He slips his tongue in your mouth, his hand untangling your hair. After a few seconds, you pull away, resting your forehead on his.

“I’ll see you around?” He says, smiling. “Of course.” You grin, pecking his cheek. He unwraps himself from you, turns around, and walks away. He doesn’t even seem to notice his old best friend who is standing just a few feet away, watching.

Once Clapton’s out of sight, you turn to look at Mike. Oh, he looks absolutely wrecked. His curls are a tangled mess and the bags under his eyes are even deeper than you’ve ever seen them. He has the same look on his face you’ve seen him have when men would flirt with you on your dates. But, he also just looks.. sad. You expect him to turn back into his apartment and walk away but he speaks instead.

“The glitter wasn’t enough for you, huh?” You scoff, anger filling inside you at his audacity. “A girl can’t have fun?” He raises an eyebrow at you and a small smirk creeps onto his face. “You think I don’t know how purposeful that was? Do you have any respect for others?” You laugh, right in his face. His mouth twists into a nasty scowl, his stupid smirk wiping immediately off his face.

“Mike, I lost every bit of decency I had towards you when you abandoned me for some..” You don’t finish the sentence, instead letting his mind fill in the blank. He doesn’t look angry, he just looks disappointed. He looked at you like that when you were still together.

You’ve always hated that look.

He opens his mouth and closes it, clearly wanting to say something important but deciding against it. He shakes his head and turns back into his apartment, closing the door behind him softly.

You do the same, opening your door and sliding down with your back against it. You pull your knees up to your chest, rubbing the bruises on your sides that Clapton left. You rest your head on your knees and sigh.

“God, what am I doing?”

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

#smut #mike schmidt #jhutch #fanfic #enemies to lovers #clapton davis #clapton x reader #clapton smut #mike schimdt x reader #josh hutcherson x reader #clapton davis smut #light angst

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schrodingers-romy · 1 month

Text

Traces [Mitsuya Takashi x Reader]

Pairing: Mitsuya Takashi x GN!Reader

Summary: You give Takashi your favorite shirt to repair, and he realizes it smells of you...

Warnings: Male masturbation, fantasizing, scent kink (smelling clothing), it is mentioned that reader wears perfume, no gendered pronouns or anatomy used for reader

Word Count: ~1300

Notes: *rolls up four months late with an iced tea* yeah so I've had trouble finishing any of my wips. Somehow completely forgot I wrote this and found it in my drafts so. Have it ig. Mdni banner template from @/cafekitsune

[Ao3 Link]

Your favorite shirt had a tear in it.

You had come to Takashi nearly in tears about it; so of course, he immediately offered to repair it for you. The bright, grateful smile you gave him made him blush even now, hours later.

The sun had set long ago, and he had to wake for work in a few hours, but he wanted to fix your shirt as soon as possible. Just because you were his friend, nothing more. He would do this for any of his friends. You didn’t receive any special treatment from him. No matter how much Draken teased him about how he hovered over you like a doting boyfriend, there was nothing deeper than friendship between the two of you.

He strokes his fingers over the neat stitches of his patch. It is nearly invisible to the naked eye, but there was a slight change in texture over that area that was nearly unavoidable. Takashi hopes you don’t notice. He knows that one of your favorite things about this shirt is its softness, and he’d feel bad if his work impacted that.

He continues to run his hands over the fabric. It is soft, a softness that spoke of repeated wash and wear. He can’t help but let his mind wander to how such fabric would feel against your body…how such material would rub against your silken skin…

In a purely practical view, you see. Takashi was thinking of making you another shirt (just in case his patch job wasn’t good enough on this one), so it makes sense that he is so focused on your clothing, and how it feels. There’s nothing more to it than that.

Well, he finished the repair, so there was nothing left except to set the shirt aside to be returned to you in the morning. That should have been the cue for him to stand up from his desk and head to bed, but he instead lingers in his chair. Should he maybe wash it before he gives it back? It might be a good idea to at least see if his sewing will hold up in the washer, even though he’s confident it will. He wonders if you washed the shirt before you gave it to him; he doubts it. Would it be strange to hand back a dirty piece of clothing, even if it was given to him that way?

Before Takashi even thinks about what he’s doing, he brings the shirt up to his nose and takes a light sniff. He realizes as soon as he does it how utterly bizarre of an action it is, even under the guise of checking its cleanliness. But by then it’s too late.

The shirt smells like detergent, and perfume, and the faintest undertone of sweat; but most importantly, it smells like you. And with that thought comes a wave of heat low in his abdomen.

It’s the same scent he would smell if he ever leaned in close to you… close enough for you to feel his breath brushing against your skin. Close to you in the way he desperately wanted to be. Because beneath his insistence that the two of you were just friends, he longed for you. Draken was right, he was a doting boyfriend, just in his dreams. Because he was too much of a fucking coward to confess his feelings to you.

Takashi is painfully aware of how pathetic he is; instead of confessing his love (and his lust) for you, like a sane person would, he instead sat here in his room, alone, getting hard from sniffing your clothing like a fucking pervert.

And he is getting hard; his cock is swiftly turning from a half-chub into a full-blown stiffy. Just the barest lingering traces of your scent got him going faster than any porn could.

The shame he feels is muted by his arousal. God, this is such a violation, he thinks, as the hand not gripping onto your shirt drifts down to pop the button on his pants.

He has his nose fully buried in your collar now, right where the smell was most concentrated. His eyes flutter shut as he slips a hand into his pants to grip his bulge over his underwear.

As he slowly rubs himself, he lets his mind conjure up a dream scenario. He imagines you sitting in his lap. Your back is pressed against his chest, his hand around your waist clutching you tight to him and his face buried in your neck. He can smell your favorite perfume, and the barest edges of sweat beginning to glisten on your skin. He pictures himself licking it off of your throat. Takashi’s mouth opens, letting his tongue loll out slightly as if he truly could taste you.

He imagines that the two of you have your pants hiked down, just far enough for his rock-hard erection to slip between your legs. He wraps his hand around his already dripping length, letting out a soft hiss at the stimulation. Takashi begins to stroke faster, humping up into his own hand, envisioning that he was fucking up in between your thighs instead of into his own palm. God, he just knows your legs would be so soft, and perfect to fuck. He can picture it in his mind so vividly, almost to the point of feeling it; how your thighs would squeeze around him. How they would flex as he rubs his cock against your own arousal. How you would whine and moan, and how he would need to keep one arm secured over your waist before you buck off of his lap in your eagerness for more stimulation. Your sounds would echo around the room; he would muffle his own moans by biting the crook of your neck and leaving his marks there.

Takashi is nearly smothering himself in your shirt now; he feels as if he is bathing in your scent. He isn’t sure if it is a lack of oxygen from how he presses your clothes over his face or whether he is just that aroused, but either way, he’s nearly delirious with pleasure. His cock drips so much pre-come it makes every thrust into his hand it let out a wet, sloppy noise.

It only takes imagining you moaning his name and coming over your own stomach from his grinding dick for him to explode. He feels his orgasm flash across his entire body like electricity. His cock twitches in his hand, letting loose stream after stream of hot, thick cum. He continues to stroke himself, milking every last drop from his aching balls as he pictures painting your skin white with his release.

He is left empty-headed and gasping after his orgasm; it takes several minutes for him to regain basic human function, and it takes him even longer than that to notice that your shirt is now coated with his drool and come.

Well, now he definitely has to wash it before returning it to you.

Takashi’s guilt over what he had done hit him in full force in the morning. He honestly was tempted to just burn your shirt just so he wouldn’t have to think about what he had done with it. But he knew how much that shirt meant to you, and in the end, he didn’t have the heart to do anything except wash it. (Twice. Just in case.)

He couldn’t look you in the eye when he gave it back to you. He nearly combusted when you pulled him into a surprise hug. (And you smelled just like the shirt had, except more intense. It took all his willpower not to pop a boner right there in your arms).

You wore the shirt the next day. Any innocent enjoyment he could have experienced over your joy was tarnished by the memories of coming on the same fabric you wore so happily. (He was glad he was wearing baggy pants.)

God, he really needed to confess to you, because he couldn’t keep this up. He just hoped you returned his feelings…and he also hoped you would like to fulfill some of his fantasies…

#Romy can write #mitsuya takashi x reader #mitsuya x reader #mitsuya smut #mitsuya takashi #tokyo revengers #tokrev #tokrev x reader #tokrev smut #gender neutral reader

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gimmeurtmi · 1 year

Text

backstage — lee know

pairing: lee minho x fem!reader

tags: established relationship, dom/sub dynamic, mc!lee know, fluff, smut!!!🔞

warnings: swearing, dom!minho, boyfriend!minho, minho shows off reader (in a non-sexual way), dirty talk, thigh riding, unprotected sex, finger sucking, exhibitionism as a fantasy and is talked about a lot, use of "good girl", "whore", "slut", some light degradation, praising, jewellery as consent signals, kink negotiations, lmk if i forgot any!

inspo: i saw too many gifset of lee know on music core. plus @lino-nyangi's posts about exhibitionist!minho

notes: i got carried away. again. let's just from now on always assume i'm gonna get carried away when it comes to minho. thanks. also i wrote this on my laptop so it's actually written normally lmao. this won't be consistent i'm sorry.

{ wc: 8676 }

A few weeks ago Minho promised you he’d take you with him to record MusicCore. You were a fan of the show before Minho joined it, and ever since he secured a job as an MC you begged him week after week to let you come with him.

Today was finally the day the stars aligned, and your schedule allowed you to come with him. Minho was very clear that you could only come if you were there to support him from the morning until he was done, something about how it would be unfair of you to leave him alone in the middle. So when you had some time off, and Minho was preparing to record, he surprised you with a lanyard attached to a card that said Full Access: Guest of Lee Min Ho on it.

You were gonna frame it after today.

So when you got up in the morning, thirty minutes before your alarm, you made sure to spend some extra time styling your hair and perfecting your makeup. It wasn’t like you were going there to impress anyone—but stepping into the studio of MusicCore felt like a fancy event, and you needed to dress accordingly.

Minho grumbled from behind you as he woke up—he only got home at three in the morning after practicing for his stage all night—searching for you next to him.

“Jagiya,” he mumbled, eyes still shut, “where are you?”

“I’m here, my love,” you announced from your chair in front of the vanity.

“C’mhere,” he mumbled, plopping his head back into his three pillows. You quickly followed his orders, crawling back into the bed, making sure not to touch the white pillows before you had a chance to set your foundation.

“What time is it?”

“Eight thirty,” you checked your phone quickly.

“Why did you leave me?” He whined, wrapping his arms around you.

“I couldn’t keep sleeping knowing where we’re going,” you grinned. Minho smiled softly, his eyes still closed.

“You’re excited?” He asked, unwilling to open his eyes just yet, knowing he had ten more minutes to stay in bed still.

“I’m so so excited! It’s gonna be such a good show, show, show!” You recited, causing Minho to chuckle at you.

It was then he opened his eyes finally, rubbing them slightly before he took a moment to look at you.

“Holy shit,” he let out after a few rapid blinks.

“What?”

“You’re gorgeous,” his grip on you tightened, pulling you closer.

“You didn’t know that before?” You asked, feigning offence at his shocked face.

“Of course I knew that,” he nudged his head into your shoulder, “it’s just a bit overwhelming seeing it first thing in the morning.”

“Well, you’re gonna be seeing this gorgeous face all day,” you smirked.

