#or tried to blame on other ppl

[kami-kun1003]

TWST fic writers stop reducing Silver’s entire personality to just “sleepy boy who falls asleep all the time and is sooooo sleepy and tired and did i mention he sleeps a lot and also he loves his dad” challenge (impossible) (gone wrong)

#also if u portray him as LIKING sleep i will personally bite you #and before u say ‘oh but he really doesnt have a personality besides those traits’ that is incorrect #he’s blunt and honest to the point where he can come off as rude #he’s calm and collected and keeps a cool head even during an emergency #he’s a drama queen and often takes things too seriously #he’s not stupid exactly but can be very naive and doesn’t understand relationships very well #he’s extremely passive and rarely stands up for himself #he finds ways to blame himself for things that arent his own fault #he deeply admires and respects people who are strong and protective of their loved ones #he’s selfless and always tries to do what he considers to be the ‘right’ thing #he has a lot of trouble expressing his emotions and is insecure abt others not taking him seriously #he is so much more than just ‘precious sleepy boi uwu’ #or atleast thats my interpretation of him idk u guys can do whatever you want #it just bugs me when ppl misinterpret his character so badly #this is what 2 years of hyperfixation will do to a person #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst silver #twst analysis #diasomnia #character analysis

[lord-squiggletits]

On the MegOP fandom trend of saying "Optimus should apologize to Megatron"

(Speaking specifically for IDW1, though it applies to a lot of MegOP especially ones that do continuity soup with heavy reference to IDW1)

I was talking to a friend in DMs and they mentioned a common headcanon/fanfic trope that I also concurred with, and both of us said it's something that bothers us: a common take in the MegOP fandom goes basically along the lines of "If Optimus had just apologized to Megatron, the war would've ended" (or other variants including "if he'd tried harder to understand Megatron/work in collaboration with him").

And firstly, this is incorrect for a number of reasons:

There were attempts at peace negotiations during the war, but they fell through. So Optimus WAS trying to work with Megatron to the point of participating in formal diplomatic meetings.

Optimus tried multiple times on page to convince Megatron to just stop fighting and work with him for peace (Autocracy, Chaos Theory) that Megatron rejected. Given that these on-page examples take place at the start of the war and at the end of the war respectively, it makes sense that Optimus asking Megatron for collaboration is something he was trying/willing to do the entire time. So again, Optimus was always willing AND ATTEMPTING to work with Megatron and find a joint solution

Even before the war when Optimus was still Orion, he was very explicitly inspired by Megatron's writing and names Megatron as one of the people who "opened his eyes" to the wrongs of Cybertronian society. So how is it that people claim "the war went on for too long because Optimus never tried to understand Megatron" when OP literally named Megatron as one of his biggest idols, thus implying that OP does understand Megatron's ideals

But the primary purpose of this post wasn't to defend Optimus, actually. Even though I personally think Optimus did plenty (dare I say, everything) to try to end the war, there are some who may still think otherwise, so instead of arguing about whether Optimus did "enough", or who should apologize to whom, or who "deserves the blame" for starting/continuing the war, I'd actually rather talk about this:

No matter who is most "to blame" for the war, it's my firm belief that neither Megatron nor Optimus would even expect/demand the other to apologize to them at all.

On Megatron's side, he would never seek to judge Optimus negatively for the decisions to the point of saying "you wronged me, apologize." Whether it's evil Megatron who doesn't care about atrocities and revels in an opportunity to expose Optimus as a hypocrite, or post-war/Autobot Megatron who knows that his own evil actions are irredeemable, the idea of Megatron judging Optimus and demanding an apology for the war specifically strikes me as out-of-character. Why would Megatron demand or even want an apology from Optimus when Megatron knows fully well that he has his own sins to bear, he prolonged the war for his own selfish/material gain, and that he is responsible for an untold amount of suffering? Demanding an apology would imply that Megatron sees himself as the wronged party and Optimus as the wrongdoer, but by the end of the war, Megatron is too aware of his own part in the war to ever demand such a thing of Optimus. Even if he DID think that Optimus was "equally to blame" for the war (which he doesn't/wouldn't, btw), Megatron's own feelings of guilt would prevent him from trying to seek the petty satisfaction of the moral high ground or making Optimus beg for his forgiveness.

Additionally, Megatron knows Optimus very well as a person: he knows that the position of leadership is full of "loneliness [and] agonizing self-doubt" for Optimus (Chaos Theory) and that "when Optimus hurts others, he hurts himself" (MTMTE). Another reason that Megatron wouldn't demand nor want an apology from Optimus is because Megatron knows Optimus so well that he already knows that being a war leader fills Optimus with immense guilt and suffering. Given that Megatron knows about Optimus' self-doubt and guilt, why would he even need an apology when he already knows how much Optimus regrets the war and desperately wishes/wished for it to end?

Then, as established in the previous paragraphs, Optimus is too full of guilt for his part in the war (both before it started and in being unable to stop it sooner) to demand an apology from Megatron. Again, demanding an apology would put Optimus in an implied position of moral superiority and/or victimhood, but Optimus doesn't see himself as morally superior or as a victim (or rather, he sees himself as being responsible for these bad things happening and internalizes this as a duty to do better/fix wrongdoings). In other words, Megatron and Optimus both share this view of themselves and each other: Their hands are so dirty, and they both feel such guilt over this, and they know each other well enough to know that the other feels this way as well. Because both of them feel blame for the war and are acutely aware of their own flaws/part in suffering, both of them feel far too responsible for the war happening for them to ever blame their archnemesis for "not trying harder" or "being responsible for the war."

Hell, if you even look at the socio-political climate of Cybertron before the war started, neither Megatron nor Optimus were the ones who put this conflict into motion. The corrupt legacy of the Primes, Functionism, class issues-- all of these things existed before Megatron and Optimus did. Even once they started doing things like writing about social issues (M) or fighting against the Senate (OP), both of them were "underlings" in sense that they weren't leaders:

Megatron's writings may have inspired the Decepticon movement, but that movement existed as an independent entity with its own leaders and speakers long before Megatron became the "official" ruler of the Decepticons. He wasn't even the leader of the 'Cons until he took control of the gladiator arena and the nonviolent sections of the Decepticons were (presumably) subsumed into the underground, exploitative battle culture that Megatron created.

Optimus-as-Orion was a police officer to start, but even once he started going against the Senate, he mainly worked in collaboration with others like Senator Shockwave and Zeta (later Zeta Prime), who he either saw as his idols or who were literally superior to him in rank due to government/military structures.

So with this in mind, even from a social level, while Megatron and Optimus may have been "catalysts" of a sort that caused the war to escalate to an outright planetary/galactic level, the scenario is too complex to solely lay the blame for the war at either of their feet. I'm not confident in saying that Megatron/Optimus would explicitly think of this when talking to each other, but what I'm trying to say is that M/OP were just catalysts in a long chain of brewing tension that exploded into a war. Even if one could claim that one of them "started" or "escalated" the war, the social issues that caused the war and the positions of power that allowed them to become leaders in the first place were falling into place before either of them actually BECAME leaders.

In other words, this shared fate of being the final reaction that exploded a societal conflict into outright war... Megatron and Optimus both have that in common. And because of this, I really don't think either of them would even think to ask the other to apologize because they're both in such similar positions, with such similar feelings of guilt and responsibility, that they understand each other's feelings without words. To demand an apology would be akin to taking that shared vulnerability/guilt and stepping on it, attempting to claim that one is right/superior and the other is wrong/inferior, and that the inferior one needs to grovel and take responsibility for the bad things that happened.

#squiggposting #idw megop #idk if this'll get me hate or not but it's something i think about a lot #and verbalizing it to that friend in DMs helped me put into words why that common fanon take bothers me #also. hot take but if any 'apologies' are necessary then it's M who should be apologizing to OP #the war may be both of their faults but M is the one who explicitly did/said things just to hurt OP and break his spirit #i'm tired of ppl who don't understand (or at least don't discuss) how hurt OP is and how he deserves recogniztion of his feelings too #megop #then again this fanon take may just be a consequence of continuity soup culture #where ppl don't have to acknowledge specific things that M or OP did bc they can just selectively include or not include details from canon #so like. i guess in their continuity soup continuties their fanon is technically correct #but in terms of the source material which is the one shared experience we all have and the common language we derive fanon from #this fanon is very incorrect. or at least i hope i've managed to argue that it's incorrect #anyways the thesis of megop is that they're equals and opposites who are inextricably tied to each other #fanon that tries to place the blame on one or castigate one of them is missing the point of megop #the point is that they're equal. equally strong and charismatic and amazing. and equally culpable #even if they're not literally equally responsible for idw megop at least they at least both FEEL responsible #and i don't think idw megops are the type to mince words about who's 'more responsible' #they're both depressed old men who hate themselves and regret basically their whole lives. why would they judge each other like that

[avocadoraisin]

hello are there any saw fandom art/writer events i dont know about

like big bangs, reverse bangs, secret santas, or other projects?

its been so long since i participated in a reversebang aough youd make my dreams come true if someone told me there was one here

#saw #saw franchise #coffinshipping #chainshipping #shotgunshipping #saw movies #jenna shut up #im pretty sure like every other exchange event ive been a part of my partner always drops and its always sad but like #i still have fun doing my half of the work. i think ive always gotten a very generous pinch hitter anyway #i tried googling for any events but what do you know. its REALLY HARD TO GOOGLE “SAW” THINGS LMAO #absolutely no SEO. anyway i also looked up the ship names but couldnt find anything #anyway i certainly dont blame ppl bc i know I wouldnt want to organize and moderate an event like these

[cogbreath]

hint: do you recognize/remember the name mohamed atta in relation to this event? (it doesnt count if u "feel like that sounds right.". be honest. yes or no. )

if its a yes also share what generation u are from in the notes i wonder if ppl who were alive when it happened know this more than zoomers and onwards

#it seems like something many ppl dont know ?? #when its typical for people to know the names of people behind other infamous crimes #despite its given so much attention otherwise? #which i feel is definitely related to the fact rht the us tried to shift blame on all muslims basically

[traitorsinsalem]

i sound like the youngest boomer on earth whenever i say this but it really was a mistake for baby gays to learn about the term fruit. idk what it is about the internet that makes kids see a derogatory term for a marginalized group they’re part of, or even just adjacent to, which they’ve never been targeted with and decide it’s just their new Special Inside Joke Swear Word. some 16 y/o online calling a picture of a celebrity wearing a gaudy sweater fruity or faggy isn’t “reclamation” it’s just parroting homophobia and not funny in the slightest.

speaking among onesself or close friends is one thing but when it gets to the point (and it has) where people are calling real life people they barely (or don’t) know homophobic terms, it doesn’t matter if the person saying it is gay or not.

#succ speaks #also i thought people were only like this online but being at a lac. people really just do this to people they know irl. #like they actually just say things. having to listen to a girl call ross gay 'fruity' in a poetry class and then like a week later... #...a guy who i was kinda friends with but also hung out with a total of like 5 times decided yeah sure i can call the group chat faggots #just......wow. people really live like this. and not even 8th grade gsa attendees who are still learning. young adults in the workforce. #i also think this sort of faux solidarity is why this same demographic desperately tries to express personal parallels to experiences... #...they have never gone through and/or cannot possibly go through. something about slowly losing the ability to listen and needing to talk. #<- also sorry to sound like a psych major but egocentric approaches to social media has done irreversible damage to so many young ppl... #...but at the same time we (young ppl on social media) are to blame because social media platforms are egocentric by design. #being invested in onesself isn't a cause of shitheadedry but a lot of people have really just gotten so dismissive of others it's insane. #also idk pretend i made a solid link between this and The Lost Art Of The Sincere Apology And Taking Accountability #this is just me parroting a convo i had w some friends at lunch 2day btw. posting it online bc someone probably needs to see this. #<- AS IN. ppl have definitely thought the same thing and need to see it articulated not that someone needs to feel called out by it #feeling called out by this would be like. a personal problem to sort out

[charmac]

x

#bro i can’t with the way some people love to sanitise this show to a certain degree #like when it comes down to it #they’re all fucked up #saying a certain plot was a mistake or ooc #bc they’re fucked up people who fuck up and do bad shit #like be real lol #do whatever you want in fanon #but the whinging and blaming when bad ppl do bad thing #when they’re actually awful to each other #when they fuck up each others lives and psyches #like YEAH. #THATS THE POINT #they’re so awful it extends right to the people they love the most #you’re in the wrong place if you think the gang hurting each other is out of character or ‘bad writing’ #this isnt about retcons btw this is about certain later seasons #bc yes i think we all agree the show did get softer #but it shouldn’t be whiplash to the point of blaming random writers and saying ‘that’s not canon’ when they’re fucked up people still #anyway can’t wait for frank to shoot one of them on purpose #and for one of them to kick dennis when he’s in fetal position breakdown #hope charlie tries to drive on the road trip and hits mac with the car and blames him for being a gay loser about it #no one gets us man… #sorry i’m sleep deprived what else is new

[yooniesim]

Collective and final post should've just been an apology and a promise to do better. But I guess that's just too much to hope for.

#ceci speaks #nonsims #text #delete later #definitely shouldnt have had more lies and easily disproven claims in it tsk tsk #and continuing to insult the people triggered #shows absolutely 0 remorse not that i expected any better #you didnt say one damn thing you did wrong not one #you couldnt even admit or say sorry for ONE thing #i said sorry for my stupid ass meme reference joke which was dumb of me and was the only leg u had to stand on #which ur tryin to spin as me being anti asian with covid which is fucking stupid considering #i am asian too u stupid fuck and i had patients calling me corona and ch**nk and not wanting me to tend to them before they fucking died #i know about covid racism against us very fucking well #i dont need a statistic to tell me about it bc i was knee deep in ppe trying to get blood from ppl that blamed me for it existing #i watched people die from covid for three years straight i know it all fucking well #and yet i still apologized bc the joke was in poor taste and i feel bad it was misconstrued and hurt others #you cant even apologize to the people you hurt bc youre too focused on not being wrong about anything #you can delete the posts if u wanna theyre already there #in screenshots #i tried to get you to stop for over a week and you wouldnt leave me alone #i refused to mention your name for days and you kept insulting me and mentioning me over and over again #and you had the nerve to call other ppl stalkers just because they shared ur cc in a cc finds channel #now you're trying to talk nice #or nice enough that someone might feel sorry for you after you showed your entire ass for a week #i dont feel sorry for you one bit #not after all the bullshit you said that youre trying to delete now that ppl found it #too late #eat shit #negative #im done for the night goodnight and sorry everyone

[avenger-hawk]

.

