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#the next pages were already planned out
helyannis · 2 months
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The Lay of the Children of Húrin
fol. 4v
Description:
Verses 118–135 of the Lay of the Children of Húrin:
To the left, three Balrogs brandish whips and flails. In front of them, Morgoth stands talking to Húrin who is chained to a rock. Symbolically shielded by Húrin, Elves hide in the hills. To the right Thingol sits on his throne in Menegroth.
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yanderenightmare · 3 months
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TW: NSFW, noncon, yandere, stalking
gn reader
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There’s something very off about your roommate… something eerie that makes you keep your distance.
You can’t describe exactly what it was about the boy except that you felt it from the second you shook his hand. The way he introduced himself… you don’t know… you had this unshakable feeling as though he already knew you from somewhere.
It’s a weird thought to have of someone you’d only just met. You knew you were probably just being paranoid. It was your first time sharing your space with someone other than family, so it might very well just have been you being apprehensive.
Not that you’d ever let it show, though. You didn’t want things between the two of you to be awkward when you’d be living together for the next three years of getting your degree.
You just needed to get used to him, is what you told yourself. 
So you laughed at his jokes and listened to his brags with a polite smile as though nothing was wrong, even when he continued being strange. 
For starters, he had almost nothing to unpack – as though he only planned to stay about a month or two. Everything seemed newly bought as well – unused and sterile, like a movie set.
You don’t know… maybe he was a minimalist even though he didn’t seem the type.
It shouldn't really have made your skin crawl the way it did. But whether it made sense or not, you couldn’t shake the discomfort – walking around in a constant wariness of him. 
Everything about him seemed like a half-assed theatre act.
You’d see him in the lecture hall, walking from here to there, buying strawberry milk from the vending machines. His textbooks remained piled on his desk in your shared dorm room – but you’d never seen any one of them open. And when curiosity and suspicion made you flip up one of his notebooks, you found it was all blank except for a few shitty doodles on the first page. You never see him cram for exams or writing any papers. You don’t think you’ve ever even seen him pull a laptop out of his bag.
It’s like he isn't a student at all…
And something about the rest of his performance just rubs you the wrong way.
It’s as though he’s practiced all his facial expressions in the mirror – as though he’s studied social cues and body language in a human behavior manual instead of having learned them naturally. It makes you uneasy – how his smile is always a bit too wide and a bit too stiff to be genuine and how all his words are like dialogue off a script.
Somehow, it feels as though he’s wearing a second skin – hiding something… something that’s not quite right on the inside.
It grosses you out when he tries flirting with you. But you do your best to hide it. Brushing him off by changing the topic, inviting other friends when he asks to eat lunch together, laughing off his attempts as though he’s making jokes – always excusing yourself when you end up alone with him for too long. 
You try to avoid him as much as you can. Pretending to study when you’re in the dorm together – and otherwise going to bed early.
He tells you he’ll see you at the party later when you leave to pregame with some friends. You can only muster a smile and a curt “Sure.” before leaving. 
As for seeing each other later – you hope you don’t.
But of course you do. You can’t seem to escape him. Everywhere you go, he follows.
It doesn’t help that all your friends think he’s so hot, immediately calling him over, gushing over him as though he’s some type of celebrity. They don’t understand your reservation – if they were you, they’d have fucked him the first night of moving in together.
It’s not like you don’t find him attractive as well. You admit he is ridiculously handsome, and if the circumstances were different, you’d say you lucked out being assigned the same dorm room as him. 
But as it were – he gives you the same feeling as spotting a spider.
He’s got his arm slung around your shoulder as the two of you walk back together. 
He had a little bit too much to drink… And despite your thoughts about him, even you didn’t have the heart to say no when he was practically hanging off of you – cheeks dusted pink with his mothlike lashes droopy, drunkenly mumbling while blinking up at you with those awfully bright eyes, asking you to take him home and tuck him in.
“Ugh...” You sigh.
It’s a struggle carrying the nearly two-meter-tall boy, almost having to drag him down the hallway before stopping short at your door. He’s drooling on your shoulder with murmurs of sleep as you search for the key – not exactly sober yourself.
When inside, his bigger body presses you against the closed door – his face buried in the grove of your neck with slurred words.
“Dude.” You state with a grimace – as if saying his name was too much of a burden – sighing as you haul him off with the same exasperation of a parent putting an unruly child to bed. 
Ducking beneath his arm, you leave him kissing the door – thinking to yourself how you really should put him to bed before he can embarrass himself any further.
You open your mouth to tell him when his temper finally makes him grab your arm a little harder than intended. 
“This isn't how this is supposed to go.” 
You flinch instinctively, and his grip tightens in return. “Hey?”
You can’t see his face with the way he’s got his head bowed. But you don’t like the snuff growl that passes under his breath as he utters the next words.
“Why are you so difficult?”
You do more than flinch this time, yanking yourself out of his harsh grip before he can apologize for it – taking on a deliberate offensive stance. 
With your feet squared and your hands up to keep him at a distance, you look ready to try fending him off.
Something about it seems premeditated – something in the wary way you eye him. You don’t even look all that surprised – as if you had suspected this side of him existed all along and had only been waiting for it to surface.
Oddly, t feels like something you’ve kept secret from him – as though you’ve acted comfortable all this time when, in reality, you’ve been clutching your mental pearls.
He realizes then why you haven’t returned his affection – why all you’ve ever given him is cold-hearted rejection…
Of course. It’s obvious now – so obvious it’s funny. Even though he’s been the one parading around like someone else, it feels as though you’ve been doing the exact same thing around him – hiding your discomfort behind a sweet smile – hiding it so well that not even his keen eyes have picked up on it…
But it’s clear now….
You’ve both been playing a game of pretend – just a pair of perfect strangers – who've now shared their hand. Leaving you both feeling naked – raw out in the cold – just waiting for the next move.
“I guess the gig is up, huh?” He rasps, fingers twitching at his sides – looking ready to pounce.
You couldn’t defend why you'd kept the pepper spray in the drawer of your nightstand – but you were glad you had. Rushing for it, hands shaking as you pulled the handle and grabbed the bottle – twisting around and spraying it right in the face of your roommate.
He cries out from the attack, clutching his face with both hands – staggering back with a series of gruff curse words.
Still, he guards the door – preventing your escape.
The groaning turns to croaks instead, and you think he might be crying. It’s tough to see through the hands covering his eyes – but when he looks back up again, despite the red burns left by your pepper spray on his puffy teary cheeks, he’s got a smile on his face. 
He’s not crying – he’s laughing – as the hand covering his face slowly drags down the crazed expression – over crazed eyes, bloodshot and wet, staring at you through the gaps between his fingers.
The look alone is enough to give you goosebumps.
But when you try to make a run for it, he grabs you again – and this time, you’re not able to shake him off. It feels as though the tight grip splinters your skin as he pulls you back – shoving you down against your bed.
“Can’t say it hasn’t been fun, roomie. But I’m not completely satisfied yet.”
He’s on top of you before you get a kick in – pinning your wrists above your head as he leans over you – bright eyes gleaming with that sickness you’d almost convinced yourself you’d been imagining. You opt to shout, but he’s soon got his other hand clasped tight over the bottom half of your face before you get a sound out.
“You were supposed to fall in love with me, you know?” His voice is airy as though he’s confessing – but also on the brink of laughter as though he’s telling a joke in class. “That’s how it goes in the movies.”
You swallow beneath his hand – eyes peeled, heart beating so hard it hurts.
His eyes wander – roaming your neck and chest. It’s awfully quiet before he speaks again. “But I suppose we can act out a different plot line...” 
You whimper at his suggestive tone – already feeling the weight of his intentions bearing down on you, crushing you free of air. 
“I like romcoms, but horror stories have their charm, too...”
You shudder beneath the warmth of his breath, screaming into his palm once his warm lips mouth your throat, sucking on the tender skin with tongue and teeth in between words.
“An unfortunate college student finds themself moving into the same dorm as their unhinged stalker…”
There’s a thrill in his tone – something crazed and terrifying as he goes on.
“The two play a psychological game of endurance, trying to balance college and privacy while sharing the same space...”
Something hard and gross steadily ruts against your thigh. His voice gets thicker – breath hotter on your neck. The kisses turn sloppy. Tears burn your cheeks.
“Everything seems to lead up to a party held before Spring break, a fateful night on which their endurance finally runs out.”
He groans, and you sob.
“A rejected kiss, a can of pepper spray, a shared bed. What happens next?”
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JJK – Gojo, Yuta, Mahito
BNHA – Hawks, Denki, Kirishima
HQ – Miya twins
CSM – Yoshida
BLLK - Nagi
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ghoulphile · 1 month
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janey's dad | c.h./the ghoul | part 01
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➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 3.7k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; age gap, hair pulling, teasing, making out, mutual pining, lipstick kink, stockings, frottage, porn w/ feelings, porn w/ plot, mild angst w/ happy ending, divorced!coop, babysitter!reader, pre-war/bomb ➥ summary | “We really, uh, shouldn’t - oh fuck, you look --” ➥ notes | i'm so sorry this is later than it should be. i am unfortunately a corporate slave and this fic just did not want to cooperate 🫠 there are a lot more things planned and this fic is turning into a bit of a beast (20+ pages and counting rip lmao) so i've decided to split it into two parts to make it more manageable for myself mostly un-beta'd atm a special thanks to @corinthianism for all her lovely help ❤️!!
feel free to send in thots, questions, requests! | masterlist
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Divorce is hard, but being a divorcé is downright hellish.
One of the ugliest things in the world, if Cooper Howard has any say. At least when he was a Marine, they told him where to point his gun, where to aim; nameless threats vanishing with a quick squeeze of the trigger.
Here, these ‘enemies’ aren’t enemies — not really.
It’d be easier if they were.
Worse still, they have names he holds as dearly as his own. There’s Barb, whip smart and always so clever. Then Janey, the light of his life and so sweet his teeth ache.
Once upon a time, life was sweeter than apple pie on Sundays.
Then came the separation.
Afterwards, he finds it hard to look at what’s left of his family without losing breath like a horse kick to the chest. Their absence rips open a hole inside him ten miles wide, its edges jagged and wrong.
And when he can’t take the silence anymore, fingers of malt liquor help dull the ache, though it’ll never be enough to mend what’s broken.
See, war’s something he understands.
But these domestic battlefields where he sits across from his ex-wife while lawyers barter this weekend and that holiday?
How he struggles to meet his daughter’s eye every time she asks if he’s coming home?
When Barb keeps the house and the money while he keeps the scrapbooks and the dog?
He doesn’t — can't — refuses to comprehend.
Because in what world can you reconcile looking down the barrel of a smoking gun only to find the woman you love staring back, finger on the trigger? Left out to hang as Vault-Tec orchestrates his downfall.
The true depth of their involvement is unknown, but it’s no coincidence his bank accounts dried up faster than the Mojave in June. The ink still wet when the media snapped up the story of his failed marriage.
Thus, his reputation (rather what’s left of it) unraveled faster than a spool of thread.
Knocked on his ass and kept there by a boot heel crushing his windpipe. Whose? He hasn’t got a fucking clue.
But whoever they are, they’re making sure he stays a washed up nobody who struggles to land a call back, much less pay his monthly alimony on time.
See what we can do? You were America’s favorite gunslinger - now look at you. Mind your place.
Hell, millions used to scream his name.
Nowadays people whisper it behind their hands like a dirty secret, “Oh, did you hear? Cooper Howard…” as they dissect pieces of his life into bite-sized Before’s and After’s. “Hah! Serves him right. Y’know, I never liked him much.”
While he grits his teeth and swallows his bitterness with a smile, he hates how he can’t protect Janey from snide reporters and nosy strangers. Juggling actor-father-divorcé with fumbling hands.
It’s only been six months; a heartbeat, a lifetime, and already he’s scraped thin like butter over too much bread.
Something’s gotta give.
After all, he’s only one man.
But just when it's bleakest, the clouds part.
A young woman moves in next door, the first bright thing that’s come his way in a long, long while.
At first, he kept his distance.
Exchanged vague hello’s and how-are-you’s. Then Janey took a shine; always so friendly and eager to talk about her latest books.
Any reservations he might’ve had died when he saw how enamored you are with her.
Only made sense that over time small pleasantries turned into playdates. Then those playdates turned into sleepovers.
Before long, you’re watching her when a gig runs late.
Rustling up grub and tucking her into bed more often than not these days. And when he slinks in through the door, knees aching and stripped to the bone, there you are with a shy smile and a warm meal.
So what if he takes himself in hand after you leave, stroking his cock to the thought of you down on your knees in that pretty little sundress?
Imagines the wide stretch of your ruby lips as you swallow him down, lipstick smeared an awful mess?
Cums hard to the fantasy of your teary eyes and hiccupy breaths as you choke?
What you don’t know can’t hurt you.
After all, he’s a gentleman... he promises to keep his hands to himself.
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“All right, Sugar Bomb, it’s bedtime.”
Bundled in navy bedding up to her nose, Janey’s wide brown eyes peer up at you from beneath a riot of frizzy curls. Roosevelt, her ever faithful companion, plasters himself to her side. The tip of his tail swishes once, twice before falling limp.
“Ah, c’mon guys. Don’t look at me like that.” You sigh with a fond shake of the head, hip popping out to rest against the doorframe. “I don’t make the rules, I just follow ‘em.”
A muffled response sounds from the lump of little girl, “Nmfhm.”
Squinting, you dip your head and tap the side of your ear, "Pardon?"
“Mnhfmmmm.”
“Ye—eah… Didn’t catch that, Mumbler.”
Janey tugs down the blanket, her mouth pursed in a moue of displeasure. “I said,” she crosses her arms with a huff, “not until Dad gets home.”
Shit.
“M’sorry, baby. He’s still gonna be a while.” Walking across the room, you stop beside the bed and motion your hand back and forth. “Scooch over.”
Gangly limbs fumble as Janey wiggles into the middle of the mattress, her feet tangling in the blankets. Roosevelt takes a toe to the nose during the transition, but flops across her knees all the same.
Together they settle with a bounce of springs.
In the open space, you slide in.
The bed sinks under your weight, a plume of rich cologne tickling your nose; mint-spiced citrus. Cooper. Your stomach swoops, and your heart trips.
“I didn’t see him at breakfast — or lunch!” A pout tugs at her mouth. “Not even dinner. I gotta go home tomorrow. So when am I gonna see him?”
“Oh, bug.” You sigh, propping yourself up on your elbow. “Your dad’s been real busy at work. And I know that’s been hard for you, but I promise to make sure he’s here for breakfast tomorrow.”
“D’you mean it?” Her cold nose digs into your skin. “Me and Roosevelt miss him so much.”
Cuddled into your chest, Janey tosses an arm around your back. Her fuzzy head rests in the crook of your arm, springy curls tickling your skin.
You squeeze her tight and trace your fingertips over her forehead.
“I can do you one better,” you say, bopping the tip of her nose just to hear her giggle - a soft sound that sits warm and gooey in your chest. “I pinkie-promise.”
Her finger loops around yours, so small and fragile.
“I’ll even make pancakes. How’s that sound for a promise?”
“Oh, yes, please! I think Dad will like that,” a wide yawn cuts her off mid-sentence. “He’s sad, but he always smiles when you make food.”
Janey’s words — unexpected as they are sudden — cut so deep it steals the breath from your lungs. You flounder, your heart a throbbing bruise in your chest.
“... Then pancakes it is.”
As if nothing happened at all, she asks, “Do I have to go to bed now?”
“Afraid so, little miss.” Your responding chuckle sounds stilted even to your own ears. “Just you wait. When you wake up, Dad’ll be home.”
“Fi—ine, but I want extra pancakes.” Janey pauses, considers you with narrow eyes, then adds, “With syrup!”
“Whatever you want,” you say with an indulgent smile. “Now... time to sleep. It’s really past your bedtime.”
She gives you one last squeeze then lets you tuck her in nice and tight, blankets pulled up to her chin. You drop a kiss on her forehead while Roosevelt re-settles on the pillow beside her after a quick scratch behind the ears. 
Everything in order, you turn to go only for a little hand to stop you.
“Yes?” you reply, glancing at her from over your shoulder.
“... can you put on one of Dad's movies?”
The tremble in her voice - like she’s about to get scolded - breaks your heart clean down the middle. Stitching on a soft smile, you nod and walk to the darkened TV set in the room's corner.
After fiddling with the nobs, static flashes to life.
“The Man from Deadhorse okay?”
The holotape sliding into the track swallows the sound of her tiny “Yeah.” Starting up with a whirl of machinery, the second-hand Radiation King flickers to life in black-and-white.
A vast plain and bright sky stretches across the screen.
Then Sugarfoot creeps into frame with the one and only Cooper Howard sitting astride the noble steed. The sheriff’s badge on his chest glints in the sun.
“Thank you,” she mumbles, already half-way to sleep.
“Anything for you, baby. Sleep tight.”
Flicking off the lights, you leave the door cracked. Walk away pretending like hearing her whisper goodnight to the TV doesn’t lance through you like lightning.
The desire to whisk her into your arms and soothe all of her ails is almost impossible to ignore.
Somehow, you distract yourself by wiping up the table, then by fixing a plate of dinner for whenever Cooper rolls in. Though all the while, how brokenhearted Janey sounded sits in the back of your mind like a leaden weight.
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When Cooper stumbles into the living room, it’s half past midnight.
You’d gotten up to greet him, curled as you were in an armchair reading, when something about the stern line of his mouth gave you pause.
Where the usual lighthearted greetings lingered, a pensive stillness trembled to life.
Tension crackles through the air; a held breath of agitation. By the faraway gaze and defeated slump of his broad shoulders, it’s plain to see the night didn’t go as intended. And no matter how much you long to soothe, you can’t.
After all, he’s not yours to touch.
Instead, you offer a sympathetic smile and ask, “Rough night, huh?”
Cooper ignores the prompt, squeezing past with a brief touch to your elbow as he makes a beeline for the dry bar. The heat of his body is there and gone in a flash, his cologne teasing your senses. He says, “Thought you’d be asleep by now.”
Your heart flutters in your throat. “Ah,” you lick your lips, “well, I was going to finish my chapter first.”
Humming, he turns his back to you and fiddles with high balls and decanters. The tink of crystal glassware fills the air as he speculates which alcohol goes best with his mood. 
“Thanks again for watching Janey.” He nods in approval and fixes his whiskey neat. “I don’t know what we’d do without you.”
“Oh, it’s no trouble, Mr. Howard.” You shrug. “She’s a sweetheart.”
He shoots you a dry look from over his shoulder, stirring the dark amber of his drink with a forefinger. When he sucks his skin clean with a soft pop - a flash of a pink tongue taunting, teasing - your stomach swoops.
God, I wonder what else his mouth can do.
Flustered, you clear your throat and stare at a spot on the wall.
“How many times do I gotta tell you to call me Coop?” he says, digging through some drawers until he finds what he’s searching for: a lighter. “It must be a million and one by now.”
Flint sparks as flames jump, eating away at the end of a cigarette. Cooper inhales in short little puffs, pulling on the filter. His cheeks hollow, the shadows enhancing the cut of his jaw before the tip catches alight.
“Well,” he exhales, his gaze catching yours through a plume of smoke as he turns, brow raised. “Anything to say for yourself?”
“Old habits die hard, I guess,” you chuckle.
The corner of his mouth lifts in a lopsided smirk. “I’ll drink to that.” He knocks back the last finger of whiskey before refilling with gin.
Springs groan in protest when he drops to the couch, settling in with an outstretched arm and wide spread thighs.
“It’s been a long fucking day,” he rasps.
Gulping, you try to ignore the space at his feet.
The stirrings of desire provoked by the urge to sink to your knees and fill it with your body, to ease tension from those shoulders with your hands, your mouth, your cunt — if he’d let you.
“You heading home?” Nursing the fresh drink, he swallows a mouthful, only to hiss low through his teeth at the chemical burn. His throat bobs, framed by the open collar of his shirt. “Whew! Goddamn, that’s strong.”
“No, I can stay for a while.” A bird on a wire, you perch on the cushion beside him. “Got nothing else planned for tonight, anyhow.”
Cooper snorts. “I doubt that very much. A sweet young thing like you,” he motions towards you with his glass, “I’m sure you’ve got plenty of fellas calling, especially on a Friday night. Don’t waste your time with me.”