“I’m so lucky,” he concluded before kissing your neck softly. “We’re gonna walk up to every crew member there and make sure they know you’re my girlfriend.”

“Oh, yeah? You wanna show me off today?” You smirked at him.

Innocently, Minho mumbled a small ‘yes’ your way, unaware of the thoughts in your brain. It was too early to bring in such inappropriate thoughts to the conversation, but maybe you couldn’t help but think about that little thing you and Minho agreed upon a few months ago.

Neither of you liked the idea of doing anything inappropriate in public—but sometimes, when Minho talked to you, he’d mention things like that. And sometimes, it got you so horny he could get away with saying a lot of things.

To make sure both of you were comfortable with these kinds of things, you agreed on wearing certain things to let him know how you were feeling. When you wanted him to go hard, it was the red ring he bought you. When you wanted him to only praise you, it was the butterfly earrings you found at the old market place on your third date. And when you wanted him to mention these kind of things, play along to the fantasy that you two were going to do things in front of others, you wore the gold necklace he got you with a small M dangling off it.

Minho also knew you were completely happy with him ignoring those signs as well—as you both needed to want it for it to be enjoyable—so you knew you could wear it today even if he didn’t want to indulge you.

It sat beautifully above your collarbones and honestly, it brought the whole outfit together nicely. You might have to ask Minho to change the sign to a different necklace, as the more you looked at it the more you wanted to wear it every single day.

Minho didn’t comment on it, you weren’t sure he even noticed it, as he stepped out of the shower and started getting ready for his day. The pair of you had a quick breakfast, Minho making sure to kiss your lips when you were done, and then call a car to get you to the studio.

You squealed excitedly at him as you saw the studio coming into view—your previous thoughts from the morning forgotten as they were replaced by butterflies instead.

Minho was a very talented MC, you always told him that, and the reality of getting to see him record was finally starting to set.

“Thank you so much,” you said as your boyfriend laced your fingers together, walking you towards the entrance to the studio.

“Why are you thanking me?” He shrugged at you before smiling at the receptionist and offering her a small bow. You followed suit, watching as Minho signed in on the sheet and made small talk with her.

“Are you her?” She asked timidly, watching as you signed your name on the guest sheet.

You looked at Minho in question, unable to ignore the way his ears turned pink.

“The girlfriend,” she added, pointing at your interlocked hands.

“Oh, yeah,” you smiled, “I’m Y/N.”

The pair of you bowed at each other before she spoke up again, “Lee Know doesn’t stop talking about you. Every week he tells me something else sweet about you.”

“Does he?” You exclaimed, your eyebrows raising as Minho simply refused to look at your questioning gaze.

“You are very pretty,” she complimented. “I hope you two stay very happy.”

“Thank you,” you smiled widely at her. “Have a lovely day.”

“I’m never telling you anything again,” Minho joked at her, before he dragged the pair of you away and deeper into the studio.

“Min?” You questioned once you were alone, “since when do you talk about me?”

“What do you mean?” He said, adjusting his hair slightly to make sure his now red ears weren’t on display.

“No one has ever said something like that to me at JYP,” you point out. It wasn’t that Minho wasn’t affectionate towards you, you were showered with it, but never in front of people. You’ve met a lot of his colleagues and even stayed with him for a week during their world tour, and no one has ever reacted that way towards you before.

“She’s just very nice, is all,” he dismissed.

You nodded, dismissing it as well. You knew your boyfriend very well, and he was a private kind of person. You couldn’t imagine him walking up to reception in the morning and telling her all about you—it just didn’t seem like Minho. He was only that way with a select few people, so you assumed perhaps this colleague of his fell under that category, too.

It was probably nothing.

Minho explained what each room was as you walked past it, that one was Minju’s dressing room and that one was the wardrobe department and that one was the backup dancers room and that was a guest room. Then, after climbing a few stairs, you reached it.

The door had ‘Lee Know’ written across it with a blue star.

“And this is mine,” he smiled, opening the door before gesturing for you to go in first.

As you walked in, your hand fell from his as both your hands came up to hide your gasp.

“What is that?” You asked, referring to the huge vase full of flowers.

“I don’t know,” Minho said, walking up to it. “I didn’t put it here.”

You walked over to it, found a little card hanging off the yellow roses and opened it.

“Dear Y/N,” you read out loud, giving Minho a look. His eyebrows frowned heavily, and you knew that if he wrote it he would’ve just smirked instead. You kept reading. “We are so excited to meet you. We hope you enjoy your first day here. Kindly, Jinho and Mihi.”

“Oh my god,” Minho groaned, sitting down on the couch with a huff.

“Who are they?”

“The makeup artists,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “They stole my moment!”

“What moment?”

“Look behind the flowers,” he was whining, clearly unimpressed by the amount of attention you were getting. How did the makeup artists even know you were coming—and why were they excited to meet you?

You walked behind the flowers, far too big to see anything hidden behind them, and found a box there. You opened it to see inside a bag of your favourite snacks, a polariod camera, and Leebit. A small card sat next to it.

“Dear Y/N,” you read, chuckling out loud. “Thank you for coming today and I hope it’s as beautiful as you imagined it would be. Please cheer loudly for me when you see me on stage and take lots of pictures to remember it! I finally got you the Leebit you wanted, so you’ll blend in nicely with the rest of the Stays. I love you. Min.”

Minho’s face was in his hands, his ears still incredibly red.

“Baby,” you sighed, picking up the bunny plushie and holding him close to your chest. “This is so incredibly sweet.”

“You were supposed to see it later when I was busy and be moved by how amazing your boyfriend is,” he sighed.

“I am moved,” you made sure to tell him, making your way over to where he was sitting.

“The flowers are so much nicer though,” he complained, letting out a loud whine at the end of his sentence.

“The flowers are very nice, but only my amazing and considerate boyfriend could give me something like this.”

You leaned over to kiss his cheek, ignoring the urge to tease him about how warm his face was. “And I finally have my Leebit!”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, playing with the bunny’s tail, “I had to beg the merch team for it. They’re in very high demand.”

“I can imagine,” you chuckled. “Come on,” you urged him to stand up in front of the mirror with you, “we need to debut the polariod camera!”

You quickly unpacked the camera and pointed it at the reflection, telling your boyfriend to come over and join you.

Minho rolled his eyes at you but wasted no time in wrapping an arm around your waist and inching his head closer to you. With a cute smile on both your faces you snapped the picture, a happy dance following your movements as you waited for the photo to print.

“Thank you for this,” you said softly at him, “and thank you for bringing me and everything.”

“Anything for you,” he said sincerely, leaning down and kissing your lips softly. “Would you have enjoyed it more if the flowers were from me?”

You laughed at him, shaking your head as you waited for the picture to develop.

“You know I like your thoughtful gifts more than flowers. Flowers are nice, but you always think hard about what you buy me,” you smiled at him, kissing his cheek softly.

Minho nodded at that, pleased enough with your answer, before he walked over to his table and looked over the script sat there.

“I need to go over this,” he said, guesting at the pages in his hand. Minho warned you before you came that shooting involved a lot of work and he won’t have too much time to spend with you—but you were content with that. You had your phone with you and a book, you could entertain yourself without his help.

“Okay. Can I go find the makeup artists and thank them?”

“Sure,” Minho smiled, “call me if you get lost.”

You nodded at him, kissed his lips one last time, and grabbed your new camera and your plushie with you—ready to explore the halls where they filmed one of your favourite shows.

You remembered enough about Minho’s little tour to navigate without too much nervousness, quickly finding the door that said ‘makeup’ on it.

It was open, the sound of people talking coming from inside and you knocked lightly on the door.

“Hello,” you said politely, bowing to the strangers. “I’m looking for Jinho and Mihi.”

“Yes?” one of the women said, looking at you up and down. After a few moments her eyes settled on your face, taking in your hightlights and lipstick. “Your makeup is fantastic!”

“Thank you,” you smiled, knowing there was no bigger compliment than a professional admiring your work. “I just wanted to say thank you for the flowers and welcoming me today.”

Once you said those words, the woman looked at the bunny in your hand, and you could almost see the penny dropping in her mind.

“You’re Y/N!” You nodded. “Oh!”

The pair of them hugged you, smiling widely as they each introduced themselves to you.

“We’ve heard so much about you!” They chuckled, “every time Lee Know sits in that chair he does not stop talking about you. He’s either talking about that or we’re exchanging recipes.”

You laughed, imaging your boyfriend trying to explain his latest food experiement to the women in front of you.

However, you couldn’t just breeze past the fact he was sharing things with them, too. You knew his makeup artist in JYP was very close to him, too, as it was more than awkward to just sit in front of someone for twenty minutes without saying a thing—but she never said anything like that to you. Your nail tech knew all about Minho, but you were known for sharing things with people with ease. Minho was not.

“May I ask,” you dared, “what kind of things does he say?”

“Oh, nothing bad of course,” they thought to reassure you, “Lee Know is very protective of you it seems. He cares about you a lot.”

You smiled, “yeah, I care about him, too.”

The pair awwed in unison. “They’re too sweet!”

“It’s just… Minho doesn’t really talk about these things with a lot of people.”

They laughed at you, their eyebrows knitted together. “What do you mean?”

“Lee Know always brainstorms date ideas with us, and tells us about how well you’re doing at work! Congratulations on that promotion last month!”

You thanked them, a blush warm on your cheeks. “Really?”

“Oh, dear, I hope you don’t mind that he told us?” Jinho said, looking at her friend with slight concern on her forehead.

“Oh, no! Of course not!” You reassured. “It’s not that. It’s just, surprising, is all.”

They nodded at you. “He’s probably just more comfortable sharing romantic stories with us.”

They did have a point. You were sure it was much easier sharing stories with the makeup artists than with his crew members.

You thanked them one more time before suggesting to take a picture with them—using the camera your boyfriend bought you, and excused yourself.

You walked down the hallway trying to see if there was anything else to explore. You knew the canteen was on the opposite side of Minho’s room, so you slowly made your way there—making sure to take in as many details as possible.

You watched many behind the scenes features about the show and walking down the hallway you saw in them was like something out of a movie—stepping into a place you felt you already knew by heart. It was just the start of the day, there was so much more excitement to feel, but already you were overwhelmed by it.

You thought maybe grabbing a snack and a drink would make you feel better.

Once you arrived at the canteen you saw a few people sat around with coffees, some were reading over scripts, some were listening to music.

You ordered an iced drink and a pastry, paying for your order and smiling polietly and the man who worked at the canteen. His smile was very bright.

Everyone was so friendly, you noted, and even texted your friend as such when they asked how it was going so far.

Everyone in your circle knew how excited you were for today—so they all checked in to see you were still alive and didn’t die from happiness overload.

You sat down at the end of a very big table, not many other seats available, and started scrolling down your social media to occupy yourself.

“Can we sit here?” Someone asked.

You looked up to see a group of four boys with their meals. There wasn’t anywhere else for them to sit, and either way you didn’t mind. You nodded at them with a small smile.

Becoming very aware of the looks they were giving your bunny, you grabbed him and concealed him in your lap instead. You knew you looked like a fangirl carrying him around—and you didn’t mind in the slightest—but you didn’t want these strangers to ask you questions. You didn’t know who they were, and they clearly recognised what the plushie was meant to represent, and you could already see the horror scenario of you getting kicked out of the studio for being mistaken as a fan that sneaked their way in. You subconsciously checked your pass was still in your pocket.

The boys were, however, too immersed in their own conversation to even look your way.