#I should get back to fandom activities #update my fics #and similar stuff #but I am so involved in following the war. I mean #the Ukrainian resistance against the rashist aggression #I can't believe ppl around me don't support them. are fake pacifists #believe russian propaganda blaming anyone except russia #I'm so angry and pissed off tbh #I can't focus on anything else #it's kinda like the culture and certainties I was raised with were destroyed and now I know it was all rashist propaganda #I'm glad I know now #and I'm angry that others don't see it and still cling to that shit #(btw this is just my personal vent. I'm not complaining or trying to put myself in the center of attention thus stealing it to real victims) #i mean I am totally complaining but as a personal thing. about how sad it is when ppl around us see things through a shitty filter #of propaganda and nothing helps. I've been reading so much and I tried explaining them but nothing

[alexa-crowe]

.

#not to bring this up again but that ask was so out of pocket #so many things wrong with that #and incorrect #honestly there’s like 2 or 3 people who absolutely despise me and i don’t know why #but if you hate me that much for being a dumb teen who’s learning to regulate her emotions better instead of flying off the handle #maybe you need to look inwards at yourself #to be like “ugh they blamed it on being autistic or something” is ableist. we have the words for it #“neurodivergent” #do not fucking conflate neurodivergencies just bc you have no respect for me #and i’m sorry but how the fuck was any of that anon’s business #“the person was so upset” we hashed it out like civilized ppl and moved on which apparently anon hasn’t been able to do #i’m sorry for flying off the handle but i’m not going to apologize for saying true things #and it has nothing to do with being too familiar with ppl #in fact that incident and the other recent one explicitly only happened bc i was unfamiliar with their humor #and i’m sorry if i have trouble catching jokes but that’s not an excuse to say that people liking my fannish content #are perpetuating a culture of meanness #YOU are the one doing that #and to my friend who got that ask i’m sorry they tried to drag you into this #you don’t deserve that #you’ve been nothing but kind and you’ve expressed so many times what types of asks you don’t want to get #rambling

[shinigxmi-muses]

🍉 - What is something they have done that they feel the most guilt over? How do they handle this guilt?  Does the guilt ever get resolved? / for aerith

Random Headcanons

In all honesty? It's...existing. It's so difficult to have quiet moments, and realize that a lot- nearly all- of the tragedy in her life is because of who she is. Who her mother was.

Her mother died because she was an Ancient; a Cetra. It led to her being experimented on. Potentially her father's death. (I personally headcanon that Ifalna didn't want to tell Aerith the truth of what happened to him; just that he died, and she was born where there was snow.) It led to her mother dying.

Because of being half-Cetra, she would be hunted down by Shinra to deliver them to the "Promised Land." She would struggle to make friends; weirding them out or scaring them. Once, she had even concerned Elmyra with her ahead-of-time call that her husband had died.

...She can hardly be personally blamed for Sephiroth. However, the events that pursue the group continue to have been put into motion by her, in some way. Her "useless" materia being the most important of all.

At one point, she had to look at her friends' faces- real friends this time, who were accepting her as she was- and leave them. Knowing she was doing so for the last time. (But it would be worth it. Risking her life, likely losing it in attempting to awaken Holy... It would have to be worth it.)

It's this devastating feeling that she learns to attempt to stifle down. Bottle it up. Hide it from her new, and only, group of friends. Learn how to fake smiles a little better. Stand up a little straighter. Because as guilty as she feels... She loves them. They accepted her. Living to your early 20s isn't much of a life lived, but it was so, so worth it to have known them all.

(And if she has to do it all over again... Then so be it.)

#bitterarcs #Aerith answers #about: Aerith Gainsborough #[ it hurts to write but it's true!! ] #[ there's always that nagging guilt that she's putting them at risk!! ] #[ also nobody deserves to interact w Hojo so AKFGHFJD ] #[ but...yeah; nothing like your whole life ] #[ being snatched away by other people ] #[ including the Remake details of her post Shinra escape ] #[ and that goddamn creep ] #[ her existence is love and friendship and so many things ] #[ but there's the understanding too that others want to pollute that ] #[ she tries to be SO STRONG for other ppl!!! ] #[ anyways...resolution depends on Remake continuity ] #[ or specific threads imo ] #[ someone REALLY needs to shake her by her shoulders and be like ] #[ ''no one blames you!! we just want you safe and happy!'' ] #HC; Aerith Gainsborough

[knittinglizards]

getting inordinately irritated by looking through tags for that and seeing people's opinions on the love triangle/central conflict

#p #yes julian's little trip cancelling his own show was a drama queen moment & made the situation worse but he DIDN'T try to stop her working #she shouldn't have had to choose! idk how u can blame anyone other than her BOSS who tried to prevent her from HAVING DINNER WITH OTHER PPL #or having like any life outside of work and throwing a tantrum when he found out she did anyway

[hungharrington]

a little less conversation, a little more action, please

[rings bell frantically] CALLING ALL PPL WHO HAD BAD SEX EXPERIENCES!!! if that’s you, this is for u :D ! this has been in the drafts 4 months and i’m excited to set it free! enjoy! 8k words, fem!reader, oral (f receiving) MDNI THIS ENTIRE BLOG IS 18+

You think you might be the only person your age in the whole of Hawkins who doesn’t seem to get the hype.

Couples have been caught all over in the act. At the drive-in cinema, in the back of the cinema, hell, even beneath the bleachers at school — tongues down each other's throats and pants around their ankles, so caught up in each other that they don’t care about consequences. That it’s that good, that it’s worth the risk. 

Sex. 

You just don’t get it.

Once upon a time, one boyfriend ago, before you’d ever experienced it, there had been an inkling of eagerness within you. Curiosity twined in with piqued interest, you wondered eagerly about when you’d find someone who’d show you all about why sex got its reputation. 

And then you had it— with Samuel Cosgrove in his twin bed when his parents were out of town, 3 weeks into dating him. Your expectations crumbled. 

You decided quickly that everyone must be lying if that was what you were supposed to be looking forward to. It wasn’t… sexy. You didn’t feel sexy having it either.

It only left you feeling somewhat awkward and a bit foolish, with Samuel trying to ruck your shirt up even though you had asked to keep it on. Embarrassment crept in easily at how you seemed to be half a step behind him the whole time, not quite warmed up, not quite sure if this was the mood, not quite ready to take all your clothes off. 

The springs on his bed were loud and squeaked with every shift of weight. The whole thing sort of hurt more than anything.

You chalked it up to the first time, dredging together your hopes even as they rapidly deflated inside you, cemented by Samuel’s sloppy kiss that missed your mouth and landed wetly on the corner of your lips when he finished. 

His sweat stuck to your skin and you didn’t feel sexy, or good, or relieved or anything else the dozen Cosmo magazines under your bed promised you would. 

Next time, you said to yourself. You had even confided in your close friend, admitting to the underwhelming experience, and asked quite plainly when it ‘got good’. 

“The first time always sucks!” She’d assured you, her voice a hushed whisper over the diner table.“Trust me, the first, like, three times totally suck.” 

You didn’t mean to but, subconsciously, three became the number to reach— get through the first three terrible times, and… all would be peachy in paradise. 

And so when the next time was… underwhelming, you weren’t exactly surprised. Worse, was how it wasn’t anything Samuel did but what he said that stuck with you long after he’d drifted off on your sheets. Lying in the cradle of your hips, Samuel had traced his hand up your legs and then frowned, yanking his hand back. You had startled, propping up quickly to ask him what it was. 

“You’re spiky,” he said, chuckling in a mean way. You could feel your chest ache pathetically at his words and you instinctively tried to curl your legs in, wanting to hide them away. So what if they were? It was the middle of winter and he’d surprised you, showing up at your window to sneak in. 

When the fourth time happened and disappointment weighed heavy on you again, you deduced the truth. Sex was some big scam- some stupid joke that everyone was in on and just pretending to enjoy. 

It was easier to blame sex if only so you didn’t blame yourself. But… it niggles in the back of your brain, a line-up of indisputable facts that all point to the same thing. That, maybe sex isn’t the problem — but you are. 

And, look, it’s not really a problem when you’re not dating or seeing anyone.

… Enter Steve Harrington.

Admittedly, Steve was not someone you thought you would ever date. Or maybe it was the other way around, that you thought that Steve would ever date you.

His reputation as a bit of a player was as far from something you were interested in, especially considering your feelings towards sex, but… he had sort of proven you wrong every chance possible.

One month of dates and it’s been no more than holding hands and kisses on cheeks. You’ve kissed him properly, of course, once or twice, but lest you give him the wrong idea, they hadn’t been much more than a quick kiss. Steve still seemed to glow afterward, no matter what. 

It made you feel good. Safe. Warmed you to know he was happy with whatever affection you felt ready to bestow, and never pushed for more. 

You could tell he wanted it. It was hidden in the flex of his fingers and even the not-so-subtle adjusting of his pants when he’d invited you over for a dip in his pool. You’d shown up in your bathing suit— and it was the most amount of skin Steve had ever seen from you and it did not go underappreciated. He had been touchy, hands skirting up your sides, but still respectful. 

And strangely enough, you find yourself… wanting it too. 

Wanting for his touch, thinking about letting your own hands wander across his skin to find what makes him sigh, makes him groan in pleasure, what might make him whine. It surprises you, the ferocity of your eagerness, how it presses your thighs together tightly and licks pure arousal up your spine — even when Steve’s not even trying. 

(He was, you just didn’t know it. Steve knows exactly when girls seem to be looking at his arms and he’s unashamed to say he will flex his muscles and pretend he hasn’t. Robin has caught him doing this several times.) 

And today has been nothing short of wonderful. 

A balmy Saturday which you found yourself swept up in Steve’s company over at his house, laziness fuelled by the golden sun rays of the day. 

You weren’t even doing anything in particular, just enjoying being near each other. You had stretched out on a pool lounger with a book in your hand for the most part and it was with giddy delight that Steve seemed more than chuffed to just lay beside you, sizzling in the sun and then occasionally cooling off in the pool. 

Which is a spectacle all in itself. 

The sight of his chest gives you one or two steamy ideas, especially as it drips with water when he pushes up on the edge of the pool. His biceps bulge deliciously as you peer over the edge of your book, not as subtlety as you might think. You honestly don’t even mind if he catches you staring, not when this is your view. 

Your eyes trace the sparkling drops of water as they roll down his chest tantalizingly slow, through the chest hair between his pecs, down, down, trailing down his happy trail— fuck, okay, he totally caught you staring. 

Your eyes dart back up to his face to find Steve’s already looking at you, his eyes holding a playful mirth to them. His smile looks just a little bit cheeky. Bastard. 

Water splatters on the tiles where he walks as he pads over to collect his towel bunched on the end of the lounger beside your own.

“Good book?” He asks sweetly.

He says it as he scrubs the towel over his face, drying it off and then starting on his hair— he gives it a quick rub over rapidly so that when he pulls the towel away, his hair is sticking up in every direction. He holds the towel to his chest and gives his head a quick shake, like a dog, shaking out the extra water.

When he looks up at you again, beginning to towel dry his bare chest, you realise you haven’t even attempted to answer his question. 

“Book.” You echo. Steve chuckles a little bit and it kickstarts your embarrassment, finally remembering to say something else. You hold the book up to gesture with it, “Yes! It’s good, it’s…” 

Steve’s resumed drying himself and you find your words leaving you as the towel drags down his tummy, leading your eyes with it. Your mouth feels suspiciously dry. Want. You want him.

“It’s…?” 

He’s teasing you again. You startle, wondering if he’s purposefully trying to put on a sensual towel-drying show for you. You’re surprised to find you’re actually glad that he is. 

It feels like another subtle way to affirm all his affections for you without all of the touchiness you’ve yet to reach with him — come and get me, it’s like he’s saying, if you want. 

You snap your book shut. “It’s too hot to be reading, I think.” 

Steve frowns in his worry and steps forward, closer to you. He presses the back of his hand to your forehead lightly. “You feelin’ too warm? Y’gotta careful being out here too long if you aren’t gonna swim.” 

He sounds on the concerned side but there’s a touch of cheek in his voice too, like he knows why you haven’t turned the page for the last 5 minutes. It stokes the firey feeling that’s beginning to burn in your gut. A smile curls at your lips and you huff a little laugh, leaning back and batting his hand away from your forehead. 

“Yes, mom.” You jest, hand falling back onto the lounger. You lean back onto it to get a better view of him. “I’m not too hot.” 

Steve grins. “Oh, I would say the opposite. You are, in fact,” He leans in closer, one hand coming up to push some hair behind your ear. His hand lingers, fingertips on the edge of your jaw. “Very hot.” 

You couldn’t stop your reaction if you tried— which you do try, some sputtering cough with a duck of your head as you feel your body flush hotly at his words. His forwardness is something you’re still getting used to.

Just as you’re about to stumble through a poorly constructed sentence, Steve saves you— reaching over to grab his rumpled t-shirt and pulling it over his head. A small, disappointed, part of you wilts. You catch yourself from being so obvious, scooping up your bookmark and stuffing it in a random page. 

Steve offers his hand out for you to take. “C’mon, we both need some water I think.” 

You ponder if there’s a second meaning to his words as you trail along beside him, letting him lead you back through the sliding glass doors that open to the kitchen with your intertwined hands. Steve gives your hand a quick squeeze before he drops it to open the fridge, peering inside. You lean back against the counter, arms folding loosely over your front and allow yourself to look at him. 

