#i don’t think it would be something i’d do right now but i think i want to do it while they’re still young adults

[mywritersmind]

WINNING KISS - LN4

summary : lando isn’t used to being a human mirror, but when a pretty girls tells him to hunch down and let her fix her lipstick in the reflection of his glasses, he’s more than happy to oblige.

listen up : no warnings!!

word count : 750

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I can practically feel the music through my veins. The lights of the club are flashing and my friends are laughing and swinging shots back.

I won today. Singapore has been fucking amazing honestly. Besides the whole drowning in sweat thing.

“So…” Max Fewtrell claps a hand on my shoulder, “Taking a girl home tonight, winner?” He teases me as I roll my eyes and sip my drink, “What- You too tired?” he fakes a frown. I didn’t really want to go out tonight but decided it’s sort of a one in a lifetime thing.

“Go find your girlfriend, idiot.” I eye him.

He throws up his arms and laughs, “Gladly!” As he walks away I feel a hand on my shoulder, spinning me around. I’m surprised who did it had such force for being so small.

A girl stands in front of me, a pencil in hand and for a second I think she’s going to ask for an autograph, “Bend down a bit!” She tugs on my shirt and I do as I'm told because I'm genuinely so confused and the pretty girl means business.

She takes the sunglasses from my head and pushes them over my eyes, looking directly into them and bringing the pencil to her lips.

The ‘pencil’, I now realize, it’s a makeup product and deposits a dark color to her lips as she uses me as her mirror.

As she’s stood in front of me, my eyes can’t help but analyze her. This club is stuffy and smoky but she’s so close I can see everything she has on.

She’s got messy brown hair, silver jewelry, a mini skirt, a fur jacket, and a white corset top. Something about her feels magnetic. She’s stunning.

My eyes go to her lips which she smacks together before pulling out a proper lipstick, as she runs the makeup over her lips I start to smile a bit. She finishes quickly and doesn’t pauses as she starts to place the makeup back in her back.

I slide the glasses down to hang around my neck, I see the recognition appear on her face, “Shit.” She says confidently, “You’re that guy!”

I laugh a bit, standing up straighter and looking down at her, “Nice to meet you too.”

“Sorry! Everyone’s been talking about you today!” My tongue runs over my teeth, smiling a bit, “Thanks for being my mirror. And- congrats, I guess?”

“Thank you. And no problem, I’d never deprive a pretty girl of her lipstick rights.” This makes her laugh and fuck I want to keep her laughing.

She gets a look in her eye, her arms behind her, and her eyes staring up at me, “Well I appreciate it. Like it?” I look at her lips again and I’m beginning to think this is a trick just to make me want to kiss her.

“I do. It suits you.” Her lips pull into a wide smile and she steps a bit closer. “You know- people are talking about me for a reason.” I say, building myself up a bit.

She squints, “Right… A win?” I nod, “You’re celebrating then?”

I nod again, “A bit boring though… if only there was a girl to make my night better.”

She scoffs, “Suppose you want a winning kiss then?” I eye her, sipping my drink once more. My eyes flick to her lips but she doesn’t stop looking at me.

“I mean- your lipstick would look great on me.” I say smugly as she stops herself from smiling, humming and nodding.

“Would it?” She says into my ear, the club getting louder with the music.

“Suppose we’ll have to check and see.” I say in her ear this time and when I pull back, I can tell she’s trying to figure me out.

She hums again, leaning in close and slipping her hand onto my neck. Her cool rings practically sting my hot skin. She turns my head slightly, I feel her stand taller to softly kiss my cheek.

When she pulls away, I’m smirking again, “Let me get your number.” I don’t even ask it as a question.

She pulls the lipliner out of her bag once more, uncapping it with her teeth and taking my arm. She scrolls the numbers slowly against my arm, holding me close.

When she’s done and there’s red numbers up my arm, she closes the product and smiles kindly, saying “Congratulations, winner.” before walking away.

[luveline]

Hi!!

Could a please request Peter Parker x reader where they’ve been together for a while and discuss family planning? Like they want to start a family together but both have anxieties for different reasons with Peter being Spider-Man and just general nerves at this being a big step and they comfort one another?

If you get round to this then thank you!!!

thank you for requesting! fem, 1k

“But you’re Spider-Man.” 

Peter doesn’t know how you ended up like this, his face at your feet, his feet past your head in his pillows. Your toes wiggle in your socks unthinkingly. 

“I’m Spider-Man.” 

“How are we s’posed to have a baby if you’re a superhero?” 

You ask it without malice; you aren’t telling him to do one thing or another, you’re just posing a simple question. Or, not so simple. Thinking about it provokes a hundred different questions, and he gets your point. How can he be a father if he’s a superhero, half the time? How can he expect you to sign on to motherhood while he risks his life? 

He has to prove that he can do it without getting hurt. Without getting anyone hurt. 

“I’ve been Spider-Man for a long time,” he says softly. 

You pretend to drop your foot on his face. He laughs and curls into you, an arm around your leg like a wonky cuddle. “And it gets more dangerous every year.” 

“I would… being Spider-Man is…” Peter noses at your leg. Your pyjama pants are hiked up near your knee, leaving a calf open for his mouth to brush against. “I’m Spider-Man,” he says again. That’s the simplest explanation. He just is Spider-Man. “But I would change things. I already have, I mean, I have you to think about now.” 

“I just don’t know if I’d be okay with having a baby, if you might die.” 

Peter sits up. He frowns. “I’m not going to die.” 

You just nibble your lip. 

“Is that something you worry about?” 

You sit up to meet him. “Of course I do.” 

He’s thankful you’re close. He takes your hand, turning your wedding ring to see the stone laid at the apex. You used to worry so much it would make you sick, and he changed to make that easier on you, because he loves you. What was the point in getting married if he was gonna leave you in agony every time he left the house? Newspapers scorned a more careful Spider-Man, and Peter has had to make some hard calls. He can’t be selfless anymore —he thinks about you every time he throws a new web. 

He didn’t realise you were still worried. “When was the last time I got hurt?” 

“Last night.” 

He winces. “Alright, when was the last time I got hurt enough to need medical attention?”

“Last Tuesday.” 

“Bub, that was one finger, it healed in two hours.” 

“But if you were a normal guy, it would’ve been weeks.” You aren’t out to torture him, or argue, your lips puckered for a quick kiss as he pulls you toward him. “I’m just saying,” you murmur, tapping his nose, your eyebrow pressed against his, “if you want a baby with me? You’re gonna have to give up even more. Okay?” 

“Okay,” he says immediately. 

Okay. Because he’s Spider-Man, and it means everything to him, but he’s your husband. This is your life together. 

“I want a baby with you,” he says, a murmur to match your own as his hands wrap around your waist. He drags you forward, your faces still smushed together. “I want kids, and you want them too, and I want you to have everything. So if you need me to change, I can change. I can’t stop, but I can make it work.” 

“You’d have to stop sometimes–”

He leans away and cups your shoulder. “I know. I’m not gonna get you pregnant and go out every night.” 

“Just every other.” 

“No, no,” he insists softly. “Bub, listen to me. If you’re ready, then I’m ready. No messing around. I’m your partner, right? I’m your husband before I’m Spider-Man.” 

“Are you sure?” you ask. 

Peter’s not mad, but he’s a little upset you’d think so. He’s not trying to make you feel this way. He wants you to have total confidence in him, and your potential future family.

“You need me to tell you that? I’ve never been more sure about anything.” 

He doesn’t need you to agree to a baby tonight or anything, he just wants you to be happy with him. So he tells you emphatically that you’re his world. You already know why he’s Spider-Man, the responsibility that drives him, but there’s responsibility in being with you and making you happy. At the end of the day, you come first. He wishes you knew that, but he doesn’t mind telling you. 

It’s a little later with his arms around you, right side up this time, that he confesses, “I don’t even know if I’d be a good dad.” 

You aren’t worried. “That’s silly. As long as you don’t get killed by a giant radioactive reptile, you’ll be amazing.”

“How do you know?” 

“Same way you know I’ll be a good mom.” 

“You will be.”

You kiss his neck. “I knew you’d say that. I don’t know if I’ll be a good mom, I just know you believe in me.” 

“I do.”

“You’ll be a good dad,” you further, pressed as far into his neck as you can be, lavished by his hands running up and down your back. “I know parenting is a lot of things, but I really think it’s the same as being a good boyfriend. You’re kind. You’re so patient. You’re funny. I can’t wait to have a little baby that looks like you n…” You sigh. He loves that touch of wistfulness behind it. “I can’t wait to be a family with you.” 

“Are you tired?” he asks. 

You mumble. “Mm. Just a bit.” 

He strokes your neck. “I can’t wait to be a family, either… maybe it can wait until tomorrow, though.” 

You smile into his jaw, dragging yourself up to kiss his cheek. “Love you, Peter Parker.” 

[p4ranormaluv]

ive been wondering .. which enha member wants someone inexperienced and which want someone experienced? and like, if they want someone experienced would they want to take care or her or to ruin her? or if they wanted someone experienced would they want like a brat to tame or her to top them? IDK IF THIS MAKES SENSE

ENHA: EXPERIENCED VS INEXPERIENCED . ݁₊ ♱

pairing) hyung line x f!reader contents) smut, piv, org.asm control, edgi.ng, creampie, brat taming?, a little degrada.tion in hee’s, praise, overstim, switch!jake xp, squirting, corruption/innocence kink

heeseung)

experienced; based on concert/fan service clips + him saying he likes sexy over cute + my hunch that he prefers slightly older women/girls his age, i’d say experienced. nothing turns him on more than if you’re confident and know what you’re doing— even if you’re more experienced than him, he would enjoy that because you can teach him ‘new things’ ;). he’ll also really enjoy when you get a little bratty. heeseung likes when his partner knows how to be playful, he finds the sultry teasing really sexy.

dominate you / dominate him; i think heeseung’s a switch with a dom lean, so he usually prefers to be the one in control— but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t enjoy watching you test the limits, just so he can put you back in your place everytime.

“naughty— fucking— girl.” heeseung growls, punctuating every word with another merciless thrust into your aching pussy, yet to have cum as your boyfriend keeps denying you of release. “talked big shit and now you can’t even take it?” heeseung smirks, tone deep as he tries to hide how he’s losing his own breath from how long he’s been edging you, filling your sopping pussy up with his cum again and again. “that’s what baby gets when she’s a brat. you understand that now?”

jay)

inexperienced; honestly i think he’d like both, but if i had to say, it would be inexperienced. i think jay likes to feel like the main caretaker in your relationship and that translates into the bedroom too. he’d find it really cute and endearing if you didn’t know how to do something or were a little awkward. he really gets off on explaining to you how to do things, holding your hand if you get nervous and treating you like a princess.

care for you / ruin you; as i said, jay loves to make you feel loved and cared for. praising you in a sweet tone— practically baby talking you, caressing over your body in loving touches as you squirm in embarrassment and pleasure at what he’s doing to you? he’ll go crazy. (honestly i think simply praising you and watching you feel good is enough to make him cum untouched, but maybe we’ll talk about that another time.)

“you okay, sweetie?” jay asks once he’s fit all of himself inside your pussy. he can feel you clenching around him with need, and he hasn’t even done anything yet.

“yes, m’good. please— please move.” you beg quietly, already so turned on as jay hovers over you, looking down at you like you’re an angel— despite the very impure position you’re in, legs bent and pushed to your chest as you take his cock. jay starts pushing in and out of you just right, his hands moving just as expertly over your perked nipples. he groans out at your cute little sounds and how your body is already quivering. “fuck, it’s— it’s never felt this good before, jay. you feel so good.”

“shit, princess. don’t talk to me like that unless you want me to go ahead and cum inside of you.”

jake)

experienced; he wouldn’t mind if you were inexperienced but he’s just so horny and that can lead to him being impatient. i also think it would just make him feel really comfortable and freeing to be with an experienced woman. he’d get really turned on by how well you know what you like and how fast you can get to know his body and what he likes too.

dominate you / dominate him; i’m on my switch!jake agenda again 🤪. he loves fucking you hard and making you cry out in pleasure, withering and gushing around his cock just as much as he loves to be on his knees begging for you.

“hah— y/n, b—baby, please! oh my god, please don’t stop fucking me!” jake whimpers and moans as he’s laid down, you on top of him and bouncing on his dick like it’s a toy— like there isn’t a boy attached to hit being pounded into the mattress with each movement.

it doesn’t take long until your both reaching your climaxes, you moving to lay beside jake and catch your breath. but the man has other plans as he flips himself over top of you and plunges his cock inside of your warm walls again. “jake? b— baby, fuck! m’sensitive.”

“one more, love. can you give me one more? god, just can’t get enough of this fuckin’ pussy, baby.”

sunghoon)

inexperienced; similar to jay, he really gets off on your lack of experience. hoon definitely has an innocence/corruption kink. and if you’re looking up at him with your trusting yet slightly nervous eyes, waiting for him to take control of the situation and your body— letting him call all the shots— holy fuck, he might bust right there.

care for you / ruin you; he’ll never do anything you don’t want or rush you of course, but with your permission he will not hesitate to absolutely wreck you. he’ll literally go crazy at the opportunity to go where no one has gone before with you, make you react in ways you never thought you could.

“hoonie, hoonie! i— something’s happening,” you struggle to explain, a foreign sensation taking over your body as your pussy builds with pressure, sunghoon continuing to fuck his impossibly huge cock into your little body. “you gonna cum for me again? i know you got it in you, baby. my slutty little angel.”

“no, no!” you cry, trying and failing to push sunghoon away as the pressure finally becomes to much and the dam breaks, squirting all over sunghoon dick and pelvis.

“holy shit…” he marvels, watching how your shaking orgasm hasn’t even ended yet as he stills, watching how it covers himself and the sheets. you almost choke on your own saliva when sunghoon starts fucking you again— even harder this time. “hoonie, can’t.”

“oh you can and you will, angel. gonna make you squirt until your pussy is drained dry.”

[jarofstyles]

Appetency

Okay so we've got a bit of a long one. Kinda enemies to lovers if you blink, fuckboyrry turned softrry, dedication galore, hesitant Y/N and confident H, you're gonna love it. This is the first half- the other half is already up on Patreon and will be here later on 💕

Check out our Patreon for early access to the second half and 200+ exclusive writings

Warnings- slight angst, mentions of anxiety, alcohol, cocky h turned into a loverboy... nothing too crazy in this part.

WC- 8.5k

“Why are you every-fucking-where.” Y/N stopped short, glaring at the man across from her. The entire party, she had been trying to avoid him- but he wasn’t letting that be at all possible.

Harry grinned widely at that, the most obnoxious and infuriatingly pretty smile with those stupid dimples. Leaning against the wall as he studied her for a good moment, there was no hiding the not so casual enjoyment he got out of flustering her. 

Finally, he broke the silence, standing up from his casually cool stance on the wall. She knew he was going to say something that annoyed her and it was proven as he opened his mouth. "C’mon, don’t be like that. Perhaps you just can't keep me off your mind, baby girl. Can’t stop thinking about me, seeing me everywhere…"

“Ew. Do not call me that.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust for the nickname, walking past him. He followed, of course, because he always did. “Just because we have a few similar friends doesn’t mean you need to be at every social event. I’d love a break from your smug face.”

"You can't possibly be getting tired of this handsome face already…" He protested as he followed behind, his words purposely trying to rile her up. Getting a rise out of her seemed to make his whole day, and usually she would laugh it off but this time… things were different. Finding a spot in the kitchen, he watched as she puttered around trying not to look at him. 

His eyes danced with amusement as he added in some more. "Or are you just mad that I always seem to steal the show, love? Not my fault that I'm effortlessly charming and captivating, darling."

“Humble, too.” She snorted, grabbing a drink from the cooler. Buzzballs were not the thing she’d want to choose when she was thinking about the next morning, but they were exactly what she needed when it came to trying to mentally escape right now. “You’re insufferable. Really.” His eyes were on her as she used her nail to pop open the cap. 

“So are you going to leave me alone, or follow me around all night?”

Harry chuckled in amusement at her sarcasm, enjoying the way she rolled your eyes at him. "Leave you alone when you look this lovely? Not a chance in hell, darling." He hummed, tapping his own bottle against the counter. He paid no mind to the new people who entered the space, eyes glued on the girl he was talking to. "But as much as I'd love to keep annoying you, I have a much better way we could spend time. Don't you remember, love?" He purred. “I certainly do. It’s hard to forget the way it feels when you moan-” The interruption was instant, her hand gripping onto him. 

“Harry…” she hissed, tugging his arm further down the dark hallway and into a bedroom. Who’s? She didn’t know. All she knew was that she had seen where this was going, and she didn’t want him to say it too loudly. Everyone was so god damn nosy and respectfully, she didn’t want to deal with any of that. Not after all she had said.

“Listen.” Putting her hands on her hips, she tilted her head up at him as he stood a little too close. “We hooked up, it was a mistake. You know it.” Though it didn’t seem like he thought so considering how he trailed her ever since. “We… we were a little drunk and I was lonely and you were there.” 

Y/N knew she was slightly lying, but she was trying to fool herself. If she said it enough times, maybe she’d believe it. They’d always had chemistry. It was intensity that burned between them, her disdain and his addiction to getting a rise out of her. It was only a matter of time that they’d give into some sort of blow out- but she hadn’t expected it to be as good as it was. It couldn’t happen again. 

Harry had that knowing smirk on his face as she tried to deny it all, knowing exactly where this was headed. The thrill of chasing her, of getting under her skin was intoxicating, addicting. He loved making her growl and huff and glare at him, because it meant getting her undivided attention.

"Was it really a mistake?" He asked as he leaned against the door, finally giving her some breathing room.  "Or have you just been avoiding me because you couldn't stop thinking about it?"

The truth was that he had been thinking about that night ever since. Multiple times. Before he went to sleep, when he was in the shower.. It was hard not to. 

Her jaw clenched, placing her bottle down and crossing her arms. “Look. You’re hot, Harry. You don’t need me to tell you that. You’ve got plenty big of an ego. But I’ve been avoiding you because it can not happen again.” 

Y/N knew that Nina was into Harry and she really didn’t want to start any drama. Not that he even seemed remotely into her, but because she acted like he was someone she had dibs on. As gross as it was, she tended to start shit with anyone Harry pursued and she just wasn’t in the season for drama. There were other things to worry about other than start a feud over a man. 

He had known about Nina's crush on him, but he didn't care about her. He never had, and he never would. As fucked up as it was, what they had, in his mind, was just a harmless flirtation, nothing more. Y/N knew that, but Nina didn’t. He couldn't have been more clear he had no interest in her, but some people took delusion to heart. 