That was until one of the boys got up and asked the group if they wanted anything, and then, he asked you the same thing.

“Oh, thank you. I’m fine,” you smiled, pointing at your still mostly full drink. He nodded.

“I think Tae-hyung was trying to flirt with you,” his friend helpfully supplied.

You chuckled at the angry look on his friend’s face before he walked away to get everyone’s orders.

“That’s no way to flirt with someone,” you joked back, trying to lighten up the awkwardness you were feeling. “That’s just being friendly.”

“And how do you flirt with someone?” The boy challenged with a smirk.

You laughed at him—he was doing good—but you couldn’t let him get his hopes up.

“I’d show you, but I’m taken,” your hand went down to your lap where Leebit was sitting safely, and you held onto him tightly.

At that the fourth boy, Tae, came back with the drinks, joining the conversation.

“Hear that, hyung? She’s taken,” one of the boys announced. He sighed dramatically, shaking his head at the news.

You chuckled at his dramatic reaction, enjoying the new relaxed atmosphere around the table.

Then the boys introduced themselves, informing you they danced on the show weekly.

“I’m actually a massive fan of the show, I thought I recognised your faces,” you said with a smile, knowing you saw the oldest boy in the group before.

“Really? Who’s your favourite MC then?” One of the boys teased, nudging his head in the direction of your lap—where they all knew the bunny was hiding.

“Is it obvious?” You joked, showing them your plushie, and then tapping your phone where a picture of Minho sat proudly. It was one of him on the show, holding his microphone with his name covered in glitter adoring it.

“I’m sorry to break it to you, but he’s also taken,” one of the dancers said. “And he’s whipped.”

“What?” You couldn’t help but ask.

“We probably shouldn’t say this, but every time we’re practising with him he has to stop around the same time to send his girlfriend a text. And he’ll talk about her a lot, too. So even if you were to ditch your partner for Lee Know—he would never leave his girlfriend.”

“I’ve never seen anyone that in love before,” one of them added, “she’s all he talks about.”

Your stomach crunched at their words. Who was this person everyone was talking about and since when did your boyfriend share so much about your relationship?

“What, uh, what does he say about her?”

“Are you one of the jealous fans?” The dancer made sure to ask. You quickly shook your head, making sure to let them know you were happy for him, and just curious to know more.

“Well, he talks a lot about what they do together. And how he wants to adopt a cat with her because she’ll be great at raising them.”

“Oh my god,” Tae chuckled, “remember when we were practising for his first stage and every time he got tired he looked at her picture?”

They laughed.

“He kept saying she’s better than caffeine.”

You slowly pressed a hand to your cheek trying to check just how warm your skin was. It was on fire. Your stomach was, too.

“That’s sweet,” you concluded, “I’m glad my idol is so happy.”

You knew you had to play the part now, as it would be far too awkward to let them know who you were now. So you just smiled instead.

“Well, I hope you get to enjoy the show today,” they said after you all finished your food. “We need to get going before we miss our schedule.”

“Of course,” you nodded, “good luck!”

So, the receptionist and the makeup artists were one thing. The dancers were a totally different thing. Since when was Minho like this? You thought you knew your boyfriend well, you thought he was only open about these things with his members and with his family, you didn’t think he just told everyone about you.

The staff at JYP definitely didn’t see you like any of the people around here did—and you couldn’t help but wonder why they knew so much about you.

You didn’t mind, of course, Minho was free to share what he wanted with who he wanted, but this was unexpected. You weren’t quite sure how to react to it all.

You pushed those thoughts to the side, instead asking your boyfriend if he wanted anything to eat and when he said no you made your way back to his dressing room.

You waited patiently as Minho read over his script a few more times, practising out loud in front of the mirror to monitor his facial expressions and his tone of voice.

Soon, a PA walked in and talked Minho over his schedule. First, he needed to go get his outfit on.

You followed him around, his hand never leaving yours, and sat quietly by him as they made sure the outfit sat comfortably around his body.

“You look really good,” you mumbled at him as the pair of you made your way to the makeup room.

He kissed the back of your hand in response.

Jinho and Mihi smiled at you as they saw your hands locked together, inviting Minho to sit down in one of the chairs.

The four of you talked about your day, how you were finding it around the studio, and if you met any interesting people yet.

“Oh, I met one of my favourite dancers on the show! I didn’t know his name until now but I recognised him as the dancer I focus on most of the time,” you answered politely.

Minho looked at you so fast you were worried his neck might snap.

“Your favourite what?” He gasped at you.

“His name is Tae, he said,” you answered.

“Tae?!” Minho nearly yelled. His face was forced back into its previous position by Jinho as she tried setting his foundation.

He didn’t seem as angry with a powder brush tapping around his face. But you knew you made the wrong move when he gave you the same look he did to his members when they made a mistake in the choreography. Only this time his jealous scowl was attached to it, too.

“Obviously, you’re my favourite dancer. But on the show you don’t dance a lot so he’s my favourite.”

Minho scoffed at that, causing both the artists to laugh at the interaction before they changed the subject to your work instead. You told them a bit about it, enjoying how attentive they were to your words and experiences.

When Minju entered the room to get herself ready, she gasped as she saw you.

“It’s so nice to meet you!” She bowed, and you followed her as you gave you that same sentiment back. The pair of you chatted away easily, excitement bubbling inside your stomach as you managed to speak so freely in front of her. You were a big fan of hers as well, having been part of the show for a while, and Minho even agreed to take a picture of the two of you together before Mihi insisted she needed to start working on the MC soon.

It was time for Minho to walk towards the soundstage, now that he was fully ready, and the pair of you made your way down there—hand never leaving his.

“You know, Tae also tried to flirt with me,” you decided to say, just to see your boyfriend’s reaction.

“Did he?” He let out, clenching his jaw visibly.

“Yeah, but then instead he told me all about how I’m like your caffeine.”

At that, Minho’s face changed from jealousy to pure embarrassment, and he was lucky it was then you reached the sound stage.

You forgot completely what you two were talking about as you saw the stage spread before you—you even jumped up and down twice.

“Min, this is so cool!” You exclaimed, “this is so fucking cool!”

Minho smiled at that, his eyes crinkling at your reaction. “Was it worth the wait?”

“This is so cool!” Is all you could say.

Minho wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pointing at different cameras and monitors and explaining what they were used for and when. You nodded at his words, listening carefully to everything he was saying.

Then it was time for him to start rehearsing, so you blew a kiss his way (as to not mess up his makeup) and clapped your hands in excitement. You had your camera at the ready too, snapping a few pictures of the set as you waited by the screens.

Jinho, who was monitoring the makeup on the screen, stood by you—helping you feel more at ease as the crew around the set watched as the three MCs rehearsed their lines.

After they rehearsed, and the dancers filmed one of their stages, it was time for a short break before the live stages were set to start. Minho got his makeup looked over before the pair of you were sent on your way back to his room.

You held onto his arm, your hand circling around his bicep as your other interlocked with his fingers. You kissed his shoulder lightly as you made your way down the hallway.

You passed the deep pink wall—the background of many pictures of your favourite idols—and so you stopped in your tracks.

“Min,” you started, but you didn’t even need to explain what you wanted before Minho grabbed the camera from your hand and gestured for you to stand against the pink backdrop.

After grabbing the small picture that printed out, Minho took out his phone and stood beside you—taking a selfie or four with you against the wall.

“Happy?” He asked as he handed you the now developed polariod. You nodded your head excitedly.

Minho chuckled at you, bringing a hand around your shoulder as he guided the pair of you back on your way towards his room.

Once you climbed up the stairs you reached your destination, sitting down on the couch by your boyfriend.

“So what’s happening now?” You asked, crossing your legs underneath your body.

“We have a few hours until we start. I usually just relax a bit before the crowd gets here and we do everything again but live.”

You nodded. “This is so cool.”

“You have mentioned,” Minho chuckled at you. He brought his hand to your hair, tucking a bit of it behind your ear.

“Can I ask you something?” Minho hummed in affirmation. “How come you share so much with the people who work here?”

“I don’t tell them anything private,” he promised you, “it’s just.. more relaxed around here. It’s hard talking about you with anyone who works at the company.”

“I don’t mind either way,” you assured him, “I just wasn’t expecting everybody to know me and tell me how much you love me.”

“Who told you that?” He questioned, his eyes averting to the plushie between your legs, avoiding your eyes again.

“Min, I think at this point I kinda know all that already,” you chuckled, amused by the way he was perfectly comfortable telling you he loved you, but suddnely now he was embaressed.

“I can be different here, I think,” he mused, “here I can be fun Lee Know who’s not cold and hard and if I said some of these things about you in the company they’ll think I’m being weird and--”

“—you’re not cold, Min,” you stopped him. He nodded. “But it’s nice being here,” you agreed, “everyone’s treating me like I’m famous or something.”

Minho grinned at you.

“So you’re enjoying yourself?”

“Yes,” you nodded, your smile reaching your eyes. “Thank you again.”

“What’s been your favourite part so far?” He asked, reaching for your hand and rubbing his thumb over the back of it.

“Well, I found the wall,” you said, reaching in to your pocket and grabbing all the polariods you took during the day, showing them off one by one to your boyfriend. “And I took pictures of the big stage! And I met Minju,” you smiled at the photo, “and of course my favourite part,” you found the picture you took of the monitor when it was focused on your boyfriend, “watching MC Lee Know in action.”

Minho laughed at that. You rarely called him by his stage name, and watching you get so excited about his side gig warmed his heart in ways he couldn’t quite explain.

He leaned forward, capturing your lips in a small kiss.

You ignored it all day—the thoughts probing inside your brain—but now that you were alone and kissing him, you couldn’t quite suppress it anymore.

The way he looked on stage, so happy and oh so stunning. His stage presence was always strong, always impossible to ignore, but on the stage you loved so much it was overwhelming you. The way he told just about everyone here how much he cared about you. The way he looked so confident in everything he did today. Even, the jealousy in his eyes when you dared call someone else your favourite dancer.

You were craving him.

So before Minho pulled away, you snaked your hands around his neck and pulled him closer. He moved his lips against yours softly, so softly you felt a lightness at the back of your eyes—as if the kiss was so strong it was dulling your other senses.

“Baby,” you whispered against his lips, tugging lightly on his hair.

“Yeah?” He asked, trying to pull away from your lips. In response, you climbed onto his lap and grabbed his jaw—pulling him even closer.

Minho responded instantly, sliding his tongue against your lips. You opened your mouth, your tongue finding his with familiar ease.

You could taste the makeup on his face, and you knew he could taste yours—but you didn’t care. All you could focus on was the feeling of his thighs underneath you, his hands around your hips, his lips on yours.

When you brought your hand to his chest, fingers reaching into his shirt, he finally pulled away.

His lips were swollen, he had lipstick around his cupid’s bow, and his eyes were glazed. It made you groan.

“What’s gotten into you?” He asked in a whisper.

“Nothing,” you shrugged, “you said we have some time to relax.”

You lean in closer, kissing underneath his jaw.

“Yeah, but we’re not alone,” he reminded you.

“We’re in your dressing room,” you countered, “we can lock the door.”

“Y/N, don’t forget yourself,” he warned you, “anyone can walk in here and need something.”

“They’ll knock,” you tried, rolling your hips against him. You could feel he was hard underneath you, you knew he wanted this, but Minho was very specific that when you two were outside of the house he wouldn’t do anything beyond kissing you. Even making out in a locked dressing room seemed like something very daring between the pair of you.