Your boyfriend. It sounds even a bit strange in your head and you know if you tried to say it aloud, it would get caught on the way out, tripping over your teeth. Calling him your boyfriend cements all those expectations you worry so much about… even though, not-so-secretly, you revel in the fact thats he’s your boyfriend. 

“Thinking hard over there, I can see,” Steve comments teasingly and you blink, realising he’s already looking at you. He must have asked you a question and you missed it. 

“What?” 

Steve laughs a bit, pink lips pulled into a slight smirk. He shakes the bottle in his hands a little bit, bringing your attention to it. “Did you want to try some of this? I think it’s sparkling and…” 

He trails off, pulling the bottle closer to his face to scan over the front of it. You can’t help but think the furrow in his brows as he reads is adorable. He hums, obviously not finding what he’s after, and flips the bottle over. 

“…raspberry flavour?” He finishes, looking up at you, brows raised. He gives a little shrug. “That sound nice?” 

You think about it for a moment and then shake your head. Steve laughs in agreement and places ii back in the fridge, some mumble about his mom leaving it here the last time she visited home. He turns back to the fridge still rummaging. “Okay, anything in particular you want?” 

You are thirsty but… your stomach swoops as you realise it’s for something else altogether. If you want it though, you’ll have to ask. 

“Maybe, a kiss?” 

Steve freezes for an instant, then he whips around like he’s not entirely sure he’s heard correctly. The fridge door clatters loudly and he quickly grabs it, stopping the rattling bottles and looking mighty flushed when he shoots you a grin. 

“A kiss?” He checks. He lets go of the fridge doors to scratch the back of his neck awkwardly, too aware of his own unsubtle eagerness. “I heard that right, didn’t I?” 

A nervous chuckle scrapes out your throat but you nod. You uncross your arms but can’t settle them, crossing them again nervously as Steve comes closer. His brown eyes scan your face intently, searching to make sure he’s getting every signal right. 

When you smile assuredly, Steve sighs in relief and his shoulders drop an inch. He smiles too, his hand reaching up to hold your faces cupping your cheek. His strokes across your cheekbone as he talks. “Oh, thank god. I was beginning to think, maybe, you just weren’t into kissing me.” 

Then he leans in— and you hold your breath without meaning to. 

The thing is, Steve is a good kisser. A very very good kisser and even your strange gaspy noise as you try to remember to breathe is not enough to ruin the kiss. His plush lips capture yours and have you feeling as hot as the day, a heat blooming in your chest and spreading like wildfire. Your fingers flex at your sides. 

You push up on your toes without even thinking, to steal more of his touch, and when Steve breaks the kiss, you’re embarrassed to find yourself chasing his lips. You clear your throat and avert your eyes, sinking back down— embarrassed at showing how much you’d melted under a single kiss. 

You just don’t realise how it looks to Steve. 

“You do… right?” 

Your head pops up, eyes widening as you try to comprehend his question. 

“Like… kissing you?” You ask meekly, more embarrassed that he’s asking for confirmation. Embarrassed that you’d somehow been overly eager and also convinced him of the opposite in one kiss. God, maybe there is something wrong with you. 

“Yeah.” Steve nods, pulling back a little further from you— like he needs physical space in case you say something absurd like ‘no.’ 

Your hands react faster than your mind, reaching to grab his shoulders to stop him from putting space between you. 

“Yes!” You say loudly. You try to rein in your embarrassment for his sake, swallowing your nerves which feel thick and swollen in your throat. “Yes, I like kissing you. It’s just, I’m… I’m worried.” 

How do you say this? How can you explain that you’ve been so afraid of your kisses going a few steps further because then- then when things get heated and Steve’s expecting things, you have to explain that — that what? 

That you’re not really sure if you even like sex, or maybe that it just doesn’t seem to work for you or — or that there’s probably just something wrong with you that means you can’t figure out how the hell to relax and enjoy sex- and that it’s not his fault but probably totally yours but— 

“Woah, woah, woah,” Steve cuts into your spiralling thoughts, having seen the dilemma spilled across your face. “Stop thinking what you’re thinking and just, like, take a breather.” 

He places his hand on his chest and mimes a deep inhale. You copy him without thinking, chest rising and falling in sync with his, unable to look at him for a moment. When you find the courage to dredge your eyes up to his face, his eyes are soft and his brows have knitted together in concern. 

“Good.” He praises, hand falling off his chest to rub gently at your arm. “Okay, now instead of doing all that worrying up there just… tell me what’s worrying you. Please?” 

Part of you want to huff and hide, to make him really pry so you know that he means it. It’s dramatic, you know — especially because he’s being so good at communicating. He’s asked outright. You try to put the words in the correct order. 

“Just… we haven’t— I haven’t kissed you a lot because I’m worried about what it might lead to.” You say quietly, eyes back to avoiding his gaze. You stare at his chest, the tuft of chest hair peeking out, and do your best to swallow the knot in your throat. 

“And I— I don’t want to disappoint you,” you admit, frustrated at how a familiar sting burns at the back of your eyes. “But I- just, in the times I’ve gone that far and— and slept with someone, I didn’t… I just didn’t like it. I didn’t enjoy it.” 

You squeeze your eyes shut tight, proclamation out in the open, and try to take a deep breath— just like Steve had instructed mere moments ago. Courage gathered, you open your eyes and peer up at him again. 

“Oh,” Steve breathes. You can nearly see the cogs turning in his head, his eyebrows twitching as he takes in what you’ve said and what it means for the two of you. “Oh, well that’s okay. I mean, if you didn’t want to I would never—“ 

“—That’s not the thing.” You interrupt. “I want to. I do. I just…” Your voice trails off, taking on a  trembling whisper as you say the thing you’ve yet to say aloud yet, for fear of speaking it into existence. You can’t quite look at him, eyes focused on the kitchen tiles instead. 

“I think it’s me. I think— I’m worried there’s something wrong with me.” 

Your words hang in the air for a moment and Steve feels his worry shift into something deeper, something closer to devastation, as he realises how deeply you believe what you’ve said. 

You genuinely think there is— even thinking it makes him want to scoff aloud. He forces himself to focus on consoling you here and now, instead of riling himself up with thoughts of whatever— whoever lead you to your immense self-doubt. 

“Well, there’s not,” Steve says plainly. Like there’s no room for discussion— his hand drifting down your arm to gather your hands in his own. They get swallowed, his hands huge when compared to your own. 

“There’s nothing wrong— you- you could never disappoint me in that way.” 

Your eyes lift from the ground to his face, desperate to see if you can see the truth in his words. He can tell- fuck, he can already read you so well. 

“Honest,” He insists, giving your hands a quick squeeze. “I promise you, okay? I- if I was disappointed over something like that it would be- that would be such a dick move.” 

“Well, you wouldn’t be the first.” You mutter bitterly. 

The words slip out without entirely meaning to; you aren’t trying to start a pity party but how are you supposed to explain why you think the way you do? How can you explain why you’re so worried about taking it further? Deep down, you know he deserves to know. 

Steve’s eyes widen for a moment, your words sinking in and cutting as they go. He doesn’t want to think about you sleeping with other people, for all the jealous reasons, but mainly because everything he’s learned today is that nobody has taken proper care of you. 

It twists his heart thinking of some fucking idiot not taking his time with you, not getting you comfortable— so that you get to this point, embarrassed, avoiding his eyes, and so entirely convinced that you’re the problem. 

“Look,” Steve says softly. His hands squeeze yours again and he tries to think of how best to say this. “If we never sleep together, I don’t care.” 

That catches your attention, your head jerking up to look at him — what? That has never even been an option with dating someone. Not in your mind, at least. You find yourself reeling, fumbling for words but Steve just keeps talking. 

“If you don’t wanna, I don’t wanna,” Steve shrugs, like that’s all there is to it.

“There’s nothing wrong if it’s not really your thing.” Another squeeze to your hands. You look up at him, aware you must look a picture of bewildered — there were a thousand ways you imagined this conversation going and this was not one of them. 

A smile pulls on his lips as he chuckles a bit, eyes falling to your conjoined hands. “Hell, for all we know I’d add to your disappointing experiences.” 

You laugh quietly but it’s saturated in fondness. He’s taking jabs at himself to make you feel better. 

“Hardly likely, considering the rumours I’ve heard about you,” You murmur lowly. You find it in yourself to squeeze his hands back, peering back up at him. Steve’s brows rise and he grins. 

“Oh? And just what rumours are we talking about?” He teases. 

“Shut up,” You say, no heat behind it in the slightest. Your chest is starting to feel lighter and lighter as the reality of his words sink in. “You know what they say about you.” 

Steve grins wider. “That I slept with Mrs. Click just to pass her class?” 

“What?” You wrinkle your nose at the horrid picture of your old English teacher with your boyfriend. “No! Did people really say that about you?” 

Steve’s grin fades, edging towards jaded. He gives a soft sigh, tilting his head back an inch. “People say everything and it all means nothing unless it’s coming from the right person.” 

He wriggles a hand free from your unaware tightening holding to brush his knuckles against your cheek tenderly. A piece of hair flops over his forehead, curling back upwards, and the buzz of cicadas fills the empty noise around you.

“So, I don’t know if some asshole told you or you just think that you’re wrong, but…” Steve inhales, his eyes darting between yours. 

The brown in them is intense, holding you fixed beneath his heavy gaze. “If— just you said you want to so, we can try and- and we can go slow and I’ll stop the moment you want to, okay? For whatever reason.” 

You feel a strange bubble of hope churn in your gut. It feels too good to be true. 

“…You’re sure?” 

“M’sure,” Steve nods. “Even for something as small as you don’t like the way my dick looks or—“ 

A laugh startles out of you and you shake your head. “I meant more about stopping but good to know anyways.” You pause a moment. “…Should I be worried?” 

You’re teasing. Steve delights in it, his own voice slipping that little bit lower— his knuckles on your cheek swiping across, down your jaw, til he lingers near your neck. 

“Why don’t you find out?” 

The hunger in your tummy returns with a new heat, rivalling the day. You suddenly feel nervous again, a roll of nerves turning over, but this time it feels far closer to anticipation. The kiss you’ve been yearning to give him, hot and messy, burns up inside you and when you rise on your toes, Steve meets you in the middle. 

Your lower back presses against the counter as Steve leans into you, his mouth slotted against yours. One kiss snowballs into another, and another, the fervency growing as you let yourself give into your desire. Your hands on his shoulders shift, trailing down to feel up the chest you’ve been gawking at all day.

Steve lets out a quiet grunt as your nails dig in and his other hand finds your waist, tugging you to press against his body — his other hand slides into your hair, clutching the strands loosely. You sigh into his mouth, nerves still alight beneath your skin but the way they buzz makes you feel good. Steve makes you feel good. 

Right as his hand scrapes along your lower back, heading lower, you’re both startled by the loud beep! that sounds in the kitchen. At the same time you peer around him, Steve turns and gives a sheepish chuckle, seeing the fridge door still ajar from when he’d been fishing around inside. 

He steps away from you, pushing the doors closed gently. Turning back, your chest swells with pride seeing the effect you’re already having on him; red lips, shiny with spit and a faint ruby colour in the apples of his cheeks. Steve smiles, boyish and charming. 

“Do you wanna keep—“ 

“—yes.”

You’re not going to squander this chance, not going to waste the days' chemistry when there’s still that tiny worry niggling in the back of your brain that today is all a fluke. That Steve’s words might just be an offer, something else that wouldn’t be a first for you. 

Steve grins. He holds out his hand and you intertwine yours with him, letting him lead you. Your stomach swoops as he takes you out the kitchen and heads for the stairs, checking back on you with a quick glimpse. You do your best to show him your excitement instead of your nerves. You’re not sure you succeed. 

Squeezing his hand does the trick for a final reassurance. Steve resumes leading you up the stairs, taking a familiar turn towards his bedroom, beginning to talk softly as he does. 

“Remember, anytime, anything you don’t like, just say the word.” 

You both pause, standing in his room and you swallow the doubts that try to claw back up your throat. Giving a sly glance at him, you smile coyly and wiggle your hand out from his. Trailing backwards to his bed, you pretend to think about it, til your thighs hit the edge of the bed. 

“Hmm… well,” You begin, a touch of sultriness dipping into your voice. “I don’t like… that you’re still wearing your shirt.” 

Before you, Steve huffs a silent laugh, that handsome smile gracing his lips as he ducks his head. He doesn’t disappoint though, his arms reaching up behind his head to shuck his shirt off in one fluid motion.

He chucks it aside thoughtlessly and where it lands doesn’t even matter — your eyes are fixed on his chest. His bare chest that you’ve been given permission to properly ogle at. You swear you feel your mouth salivate a bit. 

“Should've known this would go first, considering the way you were drooling outside,” Steve remarks cockily, folding his arms loosely. It makes his biceps bulge and you swallow again, this time nothing to do with nerves. 

“I wasn’t drooling,” You defend weakly, beginning to fidget with the hem of your own shirt. “I was admiring, okay? There’s a difference.” 

Steve saunters over slowly as you talk, steps slow and measured. He’s smirking by the time he’s before you, so close you can feel the heat of him. “Uh huh. Totally, sweetheart, I believe you. Need help with this?” 

His hand has reached out, fingers pinching the same hem you’re fiddling with. You nod slowly, “Yes, please.” 

Steve’s smirk fades into something sweeter and he grabs the hem with two hands, beginning to ruck it up gently, his eyes locked on yours — you raise your arms when it starts to get caught, holding your gaze to his until the fabric intersects. Your arms drop and you push away the urge to wrap them around your middle. 

Steve drops your shirt much more gently than his own but his eyes are still entirely on you. There’s a shine of awe in them now, flicking up at down the newly exposed skin. 

The intensity of his gaze makes you want to shy away but you chose bravery instead, reaching out to grab his side. Steve jumps, barely an inch, and before you even get a chance to question, he’s smiling. “Y’got cold hands, honey.” 

He draws them up to his mouth, laying soft kisses across your knuckles. Heat flushes through you and you melt beneath it, lowering yourself back on the bed. Steve follows eagerly, still kissing at your hands. He kneels between your legs and when he finally drops your hands from his, it’s to reach out and cup your jaw. 