It didn’t matter how good Harry gave it to her last time, how hard her legs shook, how sore she was in the best way. Didn’t matter if his tongue was hot and through and how he’d cleaned her up with it. It couldn’t be repeated.

Harry's smirk only widened as she openly admitted he was attractive, his ego inflating even more. But when she mentioned avoiding him, his smile faltered slightly.

"Why can't it happen again?" He asked, moving closer to her, his eyes darkened. Too close, making her take a deep breath. If there was one thing he would give him, his presence was commanding. Felt. Her body was very familiar with his now, wanting to lean into him, but she fought it.

“Because.” She sighed tiredly. “I really can’t deal with any drama. I’m exhausted, and the last thing I need is that she-devil going after me because she thinks I’m ‘stealing her man.’ “

The man let out a laugh, amused by the comment. Yeah, he knew exactly who she was referring to and found it funny. He knew she could be a drama queen, and he definitely didn't care for her possessive tendencies, but he had told her that they had nothing going on between them and never would.

He stepped closer to her, his greedy hands reaching out to touch her hips, his touch firm. "You're not stealing me, love. She never had me, and she's delusional if she thinks she does." His eyes gleamed with desire as he looked at her, his touch becoming a bit more possessive in his own way. "And I want you, not her."

“Harry, you don’t actually want me.” She groaned in frustration, trying to ignore how her tummy dropped as he pulled her into him, his other hand curling around her jaw. Stupid body, stupid hormones, stupid muscle memory.  “You think you do because you like a chase. You don’t actually like me or anything, you like how I fuck.” She said bluntly, glancing up at him.

Harry's smug expression faltered as she protested. He could feel the annoyance, but he also noticed the way her body responded to his touch. There was no denying that. "Is that what you really think?" He asked, his grip on her jaw tightening slightly as he looked down at her. "That I'm just chasing you only for the thrill of the chase, for the sex?"

His eyes darkened, his other hand moving lower on her hip, pulling her flush against him. He could feel her body against his, the softness, the warmth, and he wanted it all back. There had been no way she could tell him that she hadn’t enjoyed it, considering he’d made her cum 3 times, made her gush all over his cock. She’d clung to him, held onto him, whimpered his name. But he’d taken care of her, he had gotten her some pomegranate juice and a snack, helped her tie her hair up, driven her home. When the contact had been nonexistent, he was hoping she was just making him work for it- but that wasn’t all this was to him.

“Yeah.” She furrowed her brows. “Is it not?” Harry wasn’t the relationship type, not usually. Everyone knew that. Y/N had constantly reminded herself that when they’d first met and she had a bit of a crush on him, only to see that he liked to fuck em’ and leave ‘em. It lost the appeal and she had resented him a bit for it. 

Was it fair? No. She knew that. But their dynamic had been built on that resentment. 

Harry's jaw clenched at her response, frustration and something else flickering in his face. He loosened his grip on her slightly, his gaze searching her eyes, trying to convey something she obviously wasn’t picking up on.

"And what if I told you that you were wrong?" He asked, his voice low. "What if I told you that there's more to me than just chase and sex?" He tilted his face closer to hers, his hand on her hip keeping her snug. He hadn't realized it himself just how touch deprived for her he actually was. Did she really think it was all just… a game? Had he not proven himself to her that night? Granted, he had maybe fucked up in how he communicated after but… the ball had been put in her court. 

He could tell that she was skeptical, but he was determined to make her believe him.

"I want you." He said firmly, his hand on her jaw moving to wrap around the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair. "I want everything. Your body, your mind, your heart." His hand on her hip moved lower, his touch a little needy. "And the fact that I can't have you is driving me insane. Want you to believe me."

“But why?” She sputtered. “All we do is argue. All I do is blow you off and all you do is follow me around to piss me off.” 

She had no idea he had his own fascination with her. How he’d silently watched her, observed, saw how she was with other people and wanted that chance to feel that. To have one of those smiles for himself.

Harry shook his head with a light laugh, his grip on her flexing slightly as he stared down at the girl he had been playing cat and mouse with. "Because I'll take the arguing, the blowoffs, all of it, just to be near you. I don't know when it truly started, but you've gotten under my skin, love." He pushed her back against the door, his body pressed against hers, trapping the girl. Looking down at her, his eyes were dark with desire, with honesty. It was a little unsettling.

“Harry.” She swallowed, eyes fluttering as his fingers stroked over her jaw and down over her throat, tenderness tinging the touches. “It’s not funny if this is a joke. It’s not.”

Harry's let out a tired breath, his touch gentle as he stroked her delicate skin, taking advantage of every touch. He could see that vulnerability in her eyes, and it only made him more determined to prove himself. "M’not joking. " He said firmly. "This is serious, I want you, and m’not giving up until I have you."

“Then you’re gonna have to work for it.” She exhaled sharply, pushing out of his hold and escaping back towards the party.

Y/N was almost fooled into giving in again- but she could give in without a real, true idea of what he was dedicated to. Maybe it was cruel of her to try and write him off as a bit of a slut trying his luck, but she’d never been awarded the chance to get to know him outside of their usual dynamic. 

That was why, the next day, seeing him on her front porch had her gasping in surprise. “Shit!” She yelped, keys falling to the wood below her. 

He looked good. The night of sleep seemed to refresh him, he’d showered, and he was bright eyed this morning. Determined. Why? She didn’t know. But this was not at all what she had expected when opening her front door. “ You scared the fuck out of me. What are you doing here?”

"Good morning, love." He greeted her. “Nice to see you this mornin’. You look gorgeous.” That cheeky fucking grin, as usual, tilted on his mouth. 

She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow in question. "You didn't answer my question. What are you doing here?"

Harry flashed her a grin, completely unfazed by her skepticism.  "I'm here to see you, of course." He said, as if it was obvious. “Silly thing.”

“Why?” She didn’t want to get too huffy with him but he was nearly speaking in riddles and she didn’t have the patience for that. “Are you alright?”

Of course he was amused at how frustrated she looked, finding her impatience obviously endearing. Maybe it was just her, though. Y/N was a bit of a weakness of his, he found. Pushing himself up the final step, he grabbed her keys and handed them back to her, making no effort to pull his hands away from her own. 

"I'm fine, love." He hummed casually. "I just wanted to see you." Holding her hands in his, his thumbs rubbing soft circles on the skin. Casual intimacy that slightly caught her off guard.

The girl merely looked at him in confusion.  The plan for today had been to go to the grocery shop and do stuff around the house, not entertain the man who had admitted to wanting her last night- but she knew if he was here, it meant he was determined to get his way.

Aka, spending time with her. 

“Okay.. So now you saw me.” She said lowly. “Do you want to go home now?”

The sight of her looking so flustered and on edge fueling his determination, he shook his head.  "Not yet." He said, his voice low and firm. "M’not leaving until I get some of your time."

Y/N closed her eyes, taking a deep inhale through her nose and exhaling through her mouth. Meditative breathing did wonders, it seemed. Usually. She knew Harry well enough to know that he wasn’t going to let this go. He was going to keep prodding until he understood that he probably had no actual intention of being around her long term. He was looking at her with metaphorical sex goggles on. Yeah, she was good in bed, but that was only a tiny portion of her. 

He’d learn eventually.

“Well, I have to go to the store. So…”

Harry watched you closely as she opened her eyes from the attempting to calm herself. It was a little unnerving to know she needed to calm down from such a simple interaction but then again, he had been coming on a little strong. It was his nature, but he tried to relax his stance a bit. No way was he going to let an opportunity to spend time with her be wasted. He was dedicated now, wanting to win her over.  "You're going to the store?" He leaned in closer. “Looks like I'll just have to come with you, then."

Y/N sputtered as he took her handbag and totes from her, tucking them under his arm as the other held her hand. 

“C’mon.” He said smugly, pulling her towards his car. She followed, confused at how he had just agreed to go grocery shopping with her. Willingly. It wasn’t something he liked doing and she knew that- she somehow had found out one night that he had his delivered- but he seemed eager to do this with her. 

The last thing she expected was for him to open the passenger door and help her inside, but he did. Like it was second nature, opening it up and taking her hand to aid her into sitting sound, placing her bags on her lap.

Harry's smirk widened as he scooped up her handbag and totes, his grip on your hand firm as he guided her towards his car. He snickered under her breath at her sputtered protest, enjoying her disbelief that he was actually willing to go grocery shopping with her. Like it was some sort of hardship.

Once he had settled her in, he leaned in closer, the smell of cinnamon gum filling her senses. Keeping his stance, his eyes locked on her, his gaze intense. He could see the confusion in her eyes, and it only fueled his determination to make it second nature to her, to expect this sort of thing from him. . 

"You look cute this morning." He said, his voice low and smooth. "Did you get much sleep last night?" He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch gentle.

Her cheeks felt hot as he tenderly touched her, the softness of it all surprising her. “Um… I did.” The compliment had flustered her too. It wasn’t something she was used to from him. Their usual dynamic was tense on her end and being a pain in the ass with a stupid smirk on his. This sort of treatment was new to her. 

“Thanks. You look….” It felt unnatural to compliment him, but she meant it. Strangely enough. All of this was so new to her.  “Nice.”

Harry chuckled at the slight hesitation in her words, enjoying the way she was thrown off by his tenderness. One day she was going to accept it.  He smiled at her attempt at a compliment, narrowing his gaze at her. "Just nice?" He teased, raising an eyebrow.  He placed a light hand on her knee, his thumb stroking her skin in small circles, his touch gentle and comforting.

“Well, handsome? I dunno.” She grumbled. “Just so you know, you’re carrying all the grocery bags. If you insist on coming along you need to be useful.”

"Oh, I can be very useful, love. You jus’ need to find out what else I can off s’all." He said, his hand continuing its caressing on her knee, his touch sending a little jolt through her body "And don’t worry, I’ll carry all the bags. You just worry about picking out what you need."

Harry could see the doubt in her eyes as he reassured her about carrying the bags, and he knew he had to prove it. Not just that, but the whole thing. He hadn’t won her over quite yet, but he would. 

Removing his hand from her knee, he ignored how much he missed the touch and stood up straight, standing tall and strong next to the car. 

"You don’t believe me?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "Just watch, sweetheart. Gonna shock the shit out of you."

——-

Y/N was suspicious. 

Harry was… behaving. More than, actually. He was being sweet and polite, borderline charming. Standing beside her as she pushed the cart, grabbing the items at the top shelves, not rushing her at all. He was flirty, sure, but nothing insane that truly made her roll her eyes at him. His voice was soft spoken and held only a tiny bit of the arrogance it usually did… and she liked it.

Who the fuck was this? And what had they done with the normal Harry? 

“You’re freaking me out a little.” She mumbled, checking off another thing on her list. “Like, you’re being pleasant. That’s not normal for you.”

"What, I can't be pleasant sometimes?" He teased, giving her a look. 

He couldn't help but grin as he watched her check off another item on the grocery list, his eyes roaming freely over her focused expression. He was enjoying this, he realized, enjoying the chance to be close to her more than he would have ever expected. "Maybe I’m just in a good mood today." He said, leaning against the cart.

“It’s just suspicious.” She glanced at him from the side of her eye. “You’re always following me around and trying to get me to snap at you. So excuse me for being a little confused when you’re acting so normal and nice.”

Harry liked working her up and getting reactions out of her, but he liked her. Y/N gave him the tummy butterflies, the excitement, the hot cheeks, all of it. She just didn’t know that- or was heavily in denial. It was his fault, he knew, from never expressing how serious the desires were and expecting her to read between the lines. But fuck, could she blame him? Y/N was a spitfire.

“Can you- fuck.” She groaned. “This can not get any worse.” 

Across the aisle, she saw her. Nina. Glaring at the scene of Harry standing a little too close to Y/N, doing a domestic activity like shopping together… It looked like they were way more than friends. This wasn’t something he liked doing and of course, the other girl would know that… So the situation didn’t look too good.

Harry could feel the shift in her mood as she spotted Nina across the aisle, and he tensed up slightly, ready for the inevitable confrontation.  Fuck, and they’d been doing so good. Of course, someone had to throw him a curveball. 

Good thing he was willing to work for this. 

"Relax." He said quietly, his hand squeezing her shoulder reassuringly, thumbing over the fabric. "I'll handle it."

Harry could feel the tension in her body as he held onto her, knowing that she was on edge. He knew Nina could be a handful, and he didn't want her to add to the stress of the situation. Especially after Y/N was seemingly warming up to him.

He took a deep breath and turned to her, his expression neutral but firm. 

"Nina." He said, his voice calm and steady- almost bored. "Why are you glaring at us like that?”

Nina’s eyes flicked between the pair, her expression hardening as she spoke. “What are you two doing?” She asked, her voice dripping with disdain. 

Harry kept his expression neutral, his hand on Y/N unmoving as he spoke to her. “We’re shopping. Is that a crime?” He replied, his tone cool.

Nina’s lip curled up in a sneer, her eyes narrowing. "Shopping? Is that all?" She asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Awfully domestic, isn’t it?”

Harry chuckled, unruffled by her attitude. "Yes, Nina. We’re just picking up some groceries. Is that so hard to believe?" he challenged, letting her try and intimidate him. It wasn’t going to work. 

The girl’s jaw clenched as Harry responded to her, clearly annoyed at the lack of reaction she was getting from him. 

She took a step closer, sizing Y/N up with an unpleasant expression. She really needed to not make that face- it was unflattering.  “Is this a date or something?” She snapped, her eyes flickering over to Harry.

Harry chuckled at Nina’s question, finding her assumption humorous. 

He looked over at the girl he wished would say yes, his eyes filled with amusement. "What do you think, love?” He taunted.  Maybe it wasn’t the nicest thing to do, but he didn’t particularly care. 

Y/N rolled her eyes. This wasn’t what she wanted out of this interaction. Hell- she never wanted his interaction at all. “We’re shopping.” She said lowly. “And we have to go.”

Nina pursed her lips as her response, clearly unsatisfied with the answer she was given. She never could leave well enough alone. Harry could see her gearing up for another snarky comment, so he quickly interjected. 

"She’s right." He said, his tone firm. “We do have to go. Bye."  There was no hint of remorse on his face as he motioned for her to get out of the way. 

With that, he guided Y/N forward, steering both her and the cart towards the checkout area.

“Christ.” Y/N rubbed her temples. “She’s gonna try and burn my house down. I know it.” She sulked.

Harry chuckled at the outburst. He continued steering the cart towards the checkout area as she went back over the list, a small smile on his lips. 

"Don't be so overdramatic." He teased. "She's not gonna burn down your house. She's just jealous."

“Harry, she’s scared like, 4 women away from hanging out anywhere near you completely.” Y/N sighed. “I know you don’t see it as much, but she’s tenacious. I don’t know what’s going to get her to stop, but you need to actually have a conversation with her to tell her you’re not interested. Or whoever ends up being your girlfriend is going to have to deal with her crawling around.”

Harry’s smile faded slightly as she mentioned Nina’s past behavior. He knew she could be intense and possessive, but he didn’t realize the extent of her actions. Considering he hadn’t even slept with her, it seemed like a massive overreaction. Of course there had been natural curiosity over some of the women in their friend circle had gone, but now that question had been answered. 

He bit his lip, mulling over the words as he helped her load the groceries onto the checkout belt. "You’re right." He said finally, his voice serious as it broke up the beeping of the items being scanned. "I guess I didn’t realize it was that serious. M’sorry. I don't particularly want to have that conversation, but it needs to be had. I’ll talk to her."

Harry continued helping you with the groceries, lost in thought for a moment before speaking again. "I’ll talk to her soon, make sure she knows for sure me and her are never going to be a thing and if she wants to try and scare off anyone I talk to, she won’t be invited to anything else." He said firmly, his eyes serious. 

"But first," he added, breaking the tense air as his tone turned playful again, "We have to get these groceries home. I’m starving."

—

It was safe to say that she was even more confused than she had started off being. 

Harry helped her bring the groceries into her place. He helped her unpack. He even fed her cat while she washed the fruit so she could put it away. Helping himself to her house like he had a right to be there, a comfortability that had her a little spooked. 

It was hard to accept the thought of Harry actually liking her. First, she hadn’t ever seen him with a serious girlfriend. All she had been exposed to was seeing him fucking around with different people. Secondly, he was always so playful and unserious that internally, the most insecure part of her felt like maybe it was a trick, and it made her more apprehensive of him. 

It wasn’t fair of her to be so judgmental when she was not a virgin mary herself; she knew that she wasn’t giving him a proper shot, but it was scary. He was scary, in a way.  Maybe it was the idea of how far feelings could go if she gave in, but it felt hard to stop those original emotions she had towards him from coming back. 

“Thank you.” She said awkwardly as Harry sat at her breakfast bar. “Um, for helping put away the stuff and bringing it inside. That was really nice of you.”

Harry, who was lounging in a chair at the breakfast bar, chuckled at the awkward gratitude.  "S’no big deal." He said, his tone casual. "I’m happy to help." 

He leaned back in the chair, his eyes roaming over her face, his favorite thing to do. Watching her was the best part of being around her.  He could see the tension in her shoulders and the uncertainty in her expression, and it made him wonder what was going on in that head of hers. Why she was so apprehensive. Yeah, he knew he had a weird dynamic with her before, but no one thought of him as a bad guy.

The longer he looked, the longer Harry could tell that there was something bothering her, and he wanted to find out what. Call it morbid curiosity, but it was needed. He leaned forward a bit, his eyes locked on her pretty face.

"You seem a little tense." He said, his voice soft. "Is everything okay? You've been quiet since we got back."

She hadn’t expected him to call her out on it, but she should have. Harry was as blunt as they came, and she could have laughed at it if she didn’t feel a little anxious. 

“I’m okay.” She wrapped her arms around herself, looking at her feet for a moment the soft green ladybug socks he had given her a laugh over. “I’m a little anxious, I guess. This new dynamic kind of… put me off kilter.” The confession hung in the air before she continued.  “I’m used to you being annoying and… I dunno. It’s unfair of me, but I keep getting nervous that this is some joke to you and you’re gonna go back to being obnoxious once I let my guard down.” She winced. “And I’m sorry. That isn’t fair to you when I know I haven’t been the nicest to you either. But I guess you intimidate me a little.”

Harry listened intently as she spoke, his expression softening as she revealed the source of the troubled look on her face. He knew that he had been a bit of an arse in the past too, and he could understand why his sudden change in behavior had thrown her off. 