“What’s gotten into you?” He asked again with a chuckle.

“Seeing you on stage, Min,” you explained simply, bringing your hand down to the space where your bodies rested against each other.

“Calm down,” he said, grabbing your wrists and pulling your hands away, “you’ve seen me performing so many times before.”

“This is different,” you explained, rolling your hips again. Minho grunted at the contact, his grip on your wrist tightening.

“Regardless of that,” he started, tugging you away from him by your wrists when you tried to kiss him again, “we’re in public.”

“You could fuck me in front of that mirror though,” you said simply, looking at your reflection for a moment. Minho followed your line of sight, grinning at you through the mirror.

“Who are you and what have you done with my shy little girlfriend?” He asked, bringing his hand to your chin, forcing you to face him again.

He looked at your face, his eyes darkening slightly as he rubbed the lipstick stains away from your skin. His finger traced your jaw, your heart beat quickening at his actions, before his finger trailed down to your neck, your collarbone, and then rested on the M sat against your skin.

“Oh,” he let out in realisation. “When did you put this on?”

“In the morning,” you explained, swallowing slightly when you saw his expression change completely. “After you said you were gonna show me off to everyone.”

Minho cocked his head to the side, an impossibly attractive smirk on his still swollen lips.

“And then you saw I wasn’t kidding…” he filled in the blanks, his eyes still glued to the jewellery. “And now you’re horny.”

“I’m not the only one,” you argued, rolling your hips again. Minho grabbed you, stopping your movements completely.

“Yeah, but the difference is I have some self control,” he raised his eyebrows.

“Please, Min, you said yourself we have a few hours,” you whined lightly. “I’ll lock the door.”

“But if my baby’s in such a mood, surely I should open the door and ask everyone to come look at you.”

“Min,” you whined, trying to move in his grip. It was bad enough he wasn’t going to give you anything—it was straight up cruel for him to wind you up as well.

“Everyone’s heard a lot about you,” he kissed your jaw, “maybe today we should show them the parts I didn’t tell them?”

You groaned as he planted more kisses around your neck.

“Like how much of a slut my girl is,” he squeezed your hips.

“No,” you said, shaking your head, “not a slut.”

Minho looked up at you. You usually liked that name, telling him yourself it turned you on, so his eyebrows lifted up as he questioned you.

“Then what are you?” He asked softly.

“Your whore,” you corrected him, swallowing as you spoke.

You would’ve been embarrassed by the shock on Minho’s face—but it melted into a smirk just as quickly as he gasped.

“I see,” he nodded, his hands travelling down to your ass, “so you’re really in a mood.”

“Yes,” you confirmed.

“You can’t wait to get home?”

“No, I want you now,” you groaned. Minho grabbed your ass, hard, causing you to pulse around nothing.

“Get up,” he said, pushing you off his lap. You tried your best to hide your disappointment but stood up anyway. Before you could apologise for taking it too far—Minho walked to the door and locked it.

When he turned around you had to bite the smile on your face.

He walked over to you, kissing your forehead softly before he turned you around and wrapped his hands around your stomach. He walked the pair of you over to the mirror, kissing down your neck as he positioned you right in front of it.

“Like this? You want me to fuck you like this?” He asked, rubbing his crotch against your ass.

“Yeah,” you sighed, still in disbelief that Minho actually gave in to your request. He was a private person, but you guessed today you learned to see a different side of Minho from the moment you entered the studio.

“You’re gonna look at yourself while I push my dick inside you?”

“Yes,” you moaned, feeling him against your ass.

Minho started sucking on the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him with the hand still around your stomach. His other hand travelled up and down your sides—ghosting over your chest but never quite touching you there.

“And if I wanna take you like this?” He asked, spinning you around to face him. He pushed his crotch against yours, his erection teasing you against your jeans.

“Take me however you want, Min,” you moaned, rubbing yourself against him.

“You’re so fucking horny,” he chuckled dryly, wrapping his finger around the thin gold chain. “What got you this horny?”

“You,” you whispered.

“Don’t think I heard you,” Minho challenged. The rooms were all quite close together, and you knew if you said anything too loudly the people in the next room would hear you.

Minho was daring you.

“You got me this horny,” you said louder, swallowing loudly as warmth crept up your neck.

“You can’t do this,” he taunted, “you’re thinking with your pussy but we both know if I told you to moan loudly for me you wouldn’t. So why are you asking me to fuck you?”

“I’ll be quiet--”

“—but if I tell you to do something you need to do it,” Minho reminded you, “and do you really think you can take my punishment when you don’t moan loud enough for me?”

“I’ll do whatever you ask,” you nodded, jumping onto the counter you were pressed against and opening your legs wide.

Minho’s hand instantly grabbed your thighs and kneeded at your skin.

“That’s not my girl talking,” he said, kissing your cheek, “that’s your wet pussy talking for you.”

“Please,” you groaned, rolling your hips against the counter to feel something.

Minho looked down at your crotch, chuckling when he saw just how desperate you were in front of him.

“Or maybe you don’t even need me?” He questioned, grabbing the top of your thighs and rolling you against the counter again. “Is this enough for you?”

“No,” you begged, “I need more.”

“I’m not going to do anything,” he informed you, “we’re still in a very busy building and you can’t possibly be quiet.”

“You just asked me to be loud,” you groaned.

“I know,” Minho said, kissing you softly, “just wanted to see how far you’re willing to go for your boyfriend’s dick.”

At that, Minho walked away from you and picked up his script. He sat himself down on the couch, reading over his lines one more time in prepration.

“Minho,” you tried, but he simply shook his head at you.

“Not happening,” he dismissed.

“Minho,” you tried again, desperate for his attention. He kept his eyes solely on the pages in front of him.

“Calm down,” he advised.

“I’ll be quiet,” you tried.

“You know I’m gonna take that as a challenge,” he chuckled, “you being quiet means I’m not doing well.”

“Then I’ll be loud,” you offered.

At that, Minho looked up from his script over at you, his eyes dark as he leaned his head back. He looked at you for a few moments.

“What’s this about?” He questioned.

“I’m horny,” you said simply, shrugging your shoulders as you fiddled with your necklace.

“What’s it really about?” He offered you a second chance.

You jumped off the counter, walking over to him. You grabbed the script out of his hands, placed it on the couch beside him and climbed into his lap. You could tell Minho was holding himself back from placing his hands on you—instead they sat by his side.

“I’m proud of you, and you look stunning today, and I want everyone who already knows so much about me to hear how pretty I can moan for you.”

Minho licked his lips.

“I love being the person who gets fucked by Lee Know,” you added with a smirk, running your hands up and down his chest, until your reached his crotch.

Minho brought his hands to your hips, moving you against his thighs in an agonisingly slow rhythm.

“Maybe we should wait,” he offered, a raise in his brows, “we can go to the stage and I can fuck you in front of the cameras?”

“Fuck,” you let out, pushing against his thighs harder as you jolted from the friction.

“Is that what you want?”

You nodded quickly.

Minho grabbed your phone from beside him, checking the time. He smiled slightly at the new picture you set on your lockscreen—of him during his first time on the show.

He leaned up, grabbing your cheek as he brought your lips together.

“Tell me, whore,” he pulled away slightly, dragging you along his thigh faster, “when all those cameras are on you—are you gonna beg for my fingers or my cock?”

“Your cock,” you moaned, grabbing onto his shoulders.

“So everyone can see how you fall apart when my dick splits you in half?”

“Yes, Min, fuck,” you said, a rush running up and down your spine.

He leaned in, kissing you messily as you focused on riding against his thigh steadily.

“You better not make a fucking sound,” he warned against your lips, bringing a hand to his pants as he unbuttoned them. He pushed them down slightly, only enough to grab his dick out. He then unbuttoned your jeans, letting you manoeuvre for long enough to pull them down your legs.

“If I hear any sound outside we’re stopping,” he said firmly. You nodded.

Minho leaned up to kiss you softly, rubbing your shoulder. “You sure you’re okay with this?”

“Are you?”

“I’ll give you anything you want,” he smiled softly, “you just never wanted this before.”

“We’re alone, Min,” you assured him. “And I’ll tell you if I want to stop.”

He nodded before the pair of resumed your previous position, Minho nodding at you as you started sinking down on his dick.

“Fuck,” he let out, gasping softly as his head fell against the back of the couch. “Move when you’re ready.”

You nodded, moving up and down slowly as the pair of you groaned softly. Minho wrapped his arms around you, his fingers grazing against your bare thighs in comfort.

“Take your time,” he said sweetly. He kissed your cheek before he whispered down your ear, “the longer you take, the more likely someone is to come in here.”

You clenched around him.

“Maybe Tae will come to get me,” he kept going, smiling at the reaction he was getting—the wetness around his dick warm and so comforting, “he usually needs help with his dancing.”

“Really?” You chuckled, squeezing his shoulders as you upped your pace.

“Yeah, because I’m a better dancer than him,” Minho made sure to say, sighing as you clenched around him again.

“You think you fuck better than him, too?” You dared.

At that, Minho thrust up into you—causing you to swallow a moan before it escaped you.

“The only reason I’d let him watch you get fucked is so he can learn how to do it. And when I’m done with you he can try to make you cum,” he said through his teeth.

“Don’t think anyone can make me cum the way you do,” you said in between breaths.

“Right answer, whore,” he said, groaning as you clenched around him harder than before. “Fuck, stop that or I’ll be the one who’s too loud.”

At that you laughed, leaning up on your knees until only his tip was inside you—and then you sat all the way down, his dick reaching into the deeper parts of you.

Minho’s eyes fluttered shut as you repeated that action again and again and again, rendering Minho unable to move or even open his eyes.

“Where’d you go?” You asked, tapping his chin.

He grabbed your thighs, urging you to do it again.

“I’m trying to focus,” he let out, “you feel really fucking good.”

“I look good, too,” you smirked, “you’re missing out.”

Minho opened his eyes, blinking rapidly as he took in your features. You weren’t wrong. You looked amazing on top of him, controlling the pace, getting exactly what you wanted from him like you always did.

“It would be much better in front of the cameras,” he let out softly, “so they could capture how fucking beautiful you are riding my cock.”

You groaned.

“Quiet,” he warned you, burying his hand in your hair.

He pulled your face closer to his, kissing you messily, all tongue and gasps and teeth.

“Even if someone did knock right now I couldn’t stop,” you said quickly, “your dick is too fucking good.”

“It’s always yours,” he groaned, pushing you all the way down until he bottomed out. You rolled your hips, the pair of you gasping as he nudged your senstive spot again and again.

“I should take a picture of your pussy like this,” Minho said, tracing his hand around your clit teasingly. “So so full.”

You handed him the polariod camera instantly before you leaned back, bumping your hips up and down his dick.

Minho took the camera from you, unsure of what you wanted him to do with it. Nudes were not your thing, and although you were wearing that necklace today he didn’t think that meant he could just take a picture of you. Those were just words. But then, you did just hand it to him.

Before he could think about it too much you started moaning, finding the perfect angle as you sped up. Minho leaned forward, bringing a hand around your mouth to muffle your sounds.

“I said quiet, whore,” he said, kissing your neck as he felt your moans vibrating against his hand.

“Min,” you said, muffled, causing him to move his hand away.

“Yeah, baby?” He asked softly, grabbing your hand instead.

You leaned forward, hiding your head in his neck as you spoke. “Don’t like it when you cover my mouth.”

Minho nodded, squeezing your hand in agreement. “Can I put my fingers in your mouth instead then?”