“Keep breathing,” He murmurs quietly, eyes dancing in amusement. You hadn’t even realise you had been holding your breath. You realise it in one big exhale and this time, when you reach for him, you actually succeed in tugging him closer. You tumble backward into his sheets and Steve comes with you, his forearms planted on either side of you and his body pressed up against yours. 

“I don’t like…” You say, continuing the bit from earlier, your voice quiet and still tinged with a poorly hidden nervousness. “That you keep waiting to kiss me.” 

Steve’s brows hike up an inch but his smile hides his surprise easily, his entire face glowing a bit brighter. He looks fucking gorgeous bathed in the buttery sunlight, even though it’s just beginning to fade towards darkness behind the curtains. 

You stare unabashedly up at him, marvelling at his features that are etched in with adoration for you. You follow down the strong line of his nose, along the soft arches in his eyebrows, the faint wrinkles at the corners of his eyes that he has from smiling. 

You study the swell of his cupids bow perched above his pink lips and each of the moles dotted all over your favourite face— and think to yourself it’s not fucking fair that he looks like this. Like he’s been carved from marble and cast in gold. 

Thank God he’s yours. 

He doesn’t disappoint you — his lips finding yours and kissing you deeply, his chest brushing your own. Your entire body seems to sigh at the touch, tingling with anticipation — you’ve been overdue for all these kisses for far too long and it seems once you’ve gotten started, it feels impossible to stop.

You kiss needily, your hands moving off his midriff to drift up to his jawline. You cradle it gently, your lips a little less gentle- you try to remember how to do this, how to nip at his lips teasingly, how to soothe them with your tongue. 

Slowly, Steve’s body weight lowers onto you as he focuses more and more on figuring out what you seem to like. Time melts like candle wax and you feel as goopy as it too, all warm and pliable, softened by his kisses. Heat begins to simmer in your gut. You don’t know how long you’ve been kissing when Steve pulls away, his mouth cherry red and his face flushed. 

His fingers slip beneath the strap of your bra, toying with it but nothing more. He checks over your face as he asks, “Wanna take this off?” 

You nod, breathlessly. Up til now, it’s been easy to turn off your brain and let all your thoughts revolve around getting kissed absolutely stupid by Steve. 

But as his hands work deftly beneath you, unclipping the strap of your bra and beginning to tug it down, you feel the first worry creep in — this is usually when your panties follow, then his boxers, and then the expectations. Even with all your enjoyment, you know that if he tries now, you won’t be ready. 

Frustration bubbles up in your chest, mingling with your insecurity and you squirm a bit, trying to think of how to tell Steve without disappointing him. 

You’re so sick of disappointing people for something you can’t seem to help. 

Steve notices your squirming. His head shoots up to meet your gaze, a furrow back in his brow. “Hey, hey, what’s goin’ on?” 

“I…” Words die on your tongue easily, a war happening inside your throat as you debate what to say. You like him— you really like him and don’t want this to end and… he told you he wants you to tell the truth. 

“I don’t… I’m not—“ Your whisper climbs in volume alongside your frustration. “Steve, this isn’t working.” 

The wrinkle between his brow deepens and it’s not a comforting sight. Steve shifts a bit, his hand moving from the straps of your bra up to your face. He pushes back a few stray locks of hair, eyes sincere. 

“Not working?” He murmurs, “Baby, we’ve only just started.” 

You blink up at him once, twice. Your mouth opens and then closes again. 

You know that but you also know how this goes. Well, you think you know— so why do you suddenly feel so foolish? 

“Oh.” You say shyly. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip and try to ignore feeling like you’ve just ruined the mood. 

Steve takes it all in his stride, nothing but a twitch in his furrows brows as he takes in your embarrassed expression. He leans down, and kisses your neck, then your collarbone. His lips trail down, down, slow and sensual. Your bra scraps down your arms, tossed aside absentmindedly.

“Sweet girl,” he whispers into your skin. “I’m so sorry.” 

“Sorry?” You echo, a bit breathier as Steve's kisses scrape down your breast. Your nipples peak to attention.

“Mhm,” he hums, his lips wrapping around your nipple and sucking— his hands paw greedily at your back which arches eagerly into his kisses. Steve drags his mouth off, beginning to mouth softly down your breast til his plush lips kiss at your sternum. 

“M’sorry that nobody has ever taken care of you before.”

You squirm beneath him at his words, a warm flush washing through your body as desire spins up inside you. Steve continues as if he hasn’t turned your whole view inside-out— his hand shifting up to thumb at your nipple as he takes your nipple back between his lips. 

“Steve…” you sigh out. 

He’s kneading your body in just the right way, the sensitivity of your chest fuelling the pool of heat growing deep in your stomach. You feel your thighs clench together, hips shifting up instinctively. You haven’t been touched like this before and fuck, it’s a lot. 

“I know, honey.” He says lowly, voice muffled against your skin. He suckles at your nipple and just nips at it, a flash of teeth, enough to make you arch further. Your eyes slip shut and you push your chest further out. 

To your disappointment, Steve pulls back instead. Your eyes open, neck craning to look at him, your chest rising and falling with your heavy breaths.

“Y’tell me if there’s anything you don’t like, alright?” 

Somehow, the heat in your gut flares that much hotter — knowing that there’s love behind every motion. You scramble for threads of courage and hold them tightly. Then you bend your legs until you can slide them around his waist, ankles crossing and tugging him closer. His cock, straining in his pants, presses flush against your core, and at the same time you inhale, Steve stutters out a groan. 

“I’ll tell you.” You say, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip to hold back your grin. It melts away as Steve shifts against you purposefully, one of his hands dropping to hold your hip. The hard length of him grinds against your cunt, catching the angle of your clit in a way that makes you mewl beneath him. 

Steve kisses your breast again but your hands are already reaching for him— fingers cupping his jaw to tug him up. Your lips capture his and this time, when he rolls his hips into yours, the soft noise you make is swallowed in his kiss. It’s fervent, your kisses gaining speed and mess. You tighten your ankles and experiment with your grind and are rewarded with a jagged moan from Steve. 

Faintly, you consider how it makes a little more sense now. That all those desperate motions of making out, rutting against each other, hot open-mouth kisses— fuck, if it was always like this, you get it. You feel like you’re on fire. 

A breeze flutters the curtains across the room, the only indication of time outside your little bubble. It’s far too easy to get lost in the motions— building up your lust until you’re sure the cotton between your legs is soaked through. It feels silly but god, even though you knew this was one of the things making all those past times so terrible, you had just assumed that’s how it would always be. 

The stickiness feels vulgar, your cunt pulsating with heat like you’ve never felt before. It just makes it all feel better though— the warm, hard heat of Steve’s cock, fitting snug between your folds. 

A pause in the makeout to catch your breath. You’re huffing wildly and Steve takes the moment of his undistracted attention to focus on the shorts you’re wearing. He doesn’t ask verbally this time but as he hooks his fingers beneath the waistband, his eyes flash up to yours in question. 

You wiggle your hips and Steve takes his cue, the fabric scraping against your skin as it slides down, down, down. To your surprise, Steve goes with them. He gets halfway down the bed, his head aligned with your belly, hands kneading at the flesh of your boobs before he halts. 

“I wanna try something,” He says, looking up at you. He dots a quick kiss onto your skin as he does, not breaking eye contact. “And I think you’re gonna really love it.” 

He drags out the word really, his voice low enough that it rumbles, nearly a purr. 

“It involves a little bit of this.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss into your navel. He kisses nice and slow, the plushness of his lips scraping across the stretch of skin. 

You shiver a little, feeling how your thighs part instinctively and Steve smiles wickedly, seeing the motion. 

“A little—“ He travels further down, his hands sliding to hold the outside of your thighs. He grips the skin and urges it to spread wider— then takes a greedy fat lick along your inner thigh. “—of this.” 

You squirm. It’s unnerving in the best way, having someone so dedicated to making you feel good— but Steve’s face betrays no hint of insincerity. In fact, if you had to guess, you’d say he even looks excited. 

His large tan hands cover your hips, slender fingers curved atop your thighs to keep them pried open. You’re expecting the next question to be getting the final scrap of clothing off you— a mixture of nerves and excitement at the vulnerability that comes with taking them off. 

He doesn’t though. Drawing a line with the tip of his nose, he nuzzles down from the inside of your knee to your thigh, the warmth of his breath fanning across sensitive skin. He kisses your cunt, once, soft. You twitch, a sweet noise pushing past your lips. 

Steve does it again. This time, his lips part and you feel his tongue press through the soaked cotton of your panties — he kisses again, harder, moving over your clit with his tongue. This time you moan and feel your hips tip up to chase his mouth, surprising yourself. 

Fuck, when have you ever been this wet before? The cotton between your legs is sticky and it only gets messier with Steve’s every lick. The duvet crinkles beneath you as you sigh and sink into it, the low throb of pleasure curling up in your gut. 

“Steve,” you sigh his name like it’s a prayer. 

He hums against your core, his fingers gliding beneath the elastic of your panties but not pulling them down just yet. His hot mouth drops lower, his nose pressing into you at the perfect angle. Your breathy exhale is lilted with moans. 

“See?” He murmurs, so low you nearly don’t hear him. 

“S’Nothing wrong with you, sweetheart. Y’just needed…“ His fingers grip your panties and begin to pull and you aid him quickly with a lift of your hips. “…someone to take a little more care with you.” 

Any fear of vulnerability is whirled far away; you need his mouth back on you, like, yesterday. Especially when Steve groans. Like the sight of your glistening cunt is enough to make his cock ache. Your tummy heats further at the thought. 

His hands re-situate, soothing up to your tummy before sliding back down to grasp the tops of your thighs again. He pulls them open wider. 

Pure fire streaks through your nerves, a sweltering pleasurable burn twisting in your gut as Steve’s tongue licks through your folds in one bold stroke. Your hips try to twitch forward but his hands are already there, holding them down. 

There’s one more pause, one soft curse of adoration, as his nose nuzzles along the soft skin of your inner thigh. You feel unbearably warm in his sheets, heat pulsating and dancing beneath your skin. 

“Steve,” you whisper his name again, urging him gently. “Please.” 

“I got you,” He murmurs in response.  “You don’t gotta say please with me,” He hums lowly, then kisses right on your clit, languid and warm, his tongue swirling around it deftly. You cry out softly. 

He drags his mouth off you and if you looked down, you’d see the soft sheen of your slick on his rosy lips. “I wanna give you everything you want.” 

You gasp as he finally puts his mouth on you properly, pleasure dribbling through your core as he suckles on your clit. He’s killer with his tongue, twisting it and flattening it against your bud in a way that has you squirming. The sheets scrunch in your frenzied grip. 

For the first time, you understand why pornos even sound like that— taking a moment to realise the whiney gaspy noise you’re hearing is coming from you. 

“Oh god,” You whine prettily. “That’s— uh— fuck, that’s really good.” 

Between your thighs, you hear and feel the moan Steve gives back. Your thighs are twitching, torn between trying to keep them apart or warm your boyfriend's ears. Your hips are moving, subtle grinds up into Steve’s face and he takes it all appreciatively. He sucks and slurps, tongue dragging down your folds to toy at your clenching hole— making you squeal. 

“Fuck,” he rasps, pulling back for a moment. His voice is doused in arousal. “You’re so wet.” 

Heat plumes low in your tummy as he dives back in, a groan echoing from his throat. The coil in your gut tightens, winding tighter and tighter. Your chest heaves as your voice melts away until everything you say is a whimpery little “yes, yes, yes,” and Steve’s name. 

His huge hands are still pressing your thighs apart but one shifts suddenly, barely noticeable in your mounting euphoria, until it’s tapping at your hand fisted in the sheets. 

You lift your head, confused, and peer down at him. 

It’s a mistake. His hand is resting on the bed in front of your own, propped up and fingers spread. It's clear he wants to hold your hand. Chest heaving and still lightly moaning, your eyes dart from his hand to his face — and that’s the mistake. 

He’s fucking beautiful. Hair mussed, rosy-cheeked, and dark-eyed, Steve can only hold eye contact for a moment before his eyelids slip shut as he moans against your cunt. Fire blooms under your skin, coil turned tighter and together. He wants to hold your hand. Your fingers just manage to tangle with Steve’s, holding tight, as you tip over the edge with a cry. 

It’s intense — jagged waves of pleasure that ride through every nerve in your body and have you nearly overwhelmed with how fucking good it feels. Incoherent babbling whines pour from your mouth. Your thighs lock up, beating Steve’s strong hold now that he’s down to just one hand, and close around his head. He moans in response, his tongue never letting up, licking and sucking at your cunt fervently. 

And he holds your hand the whole way through. 

You feel thoroughly flattened by the time your orgasm tapers off, your legs relaxing and flopping tiredly against the bed. Vaguely, you’re aware you should apologise for likely cutting off his oxygen flow for a good couple of seconds there but you’re too out of breath yourself to do so. 

Your chest rises and falls and a sweet contentment settles into your skin. You feel happy, loved. Without meaning to, an awed laugh titters out of you. 

Then another, and another. You can’t seem to stop laughing, a gleeful silly joy as you release his hand to bury your face in your own. 

“Holy shit,” you whisper to yourself. Then, slightly louder. “Holy shit, Steve.” 

You hear him laugh and the sheets crinkle — and then he’s in your field of vision, hovering over you with an adoring grin on his face. His lips are still so pink and there’s a shine on his chin. He wipes it away absentmindedly, focused on you. 

“I take it you enjoyed yourself?” He says, genuine and not at all cocky. He settles down, one arm on either side of your chest. One of his hands sweeps over your face sweetly. 

You nod, tucking your bottom lip behind your teeth to constrain your grin. 

“Uh huh,” you say, voice all gooey. “I didn’t—“ 

You pause. “I thought— and then you— and Oh my Goddd.” You cover your face with your hands again, groaning exaggeratedly as you try to roll over and melt away into his bed sheets. 