He leaned forward on his hands, his gaze still fixed on the girl’s tense stance, lips rolled into her mouth. "I get it." He said quietly. "And I’m sorry if I intimidated you or made you uncomfortable. That’s the last thing I wanted to do."  He ran a hand through his hair, sighing softly. "And as for this being a joke... it’s not. Not in the slightest. Trust me."

“I guess I’m a little confused too.” She admitted. “Where all of this is coming from. I know we hooked up a few weeks ago, but you didn’t call me or anything after. I wasn’t expecting you to, don’t get me wrong, but then I felt awkward seeing you at all the events and stuff and you were acting normal. I never let you get alone with me on purpose because I didn’t want to hear you tease me for giving into you.”

Harry’s expression soured a bit as she brought up the hook-up. He knew he hadn’t done anything to dispel her doubts about his intentions, and he felt a pang of regret.  He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. How could he explain it without sounding as stupid as he felt? “I know I didn’t call you after, and I should have. I was an idiot… I just… I thought maybe you wanted me to chase a bit, that the ball had been left in your court after I dropped you off at home and… and I didn’t think, honestly.”  He ran a hand through his hair, a frustrated sigh escaping his lips. 

“You have to understand why I’m a little uneasy.” With arms wrapped around herself, she let herself look back up at him. There was no trace of joking on his features and it did make her feel a tad bit better.  “It’s not that I didn’t like… what we did.” It was the best she’d ever had. “But I think I’m not cut out for just hooking up. I don’t regret it, even if I acted like I did.” She decided to give him a tiny bit of her vulnerability to see what he did with it. “I just know that hooking up, for me, never ends well. And I don’t know you really well, Harry.” She fiddled with the hem of her shirt, nerves shot. The last thing she wanted to do was seem desperate about locking him down or something, but she couldn’t lie to him or herself.

“I’m not trying to make you feel any sort of pressure to want to date me or anything. I’m just trying to lay down a boundary that for me, I think I’m one of those people that really needs an intimate connection and trust with someone. For some reason I trusted you that night, and I know you wouldn’t harm me in that way, but sobered up and standing in front of you, I feel a little apprehensive. Like, I don’t want you to feel any sort of pressure from me, but in order to have me in the way you said you want… it has to have some level of commitment is basically what I’m trying to say.”

Harry listened intently as she laid down the boundaries, his expression thoughtful. He could see the vulnerability in her eyes and in the way she fidgeted with her shirt, and it tugged at his heart in a way he hasn't felt before.  The last thing he wanted was for her to feel any sort of regret and he was glad she hadn’t so far, but he had to appreciate her laying out the law here. It gave him direction on where to go. When she finished speaking, he took a moment to process the words before responding. He can feel the seriousness of the conversation, and it's clear that she wasn’t making demands lightly.

He took a deep breath, his own vulnerability on display in his honest gaze. It was imperative to him that she understood how much he got it. How dedicated he would be to it if given the chance. "I understand." He said quietly, licking over his bottom lip. "I understand that you need a committed relationship, darling. I also understand that you need trust and intimacy in order to get there." he added, his voice soft. 

He took a moment to organize his thoughts, then continued speaking. It should be laid out in front of her. “You know, I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately… about us, I mean.”

“What do you mean?” She asked quietly, taking the moment to look him in the eye. It was the most serious she had ever seen him. Usually he had that smirk on his face, so smug or teasing, he’d be poking and prodding at her to get a reaction- but nothing about this interaction was insincere. It was almost off putting to see him this way.

Harry's gaze met hers, his eyes intense. "I mean that I've been thinking about us in a more serious way." he admitted.  He took a deep breath, his expression tentative. "I know I've been kind of hot and cold with you… and I know that I've played games in the past. But after we hooked up… I really couldn’t stop thinking about you. How different we were like that… How good it felt. So I want you to know that... I don’t want to play games with you. I want t’be serious about this."

Y/N hadn’t expected that answer. In all honesty she thought he’d reject her, say he wasn’t into it and keep it moving. That was what she was prepared for- not this. That sort of confession had her realizing that maybe she really didn’t know him at all. She knew some parts, sure, but seeing him like this was brand new. This man in front of her was a familiar stranger, at least this new side.

“I’d have to get to know you better.” She brushed her hair behind her ear, giving him a tentative look. “And it would be a little slow. I think I could give you a chance, though. I’ve been unfair to you, I think. I feel like we… kind of got off on the wrong foot.”

Harry lets out a small sigh of relief, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “I’m okay with slow.” he says, his voice sincere. “I’m willing to work for it.”

He leaned back a bit, giving her a little more space as a hint of his usual playfulness returned to his features.. “And I think you’re right… we got off on the wrong foot. But I’m glad we’re taking the time to get to know each other now.”

——-

—— 

Harry was coming over again. 

It was strange. Since they’d agreed to explore something romantic, seriously, he had changed. Not completely, not to the point where she wondered who he was before, but enough to make her soften up. Hints of him being a pain in the ass we’re still there. But he was… sweet. Genuine. A little silly in a cute way that she hadn’t allowed herself to enjoy before. 

One of the biggest shocks of all, was the fact that he was so gentle with her. He handled her with care, even if he was a little overly touchy. She was getting used to it because she found herself liking it, but he was the first guy to really be a bit of a clinger. 

That was the last thing she had ever expected from him.

His touches were soft and sweet and he looked at her with this little twinkle in his eye that she knew he couldn’t genuinely fake it. He liked her- liked her , liked her. 

She was still a bit shy with him, but it was slowly melting away each time they saw each other. Now the nerves were barely there, being overtaken by anticipation and excitement. It wasn’t something she’d ever thought would happen- being excited and antsy to see Harry, wanting him back in her house. 

He was coming over tonight and she had been prepping for a bit, primping and priming herself even though she wanted to look casual. There was never once so far that he hadn’t told her she looked gorgeous, and it had started becoming part of her daily routine. She wanted to impress him, make him say it again and mean it.

Her tummy twisted as she heard his car door slam shut, smiling to herself as she adjusted her cropped top and went towards the door. 

He was beautiful. Really, gorgeous as she opened the door to reveal him in the early evening light. He looked a little tired from work,slight bags under his eyes, but his smile melted her a little as he walked right into the house, dropping his bag in the foyer with little care for its well-being and picked her up in a big hug. Her feet dangled as she squealed, strong arms wrapped around her waist as he lifted her effortlessly. 

“Hi.” She beamed shyly, feeling him set her down on the floor.

Harry couldn’t help but grin as he placed her down, his strong arms wrapping around her waist lazily.. He loved how delicate she felt in his arms, and he loved the way she squealed with surprise as he lifted her up a bit. Really, he loved most things that had to do with her. Taking a moment to admire her cozy appearance, his gaze lingered on her cropped top. “Hi.” He replied, his voice soft and warm. “You look beautiful.”

Like clockwork.

Before she could respond, Harry was pulling her back into a hug, burying his face in her shoulder as he held her, rocking slightly. A prime example of how touchy he was, unable to stop himself. He nuzzled her neck, letting his cool nose brush against the hot skin. “I missed you.” he mumbled, his voice muffled against her, leaving a little shiver in it’s wake..

When he said things like that it made her want to giggle madly, but also melt into a puddle. He truly meant it, was the thing, and she had a hard time understanding how this had happened. How he had gone from her little enemy to the person she looked toward to seeing the most. 

“I missed you too.” She admitted, fingers tracing down his back. It was an attempt to get more open about her feelings. Harry was being candid about his own, so she felt like she could extend him the same grace. Even if it was slightly terrifying, she had no reason to hold back anymore.

Harry pulled back slightly to look at her, a soft smile on his lips at her shy admission. "I like it when you say that." he teased, his voice low.  He brought his hands up to rest on her hips, his thumbs tracing small circles on the bare skin. He loved the way the cropped top revealed just enough to make him want more, and he found himself struggling to focus on anything but the feel of her body under his hands.

Harry wanted her, and there was obvious desire for her there. In all honesty, there was a lot of desire for her in general that he had done his best to keep under wraps  He’d been so good, trying so hard to prove himself- but that didn’t mean he was a saint. He was beyond attracted to her in every sense of the word, and it was hard to ignore that..

“Excuse me.” She let her smile grow, her tone playful. “My eyes are up here.” 

Y/N knew Harry wanted her in all of the ways, and he’d been exceedingly patient. He knew she was trying to build their connection before getting intimate with him again, and she appreciated it- but that didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy knowing he desired her. 

Or that she didn’t have those same urges.

Harry's gaze flicked back up to meet hers, a cheeky grin on his face. "I know where your eyes are. I look at them plenty, do I not?" He replied smoothly, his hands still resting on her waist, giving a gentle squeeze.  He couldn't help but let out a small laugh as she shot him a look, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "But you can't expect me to ignore the rest of you when you're wearing something as distracting as that." Testing the waters, he was seeing how far his flirtation could go.

“It’s loungewear, you freak.” She scoffed, a hint of a smile turning up her lips. Leggings and a cropped top were a bit of a reward for him, though. She figured if he had been so patient with her then he could at least get to look at her. “But I’m glad you like it.” 

Taking his hand in her smaller one, she led him towards the kitchen to show him the pizza boxes and salad she had made to pair with it, feeling weirdly shy about it. That was the theme of today, considering she had come to a conclusion in her head- but he didn’t need to know about it quite yet. “I knew you’d be hungry when you got off work, so I ordered ahead.”

Harry's eyes lit up as he saw the food, warmth spreading through him. No one had been thoughtful like that to him before, but of course she would be. This sort of thing was why he had liked her. He’d seen it time and time again with their other friends and secretly wished for some of it for himself, that sort of care… and now that he got it, he felt that yearning for her get a little bit stronger. He let out a low whistle. "You knew exactly what I needed." he murmured, a grateful smile on his lips. 

Pulling her into him, his arms wrapping around her waist from behind. He nuzzled her neck again, his breath warm on her skin. "You're too good to me." he murmured, his voice showing just how grateful he was.

Y/N shivered slightly as he spoke against her skin, large arms wrapping around her and making her feel that same brand of delicacy that only Harry had been able to accomplish. His arms were just… beautiful. Built and muscular, covered in those tattoos, she loved every single thing about them. Looking at them, feeling them, how he used them… she couldn’t admit it out loud yet, but being in his arms was one of her new favorite places. 

“You texted and said you didn’t sleep well and you had a rougher day at work and… I dunno. I thought maybe you’d like something ready when you came over. I would have cooked myself but I had a workshop.” She rambled on a little bit, feeling the need to overexplain herself.

Harry squeezed her tighter, his chin resting on her shoulder. He inhaled her scent, his nose buried in hair as she spoke. 

"Mmm. " He hummed, his voice low and gravelly. He ran his nose over her throat, lips brushing against the sensitive skin. "You didn't have to do all this, you know." He moved his hands down over her hips, his thumbs tracing soft circles on the exposed skin there. "But I'm really grateful you did." He was quiet for a moment before speaking again, his grip on her tightening slightly. "Can I ask you somethin’?"

“Hm?” She replied. It was hard to focus. Sure, it would be awkward if anyone else say them just standing in her kitchen with the large man wrapped around her body, but no one else was there to judge her for indulging both herself and him in this sort of cuddle. 

Harry's body was pressed against her, a small smile on his lips. He really did enjoy this moment of quiet intimacy just as much as he enjoyed the more energetic moments where they’d go out or he’d help her take care of her garden.

"Can I stay over tonight?"

It should have been a scarier question to her, all things considered, but the answer came out of her mouth naturally. 

“Sure.” She nodded. There was no second guessing it either. “Is that what that bag was?” She realized he had brought in a bigger duffle than his usual work one, but she had thought it was maybe just to change from his work clothes.

Harry's smile grew as she agreed so easily. "Mhmm." he hummed, his voice low. His hands moved up her sides, tracing the curve of her waist. "I wanted to be prepared just in case you said yes." Presumptuous? He’d prefer the terms hopeful, even confident. They’d been doing so well, he had to at least ask.

He pulled back slightly, looking down at her with a hint of a smirk on his face. "So... where can I sleep?"

He turned her in his grip, letting her look up at his face now with narrowed eyes. Her heartbeat quickened though she tried to calm it down. He was teasing her a little bit, but he did genuinely want to know. 

“If you promise no extreme funny business… you can sleep in my bed.” She placed her hand on his bicep, squeezing a little. It was her own reward. “But remember, Harry. No sex. Okay?” Gliding her other hand up to cuff over the back of his neck, she decided it was finally time to tease him back a bit. “However… If you’re really, really nice to me… I may let you kiss me again.”

Harry's smile widened, his eyes sparkling with a hint of challenge. He leaned down, bringing his face closer to the girl’s.  "You're being bold, darling." he teased, his voice low and playful. "Are you trying to tempt me?"

“A little.” She hummed. “I like when you’re sweet to me. So if you keep it up, I’ll let you kiss me as long as you’d like tonight. I know I’ve been holding all of that intimacy hostage…” 

It had been driving him wild. Near kisses and her letting him brush his hand over the curve of her ass a few times before putting them back up to her hips, he’d tested the waters but got rejected. Now, she was loosening up a bit. 

“So.” She blinked up at him. “Are you gonna be nice to me tonight so you can kiss me?”

Harry's eyes glinted with a mixture of desire and playful mischief. He loved it when she teased him just as much as he loved it when she got all shy and flustered. Which one he likes more, he couldn’t tell. "Oh, I'll be so nice to you tonight you won't be able to stand it." he purred, his voice low and husky. 

He wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her closer until their bodies were flush against each other. "But I have one condition, little miss."

“What is that?” She questioned, unsure what it could be. With him, it could be anything.

"You have to promise me that if I'm being too... forward, you'll tell me to back off. I don't want to overstep. Even though I want to kiss you until you can't think straight. So promise me you'll speak up if I get too much." 

Her smile widened, nodding in agreement. He’d just earned himself quite a few points. Never had she expected him to be as respectful as he was, but she utterly adored it.  “I will. I promise, I’ll tell you.” She agreed, leaning up to kiss the curve of his jaw. “But it’s time for you to eat. I can feel your tummy grumbling.”

Harry let out a low chuckle, his eyes flickering over her pretty face. He loved the way her smile widened, and the feeling of her plump lips against his jaw send a shiver down his spine. More. He wanted more, and more, until their mouths were tingling and numb. Until she looked drunk on the kisses, clinging to him like he could only hope.

"Mmm. Okay, fine." he grumbled. "I'll eat. But only if you feed me, since you were so kind as to order ahead for me." He gave her a puppy-dog look, his lower lip jutted out in a mock-pout. It was good, she’s give him that- but not good enough.

“Absolutely not.” She snorted. “Nice try.”

[girliemattitude]

— - Horny Text - — M.S - —

A/N:Just a little something I wrote based on this thought I had…Hope you enjoy :)

A/N(2): This is my work please don’t steal it <3

………………………………………………………………………………….……………………

The night had started off so casually— a relaxed hangout with friends, some laughter, and just the right amount of banter to keep things interesting. Nick and Chris were in their usual goofy mode, while Matt was in the kitchen, leaning against the counter scrolling through his phone. He looked so chill and laid back that you just had to mess with him—You smirked, eyes narrowing as you typed out a message that was just a little too bold for the current setting. You knew exactly what you were doing. You hit send, leaned back into the couch, and waited, a moment later, you saw him pause, eyes fixed on his phone. His fingers stopped moving, his whole body going still as he processed the message.

“I need you so bad”

“Like I can’t stop thinking about your hands on my body, the way you can make me squirm by the slightest of touch”

His brows furrowed slightly, and then his lips parted just a bit in surprise, he swallowed hard, blinking a few times as he tried to recover. He brought a hand up to rub the back of his neck, a nervous habit you’d noticed before, and it only confirmed that you’d gotten under his skin. His eyes darted toward his brothers, making sure they were still wrapped up in their own conversation, and then back to his phone. You could see the exact moment it hit him—when the meaning behind your words sank in, you had him right where you wanted. His relaxed posture stiffened, and he gave the screen a second glance, clearly surprised by what you’d written. He thought he could play it cool, but you knew better.

Matt glanced up from his phone, you could practically see the wheels turning in his head as his eyes locked with yours, his lips twitched into a half-smile, the kind that made your stomach flip, his hand tightened around his phone as he kept his eyes on yours, letting you know he was fully in the game now.

His response came through a second later, the vibration buzzing in your pocket. You slid your phone out just enough to read it, making sure to keep your face neutral despite the heat rising in your chest.

“You serious wanna do this? You’re trying to get me all riled up or what?”

You looked down at the text, biting your lip to suppress a laugh. Of course, you were serious. That was the fun part. You glanced over at him, watching as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, still trying to compose himself, you could see the flush creeping up his neck as he waited for your response.

You didn’t leave him waiting long. Your reply was quick, direct, pushing him just a little further.

“I just really need you right now… Or maybe I just really like teasing you and seeing how you’re try to keep it together.”

Matt’s eyes flickered toward his phone again, his reaction was instant. His eyes widened, he bit his lip and he stared at his phone for a long moment, his face turning a shade darker. He ran a hand through his hair, clearly struggling to keep his cool. His eyes flicked up again, meeting yours, and this time, the look he gave you was filled with disbelief, heat, and a hint of frustration, you could tell he was barely holding it together.

His brothers and friends were still deep in their conversation, completely unaware of the silent, heated exchange happening just a few feet away from them.He brought the phone down to his side, as if distancing himself from the message would help him think straight, but the damage was done. You knew exactly what you were doing to him, and he knew it too.

His phone buzzed again in his hand…

“What if I’d tell you I’m wearing those panties you like”

You saw him glance at your text, his eyes darted back to you, and you shared a look that felt electric. There was no going back now—he was fully locked in. It felt like you and Matt were in your own little world at that moment.

He stared at you for a beat too long, his expression flickering between flustered and something much more. The tension was thick, and every time his eyes met yours, it was like a silent dare to keep going, to see just how far you could push him.

Your phone buzzed once again and you glanced down to see his reply.

“You’re playing a dangerous game.You might not feel so bold later.”

You could practically hear the challenge in his voice, even though he wasn’t speaking aloud. You glanced up at him, your eyes meeting his again, and this time it was more intense, heavy. His lips parted like he wanted to say something, but he held back, he shifted, leaning against the counter, his posture tense as he tried to ground himself. His eyes kept flicking back to his phone, then to you. He couldn’t stop himself from looking at you every few seconds, like he was waiting for you to do something—anything—that would break the fragile balance he was trying so hard to keep.

You could see his struggle clear as day. His lips parted slightly, his breathing shallow, and his fingers twitched around his phone like he was dying to send another message but didn’t trust himself to stay subtle.