You smiled at him, lifting your head from his neck and sticking your tongue out to him.

“Good girl,” he chuckled, bringing his index finger to your tongue. “And you’ve been so good today telling me exactly what you need.”

You started clenching at his praise, humming against his finger as he started meeting your thrusts from below. “You’ve been so so good with your words. And using our signals. I’m so proud of you, baby.”

You nodded, silently speeding up even more as you focused on sucking his fingers.

“Your pussy is so good, I’m gonna cum soon,” he warned with a grunt. At that he slid his fingers out of your mouth, moving them to your clit as he started rubbing it in fast circles.

You focused as much as you could on being quiet—letting your head fall on Minho’s shoulders as you felt him twitching inside you.

“Gonna cum,” you warned in a hushed whisper.

It was only a few moments later that your orgasm crashed into you—your mouth a perfect circle as you rode out your high in silence. As your walls clenched around him repeatedly, Minho came right after you, whimpering in between soft sighs.

You caught your breathes together, staying close as Minho planted small kisses on your shoulder. When you were ready to move, Minho rolled his pants further down his legs to avoid any mess on his outfit, and helped you stand up slowly.

You were lucky there was a shower in his room—and cleaned yourself off quickly. Once you were both dressed again, you sat down next to your boyfriend with a smile.

“Feel better now?” He asked with a smile, kissing your cheek.

Both of your faces were ruined, and you knew Minho would have to sit down to get his makeup redone. You had no idea how you’d get yours fixed without making it very very obvious why it got ruined in the first place.

Luckily, you remembered you packed some of your makeup with you this morning, and took it out in an attempt to fix both your faces.

Minho’s wasn’t too smudged, except for the colour around his mouth, but you managed to put enough translucent powder around it to make it presentable. The makeup artists could fix it for him.

Your mascara was gathered underneath your eyes, and Minho took a wipe from your makeup bag and cleaned it off softly.

“Thank you,” you said to him, taking a look at yourself in the mirror after he was done.

He nodded at you.

“You’re very quiet,” you observed, noticing the way Minho didn’t ask questions or say much like he usually did after sex.

Minho reached for your hand, locking your fingers together again. “Did you really want me to take a picture of you or was that just talk like most of it was?”

You pursed your lips together. “I’m—I’m not actually sure,” you admitted.

“I don’t want to take pictures of you,” Minho confessed. “I don’t want it getting into the wrong hand or for you to regret me having something like that.”

“That’s okay,” you agreed, nodding with a smile.

“I want to do everything you ask me to, but I couldn’t bring myself to take the picture and I’m sorry if that disappointed you or anything--”

“—Min, it didn’t. It was in the heat of the moment. Besides, your reason for not doing it is just to protect me, so it’s definitely okay.”

Minho nodded at that.

“And please never feel like you have to give me something just because I asked. You always say you can’t enjoy it if I’m not happy and that goes both ways,” you assured him.

Minho leaned forward to kiss you softly. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Lee Know,” you smirked.

He chuckled at you before burying his head in your hair as he hugged you tightly.

At that a thirty minute warning came on around the speakers, alerting everyone in the building to the time.

It was then time for Minho to go back to the makeup chair for any touch ups (which he definitely needed) and warm up his voice before the live stage started. You followed him around, clutching Leebit tightly as you smiled proudly at your boyfriend.

You cheered loudly like he asked you too—and at some point, you caught his eyes on you as the pair of you smiled at each other.

The crowd didn’t know you were his girlfriend, it was private, and the pair of you smiled at each other as you held onto that secret tightly.

#skz x reader #skz x y/n #skz x yn #stray kids fics #stray kids x reader #lee know x y/n #lee know x reader #lee know smut #lee know #lee minho smut #lee minho x y/n #lee minho x reader #minho x y/n #minho x reader #minho smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #all.works

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gloomysoup · 4 months

Text

i found a thing that i wrote months ago and forgot about so have a treat i guess :)

cw: domestic violence

Steve isn't exactly sure how it started. It could have been the dishes, or the laundry, or the host of other things Eddie has been avoiding that Steve has had to do himself. It wouldn't normally be a problem, but Steve was tired. He was stressed. He had been working long hours and the weight of his pregnancy had been dragging him down the last few weeks. So no, Steve isn't exactly sure what happened, how it started. All he knows is that they're arguing.

Eddie’s yelling. Steve’s voice cracks and breaks with every attempt to fight back. It's loud. It's heated. They're standing on the edge of a cliff, and someone is going to make the jump. Someone is going to tumble over the edge, and there's no coming back once they do. Steve knows that. He's seen the cliff his entire life. His parents were always standing at the edge. They willingly took the jump many times before. Steve’s life had always been situated right there on the cliff side, waiting for it to crumble out from under his feet. He thought he'd escaped when he found Eddie. He thought for sure that Eddie was safe. That he would build Steve a home far away from the cliff, on solid land. That Steve would never have to face the water again. And yet here they are.

They've been arguing for a while, voices raised and venom spat back and forth. They're aiming to hurt each other. Steve hates it, but he refuses to back down. The words are spilling from his mouth before he can even think about stopping them. It doesn't matter. Eddie shoots back just the same. They're dangling over the edge now. Steve knows it's only a matter of time before one of them snaps.

It's Eddie.

One second, Eddie is saying something about Steve’s family, his childhood. It settles in Steve’s brain as his husband thinking he won't be a good parent to their unborn child. He’s going to fuck it all up just like his parents did. So he shoots back just as harshly. Maybe more.

The words had barely left his mouth before Eddie’s palm was colliding with his cheek. A sharp smack echoed through the room as they both fell silent. Eddie looked completely shocked, like he hadn't expected to do that. Like he didn't know he ever would. Steve should have known. He should have known nothing would ever be different. He was destined to fall into the same patterns as his parents.

Steve swallowed hard and nodded his head. “Okay,” he whispered before turning his back and walking away. He shut himself in the bathroom, locking the door behind him. His reflection in the mirror was almost a spitting image of his mother. His face was flushed, eyes red with the effort of holding back his tears. Eddie’s hand was imprinted on his cheek in a bright red mark. His hands were shaking. The room was closing in on him and he couldn't breathe. He couldn't stay here right now. He needed to get out.

There was a soft knock on the door.

“Steve? Baby? I'm sorry. I- I don't know what got into me. I didn't mean to- I never wanted to hurt you, honey, please. Please open the door. I'm so sorry.”

Steve didn't answer. He couldn't. His ears were ringing. It sounded like the same empty apologies his father always gave every time he laid his hands on Steve’s mother. Deep down, part of Steve knew Eddie was nothing like his father. This was not the same thing. Eddie was different.

But there was a mark on his cheek and the sting of his hand lingering there.

He loved Eddie, and he wanted to believe him, but he had a baby to think about. This small being was still inside him, vulnerable to the outside world. He couldn't take that risk. He wouldn't. He needed to get out.

He opened the door and slipped past Eddie, who had tears running down his bright red cheeks. They were flushed from anger. Not from pain like Steve’s.

He reached for Steve. “Baby-”

“Don't,” Steve whispered, shaking his head and holding up his hand to stop Eddie from touching him.

“Baby, please. I'm so sorry. I- I never wanted to hurt you, I swear. I don't know why I did that. I'm sorry. Please.”

Steve shook his head and made his way down the hall to their bedroom. He grabbed a duffel bag from the closet and started filling it with clothes. Eddie followed him in, but kept some distance.

“Where are you going?” Eddie's voice shook, breaking as he watched Steve pack his things.

“I can't be here right now.” He shoved another handful of clothes haphazardly into the bag. “I'm sorry, Eddie. I need to be somewhere else.”

“Stevie, please don't do this. I'm sorry. I am so fucking sorry. I swear I'm never going to do anything like that ever again. Please.”

Steve shook his head and zipped up the bag. “I want to believe you.”

“But you don't?”

“I can't. With the baby-” He looked up at Eddie, the tears finally rolling down his cheeks. “I just need some space.”

Eddie stepped forward, reaching his hands out. Steve took a step back, and Eddie froze. His arms dropped to his side. He took a shuddering breath.

“I'm sorry,” Steve whispered before leaving the bedroom. Eddie followed him to the door, standing in the middle of the living room.

“Are you coming back?”

“I don't know.”

“Do I get to know anything?”

“I think it's best if you don't.”

“This is what you need?”

Steve sighed and shook his head. “I can't be here right now, Eddie. I love you, but I won't feel safe if I stay. My mom always stayed.”

Eddie swallowed around the lump in his throat. He nodded slowly. “Okay. I understand. Just- please just let me know you're safe, wherever you go. I need to know you're safe, Steve.”

Steve nodded, his hand on the doorknob. “I will. I promise.”

“I love you. Please don't forget that. I love you so much, and I'm so fucking sorry for what I did.”

“I know. I'm sorry too.”

He left. The door closed with a soft click behind him. He choked down a sob as he made his way down the path to the driveway. He got in his car, throwing the duffle in the passenger seat and starting the engine. He could barely see through the tears as he backed out of the driveway and took off down the road. He broke into painful sobs as he turned the corner, and their house disappeared.

it could be something. idk. is this something? i wrote it on a whim forever ago. it could be omegaverse, it could be trans steve, who knows 🤷‍♀️ i never thought that far ahead tbh. again, it was a whim. if it's something, maybe i'll continue it who knows. anyway, happy tuesday/wednesday guys :D

#there would be a happy ending... eventually #gloomysoup writing #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie fic #omegaverse steddie #trans steve harrington #stranger things fic #steve stranger things #eddie stranger things #steddie angst #steddie au

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stellisketches · 6 months

Text

Random MCD Headcanons that have nothing to do with anything (Part 5???)

Sorry I haven't made any real posts in forever. My drawing phone broke and college has been a bitch so i haven't really gotten the chance to make anything (though I finally made some more progress on the next chapter of my rewrite). In any case, please accept this next installment of head canons I wrote like 10 months ago and completely forgot about in lieu of anything that requires actual talent. Love y'all:

Laurance lost an incisor tooth in a fistfight when he was 19

When he got turned into a shadowknight it grew back, now he purposefully goes out of his way to loose teeth just cause he knows he can grow back an unlimited supply

Hayden has a cat named Bog Butter. He’s the color of butter and he found him in the bog.

Vylad’s favorite vegetable is avocado

There are three major guard academies in Ru’aun: one in O’Khasis, one in Scaleswind, and one in Bright Port.

Bright Port’s is the largest and most well known

O’Khasis’ is the most prestigious

Scaleswind’s academy is the most difficult

The bare minimum age to join is 14, though most people join between 16-19

Every guard must have a minimum of 2 years training to earn the actual title of Guard, however to serve in O’Khasis you need a minimum of 4 and for Scaleswind a minimum of 5.

Part of that training includes apprenticeship, so they do get some in-field experience with their mentors (think unpaid intern)

Technically you can train for up to 8 years, however most people only train for 2-5.

Garroth was in academy for 3-4 (although to be fair he had been trained in sword fighting since he was like 9)

Laurance went for 5 years and Dante went for 6 ½

Dante lied about his age when he enlisted though

He was barely thirteen

Both went to the Bright Port Academy however they were in different divisions at different times since Dante is younger, so they really only saw each other in passing and never actually talked to one another

The only personal interaction they ever had was one time at the academy Laurance was trying to get back to his dorm after a night of copious drinking and partying and could barely walk out the front door of the bar. Dante (who was pretty tipsy himself) ended up half-carrying back to Laurance’s dorm before going back to his own. Neither of them remember this.