“See? I told you it wasn’t you,” Steve says, peppering little kisses where he can reach. He kisses your shoulder, along the side of your face. He coaxes you out gently, pressing your shoulder to roll you onto your back. You face him properly.

“There is nothing wrong with you.” He reminds you. You’ve never been so happy to be wrong. You nod, hair scrunching against the pillow behind you. 

“Okay,” You say, with a small smile, finally believing it. “There’s nothing wrong with me.” 

Steve’s stare is glowing with fondness and the next moment, he’s lurching forward to press his mouth to yours. You kiss back greedily and lazily all at once.

He pulls back and you hate how the thought comes to you, unbidden; the smallest wrinkle creasing between your brows. 

“But,” You begin, voice small. “That wasn’t sex though.” 

Steve’s head tilts an inch, like an adorably confused puppy. “What do you mean? That was sex.” 

“What? That was— that was like second base.”

Steve huffs a laugh, though not directed at you. His gaze shifts above your head as he chooses his words. “Uhh, sure, if we were still in high school. But even then, that’s still sex. We just had some sex.” 

Stating it so plainly, you can’t help how it makes you giggle a bit. Steve rolls his eyes, even though you can tell he’s entirely endeared. 

“We just had sex,” You repeat his words, eyes bright and grin growing. “And I really enjoyed it.” 

Steve laughs loudly and steals a quick kiss from you. Holding up his hand, he wiggles his eyebrows at you. “Just had sex high-five?” He jokes. 

You slap your hand against his anyways, twisting your fingers to hold onto his hand as you let them fall to the bed. Steve beams, cuddling in closer, the tip of his nose nuzzling against your own. 

Turns out, you might be starting to get the whole big deal around sex after all. 

#uhm. basically don’t read into this #who minds a little (or a whooooole lot) of projection! #not me! :D #🧌…. part two? #steve harrington smut #steve x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x you #steve x you #steve x reader smut #steve harrington #jay writes

[mysicklove]

Summary: Going to the fair with older brother Sukuna and toddler Yuuji was bound to cause some sort of trouble. But it was the tiger plushies' fault, not yours!

cw: fem! reader, curse words, sukuna almost hits someone with a ball, sukuna gives bad advice, sukuna threatens ppl, mentions of kidnapping, metaphors that dont make any sense

wc: 4.1k

a/n: i will post the prequel to all of this next! but I thought this was a silly way to show more dynamics between reader n sukuna! hope u guys like it <3

big brother au masterlist + taglist

It was Yuuji’s idea to go to the annual fair. You thought it was a great idea – it was an opportunity to get Yuuji out of the house, and the idea of seeing the toddler giggling on the children’s rides sent you off to your computer and buying three tickets. 

Sukuna was not very fond of the idea, but you could have guessed that. He preferred to go to the fair with just you, but if Yuuji heard, he would probably throw a mini tantrum, and that would just be more work for Sukuna. So alas, it ended up being you three (as it usually was).

Yuuji was beyond excited when the three of you arrived, and Sukuna grips at the boy’s hood, sparing you a glance and rolling his eyes. “We need to get him a leash.”

You grin at him, scoffing but jumping slightly when an older boy shoves past him, making the toddler stumble backward. You grab Sukuna’s hand before he tries to yell at the other child and then pull Yuuji close to you. “There,” you sigh, successfully holding onto both of the brothers, “We all stick together. Don't get separated from us, Yuuji.”

“No running away!” he chirps, and you smile, nodding at him. Immediately Yuuji is distracted by all the flashing lights, and Sukuna has to hold onto the back of his hood to prevent him from accidentally wandering away. Sukuna claims the boy is just dying to get kidnapped, while you blame it on the toddler’s curiosity.

You guys make your way to the children’s side of the park, having to cover Yuuji’s eyes a multitude of times so that he doesn’t see the other rollercoasters. He was still talking about how excited he was to go on the rollercoaster that goes upside down a whopping three times – a rollercoaster boys of the age of four are not allowed to go on. Telling him would probably make him cry, so distractions worked better. Luckily, there were enough lights and stuffed animals around that pointing to something while you scurry past the rollercoasters distract Yuuji for long enough.

The first ride you guys made around to had an influx of people, but they all did, so the three of you stood in line listening to Sukuna’s complaints. Yuuji talked to the little girl who was also waiting in line just in front of him. Sukuna glares at you, listening to the children shriek and feeling the multitude of bodies pressed near him. “We are going home after this one.”

“No, we aren’t. Lighten up!” You try to encourage, rubbing his arm, and trying to ignore his displeased expression. “We are at the fair – look how much fun Yuuji is having.”

He glances at the boy, who, like always, is in the other child's personal space. He was clinging onto the girl’s arm and jumping up and down in excitement while the young girl looked overwhelmed. Sukuna pulls the boy’s hood, causing Yuuji to come tumbling backward. The boy, in return, merely cocks his head to the side, confused as to what he did wrong.

“Keep doing shit like that, and no girls are ever going to like you,” Sukuna reprimands, letting go of the red hood. 

Yuuji frowns, still confused, and you step in, immediately crouching down to his level. “Remember what we talked about? Personal space, Yuuji. You got to give your friend some space to breathe, sweetheart.”

The boy nods, looking at the concrete floor – even if your tone is nice, no child likes to be scolded. But Sukuna just pushes him back over to the girl, ignoring the way he trips and falls, but immediately gets back up. The two children go back to their conversation, but this time Yuuji holds onto Sukuna’s leg so that he doesn’t accidentally get too close.

Sukuna turns his attention back toward you. “Do you think they will take him in?” His head tilts to the parents of the girl.

You roll your eyes but smile. “Uh-huh, and if they did, who would you use as an excuse to go on your favorite ride, the Kiddie Coaster”

“The more you speak, the more you tempt me to just leave you both here,” Sukuna says, but there was no real threat to his words. He leans back on the metal bar handles. “Ah, how peaceful life would be without the brat spouting bullshit. Just the empty house and I, what a dream.”

You lean back on the adjacent metal, crossing your legs and sighing whimsically. “Ah, I can see it now,” you start, and Sukuna raises his eyebrow. “You are gone, and me, Yuuji, and Choso are traveling the world together. What a beautiful lifestyle without hearing any complaints.”

“Ah, and then I hunt you three down and lock you up so that you three can never have fun without me. And I live happily ever after, still alone.” 

You wonder what the couple behind you are thinking, considering they are probably close enough to hear whatever you guys are saying. But ridiculous conversations like these were common for the two of you. They never had real meaning behind the teasing words, especially since when the three of you began to load up on the small rollercoaster, Sukuna very quickly forced his lips onto yours and gives you a cocky grin before loading up next to Yuuji. And that was all the reassurance you needed – sadly, you dont get the last word, this time at least.

You two didn’t even try to sit next to each other, knowing that either way, Yuuji would demand to be placed in between you two. The boy was grinning like a madman, kicking his feet out and wishing that the ride would start sooner. Just before the ride started, Sukuna had made a teasing remark that the boy wasn’t strapped in properly, and could possibly fall out. You were lucky Yuuji was in such a great mood because the second you shut that ridiculous idea down, he immediately went back to giggling with excitement.

And a minute and a half later, the ride was over, and the toddler had more energy than before. He was practically buzzing with excitement, jumping up and down and reenacting how fast the rollercoaster was going with his hands and mouth sound effects.

You nod the entire time, smiling while the toddler babbles on about how much fun the rollercoaster was. It was adorable to watch, to say the least, and you were excited to take him on the next one. 

Sukuna was not excited to stand in line next to children again. He grabs you by the wrist and drags you over to where the fair games are located. Yuuji grabs onto your own shirt and continues to talk to you while the two of you are basically getting pulled into an unknown location. 

Eventually, Yuuji found himself in awe at the giant tiger stuffed animal that hung from the top of one of the tents. He was pointing to it and squealing for Sukuna to get it for him, and at first, Sukuna rolled his eyes and immediately said no, but then he also saw you staring at it. He taps your shoulder with his, rough enough to snap you out of your thoughts. “You really want the stuffed animal? That shit is for babies.”

“You are a pretty shitty boyfriend,” you sigh, not really taking what he said to heart, but still Sukuna immediately denies it. You ignore him and pet the child’s pink hair. “It’s for Yuuji.”

“I’ll win you the stuffed animal.”

“Win Yuuji the stuffed animal.”

“Tiger! Tiger! Tiger!”

Sukuna narrows his eyes at the two of you and then turns back over to the man hosting the game. He hands him some cash and mumbles, “If you scam me, I’ll kill you.” but the music paired with the abundance of people talking made it too loud for the worker to hear his threat. 

The man hands him three balls, and the goal is to knock down a stack of metal cans. Easy enough, but this was a fair game, so there was bound to be some sort of trick to it. A trick that Sukuna does not know.

You and Yuuji stand a couple of feet behind him, cheering him on. Yuuji was now being held by you, sitting on your hip and pumping his fists in the air at the mere idea of owning the giant plush. 

But, as you suspected, Sukuna did not win. He had managed to knock down two cups, and the last ball went flying past the man’s nose when he tried to taunt Sukuna. You could have guessed that would happen. 

This time, you are the one to drag Sukuna because if you didn’t, surely that poor worker would have a broken nose by now. It was their job to taunt people, a part of the fun, but your boyfriend’s temper did not stand for that.

Yuuji was surprisingly fine with it – of course, he did look a little sad about losing the opportunity of owning the tiger, but in the next moment he was fawning over how strong his brother was. He was gripping onto Sukuna’s pants, while the man was borderline glaring at everyone that walks by. “So cool, Kuna! You threw so fast!”

You have to hold back a laugh the entirety of it because only Sukuna would be genuinely upset over losing a fair game. But you remain quiet and let Yuuji continue to babble on to his older brother. 

Finally, after some time, Sukuna does look at his younger brother. He turns to him and grabs at his little shoulders. “This is a learning opportunity, so listen up, little brat,” he starts, and you furrow your eyebrows. Yuuji immediately perks up, ready to absorb anything his idol says. “Never trust anything. Life is a scam, and people are always trying to fuck you over.”

“Okay, yeah, so no. Yuuji–”

“Everybody is trying to steal your tiger.” Sukuna talks louder than you, and at this point, Yuuji’s eyes are wide as saucers. “Dont trust anyone or anything. Understand?”

Yuuji nods, not understanding anything that his brother is saying but trying to appease him. You pinch the bridge of your nose, also knowing that the boy is too young to understand anything. “That’s horrible advice. You are going to give him trust issues. And what’s with the tiger?”

“It’s a metaphor.”

You stare incredulously at your boyfriend. “Metaphor for what? That’s the worst metaphor I have ever heard.”

Sukuna shrugs. “Metaphor for life. Maybe you aren’t smart enough to keep up with my intellectual comparisons.” He holds a teasing smile, waiting for your own bite back.

“I dont want my tiger stolen!” Yuuji pipes up, and you spare him a glance, shaking your head and reassuring him that his tiger plush, which he does not own, will not be stolen from him. Sukuna continues to taunt him, and the two of you begin to bicker back and forth. Not with harmful intent, simply mindlessly arguing over something stupid such as a tiger plushie and the definition of metaphors.

Yuuji doesn’t say anything, head whipping back and forth to try and keep up with the conversation that he barely understands. But, eventually, after a minute of listening, he grows bored with the lack of attention on him, so he raises his hand and says, “I need to go potty!”

Sukuna groans, knowing that you will now be preoccupied with the boy again and has successfully lost your attention to a toddler. But you ignore the man and pick the boy up again, slightly frowning at him. “You need to go to the bathroom?”

“Uh-huh!”

Sukuna makes a show of how annoyed he is, but he also needs to go, so he doesn't complain too much. The three of you walk over to the moveable trailers that house the restrooms, with Yuuji holding your hand behind you as he points to every tiger stuffed animal you guys see on the way. 

When the three of you arrive, you nod at Sukuna before walking yourself and Yuuji over to the women’s restroom. The boy always came with you, being too young to go into the males alone. 

But Sukuna loves to make a show, so the second the two of you start walking in the opposite direction from him, he says, “Brat, where do you think you are going?”

Yuuji turns to him, still holding onto your hand, now with his head cocked to the side. “Potty?

Sukuna grabs onto the boy’s hood and starts pulling him away from you. “You are a man. You go to the men’s bathroom. Let’s go.”

The toddler was not considered a man under any circumstances, so you raise your eyebrows at Sukuna. It only meant that he was now the one to help Yuuji. So, you shrug, wave him goodbye, and say, “Good luck!” before you turn back to the women’s restroom. 

Yuuji seems to look concerned as he was dragged away from you, considering he always goes with you to the bathroom, but he quickly grabs onto Sukuna’s pants, knowing that he may be left behind if he doesn’t. 

And so the two of them went on with their business.  The toddler nearly runs out of the bathroom, excited to go on the rides once again, but Sukuna barks a command for the kid to stay close, causing the boy to whine, but grab onto Sukuna again. The two of them wait for you in front of the women’s restroom. 

Five minutes go by, and you are still not out. It took a long time, considering that the two of them took longer than usual because Sukuna sucks at helping the kid. But, Sukuna knows better than to complain; it could be “girl” problems like you often say.

Ten minutes go by, and now Sukuna is tapping his feet against the pavement while Yuuji presses his face to Sukuna’s side, fingers inside his mouth from nerves. “Brother, where is she?”

Sukuna ignores the boy, and calls your phone. He hears the annoying sound of your ringtone come from his back pocket, and he tilts his head back and groans. Of course, you would leave your phone with him in this situation. Yuuji blinks at him, confused as to what is happening. But then, Sukuna takes a step forward to an elderly woman approaching the bathroom, describes your appearance, and tells her your name so that she can help look for you in the restroom.

Two minutes go by, and the woman comes out and shakes her head. You weren’t in there. Sukuna’s eyes widen, before he tears himself from the wall with a sigh. He mumbles out, “If your ass goes missing, I am going to kill you.” and Yuuji’s own eyes widen at the prospect.

“Y/N m-missing?”