Chris called out to him, bringing him back to reality, he straighten up quickly. “Are you bringing those chips or what?” his brother asked, laughing like nothing was out of the ordinary.

Matt blinked, shaking his head as if trying to clear it, he shot you a warning look before he replied to Chris “Yeah, uh, on it,” he mumbled, though his voice was a little rough, like he’d been holding his breath. He quickly grabbed the snacks and walked over to the couch, sitting down next to you, his leg brushing against yours as he did.

You could feel the heat radiating off him, his body tense even though he was trying to act casual. He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear, and whispered, “You really think you’re so slick, huh? You think you can just act like a little brat and tease me like that, with everyone around?”

Your pulse quickened at his words, you fought to keep a straight face, though the flush rising to your cheeks was impossible to hide. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye—“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said innocently, but your smirk gave you away

Matt’s eyes darkened, and you could feel the tension ratchet up between you two as he shifted even closer. His thigh pressed against yours now, the warmth of his body seeping into you, and you couldn’t help but bite your lip.

“You’re pushing it sweetheart” he whispered, his voice low and rough. His hand rested on the back of the couch behind you, his fingers brushing against your shoulder in a way that made your skin tingle. “keep this up and you’ll regret it.” The anticipation was building, and you knew he wasn’t bluffing. Your breath hitched at his words, and you felt a flush creep up your neck, but you held his gaze, refusing to back down. “Is that a threat or a promise?” Matt’s eyes darkened even further, and for a second, it felt like the entire room disappeared, the laughter and noise from the rest fading into the background as the space between you two crackled with energy. He shifted closer still, his arm now resting fully behind you, his lips just inches from your ear.

“It’s a fact,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin, making your whole body heat up in response. “You wanna keep teasing? Fine, you’ve been warned, I won’t holdback tonight.”

You suppressed a shiver, the thrill of the moment coursing through you. Matt’s hand slipped behind you, his fingers lightly grazing your back, sending another shiver down your spine. You shot him a look, raising an eyebrow, but he only grinned, his expression full of unspoken promises. He leaned in just a little more, his voice low, his lips brushing against your ear. “I’m gonna leave you so fucked out and dumbfounded, you won’t be able to handle it”, He said before he chuckled dryly.

You swallowed hard, your heart racing as your body responded to his words. The thought of what was going to happen when everyone else left, when you two were finally alone, sent a wave of anticipation through you. You could already tell that Matt wasn’t going to let this little game end easily—and neither were you.

As the night wore on, the shared glances between you and Matt grew more frequent, more charged. Every time his hand brushed against yours, every time his knee pressed against your leg, the tension between you two intensified. It was, an unspoken agreement that when the night ended and everyone else went home, things were going to get a lot more intense.

[hahaifolded]

141 x POC!GN Intelligence Operative - A Phone Call (Short Drabble) Author's Notes: I wanted to try something new. Warnings: MDNI, Angst

"What do you mean I can't transfer?" 

"Look, I think we should give it a little more time bef—“

"I think enough time has passed. They don't want me. And I refuse to work with a team who doesn’t want to work with me.”

“Again, I completely understand, but—“

“But what, Kate? I don’t get why you can’t just move me to another te—“

“BECAUSE THERE’S NO OTHER TEAM!”

…

…

“What?”

“You know how hard it was to get you on the 141. If you leave now, before the trial period is over, you’re just going to prove everyone right. That you’re difficult to work with. That you can’t do your job. That you don’t deserve to be here.” 

…

…

“But Kate… they don’t want me.”

“Do you know why? It sounded like things were fine in the beginning, so what happened?”

“Kate, if I knew, don’t you think I would have done something about it?” 

“I know John and these guys. They don’t do anything without a good reason. So tell me, can’t you think of anything? Anything you could have done?”

…

“C’mon… think. Did you give them a reason?”

“Kate, do you know something?”

“Look, I’m only telling you this because I know you didn’t mean to.”

“What?”

“Early on, John had mentioned that you tended to blur the line between work and friendship. He said they didn't necessarily mind but, and I’m not blaming you, but… maybe you... I don't know... overdid it.”

…

“Does that sound plausible?”

“And if it does… what should I do then?”

“Look, John hasn’t mentioned anything about transferring you yet so they don't completely hate you. So, if I were you, I’d stick it out for the rest of the year. Earn that offer and use it as leverage to join another team.”

“And how do I do that? If what you’re saying is true, I’m pretty sure I’m not getting that offer.”

“Go over your contract and follow it to a T.  Don’t do more, don't do less than what’s outlined there. Stop trying to be their friend and just do your job.” 

…

“Got it?”

“Yeah… got it.”

“And kid?”

“Yeah Kate?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. This field is complicated, okay? Friends are rare while co-workers are just... more reliable, so don't take it personal.”

“Mhmm.”

“Just tough it out and… I’ll keep on the lookout if anything changes or opens up, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Take care.”

“You too.”

Word Count: 406

More Thoughts - Next Thought

[eddiethebrave]

secret admirer part twenty-two

759 words

one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve thirteen fourteen fifteen sixteen seventeen eighteen nineteen twenty twenty-one

Eddie do you ever think about what you’re gonna do after high school? like how am i expected to know what i want to do with my life? i mean, i have another year to think about it but not that much can change in a year you probably wanna do something with music, right? make it big with your band and have people screaming your songs i’d go to every show if i could be your own personal groupie who knows? maybe that’s my calling p.s. have a good time at hellfire tonight i hope you win !!!!! -H

You’d think the win last night would put him in high spirits, and it did. At first. He celebrated with the guys, passed on the get together someone suggested, and drove home feeling proud. It was when he was laying in bed, though, that he started thinking. When he graduates, how often will he be able to ride a high like that? From pure accomplishment?

Steve puts on a brave face for morning practice. He doesn’t wanna drag anyone down with him. He goes through the motions of accepting congratulations and pats on the back from his peers and teachers alike all morning long. 

It only makes him think, though. 

Seriously, what comes after this? More school? Does he accept that internship at his father’s soul sucking company? Does he get a gob and jump right into adulthood?

What it really comes down to is the fact that Steve had never thought he’d have a future. Honestly. He’s getting closer and closer everyday to the next stage in his life, though. The years snuck up on him and now he has to deal with it. 

On a lesser scale, Steve doesn’t like thinking about what life will be like once Eddie graduates this coming May. How is Steve meant to tolerate this hellhole without him? Sure, he’d gone years without really noticing him, but now that he knows what it’s like to have a taste of him in his life, he doesn’t think he could go back. 

The whole thing makes his pulse quicken and sweat begin to bead at his hairline. By the time he makes it to art class, there’s a tension forming at his temples and he’s not looking forward to the headache. He doesn’t think he has it in him to act like everything’s normal. 

For once, Carol doesn’t acknowledge his foul mood. She’s too busy staring at Robin. For the portrait, of course. 

The teacher had informed them today the class is basically a free period and they can choose what to work on or what to not work on. 

Steve sits slumped over the table with his head resting on his folded arms. He kind of wishes Eddie hadn’t put the divider up and also that he had his sunglasses so he could stare at him without feeling weird about it. 

Instead, he rests his eyes and tunes into the sounds of pencil on paper surrounding him. He dozes for a while and has nearly fallen asleep when he’s awoken with a poke to his cheek. 

Steve peels his eyes open, but no one seems to be wanting his attention. There is, however, a piece of paper placed next to his left arm. 

It’s a drawing. 

A stick figure with tall swoopy hair and eerily realistic eyes. 

Steve looks to his left, only to find the culprit still hard at work with his face tucked behind the divider. 

Steve visually fills in the blank and surmises Eddie’s smile probably matches his own. 

Steve doesn’t dare fold the paper. He tucks it into the notebook he has to keep it safe. Throughout the rest of the day, he opens the book just to look at it. When he takes it home, he tapes it to a wall in his bedroom, somewhere he can always see it. 

Eddie did i ever tell you how sweet it is that your club has matching tees? i haven’t seen anyone who doesn’t do sports or the school band have a uniform but it makes sense that other clubs would, too you look good in black, don’t get me wrong, but GOD i thought i was gonna die the first time i saw yours so thanks for that also, while we’re on the subject of how hot you are,  you should wear your hair up more often p.s. sorry about the existential crisis on friday i wasn’t doing too good but i got a pick-me-up eventually <3 -H

tag list (closed)

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@dreamingtheimpossibe @plutoshelm @jaywhohasthegay @scarlet-malfoy @hotluncheddie

@dreamy-jeans137 @justdrugsformethanks @estrellami-1 @travelingtwentysomething @sleepy-steve

@wheneverfeasible @bisexual-and-broke @lil-gremlin-things @n0-1-important @xxbottlecapx

@tinyplanet95 @dannys-guilt-ridden-cockroach @theohohmoment @corvus-perplexus @hippieg1rl420

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@resident-gay-bitch @anaibis @moomkin77 @thrashbatx @salchica

@flustratedcas @ajeff855 @nerdyglassescheeseychick @pearynice @imaginary-maggie-waggie

[ponderingmoonlight]

Hello!! I hope you’re doing amazing!!! I really like your megumi works, so id like to request a fic where him and the reader have a very under cover secret relationship and yuji,nobara and gojo try to figure out why fushiguros been acting so weird. I’d love to see it! And more megumi works 🙏🏽. It’s just a request it’s totally okay if you don’t want to!! Hope you have an amazing week!! 💗💗

Okay, I probably never laughed this much while writing a fic lmao, this right here is ridiculous y'all

Keeping your relationship with Megumi a secret until you can't anymore

Pairing: Megumi x fem!reader; pure comedy friendship with Nobara and Yuji lol

Word Count: 3k

Synopsis: Megumi Fushiguro’s secret relationship with you has been going smoothly—until his friends start noticing his odd behavior. Yuji and Nobara grow suspicious, launching a hilariously relentless mission to uncover what he’s hiding, while Gojo sits back, amused by the chaos. Will the two of you finally confess?

Warnings: y'all, I almost died writing this hilarious piece of work lmao, I never praise my own work but that bonus has me rolling, if you're looking for a bandage for your broken heart there it is, fluff fluff fluff

Please let me know what you think! If this does well, I might write some more about the chaotic trio lol

You never thought keeping a secret would be this much fun.

Your relationship with Megumi started quietly, just like most things with him. There was no grand confession, no dramatic kiss in the rain. It was slow, understated, like the way shadows stretch out under the setting sun. You had been drawn into his orbit naturally, like you’d been waiting for it to happen all along.

Still, it wasn’t exactly planned. One moment you were sitting next to each other in silence, and the next you were sitting a little too close. Your fingers brushed. His eyes lingered. The air between you became charged with unspoken things, and soon enough, stolen moments were the only thing keeping you sane. The decision to keep it quiet came easily: neither of you had any desire to deal with the chaos that would break out if anyone found out. And besides, it was kind of thrilling.

But now it’s starting to get tricky.

It’s a normal Wednesday when the subtle shift in the atmosphere begins. Megumi is acting just a little too normal - stiffer, as if he’s hyper-aware of everything. He’s not good at this, at pretending everything is fine when there’s something simmering underneath. And unfortunately, it doesn’t take long for his odd behavior to catch some unwanted attention.

“Hey, Megumi,” Yuji calls from across the room, his eyes squinting suspiciously.

“You’re acting weird. Are you okay?”

Megumi doesn’t even flinch, though his eyes are literally glued to the ground.

“I’m fine.”

That’s it. Flat, simple, closed. He’s good at short answers. It should be enough. It’s not.

Yuji leans over the back of the couch, brow furrowed in confusion.

“No, you’re definitely acting off. You haven’t been sarcastic all morning. And usually by now, you’ve threatened to hit me at least twice.”

Megumi sighs, fingers twitching in his lap, the only outward sign of his discomfort.

“I’m fine, Yuji. Maybe you’re just imagining things.”

Yuji is definitely not convinced. He glances at Nobara, who’s lounging nearby with her arms crossed, already suspicious. She had been eyeing Megumi the second he walked in, catching onto his strange energy faster than Yuji had.

“Yeah, I’ve noticed it too,” she adds, voice sharp.

“Something’s up. You’ve been... I don’t know, distracted?”

“Seriously, I’m—” Megumi starts, but Nobara cuts him off, grinning.

“You’re not hiding anything from us, are you, Fushiguro?” Her eyes gleam with mischief, and you can tell she’s just playing around.

For now.

“Oh, I think I know it!”, Yuji suddenly announces with his arms stretched in the air.

“Do you really, idiot?”, Nobara remarks.

You almost lose your cool, cold sweat dripping down your neck while waiting for Yuji’s next words. He didn’t catch it, did he? Not when you’ve been carefully avoiding being too close to Megumi while they’re around since you first joined Jujutsu High. He simply can’t know it-

Megumi’s eyes flick to you, a barely noticeable glance paired with his reddened cheeks, but it’s enough. Too much. Your heart skips in your chest, and you quickly look away, hoping no one else caught it. But then-

“Oh.” Yuji’s eyes widen in realization, a slow grin spreading across his face.

“Oh, I get it now.”

Megumi’s spine visibly stiffens.

“No, you don’t.”

But it’s too late. Yuji has already decided he’s figured it out.

“You’ve got a crush on someone, don’t you?” Yuji practically shouts, leaning forward in his seat with excitement.

“That’s why you’ve been all weird lately!”

Nobara sits up, clearly intrigued by this new development. “Wait, what? Megumi has a crush?”

“I do not,” Megumi says, but he’s starting to lose his calm now.

You can tell by the way his hand runs through his hair a little too harshly, as if he’s trying to ground himself.

You bite back a smile. Megumi can be as composed as he wants, but when it comes to things like this, he’s terrible at hiding it.

“You’re totally lying,” Nobara declares, standing up and crossing the room to get a better look at him.

“Who is it? Do we know them?”

Megumi groans, pressing his fingers to his temples as if he’s already getting a headache. You’re trying hard not to laugh because if you do, they’ll turn their attention to you. You’ve been careful this whole time to stay out of the line of fire, just a silent observer to this chaos.

But you know it’s only a matter of time.

“I’m not lying,” Megumi grumbles, clearly regretting every decision that led him to this point. “There’s no one.”

It’s almost convincing. Almost.

Yuji leans back, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“Nah, you’re definitely lying. You’re terrible at it. You get all tense, like right now.”

“I’m always tense,” Megumi shoots back.

“True,” Nobara agrees,

“but this is different. You’re acting sketchy.”

Megumi shoots her a flat look, but Nobara only smirks back. She’s having way too much fun with this.

“Is it the one we’ve met at that pizza place yesterday, the one with a big ass and those nice hair?”, Yuji shouts into the conversation.

“The girl from yesterday?”, you repeat before you can stop yourself, arms crossing in front of your tightening chest.

“You guys are gross.”

Megumi’s gaze meets yours, panic shimmering underneath the surface while he fumbles with his own hands.

“What? No! It’s not that one!”

“Oh, not that one, huh? Who is it, then?”

“Fine,” Megumi says, standing abruptly.

“I’m going for a walk.”

Before they can say another word, he stalks out of the room, leaving you alone with Yuji and Nobara. You let out a quiet breath of relief, grateful they didn’t notice you.

Yuji turns to Nobara, eyes wide.

“This is huge. Megumi’s got a crush.”

Nobara hums thoughtfully, rubbing her chin.

“He’s never shown any interest in anyone before. It must be serious.”

“I wonder who it is,” Yuji muses, glancing around the room as if expecting the answer to jump out at him.

Your pulse quickens. If you stay here any longer, you’re going to blow your cover.

“I’m gonna grab some water,” you announce quickly, standing up.

You manage to make it halfway to the kitchen before Nobara’s voice calls after you, filled with sudden realization.

“Wait a minute. You were with him all morning, weren’t you?”

You freeze, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Weren’t you two on a mission yesterday?” Yuji adds, piecing it together far too quickly for your liking.

“And last weekend, too?”

Panic rises in your throat, but you manage to keep your expression neutral when you turn back to face them.

“We’ve just been on a few missions together. That’s all” you say, voice steady.

Nobara narrows her eyes, scrutinizing you.

“Uh-huh. And you didn’t notice him acting weird?”

“Not really. Maybe he’s just worn-out” you lie, doing your best to stay calm.

Yuji tilts his head, still unconvinced but willing to drop it for now.

“Yeah, maybe.”

But Nobara isn’t so easily swayed.

“You sure? Because you’re looking a little-”

“Nobara,” you interrupt,

“you’re overthinking it.”

For a moment, there’s silence. Then, with a final hum of suspicion, she shrugs and lets it go.

But just as you think you’re in the clear, a new voice cuts through the tension.

“Well, well, what do we have here?”

Gojo saunters in, sunglasses perched lazily on his nose, a knowing smirk already playing on his lips. He must have been eavesdropping because he’s grinning like he’s just hit the jackpot.

“Don’t tell me you’re trying to figure out what’s up with Megumi,” he notes, voice dripping with amusement.

“That kid’s an enigma even to himself.”

Yuji perks up at the sight of Gojo, excited to rope someone else into their investigation.

“We think he’s got a crush.”

Gojo pauses, grin widening.

 “Oh, is that so?”

You stand frozen in place as Gojo’s eyes slowly slide over to you, lingering for a beat too long. He knows. You don’t know how he knows, but he knows. He’s always been good at reading between the lines, picking up on things that most people miss. Megumi that traitor, did he really leave you all alone with these two and now even Gojo?

His smirk deepens.

“Well, well, well,” he drawls, leaning casually against the wall, clearly enjoying this far too much.

“I wonder who it could be.”

You’re going to kill Megumi. You’re both dead. This is it. The end of your secret.

But before Gojo can say anything else, Megumi walks back into the room, his expression darkening as he notices Gojo’s presence.

“What are you doing here?” Megumi asks, his voice flat.

“Oh, just catching up with the kids. They were telling me about your little crush” Gojo replies innocently.

Megumi’s eyes dart between you, Yuji, Nobara, and Gojo, clearly calculating his next move.

“There’s no crush,” he replies, exasperation creeping into his voice again.

“Yuji’s just being an idiot.”

“Hey!” Yuji protests, but Megumi ignores him.

Gojo chuckles, pushing off the wall with an exaggerated stretch.

“Well, I think I’ll let you all handle this. Good luck with the investigation.”

He winks in your direction before sauntering out of the room, leaving you tense and trying to avoid Megumi’s gaze.

Yuji and Nobara are still watching him, and you can tell they’re not going to let this go anytime soon.

“So,” Nobara says, crossing her arms. “Are you going to tell us who it is, or are we going to have to follow you around until we figure it out?”