“That’s not why I--” you stop yourself short.
Save for the bustling LA avenue right outside the complex, the apartment itself is stone silent for several heartbeats. Words hover on the back of your tongue, catching in the bend of your throat molasses thick.
Meanwhile, Cooper continues to swirl the alcohol in his glass.
Maybe in a different life, you wouldn’t hesitate to express yourself.
But here — with him — you shouldn’t.
Christ sake, he’s a grieving divorcé, you chastise yourself. The last thing he needs is me trying to lay one on him.
When you speak, his name glides off your lips for the first time, clementine sweet, “... Cooper, I’m not wasting my time. I enjoy spending it with Janey - and you.”
“Well,” he husks, hooded eyes dragging down your visage in a slow once-over, “you’re the first one in a long while to feel that way, sweetheart.”
Dripping like honey whiskey from Cooper’s lips, the simple phrase burns its way down-down-down until it blooms like liquid fire in your belly. Warms you all the way to your toes as your heart pounds against your ribcage.
“I mean it.” Your knuckles twist in the pleats of your sundress, bolts of blue fabric bunched around your knees. “Everything I do is because I want to.”
The flash of red nails plucking at the sheer nylon of your stockings snaps up his attention, his gaze snagging - staying as he chases the curve of your exposed leg, hungry.
He wets his lips, and tenses his jaw when he spots how the soft fat of your thigh dimples in because of your garter. “That’s awful sweet of you to say.”
You tremble beneath the intensity of his attention.
Greedy.
Little kisses of awareness spark bright along the path his eyes carve like the caress of shy fingertips.
However, before you’re able to confront him about his interest, the heat leaches from his expression, grows mute and cold like a muzzled dog. 
Readjusting the waistband of his slacks with a tug, he says, “I know you got better things to do than keep an old man company.”
Irritation sparks. “Cooper--”
“If this is about paying you for tonight,” his lips quirk into a sheepish smile, “I won’t be able to yet.” He scrubs a hand through the stubble peppered along his jaw. “The gig tonight didn’t… Well, it doesn’t matter.”
“No, that’s not what I --”
He plows on, “Anyway, the one I’ve got tomorrow should be enough. How about I stop by around seven o’clock? I’ll treat you to dinner as an apology.”
Frustration bubbles beneath the surface of your skin, antagonism thrumming through your veins. Your hands shake almost as much as your voice. “Cooper!”
“I… uh, yes?” He blinks.
Your brows furrow. “You don’t get it,” you say. “I mean, you truly don’t know?”
“I’m afraid there’s a lot I don’t get. You’re gonna have to be more particular.”
Maybe not said in so many words (or at all) but actions speak far louder.
Otherwise, why else would you spend most of your time in his apartment, fill every spare moment with Janey, and reserve evenings for his company?
Hell, you even cook and clean!
Almost scream your interest from the rooftops, and it’s obvious to everyone but him, it seems.
Here you are thinking he was preserving your dignity whenever he ignored a passing comment or lingering touch when, in fact, he’d been oblivious to their existence to begin with.
How a man can be so obtuse when you’re throwing yourself at him is beyond you.
If he wasn’t so captivating…
“Are you kidding me,” you ask, mindful of your tone, “how could you not know?” You throw your hands in the air. “I’ve been — for months!”
“Well, I don’t have a goddamn clue what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” he snarks, setting his glass on the table. “Care to enlighten me?”
Fine. If that’s how he wants to play, let’s play.
When he moves to take another drag from his cigarette, you strike, fingers locking around his wrist mid-lift. And although his glassy eyes narrow, he keeps his hand still.
Waiting to see what you'll do.
Tucking your knee under you for balance, you bend forward and watch his face from beneath your lashes. When your lips wrap around the filter, a dark hunger bleeds into his expression, his pulse a steady thud against the pad of your thumb.
Inhaling, the cherry lights up, a flashbang in the dim overhead light.
Cooper’s breath hitches, and then you’re pulling away with a lungful of smoke; the taste of ash heavy on your tongue.
He tracks your movements with greed, gaze flicking for the briefest of moments past your chin before refocusing on the ring of red lipstick staining white paper.
“If you wanted one,” he chokes, gripping the back of the couch with white knuckles, “all you had to do was ask.”
With a coquettish grin, you exhale to the side and stare at him with hooded eyes. “Is that so?” Plucking the cigarette out of his limp hold, you stub it out in the ashtray. “What if I wanted to ask for something else, Mr. Howard?”
The next moment finds you deposited in his lap, his hands shooting out to grab at your waist only to freeze before they make contact.
“Woah! I--”
“Tell me something.”
Your lips caress the shell of his ear, sharing breath - sharing space as you plaster yourself to his front, arms looped over his shoulders. He jolts, body trembling with restraint.
“Would you give me what I wanted if I said please?”
The distance between you snaps taut with anticipation. “C-Coop,” he stutters. “Call me Coop.”
You hum. “Well, Coop, would you?”
“That depends almost entirely on what you’re asking for, sweetheart.”
Red nails skate along the back of his neck, play in the downy soft hair of his nape just to feel him shiver. And then you’re leaning back with your hands braced on his knees, your legs falling open in invitation.
The hem of your dress bunches around your waist, exposing the soft cotton of your underwear, and the darkened patch of slick soaking through.
“I think you know exactly what I want,” you purr. “Because you want it too. Don’t you?”
He bites down on a strangled moan when your hips arch forward, rocking the soft plush of your ass against the heavy weight of his thickening cock. The zipper digs into your skin as he tents the front of his slacks.
Mouth dropping open, his tongue flicks out to wet his lips - a slick circle of temptation that makes you clench. “I, uh, I don’t…”
Reaching between your splayed thighs, you hook a finger beneath your panties and pull the fabric aside. He jerks forward, exhaling hard at the flash of your soaked cunt and twitching clit.
“C’mon, be honest.”
With a sigh, you gather your arousal on the tips of your fingers.
Cooper’s gaze is a heavy weight pinning you in place as you pretend it’s him dragging his knuckles over the top of your mond. Him dragging calloused fingers up along sticky folds to play with your sensitive clit, ripping soft little mewls from your lips.
“Can’t you see what you do to me, Coop?” you say, pulling your hand away to show the webs of slick stretching between your fingers. “I’m so wet. Please, I’ve wanted you for so long…”
His hips rock against your ass in an aborted thrust. “Shit - shit!” Eyes slamming shut, he grits his teeth and digs his fingers into your sides hard enough to bruise. “We really, uh, shouldn’t - oh fuck, you look --”
“Why not?” Your hand brushes over his groin. “I can feel how hard you are.”
“It isn’t right, that’s why.” He stutters, stumbles over his words, “Besides, Janey…”
“I can be quiet,” you say, lips trembling. “I promise.”
“Goddamnit, you can’t say things like that and expect me not to --” Cutting himself off, strong fingers seize your chin and tilt until you’re met with Cooper’s severe expression, his scorching gaze. “You need to tell me now: are you sure this is what you want?”
There’s no hesitation, “Yes.”
In what world would you refuse?
The words barely pass your lips before Cooper’s bowing his dark head, mouth ravenous as it captures yours in a slick glide of bruising lips and hungry tongues.
He steals your breath, licks into your mouth and traces along the sensitive inside of your lip.
Pulse jump starting, your toes curl over the edge of the cushion and your thighs squeeze the barrel of his chest, kneecaps digging into his ribs.
“Oh,” a moan punches itself out of your throat - a breathy little thing swallowed up by his lips. “That’s--”
Anticipation swells, simmers between you like a band before it snaps. A strong forearm locks around your waist, tugging you into the cradle of his chest until you’re plastered from stem to stern.
Too hungry for tenderness as his free hand slips up to cup the back of your head, fingers catching in the briar of your hair and tugging at the roots.
You claw at his shoulders while sparks of pain ricochet down your neck, sufficing into a prickly flush that heats your blood. “Hnn, Cooper,” you gasp.
He murmurs your name through languid flicks of his tongue and sharp little nips of skin that leave your mouth tender and swollen. When he pulls away to survey his handiwork, his eyes are dark. Fathomless.
"I never thought I'd get the chance to kiss you like this," he says, wicking his thumb over the pillow of your bottom lip. "You taste as good as I imagined."
Dragging your nails across his scalp, you plead, “No more teasing - I can't take it.”
"Well," he grunts, fingers twisting up in your dress, “If that’s how you feel, then you better put those hips to good use and work for it, sweetheart."
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part 2 dropping soon
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starcurtain · 2 months
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2.1 Penacony Spoilers!
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I know the scene after Ratio's "betrayal" can be read a lot of ways but I am shocked I haven't seen more people interpret it as Ratio being so worried about Aventurine that he couldn't stay away even though he was supposed to.
We know:
1) Ratio absolutely knew Aventurine's plan from start to finish, both his gamble to create "death" in the dream and with the three cornerstones. (Wish people would stop underselling Ratio in their analyses; "Three chips are enough" is a direct enough clue that, genius as he is, Ratio would never miss.)
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2) In his own words, Ratio was acting according to Aventurine's instructions while in Dewlight Pavilion and with Sunday and felt that he did a good job not giving them away.
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I think most people are on the same page up to there, but then I've seen a lot of people interpreting this scene after Aventurine leaves Sunday's mansion as Aventurine being genuinely angry at Ratio (possibly after having gaslit himself into thinking Ratio was actually betraying him).
But this doesn't make much sense to me because:
1) Ratio actually has nothing to gain by selling Aventurine out to Sunday. They're on the same side in this mission. Information about a Stelleron on Penacony wouldn't be news anyone with a brain like Ratio's and why would he need someone else's research on Stellerons when he already has ties to the Genius Society through Screwllum and Herta, as well as the Astral Express where the Trailblazer is actively housing a Stelleron?
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2) One of Aventurine's most notable lines of dialogue is how it's perfectly fine and expected for "friends" to use each other and backstab. This is his default understanding of partners--why would he suddenly be mad about something he expected from the start?
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3) If the betrayal wasn't already planned and was just a possibility based on Aventurine's understanding of Ratio, why would he ever have revealed there were "three chips" (aka three cornerstones) in play? If even the betrayal over Topaz's stone wasn't planned, just assumed, why would Aventurine reveal the existence of the third stone? He would gain nothing from doing so.
Instead, I think it makes a lot more sense to interpret Aventurine's frustration with Ratio in this later scene as annoyance over Ratio taking an "unnecessary" risk:
1) As far as Sunday knows, Ratio had just very seriously betrayed Aventurine, completely selling him out and essentially sending him to his execution.
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2) In the scene afterward, Aventurine is out in public in the middle of Penacony where The Family's eyes are always watching, yet Ratio walks right up to him to check on him. Why would someone who just sold you out come up to you immediately afterward to check on your health?!
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3) It's only natural that Aventurine would pump the brakes and go "Wow, didn't think you'd show yourself after you just betrayed me, remember?" Because that's the act they are supposed to be keeping up! They're still being monitored; it's not safe to break character!
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But Ratio is a genius, right, so why would he break character here? From the standpoint of the ploy itself, revealing to the Family that he and Aventurine were still on the same side would only jeopardize the plan, not help it.
The logical explanation, then, is that Ratio went to Aventurine here because he felt like he had to.
He had to check in and make sure the situation was still under Aventurine's control.
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(In fact, the entire exchange through the middle of this scene is Aventurine and Ratio confirming the rest of their plot in a veiled manner: Ratio brings up the plan and mentions what's concealed in the gift money bag, Aventurine confirms the cornerstone is good to go; Ratio asks what his next step will be; Aventurine says he's going to do the insane thing of handing out cash while looking pathetic [aka fishing for Sparkle]. Ratio essentially asks if he's crazy enough to take the final gamble with his own life, which Aventurine confirms, and then Ratio sets them up for the finale by gifting him the doctor's note.)
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Ratio was willing to risk ruining their entire plan--something Aventurine does seem to be frustrated about at first--just to ensure Aventurine still felt all right about the situation.
He needed to deliver his note demanding Aventurine stay alive.
He needed to tell Aventurine to come to him if the situation got too painful to bear.
In short, Ratio was worried enough that he could not stay away even though, for the sake of their plot, it would have made significantly more sense for him not to appear. The gain of breaking character was worth more to him than the risk of being caught.
You honestly don't even have to take this in a shipping context. The real point here is that Ratio is an incredibly good person who wasn't okay with Aventurine's self-sacrificial plan and who felt morally compelled to check on a person in pain. He's a healer through and through, and ignoring Aventurine in this condition--ignoring someone who was taking so much risk on themselves--simply wasn't possible for him, no matter the danger it posed to the plan.
But for those who do ship Ratio and Aventurine... I hope more people will come to see this scene as another example of Ratio's genuine concern for his mission partner! He did not have to appear here at all; it would have made much more sense for him to leave Aventurine to his own devices to uphold the illusion of their "betrayal." He showed up in this scene--very likely against Aventurine's expectations--because he was concerned for Aventurine's situation and wanted to ensure Aventurine knew he could fall back on Ratio's support at any time if the plan went awry.
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tl;dr: I wish people would stop interpreting this scene as the aftermath of a betrayal. Aventurine wasn't ticked off with Ratio in this scene because he felt like he'd genuinely been backstabbed; he was ticked off because Ratio was literally breaking their pre-established "betrayer" character just to be fussy over Aventurine's safety and well-being. (Okay, and to double check on the plan, but let's be real, the first part was definitely more important. 👌)
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grandline-fics · 3 months
Text
Terms of Endearment
DESCRIPTION:  You call them by a term of endearment without realising 
WARNINGS: none that come to mind.
CHARACTERS: Law, Kid, Shanks, Marco, Zoro | Ace, Sabo, Luffy
WORDS: 2,943
A/N: I decided to use Zoro as the final character. Since he and Ace tied in the poll, I might make a second one of these and use Ace and any others people may want.
*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*
MASTERLIST
———————
LAW
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He knew it was irrational to be jealous of an inanimate object. Law knew that it’d be childish to use his Devil Fruit to take it out of your hands and claim your attention for himself. While he had enough restraint to not do that, the temptation to do so was still there. His eyes zeroed in on the book in your hand. He glowered and wondered if it was really that good, did it really deserve such intense, rapt attention that you were giving it. Your eyes were alight as you took in the words, your fingers already tucked behind the next page and ready to turn it as quickly as possible. Law watched you carefully, almost praying for your expression to turn to one of sudden boredom but it didn’t come. 
He supposed he was to blame this time, a lot of this was new to him. While your relationship had only turned to a romantic one recently, you’d both been close for a lot longer. Long enough for you both to be able to spend time together while doing entirely separate things. You only pulled your book out because he had medical charts to look over and update. Law made a mental note to try a bit harder from now on to make the time you had together one of quality.
Finally he sat back in his seat and rubbed his eyes, letting them relax from pouring over the extensive pages now neatly piled on his desk. Slowly he stood and walked to the sofa you were perched on, unmoving and seemingly unaware he was approaching. Law tried to bite back his jealousy once more, wondering how annoyed you’d be if he ‘accidentally’ sent that blasted book out into the depths of the ocean. 
When he sat down in the space beside you, he smiled softly when you leant back so you were against his side. One of your hands dropped to rest on his arm that was around your waist, your fingers lightly making soothing patterns against his tattooed skin. Law supposed this did count as quality time since it meant he could relax with you in a way he couldn’t with anyone else. He allowed himself the time to settle further against the cushion and press his lips against the back of your head. “Don’t forget you and Bepo are on duty tonight.” He reminded you, still having to act as your Captain when necessary. 
“Yes, love.” Your answer was light and casual that he didn’t realise what you’d said at first. Then it echoed in his head ‘love.’ His eyes widened and he peered at the back of your head. There was no way he misheard that. You’d called him love, not Law, not Captain. Love. There was no mistaking the way his heart skipped a beat in reaction. It sounded so right, so effortless the way you said it and he found himself wanting to hear it again. It was also clear that from your lack of reaction, you hadn’t realised what you’d called him because you were partially distracted. Law smirked and for a moment reconsidered his earlier distaste. Perhaps your book wasn’t so bad after all.
KID
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Kid didn’t want to admit it but he was powerless against you. He was stubborn and hotheaded and did what he wanted even if someone had sound logic to convince him whatever he had planned wasn’t wise. If anything if someone did attempt that nonsense with him, he’d be even more extreme with his conviction to do as he wanted and would even think of a way to make his actions even more outlandish and dangerous. Even Killer had a hard time keeping the captain in a somewhat mature state of mind. You however were a different story. Anything you wanted, it was yours all you had to do was ask. 
Kid just never knew how to let you know that was the dynamic between you both. He was never afraid to speak his mind, if anything he yelled it to ensure everyone knew his thoughts. Yet he seemed to bite his tongue from confessing how he truly felt with you. He’d much rather have you beside him every day and enjoy the playful teasing and jokes than make things real and risk you not seeing him that way. Killer had told him one night to just confess already and trust that you felt the same. Kid had rolled his eyes and promptly kept his feelings buried in his chest. It was better, they were safer there than spoken out loud and unable to take them back.
He walked into the kitchen one evening to see you and Killer preparing the crew’s dinner. You looked over at the sound of his naturally heavy steps coming closer and smiled in greeting to see him stop in the doorway. “Here to help, Captain?” You asked, already knowing the answer before it came. Your smile grew when Kid let out a loud laugh and made a show of folding his arms across his chest and leaning against the doorframe. 
“Not unless you want me to poison the crew.” He smirked.
“You’d nurse us back to health if you did infect us though, right?” You joked before looking back to the food you were meant to keep an eye on instead of getting distracted by your handsome Captain. You had to keep reminding yourself to behave and actually respect the chain of command. To let yourself imagine he may genuinely feel the same as you did would only lead to heartbreak in the long run but still you flirted and teased him whenever you could. You supposed you were just a glutton for punishment. You slowed in stirring the food and looked around for the seasonings only to see the small jar on the counter near Kid. 
“Could you pass me that?” You asked nodding your head at what you needed. Kid followed your gaze and immediately pushed himself away from his comfortable position to lift the tiny item. He stepped forward and passed the seasoning into your waiting hand, hating and loving how the brief moment of his fingers skimming against yours brought him such a burst of joy. “Thank you, darling.” You smiled, turning back to the stove. While you hadn’t noticed what you’d said Killer did and he stopped cutting the vegetables to look Kid who was frozen in place, his eyes wide and cheeks turning the same bright red as his hair. 
Darling? The fuck did you mean darling?! Kid’s mind was short-circuiting as he scrambled to gather his wits together and make sense of it all. Had you called him that subconsciously because  was it possible that you felt for him too? God he hoped so because getting to hear you call him something so sweet again would be perfect.
SHANKS
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One of the great things about sailing with an Emperor of the sea like Shanks was the fact that there were many islands under his protection. Any time you landed at one for a visit or even for the excuse of resting from a long stretch of sailing, the locals welcomed you all so warmly that it turned into one big celebration. None of you needed to worry about night watches, chores or other duties and could just sit back and enjoy the peace until Shanks decided he wanted to get back on the waters again. 
As a crew, you were all used to just passing out and sleeping wherever you were at that time and waking up with aches from the uncomfortable positions you’d all ended up. However the town you were staying in was large enough to provide some rooms for you all in one of their inns. Some of you still needed to double up but the beds were extremely comfortable and who were you all to refuse such generosity? One night when the drinking and partying was only just beginning you slowly rose from your seat with a stifled yawn and forced yourself to finish your drink. Shanks was first to notice your movements. “Going for another round of drinks already?” he asked, coming across casual but he knew you weren’t yourself. 
“Nah, I’m turning in early.” You announced, playfully flipping off the crew when they started to boo you for being boring. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Blame Beck, alright. I haven’t slept the last two nights. Goodnight.” You gave no further explanation and disappeared up the staircase to claim a room to sleep in. Shanks looked towards his righthand man with a small scowl. He hoped you hadn’t implied what he thought. Beckman could sense his Captain’s silent interrogation and waved away his worries. “Calm down Cap, you know I’d never make a move on them. It’s just been bad luck we’ve had a share a room together and I snore…apparently.” He explained with a shrug and long drink of his ale. 