Katelyn’s two older brothers’ names are Kaj and Khareem

Khareem is the oldest, then Kaj, then Katelyn, then Kacey

Occasionally, when he is absolutely, positively, 100% sure he is alone, Zane will sing to himself sometimes

Dante once did a Zane impression in front of everyone and Garroth got so freaked out by how realistic it sounded he made Dante swear he’d never do that voice around him again.

The worst argument Kenmur and Emmalyn ever had during their marriage was whether their system was heliocentric or geocentric (Kenmur argued the former and Emmalyn argued the latter)

In most colleges across Ru’Aun, there is usually some statue of Enki that students will leave offerings to before their big exams

Offerings vary, but it’s usually something like food, money, trinkets, or paper. It varies on how important the exam/how desperate the students are

Kenmur went to one of these colleges for a few years

One time he fell asleep the night before his final exam and he woke up like an hour before his exam was supposed to take place and in a fit of panic he dumped his entire wallet in front of the statue. He passed with flying colors.

One time at the Narhakan college someone left a life-sized horse statue made out of gold. No one has any idea where it came from or who left it. It’s become kind of an urban legend among all the colleges

Zenix never learned how to read and by god he isn’t about to wimp out now

Garroth tried to teach him once and it… did not go well

Let’s just say Garroth still owes Emmalyn a book from that incident. And a new table.

Zianna came from the same region that Esmund was native to

Katelyn absolutely despises the feeling of sand in her shoes

Dmitri and Nekoette raided the Bright Port guard academy kitchen the first night they got sworn in

Dmitri also had to go to the infirmary after getting shot in the arm by one of Nekoette’s loose arrows

Laurance can play the piano and used to play it at some of the taverns in Meteli

Levin and Malachi both know a good bit of Elvish thanks to spending so much time in Yggdrasil

They switch to Elvish for the majority of their arguments

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harringtonstilinski · 7 months

Text

14, 18, 22 - Stiles Stilinski (Smut)

Author: @harringtonstilinski Characters: Stiles Stilinski x Reader Word Count: 3,796 Warnings: tiniest bit of angst, fluff, Smut: no | yes; virginity loss, protected piv, Requested: Yes. I hope this meets your expectations! A/N: Hi, friends! It's been a while!! I hope you like this! If you do, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊

You and Stiles made a pact when the two of you were 11 years old that if you hadn’t had any “firsts” by a certain age, you’d be each other's first. At first, you both thought it was silly that you were making this list of firsts, but as you sat on your bedroom floor looking at the list of neat and sloppy handwriting at the age of 14, you smiled a little to yourself.

Your bedroom door opening had your head snapping up to see why in the hell someone would bust into your room. The answer came in the form of your best friend, Stiles, practically falling onto your floor.

In between breaths, he said, “Guess… who finally… said hey to me.”

Pretending to think about it, you put your index finger against your jaw, humming in thought. “Let me see,” you said, quietly, tapping where your finger rested. Pointing up while widening your eyes, you said, “Oh! I got it! Scott!”

“Ha ha, very funny,” he deadpanned. “No, I’m serious.”

Sighing, you go back to looking at the piece of paper from three years ago. “Let me guess; Lydia?”

Spazzing out, he said, “Yes! I was walking by her locker and she said hey.”

Looking up confused, you said, “Yeah, she wasn’t talking to you.”

“Ya’know, you don’t have to ruin my moment here,” he said, without missing a beat.

You giggled, still looking at the paper. Stiles sat next to you, looking at the paper as well.

“Oh, wow,” he whispered. “I forgot we wrote this.”

“Yeah,” you whispered back. “I found it last night shoved in the back of my nightstand.” You looked over your shoulder at him, his nose almost touching yours. Hesitantly, you asked, “Have you had your first kiss?”

Stiles shook his head, his eyes locked on yours. “No.” Before either of you knew it, he had leaned forward, pressing his lips against yours. It took you a moment before you kissed him back.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment before you pulled away at the same time. Keeping your eyes closed, you quietly asked, “Why’d you do that?”

“Because you haven’t had your first kiss yet,” he responded just as quietly.

~~~

Graduation day. The day you leave high school… forever. You’re excited about it because that means no more waking up at the ass crack of dawn, no more listening to teachers bitch about students not doing their part, no more fashion contests or popularity contests. Just… no more… for three months.

Stiles turned 18 a few weeks before you and your friends walked across the stage. Everyone wanted to have a joint graduation party at Lydia’s lake house… until a stupid supernatural creature ruined it.

A week had passed between graduation and the party, and while everyone was sitting around the campfire talking about their firsts, all you could do was cast your eyes downward, picking a spot on the ground to stare at as you tried your best to block out the voices.

Once you heard Stiles’ voice, you stood up, tears in your eyes as you walked into the lake house, hearing your name being called from behind you. Making your way up the stairs, you wiped a tear from your cheek that had fallen. Once you made it to the top of the landing, a hand grabbed your arm, gently turning you around.

“What’s wrong?”

Sniffling, you rested your forehead on Stiles’ chest, letting out a quiet sob. “I couldn’t take it anymore.”

Wrapping his arms around you, Stiles sighed and rested his chin on your head. “Couldn’t take what?”

“Hearing you all talk about your firsts,” you whispered.

Stiles put a curved index finger under your chin, lifting your head to look into your tear filled eyes. “You haven’t had your first?”

Shaking your head, you closed your eyes, letting the tears fall. “No. I almost did, but… he wasn’t the right person.” You reached into your back pocket, pulling out a folded piece of paper, holding it up.

Stiles looked at it, a small smile starting to form on his lips. “You carry it with you?”

Nodding, you closed your eyes again to let the tears fall before opening your eyes back up, Stiles’ eyes already on you as you said, “Ever since I found it.”

Without thinking it through, Stiles placed his lips on yours, a sigh coming from your nose. He cupped your cheeks in his hands, carefully walking you backwards into the nearest room, which happened to be the room both your stuff was in.

You made quick work to take off Stiles’ shirt, the two of you breaking apart for a moment to pull the shirt over his head before your lips were back on each other’s only to break apart again for a moment for your shirt to come off.

Stiles looked down at the tops of your breasts that weren't covered by your bra. He looked back up, your eyes locking before he leaned forward, connecting your lips again in heated kiss, his arms circling around your back to hold you to him, your bare stomachs touching.

You hummed at the feeling, wrapping your arms around his neck. Pulling back, you looked at him with a shocked expression, feeling your bra loosen around your chest. “I didn’t even feel you unclasp it.”

Stiles smirked, a cocky one. “I’ve had some practice.”

Your face fell at his words, the confidence you were gaining crumbling to the ground. Stiles noticed and quickly tried to reassure you, “That wasn’t a dig, I’m sorry. It was just–”

His words stopped when you crashed your lips to his again, getting lost in his lips. You didn’t register your bra completely coming off as you made work to unbutton and unzip his jeans.

Slightly pulling away, you kept your lips close to his as you took your bra the rest of the way off, breathlessly saying, “You gotta stop doing that.”

“Doing what?” he chuckled.

“Doing things without me feeling it.”

Laughing lightly, Stiles undid the button and zipper on your shorts as you started to push his jeans down his legs.

Looking at him with an almost serious look that was more laced with humor, you said, “It’s hot as hell, quit.”

Another kiss as he backed you up to the mattress, the backs of your legs meeting it before you fell back on it, crawling backwards on the bed to lay comfortably, your hair splaying out around you. Stiles crawled on top of you, pressing his lips to your stomach every so often before his lips were wrapping around one of your nipples, a moan sounding from your throat.

“Mmmmmm, Stiles,” you moaned, threading your hands through his hair. You looked down at the same exact time Stiles released the bud, only to make his tongue visible as he licked at it. “Fuck, that’s hot.”

Chuckling, Stiles’ forehead met your breast as he laughed at your words. “Let me finish.”

“Then let me continue,” he said, looking up at you. As you nodded, he pushed himself up towards your lips once more, pressing his lips to yours before pulling back, giving your other nipple the same attention.

What you had failed to realize as he kissed his way down your stomach was the fact that your shorts were in a pile on the floor. “Wait, wait.” Stiles lifted his head, eyes swimming with a small bit of fear. Shaking your head, you took a breath. “It’s not bad, just a question.”

He nodded his head, readjusting his hands on the mattress. “Yeah?” “When did my shorts come off?”

He laughed at that, looking down at your stomach. Lifting his head to look back at you, he replied, “When you fell on the bed.”

Your eyes danced around the air above him before you tilted your head to the side a little. “Fair enough.” Looking back at him, you said, “Continue.”

Shaking his head, he looked back down at your stomach, placing a kiss on it. Your nerves started to come up as you watched him wrap his fingers on the top of your panties, anticipating what was going to happen next.

You watched porn before so you knew what to expect, but for it to actually be happening to you was… surreal. The moment that Stiles pulled the top of your panties down a little to place his lips there, you sucked in a breath, the anticipation killing you.

Stiles knew exactly what he was doing. He was fully aware he was taking his time and ultimately teasing you, but he wanted to make this moment with you last as long as he possibly could. Truth be told, he never wanted Malia as his first. She was just there for him in Eichen when Nogitsune possessed him.

He hooked his fingers in the sides of your panties, slowly pulling them down, a quiet “Lift” sounding from his mouth. If you hadn’t been staring at his mouth, you wouldn’t have heard him say it, your body on autopilot as you complied, doing what he asked.

After he dropped your panties to the floor, Stiles placed a kiss to the top of your slit, your breath hitching as he lowered himself, spreading your legs apart, revealing your core to him, your arousal shining. “Damn,” he whispered. He looked up at you, his signature smirk on his lips. “This for me?”

Nodding, you bit your bottom lip, anxious of his next movements.

Stiles looked back down at your core, using his thumbs to spread your lips apart, revealing more of your arousal to him. He moved his eyes to your clit, staring at it for a moment before placing a kiss to it, a hiss coming from your lips.

“Stiles.” It came out in a half moan, half whine. “Do somethi–” A gasp sounded from you as Stiles wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking gently, your back arching off the bed a couple inches. Dropping back down, you moved your head to the side to look at him. “Fuuuuuck.”

He released your clit to lick a long stripe up your core, gathering a little bit of your arousal. “Damn, you taste like heaven.” He licked another stripe before stopping at your clit again, using his tongue to flick at your sensitive bud.

You all but screamed when you felt one of his fingers enter your pussy, a moan sounding out as he slowly pumped his finger in and out before slowly adding another one. Feeling your climax building, you threaded your fingers through his hair, resting your hand on the top of his head.

“Please don’t stop,” you breathed, eyes closing at the pleasure he was giving you. It was way more than you expected. It almost seemed too much. But just as you were about to release all over his fingers, it all suddenly stopped. You looked down at him, shock laced all over your features. “Wha–” The answer that you received from Stiles wasn’t words, but his lips on yours, a promise of what’s to come through the kiss.

He pulled away from the kiss, standing by the edge of the mattress, bending down to retrieve his jeans that you had pushed down his legs earlier. Grabbing his wallet, Stiles looked at you, eyes roaming over your body.

You almost felt insecure with the way he was looking at you. Watching as Stiles grabbed a condom out of his wallet, you sat up, reaching for his cock, beginning to stroke him a little to help keep his erection in place.

Groaning at the pleasure coursing through his body, he closed his eyes, relishing in the feel of your hand on him. What shocked Stiles was the fact that you had slid down the side of the mattress, wrapping your lips around the head of his cock.

Moaning your name, Stiles threw his head back with his eyes closed, not wanting this moment to end. When you hit a certain spot on his cock, he bucked his hips, immediately regretting it when you whined and pulled back.

He looked down at you, making quick movements to help you stand up as your hand was at your mouth. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, hands on your upper arms.

You shook your head, closing your eyes for just a moment. “It’s okay.”

Stiles moved the both of you to sit on the edge of the bed, hand on your back. Truth be told, when he bucked, the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat, almost setting off your gag reflex. Looking at Stiles, you softened your eyes even more than what they already were. “It’s okay, Stiles. Really.”

He stood, starting to pace, mumbling to himself about how he lost control and that he regretted it. You couldn’t help but chuckle at him, his erection still ever present. Standing, you moved in front of him, grabbing him by the shoulders to stop his pacing, a smile on your face.

When his eyes connected with yours, your smile was still on your face. “It’s okay. I promise. I’m fine. Feeling passed just as quickly as it came.” Looking down at his hands, you grabbed the foil from him, tearing the packaging open to carefully pull the condom from the foil.

Remembering what your sex ed teacher taught you, you carefully rolled the condom onto his shaft before grabbing his hands, pulling him with you back to the bed. “Now, forget about all that and take me.”

Crawling back on the bed, you got into your previous position as Stiles crawled over you, hands on either side of your head to brace himself. He placed his lips on yours, giving you a sweet kiss before pulling away and looking down at your core.

You lightly moaned, closing your eyes, the feeling of Stiles’ fingers back on you like pure heaven. Opening your eyes, you watched as Stiles lined himself up with your entrance, gathering the arousal that had formed during both of his touches.

“Stiles,” you moaned, breathlessly.

He locked eyes with you, softness lacing his caramel colored orbs. “It’s gonna hurt.”

You nodded. “I know.” Carding your fingers through the side of his hair, you sighed. “I trust you.”

He mimicked your nod, giving a chaste kiss to your lips before looking back at the spot where the two of you were about to become one. Sighing in anticipation, you closed your eyes, groaning at the feeling of Stiles entering you for the very first time.

Tears formed at your waterline, the pain almost becoming too much. You hadn’t realized you held your breath upon Stiles entering your core until you felt his hand cup your cheek, his thumb smoothing over your cheek.

What you loved in this moment was the fact that Stiles was letting you take all the time you needed to adjust to his size. He didn’t want to pressure you into telling him to move and that it was okay for him to move.

After a moment, Stiles heard you sigh. “You okay?” he asked.

You looked at him, a tear falling from the corner of your eye to your ear, Stiles making a quick movement to catch it with his thumb. Nodding, you kissed the tip of his nose. “Yes. It hurt at first, but it doesn’t anymore.” Cupping his cheeks, you looked him deep in his eyes. “You can move now.”

“Okay,” he whispered. “I’ll start slow and then you can tell me if you want–”

Chuckling, you said, “Stiles, I know, and I will.”

He breathed a quick laugh, his breath fanning over your face. “Okay. Here I go.” Pulling out slow, the both of you hissed at the feeling before he slowly pushed back in. He kept the pace, listening for your cue’s on whether or not you were in pain.

Once your breathing evened out, your moans turned from almost strained and painful to soft and pleasurable. Stiles moved to rest his forearms by your head, almost cupping the top of your head with his hands.

“Stiles,” you lightly moaned. “You can go a little faster, maybe a tad harder.”

He breathed the word fuck, doing as you asked. He respected you so much, happy that you allowed him this moment with you.

As pleasure coursed through you, your moans grew louder, letting Stiles know that what he was doing was the right move, the right thing. You moved your hands from his cheeks to wrap your arms around his neck, Stiles instantly wrapping you in his arms the best he could.

“Stiles,” you moaned, loudly. “Gonna cum.” Stiles’ pubic hair was rubbing against your clit, sending immense pleasure through you. “Don’t stop.”

“Don’t plan on it,” he whispered. “Let go, babe. I’m so close.”

“Stiles!!” You breathed in deep, your release shattering through you, Stiles instantly releasing with you. Neither of you moved for what felt like hours, but it was only a couple minutes as you both regained your breathing.

Stiles leaned up a little, looking into your eyes. “Are you okay?”

Nodding with a small smile, you carded your fingers through his hair. “I’m perfect. Thank you.”

He kissed your nose in response, telling you that he was going to carefully pull out, the both of you hissing as he did. He walked into the bathroom, cleaning himself up before bringing a warm washcloth to you, carefully cleaning you up. He sighed a little to himself, seeing the tiniest bit of blood on the washcloth.

“What?” you asked, sitting up a little.

“You’re bleeding,” he whispered, showing you the cloth.

Sighing lightly, you said, “That’s to be expected, Stiles. It’s fine. I’m fine. I’ll be sore tomorrow, but I’ll be fine. I promise.”

Realizing that you were right, Stiles smirked that smirk that could kill before nodding slightly, moving to dress himself before helping to redress you. He helped you down the stairs, you reassuring him that you’re not fragile and that you’re okay enough to walk on your own.

When the two of you made it back to the fire and sat back down in your original spots, you looked at Scott, the True Alpha werewolf knowing what just happened between you and Stiles, a chuckle sounding out of your throat as you told him, “Shut up.”