Megumi pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly fed up. “There’s no one.”

“You’re such a bad liar,” Yuji mutters, shaking his head.

Megumi’s about to respond, but then his phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out, glances at the screen, and his expression softens for just a split second before he tucks it away again.

You know who it is. He knows you know.

You’re barely holding back your laughter at this point, trying to keep a straight face. You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks, and you have to look away before anyone else notices.

But Megumi, in his ever-stubborn way, is still trying to salvage this mess.

“I’m going for another walk,” he announces abruptly, clearly done with this interrogation.

“Uh-huh,” Nobara calls after him, grinning like a cat who just caught a mouse.

“Sure, go clear your head, lover boy.”

You can’t help but chuckle quietly as Megumi shoots you a helpless look before heading out the door.

As soon as he’s gone, Yuji leans over to Nobara, whispering loudly.

“Do you think he’s texting his crush?”

Nobara grins, leaning back in her chair.

“Definitely.”

You bite your lip, doing your best to keep your composure while peeking at your phone.

Sorry for the mess. Meet me later in my dorm?

This is going to get much harder to hide.

Later that night, when you and Megumi finally have a moment to yourselves at his dorm, he sighs heavily, dropping down onto the couch beside you. He looks exhausted, and not just from the missions. The day’s events have clearly taken their toll.

“This is getting ridiculous,” he mutters, rubbing his temples.

You smile softly, leaning into his side.

“It’s kind of your fault, you know.”

Megumi groans.

“I know.”

There’s a moment of silence as you both sit there, the weight of your secret relationship pressing down on you. But it’s not a bad weight. It’s more like a blanket, warm and comforting, something shared between the two of you. Something that’s just yours.

Still, you can’t help but tease him.

“You’re really bad at lying.”

Megumi turns his head to look at you, a small, exasperated smile pulling at his lips.

“Shut up.”

You laugh quietly, resting your head on his shoulder, feeling the tension melt away as his hand finds yours, fingers intertwining. For now, it’s just the two of you, and that’s all that matters.

“Maybe we should tell them,” you suggest softly, half-joking.

Megumi’s body stiffens for a second, but then he relaxes, a soft hum escaping his throat.

“Maybe,” he murmurs, voice low.

“But not yet.”

You smile, content with the secrecy for now. It’s your little world, and as chaotic as it is, it’s yours to navigate together.

And for now, that’s enough.

Bonus:

The decision to finally tell them wasn’t exactly well-planned. In fact, it wasn’t planned at all.

It happened after another long day of training. Yuji had been particularly insufferable, constantly pestering Megumi about his “mystery crush,” while Nobara was fuming over how Megumi wouldn’t let her in on the secret.

You and Megumi exchanged looks all day, the unspoken question hanging between you both: Should we just tell them?

By the time the sun set and everyone was lounging in the common area, the atmosphere was thick with anticipation. Nobara was pacing the room, practically radiating with frustration, while Yuji sat on the edge of the couch, watching Megumi like a hawk.

You were sitting next to Megumi, trying not to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. You hadn’t expected the pressure to mount like this. They’d been relentless for days now.

“Okay, I’m done!”

Nobara throws her hands in the air, eyes narrowing at Megumi.

“I can’t take it anymore! You have to tell us. Who is it?”

Yuji nods rapidly, his eyes wide and pleading.

“Please, man, just tell us! The suspense is killing me.”

Megumi lets out a long, exasperated sigh. He’s been handling this for a week now, and it’s clearly taken its toll. He shoots you a quick, sideways glance, silently asking for your input.

You shrug with a small smile, mouthing.

“Your call.”

With another sigh, Megumi straightens up and clears his throat.

“Fine,” he says, his voice firm.

“I’ll tell you.”

Both Nobara and Yuji freeze, their eyes going wide with excitement.

“Finally!” Nobara yells, nearly vibrating with impatience.

“Okay, okay. Who is it? Is it someone we know?” Yuji questions, leaning in closer.

Megumi looks at you again, and you give him a reassuring nod.

Then, with a small smirk tugging at his lips, Megumi casually slips his hand into yours, right there in front of them.

At first, there’s silence. Complete, deafening silence.

Yuji’s mouth falls open, eyes flicking between your joined hands and your faces, his brain clearly short-circuiting.

Nobara, on the other hand, just stares. Blinks. Then her hands slowly rise to cover her mouth, her eyes growing impossibly wide.

“Wait—” Yuji finally speaks, voice squeaking a little.

“YOU—YOU AND—”

Megumi sighs.

“Yeah. Me and (y/n). We’ve been dating for a while now.”

That’s when all hell breaks loose.

“WHAT?!” Yuji practically screams, jumping up from the couch and pointing at your intertwined hands like they’re some sort of mythical creature.

“NO WAY! This whole time? You guys were dating this whole time?!”

Nobara just starts shrieking incoherently. It’s a mix of disbelief and outrage, her voice a high-pitched wail as she dramatically collapses onto the couch like she’s been personally betrayed.

“YOU HID THIS FROM US?!” she yells, clutching a pillow like it’s the only thing keeping her grounded.

“HOW COULD YOU?! I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS!”

You burst out laughing, unable to keep it in any longer. Megumi pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly regretting every choice that led to this moment.

Yuji is pacing now, running his hands through his hair, still trying to process everything.

“How did I not see it? I mean, I thought you had a crush, but I didn’t think it was… this!” he gestures wildly between the two of you, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Oh my God!” Nobara yells again, standing up suddenly.

“This is insane! You’ve been sneaking around this whole time? That’s it. I demand details! Right now. How long has this been going on?”

“Yeah!” Yuji chimes in, pointing accusingly at Megumi.

“How did you manage to keep this a secret from me of all people?”

You laugh again, raising your hands in surrender.

“Okay, okay, calm down! It’s been a few months. We just didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

“A few months?” Nobara shrieks, grabbing Yuji’s arm like she needs to hold onto something before she passes out.

“That’s practically a year in relationship time! How did you keep this from us? I’m so offended right now.”

“I knew you were acting weird!” Yuji exclaims, throwing his hands in the air.

“All those times you disappeared, Megumi! I knew something was up!”

Megumi groans, running a hand through his hair.

“You guys are overreacting.”

“Overreacting? This is the most exciting thing that’s happened all year and you hid it from us! You’re for the streets, Fushiguro!” Nobara echoes, voice high-pitched with disbelief.

Yuji nods, agreeing way too quickly.

“Yeah, we need details. Dates, first kiss, how did it start, everything.”

Before you can answer, a familiar voice interrupts the chaos.

“Oh, you guys are just figuring this out now?”

You all turn to see Gojo leaning casually against the doorway, a smug grin plastered on his face, arms crossed like he’s been watching this unfold for a while.

“What?” Nobara screeches again.

“YOU KNEW?!”

Gojo shrugs like it’s no big deal.

“Obviously. It wasn’t exactly hard to figure out.”

Yuji’s jaw drops to the floor.

“You didn’t tell us?”

Gojo tilts his head, grinning.

“And ruin the fun of watching you two idiots freak out? Why would I do that?”

Nobara looks like she’s about to combust.

“So, you just let us suffer, while you were sitting there knowing the whole time?!”

Gojo shrugs again, completely unbothered.

“You’re welcome.”

Yuji groans, dramatically flopping onto the couch beside Nobara.

“I can’t believe this. I feel so betrayed.”

Nobara crosses her arms, huffing.

“Yeah, same. This is worse than the time Yuji ate my fries.”

“Hey, that was an accident!” Yuji protests.

Nobara glares at him.

“It was not an accident.”

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[thewrstinme]

“You want to act like a brat? Then I’ll treat you like one.”

summary. you’d been pissing noah off all night before his performance, taunting him right before he had to go on stage. what you forgot is that the tour bus would be empty for the night, leaving him alone with you to dish out punishments for your behaviour.

TW. 18+ mdni mean!noah. punishment but it’s rlly just smut. brat taming. hair pulling, choking if you squint. aftercare ofc. degrading. lmk if i missed any!

As soon as the two of you step into the tour bus, the door barely closes behind you before Noah grabs you by the waist, spins you around, and pushes you roughly against the sofa. The suddenness takes your breath away, but the tension that’s been building between you all night finally snaps. His body pins yours down, chest to chest, and his eyes flash with something dark and dangerous.

“Think you’re funny, don’t you?” he growls, his hand already gripping the back of your neck, holding you in place. “Bratty little act all night, teasing me in front of everyone like I wouldn’t do something about it?”

Before you can respond, he forces you down into the cushions, leaning in close so his breath is hot against your ear. His hands roam your body with a kind of restrained violence, fingers gripping hard as he pulls you tighter against him. His lips brush your neck, his voice dripping with mockery.

“You’ve been asking for this, haven’t you?” His hand slides down to your hip, squeezing hard, as he presses himself firmly against you, making sure you can feel every inch of how much you’ve wound him up. “Thought I’d just let it slide? After everything you pulled tonight?”

You open your mouth to retort, but he’s quicker. His hand is suddenly at your throat, not choking but keeping you still as he smirks down at you. “Not so talkative now, are you?” he taunts, his thumb brushing along your jawline before squeezing just enough to make your breath hitch. His eyes glint with amusement as he watches you squirm, clearly relishing in the control he has over you.

His lips crash against yours without warning, rough and punishing, like he’s trying to prove a point. His teeth nip at your bottom lip, tugging hard enough to make you whimper. He chuckles darkly against your mouth, pulling away just enough to look you in the eyes.

“You want to act like a brat? Then I’ll treat you like one.”

Noah’s grip on your throat tightens slightly, just enough to keep you in place as his free hand moves lower, grabbing your waist and pulling your body flush against his. The heat between you is immediate, and you can feel how much restraint he’s been holding back all night. His lips brush yours again, but he pulls back just before you can deepen the kiss, a mocking grin spreading across his face.

“Oh, you want it now, don’t you?” he teases, his voice dripping with arrogance. “Too bad. You’ll get it when I say so.”

He shifts his weight, pressing you harder into the sofa, his knee wedging between your thighs, making it impossible for you to move. You try to push against him, but he doesn’t budge, his eyes daring you to try again. When you do, his hand tightens its grip on your waist, fingers digging in painfully, and he leans down, lips hovering over your ear.

“You’ve been teasing me all night,” he growls, his voice low and dangerous. “Rubbing up against me backstage, giving me those bratty little looks in front of everyone. You think I wouldn’t notice? Think I wouldn’t do something about it?”

His teeth graze the sensitive skin of your neck, biting down just hard enough to send a sharp jolt of pain mixed with pleasure. You can’t help the small moan that escapes your lips, and that only makes his smirk grow wider.

“See? You like it rough, don’t you? Couldn’t just behave, had to push me.” He pulls back slightly, his eyes dark with desire as he watches you squirm beneath him. “Now you’re gonna pay for it.”

With one swift motion, Noah yanks your shirt up over your head, tossing it aside carelessly. His eyes rake over your body, the intensity of his gaze sending a thrill through you. His hand moves from your waist to your chest, fingers curling around the fabric of your bra as he tugs it down roughly, exposing you completely to him.

“Look at you,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, his voice low and rough. “So fucking gorgeous.”

Before you can say anything, his mouth is on you, lips and teeth leaving a trail of bruises down your neck and chest. His touch is anything but gentle, every movement designed to remind you who’s in control. His hand slides up your thigh, fingers digging into your skin as he teases the edge of your skirt, but he doesn’t go any further. Not yet.

He pulls back, just enough to look at you again, that wicked smirk still playing on his lips as he takes in the sight of you beneath him. His hands grip your hips, holding you firmly in place as he leans down, his lips brushing against your ear.

“Tell me,” he murmurs, his voice dark and commanding, “was it worth it? Being a little brat all night? Do you like how this feels?”

You can barely form words, your mind clouded with the heat of the moment, but that’s exactly what he wants. Noah’s grip on you tightens, and he chuckles lowly as he sees the effect he’s having on you.

A small part of you wants to fight back, to prove that you’re not completely at his mercy, but the rest of you is lost to the sensations he’s igniting in your body. His eyes are dark, filled with a hunger that makes your pulse race.

“I asked you a question,” he says, his voice harsh and demanding. He tugs at your hair, forcing your head back, making you look at him. “Answer me.”

“I-I-“

Noah sneers at your stammering response, clearly unimpressed. “Is that all you’ve got?” he mocks, his tone dripping with derision. “A simple question and you can’t even form a proper answer?”

He tightens his grip on your hair, pulling your head back further, making you gasp as a sharp jolt of pain courses through you. “Look at you,” he continues, his voice a low growl. “Such a mess when you’re like this. So desperate and needy.”

The heat in his gaze only amplifies your confusion, the thrill of submission battling with your instinct to resist.

“You’re pathetic,” he says, his words biting and cruel. “Can’t even control yourself when I’m around. Pathetic and desperate.” His hand tightens around your hair again, pulling harder, making you whimper at the pain. “You like this, don’t you?” he sneers, his tone rough and dominant. “Being at my mercy, at my command. You never had a chance of resisting.”

The way he looks at you, the intensity in his eyes, makes your heart race, and despite the humiliation, a thrill courses through you. You’re caught in the exhilarating mix of pain and pleasure, knowing he’s right—even if it stings to admit it. He sees the shift in your expression, the reluctant acknowledgment of what he’s saying, and his smirk widens. He chuckles lowly, his fingers tightening in your hair, pulling you closer to him.

Noah’s smirk turns into a condescending sneer as he looks down at you, his gaze filled with mockery. “Look at you, desperate little thing,” he mocks, his voice dripping with scorn. “So needy for me, can’t even control yourself.”

He leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “What’s the matter? Can’t handle the truth?” His laughter is low and mocking, sending a shiver through you. “You’re a mess, and you love every second of it.”

With a rough tug, he pulls your head back, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You think you can hide it? I can see how much you crave this. How much you want to be at my mercy.” His fingers dig deeper into your scalp, and you can’t help but let out another whimper.

“Pathetic,” he repeats, letting the word linger in the air. “You think you’re tough, but look at you now—completely undone.” He takes a moment to drink in the sight of you, reveling in your vulnerability. “I bet you’d do anything for just a little more, wouldn’t you?”

You can feel the heat creeping up your cheeks, embarrassment mixing with something more intoxicating. The way he’s mocking you only heightens your need, and Noah knows it. He leans closer, his lips brushing against your skin as he whispers, “Just admit it—you love being my little brat.”

Each word is a taunt, a reminder of how completely he’s got you wrapped around his finger, and you can’t deny the thrill that comes with it.

As he pulls your head back further, forcing you to look at him directly, you feel a mix of humiliation and excitement coursing through you. His gaze is intense, filled with mockery and disdain, but it only serves to fuel your yearning. You want to resist, to prove that you aren’t as desperate as he thinks, but the way he’s talking to you, the way he’s dominating you, it’s impossible to deny the truth.

Every time he mocks you, every time he calls you pathetic, it cuts through you, but it also ignites a fire inside you that you can’t deny. You’re torn between the desire to fight back and the need to submit, to give him what he wants. “I-I’m not,” you breathe out, trying to sound defiant, but your voice betrays you, quivering with vulnerability.

Noah laughs at your weak attempt to resist, the sound rough and condescending. “Oh, you’re not?” he sneers, his tone dripping with mockery. “Is that right?”

His fingers tighten in your hair, pulling harder, making you gasp and wince from the pain. “You’re not desperate. You’re not needy. You’re not falling apart right now at my mercy.” His voice is laced with derision, mocking your words with sarcasm.

He leans in closer, his lips almost touching your ear, and his voice is a low, taunting whisper. “Pathetic little thing. Can’t even be honest with yourself. Look at you, trying so hard to prove you’re not helpless.”

The way he emphasizes “pathetic” sends a jolt through you, and you find yourself wanting to squirm under his grip. It’s infuriating and intoxicating all at once. You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, the shame mixing with a thrill that only he can provoke.

“Admit it,” he continues, his voice a seductive growl. “You love being like this. You crave it. You want me to take control.” He releases your hair just enough for you to breathe but keeps you close, his eyes locked onto yours, challenging you to deny it.

Your heart races as the truth hangs heavy in the air, and the fight in you wanes. “Maybe…” you start, but the word barely escapes your lips, filled with uncertainty.

“Maybe?” he scoffs, tilting his head, a condescending grin spreading across his face. “You can do better than that. I want to hear you say it.”

There’s a dangerous glint in his eyes, and you realize he’s not going to let you off easy. The thrill of submission floods through you, and with a shaky breath, you find yourself on the edge of surrender.

You can feel your resistance unraveling, the fight in you slowly giving way to submission. It’s embarrassing, knowing how much power he has over you, and yet you can’t deny the rush it gives you.

“Please,” you say, your voice a shaky whisper, and you can feel the heat of embarrassment on your cheeks. He’s watching you intently, waiting for another response. He wants to hear you say it, to admit how much you need him, but you’re struggling with the words.

He smirks at your response, knowing you’re holding back. “Please, what, doll?” he mocks, his tone condescending and taunting. “Use your words. Tell me what you want.”

You’re practically trembling with a mix of humiliation and desire. You need to say it, to acknowledge your own neediness, but the words catch in your throat. It’s so shameful, yet the thought of submitting to him, of being completely at his mercy, makes your heart race even faster.

Noah can see the conflict etched on your face, and his smirk only widens. He knows you’re on the verge of admitting it, but he’s not going to make it easy for you. He wants you to crawl, to beg. “Come on, little one,” he mocks, his voice a low and seductive purr. “Say it.”

You’re so torn. You want to resist, to fight back and prove him wrong, but at the same time, you know deep down that you crave this. Need this. The words are on the tip of your tongue, the truth of your submissive nature right there, but it’s still hard to admit aloud. You look at him, the heat in your cheeks making you feel exposed, and a small whimper escapes your lips. “I-I…I want…”

He leans forward, his breath hot on your skin as he mocks you. “You want what?” he eggs you on, his voice rough and commanding. “Come on, use your words. Don’t be shy now. Tell me exactly what you need.”

The heat in your cheeks intensifies, and the shame and excitement mix, creating a potent cocktail that makes your head spin. “I…I need you,” you whisper, the words shaky and laced with embarrassment. “I need you to take control.” The confession hangs in the air, the truth of your submission exposed, and you can feel it in your bones, the way your body responds to his dominance.

Noah's smirk widens as he hears the words he's been waiting for. He sees the mixture of surrender and humiliation in your eyes, and it only fuels his desire for control. He lets out a low, mocking chuckle before pulling you closer. “There it is,” he says, his voice rough and taunting. “That wasn’t so hard, was it, pretty girl?”