Sukuna grabs onto the boy’s wrist and begins to drag him away from the bathroom. “Not for long. Dont be useless. Keep your eyes open for her.”

And so, the two of them began to walk around the park for you. Yuuji had whined out that Sukuna was walking too fast and was holding onto his wrist too tightly, but it was just due to the stress of the situation. So, without letting the boy prepare himself, Sukuna reaches down and snatches him up, placing him onto his side. “Dont get used to it. Your ass is just too slow. Keep looking.”

Yuuji just nods, frowning and resting his head on Sukuna’s shoulder. If this were any other circumstance Yuuji would be buzzing with excitement, loving being held in general, paired with being close to Sukuna. But you were missing, and Sukuna was incredibly tense, so Yuuji didn’t feel comforted at all.

They had been walking for ten minutes, and at this point, you were missing for almost twenty-five minutes. Sukuna was cursing under his breath, scanning the fair that housed so many people and was successfully blinding him from you. It was getting dark at this point too.

Sukuna hears sniffles in his ear, and he quickly turns to his brother, hissing out, “Dont you dare cry right now.” The last thing he needed was sobbing in his ear. 

Yuuji grabs onto Sukuna’s shirt and shakes his head, trying to hold back the tears. “W-Wont cry. Won’t. Where is Y/N? Brother, I want Y/N.”

The elder, in return, grabs the back of his hair and presses the boy’s face into his neck. He holds him there while Yuuji squeezes his eyes shut and latches on tighter to the man, feeling slightly better now that he is pressed close to his brother. “I am going to find her. Just focus on not crying; I dont want snot on my neck, little pest.”

Sukuna begins to rewalk his steps, heading back to the bathroom. He was glaring at everyone who walked by that looked concerned for the toddler who was holding back tears. Sukuna just holds the boy tighter and continues to scan the crowd to no avail.

The entirety of it, Yuuji is mumbling out, “No crying. No crying. No crying.” while tears slip down his cheeks. He also tries to look for you, but the second he pulls away from the man’s skin, he seems to want to cry even more with the lack of security. So the boy remains placed in Sukuna’s neck, mumbling out to himself while Sukuna ignores him and continues to search. The hand hasn’t left the back of Yuuji’s hair.

But, at last the two of them make it back to the bathrooms where you originally were supposed to be. Sukuna spots a figure sitting on the curb, looking equally as stressed as the two of them felt, but with two stuffed animals in their hands. He lets out a deep breath, relief washing over him and his rapidly beating heart.

Yuuji turns his head to the side when Sukuna pauses, and immediately the boy’s eyes widen. His finger points to you, and he lets out an “ah!” sound. The boy begins to stir in his hold, trying to squirm away so that he can run over to you himself. But Sukuna doesn’t dare let him go, and he skylines straight toward your mopey figure.

The high-pitched sound of your name snaps you out of your thoughts, and before you can even process completely who it is, you are engulfed in a hug. The familiar scent of your boyfriend surrounds you, and you are pinned to his chest, nearly suffocating from the force of it.

Yuuji switches from Sukuna and on to you, squeezing you at an unreasonable force for someone of the age of four. He was sobbing into your shoulder while Sukuna’s hand gripped the back of your neck. But after a long moment, Sukuna pulls away and glares at you. “You idiot. Dumbass. Where the fuck did you go? Are you trying to get kidnapped? Look at what you did to the kid. Are you trying to piss me off?”

He continues to insult and curse at you, demanding an explanation. He was worried about you and this was the way he was expressing it to you. You have to simultaneously comfort the two brothers, who seemed to be a mess without you. Yuuji had you in a death hold, and you had to try to sush his cries, questioning why he was chanting, “Dont cry. Dont cry,” while nearly hyperventilating from tears. Sukuna’s hand grips your shoulder, and he is still scolding you, but every once in a while, would stop himself and force his lips onto yours for a second before pulling away and cursing at you.

Sukuna demanded you explain yourself, and so you sighed and told him the story. You didn’t need to go to the bathroom, and you saw a smaller tiger plushie at a game stand down the line. So, you headed over to the booth, wanting to surprise Yuuji with the tiger. But you continued to lose and eventually got completely absorbed into the game. You did not even know the time had passed and that your phone was not with you, having put it in Sukuna’s pocket last ride. But, after about fifteen minutes, you won not only one but two tiger plushies. When you walked back to the bathrooms, they were gone. And so you waited for them, hoping they would come back soon.

You must have came back right when they left to find you – an unlucky turn of events. Sukuna simply shakes his head at your explanation and then leans forward to rest his forehead on your shoulder. “I am going to put a tracker on you.”

You try to lighten up the mood, petting both his and Yuuji’s hair, who is finally beginning to calm down. “It won’t work if I leave my phone with you.”

“I wouldn’t put it on your phone,” Sukuna remarks, grabbing your hand and grinning at you. 

You dont have a clue what that means, so you just shake your head with a sigh. Yuuji’s eyelids are growing heavy from all the walking, the crying fit he had, and the fact that he didnt have his nap today. He leans onto your shoulder and begins to doze off, even with all of the noises.

The two tiger plushies remain on the curb. You sigh and pick them up, holding onto Yuuji’s for later, and giving Sukuna the other one. He gives you an unamused glance. “Why would I want a toy? I am a grown man.”

“Because I won it for you and to prove that not everyone is trying to steal your tiger. ” You quote, referring back to his ridiculous metaphor from before, that holds no meaning.

He chuckles, shaking his head. “It doesn’t really work.”

“Hm?”

“The metaphor. Doesn’t make any sense.”

You raise your eyebrows, surprised he admitted defeat. He must have been in a good mood since he had found you. “Yeah, I know. You failed English three out of the four years of high school. No wonder you dont know how to use metaphors.”

He pauses for a moment, thinking, and then shrugs and doesn’t say anything. You call it a win for you. The two of you exit the park, now that Yuuji was asleep and Sukuna could not be any happier to leave. You probably won’t be returning to the fair for a couple years, knowing him.

When you get home, you tuck Yuuji into bed – he was already completely out, drool coating his chin. You place the tiger stuffed animal next to him, excited to see his reaction to it in the morning.

And you were right – he did have a reaction, way too early in the morning. At 6 AM, the door of you and Sukuna’s shared room flies open, and toddler squeals fill the air. He jumps on your bed with the stuffed animal in his hands and chants, “Tiger! Tiger! Tiger!” while the two of you groan out.

Sukuna, in his half-awake state, grabs onto the boy’s ankle, sending him tumbling onto the bed when he tries to jump. But the boy merely giggles, and this time Sukuna steals the stuffed animal, places it under him, and goes back to sleep. 

You are awoken with two mini hands placed on your face and the sight of Yuuji pouting. The first thing you hear that morning is, “Kuna stole my tiger!” 

A second later, two tiger plushies are being chucked at the boy. The boy falls back again with an “umph!” from the force of the throw, and the bed rumbles from Sukuna’s laughs. 

“If only you used that aim on the fair game,” you mumble, eyes still closed and trying to snuggle into your pillow.

“Just didn’t have the right target.” You hide a smile, not wanting to give Sukuna the satisfaction of making you laugh by insulting Yuuji.

Yuujis giggles echo in the room, and you blink at the boy. He was sitting on Sukuna’s chest now and shoving his stuffed animals in his brother’s face. “Two tigers! Two tigers!”

Sukuna groans out, shaking his head and wishing desperately that he was sleeping. “Your tigers are about to be headless in a minute if you dont stop talking.”

Yuuji shakes his head and pushes the plushies into Sukuna’s neck. “Tigers say, grrrrrrrrr! Wake up Kuna, grrrrrrr!” 

The tigers somehow mysteriously go missing three hours later. You could only hope that their heads were still intact – knowing Sukuna, they probably were not. 

#mello.writes #big brother au #sukuna x reader #kid yuuji #sukuna x you #sukuna fluff #yuuji fluff #yuuji tadori fluff #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #reader insert #x reader #fem reader #female reader #f! reader #fem! reader

[hwajin]

☆°. — ᴛɪʀᴇʟᴇss

genre: fluff, smut

pairing: hyunjin x afab!reader

wc: 3k

warnings: disgustingly cute sex, piv/ unprotected sex/ coming inside, explicit mentions of insecurities (though mentioned in the past and not relevant for the fics' present)

author's note: very self indulgent but i hope it resonates with some ppl, feedback is highly appreciated 🫶

Linen sheets around your body, the warmth they provided a saviour against the cold turmoiling outside. The sky had been gray twenty minutes prior, red and orange leaves having struggled to stay latched onto their trees, having lost the battle eventually to cover the asphalts in autumn colours. There was little rain drizzling from above still, though the sun had now found its way past the clouds drowning the neighbourhood golden. The faint scent of vanilla reminding you of the candle on your nightstand, the turning of pages and a sharpened pencil against them the only sound filling the room — it was peaceful.

"You're so pretty."

Hyunjin’s voice sounded barely as a whisper — anything but would have disturbed the atmosphere; quiet, warm, a sense of carelessness. And yet you jumped in your place, been far too engrossed in the book laying before you not to scare at his sudden voice cutting through the silence. You'd never feel pretty before Hyunjin. Before he's emerged in your life — you weren't sure still, how exactly, all too suddenly and without warning, as though he was a dream altogether — your appearance was something you'd obsessively worry over for the first half of your life, and tried to disregard entirely in the second one — despite blaming your loneliness on the very fact of lacking attractiveness you've come to simply live with the fact, had grown too tired to care, essentially.

You shifted in your shared bed, only a little to direct your focus from the book to Hyunjin, sitting by his desk — the surface as messy as his appearance. Pencils, papers and colors scattered all over, his hands proof of the artistry he's produced for the past hours; hair disheveled, shirt and shorts on his body ruffled up — he looked endearing, like lazy mornings personified, like coziness bundled up within a body.

He'd come into your life unexpectedly, and you wouldn't have believed anyone if they told you about it. About the sudden happiness the relationship with Hyunjin brought, the sudden feeling of securances, of home; of love. You wouldn't have believed someone to be ready to treat you the way Hyunjin did — any other person grew null to him if you only called, prioritizing you over passions and work. You wouldn't have believed to have found a love like this, a lover like him.

You wouldn't have believed to have found beauty within yourself, through him. And it had come naturally. You had never not believed him, never doubted his words — because they've always been spoken so matter-of-factly, so purely. Unexpectedly, too — much like now, while mundanenity lay over your features. Hyunjin carried a gift to search for beauty where other people would mind looking, and finding it effortlessly. More often than not you wished to be gifted with this vision, curious to see the world through his eyes — curious to see yourself the way he did.

Hyunjin chuckled at the way you blushed. You might be believing his every compliment, his every confession of love, though you long didn't grow used to it, or cold. Every tender word, every touch he planted onto your body as though you were fragile porcelain, most price treasure yet never stopped to send shivers down your spine. Wouldn't ever, you thought.

And you still never knew an answer. Flustered now, awkward as he kept looking at you, teasing simply, to test — Hyunjin had always taking amusement and certain pride in making you shy for him, because only he was able to. A shameful caugh left your throat, to fill the silence, to camouflage the speechlessness he'd brought upon you with as little as a compliment — you detangled from the linen sheets, letting the cold engulf you in order to make your way over to your lover, the man who was watching your every step with a knowing smirk as he inspected the blush covering not only your cheeks but the tips of your ears, your neck — it was a little as a mundane compliment, but it was far from meaningless to you, held as much importance as if Hyunjin had proposed right then there.

His hand found home on your bottom, the small of your back when you've stood next to him eventually. His eyes didn't lose your figure, glued onto you as if a look elsewhere would take you away.

"What are you drawing? Flowers?"

Hyunjin enjoyed painting nature; oceans, skies, flowers. Many grazed the walls of your very room, each a different meaning – he’d paint you baby’s breaths on your one-year anniversary, in everlasting love; he’d paint you pink camellias when he missed you, in longing; he’d paint you calla lilies if your insecurities got the best of you, in beauty. Though when you looked at his drawing it weren’t flowers; it was a sketch of you.

“Well, almost.”

Hyunjin's eyes turned to where you were looking, the drawing he's worked on for the past minutes, shy grin adorning his features at his cheesy comment. Your body was grazing the white paper, pencil strokes of your curves, you in the nude, another paper showing your face, a portrait, another one an abstract, more of only your eyes, only your mouth and nose, of your hands, some in colour, some in simple grey, small ones, bigger, doodles, proper paintings. You were scattered on his desk, your body was. Hyunjin's love lay open before you — maybe you didn't need access to his vision after all. His art was entirely enough. 

Hyunjin waited for a reaction, squeezing at your hip when there was none, looking up at you, curious eyes beneath the silver strands of messy hair.

"I've been running out of ideas lately, and... it's always nice to draw you... most of these aren't finished and rough-"

"They're beautiful. I... can't believe you'd wanna draw me this often."

"You're the only thing I wanna draw. Ever."

Hyunjin's gaze lay upon you, deep, waiting for you to look at him. You did eventually, turning from away from his art and blushing momentarily at his piercing eyes on your own. A soft smile from both of you — not as much as an upturn of one corner of the lips, both for too flustered to muster up and actually smile, too aware of the tension laying heavily now on your shoulders — and no further words were needed. Would be void if spoken aloud; so you bent down to meet him to meet his lips, hopeful and wanting, inviting when they fell upon your own. Hyunjin sighed into the kiss, relieved, longing. His left hand joined his right on your body, holding you by your waist, caressing you at your hips, tight, secure touches, absent of hesitation. He granted you the same love capsulated in his notebooks with a touch, a grace, a squeeze against your flesh, your whole.

Never breaking the kiss, and you sighed when he pulled you closer to his body, into the space he presented between his half-bare legs. You understood — wouldn't have believed anyone upon hearing to be finding comfort on another’s' lap, without as much as a second thought, though it was so natural with Hyunjin. You let him guide you, large hand by the small of your back, another by your hip; and you straddled him, broke the kiss only to settle down, to get comfortable — and you wished you hadn't, for the side of your lover beneath your weight was almost too much to bear. Love behind his glassy eyes, adoration he only knew in connection to you, only ever felt if you were the matter. Gaze a longing one, jumping from your lips to your eyes and back down to your lips — but a puppy waiting for his treat, staring you down as if there was no other, nothing else existing beside you and your body, your face inches from his own.