Shanks had accepted the answer, knowing Beck would never lie to him. Yet as innocent as it all was, he couldn’t ignore the way he’d felt sick at the thought of you being with another of the crew.  While nothing had exactly happened between you both, it was painfully obvious that there was something there. A playful dance you both engaged in without making an actual step forward into committing and admitting you’d had feelings. Roughly Shanks rubbed his eyes, now wasn’t the time to be thinking on such things, not with alcohol in his system and you not being there to talk to like the adults you were. 
The rest of the night had helped to take his mind off things but it was all undone by the time he entered the room he’d been staying in the entire stay and saw you sleeping soundly in his bed. He was the only one in the crew that didn’t have to share his room with anyone else so why were you here? He approached the bed and shook your arm, watching your eyes crack open and he immediately felt guilty. You really did look exhausted. “Why’re you in my bed?” He asked, trying not to laugh as your eyes slipped closed again. 
“Furthest room…no snoring. Please honey, lemme sleep.” Your voice was thick with sleep and your breathing was growing deeper again. Shanks might have appeared calm but that was the first time you’d ever called him something like that and as far as he knew you’d never called anyone else on the crew something similar. That all but cemented his decision that things needed to be talked about when you were both awake and rested enough to deal with things. Finally he let out a sigh and climbed into what would be his side of the bed while keeping respectable space between you both. “Fine, only because it’s you.”
MARCO
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Your relationship with the ship’s doctor was a fairly new one. You had both known each other long enough to know the general likes and dislikes and the atmosphere on the Moby Dick among the crew was always one of familial harmony so there was never any uncomfortable tension. You were both content to just take things easy and enjoy things as they developed naturally without needed to force things into a certain timeframe. Marco’s personality being so relaxed and carefree was infectious in general and it was no different in your relationship.
Marco stood from his desk and stretched, ready to find you and enjoy the rest of the day with you now that all pressing tasks he’d needed to complete for the day was done. He was just about to leave when Izou entered to talk about organising a banquet for Ace’s birthday. As the two were discussing everything you appeared and smiled at them both before entering the room. 
“Babe, did you see my-” Anything else that came out of your mouth was unfortunately drowned out by the increased heart rate in Marco’s ears. Instead he could only watch as you were busy looking for whatever it was that you’d lost. Marco would have considered himself steady and able to handle most situations but hearing you call him babe for the first time had certainly thrown him and you seemed oblivious to the fact that you’d done so. The only person who truly reacted was Izou, his laugh snapping Marco out of his trance and catching your attention too. “Babe, huh? Didn’t realise things were so serious with you two. Maybe we could plan the wedding too.” Izou teased. 
“What are you talking about now?” You asked with a small smile. You were used to Izou’s teasing like a brother figure would but sometimes he just didn’t make sense. When Izou saw that you weren’t aware of your subconscious slip-up he grinned wider. 
“You called Marco, babe.” He explained. You rolled your eyes and let out an amused laugh. As far as jokes went, it wasn’t the worst one he’d told you but he could do better. Suddenly you became concerned when Izou’s smug grin wasn’t slipping and you had to think. What had you said to Marco when you entered the room? Slowly you pulled your gaze to your boyfriend and he nodded. “Well looks like you two lovebirds need some alone time.” Izou all but sang as he left, no doubt hurrying off to tell Ace and the others about Marco’s new nickname.
“So…” You cleared your throat nervously and gave a small laugh. “Want to forget that happened? I swear I didn’t realise I’d even called you that.” The last thing you wanted was to make Marco think you were forcing him to a point he wasn’t ready for. Thankfully his broad smile was enough to make you relax, his naturally warm aura soothing your brief worries before they had a chance to escalate. Marco stepped closer to you, settling a hand on your waist. “Well even if you stop now, I bet all the others will start. Honestly I’d much rather hear it from your lips. Can I hear you say it again?”
ZORO
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Zoro kept a firm hold on your shoulder as you stumbled, trying to twist weakly out of his grip. Any other instance he would release you if his touch made you uncomfortable but this was a completely different situation. After defeating a group of lackeys, one managed to make one last attack before falling unconscious. You’d been quick enough to intercept whatever it was he threw towards you and Zoro but when it was destroyed it still released a cloud of strange smelling gas. Zoro had been a safe enough distance but you weren’t so lucky. 
At first you’d insisted you were fine but after walking a few paces your balance started to sway and your mind was beginning to cloud. Zoro became concerned by the glazed look in your eyes as you tried one more time to pull out of his unwavering hold, glaring at him. “Jus’ let me go! I don’t know you.”
His eyes widened at your declaration, not only because you sounded so dazed and confused. It was not like your usual bright and familiar way of speaking that made him happy to hear but it was also because hearing you say you didn’t know him filled him with more concern than he was willing to admit. He needed to find Chopper quickly to treat whatever it was you’d been hit with. For now he had to try and keep you calm and prove you were safe with him. “Course you know me. We’re crew-mates, remember? It’s Zoro.”
Abruptly you stopped and bumped into his chest, lifting your head to stare at him, trying to force yourself to focus on his face. Your hand reached out and clumsily gripped his face, tugging him forward enough for you to see his features better. Zoro could see your pupils were blown wide, whatever had been in that vial was some sort of hallucinogenic and he hoped that that was all it was. It could be better dealt with than a poison. Not that seeing you so wary and untrusting of him was any better. Your suspicion didn’t subside when you finally let go of his face and shook your head. 
“You’re not Zoro.” You finally declared, trying once more to get away from him. This time you succeeded only enough to make it a couple of steps but without him there to keep you stable you fell forward. If Zoro hadn’t been there you would have landed face first into the pavement but he caught you swiftly around the waist and lifted you to settle you over his shoulder, deciding that this way of carrying you was the best option. “Definitely not Zoro.” You weakly grumbled into his back as he began walking again. 
“Oh yeah, why’re you so sure of that?” He asked, deciding to at least play along.
“You’re too grumpy…” You explained and added as you fell unconscious. “Zoro’s grumpy but he’s a sweetheart. My sweetheart.” Immediately the back of his neck heated and he froze in place but he couldn’t say or do anything else because thankfully Chopper, Usopp and Nami appeared to regroup and find Luffy. Zoro quickly explained to Chopper that you’d been hit by something but offered no further details. 
“Did you get hit too, Zoro? You’re looking really red.” Chopper asked in concern. Quickly Zoro cleared his throat and shrugged as he laid you on the ground so Chopper could treat you. 
“Uh yeah, might have been. Don’t worry about it though.”
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augustinewrites · 1 year
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sweet nothing ft the fushigojos to make up for the last fic i wrote for them heh
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gojo satoru was not made for domesticity. this has always been something you've known, something you've accepted.
you're just not sure that he has.
it's a little past midnight when he trudges into your bedroom, tired lines creasing his pretty face as he shuffles around the room. he greets you with a quiet hey, and a peck on the forehead before stripping off his uniform, tossing it into the basket with a little more force than necessary.
you raise a brow at him, but stay quiet as he stalks into the bathroom. in the years that you've been together, you've learned better than to back an emotionally repressed sorcerer into a corner and force him to say how he's feeling. especially one who’s just gotten back from assignment.
you try and fail to return to the novel you were reading, staring blankly at the page until gojo steps out. his hair is damp, a towel slung low around his waist as he digs around in the closet for underwear.
there’s no pageantry, no winks or eyebrow waggles or light teasing of, like what you see? stuff that would usually make you roll your eyes, but that you suddenly realize has been missing lately.
okay, something is definitely wrong.
so you shut your book, placing it on the nightstand as he crawls into bed next to you. he says nothing, simply reaching across you to flick off your lamp and plunge the room into darkness.
it’s with a heavy sigh that he rests his head in your lap, grabbing your hand and plopping it into his hair before hugging your legs.
"i can't go to okinawa with you guys tomorrow.”
“satoru,” you can’t help but frown, carding your fingers through his hair. “we’ve been planning this trip for months.”
“i know, i’m sorry,” he says, strained. “you should just take the kids without me. take shoko, or something. megumi’s already stocked up on his spf, and tsumiki was really looking forward to picking seashells—”
“satoru,” you interrupt when you catch his voice break. “are you— are you okay?”
he’s crying, you realize when he doesn’t respond, instead pushing his head deeper into your lap, muttering, “no.”
“talk to me,” you murmur, smoothing your hand down his spine.
"i don't want the kids to think that i didn't want to go."
"you've been talking about seeing me in a bikini for weeks, i think they know how badly you wanted to go."
your comment pulls a small laugh out of him, but it's still interrupted by a sniffle.
"what's this really about?" you ask softly.
"i've been...missing things lately," he mutters quietly. "little league games, piano recitals, science fairs. i leave before they're awake, i get back when they're about to go to bed."
sorcerers who are referred to as 'the strongest' don't get days off. they go where they're needed, when they're needed.
"you know they don't hold any of that against you."
"i know," he says, sitting up to look at you. "but i don't want them - or you - to feel like i'm not choosing you. because i would, but i can't. and i'm just tired. of all of it--"
you wrap your arms around him when his voice breaks once more, pulling him into a hug. he reciprocates immediately, hiding his face in the crook of your neck as he releases a shaky sigh.
"it's not just about being there for the big things," you murmur. "it's about...being there when they need you to be. i can't hit a baseball to save my life, so you're the one who takes them the park to practice. you're the one who taught tsumiki how to read sheet music, and found a way to explain the concept of infinity to a ten year old so he could win the science fair."
without him, there would be no little league games, piano recitals, or science fairs to attend.
"besides, we can always go on vacation some other time," you assure him, rubbing circles across his back. "it's not worth it if you're not with us."
_____
satoru wakes to the sound of muffled laughter. a quick glance at the alarm clock on his nightstand confirms that it's 7am.
the lack of warmth pressed into his side tells him you're up too. it's rare that anyone is awake before he is, especially on weekends or days that he's set to depart. he can hear bits of your conversation with the kids as he gets ready for the day, changing into his uniform and shoving clothes into a bag.
"what shape should i try to make?" he hears you ask. ah, you must be making pancakes.
"a heart!" tsumiki suggests.
"japan!" megumi argues.
he knows you're going to make both. you're doing so when he saunters onto the scene, humming along to whatever song tsumiki's put on the record player as you drop chocolate chips into the batter.
he sweeps your hair away from your neck, dipping his head down to press a kiss to the nape of your neck.
then he turns to the kids, who are in the process of setting the table. "did, uh, you guys already talk about okinawa?"
tsumiki nods, but megumi just shrugs, wrinkling his nose. "there are a lot of jellyfish there anyway."
he of course goes on to inform everyone of the different kinds of jellyfish and all the horrible ways they could kill you. tsumiki chimes in to say that they won't attack unless they're bothered.
you press a mug of coffee into his hand, standing on the tip of your toes to kiss to his cheek before joining the kids at the table with a plate of pancakes.
the scene that unfolds in front of him is a simple one, but one that he's dreamed of all his life. a family sitting together for a meal, laughing and chatting about things that don't really matter.
the world's always going to need him. but this? this is all he needs.
because gojo satoru wasn't made for domesticity, but for his family? he'll try.
6K notes · View notes
fallinforgyu · 5 months
Text
steamroller
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pairing: mingi/fem!reader
genre: childhood best friends to lovers, college au, angst, smut - minors do NOT interact
warnings: no dom/sub dynamic, unrequited love, mutual loss of virginity, mingi has a massive cock, fingering, oral sex (f. recieving)
word count: 10k
a/n: i want to be honest with you guys, this is not a comeback. this is just a little fic that i’ve been working on for the past year or so that has brought me a lot of comfort, and i hope that it can do the same for you. i’m not sure if i’ll ever be active on this blog like i used to be, but please know that i will always be a writer and i will always read every single comment, reblog, and note that is sent to me. thank you for being my readers. i love you all so so dearly <3
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“Hey, Mingi,” Yunho asked, staring at his distorted reflection in the back of a flimsy dining hall spoon, “Have you ever eaten a girl out before?”
 “W-What the fuck?” Mingi choked on his homemade sandwich. “Why would you ask me that?”
 “Because I want to go down on my girl on our next date…” he dropped the spoon on his tray, frowning as it clanged. “We’ve already fucked but I think it’ll be a nice way to show her I really care, you know? But I’ve never done it before.”
 “Wait-” Mingi dropped his voice to a whisper, leaning forward across the table. “You’ve had sex before?” 
 “You haven’t?” Yunho grinned.
 “Of course I haven’t, asshole! Why didn’t you tell me?”
 Yunho shrugged. “Guess I just didn’t think it was that important. What time’s your next class?” 
 “I’m done with classes for the day,” Mingi crumbled the tin foil that previously held his sandwich into a ball. “Yours is at 2:30, right?” 
 The older boy nodded and the two stood up, making their way to the nearest trash can.
 “Besides,” Yunho placed his tray on top of a growing stack of them while Mingi threw away his brown paper bag. “I thought you would’ve already fucked that girl you’re always with by now. What was her name again?”
 Mingi’s eyes widened as your name slipped past Yunho’s lips. “Sh!” he hissed, looking over his shoulder. “I told you to stop asking about her. She doesn’t like me like that.”
 “But you haven’t even tried!”
 “Yes, I have!”
 “Giving her a warm Tootsie Roll that had been sitting in your pocket all day does not count as trying.”
 “But I gave it to her on Valentine’s Day!” Mingi whined. “That counts for something, right?”
 He reluctantly met Yunho’s eyes, groaning when he saw his friend’s lips pressed into a thin line and his head shaking. 
 “You’ve gotta just tell her, dude. You’re never gonna know if you don’t try.” 
 He knew Yunho was right. If he ever wanted anything to change, he’d have to talk to you. Otherwise, he’d spend his entire life wondering what would’ve happened if he would’ve just had the balls to tell you. 
 He’d do it today, he decided, when he met you at your usual spot to walk back to your dorms together. That way, he could just run home if you said you didn’t feel the same way! Perfect plan. 
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Mingi wiped his hands on his pants as he walked to your usual meeting spot, attempting to calm himself down and hype himself up at the same time. 
 He was really going to do it now; he was going to spill his heart out and hope that you somehow ended up in his arms. He’d start with how he’d loved you since you were kids when you took swim lessons with him at the community pool. You jumped right in the water when he was too afraid to duck his head underneath, and he remembered wanting to be brave like you. He loved you in middle school when you noticed him struggling with his math homework and offered to help. He loved you when you introduced him to Yunho, your friend from the student council who would end up becoming his best friend. And he loved you two years later, when he read your summer reading book aloud to you because staring at the pages made you sleepy. 
 He loved you last year when you went to prom together, even when you made a point of announcing to the rest of your group that the two of you were “Just really good friends.”
 Oh, well. He loved you when he gave you that Tootsie Roll three months ago, too.
 And he loved you now, when he approached you slowly and timidly, waving his hand to get you to look up from your phone.
 “Oh, hi,” you grinned, pulling the earbuds out of your ears.
 “Hi,” he smiled. 
 “How was… how was your day?” You asked the same question you always asked when you saw him, but it sounded different this time. It was like an exhale; Like you were breathing the words instead of speaking them. If he didn’t know better, he would’ve thought you were nervous. 
 “Good,” he nodded, gripping the straps of his backpack.
 “Good!” You repeated, clasping your hands together. “So…”
 He braced himself to say it. I’m in love with you. I have been ever since we were kids. I don’t want to be your friend, I want to kiss you.
 But you spoke first, and you said, “I think we should have sex.”
 He thought that he was having a stroke. He thought that you were having a stroke. “W-what did you say?”
 “Hear me out,” you waved your hands and closed your eyes. “We’re the last virgins in our friend group, right? And everyone thinks we’ve already fucked, anyway. So we could just do it together and get it over with so that it’s not as big of a deal when we do it with other people!”
 “I don’t…” His face felt like it was on fire. His stomach burned, and his palms were even sweatier than before. Get it over with?
 You sighed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have dumped that on you so fast. I’ve just been thinking about it for a few weeks now, and…”
 Your voice turned into a murmur in the back of his mind as he analyzed your words. Been thinking about it for weeks now? Thinking about…
 “But you don’t have to decide now, okay? I just wanted to see if you would be up for it.”
 He slowly blinked and nodded back like an idiot. “O-okay. Yeah, I’ll think about it.”
 You nudged his shoulder with yours as you stood up to walk home with him, down the streets of the campus that had been home to you for the past nine months. “And there’s no pressure, alright? You can say I’m gross and you see me like a sister and I won’t be mad,” you laughed.
 You’re beautiful. I want you to be my girlfriend.
 “I’ll think about it,” he repeated.
 “Cool,” you nodded. “How’d that stats test go?”
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You felt sick when you tried to go to sleep that night, nauseated with the thought that you might’ve just ruined everything. 
 You didn’t mean for it to come out so fast. You didn’t mean to make him embarrassed. You only meant to present the idea to him; a sort of business proposal that would benefit the both of you before you went back home for the summer.
 None of your friends were virgins anymore. Only you and Mingi were left, and you’d known each other the longest, anyway. 
 You turned in bed to stare at the pictures of the two of you taped to the collage on your wall. He stood next to you in a cheap rental tuxedo at prom, his mouth pulled into a gummy smile and his arm linked with yours. In another picture, he stood three inches away from you at your middle school graduation, a reminder of the awkward phase the two of you went through when you realized that he was a boy and you were a girl. 
 But there were pictures from before that time, too, like the one of the two of you covered in nasty, artificially-colored green frosting from the cake at Mingi’s Incredible Hulk-themed birthday party in 2005. Or the two of you dressed up as Cosmo and Wanda from Fairly Odd Parents for Halloween in fourth grade. 
 Your oldest friend. The person who’d seen you through every phase of your life – even your emo phase in seventh grade – and stuck by you nonetheless. 
 You thought of his full lips and his broad shoulders, his big hands. He was handsome, there was absolutely no arguing that, but he was also kind and gentle and sweet. He was always the first to notice when something was wrong and the last to believe you when you told him you were fine. 
 Being his lover would be amazing, but not if it meant you couldn’t be his friend anymore. You wouldn’t fall unless he asked you to because losing him wasn’t an option.
 You’d tell him tomorrow to forget it. That it was stupid, and you changed your mind. 
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Mingi told Yunho about it at lunch the next day. 
 “She talked to me yesterday,” he mumbled, picking the peel off of a clementine.
 “And? What’d she say?” Yunho leaned forward, anticipating Mingi’s answer.
 “She wants to fuck me.”
 Yunho let out a laugh of disbelief. “Don’t play with me right now.”
 “She does! She said, and I quote, ‘I think we should have sex.’”
 “Well,” Yunho chuffed, “There you go, buddy! I told you all you had to do was talk to her!”
 Mingi knew he didn’t really talk to you. He knew he just listened (well, half-listened, half daydreamed about what losing his virginity to you would be like) while you gabbed on about how it was a win-win situation.
 But Yunho seemed so happy… No, proud of him. His validation made Mingi feel good – like this was the right decision.
 “So, when are you going to do it?” Yunho squeezed a gluttonous amount of ketchup on his dry chicken patty.
 Mingi stared at his Ziploc bag of slightly brown apple slices. “Well… I haven’t really told her I’d do it yet.” 
 “What? Why not?”
 “I just didn’t know if it was right…”
 “The girl that you’ve been in love with since you were a kid wants to give you her virginity and take yours at the same time, and you don’t know if it’s right?”
 Mingi smiled. “Yeah… I know.”
 “Tell her today. I bet you’ll do it before you go home for the summer if you tell her today.”
 “Okay, yeah.” Mingi nodded, feeling more sure of himself. “I’ll tell her today.”
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You had headphones in when you waited for Mingi after school, but you weren’t listening to any music. There was already too much buzzing around in your head, and music would only overwhelm you even more.
 You chewed on your nailbeds and rehearsed your script in your head. Hey, I was way off base yesterday. That was weird and I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that. Let’s just pretend it never happened and enjoy the summer, okay?
 You saw his sneakers first. They were clean, exactly how they looked when he bought them four months ago. 
 He was smiling when you looked up.
 “Let’s do it.”
 “Wait… really?” You tilted your head to the side, trying not to stare at his lips.
 “Yeah. You were right, it just makes sense for us to do it together.” His cheeks were pink.
 You slowly nodded, trying to convince yourself that it was a good idea again. “Right. Yeah… yeah, it makes sense.” You clapped your hands together. “Well! It’s settled then! Is Yunho leaving town anytime soon?”