You shiver at the tone in his voice, the realization that he has you completely at his mercy. The mixture of emotions swirling inside you is a heady cocktail of shame, excitement, and an undeniable need for more. You can feel the heat of his presence as he pulls you closer, his mockery and mockery only fueling the fire within you.

With a smug smirk, Noah holds you close, almost tenderly, his touch so different from moments before. “Poor thing,” he coos, his voice dripping with mock comfort. “All worked up and needy. Is that what you wanted, princess?”

The gentle tone catches you off guard, his touch sending a shiver through you. “N-no…I didn’t-“ you stutter, but your weak protest is obvious.

“Shhh,” he hushes, still holding you tight. “Don’t lie to me now. We both know the truth.” He lets his hand trail down your back, his touch so gentle and deceivingly comforting.

His eyes are locked on yours, watching your every reaction. He’s playing with you, and you both know it. The way he’s holding you, the touch of his hand against your back, it’s like a cruel game. You can feel the heat in your cheeks, the shame and excitement mixing into a dangerous cocktail.

“I wasn’t-“ you try to protest again, but the words die in your throat as you meet his gaze. He’s watching you, like a predator sizing up its prey, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

Noah continues the charade, his voice dripping with false concern. “It’s alright, sweetheart,” he coos, his other hand coming up to caress your face. “You don’t need to lie to me.” He looks at you, his gaze intense, searching. He knows he’s got you, knows you have nowhere to hide. “Just tell me the truth,” he murmurs, his thumb tracing your bottom lip. “Did you do it on purpose?”

The softness of his touch, the way he’s holding you, it’s maddening, drawing you in. You want to deny it, want to push back against the tidal wave of desire and submission that’s washing over you.

“I-“ you start, but the words fail you, caught in the storm of your conflicted emotions. It’s all so confusing, his sweetness and his mockery mixing together in a dangerous, intoxicating cocktail. “Yes…” you eventually force out, your voice a hushed whisper.

Noah's eyes darken, and his grip on you tightens slightly. There it is, the moment he’s been waiting for. He knew you did it on purpose, and now he has you admitting it out loud. “Good girl,” he drawls, his voice suddenly rougher, more commanding. “At least you can admit what a desperate little thing you are.”

The change in his tone hits you like a punch to the stomach. The switch is so sudden, so stark, it takes you completely off guard. You’re still reeling, trying to process the swift shift, but he’s already moving on.

His mockery cuts through you, a cold reminder of your exposed vulnerability. “You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” he mocks, his hand moving down to firmly grip your chin, forcing you to look directly at him. “Needy and shameless, you just had to push me, didn’t you?”

Tears well up in your eyes, your bottom lip quivering as you look up at him with wide, tearful eyes. You feel small and vulnerable under his intense gaze, and the shame and excitement mix in your stomach, creating a powerful mixture of longing and trepidation.

“Oh, look at you,” he purrs, a predatory smile spreading across his face. “All big eyes and teary. But don’t think you’re going to get off easy just because you look pretty when you cry."

His eyes dark and dangerous, he leans in closer, the heat of his body pressing against yours. “You teased me back there, made me all worked up, and then you lied to me about it. Did you think I was just going to let you get away with that?”

"P-please...I'm sorry...I didn't...I won't do it again...I-“ You're a mess of blubbery whines and stuttered apologies, the tears flowing freely down your cheeks. It's humiliating, being so small and defenseless under his gaze, and yet you can't deny the submissive thrill of it all.

He holds you tight, his hand still on your chin, forcing you to look up at him. There’s a smirk on his face, a look of victory, as he mock-comforts you. “There, there, little one,” he says, his voice dripping with condescension. “I know you didn’t mean it. You’re just a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

The way he’s talking to you, coddling you like a child, it’s infuriating but it only makes the heat in your stomach burn hotter. You want to protest, to defend yourself, but the tears and blubbering make you weaker than ever, and you know he’s enjoying every minute of it.

“Oh, sweet girl, don’t cry,” he mocks, his voice deceptively gentle. “But maybe I should teach you a lesson. Wouldn’t that be fair, to show you what happens when you tease me like that?”

The threat in those words sends a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and excitement twisting in your gut. You’re too vulnerable like this, and you know he’s going to exploit it to the fullest.

“Is that what you want, doll?” he coos, his fingers loosening their grip just enough to let a tear slide down your cheek. “You want me to show you what happens when you drive me crazy like that, when you push and push until I snap?”

You whimper lowly, unable to form a coherent response as you blink up at him through a haze of tears. Maybe you do want it, crave it even, the thought of being completely at his mercy both terrifying and thrilling.

His smirk widens at your helpless response, the realization that he has you completely under his sway. “That’s what I thought,” he says, his voice now deeper, darker. “You’re just begging for someone to put you in your place, aren’t you, pretty little thing?”

The condescension in his tone only serves to make you weaker, and you let out a soft, pathetic whine, your body trembling under his gaze. “I’ll be good, I swear,” you manage to whisper, your voice hoarse from crying. He chuckles darkly, his eyes boring into yours. “Oh, I know you will be,” he says, his voice low and dangerous. “But it’s a little late for that now, isn’t it?”

With an effortless display of strength, he pushes you back against the sofa, pinning you in place with his body. His hand leaves your chin to trail down your throat, his touch like a caress and a threat all at once. “I told you not to tease me,” he murmurs, his breath hot on your skin. “But you just had to do it, didn’t you? Had to test my patience, to see how far you could push me.”

You're a mess, a whiny blabbering mess, and you struggle to control the sounds of helplessness that leave your mouth. The words "I'm sorry" and "please" and "I didn't mean to" mix with pathetic sobs and moans, each one more pitiful than the last. You can't even look up at him, so you just keep repeating those words, desperate to make him see that you regret disobeying him. The tears won’t stop, and the shame of your behavior, the pleading and begging, only makes them stream faster. You’re completely at his mercy, a vulnerable, fragile thing that he can mold however he sees fit. It’s mortifying, and yet somehow exciting, the knowledge that he has this power over you, that he can bring you to this point of surrender.

"Don’t cry, doll," he murmurs, his hand moving back to your chin to force you to look up at him. "Just listen. Just take it like a good girl." His voice is rough, not quite mocking or gentle. It’s something else, something possessive and dominant, that makes your stomach twist in knots. “You brought this on yourself,” he continues, his gaze intense. “You had to push and push until I couldn’t take it anymore. I warned you, didn’t I?”

You nod helplessly, the tears still falling, your voice reduced to little more than a broken whisper. "I-I'm sorry," you repeat, your words punctuated by sniffles. You're completely overwhelmed, the mixture of shame and desire leaving you a shaking, blabbering mess.

His hand tightens on your chin, his gaze narrowing. He enjoys seeing you like this, so low and vulnerable, reduced to a puddle of tears and apologies. “I know you’re sorry,” he says, his voice a low rumble. “But I’m not sure it’s enough, pretty girl. I think you need a bit more of a lesson.”

Your eyes widen at his words, the realization that he’s not going to let this go, that he’s going to push you further than you’ve ever gone before. You open your mouth to speak, more apologies on your lips, but he cuts you off, his grip on your chin tightening.

“Shhh,” he hisses, his voice mocking and cruel. “No more excuses. You’ve already begged enough, angel. Take it like a good little girl.”

The humiliation is overwhelming, the way he’s holding you, the condescension in his voice. “Please…” you whimper, the word escaping before you can stop it. “I can’t…I’m sorry…”

He scoffs at your plea, his grip on your chin growing tighter. “I don’t care,” he snaps, his voice cold and dismissive. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? To be pushed, to be broken down until you’re a whimpering mess under my hands?” You nod helplessly, unable to deny the truth of his words. You had wanted this, craved it even, and now you’re getting your lesson, whether you’re ready or not. He smirks, satisfied with your response. “That’s what I thought,” he says, his tone cruel. “Now be a good little girl and take it.”

Your words are caught in your throat, but you can only nod again, your body trembling with a mixture of shame and desire. You know he’s not going to stop, that he’s going to push you to your limits and then some.

His hand moves from your chin to your hip, his fingers finding the edge of your skirt. He tugs at it teasingly, a cruel smile playing on his lips. “No panties, huh? Dirty girl. You’ve been planning this, haven’t you?” His hand moves around to your behind, squeezing it roughly before he slips his fingers under the hem, touching your bare skin.

“No wonder you’ve been so needy and pathetic, doll. You’ve been waiting for hours for this, just hoping I’d pin you down and give you what you need, yeah? But you had to push my buttons and misbehave, didn’t you?”

His voice is firm, his fingers still digging into your flesh. “You couldn’t just wait like a good little girl. No, you had to be bad, pushing and pushing until I finally snap.”

The feeling of his hand on your bare skin makes you shiver, and a pathetic whine leaves your lips as the tears continue to fall. “I-I’m sorry,” you stammer, your voice weak and broken. “I didn’t mean to…sorry, please I didn’t, I’m sorry.”

He silences you with one look, his fingers gripping your chin again. “I told you to stop apologizing,” he snaps, his tone harsh. “You’re not going to sweet-talk your way out of this one, little one.” The command in his voice makes you weak, the fear and shame mixing with the longing in your stomach.

You nod as best you can, trying to communicate your understanding through the tears. “Please,” you whisper, so soft it’s not even a word, more like a pitiful whine. His grip on your chin tightens, his eyes narrowing. “What was that?” he says, his voice soft and dangerous. “Speak up, angel, unless you want me to punish you for mouthing off too.”

You shake your head wordlessly, your eyes wide and pleading, begging him to understand that you only want to please him. “No, no, I’m sorry,” you manage to gasp out, your voice weak but sincere. “Please, I’ll be quiet.”

He sighs, the sound both annoyed and exasperated. Your pleas and apologies are irritating him, and he’s done with the tears and blubbering. “Enough,” he barks, his fingers releasing your chin. “Bend over. Now. Against the sofa.”

The command is sharp and authoritative, and you know better than to disobey. You shuffle around awkwardly, your heart racing as you bend forward, your hands gripping the back of the sofa. The position feels vulnerable, exposing, and your back is arching in anticipation.

“That’s it, doll,” Noah says, his voice gruff. “Good girl. Stay right there. Keep that pretty little ass up for me.” You hear him moving behind you, the sound of rustling fabric and something clinking. The sound of his belt undoing is unmistakable, the leather sliding through the loops with a harsh sound. It makes you shiver, fear and excitement coiling in your stomach.

His hand smooths over your back, caressing the curve of your behind before he smacks it lightly, a warning and a tease all at once. “Be good for me,” he says, his voice a dark rumble. “Stay just like that.” You nod, unable to speak, and brace yourself for what’s to come, the mixture of emotions swirling inside you. The anticipation hangs in the air like a thick fog, every nerve in your body alive and on edge.

His hand leaves your skin, and you can only imagine what he’s doing behind you, the sound of the leather of his belt moving the only hint of his actions. Then you feel his hand on your thigh, gripping you, positioning you exactly how he wants. “You know how this works,” he murmurs, his voice laced with warning. “You push, I push back harder. You misbehave, you get punished. You get that, doll?” You nod again, your head resting against the sofa cushion, the fabric cool against your heated skin. “Yes,” you manage to whisper, the shame and humiliation mixing with the excitement coursing through you. “I understand.”

“Good girl,” he says, his hand moving higher up your thigh. “And you remember your safe words?” You nod weakly. “Yes,” you reply, your voice shaky. “Red to stop, yellow to pause, green to go.”

He hums in approval, his fingers toying with the edge of your skirt, slowly lifting it up, exposing more of your skin. “Good girl,” he repeats, his voice a low praise. “You’re going to need them. Now close your eyes.” You blink in surprise at the words, but you obey, closing your eyes tightly, the world going dark. The lack of sight makes everything more heightened, the anticipation building, your breathing fast and ragged.

The silence is filled with the sound of your own breathing, the rustle of fabric, and the occasional thump of something being dropped onto the floor. You’re painfully aware of his presence behind you, the heat rolling off him in waves. Then you feel it, the cold leather of his belt running along your thighs, tracing a path up and down, teasing but not touching where you want it to. The anticipation is almost overwhelming, your body thrumming like a wire about to snap. “Please…” you whisper, the word slipping out before you can stop it.

You hear him tsk behind you, the sound of disapproval. “I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson yet, angel.” His hand lands on your hip, squeezing it roughly, a silent command to be quiet. “You’ll get what you need when I say so, doll,” he growls, his voice taking on that authoritative tone again. “Be patient.”

The touch of the belt disappears, and you wait in tense silence, wondering what he’s going to do next. Then you feel it, a hard smack on your behind, the sensation sharp and unexpected. The pain stings, and you whimper, the sound coming out before you can stop it. “Shhh,” Noah says, his tone harsh. “Just take what I give you.”

“And keep. Those. Eyes. Closed.” The command is punctuated with another smack, harder this time, and the sting spreads across your skin. “Colour.”

“G-green,” you manage to stutter out, the word a gasp. “Good,” he says, his hand caressing where he spanked you. “Good girl,” he says, the praise sending a shiver down your spine. “Now you’re being such a good little thing.” His fingers trail up your legs, his touch light and teasing. “You can take more, princess. You’ll take as much as I give you.”

The words send a wave of pleasure mixed with fear through you, the duality of the moment making your head spin. You press your face into the fabric of the sofa, trying to stay still, to be good, to take what you’re given. “Y-yes,” you whisper, your voice shaky. “Yes, what?” he asks, his voice sharp. There’s a pause, the anticipation hanging heavy in the air, the only sound your ragged breathing and the pounding of your heart. “Say it proper, doll.”“Y-yes, sir,” you manage to say, your voice meek and submissive. “I’ll take what you give me, sir. I’ll be good, I’ll take it all.”

“Look at you.” His voice is a rough rumble, edged with mockery and condescension. “Already completely submitting after a couple of spanks, and I haven’t even touched you where it counts. Such a pathetic little girl, willing to take whatever I give you, desperate for anything I’ll give you.” He moves closer to you, the heat of his body almost touching your own. His hand tangles in your hair, tugging at it roughly, pulling your head back to look up at him. “Just a little brat, so easy to put in her place.”

“Is that all it takes, princess?” he murmurs, his voice dropping lower. “Some harsh words and a few spanks and you’re just ready to give me everything, huh?” You nod as best you can, your hair still clenched in his grip. “Y-yes,” you gasp out, your voice low and shaky. “I’ll give you anything, sir,” you whisper, the words leaving your mouth before you can stop them. “Anything, huh?” he says, his grip tightening in your hair. “That’s quite a claim, pretty girl. Are you sure you can follow through?”

“Yes sir,” you gasp out, the pain in your hair mixing with the pleasure and shame. “I’ll be good, I’ll do whatever you say. Please,” you add, your voice pleading. A cruel laugh tears from his throat, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. He’s enjoying your submission too much, relishing in his control over you. “Anything I say, huh?” He hums, the sound condescending. “That’s a dangerous promise, little one.” His hold on your hair tightens, pulling you even further back. You can see the smug look on his face, his eyes looking down at you. “Are you sure you can handle it, doll?” he purrs. “You’re not going to break on me, are you?” He mocks you with his tone, the words dripping with mockery. “Answer me,” he snaps, giving your hair a sharp tug.

“I …I won’t break.” You manage to gasp out, though your voice is small, shaky. You feel like you’re drowning, completely at his mercy, his control over you absolute.

“We’ll see about that,” he says, his tone dark, still laced with mockery. “You’re going to take everything I give you, just like you promised, right?” His hand lets go of your hair, and for a moment, you’re left feeling lost, abandoned. Then he gently pushes you forward, your bare skin against the cool leather of the sofa. “Stay right there. Don’t move,” he commands.

You keep your body braced on the sofa, your cheek pressed into the fabric. You can hear him moving behind you, the sound of his boots moving across the floor. Your heart pounds in your chest, the anticipation and fear building. Then he’s back, his presence behind you stronger than before. There’s a moment of silence that is almost unbearable, the tension in the air heavy and thick. Finally, he speaks, his voice coming from above you. “Lift your hips up,” he says, his tone a command. You obey, lifting your hips up as best as you can. The fabric of your skirt bunches up around your waist, exposing your bare skin to the cool air. You feel vulnerable, exposed, and helpless.

You hear him draw in a sharp breath, the sound sending a jolt through you. “That’s a good girl,” he murmurs, his voice rough. “Look at you, so eager and desperate.”

“Such a needy little thing,” he continues, his voice a low rumble. “So willing to do anything I say, just to get my attention.” His hand comes down on your skin, a hard smack that leaves a burning trail behind. “Isn’t that right?” he adds, his tone sharp. “So desperate to be good, so eager to please.”

“Yes sir,” you gasp, the words coming out in a ragged breath. “I’ll be good, I’ll do anything you say. Please,” you add, the word falling from your lips before you can think about it. He raises an eyebrow, the action condescending and mocking. “Big statement for a little brat,” he murmurs, the words a challenge. “Let’s see if you can live up to it.”

He pauses, the silence stretching out between you. You can feel his eyes raking over your body, taking in every detail, every flaw. “Because I have a feeling,” he continues, his tone low and dangerous. “That you’re all talk, and no action.”

He moves behind you, the sound of him removing his clothes the only thing echoing through the space. His hands are gentle on your skin, the action almost a contradiction to his rough demeanor. “Lift your hips up a bit more for me, doll” he instructs, his voice a gentle command.

You obey, raising your hips higher as he positions himself behind you. There’s a rustling sound as he reaches for something, a moment of silence before you feel the cool touch of lube on your skin. It’s a gentle sensation, a stark contrast to the harshness of his words. He slicks his fingers, the motion firm and purposeful. The whole situation is a strange mix of gentleness and control, a constant reminder of who’s in charge. “Shhh,” he says, his tone soft for a change. “Just a bit of cold, doll.”

The words are a comfort, a slight reprieve from his harsh tone before. You let out a soft whimper, your body tense under his touch. Your hands clutch at the sofa cushion, the fabric bunched in your grip. “Just relax for me, okay?” he adds, his voice gentle but still holding that hint of command. “I’m just getting you ready, princess.”

His slick fingers against your core are both soothing and arousing, a contrast that makes your head spin. “Fuck, baby, so wet for me. You been thinking of this while I was on stage?” You press your face into the fabric, biting your lip to keep from making a sound. The feeling of anticipation coiled tight in your belly, the knowledge of what’s coming next both exciting and terrifying.

He takes his time, gently preparing you with a care and precision that’s surprising given his earlier attitude. “You’re doing so well, my doll,” he murmured, the praise wrapping around you like a blanket. “Being so good for me, letting me take care of you.” His words are gentle, but the control in his tone is undeniable.