You closed the distance again, unable to hold out on it — Hyunjin's lips reddened already, always so prone to sensitivity, to visible reaction to loving antics. His teeth clashed against your own, almost painful but not quite; you weren't careful, deemed to not have the time to — you needed him, and you needed him now.

"Baby... slow down."

It was Hyunjin to pull you back to reality, though not to clear-mindedness – you obeyed his words, not as much a command as a simple reminder; you loosened your grip on his hair, pulled away an inch, only enough to breathe, to sigh into his mouth that didn’t cease leaving open mouthed kisses against your own. Though your thoughts were but a fog, still, holding no clear picture beneath your lids except him, everything about him – pleasure-contorted face, though you merely sat on him, barely even moved atop his body; brows a furrowed line, creasing deeply in the middle, eyes soften and tender to paint contrast; cheeks coloured, in fluster and anticipation, dooming excitement; guiding hands on your figure, reminding of his presence, his attentiveness, his care – he didn’t loosen his grip on you a moment, held you close and tight as his lips moved leisurely against your own. He took his time with you – not too tease, not because he was well aware of your desperation, but because you deserved nothing else. Hyunjin knew you’d whine upon his patience, though it was the very proof of his devotion; his patience held love, his patience held the entirety of your world.

So, you continued slowly, though not any less unable of lucidity, because Hyunjin never allowed it. If his touch wasn’t driving you insane it was his voice, a whimper rolling off his tongue and onto yours, or a sigh leaving his throat for you to swallow. Your lover always receptive, never shy in volume. Or it was his gaze on you – Hyunjin pulled away, occasionally, leaving you empty to catch a look at you before pulling right back, nearer than he was before. He left you no time for coherence, fed you only enough care and affection so you wouldn’t hunger, yet not enough for eventual satisfaction, by any means. Driving you further to insanity, hands groping rougher at your body, easing with soft rubs right after, teeth sinking into your bottom lip to heal momentarily with a lick, a following kiss – Hyunjin pulled on your every weakness, and not accidently.

A chuckle left the man’s lips when your hips – hot and painfully ignored by any type of his attention, leave for his raging erection right against your core – dragged against his own, in any hope of relieving pressure, of searching for friction. Your lack of clothes wasn’t making it a hard task; you were merely in your underwear, the thin material of Hyunjin’s shorts and boxers barely layers to complain about, yet it was far too much separating him from you.

Hyunjin chuckled at your desperateness, though his proclamation of amusement turned into one of pleasure – you grinded with such force, such wanting vigour he didn’t expect, and his own futilely cool act crumbled in his palm, shattered to pieces for you never not had the greatest impact on him, his pleasure, his love. When it came down to it, he wasn’t any stronger than you, not even more patient – his heart was as much slave to you as yours was to him.

Any composure was long forgotten. You’d argue, even, that Hyunjin by now was needier than you’d been to begin with – he didn’t waste time getting rid of either of your lazy attire, a long, slender finger simply pushing your panties to the side before dipping into your wetness, experimentally at first, with new-found enthusiasm then upon your reaction – you hummed out, fingers fisting his lose-fitting shirt, body rolling into his, in search for more. A second finger after a minute or two, a third one moments later and you were grinding against him, needy, loud, head thrown back or hidden in the crook of his neck. Your hot breath against his skin egged Hyunjin on, his digits curling within you, lips turning into a hazy smirk when you whined out, when your teeth sunk into the part between his shoulder and his neck, in helplessness, not in embarrassment over your sounds – you would never deny Hyunjin your voice in pleasure. The stinging feeling on his skin made him twitch in his confines; you felt it, if only subtly, and your eyes found his from beneath, fogged with bliss.

“Want you…”

It needn’t much more – Hyunjin both understood and was ready to comply for he wasn’t much stronger in resisting than you; it wasn’t a minute until his erection lay exposed between your figures, red and leaking already – he could act as coy as he wanted to, though his body would always serve as living proof of your effects on him.

You lined up, still fully dressed, white panties pushed to the side; hovering above him was hard given current position, legs growing tired quickly though Hyunjin supported enough with his hands by your hips, guiding you above him until you felt his tip by your entrance, until you – finally, eventually – sunk down on him, taking him fully momentarily. You moaned out in unison, almost pathetic, definitely frantic – it needed only the feeling of his cock inside you, of your walls around him for the both of you to fall victim to utter senselessness. You had the comfort of each other, though, aware of the similarity in lust and longing, so less embarrassed by it.

Hyunjin had given you a moment to adjust, had used the minute to clear his mind himself; to little avail, though he’d like to believe he gained back a fraction of the composure he had lost along the way. Yet, and it drove him entirely insane, the view of you was powerful enough to make him lose every battle he was fighting with himself – he watched your seemingly struggling face, eyes shut, mouth agape, lost in the pleasure Hyunjin granted. He prided himself on your expression, on your thoughtlessness; and then you opened your eyes again, locking them directly with his own. You both blushed, you both sucked in a breath, at the sudden realization of intimacy, of closeness, or maybe at nothing in particular, at the view of the other, the sight of your lover; your hips started moving, mewls rolling off tongues, eyes closing again in granted relief. Hands on bodies, groping hopelessly, feverishly. Eyes fighting to stay open to watch, to inspect, to remember. Mouths longing for the other, tongues dancing waltzes, sounds of pleasure being swallowed to make each their own. Two lovers on a late noon, two lovers so very engrossed in each other anyone looking upon them would struggle not to believe in souls, the connection of such.

Every flutter of your sensitive walls, every roll of chasing hips, every clench Hyunjin reciprocated with sounds so endearing they got you light-headed, got your urge growing to grant him more, better, greater. None of you were in control, in particular, and yet both of you were fighting for it — though not in selfishness, but for gratification for the other. Despite your cramping legs, positioned uncomfortable on the chair beneath Hyunjin, despite your inability to even move much you did nevertheless, as best as you could, pulling on all of your lovers' buttons — you nibbled at his neck, breathed out against it, swore confessions against his damp skin; everything you knew would drive him needier, more insane. Though he was the same — he throbbed within you, guided your hips along his erection for you to feel entirely, to drag out the feeling of his every vein grazing your walls, of every of his rigid fitting your own like pieces of a puzzle. His hands, though sweaty and strained, held position at your hips, to stabilize, to ease off the pain in your legs. Your own were homeless, playing with Hyunjin's hair right by his nape or pulling at his scalp when he granted a mindless thrust against you, or exploring his body entirely, grasping fingers on his chest, against his torso, on the steadiness of broad shoulders.

You grew impatient. Had never been in the first place and lost some more of it yet, wanted to hold onto the feeling of Hyunjin prodding at your cervix yet urging release. Hyunjin was no different – he had let you move solely on your own before though now snapped his hips into yours, mouth agape or biting at his deep red lips, sucking in breaths and sighs of your name in anticipation. His grip on you would leave marks on your skin, that you were sure of – though you weren’t one to complain. The telltale signs of his high doomed on you; furrowed brows, twitching erection within you, frantic, passionate, messy, wet kisses against your mouth or your neck; the act of pulling you closer to him – and then the words, finally; “Fuck, baby, I’m– …I’m cumming. I’m gonna cum.”, before he did, spilling within you. He hadn’t waited on your release, only because he knew you’d reach it after his own – he had felt you being close, had noticed the fluttering of your walls around him, your calls of his name increasing in pitch and volume, had seen the expression on your face he’d never misread – and he knew his orgasm inside you would bring you to your own, would be the last push down the cliff.

Your muscles spasmed, your legs contracted and Hyunjin held you close, eased the pain off your legs with a tired grip on you. Despite it you didn’t dare get off, though – basking in your closeness, relishing the warmth of body on body, losing yourself in the giggled kisses Hyunjin now planted on your panting lips, the loving confessions spoken against the lobe of ear before it was nibbled on in adoration – affection never stopped after release with Hyunjin, after the reach of simultaneous orgasm; his love expanded the sheer physicality, mere lust.

Hours later you’d lay in bed again, naked then, bare bodies glued to one another, every painting, every drawing of you on Hyunjin’s desk long forgotten, if only temporarily, for the cleverest artist couldn’t possibly copy the beauty Hyunjin saw in you before his very eyes, every day anew; tirelessly.

@es-kay-zee @jeyelleohe @angelwonie @yvniek4ng @ppiri-bahng @bintificreads @svintsandghosts @llunapastell @sensitiveandhungry @minniesvenus @junebug032 @noellllslut @wolfennracha @unexceptional-h @like-a-diamondinthesky @katsukis1wife @binniesbang

#hyunjin smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin imagines #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids scenarios #hwang hyunjin smut

[creaturebehavior]

when someone suggests a home remedy for skincare like using lemons to lighten hyperpigmentation for example…. We have affordable products these days that will do that more effectively, that wouldn’t be a pure waste of time bestie……

but if you love wasting food and time for no reason then sure. use lemons.

#in my friend’s defense she’s almost 30 so i understand that her/our generation grew up during the ill informed health crazes of the 90’s/00s #every womens/teen/tween magazine and various Tv shows like ANTM for example suggested making DIY skincare with food #it was everywhere and it was something everyone tried at least once #along with putting lemons in your hair in the summertime #that kind of thing was just like hella common and normal #as i’m sure you all remember idk why i’m mansplaining in the tags rn #it’s wild to me that my friend is still on that page though #no one gave her the memo yet that DIY skincare isn’t it #i don’t blame her i guess cuz even at cosmetology school we had multiple days in which we discussed DIY skincare & we even were required to #*required to make 3 DIY skincare products as a homework assignment #so the curriculum is still hella outdated #also our presalon teacher is still living in the 80’s no offense lol but she’s not advanced her skill beyond what she learned in the 80’s #aaaaanywhoooo lol #my friend is only like 2ish years older than me but i swear sometimes it’s like i’m talking to someone from a completely different age group #but she didn’t grow up online and she also grew up mormon in canada so i have to take that into account lmao #us having two completely different upbringings is what makes me someone who’s more privy to pick up on current trends #whereas her upbringing has caused her to be more on the page of the adults she grew up around rather than the kids these days and ppl online #the way i just went on a whole entire tangent because my friend selena told my other friend jill to put lemon on her skin yesterday lmfao #execute me

[muchosbesitos]

la apuesta part 2

pairing: college!miguel x fem reader

warnings: a bit of angst(?), oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v (safe sex is GREAT sex 🗣️💯), missionary, doggy

author’s note: i keep getting surprised by the fact that ppl actually like my drabbles 💀 but like always, thank you for supporting :))

word count: 4120 (lo siento, i got carried away 😰)

part one aqui :)

Miguel(DO NOT CALL): chula, please talk to me

received at 2:43 pm

Miguel(DO NOT CALL): can we just talk about what you think you might've heard?

received at 2:44 pm

Miguel(DO NOT CALL): please. i just wanna talk to you.

received at 2:45 pm

Miguel hadn't realized how effectively you'd infiltrated through his defenses until you had left, knowing that he'd probably never share another weird snack combination with you settling weird in his stomach. He was supposed to feel a sense of relief and accomplishment when Peter congratulated him and gave him the two hundred bucks, but he only felt the cereal he ate this morning forming into steel, only feeling the emptiness from not having you. He decided to put his pride to the side and head over to your dorm, just to try to explain his side of the situation.

You heard a knock on your door a couple minutes later but had a feeling it was Miguel, so you decided not to open the door. Your roommate glanced over at you, seeing the fetal position you were laying in and decided to open the door just a bit. "I don't know what the hell you did to her, but get the fuck out, O'Hara. What I do know is that she was too good for you to be messing around with in the first place, so you and Peter can go stick that blunt up your ass and choke on it," you heard her say, slamming the door in his face before walking back to your side of the room. You let out a small laugh, looking up at her as you sat up on the bed. "Thanks MJ," you whispered, letting out a small sigh as she embraced you in a hug. "Now, I've let you mope around the dorm for about a week now but let's go out. It doesn't have to be anything too serious, we can just go out to the mall if you want," she suggested, looking at you with a smile as she pulled away from the hug.

You and MJ walked through the mall a couple hours later, despite the fact that you'd only gotten one of those overpriced pretzels from Auntie Anne's, you still found yourself enjoying this without giving much thought to Miguel. That was, until you and MJ were sitting at the water fountain talking about which store to go next when you saw him talking with a girl. You wanted to be the better person, to be able to walk away from it, but you just couldn't help but feel the anger coursing inside of you. "You're a real piece of shit, you know that? It's one thing for you to treat me like I don't have any feelings and I'm just means to an end but it's another thing for you to go and talk to someone else after you came to my dorm room just a few hours ago!" You yelled at him, tears welling up in your eyes as you slapped him. You attracted the attention from other shoppers, but you didn't care, you wanted Miguel to feel just a second of the hurt you felt this past week.

MJ looked up at you as you walked back to her, leaving Miguel agape with his hand on his cheek, as a smile appeared on her face while she took a bite out of her pretzel. "I feel like a proud mom right now, y'know?" She said, laughing a bit as she hands you your pretzel. "It's just, I know that it was all just part of the bet, but a part of me wanted him to care," you admitted, taking a bite out of the pretzel as you tried to get Miguel out of your mind. "I know you're gonna wanna blame yourself and whatnot, but it wasn't your fault, it was his. He didn't deserve a minute of your company," she assured you, rubbing your knee before standing up.

You two continued to walk around in the mall, ending up at Sephora to look at overpriced makeup. "Walking out with 2 makeup products after spending 80 dollars has to be a federal crime," you murmured, looking at your receipt with a small groan. "Not a federal crime, capitalism," she said with a laugh, walking next to you as she looked through her own receipt with a small groan. "Okay, you're right. This has to be a federal crime somewhere," she finally muttered, shoving it in her pocket as you two walked around window shopping.