~~~

Another graduation day. This time for you graduating from college. You were more than excited to finally be done with school for what will probably be the rest of your life, if you didn’t find something else to go for.

As all the graduation caps flew into the air, you had the biggest smile on your face, remembering all of your friends and family screaming and hollering and celebrating as you walked across the stage after your name was called.

Since all the guests had to wait outside for the graduate, you were practically buzzing to get outside to see everyone. The friends you made during your four years at college will forever be your best friends, but no one will ever hold a candle to your Beacon Hills friends.

Once you made it outside and spotted your family, your smile stretched so wide across your face, you thought you’d permanently become the Joker. You ran to your family, your mom engulfing you in a hug, holding you tightly to her chest. You hugged your dad next, putting your hand on each one of their shoulders, the smile never faltering as you looked them in their eyes, thanking them for everything they’d done for you this far in your life.

The smile on your dads face had you looking over his shoulder, spotting your friends behind him. Moving to squeeze yourself in between your parents, you all but jumped into Scott’s arms, the Alpha giving you a tight, brotherly hug.

Lydia was next, followed by Malia, Liam and Mason. Sheriff was even there! But you couldn’t spot the one person you wanted to hug more than anything; Stiles.

Looking around, you started to get worried as you heard gasps all around you. “Where’s Stiles?” you asked, looking at Scott.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, just smiled at you before he whispered, “Turn around.”

You did as he asked, turning around, but not seeing Stiles… until you looked down, your spazz of a best friend on one knee, a velvet box in his hand. “Stiles,” you whispered, covering your mouth with your hand. “What?”

“We made a promise,” he said. “A promise as kids that we’ve kept.”

Letting out a quick, breathy chuckle, you said, “It was a pact.”

“Same thing,” he said, a smile on his face. “There were a lot of things that I regretted with that pact, but I’m happy I got to be it for you. For all of it.”

“Wait, what?” Malia asked.

Everyone laughed at her question, you turning to face her. “When Stiles and I were eleven years old, we made a pact that if we hadn’t had certain firsts by a certain age, we’d be that first for each other.” Turning back to Stiles, you whispered, “He was my first kiss, and first time.”

“And I’m now hoping I’ll be your first proposal,” he whispered back, to which you nodded.

“Can you get on with it even though we’re not a couple?” you asked, already buzzing with your answer.

“You’ve made me happy since we were kids, and I would love nothing more than to make you happy for the rest of our lives,” he continued. “Yeah, we’re not a couple, but you know everything there is to know about me. Come to think of it…” He trailed off, looking deep in thought. “I don’t think there’s a thing you don’t know about me.”

“Stiles!” everyone exclaimed.

Looking back at you, Stiles shook all thoughts from his head. “Oh, right, sorry.”

“Just ask!”

“Will you marr-”

“Yes!” you all but yelled. “Now get up so I can kiss you!”

Stiles smiled, standing and wrapping you in his arms. “You didn’t see the ring yet.”

“I don’t care,” you said, cupping his cheeks and bringing his lips to yours. The kiss that solidified your love for the boy you absolutely loved since your first kiss at fourteen, your first time at eighteen.

He pulled back, smiling at you before he opened the box, revealing the engagement ring of your dreams. As he took it from the box, you put your hand out, excited to be his. Once he slipped it on your finger, you looked at him once more, cupping his cheeks again to tell him those three words you always wanted to tell him.

“I love you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N 2: hi, friends! let me know what you thought about! again, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox.

Additional Notes:

~~~

Forever / Everything Taglist: @stiles-o-dylan24 @stixnstripesworld @fandom-princess-forevermore @quanticobae @mischiefandi @kellyashcroft @lauren-novak

If you’re tagged and didn’t want to be, please let me know.

Italics wouldn’t let me tag!

~~~

*Please don’t post my writing anywhere else without my consent. The author of this work will always and forever be @harringtonstilinski.

All characters, story lines, and plot aside from y/n and her storyline & plot, are all of the work of Jeff Davis.

*These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited.

No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

Posted on September 24, 2023

#stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski x reader insert #stiles x reader #stiles x reader insert #dylan o'brien x reader #dylan x reader

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theycallmemisterbutterfingers · 4 months

Text

Somebody To Luuuvvvvvv

so, i wrote this fic a WHILE ago, and promptly forgot abt it lmao. it was something i worked at on and off for a month, so it may be a little disjointed. also, I very much recommend listening to Somebody To Love (Queen) while reading, although depending on how speedy you are with reading, the fic will extend past the song's length. ALSO, I started writing it to mirror the lyrics of Somebody To Love, but I lost track of it a little in the last stretch, since there's a lotta instrumental and I just kinda went off HAH

anyhow

oh also i drew this little animation in like October and i'm sorry and you're welcome? sorry because ACK i swear to god i can draw better but you're welcome in case you like it ,,,,, yeah ,,,,,,, much love!!

Can

Anybody?

Find me

Somebody to…

Love.

…

Crowley launched himself up from his desk, sending a few pieces of glass clattering to the floor, shattered remains of his heart. He wobbled for a moment, the alcohol settling in weird places. Reality spun. He thought he saw stars. And then worse.

He thought he saw his angel.

His knees buckled, and his hand shot out to brace himself on his desk. His other hand reached up to shakily run a hand down his face. Take a look at this poor sod, he thought bitterly, about to berate himself. Then he caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection of his window, and he traced the scars down her cheeks that the tears had left in their wake. Crowley sighed, then chuckled—a small, self-deprecating one. Oh, what he’s doing to me.

He’d spent all his years believing in the bastard, chasing him, wanting him, hoping that they were the same. Thinking that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t fully alone.

And then the angel took his heart and blasted it away with his halo. With his Heaven-besotted ideals that Crowley thought he had left behind. No such relief.

And all Crowley wanted was to love and be loved by him. Too much to ask, turns out.

…

He was behind the wheel. Again. He didn’t quite know how he got there, really, and he didn’t know where he was going, either. All he knew was that he was driving—driving away. Driving far away from…what? The work he had put in for himself—for his angel—to live a life safely in the corner? Maybe. Driving away from being alone? Hm. As if he could be driving away from the ache in his bones and towards Az—well. He wasn’t, at any rate. Crowley cursed himself under his breath and pulled over.