After a little more prep, you feel him withdraw his fingers, leaving you feeling empty and wanting. There’s a moment of silence, and you’re not sure what to expect. Then he speaks, his tone suddenly rough and commanding once more. “You’re ready for me now, pretty girl,” he grunts. “Just the way I want you.” The words are a stark reminder of who’s in charge, his hand grabbing your hips roughly and pulling you back towards him.

His grip is tight, holding you in place, as if you were an object to be used for his pleasure. “Been waiting for this,” he growls. “Been waiting to feel you around me. So desperate and needy, aren't you?” There’s a possessive edge to his tone now, the gentleness from before vanishing completely. His body is pressed close against your own, the heat of him burning through your skin.

He pauses for a moment, the heat of his breath against your skin your only warning before he speaks again. “Gonna take what’s mine” he growls, the words thick with desire. “This pretty little pussy belongs to me.” You can’t hold back the soft whimper that escapes you, your back arching almost unconsciously, your body needy and ready. You’re lost in a sea of sensation, every nerve ending on edge.

You claw at the sofa to find something to hold onto, a lifeline to tether you to reality. But it's all becoming a blur, his presence behind you taking up your entire focus. “Such a pretty little sound,” he murmurs, the words a harsh contrast to his gentle tone before. “Like music to my ears.”

You’re pressing back against him, desperate for friction, your body desperate for any touch he’ll give you. “So impatient,” he chuckles, the sound deep and rough. “Impatient little doll, so needy for me.”

“Just can’t wait, can you?” he adds, the words a taunt, a challenge. “No, I thought not.”

“No, you just need to be taken care of, don’t you?” he continues, the words sharp and mocking. “Just need something to fill you up, don’t you, doll?”

He chuckles, the sound low and guttural against your skin as his lips brush your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “You’re always so desperate for my attention, it’s pathetic. But I suppose I can’t blame you for that.”

His hand slides up your thigh, his palm warm and rough against your skin. “You do look your best when you’re begging. I’ll give you that.”

You whimper, trying to find the words, but all that comes out is a series of garbled, incoherent sounds. Your brain is mush, all thoughts of bratting or teasing gone as you cling to him, your body arching into his touch.

He notices your inability to form a complete sentence, a satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Looks like I broke you. Can’t even string a sentence together anymore, can you?” His fingers find the edge of your skirt, slowly sliding it higher up your thighs, his other hand still on your neck, keeping you in place. “Poor thing. That’s what happens when you make me wait all night.”

His hand taps your thigh, a firm but not unkind command. “Leg up,” he instructs, his voice stern and expectant. It’s an unmistakeable order, one you know not to ignore. With a small, whimpering sound escaping your lips, you obey, lifting your leg and draping it over the arm of the sofa, exposed and vulnerable.

Your words come out as a whiny, desperate plea, a jumble of sounds that are barely coherent. “Please-” you manage to get out, your voice trembling. His hand has moved up your thigh, now so close to where you need him the most, and you’re keenly aware of how exposed and vulnerable you are in this position. “Please-“ you repeat, hoping he takes pity on you and gives you some relief.

He hums softly, his eyes fixed on you, a dark amusement dancing behind them. “Please what?” he asks, his voice dripping with mockery. “Use your words, doll.”

Your words are pleading, the tone of your voice making it clear how desperate you’ve become. You whine and blabber, your brain completely incapable of forming a coherent sentence. “Need you in me, please,” you finally manage to speak.

The smirk on his face widens as he hears your desperate plea, the edge of mockery and condescension in his tone making it perfectly clear that he’s enjoying this. “Need me in you, do you?” he repeats, the words hanging in the air for a moment before he continues. “How badly do you need it, then? Can you tell me that?”

Your throat feels tight as you try to respond, your brain so overwhelmed that speaking seems like a struggle. “Please,” you repeat again, the word pleading and raw. “So badly, I need-“ you cut yourself off, unable to fully articulate the depths of your need right now.

He lets out a low, amused sound, clearly relishing in the power he has over you right now. “What a desperate mess you are,” he murmur. A wicked, satisfied smirk plays across his lips as he finally gives in, his hand gently caressing your inner thigh as he hums in mock contemplation. “I suppose I should give you what you want,” he says, his tone still dripping with condescension. “Since you asked so nicely."

You’re a complete mess, your body shuddering and tense, your words a jumble of desperate pleas and whimpers. Your hands clutch tightly at the sofa, your knuckles white as you try to ground yourself. Your eyes are pleading, and you’re whimpering and whining, the need inside of you growing more intense with every passing second. He pushes you back, the movement firm and assured. You feel his body heat against yours as he positions himself on top of you, his hands grabbing your hips to hold you in place. He’s dominant and in control, his eyes burning with a mix of desire and satisfaction.

“You gonna behave now?” he husks, his voice a low, growling sound, as he pushes you even further into the sofa, your body pinned and at his mercy. “That’s what I thought,” he says, his smirk growing as he notices your nod and the way you’re whining. “You’ve finally learned your lesson, huh? Finally learned not to tease me and act like a fuckin’ brat?”

His hands grip your hips even tighter, his fingers digging into your skin as he slowly pushes into you, the feeling overwhelming and satisfying, the air leaving your lungs in a rush. You hear his voice through the haze of pleasure, barely distinguishable past the buzzing in your ears. “That’s it,” he groans out. You whine and whimper, clinging to him, unable to form a coherent thought or sentence. “Yes, please, yes,” you manage to get out.

You feel completely unraveled, your body trembling and sensitive to every touch and movement. He’s relentless, each thrust rough and commanding as he takes what he wants. You struggle to hold on, the pleasure so intense that it’s almost too much to bear, your body writhing under his hands, each motion drawing cries from your lips.

“Noahhh!” His name on your lips like a chant, a prayer, a plea, sends a jolt through him, a low curse leaving his mouth as he thrusts harder into you, his fingers holding your hips so tight it feels like you’ll fall if he lets go.

His movements grow rougher in response to your reaction, the need for control seeping through his actions. He leans down, his breath hot against your ear as he demands, “Colour. Now, princess.” The authoritative tone in his voice sends a shiver down your spine, the demand clear and uncompromising. “Give me a colour, baby, talk to me,” he repeats, his words a command that demands an immediate answer.

You struggle for a moment, your brain so clouded with pleasure that forming a coherent response feels like an impossible task. But finally, you manage to gasp out, “G- green.”

He hums, satisfied by your answer, the grip on your hips loosening just a little as he slowly eases back, his movements still assertive and powerful but with a hint of tenderness. “Good girl,” he praises, his voice a low growl in your ear. “Such a needy little thing,” he coos mockingly.

The sound of your safe word seems to unleash something in him, a primal and dominant side taking over. He pushes you further into the sofa, his movements rougher and more demanding as he takes what he wants. The mockery in his voice is even more apparent now, as he mutters, “Can’t believe how needy and desperate you are for me. Just begging for me to take you like this, huh?”

His hands roam your body, grabbing and pulling, his fingers digging into your skin as he pins you down more firmly. “Look at you, a complete mess under me. Did you think I was just gonna let you get away with your little act all night?”

Your hands scramble for purchase, grasping and clawing at anything you can reach. They cling to his thighs, then the sofa, then his upper body, trying to find some grounding as your body goes completely limp in his arms. Your whimpers and moans are constant, a incoherent string of sounds that seem to urge him on even further.

Your body trembles and writhes under his touch, completely undone and at his mercy. You're not sure how long you can last, but you're sure he's not planning on making it easy for you. He continues to push you to the brink, each movement calculated to drive you to the edge of madness. The intensity is overwhelming, the sensations and feelings almost too much to bear. And through it all, the mockery in his voice never fades.

His hand moves up to your throat, applying just enough pressure to make the pressure building in your core even more intense. “Going to break you for this, you know that?” he mutters, his voice gruff and low, nipping at your ear. “You won’t misbehave next time, will you?”

You shake your head vigorously, unable to form a coherent response, the sound that leaves your mouth sounding more like a plea than anything else. “That’s what I thought,” he responds, a smugness creeping into his tone as he continues to drive you further and further towards the edge. “Just gonna let me take you apart and put you back together, over and over again, is that right?”

His hand tightens ever so slightly around your throat, his other hand moving back down to grip your hips again, holding you in place as he continues to take you mercilessly. Your body is so sensitive, every touch and movement feels like an electric shock, sending tremors through your entire form as you cling to him.

It’s so much, it’s too much, and you’re sure you won’t last much longer, but you’re trapped and completely powerless in his grip, his control over you absolute. “Please-” you manage to gasp out, the word catching in your throat as your body trembles even more. “I-”

You can’t finish your sentence, the words cut off by a whimper as his movement increases, the overwhelming sensation building like a tidal wave. He groans at the sound of your whimper, the pleading word cutting through the haze of ecstasy he’s experiencing. He goes faster, his breathing ragged and his muscles taut with exertion. “I know,” he responds, his voice ragged and strained. “I know, I’ve got you."

“Not going to slow down, not gonna be gentle with you,” he hisses, the words edged with mockery. “This is what you get for being such a tease all night, huh? You love playing games, but you aren’t so good at handling the consequences, are you?”

Each word cuts through the haze of pleasure, a stark reminder of the control he has over you right now. “You’ll remember this the next time you decide to act up,” he continues, his voice low and rough. “You understand?” Your body trembles, overwhelmed and oversensitive under his touch, the words adding an extra layer of intensity to the heat already building within you. “Y-yes,” you manage to gasp out, your breath coming in short, ragged pants.

“That’s right, you do,” he responds, satisfaction seeping into his tone. “You’re gonna learn your lesson pretty quick like this, aren’t you, baby?” Your head spins, the relentless pace of his movements and the words he’s muttering driving you closer to the edge with every passing moment. It’s too much, it’s overwhelming, and you’re not sure how much more you can take. “Please-“ you manage to gasp out, the word catching in your throat as your body trembles even more. Your vision becomes fuzzy at the edges, your senses heightened to an almost painful intensity.

“Please what?” he demands, mockery seeping into his tone once again. “You think you deserve to finish after acting like that all night? After misbehaving and being a tease?” It's clear he's enjoying this, revelling in your desperation, your need for release. His eyes burn into yours as he continues to push you to the limits, his smile both sweet and sadistic in equal measure. “I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson yet, doll,” he mutters, his voice low and rough. “Think you need a little more convincing.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, the warning clear and present, but you're helpless to do anything other than cling to him, surrendering to the sensations and the dominant grip he has over you. "You're such a sight like this," he hisses out, his tone a mix of mockery and amusement. "So needy and desperate for me, begging and whimpering. Makes me wonder why you bother putting up a fight. You clearly like this way better." His words are both a taunt and an affirmation, a confirmation of the power he holds over you right now. You can feel his control in every touch and movement, every word and command, and it only serves to make you more overwhelmed and desperate for release.

"Fuck," he curses lowly, his voice tight and strained. "You feel so good like this, so tight. Like heaven.” His grip on you tightens, holding you in a position where you can't move, completely at his mercy. "Can't get enough of this, can you? Don't you remember the last time I made you wait like this, huh? You remember how desperate you were for me?"

You can barely think, your mind a mess of sensation and need, the only sound you can manage is a string of incoherent words and moans. You're a complete mess, a whiny, trembling bundle of desire, your body completely at his mercy. Your mind has turned to mush, your only focus on the intense pleasure and the man holding you captive in his arms. You're beyond coherent thought, your body completely taken over by pleasure and sensation.

The only words you can manage are broken, incoherent moans, your mind consumed by the overwhelming feeling of being at his mercy, completely at his control. You're a trembling, needy mess, a helpless victim to the pleasure he's wringing out of you with every movement and touch. You're completely overwhelmed by the power he has over you, and you're not sure how much more you can take. “Fuck, this pretty little pussy is all mine. So fuckin’ tight for me.” There's no room for doubt or question in his tone, only a certainty that you belong to him, completely and utterly. His hand tightens around your throat, a reminder of his power and control over you.

“Gonna cum-“ I whine, unable to speak a coherent sentence properly. He smirks at your struggle to form words, enjoying the effect he's having on you. "Yeah, you gonna cum for me, doll?" he mutters, his words a taunt and a demand. "You'll cum when I say. And not a moment before." His hand tightens around your throat, his grip a reminder of the control he has over you. "You understand?"

Your voice is wrecked, your response no more than a broken whimper, but you manage to nod, the submission clear in your expression.

He smiles at your acknowledgment, clearly satisfied with your obedience. "Good girl," he purrs, his tone both praise and condescension. His hand shifts from your throat to your hair, tangling in the strands and pulling your head back with a firm, commanding grip. The tug is sharp and sudden, eliciting a gasp from your lips as your head snaps back, exposing your neck to his gaze.

You're a mess, a trembling, whimpering thing, tears streaming down your face, pleading for release. Your words are a jumble, an incoherent babble of desperate pleas and need. "Please," you gasp, choked out in between ragged breaths. "Please, I can't- I need-" It's all you can get out, the rest of your words lost in the haze of pleasure and need. Your voice is raw and hoarse, your body a quivering mess in his arms. Your face is streaked with tears, your eyes pleading as you look up at him, fully at his mercy. "Please," you implore again, the word a broken whisper. You're past the point of embarrassment or pride, past the point of coherency. All you can think about, all you need, is release, and you're completely reliant on him to get you there.

Your body twitches and trembles under his touch, oversensitive and hypersensitive all at once. You're utterly wrecked, a complete mess of need and desire. Your pleas have dissolved into incoherent whimpers and gasps, the only word you're able to form is a broken, desperate "Please." There's no trace of the confident, fiery woman you normally are. You're broken down, a trembling mess under his touch, completely reduced to a state of raw need and vulnerability.

He grins at the sight of you, completely unraveled before him. "Look at you," he murmurs, his tone both mocking and affectionate. "You're a mess, princess. All worked up and begging for me, huh? You're adorable." He smirks down at you, clearly enjoying the effect he's having on you. "Needy little thing," he mutters, his tone still holding that hint of mockery. "Begging me so pretty.” There's a gentleness in his words, a hint of endearment amidst the mockery. It's a reminder that he enjoys having this power over you, relishes in the fact that he can reduce you to a trembling mess with just a few words and touches.

You're writhing and wriggling against him, your body quivering with barely contained need. You clench and tighten, desperate for release, your voice reduced to a needy whine. "Please-" you gasp out again, your tone pleading and desperate. "I can't take it, I can't-"

"Cum for me, pretty girl," he purrs, his voice both gentle and commanding. "Let go for me. I've got you." His tone is soothing, reassuring, despite the demand in his words. He knows you're at your limit, and he's going to push you over the edge, but he'll be there to catch you.

With a final few words of praise and encouragement from him, the tension that's built between you finally reaches its peak, and you come undone. Your body tenses, every muscle tight as the wave of pleasure washes over you, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. You're a trembling, gasping mess in his arms, held up by him as you ride out the waves of pleasure that crash over you, and slowly, as the pleasure subsides, you collapse against him, boneless and exhausted, completely spent. His arms wrap around your body, holding you close, a mixture of satisfaction and endearment etched in his expression.

His demeanor shifts instantly, the dominating, commanding persona fading away to reveal the softer, gentler version of himself that you know so well. He pulls you close, wrapping his arms around you with a tenderness that's a stark contrast to the intensity of moments before. “Colour, baby? How are you feeling?" he asks quietly, his voice filled with concern and affection. His fingers run gently through your hair, a soothing gesture as he checks in on you, ensuring that you're okay and that he hasn't pushed your limits too far. There's a hint of self-reproach in his tone, a silent apology for any moment when he might have been too rough or demanding.

You manage a small, exhausted smile, the aftermath of the intense pleasure still lingering. "Green," you assure him softly, your voice hoarse but steady. "So green, baby." His shoulders sag slightly in relief, the tension that had subconsciously built up in his body releasing at your reassurance. He pulls you closer, rubbing a hand along your back in a comforting, gentle motion. "Good girl," he murmurs, his tone filled with praise and affection. "You did so good, you were so perfect. I'm proud of you." The words come easily, a natural response to your submission and obedience. He's still in caretaker mode, his concern for your wellbeing trumping any remnants of the authoritative persona he had moments before.

He lifts you up gently, your body still weakened and trembling in his arms. With a soft, caring demeanor, he sets you down on the couch, a thoughtful gesture to prevent you from exerting yourself. “Just relax, baby," he soothes, his tone gentle and affectionate. "I'm gonna get you cleaned up, okay?"

He disappears into the bathroom, returning moments later with a damp towel. He sits down beside you, his touch soft and tender as he begins to gently clean up the residue of your intimate encounter. He moves between your legs, the gentle touch of the towel against your skin a soothing contrast to the previous intensity. You're boneless, barely able to move, your head falling back against the couch as you struggle to catch your breath.

His gaze is filled with affection and care as he cleans you with gentle, steady movements. Every now and then, he pauses to press a soft kiss to your skin, offering words of praise and reassurance in his quiet, comforting tone. "You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his words soft and sincere. "So good for me, princess. Always so good for me." He's careful in his movements, his touch gentle and slow so as not to overstimulate you. His focus is on caring for you, attending to your needs and reassuring you with his touch and words.

Once he's finished, he discards the towel and returns his attention to you, shifting to sit beside you on the couch. He pulls your weary body into his arms, cradling you against his chest and wrapping his arms around you, enveloping you in a protective embrace. You feel yourself yawn, exhaustion settling into your bones now that the adrenaline has faded. You snuggle closer to his chest, your body a perfect fit against his. He smiles at the sight, gently maneuvering you into his lap, cradling you against him with a protective, loving grip.

He lets a few moments pass in comfortable silence while he absentmindedly strokes your hair. Then, with a soft chuckle, he speaks up, his tone filled with affectionate sarcasm. “You learn your lesson about teasing me yet, princess?" You roll your eyes, giving him a light elbow in the side. "Oh yeah, I'm a changed woman," you reply sarcastically, a playful smirk on your lips. He laughs, enjoying your playful banter. "Yeah, right," he retorts, raising an eyebrow at you. "You're still a brat, sweet girl." His tone is affectionate, laced with a hint of mock severity. He loves your feistiness, secretly enjoying the way you push his buttons. It's all just a part of your dynamic, an endearing trait that he finds endearing even as he playfully chides you for it.

He presses another soft kiss against your hair, his voice a soothing rumble. "Get some rest, angel," he murmurs, holding you tightly against his chest. "I've got you, just relax."

He continues to stroke your hair, a gentle, repetitive motion that is meant to soothe you into sleep. He stays alert, watching over you as you slowly drift off.