 “I don’t… I don’t think so?” 
 You stood up to begin your walk home, and Mingi followed suit.
 “Well,” you sighed. “My roommates are probably home, but we should be fine if we’re quiet.”
 Mingi stumbled a bit as he walked. “Wait, we’re doing this right now? Like, literally right now?”
 “No!” you turned your head towards him as you spoke, but you didn’t look him in the eye. “But don’t you think we should do other stuff first? And like… work up to the big thing?”
 “Other stuff?”
 “Just to warm us up. You know, so it won’t be as scary when we…” You pictured Mingi naked and on top of you, his eyebrows furrowed and his pretty lips parted in a moan. You cleared your throat. “You know.”
 “O-okay,” he nodded. “Okay, yeah.”
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 Mingi sat on your bed with his hands tucked underneath his thighs to hide how badly they were shaking. He looked around the room, jealous of your full-size bed. He and Yunho were in a shared room dorm, and his feet always hung off the end of his twin mattress. 
 Meanwhile, you scrolled through your phone to find a good playlist. You hit shuffle on the first one that suited your taste and a familiar song tumbled out of your cheap Bluetooth speaker.
 “You’ve kissed someone before, right?” You put your phone on your desk and walked to your bed.
 “Yes,” he nodded. 
 You narrowed your eyes at him. “Who?”
 He squirmed, adjusting his hands under his thighs. “My lab partner in ninth grade. She felt me up under the bleachers.” I was thinking about you the whole time, his internal monologue chimed in, the words never making it past his lips.
 “Gross,” you laughed, sitting on your bed. “Just let me lead, okay? Try to mirror what I do.”
 You reached up to hold his jaw, and his entire body stiffened.
 “Hey.” You waved your hand in front of his face. “Don’t be nervous, Ming. It’s just me. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want t–”
 “I want to!” He interrupted. “Please. I really want to. I’m just nervous.”
 You rested both your hands on his shoulders. “It’s just me,” you repeated. “The same me that I’ve always been.”
 Yeah, he thought, that’s the problem.
 “Just follow my lead.” You gave him an encouraging smile, which he weakly returned. “It’ll be fun, okay?”
 Mingi nodded, closed his eyes, and held his breath. A few seconds later, he felt your lips against his, and they were even softer than he imagined. He was sure that his were chapped, and he regretted not wearing lip balm more often like his mom always told him to.
 “See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
 He opened his eyes at the sound of your voice and gave you a tiny shake of his head.
 “Do you want another one?” You smiled. 
 “Yes, please,” he whispered.
 You kissed him again, a little bit longer this time. Your lips naturally slotted with his, and butterflies filled his tummy when you rested your hand on his thigh.
 And then your lips parted. He wasn’t sure what to do other than follow your lead like you’d told him to, so he let his lips part, as well.
 His breath caught in his throat when your hand slid down to his neck. He barely had time to recover before you slipped your tongue in his mouth, playful and teasing and light. 
 “O-oh,” he breathed, a shiver running through his body.
 “How was that?” 
 “Good. I liked… I liked the part when you used your tongue.”
 “Shut up,” you laughed. “You wanna… keep going?”
 “Yes,” he nodded.
 And that was how Mingi had his first makeout session with his childhood best friend. He tried to keep his whimpers to a minimum, but it was hard to when your kisses progressively got more heated. Your tongue in his mouth was unlike anything he’d ever felt before, and he blushed at your giggle when he tried to mirror your movements.
 “Such a fast learner, Ming.”
 “T-thanks…”
 “You know you can touch me, right? You don’t have to sit on your hands.”
 He looked down, completely unaware that his hands were still tucked underneath his thighs. They were both numb now, and they tingled when he pulled them up. He flexed and relaxed them to get his blood flowing again.
 “I’ve never…” he whispered, “I’m sorry. I don’t- I don’t know where to touch.”
 You gave him a smile laced with what might have been pity and took his big hand in yours, moving it to rest on your hip.
 “What about the other one?” He whispered, even quieter than before.
 And then you were lifting his other hand and placing it on your cheek. His breath caught in his throat again.
 It’s strange to truly look at someone whose face has always been a constant in your life. You looked different, but also the same. People change, but they don’t. 
 Mingi was sure of one thing: your face was the most beautiful he’d ever seen. He liked it ten years ago, and he liked it now.
 He kissed you first the next time. And since he’d gotten a little more confident, he let his lips part and used his tongue first, too. He kept his hands where you’d placed them and you kept yours around his neck. You kissed and kissed and kissed, and for now, that was enough.
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It didn’t stay enough for long. You and Mingi practically ran to your dorm after school every day, barely taking time to breathe before attaching your mouths together once your door was shut. Your obsession with Mingi’s lips had only grown since you started spending most of your free time kissing them.
 His hands were nice, too. They’d gotten a little bit more curious since that day, sometimes giving your hip a gentle squeeze or moving up to your waist while he kissed you. Any noise you’d make would immediately be met with a “sorry” – a constant reminder that no matter how attractive the boy you were making out with was, he was still just the same old Mingi.
 And the little reactions he’d make were precious. He’d gasp when you touched his thighs, he’d hum when you stroked his neck, he’d whimper when you took his plump bottom lip between your teeth. The more you worked him up, the luckier you felt to have been the only person to have ever seen him like this. 
 You wondered how that could be while you sucked his lips. Plenty of girls had crushed on Mingi over the years. You knew because they’d always ask you if you were his girlfriend before they tried to confess to him. No matter how many times you told them you weren’t, he never ended up dating any of them.
 You detached from his lips with a smack. “Mingi?”
 “Mm?” He blinked, eyes slightly glazed over and lips swollen from kisses.
 “Why haven’t you had a girlfriend before?”
 His eyes widened for a split second, and he tried to cover it up by blinking a few times. “Uh… just never met the right person, I guess.”
 “But girls have been throwing themselves at you for years… You didn’t ever want to try anything with them?”
 “Guess I just wanted to wait for someone that I really…” he swallowed. “Trust.”
 That made sense. The thought of doing all of these things with a stranger was horrifying, but you felt safe with Mingi. You smiled, kissing the corner of his mouth.
  “I trust you too, Ming. Wanna try something new?”
 “O-okay, yeah.”
 You tapped his shoulder twice. “Lay down.”
 Like a puppy who’d just been given a command, he lowered himself against your pillows, swinging his legs up so he was laying on the bed. You swung a leg over his hips to straddle them, and his eyes immediately widened. 
 You’d never really taken time to admire how pretty Mingi was. His chest, which was more toned than you’d realized, was swelling and deflating as he attempted to stabilize his breathing. His Adam’s apple dipped as he swallowed, and you’d be stupid to not notice the way his thick thighs tensed and relaxed underneath his black jeans. 
 And then you leaned down, hovering over him to study his face. You ran your thumb over his sharp jaw as you took in his other features; The same darkness in his eyes that wasn’t mysterious, but warm and inviting. The straight line of his nose, the pointed tip of it. The birthmark under his eye, the one on his cheek, the acne scars that dotted his cheeks like stars. Those fucking lips.
 Mingi was really fucking cute. Had he always been?
 You kissed him again, smiling when a little whimper escaped his lips. 
 “Cute,” you mumbled, unaware that the word had left your mouth until it was too late.
 Or maybe it was a good thing that you said it. Mingi’s response was enough to make you think that, at least. He moaned again, louder this time, as he pushed his hips forward against yours. 
 Mingi always got hard during your makeout sessions, but you always pretended not to notice to spare him from any embarrassment. However, pretending not to notice was incredibly difficult with his bulge grinding against your heat.
 He moaned at the stimulation, but quickly interrupted himself. “Ooh-sorry! I’m so sorry, that wasn’t on purpo–”
 You clapped a hand over his mouth. “I told you we have to be quiet.”
 He nodded, eyes wide as your hand stayed pressed to his mouth. You slid it down to rest on his chest when you whispered in his ear. “Don’t be sorry. That’s what I wanted to try.”
 You pushed and pulled your hips against his erection again in one experimental thrust, grinning when his eyes screwed shut and his lips pressed together. You cupped his face to guide his lips to yours again.
 It was as uncoordinated as two virgins could be. Though your lips easily moved together from a week of practice, neither of your hips were skilled enough to set any sort of rhythm. You just desperately grabbed at each other, groping and humping and kissing like your lives depended on it. 
 Soon, you could feel your soaking panties uncomfortably sticking to your core. The fabric gave you the tiniest bit of stimulation, dragging against your clit and ever-so-slightly teasing you. And the boy underneath you was driving you insane, with his messy kisses and his tiny groans. 
 You didn’t know what the end goal was, but you knew that it felt better when you grinded your hips faster, so that’s what you did. 
 “Ah-” You silenced Mingi’s moan by pressing your mouth to his again, sighing as he hummed against your lips.
 And then he whimpered your name. He’d said your name a thousand times before, but he’d never said it like this. Like it was a cry for help, a desperate plea for something. The sound fueled the fire of your desperation as you continued moving your hips, hoping to God that he’d say it again.
 And he did. You attached your lips to his neck and he whined your name once more, followed by a tiny breath of, “O-oh, god…”
 His little sounds were getting better and better. Your name slipped past his lips between breathy whimpers and choked hums, and you kept licking and sucking his neck while you grinded your clothed, soaking pussy against his painfully hard, just as clothed dick.
 Finally, you took pity on the poor thing. His moans were getting increasingly desperate, and you could tell that he was doing everything in his power to keep them quiet. You hovered your lips directly over his ear.
 “What’s wrong, baby?”
 “A-ah-mph!” He squeezed his eyes shut as he writhed on the bed, pressing his hand to his mouth to keep his pathetic noises in. His whole body was shaking when you sat up.
 A wet patch on the crotch of his jeans made the dark fabric even darker, and a horrified expression washed over his face as your eyes immediately landed on it. If he would’ve looked between your legs, he would’ve noticed that your shorts were just as soaked, but he didn’t. He only saw your dumbfounded expression as you tried to figure out what you were supposed to say. All that came out was, “D-did you just…?”
 You just made a boy cum. From kissing. This had to have been the best day of your life. 
 “I’m sorry,” he breathed, pushing you off of him. He immediately stood up, locating his jacket on your desk and holding it in front of his pants as he slid his bag over his shoulder. “I’m… I’m sorry.” He looked down the whole time, never letting his eyes meet yours as he slipped his way out of your bedroom door. 
 “Mingi!” you called two seconds too late. “You’re not going to–” 
 You sighed, letting your voice get quiet. “Help me?”
 He didn’t come back, leaving you with soaking panties and an unsatiated pulsing between your legs that wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. 
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You texted him the next morning.
 It’s not a big deal, Ming. Do you want to come over?
 He didn’t respond. You went the whole weekend without hearing from him, and even when you waited for him at your usual spot on Monday, he didn’t show. You sent him another text. 
 Stop being stupid. I miss you.
 He didn’t respond to that, either. By Tuesday, you were so anxious to see him that you waited outside his lecture hall after his morning class, scanning the crowd of faces for him. He wasn’t difficult to find; his tall frame easily distinguished him from the rest of the crowd, even with his shoulders slouched. He made eye contact with you and immediately put his head down, walking faster. 
 “Mingi!” You yelled, weaving through the crowd to follow him. 
 His pace quickened, his long legs carrying him out of the brick building and through the grassy common area, skillfully dodging flying frisbees and strategically-hung Enos. 
 “Mingi! This…” you panted. “This isn’t fair! Your legs are longer than mine!”
 He flinched with each call of his name, but he didn’t turn around. He didn’t slow down. You picked up your pace to a jog, huffing as you tried to catch up to him. “MINGI! Stop fucking ignoring me!”
 After quickening your steps to a borderline sprint, you finally got close enough to grab the handle of his backpack, yanking him backwards and causing both of you to collapse on the lawn in the process. 
 “Ow…” he whined, rubbing his butt and attempting to brush grass off of it.
 “You…” you breathed. “You fucking suck. Why aren’t you talking to me?”
 “W-What do you want me to say? What the hell am I supposed to say after humiliating myself like that?”
 “I told you it wasn’t a big deal, stupid! I wanted to make you feel good!”
 His ears burned as he looked at you with wide eyes, a mixture of embarrassment and shock painting his face. 
 “And you… you didn’t even stay and help me. I was more turned on than I’ve ever been in my life, and you just got up and left! Right after I helped you finish! Who the fuck does that?”
 “I…” he breathed, trying not to pass out. He made you more turned on than you’d ever been in your life? “I didn’t think you wanted me to…”
 “You didn’t think I wanted to feel good, too?”
 “No!” he stammered, “No, I just… I didn’t think, I mean, I thought you would think I was gross.”
 You sighed, rubbing your temples. “Mingi, the entire point of having sex is to feel good. I didn’t think you were gross, I was jealous of you.”
 And see, that was where he fundamentally disagreed with you. As far as Mingi was concerned, the entire point of having sex was to be intimate with someone you love. Feeling good was just a bonus. 
 He loved you so fucking much. Knowing that you didn’t feel the same way about him made his chest physically ache, but he knew that you needed him, and that was more than he could have hoped for. If you didn’t love him, at least you could love the way he made you feel. 
 “I’ll make it up to you next time,” he assured you. “I promise I’m gonna make you feel good.”
 Your smile reappeared, and he felt like he’d been hit by a train.
 “Yeah,” you laughed, punching his shoulder. “You better. Wanna try that new boba place?”
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The boba was mid, but it was nice to just be in Mingi’s presence again. He crumpled his straw wrapper as he told you about his weekend, how his mom’s birthday was coming up, and how things were getting more serious between Yunho and his girlfriend. 
 You liked the sound of his voice. You remembered when it used to crack all the time in middle school, but it had since balanced out into a smooth baritone, cascading your ears in warmth. 
 “Are you listening to me?”
 “What? Yes.” 
 “No, you’re not,” he scoffed. ”You’ve been staring at my lips for the past five minutes.” 
 “Yeah, because you have foam on them.”
 He immediately wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his ears flushing a bright red as he mumbled a disingenuous “fuck you.”
 The foam was only a scapegoat. You both knew how much you loved his lips. 
 “Speaking of fuck you…” You shifted in your metal chair. “When… when are we going to… you know…”
 “What?”
 “You know…” You looked to the side, your eyes widening. 
 His heartrate doubled. “Oh. Um… I don’t know. Was there… did you have a specific time in mind?”
 “Sorry, didn’t realize I needed to make an appointment,” you laughed. “I don’t know. I just… I want to. Soon.”
 He remembered your words. Get it over with. 
 “Okay,” he nodded. “We can. Soon.”
 You picked up his hand that was resting on the table to play with his fingers, pinching them between your smaller ones while you chewed on a ball of sweet tapioca. 
 He swallowed and watched you, his eyes glazing over. I love you, I love you, I love you.
 Your stomach dropped a bit when you met his starry eyes. You didn’t know why.
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Two days later and you had Mingi underneath you again, his hands gripping your waist while you sucked on those perfect lips. 
 “Gonna make you feel good this time…” he whispered, trying to catch his breath between your feverish kisses. “Promise.”
 You just rested your hand on the back of his neck and sighed.
 “Can I… Is it okay if I take your shirt off?” He asked, his face a deep shade of red. 
 “Yeah,” you breathed. “It’s okay.”
 But he didn’t move, so you tugged on the hem of your shirt and lifted it off yourself. His breath caught in his throat when he saw your half-naked torso, covered by nothing but a slightly too tight purple bra that you got on clearance a few years ago.
 He shakily brushed a fingertip over the little bow in the center of it.
 Your face felt so hot you were sure water would boil if someone rested a pot on your cheek.
 “Can you… take your shirt off, too? This feels weird.” You covered your torso with your arms.
 “O-oh, yeah,” he nodded. “I’m sorry. Yeah.”
 You scooted back so that he could sit up, his trembling hands lifting his shirt over his head.
 His chest was flushed red. That was the first thing you noticed. And his belly was lean, but also soft and smooth, puffing and deflating with his shallow breath. 
 You rested a hand on his chest to feel his heartbeat. He just watched you.
 “We’re not kids anymore…” you whispered. There was a sad tone to your words, almost as if you were grieving.
 “No,” Mingi shook his head, his voice barely audible. “We’re not.”
 It was a beautifully horrifying realization. The kid you used to make mud soup with was a man now, and he was touching you like you’d never been touched before.
 You kissed him then. To comfort him, to comfort yourself, to be closer to the person who already knew you better than anyone in the universe.
 You unclasped your bra and just let it loosely rest on top of your chest.
 “Hey,” Mingi whispered, “Just me, remember?”
 Right. Just Mingi. 
 You tossed your bra to the side, instinctively covering your boobs with your hands.
 “Please…” Mingi placed his hands over yours. “I want to see you.”
 He sighed when you removed your hands, just as slowly.
 “Pretty…” he mumbled. “Is it okay if I touch you?”
 You nodded and he ran his hands over the lines on your sides where your bra had been digging into your skin. You cursed yourself for not buying a new one before this. Maybe he’d like one of those silk push-up bras you always saw your friends wearing, or perhaps one of those flimsy lace bralettes that you saw in the windows at Victoria’s Secret last week.
 “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, and the insecurity in your stomach almost vanished completely. Almost. 
 He leaned forward, cupping one of your tits in his huge hand and gently kissing the other. You gasped when you felt his wet tongue drag across your nipple, and he looked up at you for reassurance while you laced your fingers through his hair. 
 “Does that feel good?”
 “Yes,” you breathed. “Y-yeah, that feels good….”
 He gently latched his mouth to your nipple, sucking and then running his soft tongue over the flesh to soothe it. You didn’t mean to, but you arched your back, and his free hand found a place in the dip of your waist.
 You subconsciously tugged on his hair as he sucked your other nipple. He worshipped your tits, kissing, sucking, and licking them while you quietly moaned, grinding against his erection. You wanted to let him continue all night, but soon,  the pulsing between your thighs started to become unbearable. 
 “Ming… need you to fuck me,” you whispered. “Please.”
 He pulled back a bit, his plump lips glossy and his adam’s apple dipping as he swallowed.
 “Okay.”
 He didn’t move and you didn’t, either. You just looked at each other, breathing heavy though you’d hardly done anything yet.
 “... Nobody’s ever seen me naked before,” he said under his breath.
 You shook your head. “Me neither.”
 He kissed you again, but it was really just so that you wouldn’t watch him while he took his pants off. And you weren’t sure what you were doing, you weren’t sure why, but once both of your pants were off, you reached a hand down and felt him through the thin fabric of his boxers.
 He took in a sharp inhale. 
 “I’m sorry,” you said, “Is this okay?”
 And then you felt a large hand between your thighs, softly rubbing you through your panties.
 It felt so much different from when you did it to yourself. More pleasurable, sure, but also more vulnerable. More intense.
 Neither of you knew what to say. You felt how hard he was against your hand. He felt the little wet patch soaking through your panties. You both needed this desperately, and yet for a few moments, nobody moved. 
 “Y-you can take them off of me.” Your voice was barely above a whisper and it cracked in the middle, but you were proud of yourself for getting the words out. 
 His hands shook when he slid them down your thighs. Before he could stare for too long, you slid your fingers under the waistband of his boxers and pushed them down. 
 You weren’t sure if he was big or not. You’d never seen a penis in real life before, only in porn, and he looked about the same size as what you’d seen in porn. Did that mean he was big?
 He looked down, and you realized you were staring. “Sorry,” you stammered, forcing yourself to look him in the eye again. 
 “N-no, it’s okay. Is it… I mean, do you like it?”
 Your face broke into a smile. Mingi, Mingi, Mingi. “Yes, it’s  lovely, Ming. Stop stressing.”
 You reached for a condom on your nightstand, closely inspecting the foil packet for instructions. 
 “I think I can do it,” he mumbled, gently taking the condom out of your hand.
 “You know how to?”
 “I think so.”
 After a few minutes of him fumbling with the latex, his lips were on yours again and you could feel his dick resting on your thigh. 
 “Are you ready?” He pulled back for a moment to look you in the eye.
 “M-mhm,” you nodded.
 He kissed your cheek and held his dick in his hand, aligning himself. A painful stretching sensation flooded your lower half as his thick tip poked at your entrance. 
 He inhaled shakily. “C-can I… can I push it in now?”