The sun was setting, colors bleeding out into the sky. Bleeding out. Now that was something that Crowley was familiar with. He looked up at it all, trying in vain to see anything—any sign from the Universe, from God, anything at all—but no. His knees hit the dirt. “God…what’re you doing to me? You listening? This part of your Great Plan, too?”

Nothing. Crowley dug his nails into his palms until he drew blood.

They do say that snakes can’t cry.

Well.

They also say snakes don’t fall in love. That they can’t feel it.

But just look at Crowley.

🌟

Aziraphale hurried through the empty space of Heaven, a harried look on his face. He had been working nonstop ever since he returned, trying to prove his worth, trying to do good, trying to be good. But there were stares pricking the back of his neck. Veiled criticism, judgement. They thought him odd, strange, impure. Tainted from Earth. They don’t want me here, he thought, then quickly shook it away. He had to keep faith. Believe in good in others, and the good of God.

But there’s nobody left to believe in me.

…

Aziraphale blinked. He had been heading towards the higher floors, but his feet had betrayed him. They had led him to the globe. His chest warmed seeing Earth, but there was this terrible, sudden ache in his gut. Aziraphale put a hand to his stomach, breathless for a moment.

Guilt.

Horrible, horrible guilt.

His hands shook. His stomach roiled like there was a nest of snakes, snakes, Crowley, his Crowley, his Crowley that he left behind, the desperation etched into his face as he—

Stop, he told himself. Stop. You can’t. Push it down, push it down, remember? You need to focus on your tasks. You need to forget.

Do you? Part of him whispered.

Quiet, he thought. No thoughts. You must be good.

It would be good, this traitorous part of him whispered. You would be doing a good thing. Checking up on that nice angel, Muriel.

Oh, yes, Muriel. Of course. It would only take a moment to pop in, after all. He wrung his hands, thinking hard and thinking fast. His tasks weren’t too urgent—just some paperwork, a few visits to the superiors; yes, it would be fine. Tickety-boo. Besides, he really needed to make sure the bookshop and Muriel were fine. Nothing else. What else would there be, really? For such a quick visit, especially? Aziraphale was still for a moment—save for his hands, which shook like leaves—and then with one decisive motion he tapped the globe, and felt himself dissolve into light.

🥀

Crowley slumped in his Bentley, cheeks stinging, throat hurting. Queen played over the speakers, but he kept losing track of the song, sliding in and out of white noise. After a few moments, he inhaled sharply and clenched his jaw. He was alright. He was fine. He was a demon. Of course he was alright. In fact, he was so alright, he would go and make sure Muriel hadn’t sold anything. At the bookshop. Because he was alright he was alright he was FINE. He stomped on the gas pedal with a bit more vigor than usual and began to whip through the streets, disregarding anything his mind might mutter to him. Perhaps that—Crowley ignoring himself as much as he possibly could—perhaps that was why he didn’t notice the feeling of his angel returning to Earth.

…

Crowley slammed the Bentley’s door shut and sauntered across the street to the bookshop, confident as a lioness. The confidence was a sham. He was a right wreck internally. He unlocked the door and swung inside with carefully practiced nonchalance, carefully hidden nerves, everything under the surface, as it should be. But the memories still hit him like a Bentley going 90. Frozen, he could do nothing but boggle at the bookshelves with their alphabetized books all in the right places and the angel wing mug with hot chocolate still steaming, until he heard a cheerful voice from up the stairs, “Be with you in a minute!!”

This managed to jolt Crowley out of his reverie, and he managed to shout back, “It’s me!”

“Oh!! Ah,” and there was quite a bit of shuffling around. Crowley shoved his hands in his pockets and tried to take measured breaths. Being back in the same place, the same spot where he—

“Hello, Mr. Crowley!!” Muriel beamed over the banister upstairs before hurrying down the stairs. “Haven’t seen you in a bit!”

Crowley hummed noncommittally. Muriel fidgeted.

“Did you need anything, Mr. Crowley?” They asked, looking at him a little too expectantly. Crowley had a sudden memory of that kid he had encountered as Bilidad, the little one who wanted to be a lizard.

“Erm…”

It wasn’t to check on the books, really. What did Crowley need?

Well.

Wasn’t it obvious?

He needed him.

His angel. His Az—hm.

His A—guh.

His A…He needed Aziraphale.

There, he said it. Wasn’t so hard.

He needed his somebody to love.

But his somebody was gone.

He didn’t say any of this to Muriel, though. Instead, he just shrugged. “Thought I’d stop by, make sure you hadn’t sold anything.”

Muriel shook their head vehemently. “Oh, no, certainly not!! I remember what you were like when I first took over the shop,,” they took on a grumpy, spiky air then, ignoring the dinging of the shop bell, “Now listen here, Muriel, if you sell any one of these books, I will march right up to heaven and tell those higher-ups that you are doing Very, Very Bad Things. So do not, under any circumstances, sell these books!!” Muriel finished their impression attempting a scowl matching Crowley’s, cementing their inability to make any sort of coarse expression.

Crowley scoffed and was about to complain that he did NOT sound like that, not in the slightest, when—

“Oh, Crowley, did you really?”

Fireworks rocketed up Crowley’s spine and exploded in his chest, and he whipped around to see—

To see—

His angel.

Aziraphale standing in the doorway of the shop, looking like he was already regretting even stepping through the door, but still with that nervous, gentle smile Crowley loved so, and he could do nothing but gape at Aziraphale, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Aziraphale didn’t fare much better, only just managing to stand there, wobbly and woeful. Muriel, slowly becoming more adept at social situations, sidled into the back room, and the sound of the door shutting snapped Crowley out of his stupor—and his wounded heart throbbed.

“Back to forgive me again, then?” Spat Crowley bitterly.

“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale breathed, teary-eyed, and before Crowley could say anything else, Aziraphale rushed into him, grabbing his lapels and burying his face in Crowley’s chest.

“I mi-i-issed-d you,” He sobbed, and Crowley wanted to shove him away, wanted to snarl barbed words and sharp jabs, wanted try and make him feel some semblance of the pain he felt—

But he couldn’t bring himself to do so. He couldn’t bring himself to hurt his angel, when he was already so awfully distraught. So he put a tentative, shaky hand on Aziraphale’s back, and said, quietly, “Hi, Angel.”

Aziraphale sniffed loudly at that and looked up at him. Then he stepped back, only slightly, and they simply looked at each other for a moment. Then—

“Why did you leave—?!” They started, simultaneously, then stopped.

“Well, you were the one leaving, Angel,” Crowley snapped, brows knitted together.

Aziraphale looked at him quizzically and sniffed again. “B-But I asked you to come with me, dear. I wanted you to come with me. I wanted you to come so terribly,” his lip wobbled, “And-and then you got mad, and ki-kissed me, and then—hic—and then you left!”

Crowley scowled, confused. He was quite certain that Aziraphale had been the one to do the leaving.

“But you abandoned me,” he said, voice rough, “After all we’ve gone through! I thought we were a team, Aziraphale. I thought you liked me how I was—not an angel, not a demon, as me.”

Aziraphale whimpered, wringing his hands. “But I do like you, Crowley! I’m so, so s-sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you, I promise, I just—I want to be with you, oh so much! And we could be together, in Heaven, as angels, without messiness, and—and, oh, I thought you’d be happier as an angel. I mean, you used to be, when you were…”

Crowley sighed, his anger beginning to cool. Oh, Angel. “I don’t want Heaven. I don’t want to be who I was. I just want to be me, now, here, with you,” He said, as gently as he could muster, taking his sunglasses off. Aziraphale blinked, another sparkling tear trailing down his cheek. Crowley had to curb the urge to wipe it away by shoving his hands in his pockets.

“B-But…but an angel? A-a demon?? That—”

“Would be alright.” Crowley finished, trying to smile, trying not to hope. “We could do it.” Aziraphale wavered, unsure, worried. He cast a look around him, and then, resolutely,

“I need to go back.” Crowley’s heart plummeted to the floor and shattered like an empty bottle. Again.

He made to leave, eyes already stinging, but Aziraphale grabbed at him. “Wait, Crowley!!” But no. Not again. Never again. Crowley wrenched away, looking at the ground, trying to stride past him, a painful crescendo rising in his head, already berating himself for trusting so quickly, hoping so easily, and then, and then he felt a soft hand tilt his face up and take off his glasses and, and, and—and Aziraphale was kissing him. Kissing him. Crowley’s thoughts blinked out of existence completely. All he could focus on was Aziraphale, him against Crowley’s lips, again, finally. Aziraphale’s tears wet Crowley’s cheeks and burned there and Crowley didn’t mind in the slightest. And he kissed back, fiercely, not caring if the rest of him burned up as a result.

Aziraphale gasped at the kiss deepening, and something roared deep inside of Crowley, and then, suddenly—Aziraphale pulled away.

It was as if Crowley had been lit on fire and then doused with cold water, and all he could do was stand there, shivering and overheating at the same time. Aziraphale, though shaking as well, took a deep breath.

“Crowley. I am going, but I’m not leaving,” and he took Crowley’s face in both hands, “I’m not leaving you. I never meant to in the first place. I’m sorry. Please…forgive me.”

Crowley didn’t know how to respond. What could he possibly say? What could he—

A tear slid down his face, and Aziraphale brushed it away with his thumb, tenderly, lovingly.

And Crowley broke.

“Oh, dear,” Aziraphale murmured, and cradled Crowley close as he crumpled into his arms. He trembled like a leaf, loud sobs wracking his body.

They sank to the ground together, and stayed that way for a long time.

Eventually, Crowley could breathe without feeling like he was suffocating. Cheeks burning, he slowly sat up, looking anywhere but at Aziraphale, embarrassed. “Ngk—sorry, Angel.”

“My dear boy,” Aziraphale turned his face back to him with a feather-light touch, “You have nothing to be sorry for.” Crowley damn near started crying again. He nodded and sniffed, rubbing his face. “You’re too nice to me.”

Aziraphale smiled at him, eyes twinkling. “Nice is a four-letter word.”

They gazed at each other adoringly, neither quite believing that they could hope again, hope for a future together, as hope was a four-letter word, too. Then Crowley looked down at the ground. “So…you have to go.”

“I will be back, Crowley,” Aziraphale said, and stood up, “I just need to do a few things first.”

“I need you,” Crowley pleaded, on his knees, all defenses forgotten, all barriers down. “Stay. Please.”

“I need you too,” Aziraphale said softly, doe-eyed, and kissed him on the forehead. “I want to stay with you. But I have to keep Earth safe. I can change things, in Heaven. I can stop the Second Coming.”

His face hardened and, for a moment, looked every bit the Archangel he was supposed to be. “Even if it means making a few…executive decisions. In the name of good, of course.”

“Of course,” Crowley echoed, feeling a bit dazed.

Aziraphale smiled at him and then looked up, wings materializing behind him. “I’ll see you soon, dear.”

Crowley, as if struck by a pin, sprung up towards Aziraphale and kissed him once more. Aziraphale, who had already begun to glow with departure, kissed back just as hard, if not harder. Crowley held onto the quickly dissipating angel tightly, as long as he could, until Aziraphale fully disappeared…and then Crowley fell flat on his face.

Oh, would you look at that, Crowley mused to himself, ass up, face down. I’ve fallen. “Erm,” said a timid voice behind him, “Would you like some hot chocolate, Mr. Crowley?”

thank you for reading!!!!!!!

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