After seeing Miguel at the mall with that girl, you decided to get your priorities back in order. Your grades weren't necessarily slipping too badly, but you knew you could do better. You walked into the library, sitting down at one of the tables in the back and read through your textbook while highlighting some key points. You looked up when someone slammed something on the table, your annoyance only growing when you saw Peter sitting down in front of you. You weren't exactly his biggest fan given how immaturely he acted with MJ, but your distaste had grown even more when you found out he orchestrated the bet. You were about to pick up your stuff to leave before he grabbed your arm, making you sit back down.

"Just give me five minutes to explain, and I'll leave you alone after that," he said, letting your arm go as he folded his arms. You sighed but nodded, closing your book as you paid attention to him. "Look, Miguel might be an asshole for going through with the bet, but I made the suggestion. I was angry at you for swaying MJ's opinion about me and I took advantage of what he felt towards you," he said, his head dropping a bit in shame. You scoffed in surprise, shaking your head as you collected your books. "First of all, I never swayed MJ's opinion about you. Sure, I told her she should set some stricter boundaries when it comes to you but I never got in the middle of your relationship. And next time you have an issue with me, address it instead of having someone else do the work for you," you said, walking away from him.

You felt even angrier at Peter's explanation of the events, knowing he probably said that to make himself feel better about all this. You scoffed and heard your stomach grumble loudly, your cheeks flushing red when you saw that you'd attracted some attention from the students walking nearby. You walked into the cafeteria, trying to calm down as you headed into the lunch line. You glanced over at the available tables before your gaze fell on Miguel. Or more specifically, Miguel kissing the same blonde girl from the mall against one of the vending machines. You felt yourself growing angry, at Miguel for being a jerk and at yourself, for still caring about what he did with his tongue.

As you sat down at the tables with your cold pizza in hand, you couldn't help but start to wonder what was wrong with you. Why she deserved to be taken seriously while you were treated like your feelings didn't matter, like you were just the end objective to a goal. You felt someone's gaze on you and looked up to see Miguel staring at you, an indecipherable look in his eyes, as the girl next to him continued talking. The girl looked over at you with narrowed eyes, practically seething, before pulling Miguel for a kiss. You snapped out of it, feeling a bit sorry for the girl that she felt the need to do that out of jealousy before going back to eating your pizza.

You spent most of the semester focusing on your own work, spending time with your friends and MJ, and even if you did get asked out, you couldn't bring yourself to say yes and do all the work. Sure, Miguel hurt you deeply, but you didn't find any excitement in going on dates. Not like you did with him. Eventually, midterms were around the corner and you were assigned to work with Miguel for your biology project. Even if the idea made you want to drop out of college and never come back, you decided to be mature and be a good partner to Miguel.

You decided to stick behind when the class left after gaining permission from your professor to do a test run on the project assigned, since the idea of getting anything less than an A just didn't sit right. You walked into the supply closet, grabbing a few things before you heard the door close and lock. Before you had the chance to say anything, Miguel popped out and looked at you pleadingly. "Please, just let me talk and then I'll let you go," he said, his hands fidgeting by his sides like he had the urge to grab you but couldn't decide if it would be right. "What is it, Miguel?" you asked, putting down the instruments you were holding in your hand before you got the idea to smash a flask on his head.

"Look, I know I made a mistake and I'm sorry about that, but I can't sleep without you. I can't stop thinking about you, it's haunting my mind," he said, looking into your eyes as you laughed bitterly. "Isn't that the understatement of the century? You seemed perfectly fine when I saw you exchanging saliva in the cafeteria a couple weeks ago," you replied, folding your arms as you waited for him to elaborate. "She doesn't mean anything to me. Not the way you do, I promise. I tried to get you out of my mind, I did, but despite everything, I still found myself falling in love with you," he said, holding your hands as he looked straight at you. "Is this just another part of a bet? Try to see how long I'll take to forgive you? I wonder what the wager is, 200?" you asked, taking your hands off him as you saw the look in his eyes shift into something disappointing. "I get that you still don't trust me, chula. but I'll make it up to you," he said after a moment of silence, kissing your hand before walking away.

Over the next couple days, you kept finding your favorite flowers scattered on your desk at school or on your front door with some memo along the lines of 'forgive me.' You couldn't help but feel slightly enraged at the fact that Miguel thought he could makeup for what he did with just measly flowers, so the bouquets ended up in the garbage most of the time. After Miguel noticed that you weren't responding to the flowers, he kept dropping letters in your notebooks or leaving them at your dorm expressing how sorry he truly felt. Eventually, those ended up in the trash as well after you started growing more and more agitated at how he just didn't understand that you wanted a genuine apology.

He stopped you on your way out your biology midterm, pulling you into an empty classroom as he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "Okay, I see that most of my gestures aren't getting anywhere with you so I want to try something different. I want to apologize for the way that I acted towards you, treating you like you were just some end objective to a goal. At first, it did feel like that, but as I started to get closer to you, I fell in love with the person that you were. Look, I wish I could tell you why I chose to do that, but I can't. What I can tell you is that those two hundred dollars weren't anything compared to what it's like being in your company," he spoke after a couple seconds, his hands clasping yours as if he was begging you not leave just yet. "I want to trust you, I really do, but I can't. I can't let myself go through all that again," you spoke truthfully, your hands holding his tightly as he looked at you.

"Let's make a bet, yeah?" He asked, half a smile on his face as you stared at him, dumbfounded that he would even bring that idea up right now. In the middle of his apology speech. "I know it sounds stupid right now but hear me out, okay. If you agree to go on a date with me and you find yourself enjoying it, then you'll give me a chance to continue to prove myself to you. And if you don't enjoy it, then I'll leave you alone. How does that sound?" he suggested, letting your hands go as he gave you some time to think about it."You're right, that is the stupidest idea I've heard. But fine, I suppose I'll do it," you finally said after a couple minutes of consideration. You saw the look of surprise flicker in miguel's eyes before he broke out into a smile, kissing your hands. "Gracias, mi chula. I won't disappoint," he said before walking off out of the empty classroom, leaving you alone with your rampant thoughts.

The day of the date, you paced around your dorm as MJ stared at you, listening to your rambles. "What if this was a mistake? I mean, he already played me once so who's to say he won't do it again, y'know what I mean?" You said, looking up at her as you stopped your pacing for a moment. "So why'd you agree to it?" She asked, laying down on her stomach as she looked up at you. "I don't know, I guess I'm hoping that he's been truthful about this all because despite the fact that he hurt me and all that, I'm still in love with him," you admitted, sitting down on your bed as you looked over at her. "Well, that's as good of a reason as any to go," she replied, standing up to sit next to you as she placed her hand on your thigh, gently rubbing it as she tried to reassure you.

You heard a knock on your door a couple hours later as you finished up getting ready, feeling a bit anxious to see Miguel once more. You opened the door once you finished tying your shoes on, seeing Miguel dressed in one of those burgundy button down shirts he looks so good in but barely wears with a pair of black pants. His jaw dropped as he scratched the back of his neck nervously, before he gave you a smile. "Te ves hermosa, mi chula," he said, handing you a bouquet of flowers. You held the flowers up to your nose before going to set them back down, coming back to see MJ standing in the doorway now. "If she comes back with even one lash out of place, I will hunt you down," she threatened, the sight almost funny to you as you saw her looking up at him. You pressed your hand on her shoulder, giving her a reassuring smile before walking out of the door next to Miguel. (you look gorgeous, my pretty)

You and Miguel ended up on an aquarium date, since you briefly mentioned in the past that even though it was a bit cliché in your opinion, you always wanted to come on one. Miguel held your hand once you were at the front of the line, guiding you inside to where some of the pufferfish were. You took a chance to watch them swim around, your eyes drifting over to Miguel to see that he was staring at you, watching the way you took in everything around you. You two continued walking through the aquarium, staring at some of the different fish with you taking pictures and him dropping some random fish fact he'd read about when he was six.

"I cannot believe you prefer sharks over dolphins," Miguel said with a small laugh, folding his arms as he watched your nose scrunch up at the dolphin show. "You're telling me you prefer these menacing creatures over those cute little guys?" You asked, your brows slightly furrowed as you looked up at Miguel. "Well no, but it's still odd how you call an animal with five rows of teeth a 'cute little guy'," he said, nudging your shoulder gently as he laughed. Despite the fact that you'd convinced yourself you were gonna try to make this difficult for Miguel, you couldn't help but be reminded of the guy you fell in love with here at the aquarium.

You and Miguel continued walking around the aquarium a bit before you reached to the manta-ray petting area. "Please?" You asked, your bottom lip forming into a pout as you saw the look on his face when you both got there. He let out an exasperated sigh as he rubbed his temples whispering an, "Ay Dios mío" before agreeing to go in with you. You did quick work of washing your hands before walking over to the small pool where they were, your hands gently touching them. Miguel walked next to you, handing you a piece of fish to feed to them as he basked in the small smile you gave him. You two spent a few minutes in silence petting the manta-rays before deciding to go get an ice cream cone. (oh Lord)

"Thank you for all this, I know I didn't exactly make it easy for you," you said, licking your ice cream cone as you sat down in his car. He placed his hand on top of yours, gently rubbing it with his thumb as he looked into your eyes. "I get it, okay? I know it probably wasn't easy for you to let down your defenses but I really do appreciate you giving me this opportunity," he said, bringing your hand up to his mouth before kissing it. The ride back home was pretty quiet, a comforting type of silence, your hand enveloped with his as he rubbed gentle circles every now and then.

You and Miguel got to his dorm room a couple minutes later, your legs instantly wrapping around his waist as he held you up against the wall, kissing your neck as he tasted every spot he had access to. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling him closer to his body before stopping suddenly, looking at you. "Is it alright if we do this, mi reina? i don't want you to feel pressured," he asked, instantly being shut up as you pulled him in for a kiss once more. (my queen)

He set you down on the bed, his hands working on helping you get undressed before laying you back on his bed. He settled in between your legs, kissing your lips passionately, like he couldn't live normally without a taste of your lips. He kissed down your neck, his hands gently rubbing on your thighs. He pressed small kisses on your stomach before he reached your cunt, leaving a small kiss on your clit before adjusting himself so he'd have better access. He started licking your folds gently, his tongue dipping your hole teasingly as he chuckled when he saw how you reacted, your hands tangling in his hair to pull him closer. He let his hands rest on your thighs, gently rubbing small circles on them as he dipped his tongue inside, sucking on everything that you would give him.

He exchanged his mouth for his fingers a couple moments later, his pointer and middle finger dipping in and out of you as he tried to ease his way in. "So tight," he mumbled, his mouth closing around your clit as his tongue rolled against it. His fingers moved in a scissoring motion as he eased against your walls, basking in the way your fingers gripped his hair and the way your hips grinded against his face. He let out small moans against your clit, the vibrations going straight through you as your back arched from the bed. He curled his fingers in just the right way, listening to the way your moans started becoming less coherent and the way your back arched from the bed. He continued to thrust his fingers inside of you, his tongue working in tandem against your clit as you babbled something about being close.

He pulled away from your cunt, sticking his fingers in his mouth as he licked your release off. You felt yourself growing more aroused at the scene, pulling Miguel down for a kiss as you moaned softly when you tasted a combination of yourself and his toothpaste. He pulled away a couple moments later, doing quick work of his clothes as he stroked your cheek. "Is it still okay if we do this?" He asked, watching you closely for any signs of doubt. "Yes. Please, I need you Mig," you said, feeling yourself cringe internally at how needy you were being but you couldn't find it in you to care at the moment.

He gently pushed inside of you, his hand wrapped in yours as he circled your palm with his thumb. He wiped away a tear rolling down your cheek, making sure he didn't move until you had gotten adjusted. You focused on relaxing and taking deep breaths despite how big he just felt inside of you, and it was barely the tip. "You can move now," you told him, feeling the ache in between your legs be replaced by something pleasurable. He slowly started moving deeper inside of you, letting out a small groan as he bottomed out deep inside of you. He pressed his hand against your lower stomach, looking directly at the bulge in your stomach as he started moving.

"Such a good girl, taking me in so deep," he whispered, dipping his head down to kiss your cheek. He continued thrusting his hips against yours, moving faster as he felt your walls clenching around his cock like a vice. You nodded, babbling mindlessly about how much of a good girl you were for him as he chuckled, clearly enjoying the sight of the mixture between your boobs bouncing and the cockdrunk state you were in. His thumb traveled down to your clit, gently rubbing small circles on it as his cock abused your cunt, your walls fluttering around him. Your walls clenched around him tightly as you moaned, your release washing over you and creating a creamy white ring around the base of his cock. "You think you can do one more for me, sweetheart?" He asked, gently rubbing your thighs as you nodded, not trusting your voice to speak.

You flipped over on your stomach as you rested on all fours, letting out a small moan as you felt spit dribbling down your cunt. He started thrusting in slowly, your walls clenching around him as he started to move in deeper inside. He started off slow since he knew you weren't exactly experienced when it came to sex, but once you started to move your hips against his, he lost all semblance of control. His balls slapped heavily against your thighs as he snapped your hips, hitting your cunt in ways you hadn't felt before. His hands gripped your hips tightly as he continued to move against you, letting out small groans.

He grabbed you by your shoulders, pulling you upright so your back would hit his chest while he tilted your head to kiss you. "Taking me so good, mi vida," he whispered, feeling his orgasm starting to build up. With the way you were clenching around him, he could tell you were close too so he decided to rub small circles on your clit once more, providing you just the right amount of stimulation. You let out a small moan as you came around his cock once more and the way your walls tightened against him, his orgasm came crashing down. His cum coated your pussy, leaking out when he pulled his softening cock out.

He grabbed a rag from his drawers, starting to clean your legs carefully, making sure not to apply too much pressure so he wouldn't overstimulate you. He laid down next to you once he finished, wrapping his arms against you tightly as he covered you two up with the sheets. You felt yourself growing sleepy with how warm he felt against you but you still heard him say,

"Does this mean I win the bet, mi chula?"

@eddiemxnsonlvr @chshiresins @mimiemie @6thhokageswife

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