 You nodded. “I… think so? Y-yeah… go ahead…”
 He pushed his hips forward, and the sensation intensified when you felt his tip enter you with a pop. The pain was excruciating, unlike anything you’d ever felt before. A horrid stretch, almost like a burn, splitting you open in the worst way. Tears pricked into your eyes.
 “OW! Ow, ow, ow, stop, stop, stop!” You pushed his broad shoulders away, whimpering when he frantically pulled out. That hurt, too.
 “O-oh my god, are you okay? What did I- D-did I do something wrong?”
 You looked down at his dick, which was still fully hard. He was big, you supposed. Really big. With his cock resting on your stomach, it went all the way up to your belly button. You felt stupid for thinking you could take him without any prep.
 And you also felt embarrassed. This wasn’t how your first time was supposed to go. This didn’t happen in porn. You were supposed to be screaming his name, he was supposed to be groaning yours and pounding you into the mattress. You were supposed to be making him feel good, and he was supposed to be doing the same for you. A lump formed in your throat and you attempted to blink the tears out of your eyes, which probably just made them more teary. 
 “No,” you breathed. “I think… I don’t think I’m wet enough.”
 He frowned. “Did we not kiss for long enough?”
 “No, no, we did.” Guilt crept into your chest. You knew this wasn’t how he pictured his first time going, either. 
 His frown intensified as a pained look washed over his face. “Are you not… is it because you’re not attracted to me?”
 “Stop it, Mingi. It’s not for any reason. You didn’t do anything wrong. Let’s just… we can get lube from the store and try again tomorrow, okay? I can jerk you off to help you finish if you want.”
 His heart ached. He didn’t want you to ‘help him finish.’ He wanted to make love to you, soft and tender and slow. He wanted to hold your face and kiss your forehead and tell you how much you meant to him.
 But his dick was painfully hard, and there aren’t many times that the love of your life offers to help you finish even though they don’t feel the same way about you, so he said, “Yes, please.”
 You wrapped your fingers around his erection, biting your cheek to stop yourself from crying. He bit his lip to do the same.
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Mingi couldn’t make eye contact with the cashier when he bought lube from the drug store the next day. His hands shook as he put his card into the reader, and they kept shaking while he entered his pin number. The machine dinged and he yanked his card out, snatching the plastic bag from the cashier before they had time to offer him a receipt. His face burned the entire walk to your dorm and didn’t stop burning once he got there.
 His breath caught in his throat when you opened the door. “I got the…” he held the plastic bag up. “I got the stuff.”
 You laughed and stepped back to let him inside. “You make it sound like we’re about to do drugs.”
 Yeah, something like that.
 Mingi didn’t say anything when you sat him on your bed and straddled his hips. He whimpered a little bit when you pressed your lips to his, and you assumed that it was just because he was horny. 
 You held the side of his neck and worked your tongue against his, rolling your hips forward to grind against his growing bulge. He whimpered again, and you moved your face down to suck on his neck. 
 “I think you need to finger me first,” you whispered in his ear.
 “W-what?” He blinked up at you for a moment, his eyes wide and starry before he shyly looked away. “I’ve never… I mean… I don’t know how to do that.”
 “It can’t be that hard, right? You just take your fingers and, like… put them in me.”
 “I think it’s a little more complicated than that.”
 “Well… I’ll just tell you what feels good, okay? I do it to myself all the time.”
 His eyes snapped up again as he imagined you touching yourself. He’d thought about it before, late at night when he was jerking off, but hearing you say it out loud made him feel dizzy. Flames erupted across his cheeks again, and his body tensed.
 Your face burned with the realization of your confession. “Stop picturing it.”
 “S-sorry.”
 “I just need your fingers first, okay? I can’t… I can’t take your dick without some prep first.”
 It was like you wanted him to cum in his pants again. He nodded and reached for the plastic bag, fishing out the lube and taking it out of its little purple box. 
 “I’m sorry about yesterday, by the way.” His voice was quiet.
 “There’s nothing to be sorry about. That’s why we’re doing this together, you know? Because we feel safe around each other.”
 He nodded.
 “But for the record…” You lowered your head, still embarrassed about how yesterday went. “I’m sorry, too.”
 “There’s nothing to be sorry about.” He smiled.
 You kissed him, and you were so glad that you were kissing him. 
 “I’m really going to need you to walk me through this because I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing.” His cheeks were a splotchy red. 
 You laughed. “I promise it sounds scarier than it actually is.” You pulled your shirt over your head, embarrassed again when you realized you were wearing the same purple bra that you wore yesterday.
 “Shit,” you breathed. “I meant to wear something nicer for you today. Sorry.”
 For me? Mingi thought. For me? 
 But he said, “I like this one. It’s cute.” And he touched the little bow again.
 “Thanks.” You climbed off of his lap to take your shorts off. “Lift your arms.”
 He obeyed, and you lifted his shirt over his head. It didn’t need to be off yet, you supposed, but you’d been dreaming about Mingi’s lean abdomen all day and you didn’t want to wait another second to have it under your fingertips again. 
 You laid down on the bed and slid your panties off, but didn’t spread your legs yet. You felt vulnerable again, especially considering that Mingi still had his pants on. 
 “C-can you–” you started.
 “Yeah,” Mingi nodded, already unbuttoning his pants. When they were off, he sat back down and gently brushed his fingertips over your thigh. 
 “Okay,” he breathed. “Tell me what to do.”
 “Just… just kiss me for a second.” The truth was, you weren’t even really sure how to give him instructions, and you wanted to buy yourself some time. You usually just felt around until something felt good, and you weren’t sure how to explain that to him.
 He kissed you. You decided that even if he was always too big for you, even if you couldn’t ever take his full length, you’d probably be just as happy kissing him and jerking him off like you did last night.
 You felt his hand on your inner thigh and you liked the feeling. 
 “Okay, so…” you inhaled deeply. “Just start with one. And you can just kinda… feel around? I’ll tell you what feels good.”
 “Okay,” he nodded, taking a deep breath, too. “Okay.”
 He dripped some of the lube onto his fingers, rubbing it with his thumb in an attempt to warm it up. Your body tensed as you felt his finger slide between your folds, shaking slightly as he rubbed you up and down.
 He seemed to stop breathing for a moment. His eyes just raked over your body, all wide and starry while he clumsily touched you. 
 “You’re gorgeous,” he breathed. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
 “M-Mingi, Ah-” You let out a tiny yelp when his fingertip brushed your clit.
 “Did I hurt you?” He immediately stopped, taking his fingers away. 
 “N-no, that felt good… really good…” You nodded. 
 He tried to find the spot again, clumsily drawing circles around it.
 “S-so good. Yeah, r-right there,” you sighed.
 His fingertip slipped a little too far to the left. 
 “N-no, back where it was.”
 After a few seconds of “Here?” and “No, here,” back and forth, he found the spot again and gently traced it. 
 Your eyes rolled back and closed as your body twitched, trying to get used to the sensation of being touched by another person. 
 Then his fingers slid further down, but it was intentional this time. 
 Mingi looked you in the eye and didn’t say anything as he gently circled his fingertip around your opening, coating it in lube and spreading your arousal at the same time. 
 You didn’t say anything, either. You couldn’t if you tried. But he understood your tiny nod and the look of desperation in your eyes, so he gently pushed his finger inside. 
 His long, thick finger went deeper than your own ever had, but it didn’t hurt. “O-ohh,” you breathed, shivering.
 Mingi was at a loss for words. Your pussy was hugging his finger so tight and you felt so warm and the tiny noises that you were making were about to send him over the edge. “Fuck…” he sharply inhaled through his teeth, staring up at the ceiling for a minute so that he didn’t cum untouched.
 “M-Mingi,” you breathed, “Go like this.” And then you held a finger up and curved it inward, and he immediately obeyed.
 Your back arched to a borderline uncomfortable degree as you let out a pathetic little noise, and Mingi seriously was on the edge of an orgasm already.
 “I-is that a sensitive spot?”
 “Do it again,” you commanded. “Mingi, do that again.”
 He did, and then he did it a few more times, pumping his finger and setting a rhythm. You were probably being a little too squirmy, but you couldn’t help it. Nothing had ever felt like this before. 
 “Fuck,” you breathed. “Add another one.”
 Mingi meant to ask ‘Are you sure?’ but his head was so fuzzy with arousal that he just obeyed, pushing his middle finger in next to his pointer finger.
 “S-shit,” you gasped, sitting up and holding his wrist. “Hold on a sec– fuck.”
 “Are you okay?”
 “It feels good,” you nodded. “Just forgot how thick these are.”
 He understood. He could almost feel you stretching out, and he suddenly felt horribly guilty for not offering to do this before he attempted to put his dick inside of you yesterday.
 “You’re doing amazing,” he encouraged you, nodding slightly. “J-just let me know when you want more, okay?”
 “C-can you…” You blushed, too shy to complete your sentence. 
 He knit his eyebrows at you, giving you an encouraging nod. He felt your pussy tighten around his fingers, and he tried not to groan.
 “What do you need, baby?” He soothed, “Just tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you.”
 Your face burned. Mingi had never been more attractive to you, with his lips swollen and his cheeks flaming and his fingers deep inside of you. He was gently thrusting his fingers, massaging your g-spot, tracing your opening, and stretching you out all in a fluid motion.
 “C-can you play with my clit again while you do that?” You whispered. 
 He nodded immediately, smiling and circling his thumb around your pebbled clit. 
 “O-ohh…” you moaned, burying your face in his neck. “Oh my god…”
 He swallowed roughly. “G-good…” He encouraged as he felt you slowly relax around his fingers.
 Your back arched, tiny little whimpers escaping you as Mingi made love to you with his hand. 
 And he was barely holding it together. He could feel the tip of his dick sticking to his boxers, precum smearing against the fabric and providing his cockhead with the tiniest bit of friction every time he moved his hips. 
 “Do you want one more? Or are you good with two?” His voice was hoarse. 
 “I d-on’t—“ You inhaled sharply, eyes closing as you felt the tiny spark of an orgasm in your core. “D-don’t think I can take a third…”
 Mingi nodded, and then he kissed your forehead. He wanted to speak, but he was putting all of his effort into keeping up a steady rhythm with his hand and not coming in his pants while your tensed thigh rubbed his dick. 
 And then it was silent for a few moments, except for the quiet squelching coming from between your legs every few seconds. 
 “I think I’m gonna cum.” You whispered, keeping your eyes closed. Focusing on that feeling, chasing it.
 Mingi swallowed, his breath catching. “Mm.” He hummed. He couldn’t think of anything else to say. 
 Your breath caught in your throat, the rest of it escaping in a choked whimper. “F-faster…” You breathed, looking up at him with pleading eyes. “Please.”
 He nodded, quickening his movements. You leaned up, catching his lips in a messy kiss as you got closer and closer.
 You were quieter than you thought you’d be. As your orgasm approached, you hardly made any noise at all, save for a few little gasps. 
 Your mouth dropped open and you pressed your forehead to your lover’s, letting out one single moan as your orgasm clenched down on his fingers. It ran through your body in waves, your muscles tensing and releasing rhythmically.
 “My god…” Mingi groaned, continuing his movements. “G-Good job, baby.”
 You squeaked, gently pushing his hand away as you neared overstimulation. His brows furrowed as he worried that he’d hurt you, but you immediately eased his anxiety by holding the back of his neck and pressing your lips to his again.
 “Felt so good…” You mumbled through kisses. “T-think I’m ready now…”
 His heart fluttered as he felt your hand between his legs, stroking his sensitive thighs. And then he looked at you in a way that a boy had never looked at you before, with big, dark, sparkling, pleading eyes. Like he needed you.
 So gently, like you were afraid he’d break, you slipped his dick out of his blue plaid boxers. He was so hard, so sticky and pulsing that you were sure he must have been in pain. “Thank you for making me feel good,” you whispered. “I know it must have been hard to wait…”
 He shook his head, closing his eyes. “Don’t thank me.” He let out a tiny noise as you stroked him once. “I loved it,” he breathed. “I loved doing that for you.”
 You smiled, kissing him again. “Take these off,” you pleaded, tugging at the waistband of his boxers. 
 Mingi pushed them down, kicking them off the bed at his feet. And then he was fully naked, hovering above you, also fully naked. It should have been scary, but you’d never felt more safe. You reached your arms behind him, stroking his back before sliding your hands down to teasingly squeeze his ass.
 He let out a choked noise and you laughed. “Sorry, I’ve always wanted to do that. You have a really nice ass.”
 He shook his head, laughing and kissing you again.
 “You’re really beautiful, Mingi.” You whispered, feeling another pang in your core as he groaned at the praise. 
 He reached a hand up, squeezing your breast as he kissed you and kissed you and kissed you. His heavy cock rested on your belly, clear precum sticking to your soft skin. 
 You reached for the condom on the nightstand, carefully ripping it open. His eyes didn’t leave your face as you gently rolled it onto him, your small hand wrapping around his girth. You slid his tip between your folds, then coated it in even more lube. You knew it might still hurt a little bit, but you felt much more prepared for it this time. 
 “The second it starts to hurt,” he whispered, his voice raspy. “You tell me.”
 You nodded. The two of you looked into each other’s eyes, and didn’t look away when his tip was aligned with your entrance. 
 But his eyes fluttered shut a bit when he slipped inside. He couldn’t help it.
 Your gasp made him open his eyes again. “Are you okay?”
 “Mmh–” You nodded, your voice high pitched and squeaky. He pushed forward, filling you, stretching you, making you his.
 “Mingi…” You whined, tears blurring your vision. “S-so big…”
 He kissed away the first tear that fell. “I know, I’m sorry,” he whispered, “Y-You’re doing so well.”
 He stilled for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his length. 
 “Is it…” You looked up at him with teary eyes. “Is it all the way in yet?”
 “Not yet.” His eyes were full of empathy and adoration. “Can you take any more? It’s okay if you can’t.”
 You whimpered. “S’big, Mingi.”
 “I know, baby, I know it’s big. Does it feel good? D-Does it hurt?”
 “It feels…” you trailed off. “It feels good but it hurts. I dunno if I can take any more.”
 “That’s okay,” he nodded, kissing your forehead. “You feel s-so good just like this.”
 “R-really?”
 “Yes,” he nodded. “You feel amazing. So… so fucking good.” He gritted his teeth as he spoke, shaking and sweating and forcing himself to not instinctively start fucking you hard and fast. “Can I move a little bit now?”
 “Yes,” you nodded. “Slow, please.”
 He pulled back so that only the very end of his tip was dipped into your opening, then shakily pushed forward in a single stroke, a little over three quarters of the way inside. 
 Tears stung his and your eyes. You felt better than anything he’d ever felt before, and the stretching sensation was starting to feel more pleasant than painful. 
 “I’m so…” he whimpered. “I’m so proud of you. You’re taking me so well.”
 “Mingi…” you whined in response, clawing at his back. “F-feels good.”
 “Yeah?” His eyes met yours. “It feels good?”
 “Mmm. I want… want you to fuck me. B-but slow, okay?”
 He visibly shivered, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up as his whole body became covered in goosebumps. 
 “T-tell me if it’s too much.”
 He attempted to set a pace then, slowly pushing and pulling his hips to halfway-fuck you as gently as he possibly could. Little moans slipped from your lips in time with his thrusts.
 “Ungh…” he whimpered, “God. F-feels so good. You’re so…” his eyebrows furrowed. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”
 “Mingi…” You rested your hand on his cheek. “Kiss.”
 He didn’t need to be told twice. His perfectly full lips gently kissed yours, softly massaging his tongue into your mouth while he slowly pumped his cock in and out of you. You were embarrassed that you couldn’t take his whole length yet, but you decided in that moment that this wouldn’t be the last time you did this with him, and you had all the time in the world to train for the entirety of him. 
 “Fuck…” he repeated, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m… I’m close. I’m sorry.”
 “You are?” Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked up at him, a moan slipping from your lips when his thrusts got a bit faster. 
 That was fast, you thought, but it was his first time, you supposed. You hoped he had good stamina, because you didn’t want this night to be anywhere close to over.
 “I c-can’t…” His hips were starting to shake a bit. “God, you feel so good. Squeezing me so tight.”
 “Ming…” you whispered, holding his face. “I wanna make you cum. Want you to cum for me.”
 “Oh, fuck…” he whimpered. “God, f-fuck-“
 His voice cracked as his eyes squeezed shut, his belly tensing and his lips dropping open in a silent moan. 
 And for a few seconds, time didn’t exist. There was only him and you and your bodies, like this was how you were always meant to be. You felt his big hand on your waist and his thick length stretching you out, but you also felt that same comforting atmosphere that always followed him around. You saw his face, the one that you knew so well, contorted in pleasure, and you heard his familiar voice making unfamiliar noises. And there was no one in the world you’d rather do this with. There was no one else you wanted to kiss. 
 “I love you.”
 He cried out as he came, curling in on himself and burying his face in your neck as he pulled out so just his tip was inside, pumping the condom full of his load. 
 He pulled out and rested his cock on your belly, huffing in your neck as he caught his breath. 
 You stroked his hair and swallowed, a lump forming in your throat. 
 You said it. You told him out loud and you’d never be able to take it back. 
 He just kept breathing down your neck, sweaty and shaking and wondering if he heard you right. 
 “I– I tried not to…” you breathed. “I tried so hard not to fall in love with you. You’re my best friend and you mean more to me than anyone else. But I just…” 
 You swallowed. There was really no going back now. 
 “I see you smiling and it hits me like a steamroller. Like my chest is knocked in and I can’t breathe. It feels… It feels like I’m suffocating and I don’t know how to stop it or make it go away.”  
 You felt his large hand hold your jaw, and his lips were on yours. 
 “Please… be my girlfriend,” he mumbled, breathless between kisses.
 You pulled back to look in his eyes. “What?”
 “I’ve been in love with you since we were kids. Please, please, please be my girlfriend.”
 Your face broke a little bit. “You have?”
 He nodded, and then his face broke, too. “Please say yes.” He held your face, looking deep into your eyes. “P-please, baby.”
 “Obviously yes,” you smiled, tears so close to spilling from your eyes. “Dummy.”
 “I love you,” he cried, kissing you again. “I love you so fucking much.”
 “Mingi,” you breathed, for no reason other than to say his name. 
 He kissed you and cried and you kissed him and cried, and he suddenly remembered what Yunho said. A nice way to show her I really care. 
 He kissed down your neck, across your chest, on your nipples, over your belly, until his shoulders were between your thighs.
 “W-what are you doing?” You asked, looking down at him a little too innocently.
 “I don’t really know,” he sighed, leaning forward and kissing your dewy pussy.
 “A-ah! Mingi!” Your legs instinctively closed around his head, and his big hands gently pried them open again. 
 “It’s okay…” he breathed, leaning forward again. “I’ve got you, baby. I’m not gonna hurt you.” He sweetly kissed your inner thigh before spreading you with his tongue.
 You whimpered and squirmed, grabbing a fistful of his soft dark hair. 
 “You sound so pretty,” he mumbled, kissing your clit, “And you taste so good…”
 His thick, plump lips worked with his velvet tongue to worship your pussy. And it was loud, the room filled with wet sounds and Mingi’s groans, along with the pathetic little moans you were letting out. 
 You looked down at him. His ears and cheeks were dark red, his eyes closed, the sharp tip of his nose shiny and wet. 
 “T-that feels really good, Ming—“ You were interrupted by your own gasp as his tongue slipped into your entrance. 
 “You’re mine now…” His deep voice sounded gravelly and thick. “You’re all fucking mine…”
 “Mingi…” You whimpered, lacing your fingers through his hair as his lips sweetly sucked your clit. How did you learn how to do this? You wanted to ask. 
 But he was moaning against you again before the thought could finish. “I’m gonna do this every fuckin’ day…” He blinked slowly, a string of drool connecting his lips and your pussy. He used his broad shoulders to push your legs open even wider, taking a deep breath before diving back in. 
 This time, he slipped two fingers inside of you while he worked his tongue. He closed his eyes, enjoying the taste of you while he passionately used his fingers and tongue. 
 “I’ve dreamed of this…” He paused to kiss your inner thighs. “Wanted this for so long… needed to know what you tasted like.”
 “Mingi…” You breathed, watching as his pink tongue drew circles around your clit. “I-I’m gonna cum again…”
 “Yes,” he groaned, never coming up for air. “Please, baby. Come in my mouth. I wanna taste all of it, please… wanna lick you clean.”
 Hearing those filthy words come from shy, sweet Mingi’s mouth made your stomach flutter. Your thighs clenched around his head as he gave you the most enthusiastic slurp of the night, the otherwise silent room filled with the sounds of his mouth devouring you. 
 You moaned so loud when you came that there was no doubt in your mind that your roommates heard. Mingi’s groans of enthusiasm were hardly muted, either. 
 Your thighs twitched, your body shook and your hips pressed against Mingi’s warm mouth as your orgasm consumed you, and you’d never felt more adored in your life.
 And then he didn’t stop. 
 “Mingi!” You cried out, trying to squirm away from his tongue. 
 But he looped his arm under one of your thighs, keeping you pried open. He used his other hand to spread your pussy, groaning as he licked it again. 
 “My girl…” He mumbled, and he seemed to be drunk off the taste of you, talking to himself. “Such a pretty fuckin’ pussy…” 
 Your eyes widened and you twitched as his tongue flicked inside of you again. You’d never seen this side of Mingi before; you’d never seen anything close to this side of Mingi before… and you really, really didn’t want it to stop. But—
 “I’m really sensitive, Ming…”
 That seemed to snap him out of his trance a bit. He looked up, moving his body up to sweetly kiss your lips again. “I’m sorry, baby. You j-just…” He sighed, catching his breath. “You taste so good.”
 You smiled. “I really like it when you call me baby.”
 He kissed your forehead then collapsed on the bed, laying next to you. You rolled onto your side, gently stroking his belly. 
 “Do you feel good?” He asked softly, his full cheeks blushing. “Was that enough?”
 “Enough?” You laughed in disbelief. “It was perfect.” You nodded. “Perfect.”
 “I’ll always make sure you’re satisfied, okay?” Your boyfriend looked you in the eye, his brow slightly furrowed. “A-and I’ll always make sure you’re taken care of. I’ll make sure your belly is always full and your shoes never get dirty.”
 A kiss on his chin, your face in his neck. “It’s just me, Mingi. Just you and me.”
 “Just us…” He mumbled, “Just like always.”
 You nodded and then sat in silence, touching and being touched. He stroked your thigh with his pinky, his eyes on your lips. 
 “In our own little world. Just the two of us.”
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snghnlvr · 6 months
Text
come on baby, don’t say that. / park sunghoon
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park sunghoon x fem reader
synopsis : you were curious whether or not your boyfriend was a possessive type so you tested it out.
includes: 1.4k words | fluff 4 sunghoon stans (aka me) , suggestive ending oohooolala | VAMP SUNGHOON | zb1 taerae appearance! | sunghoon is a menace but so is y/n… grrr possessive sunghoon … | both are simps but cuties patooties <33
extra: his part in the baby shark movie lives in my mind 24/7, i hear it everywhere anytime and it’s making me LOSE my damn sanity | the ONE fansign video of op asking questions to sunghoon about dating ggggrrrrrrr | literally last minute drabble i had , it was supposed to be posted for my birthday but studies got in the way .. ew studies…:// | en o’ clock reference⁉️
likes, comments and reposts are very appreciated <3
[below the cut]
curiosity perhaps did kill the cat.
you wore your favorite dress (also sunghoon’s favorite dress), styled your favorite into a bun with two strands on each side of your face, wore makeup to emphasize your face features and wore your favorite ruffled socks to put your loafers on.
you dolled yourself so much just for sunghoon’s attention, but on the bright side you felt pretty all dressed up.
you didn’t know what was purpose of doing this to yourself up when you didn’t have any plans.
one day, bored in your living room of both you and sunghoon’s apartment, you came across a video on your foryou page about possessive behavior in someone’s partner. it made you think about your boyfriend’s behavior; curiosity overwhelming your thoughts. you tried to imagine what your boyfriend will do if these scenarios were to happen.
so, you planned out a script - going to the movie theatre with your male friend, eating with your male friend, etc. ; literally spending a whole day with a male friend. heck, you can’t imagine doing those things with a male other than sunghoon. you don’t even have money in your wallet right now.
you’ve always known sunghoon as a quiet yet clingy type of boyfriend. he wasn’t openly expressive with his clinginess he would be subtle. even with that itself it made your heart pound like crazy. but you wanted to take a step further on how clingy he could get.
you stepped out of the room, already seeing sunghoon lying around in the living room couch with his eyes glued to the tv. his eyes immediately diverted to you, getting your loafers out in front of the door.
“where are you going?” he asked, his eyes scanning to your dressed up figure. you knew he was shamelessly checking you out. it made your heart flutter and somehow boosted up your ego. but you shouldn’t be phased by his attractive face.
he wanted to compliment you but he spoke without thinking. he wonders where your gorgeous self is going especially with that little dress you owned that he loves on your body. he wonders what was the special occasion.
you put on a soft smile while adjusting your shoes. you noticed that sunghoon stood up, eyes still checking you out and wonders how such a dress curves your body so well.
sunghoon had a small smirk with his hands on his pocket, abandoning the pillow on his lap. it flopped next to him.
you smelt sunghoon’s signature scent of musk and a blend of roses. he wore his favorite grey hoodie that was stained with his cologne. it was because you would borrow it.
now that sunghoon was in front of you, he continue to look at you as his arms slowly wrapped around your waist. that’s when you spoke. “mhm just going out.” you spoke sweetly to sunghoon but he kept you against the wall as the door was right next to the both of you but you didn’t comment. you knew he was trapping you.
“with who?” you noticed how sunghoon raised an eyebrow and how his expression slowly changed into a sad one that he wasn’t the person you’re going out with.
“just a friend of mine.” you looked up to sunghoon and noticed how your answer didn’t satisfied him so you pushed it further. “a male friend of mine.” you placed a hand on his chest, lightly playing with the strings of his hoodie.
“excuse me?” sunghoon spoke, slightly amused because usually you would hang out with your female friends.
your heart was starting to exhilarate when his voice octaves dropped. “hanbin? mark? jisung?” he started rambling of the guy friends that you had on the top of his head.
you were surprised at how many he remembered. is that a good thing?
sunghoon noticed your eyes widening so he took a deep breath and placed a soft smile that seemed a bit fake from your perspective.
“don’t go.”
what a contrast.
you almost snickered when you noticed sunghoon’s lips twitching, trying to lee his smile still but his hands wrapped around your waist, wrapped further until his hands reached his elbows. you were cold to him, close enough that your hands on his chest was the only barrier separating you two.
you found it somehow adorable to see him pouting.
you copied him. “taerae and i planned to go out and work work on our project for a while now.” you mentally apologized for using your friend’s name on the spot but you panicked to make something new on top of your head.
“where are you guys going?” you couldn’t handle sunghoon’s stare despite dating him so you looked down towards his buff chest. sometime about his stare sparked jealousy and agitated but he kept his mouth shut.
“we planned to watch a movie theatre together then a cafe and then the library.”
“alone?”
“yeah..”
you swore when you looked up at sunghoon, he was frozen, mouth apart as he was speechless. his eyes started to twitch. he then blinked at you multiple times to see if you were joking.
well, you were. but you kept a serious face on which didn’t show any sort of crackling.
“it sounds more like a date.” you can tell his whiny tone with his words, lips pouting that made you want to pinch his cheeks but you held back.
you shook his head. “why would i have a date with taerae when i can have with you?” you tilted your head, chuckling at his remark. “you’re literally my boyfriend.” you giggled lightly.
sunghoon sighed. “then don’t go. i’ll help you with the project instead, heck i’ll go to taerae instead of you.” his eyes were showing pettiness that you can’t help but lightly giggle. you saw sunghoon’s grumpy expression as he kept you close to him.
you poked at his birth mole under his eye. “boop.” were the words you let out but it didn’t phase sunghoon, keeping his grumpy expression on.
“we don’t even attend the same college hoon.” sunghoon’s eyes soften when you easily roll off his nickname out loud. he rather rolled his eyes instead.
“i have to go soon,” you looked at the clock behind sunghoon’s figure. it was 2pm. you were surprised your acting has gone this far and you’re continuing. you thought it was fun to make your boyfriend jealous.
“hoon, let go of me.” your hands flew to his triceps, surprised at how his muscle flexed against your touch. you lightly touched his muscle which broke sunghoon’s grumpy expression again.
you looked at him with an eyebrow raise, hoping he would be persuaded to let you go but he shook his head like a kid.
“come on baby, don’t say that.”
your heart beat started pounding like crazy. you were astonished at the unexpected sentence. you suddenly stared at sunghoon, how a strand of hair was covering his eye so you unconsciously moved it behind his ear, eyes watching your actions. sunghoon stared at your lips, stained with your red lipstick.
“taerae can wait another day.” sunghoon started rubbing your back with his hands, making you frozen and loosing your train of thoughts.
yeah forget taerae.
“it would be amazing to show him how beautiful my girlfriend is but i want you to myself right now baby.” sunghoon started to lean closer, his hand cupping your jaw and slowly easing your cheek with his soft fingers.
you closed your eyes and leaned against his relaxing touch. “you sound possessive park.” you were satisfied with your act, chuckling slightly at how amused you are.
sunghoon giggled as well, his deep giggle erupting in him as you felt him leaning more into you. “mhmm maybe?” he shrugged with a smile.
you opened your eyes and see sunghoon staring at you with love and affection. you can’t help but to plant a lot of kisses to his lips. you saw sunghoon staring at your lips and you predicted what was gonna happen next.
“mhmm yeah.” you smiled mischievously at sunghoon, removing his arms from your waist and turned around towards the door which showed your back to him.
maybe you’re not done yet.
but before you can open the door, sunghoon wrapped his arms once again which prevented you from not moving. your hands reached to the cold door handle but didn’t touch. his hands gripped your hips which indicated a new side of your boyfriend, park sunghoon.
sunghoon’s lips pecked your neck. “not on my watch.” his hot breath contrasted your cold skin, tickling you.
your heart paused at his actions.
you felt your boyfriend’s chest against your back, giving you instant warmth to your cold, clammy skin. his hug was very comforting and at this point you gave up with your little skit.
“possessive and back hugging me? how romantic.” you chuckled. you felt a sharp pain in the side of your neck, “ow!” you shouted in shock when it was sunghoon’s playful behavior of showing his love. you knew sunghoon had fangs and he unfortunately is abusing that characteristic of his by biting you. you rather found it his fangs adoring yet a bit hot that your boyfriend looked like an actual vampire.
you felt sunghoon’s tongue’s slowly soothing that area when he licked your pain away; like a cat. you smiled when he hugged you tighter as his face was dug into your neck as if you’ll disappear.
sunghoon abruptly stopped hugging you but rather grabbed your hand, dragging you across the hallway towards the bed that both of you live in, filled with smiles and flustered cheeks.
thank you for reading<3 hope you enjoyed!
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libraford · 5 months
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Here's what's going on in Ohio right now. Heavy stuff ahead.
First, I want to apologize for the misinformation in my original post. I am still learning about legislative processes. To correct: the changes to ODH and OMHAS in regards to gender therapy are not a bill, they are changes in regulations.
This is important because citizens CAN affect rule changes. There is an open commentary period where your submissions get counted and can affect how they write new regulations.
Disclaimer: I am not a lawyer, legal advocate, or medical professional. I'm just a dude who had to have it all explained to me.
The first one is Ohio Mental Health and Addiction Services. The rules proposed would make the already prohibitive process of gender transition even harder. In order to diagnose and treat gender dysphoria, a hospital needs to have a board certified psychologist per patient, a board certified endocrinologist familiar with the age group being diagnosed per patient, and a medical ethicist overseeing the hospital's plan for transition. 'Board certified' does not guarantee that the specialist is trans-friendly. It must include a detransition plan. Hospitals would have to report compliance annually. The professionals must have a contractual relationship with the patient, but do not need to offer in-person care. (In this instance, I'll get to that in the next rule change.)
This rule also deems it impermissible to prescribe gender transition care (this includes hormones, puberty blockers, or drugs) for anyone under the age of 21 without the approval of the professionals mentioned and 6 months of therapy.
There is an exception for intersex people, who may have their sex assigned to them without their consent.
The open comment period for this ends January 19 at 5pm.
Send an email to [email protected] with the subject title: "Comments on Gender Transition Care Rules."
The second one is Ohio Department of Health and it repeats a lot of the same as the first one. However, the focus is more on the regulation of doctors and paperwork. Anyone seeking transition will be put into a registry with their name redacted, but demographics like age, agab, specific diagnosis (difficult to achieve with the new regulations mentioned above), and any medications (not just related to gender transition, but any medications at all). Any cessation of care must be reported within 30 days.
This is a lot of paperwork and can overburden hospitals.
That 30 days cessation is important because if a person transfers doctors or if a clinic closes and the paperwork isn't filed, it may count as a 'detransition' when tallying demographics, even if that is not the case.
But what's curious is that the ODH regulations DO require in-person care. The rules are contradictory and vague.
The comment period for this ends Feb 5th.
Send a comment through the ODH website
Here are some important things that were mentioned at the meeting:
This is a good time to be personal with your statements. If this would disrupt your life in any way, please say so. "I fear that" "I believe this" "I worry that"- these are great ways to start your comment. An example one person gave is "I worry that this change in regulations would force me and my daughter to move out of state.'
With that being said, anything that you send to these sites will be public record, so be cautious about what you reveal about yourself in your comment.
If you are in need of help, please reach out to one of these resources:
Trans Ohio Emergency Fund Resource Page
Kaleidoscope Youth Center
If you are in need of legal advice on how to navigate all this, please call
888-LGBT-LAW
This is not everything. There is unfortunately more because Ohio decided to break a record this month with anti-trans motions. But today I'm focusing on things that we can take action on.
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ambrozjas · 4 months
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the gang x reader who loves makeup ꨄ︎
the outsiders x reader (separate)
✧˖*°࿐ notes 🧸ᰔᩚ
guys i swear i’m working on your requests i just wanted to use this as a filler to feed you guys while you wait, but trust me, i’m workin on it 💕 thank you for all the likes and reqs !! love you all xoxo
✧˖*°࿐ warnings ᰔᩚ
some curse words, makeup, reader is compared to “a girl in a magazine” in johnnys part, kissing?? i dunno 😭
. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄
DARRY’s thumb rubs along your thigh. he lay on his bed while you were sat at the desk besides him. you placed your vanity mirror on the wooden surface and had been working on your makeup for about half an hour.
darry had seen his mother put on makeup whenever she’d go out with his father, so he had a better idea of makeup than someone like steve or two bit. he liked whenever you asked him questions like ‘this or that’.
“which one? peach or mint?” you asked as you held up two lip glosses, the peach gloss in a soft pink tube and the mint in a sage green one.
darry seemed to think for a moment, humming in thought. “th’peach one.” he finally said, nodding his head in the direction of where you were holding the peach tube.
“thanks, dare.” you mumbled, your lips forming an ‘o’ shape, ready for application.
“why do you always put on makeup?” he asks, eyes fixated on you. a satisfying pop of your lips before you look over to him and shrug.
“dunno, makes me feel pretty.”
“you’re always pretty, darlin’.” darry continues, moving his hand from your thigh to your hand, interlocking both your fingers and squeezing.
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
“how d’ya get that thing so close to your eye?” SODAPOP asks. you’ve been doing your makeup for about ten minutes, soda watching you like a hawk.
“i just raise my eyelid and put the curler to my lashes, piece’a cake.” you shrug, mouth open as you apply some mascara. “really?” he asked, taking a glance at your drawer full of makeup products, an assortment of pretty colored tubes, he would guess were either for your lips or eyes.
“yeah, why? you want some?” you laughed, expecting a ‘no’ in return but got only silence. you looked back at him. soda had just shrugged exaggeratedly.
one thing let to another and you ended up perched on sodapop’s lap, his eyes closed as you decorated his lids with blue eyeshadow.
“soda—! don’t crinkle your eyes!” you exclaimed, your boyfriend simply chuckled and gently grasped your wrist. “‘s not my fault it tickles, babe.”
soda opens his eyes to look at you, pulling your palm to his lips for a soft kiss.
“you know, you just ruined the eyeshadow, right? your eyes are hooded so the shadow will get—“
“shh, i’m tryna be romantic ‘ere.”
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
“oh, PONYBOY!” you squealed, dragging out the ‘y’ in his name and running down the hallway already carrying your makeup bag.
you poke your head in through the doorway to find pony laying on his bed, nose buried in another one of his books. he glanced at you, already suspicious of the fact that the rest of your body isn’t visible.
“huh?” he questioned, his eyes flickering between the words of the book. “you wanna be the best boyfriend ever and do me a favor, pony?” you grinned as you dragged out the syllables in his name.
“what’re you doin’?” he inquired. you started to step slowly into view, your bag held behind your back. “i just need’a see somethin’ real quick.” he sat up a bit as you got closer to him and placed the book on the desk next to his bed, careful to mark the page he was on with a bookmark.
you finally bring your hands around to your front, unveiling the small makeup bag filled to the brim with products.
“oh, no.”
“oh, yes.”
“no! you ain’t touchin’ my face!”
and before he knows it, ponyboy has a face full of makeup on and you’re finishing it off with some sparkly highlighter on his nose.
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
you had a date with JOHNNY at the drive-in, planning to see one of elvis’ new movies.
you had done your makeup, using the multitude of products you had in your room, and you looked snatched. your hair was cute, whether greased up or not, it never failed to look effortlessly gorgeous, johnny always thought so.
he was already waiting at the drive-in, accompanied by dallas who unfortunately was “chaperoning” him for the night, probably just trying to keep a lookout for drunk broads.
when you had arrived though, boy, was johnny astonished. his eyes widened at just the sight of you, it was like you were a princess walking up to him in slow motion.
once you had caught up to him and dally, johnny couldn’t help but mutter, “y’look like one of those ladies from the magazines..”, he gawked at just the utter sight of you.
“thank you?” you giggled and gave a quick peck to his lips. “i’ll get us a coke!” you jogged over to the concessions area with a bunched up wad of money in your hand. johnny watched you walk away, mouth still parted a bit in shock.
dallas, being the shithead he is, rudely tapped johnny’s cheek, making him close his mouth. “you’ll catch flies, johnny.” he said, exhaling the smoke from his cigarette.
once you two had actually sat down, dally chatting up some girl a few feet away, johnny turns to you. “s’that a new lipgloss?”
“yeah, you like it?” you asked, blowing him an exaggerated air kiss after.
“tastes sweet.”
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
“c’mon, doll, it’s been like twenty minutes.”
“hold on, DALLY, i have to finish this wing!” you affirmed, your words altered with the way you opened your mouth so your skin would stretch, giving you the perfect opportunity with eyeliner and mascara. one struggle almost everybody goes through, is getting the other eyeliner wing to match the other.
“you’ve been at this for a while, just draw a line ‘n call it a night.” dallas insisted, he didn’t much like waiting, and he never understood why people took so much time just to do their makeup.
“no, you don’t understand. it has to be perfect.” you said, enunciating the ‘p’. you look at dallas in the reflection of the mirror and see him sigh in defeat and hollow his cheeks with another inhale of a cancer stick.
“you better not be smokin’ that thing in here, stinkin’ up my whole room.” you wrinkled your nose, the smell of cigarettes never leaves your room as long as dallas comes over.
“you do it too.”
“i smoke outside, not where it’ll penetrate a whole room full of cute things.” you rebutted.
“whatever you say, doll.”
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
“do i look like a pretty princess?” TWO-BIT asked as you applied blush on his cheeks. you and his kid sister giggled at the sight. two’s eyes covered with all sorts of bright pinks and yellows and blues, colors that his little sister suggested.
“yes keith, you look like a pretty princess.” you said, watching two’s nose scrunch at the brush tickling his cheeks.
“what next?” you asked to his sister, turning to her as she held a finger to her chin in thought. then, it was like a light bulb went off inside her head. she grinned at you, a catlike smile that you returned, one that made two-bit worried about what would come next.
“lipstick.” was all she said, and immediately she handed you a bright red lipstick. you let out a soft laugh as you looked at two-bit’s expression, cocking an eyebrow as usual.
“you ain’t doin’ what i think you’re doin’, right?” he asks, then you wiggle the tube of lipstick at him, getting it closer as he shifts away. he placed his hands up in defense, “baby—! c’mon, you wouldn’t do that to your wonderful lovely boyfriend, would you?”
as he tries to scurry off, you hook your leg around his waist and keep him in place while his little sister laughs hysterically in the background. you grip his cheeks so his lips could purse, giving you the perfect access to apply his lipstick.
he ends up looking like a scrapped lisa frank design and that lipstick ends up in kiss marks littering your face, accompanied by ‘eww’s’ in the back provided by two’s sister.
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
“shit! it burns!” STEVE yells, his lips a cherry red with irritation.
“why’d you put it on your lips?” you threw your arms up, representing a ‘what the hell?’.
“thought it was your lipstick thingies!”
“why would you put it on your lips in the first place, steve?” you laughed and rushed over to get a paper towel and a few ice cube. “i thought it’d taste good.” he muttered, his lips a comical plump as he glared at the tube, feeling silly how he didn’t read the white letters on it saying ‘duck plump’.
when you came back, you sat down next to steve, gently wiping off the gloss before he snatched the napkin and wiped it off aggressively himself, desperate to get it off.
you both looked at each other before he looked down at the ice cube. “wha’s ‘at supposed to do?” he asked. you stammered, “i don’t know you were in hysterics! ‘pleasee! oh please get it off! it burns—!’” you cut yourself off with a laugh, laying back on the bed.
“yeah, yeah. whatever..” he grumbles, throwing another glare at the lip plumping gloss that lay abandoned on your desk.
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ thank you all so much for all the love n requests, i swear i’m writing them just give me some time 🫶
kiss kiss ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱
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feelinmatcha · 4 months
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❛ 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐎𝐊𝐀𝐘, 𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 ❜
description: your boyfriend tends to remind you that you're so easy to love. characters: alhaitham + scaramouche (wanderer) a/n: had this idea brewing in my drafts and decided to finish it off ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ
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"no, i'm not buying a book from a genre i don't even like."
that's okay, alhaitham will.
actually, the idea of giving you your own bookshelf would already be on his mind as soon as you've successfully moved in with him and kaveh. the only catch? kaveh insists that he builds it himself as a gift.
alhaitham subtly asks you of your favorite wood one evening in the kitchen over a heavy discussion of zaytun peaches that kaveh was supposed to buy earlier that morning. trust me, he already knows which wood you'd absolutely adore, but he took the precaution of asking once again just in case as he'd be quite perturbed that his plan didn't work out in the end like he intended. he wanted it to cater to you, not anyone else.
the topic drifted from zaytun peaches to the week's trending romance novel that you had finished reading a few days ago.
"haitham, you should put this on your to-be-read list!"
"really? what's the appeal, love?"
listen guys and girls, he wants to know why you'd recommend it to him!!!
give him every little detail on why!! you want him!!! out of all people!! to read it!!!
he really just wants to hear you talk about what you find interesting.
contrary to popular belief, he doesn't hate the romance genre. he just finds it... meaningless to read? the last time he gave it a try, there was no actual knowledge in it. just fictional love between fictional characters.
but of course, he would consider it if you were to suggest something. especially if the book has you running laps around the bedroom.
so he sets out on to the nearest bookstore when he's on his 'break' and purchases the same copy you had.
you're DISCOMBOBULATED. BAFFLED.
that night you two would be in bed, settling down for the night, and he whips it out-- his fingers spreads the pages near the ending of the book and he begins reading.
"babe... why are you reading my book?"
"no, it's my book. i bought my own so you wouldn't complain about me creasing the spine."
"but why'd you buy one?"
he side-eyes you, "you suggested the book."
"but i didn't think you'd actually... you didn't have to. i know you aren't fond of--"
"i'm fond of you, and that's enough."
"no, i don't want you starting a commotion here in public."
that's okay, scaramouche will.
he loves you with his entire heart, body, and soul.
if someone stares at you weirdly? they're already being glared down by him. if a salesperson says anything about your attire, your hair (or the absense of it), or your skin-- he's throwing himself across the stall and grabbing their shirt to bring them closer to you.
he makes them apologize.
a woman, a man, an elder, a kid-- doesn't matter. as long as they got a mouth that can yap, he's gonna shut it.
your friends would let what people say to you slide, but he won't.
it's bad enough that he feels as if he doesn't deserve you so when you start thinking of yourself as someone whose less than even the dirt and cement beneath your feet, he's angry at everyone else for letting it get this far.
"what are you talking about? they insulted you and you stood there and took it!"
you don't want to feel like a burden, like someone whose always in need of being protected.
"i'm not your friend, i'm your partner," he grits. "it's what i'm supposed to do, you idiot."
really, it's just the ideal of protecting you that's instilled within his puppet body.
poor baby does not know an ounce of romance yet he said that line so effortlessly and in a way that had you choking on your next words.
as you cling to his bicep on the dirt road, you thank him. profusely. he finds it a bit annoying.
"you need to get better friends." is all he says.
he knew what loyalty was. he practically would get on his knees for it, too. he constantly looked for that in a partner, and you had answered.
he knew loyalty was needed in friendships, as well as relationships. especially relationships.
so it unsettled him when he heard that your so-called friends brushed off the verbal assaults directed to you and had the audacity to then say: "just smile and don't let it get to you"
it wouldn't be the first he's done this and it certainly won't be the last, and that's okay.
he wants to enjoy the smiles, laughs, and jokes you end up sharing with him all in an attempt to calm him down but he's already been calm. he's always found himself significantly calm around you, whether he admits it or not.
"come on, let's go home."
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© 2024 feelinmatcha
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astraystayyh · 9 months
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Say yes to me
after your seven minutes in heaven, hyunjin wants to plan out how he'll finally confess to you. except you come knocking on the door of his rented cabin unannounced. at 10:53 pm. the perfect time for love, he comes to learn.
pt. 2 of say yes to heaven. highly recommend reading it first (it's short i promise and it sets the mood ajsjd)
a.n: and if i told y'all i wrote this in one go... when i say hyune possesses me i MEAN it... these two pics sit at the same table for me, and three people asked for a second part and i can't say no to you guys!! ENJOY, feedback is highly appreciated as always <33
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There are a lot of things that Hyunjin wishes he could say to you.
How he loves you is first.
Hyunjin never planned on keeping secrets from you. Ones he carefully tucked away at the corner of his mouth, ready to spill each time your gaze met his.
He still remembers when it all started vividly- how the friendship blossomed into something more for him, the way petals shyly unfurl on the first days of spring.
You were sitting next to him on the bench of your favorite park, ice cream in your hands. Hyunjin intently watched as you rambled about your latest essay, and the world seemed to fall into a tranquil silence, save for the sound of your voice.
Hyunjin suddenly found himself enthralled by the way the sunlight gently grazed your cheeks, painting them with the softest golden hue. One he tried to replicate many times in his paintings, but to no avail, as they could never live up to you.
How the light breeze danced upon your hair, swaying it gently from left to right. How your lips moved with each word, pulling him into an unyielding trance. Those very lips that graced his skin with kisses, months later, scorching themselves into his memory.
Sometimes it still felt surreal, almost too good to be true, that you left traces of yourself on him. That he had you graze his jaw and collarbones, tentatively, as if you were afraid to dive in fully. "I'd catch you", he wanted to say, "even if it meant I'd drown in the process."
He wasn't ashamed to admit that he took a picture of the lipstick stains you left on him. He didn't even realize they were there at first, that is until he went to Changbin's bathroom. There, under the dim lighting, he found that the blush creeping up his neck matched the shade of your lipstick. His body seamlessly entwined itself with everything that made you.
He felt like a shaky tree branch at your hands- dainty leaves falling at your feet, each one scribbled with love notes for you. And he could no longer contain this feeling within him. He was tired of this five month old secret. He wanted to be an open book, one you could read or toss around, as long as you'd touch it.
But he needed to gather his thoughts and plan how he'd say it. How he'd free this scary confession from the confines of his heart. He told you that you'd talk about it later, and it's already been twelve days since he's last seen you. He had to do it soon.
So he went to his cabin, the one he rents on the weekends when he needs to get away from the world. It's small, nestled away in a remote part of the town, with a golden chandelier dangling in its living room- it's where Hyunjin feels most like himself.
Hyunjin doesn't hear your car pulling up into the driveway. Or your hurried steps to the door. But he hears your urgent knocks, and he's confused as he pushes the doorknob down. Then he's worried when he notices that it's you, with puffy eyes and a slightly runny nose.
For a moment, he stood there, too stunned to articulate a proper question. You don't give him the time to properly organize his thoughts, anyways, as you take timid steps towards him, before wrapping your arms around his waist. Your cheek rests against his chest, right above his heart, and you're crying. Hyunjin can tell from the slight tremors coursing through your body; the very one he's hugging right now, tightly, securely, until you're pressed to him, like two pages of the same book.
His large hands are rubbing soothing circles on your back, and a myriad of questions swirls in his mind. But they can wait, until you stop crying- the one sight that can bleed his heart dry.
"You- you said we'd talk later," you say through hiccups, as Hyunjin's hand moves to the back of your head, gently smoothing down your hair.
"I did," he hums, slightly rocking you from left to right.
"Then why didn't you? You just... stayed silent. For two weeks."
"Twelve days."
"Hyune," you whine and he giggles slightly, pressing a soft kiss onto your temple.
"I'm sorry. I didn't know you were waiting for me."
"Of course, I was," you lean back, the sides of his black shirt scrunched up in your hands. "I was tipsy but I... I remember."
"What do you remember?" he asks, as his thumb gently brushes away your trailing tears. He knows what happened that night, he replayed those seven minutes in his head so much that he could recite them by heart. Every breath you took, every shaky exhale you let out. He remembers it all too well.
"What you said to me."
His eyes soften at the quiver in your tone. "Why are you crying then, hm?"
"Because you didn't talk to me and I thought you didn't mean it. And I- I can't handle anyone else lying to me. Especially you."
Hyunjin shakes his head, as the strings of his heart dance to the erratic rhythm of his pulse.
"I could never lie to you. Not when it comes to this," he says with the utmost sincerity he can muster. He pauses, a gentle smile etched on his lips. "I have tea."
"Tea sounds good," you respond quietly.
"Come in, then."
He let goes of you, but you remain close, your shadows merging together on the wooden floor. Hyunjin smiles softly at the sight- he too wishes he could become one with you.
His hands are shaking slightly as he brings the water to a boil. You're wandering around, admiring the cozy interior, and the questions in Hyunjin's head can't seem to stop. What does this mean? he wants to ask. Do you want me like I want you? But he bites his tongue. Not until you've fully calmed down.
One minute.
"Here," he says, handing you a steaming cup of Jasmine tea. He leans his head against the wooden wall, as the steam fogs up his glasses.
"Thank you," you smile, settling into the seat opposite of him. "I like your ponytail."
"Oh," his hands reach up instinctively to his hair, tugging slightly at the ends of it. "It kept getting in my eyes so I tied it up."
"It suits you," you smile softly, and Hyunjin finds that the galaxy's stars are all shimmering in your eyes. He imagines the milky way weeping for the loss of its twinkling lights; but they look prettier in you, he thinks.
"How did you know I was here?" he asks, bringing the sweet drink to his mouth.
"Changbin told me," you reply.
Hyunjin nods, his eyes holding yours over the rim of his cup. He's nervous, a shaky mess from within, and he's unfolding right in front of you.
Two minutes.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"Do you believe in love at first sight?"
His question seems to take you off guard. Your eyes slightly widen, before softening around the edges.
"It seems too unrealistic. But I'd like to think it exists. And you?"
"Despite being a hopeless romantic..." Your chuckle interrupts his words, and he finds that the sound of your laugh is much warmer than the drink in his hand. "I never believed in it. Because love is much deeper than a superficial level. It could be infatuation or a crush. But not love," he pauses, idly circling the rim of his cup with his finger. "But then I realized I was wrong."
His eyes captivate yours as he leans back, his sole attention on you. "They don't call it love at the first look, but rather love at first sight... You know, the first time you truly see someone. And I saw you."
Your breath hitches in your throat.
Three minutes.
"I saw you. I see you. how kind, gentle, and full of life you are. How you turn the most mundane sceneries into extraordinary ones, because your eyes are filled with colors we cannot see. But I saw them through you."
He smiles softly, his hand reaching out to the middle of the table, right where yours rested. His thumb gently grazes your palm, as he starts to speak again.
"It hurt me to see you with someone else. But he made you smile, at least at first. And I love your smile, so I was happy for you despite it. Because you deserve joy in your life, even if I'm not the one behind it. But then he hurt you," he pauses, his eyes tightly shut as if it physically pained him to utter these words. "And it hurts me to see you in pain. Because you deserve a love as gentle as you."
Four minutes.
"Hyune..." you trail off, and he shakes his head, a reassuring smile on his face.
"You don't have to say anything. You're confused and still hurt but I just needed you to know that."
"Know what?" you ask breathlessly, your hand now on top of his. You're hanging desperately onto his every word, you needed to hear it.
"That I love you."
Your fingers intertwine with his, and Hyunjin believes he has never truly breathed before this moment.
"I want to love you too, I do," you're quick to say. "You make me feel safe like I could hand you my heart and you wouldn't hurt it. But you also make me feel alive and I regret not seeing you first. Not when my love was still whole and not bruised."
"So you could love me?" he asks, a beaming smile brightening his face.
"I came crying to you because I thought you left me, and I couldn't bear it. You have your answer," you giggle sheepishly.
Five minutes.
"And you want to love me?"
"I do. I want to see you and notice a new detail about you every day. But I'm so scared, Hyunjin."
"It's okay to be scared. I don't want to rush you. I can wait."
"What if you get bored? Or if someone else catches your eye. I can't ask that of you."
Hyunjin squeezes your hand and the thoughts in your head go silent.
"I've waited for months for you. If it's you I get at the end then I can wait for an eternity."
"So you'll do it?" you smile incredulously. "You'll wait by my side?"
"Mm. I will."
Six minutes.
You're both quiet for a while, and he's too lost in you to count down the seconds. But then you clear your throat.
"Can we start waiting tomorrow?" you suddenly ask, walking up to him.
"What do you mean?" Hyunjin questions, the butterflies in him fluttering so intensely he's close to flying away.
"We're both here now," you whisper, as you sit beside him, his thigh brushing against yours. He licks his lips nervously.
"Can I try something?" you ask again, but this time you aren't drunk. You are less heartbroken and more sure of your feelings for him. You want this.
"I'm yours."
Your fingers reach up to cup his face, thumb grazing his cheeks gently. His hands hold your waist, beckoning you closer.
"I see you," you whisper, placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth. "I'm sorry it took me so long to see you."
"Love at first sight," he responds breathlessly as your lips graze his, and his heart threatens to burst out of his chest- they'll find your name carved in his veins.
"I believe in it now, Hyune," you grin, before crashing your lips onto his.
Seven minutes.
There are a lot of things Hyunjin wished he could say to you. Sappy things, like how he believes you invented colors, that it drips down from your fingertips grazing his skin- explaining the red and yellow dots dancing before his closed eyes.
How everything seems to be heightened with you- the taste of the Jasmine tea imprinted on your lips, or the breaths escaping his body, eager to be released and to finally mingle with yours.
Or that he wishes that you were wearing your red lipstick so that your mark on him would last longer. A physical token of what you do to his heart.
But there was also much simpler words he wanted to say, ones that he managed to whisper in between tender kisses- "thank you for seeing me."
One year.
Your arms encircle Hyunjin's broad back, as you rest your cheek on his shoulder blade. "You know it's criminal for you to look this good in a simple white tee," you sigh wistfully, Hyunjin's perfume enveloping you both in an intimate cocoon.
"Good thing I'm yours then," he chuckles and you beam in reply, although he can't see you. Hyunjin is yours- he waited just like he promised he would. And now you're back in his cabin, where it all began, and he's making you Jasmine tea.
"And I am yours," you plant a kiss on his back and he turns around, a wide smile on his face.
There is still a sense of relief you find sometimes in Hyunjin's features when you tell him that you love him. As if he can't still quite believe it, even after a year of dating. It is the look traced on his face right now- a slight awe as he looks down at you.
"You said yes to me," he says so faintly, as if speaking to no one but himself, and you nod, placing a gentle kiss on his wrist.
"I'll always say yes to you."
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igotanidea · 13 days
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The little bean: Anthony Bridgerton x pregnant!wife!reader
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A/N: So..... After my "Too much" series I've been asked to do something with Antony and pregnancy trope. And since 1) I got baby fever and 2) Bridgertons are back, there is no better time than now.
***
“Y/N, my love, what are you doing?”
“I’m holding a book…?”
Ever since Y/N found out she was pregnant with the heir (which she would rather address as her precious little baby, instead of giving him titles before he or she was even born) Anthony entered right into an overprotective mood. If anything he would just keep her home, away from any prying eyes, that – in his opinion – might somehow take a look inside, at his baby and perhaps, see the little one before it came into the view of a proud viscount father.
Y/N could barely walk around the Bridgerton household, let alone the garden, without her husband chasing after her with a very concerned look, ready to carry her wherever she wished, just so that her feet wouldn’t touch the ground.
There were so many dangers on the way after all.
Wild animals. (i.e. bees, dogs and strays cats)
Speeding carriages.
Stones on which she might trip and fall.
Too much sun.
Too little sun.
And worst of all-
Members of the ton.
It was merely the first trimester and viscountess was torn between calming Anthony down (tactfully avoiding the information that the next months will be much more challenging) or just rushing away to her mother-in-law (yet, again) to seek aid in keeping him in check.
And just when she thought the oldest Bridgerton could not get any more obsessive, he took the lecture she was reading out of her hands.
“My dear, you cannot carry such weights. It’s straining and I am to protect you from threats.”
“It’s a book…” she frowned a little, but not without a hint of amusement in her voice
“It’s heavy.”  
“It's a 200 page novel…”
“It’s heavy.” Anthony’s voice was gentle, but firm. Both demanding and pleading.
“Anthony…”
“Y/N.”
“I can hold my own book.”
“We got servants for that.  In fact – let me call upon your maid and –“ he started walking towards the door in sheer purpose to liberate his dearest wife from the unnecessary burden.
Nonetheless his dearest wife had quite a different plan, reaching to grab his hand and stopping him in his tracks.
“My love. Please, come. Let us sit.” She guided him to the ottoman, still keeping the soft touch that was grounding to him.
Much to her surprise Anthony rushed to the furniture first, fixing pillows and blankets so Y/N could sit comfortably. And apparently that word, in his language, meant sitting half a meter in the air, covered from head to toe, regardless of the perfect spring weather outside.
“Here. Perfect.” He flashed a perfect smile, content with the spot he made for her.
“Anthony…”
“Yes, my love?” as he spun around meeting with her desperate look, the smile slowly disappeared from his face. “Y/N? Are you not feeling well?” Anthony grabbed both her hands in his, searching her face for any symptoms of malaise, dizziness, nausea. “Do you need some water? Or-“
“No, no, Anthony, please just listen to me for a moment-“
“Perhaps I should call upon Daphne, she already had a child of her own and she would be of help. Or maybe my mother could-“
“Anthony!” she laughed whole-heartedly at his  feverishness “I am not going to give birth in the fourth month of pregnancy! Please just calm down.”
“Just say a word and I’ll call for a medic immediately. Do not fret my dearest, I will take the best care of you. I swear on my life that-“
At that moment Y/N used the most effective way to stop his blubbering in the form of putting his hand on her slightly rounded belly in which their baby was healthily growing.
“Shh.” She whispered, putting her own palm on top of Anthony's, calming him down, letting him caress the stomach in hope to make him calm down. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay. I don’t need medic. Nor your mother. And certainly not your younger sister. I am feeling good and the only thing that concerns me is my husband's distress over nothing.”
“Nothing? You are carrying our baby!”
“And our baby needs his father to stop fretting.”
“But-“
“Here!” her eyes grew wide as she guided his hand to another place “did you feel it?”
“Was it--?” Anthony’s face expression mirrored the one of his wife.
“It kicked…” she whispered as their gazes met and for a second that extended into eternity, they just kept looking into each other’s eyes expressing so many feelings.
And then, almost as if in a dream, Anthony fell to his knees in front of Y/N, pressing his head into her belly.
“Our baby.” He whispered, kissing her body through the material of the dress. “our little baby.” He wrapped arms around her midsection with his ear pressed to the home of the child, almost hoping to hear him or her inside.
“Our baby…” she repeated with tears in her eyes. Despite knowing and obviously – feeling the imminent arrival of the new family member it was the first time she actually felt and knew. And it was beautiful. Her little bean was really there. Growing and waiting for the right moment to appear in the world, landing right into the waiting, safe arms of loving mother and father.      
“Do you think it can hear us?” Anthony pressed one ear to her stomach, his entire face lighting up at the possibility.
“Depends.” She chuckled
“On what?” his eyes travelled up to meet hers.
“If I say yes, will that mean you start talking to my insides?”
Anthony smirked.
“I will do that, even if you say no.”
“Then why the question?”
“Testing your knowledge.”
“I am not a doctor, Anthony. My expertise in the area might be a little limited.”
“Very well. Then give me an answer as a mother, not a medic.”
“Yes. Yes, I think it can hear us.” She cupped Anthony’s cheek in the affectionate gesture. There was something utterly heartening in seeing him like this. Holding her (and/or the baby) like she was the most precious thing in the world, needing the assurance that his child was already reaching to him.
That it could hear him, even if it wasn’t even born yet. Hoping for the love of the Lord that it was truly happening. That in a few months, that were going to pass by with extraordinary speed, the little one, a girl or a boy, would take a corporal form. That the viscount would not only be a noble and a husband but would also take on the new role – a father. A protector. Caregiver. A teacher, guardian and a guide. That somehow – his life would be complete. He’ll have his own little family. Something that was nearly impossible to him a few years prior.
And now-
“Anthony…” Y/N whispered, wiping a single tear from his eyes. “Sweetheart, what is wrong?”
“Nothing. Nothing is wrong, love. It’s all perfect.”
“Then why are you-?”
“I’m not.” He cleared his throat and gathered himself.
“Of course not.” She laughed softly brushing his hair. “But if you’d want to actually talk to the baby, that would stay in this little circle.”
Anthony smiled lovingly, grateful for having his miracle of a woman in his life. She understood him so perfectly well.
“We’re waiting for you, little one.” He whispered against her attire, with a little muffled voice, be it from emotions or closeness of his lips on her body. “You are already loved by two people, with more to come.”
‘You can say it Anthony…” Y/N whispered, knowing what he was holding back.
“I love you my little one.” The viscount whispered with the softest voice, caressing the place where the kick was previously felt.
And they stood like that for a while longer, enjoying that moment of joy and thinking about the future that looked quite bright. 
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withleeknow · 4 months
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happy place.
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pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff; unedited, just me being self-indulgent and word vomitting again word count: 0.8k listen to 🎧: you are in love - taylor swift
as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
navigation / masterlist / ko-fi
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one of your favorite things that minho does is when he drops everything just to hug you. unprompted, out of nowhere.
you like to call these sporadic moments your silent hug time.
it started not too long ago, maybe a few months back, on a random sunday afternoon while you were all snuggled up with soonie on the couch and lazily flipping through the pages of the book you were reading. it had been gloomy and miserable all day; you and minho were supposed to drive to the beach and soak up the last rays of summer sun before fall announced its arrival.
the weather had other plans though. no more beach day, that was for sure.
your boyfriend quietly walked into the room, not saying a word as he grabbed the novel in your hands, slid your bookmark into place and unceremoniously dropped the book onto the carpeted floor. soonie was promptly handled - much more gently - and placed somewhere next to the couch, which earned minho a controlled hiss before the cat just wandered elsewhere in the house seeing that your cuddle session was so rudely interrupted.
you’d learned not to question why minho did the things he did or how that peculiar brain of his worked, so you just quietly watched him with a puzzled look on your face, curious to see what he would do next.
you didn’t know what you expected, but to have him quite literally flop onto your body, pinning you underneath him as he rested his head on your chest, was definitely not something you had in mind.
“you good?” you asked, threading your fingers through his hair to play with the soft floofy mess, holding him close to your heart.
minho just hummed in response as he hugged you tightly. he didn’t sound upset or anything; there was nothing for you to worry about.
he then stayed in the same position for roughly fifteen minutes before pushing himself off of you. “recharged. thanks,” he announced curtly, pressing an appreciative kiss to your lips and leaving the room without an explanation.
that’s kind of how it became a thing. minho would randomly surprise you with silent hug time every now and then, always without warning and reasoning. you suppose that he does it whenever he wants a little boost of energy and affection, whenever he feels down and needs a little pick-me-up, or simply whenever he just wants to be close to you for a while before returning to his day. to “recharge,” as he would call it. it doesn’t even matter what you're doing when he wants it; any time can be silent hug time.
you’re making dinner? not anymore. minho already has the stove turned off before holding you hostage between his body and the kitchen counter, his arms around you keeping you flush against him.
you just got back from grocery shopping and the ice cream needs to be put in the freezer? nope, minho doesn’t give a shit about that. your two tote bags full of produce and snacks can stay on the floor for all he cares. all that matters to him the second you walked through the front door is bombarding you with a bear hug and flooding his senses with the scent of your shampoo and the perfume he loves most on you.
you’re both running late to changbin’s housewarming party? too bad. what minho wants, minho gets and minho gets right now. you can only sigh in defeat as his hands slide around your waist to pull you to him, his face finding refuge in the crook of your neck where he gives you a quick kiss there. you wrap your arms around his neck, turning occasionally to press your lips against his temple. changbin will definitely be fussy about your tardiness, but if you’re being totally honest, he’s lucky that you’re able to drag minho there at all.
in all fairness, it’s cute. it’s wonderfully endearing and such a minho thing to do. in true minho fashion, he would rather manhandle you and let your ice cream melt than tell you that he wants a hug, because god knows that minho would never willingly admit it on his own.
nevertheless, even if you you might not be able to hear him ask a simple question like “can i get a hug?” in this lifetime, you still have the privilege of being the one he goes to when he needs peace and comfort, and his actions speak more than his words ever could.
minho thinks of you first because he associates you with nothing but goodness. because you’re his happy place. you’re the calm amidst every storm, the safe harbor he can always return to when he needs shelter. every pretty color he sees and every beautiful adjective in his vocabulary? that’s all you.
to minho, you aren’t even synonymous with love. you are love.
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permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts  @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken @extrhotjne @caitxx1 @palindrome969 @todorokiskitten @azuna-sz @meanergreener @nxzz1skz @jazziwritesthings @poutypoutybin (italicized = can’t tag)
all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 09.02.2024]
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pomegranateandblood · 4 months
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The Jacket (part 1/2)
Summary: Alive!reader gets assigned a new locker, finds Wally‘s letterman jacket and decides to keep it
Includes: Wally Clark x reader, smut
A/N: I just love Wally & Rhonda‘s friendship
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"This is not what I meant when I asked for a new locker."  You said, scrunching your nose in disgust.
„Yeah, it's like they haven't cleaned it in decades" Your friend dusted her hands off.
A comical cloud of dust came out of the locker, when you finally managed to open the jammed metal door. Coughing, you stepped back.
Meanwhile, unbeknown to you, two students were watching. Dead Students to be exact.
„Hey, isn't that your locker, hot stuff?" Rhonda pointed her lollipop towards the situation.
The footballer turned and nearly tripped, running over to you.
„Stop panicking, it's not like you could do anything about it anyway." The brunette rolled her eyes and started following him.
„They promised my my mum they wouldn't give my locker away and now I see some-„ Wally tried to find the right words, holding onto Rhondas arm.
She raised a brow at him „Hot cheerleaders taking over your locker ?"
„I'm serious! All the stuff I have on me is in there, what if they throw it away?" He said, watching you hold up his letterman jacket.
„You're right, they really havent cleaned this in ages." You looked at your friend.
She reached inside, pulling out a blue and white jacket. You took it from her and held it up. „It's cute don't you think? Kinda vintage."
„Oh my god. look." She pointed at the stitching at the right top. ‚Wally' it read in white italic letters. You looked at her. „You think it belonged to the stadium guy?"
„Possible? I mean there's other stuff in there. Maybe he wants it back." Your friend crossed her arms. „We could go to the library at lunch and look into the yearbooks to find out."
The bell rang, interrupting your little locker investigation.
„Sounds like a plan." You said, before walking to class.
Wally anticipated lunch break and already waited in the yearbook section, when Rhonda suddenly appeared next to him.
„What are you doing here? Aren't you busy catching gossip in the teachers lounge ?" he asked, cocking a brow at her in question.
She smirked. „I love gossip, but seeing your big star student slash jock ego getting crushed by two human girls is even more entertaining to me"
Wally mocked her smirk and rolled his eyes. He was about to reply when he heard you and your friend entering the aisle.
„1981, 1982- ah here Yearbook of 1983. The trophy cabinet has a table with all, the state champion teams and his name was listed in that year."
Rhonda leaned her head on Wally‘s shoulder, or at least as far as she could with their height difference. „Oh superstar, even state champion? Aww, if I wasn't dead I'd feel sorry."
„Fuck you, Rhonda."  Wally scoffed, trying to concentrate on you skipping through the yearbook pages.
„Sorry I'm not into footballers, sweetheart." She sucked on her lollipop again, leaning against the shelf.
Wally took a deep breath. He was a nice guy, really and he liked Rhonda, but sometimes her attitude just got to him.
„Maybe, footballer dick is just what you need to get over your brooding and depressed mood."
Rhonda laughed. „ Ew." She pushed his shoulder.
„Turn to the exceptional students pages." Your friend said and flipped through the book.
There it was, a full double page.
In loving memory of Wally Clark stood under his picture. Fluffy black hair, chocolate brown eyes and charming smile, wearing the exact same jacket you found in your locker today.
„He's dead?" It sounded more like a questioin than a statement coming out of your mouth.
„Sad, he's sexy." You friend stated.
Rhonda nearly choked on her lollipop and Wally swallowed, before a smirk crept upon his lips.
„She did not just say that?" The shorter ghost crossed her arms.
„He is." You agreed before nudging your friend.
„You think he was a fuckboy ?" She laughed and you joined in. Taking the book from you she read the different things written about him.
„Look, this cheerleader wrote ‚He loved eating jelly filled donuts' Oh I'm sure he did" She wiggled her eyebrows.
„Well if I was born back then, I wouldn't mind him tasting my jelly filled donut." you said giggling.
After chattinf some more, the two of you put the book back and left, still giggling about the handsome footballer.
Wally's face burnt bright red and he felt like his cheeks were on fire. He knew that girls had found him cute back when he was alive, but he never heard girls talk about him like that.
„Congratulations stud, now you're a teenage girls' wet dream in two centuries." Rhonda joked and patted his shoulder.
„What do you mean ?" Wally asked nervously.
Of course he had sex before and he did like it rough, but he was in a relationship before he died and even now he only had one partner to relief his teenage hormones. Wally never wanted to use someone for their body, but this ‚trapped in the school as a ghost’ situation didn't really allow any relationships.
„What I mean is, that girls are or were obsessed with you. When you came to this school I couldn't go anywhere without the female students talk about ‚tall and sexy' you are and how hot you look during football practice."  She made a disgusted face and Wally looked at her in shock.
„Oh and don't we forgot about your girlfriend back then. She was very descriptive to her friends about your dick and how exactly you used it to bring her to the edge."
Wally now leaned against the shelves, trying not to freak out.
„But that was long ago, most of the ghosts here died after me." He said, trying to make himself feel better.
„I don't know why you're freaking out so much? I should be freaking out. Of disgust." She tried to calm him.
„You're right. I just thought- I can't believe I was so naiive." he said, looking down.
„Hey Wally, you're a nice guy." she said, making him smile. „Still entitled tho."
He laughed and rolled his eyes.
A few days later you were able togive Wally's mother the stuff you found in his locker. She seemed like a nice woman and you felt a little emotional at how grateful she was.
Especially because you decided to keep the letterman jacket. You gave it to the dry cleaners and basically lived in it ever since picking it up. It was slightly oversized on you but extremly comfortable.
But there was also something different since you wore it. You felt... watched. Just like today, when you got dressed after swimming club.
After leaving the shower, you put a towel over the bench to sit down. You took little longer than usual and had the changing room to yourself.
Suddenly, it's like something tickled over your back, down to your hips. A pleasant sensation. You shivered, reaching for the jacket to cover yourself.
You called out for someone. But you really were alone. Your friend had joked earlier  that Wally Clarks ghost would come for you, because you didn't give back his jacket. Luckily you didn't believe in ghosts and when you sat down on the bench, yet another thought invaded your mind.
You leaned back and opened your legs slightly. Wouldn't be the first time someone touched themselves in the locker rooms. The boys did it all the time after practice.
Your fingers travelled from your navel down to your already wet heat. Exploring your folds, before finding your clit, you closed your eyes. Wally Clark appeared behind your lids. He kneeled between your legs, strong hands holding your hips.
He kissed the creamy skin of your thighs upwards, the dreamiest of chocolate brown bedroom eyes looking up at you. He licked his plump lips before speaking against your folds, the vibration making you hiss out.
„Quite the unusual offer. Letting me eat you out so I'd forgive you for stealing." his tongue lapped up the wetness of your folds and one of his hands found your breasts, kneading them softly before pinching the nipple. One after one.
„Wally, please." You moaned and circled your clit faster. The feeling of being watched heightened your pleasure from the fantasy.
He sucked on your clit and his other hand also left your hip. Two of his fingers pushed inside you, pumping. „Mmmh" he moaned against your sensitive spot. You shivered and moaned his name again and again.
Goosebumps spread over your skin and you were sure his fingers would feel even better than your own. Shifting slightly on the bench, you were sure the towel underneath you was already soaked. The tight coil in your lower abdomen let you know you were close.
„If you weren't already late I'd edge you. Looking so pretty spread out for me on the bench." His fingers curled up and he switched between sucking and licking at your centre.
You came, biting down on your lower lip, so you wouldn't be heard in the nearby hallway. Opening your eyes, you adjusted to reality again and pulled his jacket together in front of your chest. You felt sick, pleasuring yourself to a dead boy. You decided to sit for a bit before redressing and drying your hair.
Wally still kneeled in between your legs. His lips glistened with your juices and he laughed „So much better than a jelly donut"
Licking his fingers clean, he tried to calm his nerves. His hard cock strained against the grey sweatpants, so he sat up and adjusted himself. He really tried holding back, knowing what he did was technically a grey zone of consent, but seeing you spread out on the bench, naked and wearing his jacket, he just couldn't not help you out. Also, you did say you wouldn't mind a few days ago.
He just wished you could see him. It made him dream on his own, about you two. Maybe on the bleachers or in the teachers lounge. Wally really liked the couch in the teachers lounge.
He watched you get dressed and waited for you to leave so he could take care of himself.
The thoughts of Wally haunted you throughout the next few weeks. Maybe his ghost did haunt you. So you decided to help the homecoming committee decorate the school with posters and decoration up until the late night to take your mind off it.
You fell asleep in the Gym. Waking up in the middle of the night on the hard floor you sighed. You were about to collect your stuff and leave when you heard a moan. Looking up, your jaw nearly dropped to the Floor.
Wally sat upon a gym mat, the ghost of a cheerleader who died in the 90s after dropping from a pyramid sat in his lap.
There was an obvious tent in his grey sweatpants. Her cheer skirt was tucked into the seam revealing her bare pussy with two of Wally's fingers knuckle deep inside. There was a wet spot on his crotch and the squishy noise of his fingers pumping at a fast pace hollowed in the gym.
Her moans were swallowed by his lips, hungrily devouring her mouth.
You squeezed your thighs together at the sight. Envious of the girl. Wally pushed a third finger inside, keeping the rough pace. The blonde girl reached down to rub her clit, but Wally slapped her hand away.
He pulled away from her, biting her bottom lip.
„You only get to do that when my cock has been inside of you."
Your head fell back against the wall. God, you must be really going crazy. Hallucinating or dreaming, but you couldn't tear your eyes away.
The blonde pouted. „M'sorry Wally."
He helped her climb off his lap before he stood up on the mat. She was already getting on all fours with spread knees. Meanwhile Wally pulled his sweatpants down, revealing his impressive girth. Getting on one knee behind her, he pumped himself with his head thrown back, before guiding himself inside her.
He started with slow thrusts, obviously not doing this for the first time. The blonde under him closed her eyes, mouth agape in pleasure.
Wally picked up the speed while kneading her asscheeks. Your eyes widened when he spread them, letting a string of his spit drip onto her other hole. He massaged it with his thumb and the blonde responded with screaming his name „Please, Wally. Please Please Please." she writhted under his touch as he pressed down with his thumb.
Your -or more his jacket felt too hot all of a sudden and you felt your hardened nipples against the fabric of your bra. Pressing your thighs together you tried to get some relief.
The blonde bit her lip to silence her pleas buz Wally slapped her cheek „No. No. No. Baby. I wanna hear you. Let them hear you." His hand went back to her ass.
„You can pleasure yourself now." he instructed and her fingers immediately found her clit, circling roughly.
After her first orgasm, he pulled out. His dick dripping with her juices, the head angry and red. Wally helped her turn on her back, legs draped over his shoulders, guiding just the tip inside.
She whimpered. „Please come on my tits, Wally. I want to taste you."
You bit your lip at her voice, full of need and desire.
He smirked and started jerking above her chest. Her hand joined him as he put his abover hers, guiding her how he liked it.
He groaned her name as he came. Thick spurts of his glassy cum decorating her rosy nipples, up to her chin, which she greedily licked up.
She started licking him clean. „Thank you, Wally. Mmmh." He pushed her head down further, and looked up.
You stared at him wide eyed as you made eye contact with him. At first his gaze looked dazed from pleasure, but then he thought you could see him.
But that wouldn't be possible would it? Humans can't see ghosts.
Wally tucked himself away and helped his companion fix herself, but when he turned around you were gone.
He was definitely going to seek you out tomorrow.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed, let me know in the comments & leave me some love 💕
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luvlystarr · 6 days
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.・。.・゜❃・.・❃・゜・。.
Prompt: Leon got you flowers but ended up getting drenched in rain.
Content: Pure fluff!
・゜・。. .・。.・゜
Rain pattered against the window, making soft tapping noises. For the past few days it's been constantly raining hard in the city. It often made your days gloomy.
You were sitting on the couch, listening to soft jazz while reading a book. It was the perfect way to stay cozy on rainy days like this.
As you flip through another page you took a glance at the clock on the wall. '8:32' it read. The day was going to end soon and your boyfriend, Leon, hasn't returned yet. He didn't say he had overtime and it wasn't often he would stay out this late, especially because of the pouring rain.
You decided to set your book down and look out the window of your guy's shared apartment. The sky was already pitch black and you couldn't see anything other than your reflection and some lights coming from passing cars.
The door bell rang throughout the apartment, catching your attention. Without even checking who was at the door you instantly rushed to open it hoping to see Leon.
There he was right in front of you except he was soaking wet. He was holding a bouquet of flowers that were also drenched. His blonde locks stuck close to his forehead while his police uniform dripped with water.
An apologetic smile was on his face as he chuckled, "I wanted to surprise you with flowers but.. it didn't seem to go as planned."
You couldn’t help but laugh at the sight in front of you.
“How sweet of you!” You giggled. “Well, even though their torn, I still really appreciate it.”
You take the flowers, which seems to be lilies, into your hands. “They’re lovely,” you say as your fingers delicately touch the petals.
Leon rubbed the back of his neck, a pink tint was across his cheeks. “I was driving by a flower shop and saw those, they reminded me of you so I had to get them,” he said.
You stand on your tiptoes before leaning closer to him and giving him a quick kiss on the lips. His body was cold and shivering from the freezing temperature but instantly felt warm when your lips pressed against his. Your kisses are always something that Leon looks forward to after a long day of work.
After pulling away, the two of you share a sweet laugh together.
“Thank you for the flowers. But next time, try not to get drenched in rain, yeah?” You chuckle.
“I’ll try,” Leon responds before placing another kiss on your cheek, earning another giggle from you.
・゜・。. .・。.・゜・゜・。.
Thank you for reading my first fanfic! Since I am still new, please let me know if you have any critiques or suggestions. I will be taking requests soon once I put up my guidelines.
Thank you once again! 🤍
・゜・。. .・。.・゜・゜・。.
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