“I love you, princess.”

taglist @aubrey-melinoe @cainified @krrule1 @ihrtlonghairedboys @somewhere-diamond

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Just Friends: Sleepover

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

masterlist

Summary: Bucky sleeps over.

It’s giving

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Should be good as new,” Bucky sits back on the footstool and rubs his neck. “Don’t know about me, though.” 

You lean on the counter with a sheepish smile, “I told you, I’d call the landlord.” 

“Uh huh? And try to light this thing in the meantime? You’d set yourself on fire,” he closes the over door and stands. “I like you unsinged, dreamy.” 

“I have a microwave,” you roll your eyes. 

“Oh, you mean the one that sparks and sounds like military tank?” He challenges as he packs up his toolbox. 

“It makes the food hot,” you rebuff. 

“Uh huh. Maybe the radiation is getting to ya,” he teases as he puts the box on the counter. 

He stretches his arms and as he brings them down, he yawns, covering his mouth. He turns his other wrist to check the time. 

“God, it’s late,” he says. 

“Is it--” you choke on your words as you see the time on the stove. “Oh gosh, Buckyyy.” You whine. “You shouldn’t have stayed so long.” 

“And let you burn this place down? You’re going to give me flashbacks. God, I think it was... 1938. Steve was living with his ma still, taking care of her, and he left some newspapers by the stove...” 

“1938...” you echo. “Right, I’m not going to say it.” 

“You better not,” he pokes you in the ribs playfully. “Well, I guess I shouldn’t waste any more of your time. You know, I’ll be just fine walking through the dark. I might get overtime pay if I can wrangle in some hoodlums--” 

“Oh, stop,” you huff, “I’ll get you a blanket and a pillow. I know the couch is a bit small.” 

“Ah, doll, you don’t gotta--” 

“God, you sound like such an old man. ‘Doll, you want a lozenge?’” You mock as you throw your hands up. “Can’t anyone do something nice for you?” 

“What? What do you mean? I’m joshing ya,” he follows you as you spin and march out of the kitchen. 

“Sure, I know. Always a joke with you.” 

“What is this about? The date?” He asks. 

“Well... I thought you’d be more excited,” you shrug. “I was really excited for you. Now I feel like I’m forcing you.” 

“You kinda are,” he leans again the wall as you open the closet, the door blocking him from your view. 

“Forcing you to go out with a sophisticated, gorgeous, woman? I know, it’s torture.” 

“Trust me, I know what torture is. It’s not a joke,” he crosses his arms. You blanch. 

“I-- sorry, I didn’t mean--” you stutter as you kick the door shut. 

He laughs, “got ya again.” He taps the end of your nose then takes the blanket from you. “Relax, I said yes. I’ll put on a tie and comb my hair. Look human.” 

“Awesome,” you smile and he squints. 

“Mm, and you always do that,” he accuses. “Those puppy dog eyes.” 

“I’m more of a cat person,” you giggle. “There’s a pillow on the back of the couch and—oh, want a hot chocolate. I usually have one before bed.” 

“Hot chocolate?” He repeats as he goes to the couch and drops the blanket on top. 

“Sure! I got the oreo stuff.” 

“Nah, I’m good,” he sits and rolls his shoulder. 

“Well, you snooze, you lose. More for me,” you tilt your head and skip back into the kitchen. You flip the kettle on and sweep back into the living room. 

“What about you?” Bucky asks before you can leave him. “You still coming? You find someone?” 

“Oh, I’ll be there but I’m still looking for a date,” you say. “Don’t worry, I got a few ideas.” 

“Right, lined up the block, huh?” 

You stick your tongue out and flit into the bedroom, “whatever.” 

You close the door behind you and change into your pajamas. The fluffy pink shorts go perfectly with the tee with the bunny on the front. You step into your slippers and go back out. 

As you come out, Bucky pushes his hair back and groans. He has his shirt off as he sits back and pushes his arms wide. He cracks his neck again as your eyes meet. 

“Last call for hot chocolate?” You offer. 

“No thanks,” he says as he leans forward. 

You smile and scurry into the kitchen. The tension rises with the steam of the kettle. You weren’t expecting to see him like that. Well, it’s just his chest and his abs. Abs? He has abs. Holy moly.  

You look down and poke your pudge. Maybe he can give you some tips. You peel back the lid from the canister of chocolate powder; a start would be cutting down on the sweets. 

The hardwood shifts and his footsteps circles around to the kitchen door. You glance over as you spoon the mix into a mug. You put the lid back on and shove the can back into the cupboard. 

“Water?” He asks. 

“Sure, fridge,” you point. 

The kettle clicks and you take it of its heater. You pour and glance over as Bucky pulls open the fridge. He bends to search the mostly bare shelves. You’re overdue for a shop. 

“The jug should be--” the water laps over the side of the mug and hits your fingers. “Ow! Ayeee!” 

You slam the kettle down and shake your hand. Bucky’s so fast, you squeal as he grabs you and spins you to face the sink. He flips the cold water on and shoves your hand under the flow. You whine again at the frigid splash. 

“Ah, Bucky, I’m fine. It’s just a little water,” you tug but he keeps a hold of you. 

“I told you to be careful,” he huffs. “You should pay attention.” 

“I was trying to help,” you say. 

“And I’m tryna help you stay outta trouble,” he reproaches. 

“I’m okay. Really, it’s nothing.” You shut off the tap and wriggle free of his grasp. “See?” 

The burn stings but it’s nothing you can’t handle. You’re more affected by his suddenness. You can feel his hard strength throbbing in your wrist. If he didn’t want to let go, he wouldn’t have to. That thought needles behind your ears. 

He drops his shoulders, “sorry, dream. Really. I was just... you scared me, you know? I hear ya make those noises and I get a bit... uptight.” 

You exhale and give a small smile, “no, I... appreciate it. I mean, you can’t turn hero mode off, can ya?” 

He chuckles and the air thins, “yeah. Guess that’s what you can call it.” 

[signanothername]

Do you think that your take on nightmare could become a better person without becoming at least fully uncorrupted?

I like your take on uncorrupted nm but I was curious to ask because there’s not really much of Nightmare becoming a better person *whilst* still being corrupted?

Asking the real questions here >:)

Before I start this ramble however, I think it’s important to keep in mind that even while uncorrupted, Nightmare’s still a bitch, cause as I mentioned before, Nightmare wouldn’t suddenly get back to becoming a kind angel with a big heart, and it’s also important to keep in mind that if uncorrupted Nightmare got back to being powerful (even without the corruption in the mix) he’s extremely prone to (and would probably) get back to his old ways

Cause while the corruption has a great impact on Nightmare’s behavior and how he deals with his emotions, the corruption is less of the root cause and more of a participant in Nightmare’s awful behavior

The root cause of Nightmare’s awful behavior is extreme fear born out of trauma

The corruption already did its job a long time ago and shaped Nightmare as a person, it’s still Nightmare himself that’s in full control of his actions, he could at any point in time, make the right or wrong decision

With that in mind, could Nightmare be a better person whilst corrupted?

I’d say it’s kinda complicated, it’s both yes and no at the same time

Could he become a better person whilst corrupted?

Yes

Would he overall become a better person with better behavior? And with everyone?

No, unless there’s an actual driving force to motivate Nightmare to be a better person somewhat (which is absolutely possible ;) ), Nightmare would continue to be a bitch

Could he still get better at treating specific people that he deems worth his time? And only deems worth his time after specific interactions that made him believe so?

Yes

Corrupted or not, Nightmare isn’t incapable of becoming a better person, however there needs to be a reason for Nightmare to be so

Nightmare is a very “treat people how they treat you” kinda person, and while Nightmare is extremely toxic, abusive, and cruel, he’s also someone who stays true to his word and would treat who treats him with kindness the same, and Nightmare doesn’t easily believe in genuine kindness without a goal behind it, and so he’d insist on giving something back instead of accepting kindness for what it is

So if someone shows him genuine kindness, he’d also show genuine kindness (in his own twisted way) in “this is me paying my debt back” way, like, he’d “pay it back” by keeping the AU of the person who showed him kindness under his protection for a period of time, or let go of a debt they owe him, etc

I’ve mentioned before that Nightmare is capable of kindness, and I don’t mean in “paying someone’s kindness back” kinda way, but he can actually be kind in an active way where he thinks of doing something kind to someone else without it being a payback of sorts, and so Nightmare can still make a good decision and actually show it without any strings attached, and the truth is he does show it, very rarely, but he does (in the “a little life update” comic, Killer mentions how Nightmare managed to do one “good thing” at least ;) )

Nightmare just has a mindset that’s like “nobody was ever kind to me when i was the one who’s helpless/ defenseless, so why should I ever show anyone kindness now that I’m in power?” It’s an irrational mindset, but the thing is, no one can debate him on it considering it’s something he keeps to himself

For the outside world, Nightmare does what he does cause he’s a bitch and that’s it, not taking into consideration the fact he acts the way he does as a result of a harmful mindset he developed due to a life changing traumatic experience (obviously cause they don’t know)

And while his kindness is still pretty much apart of him, whenever he has certain thoughts of doing something good/ kind for someone, he just immediately stomps on it and tells himself that he’s being “irrational”, and yes, Nightmare thinks that being kind in a cruel world is “irrational”, he’s the opposite to Dream, who thinks that being kind in a cruel world is what true strength is

And y’know I kinda always talk about how much of a bitch Nightmare can be, but I never talk about the fact that, despite how bitchy he is, Nightmare can actually be sensible

In the right circumstances at the right times, Nightmare can actually be talked to without him being an absolute bitch

And that goes for almost everyone, MTT included

like Killer, Murder and Horror can actually talk to him without Nightmare immediately taking it as a chance to abuse them

But Nightmare is the kinda person that you need to tiptoe around sometimes, cause he has insane mood swings, so MTT have to check whether he’s in a good mood or a bad mood and based on that decide whether it’s a good idea to approach and talk to him or leave him alone and sometimes even go as far as make themselves as small and as unseen as possible as to not catch his attention

Building a good rapport with Nightmare is.. complicated, but possible

But the thing is, even if Nightmare became a better person, it’s better to keep your expectations a bit low, cause even if Nightmare took genuine steps towards becoming a better person i think his capacity for that is limited, like don’t expect him to become like Dream where he’d jump to saving someone in need, but he’d cut back on his abusive and toxic behavior

Basically, Nightmare would become a better person but in a passive rather than an active way where he’d stop hurting people himself, but would let other people do the hurting for him (and i mean in a natural way with how positivity and negativity works and not send someone to hurt another)

For example, let’s say the twins see an innocent someone get beaten in front of them, Dream would immediately jump in to save them, Nightmare wouldn’t, he’d watch with sadistic glee and it would even get a chuckle or two outta him as the poor soul is getting beaten all while he feeds on their misery and once he’d fed himself he’ll just leave (and that’s regardless whether he’s corrupted or not)

It’s cause Nightmare also has the mindset of “the strong devours the weak”, it’s the natural order of things to him, it’s not his fault that the world around him settles for the minimum is it? That’s why he’s obsessed with power and would do anything to obtain it, if Nightmare can ensure that he keeps that power by torturing innocent people then he’ll do it, all cause he’s paralyzed by the terror of the mere thought of becoming weak again

To Nightmare, weakness means a death sentence, and we all know how irrationally afraid Nightmare is of death

Despite his power, knowledge, and 500 year long experiences, Nightmare was and will always be a fearful child who claws at the world around him first so it wouldn’t have the courage to claw back at him (completely dismissing the fact that the world would claw back regardless >:) )

For Nightmare to become a better person he needs to face his greatest enemy, and that enemy was always his own self

[moonstruckme]

omg mae bae happy bday and congrats on 7k wowie! would you do apple pie, ¹⁰⁾ a six pack of beer and an apology, with steve harrington? <3

Thank you lovely <3

cw: alcohol, spin the bottle

Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

Steve finds you in the kitchen. You’ve procured a pair of scissors from somewhere, and you’re snipping apart those plastic rings that hold together six-packs. You glance up as he comes in but look away quickly, picking another up off the counter. 

“Turtles strangle themselves on these things,” you say. You snip a corner, the sound short and crisp. “I don’t know why we still use them.” 

Steve honestly doesn’t think much about sea animals when he’s drinking a beer, but he wants to agree with you. “Me neither.” 

“It’s like, we’re supposed to be this advanced society. Can’t we come up with something that doesn’t kill turtles?” 

“Mhm. Probably.” 

“I just think it’s dumb.” You push out a breath. It sounds frustrated, but Steve knows you well. You’re more stressed than angry. He’s not patient enough to wait for you to get around to telling him that yourself. 

“What’re you doing in here?” he asks. 

You look up at him again. Shrug. “I was sick of being out there.”

“You wanna go home?” 

“Do you?” 

It’s a fair thing to ask. Steve’s your ride, so leaving these things is usually a joint decision. But he feels like the question is pointed. “Do you think I wanna go home?” 

“I don’t know.” Some of the stress is seeping into your voice now, your terseness taking on a new hue. “You seemed mad.” 

He was mad (is mad?). He just hasn’t figured out if it’s fair for him to be, yet, so he wasn’t planning on making it your business. He thought that would be the nice thing to do, but you don’t seem to appreciate being left out of the loop. 

“Do I seem mad now?” he asks. 

You cut through the last plastic ring with a harsh snap. “Christ, Steve, I don’t know. Why are you asking me all this?” 

“I’m sorry,” he says, and though it’s automatic he does mean it. “I’m not trying to be mad at you.” 

Your eyes meet his, crushed before you can hide it. “But you are.” 

“Not—” He sighs, jamming his thumb against his brow bone. It’s an anxious habit, a preventative measure against potential headaches. “Not really. Not in a way that’s important.” 

“I think it’s important anytime you’re mad at me,” you say. Your voice has softened and smalled. Steve feels like his guts are in knots. He wants to make an excuse, to explain—It’s not that I’m actually mad at you. I haven’t decided if I should be. So we’re all good, right? For now, I mean. At least until I decide.—but before he get the chance to further fuck things up you ask, “Can you tell me what you’re mad about?” 

Steve drops his hand to look at you. “You really don’t know?”

You wince, and he thinks you do know. “I didn’t mean for that to happen. I’m sorry.” 

He feels his brows furrow. “For what to happen?” 

“For it to land on you.” 

“That’s not…it’s spin the bottle. You can’t control who it lands on. That’s the point.” 

You shake your head, almost to yourself. Your fingers are fiddling with the ends of your sleeves. “I shouldn’t have even played. I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have if I’d known that was gonna happen.” 

“What do you keep apologizing for?” Some accidental anger makes its way into Steve’s tone. “Who did you want to kiss?”

You blink. “No one.” 

“Nobody plays spin the bottle unless they want to kiss someone.” 

“Well, I guess I changed my mind.” 

“Why?” 

“Because!” Your voice rises, and you lower it just as quickly. You both glance to the kitchen entryway like the calvary is going to come force you back to that stupid party just because you almost yelled. “Because,” you say, quieter, “it was weird.”

Steve forgets to even try to keep his face in check. He feels it twist with hurt. “It was?” 

“Yes! Everyone was looking at us, and it was like a game—it was a game.” You pull your sleeves over your hands, shoulders winding up tight. “I guess I just feel like that sort of thing should be private.”

Awareness dawns upon him like a slow sunrise. Steve has never been known for his book smarts, but he’s not stupid. He knows what it feels like to be liked. He’s just never known what it felt like to be liked by you. 

A little laugh of disbelief stumbles out of him. “You said ‘ew.’” 

You’d been tipsier and fizzy with excitement when the game had started. Smiling and laughing at everything, your giddiness palpable. When your turn had come, Steve had watched you carefully to see if your eyes did that hopeful flit to someone in the circle, but all your concentration had been on the bottle, your smile slipping just a little as it spun. And landed on him. 

Ew, you laughed. No, c’mon, you can’t make us.

That’s the game, Marcy had reminded you gleefully. As a resister, you now had the attention of most of the circle. It wasn’t Steve’s first time playing. He knew how it went. 

Relax. He’d forced a smile, getting onto his hands and knees to meet you in the middle. It’ll be quick. Not too disgusting.

You’d made a face of humorous unwillingness, your eyes darting around the group as if seeking rescue. Fine, you relented. If it’s not a big deal to you, it’s not to me. 

Steve had done this more than once, but it felt especially awkward with you. Crawling into the middle of a circle of spectators, your hand knocking the bottle so that it clinked and rolled. True to his promise, he kept it brief, a short, painless press of his lips. Hardly enough to feel the impression of yours before you were both pulling away, Steve silent and you spewing a string of nervous giggles. 

You’d left before it was Steve’s turn to spin. 

Now you seem near to ripping the sleeves of your shirt, the material stretched over your curled fingers as you worry your lip. You’re back to not looking at him. “I didn’t mean ‘ew’ at you.” 

It had sure sounded like it. “Then what did you mean?”

“I meant it, like, I didn’t like how things were going.” You laugh at yourself, the sound stymied. “Like ew, we have to kiss in front of everyone, or ew, Chris is watching us way too intently.”

Steve makes a face. “He was?” 

“Is that what you’re mad about?” Something seems to dawn upon you now, too, your expression clearing. “That I said that?” 

He looks at you for a second. “Well, it sounds stupid when you say it out loud.” 

“No it doesn’t,” you say, but you look to be fighting a grin. “I’m sorry, it’s not stupid. I didn’t mean to be mean.” 

“It’s okay,” he says genuinely. 

You shake your head. “I wasn’t thinking. But that’s not what I meant.” 

Steve knows this now, but he teases you anyway. “Are you sure about that?” 

You hesitate only half a second before you catch onto what he’s doing. Your smile starts to win. “I’m sure.” 

“Kissing me doesn’t disgust you?” 

“No.” Your voice is bashful now, but your eyes are steady on his as you take a step toward him. 

The knots in Steve’s guts aren’t getting any looser, though there’s a different kind of commotion going on there now. “I don’t know if I believe you.” 

You reach for each other at the same time, his hands on your ribs and yours on either side of his face, and this time there’s no glass bottles to knock or rules to adhere to or spectators to appease. This kiss isn’t short.

[luveline]

hi! i hope you’re doing well! could i please request a little something about hotch coming home from a case to non bau!reader and jack watching star wars, just bonding and being cute. he wants to hug you both so bad cause he missed you and loves you but he doesn’t want to interrupt your moment

thank you for requesting! fem, 1k

You drop your head back into the cushions to avoid getting whacked in the chin with Jack’s forehead. “Woah,” you say, laughing as a wave of buttery yellow popcorn kernels drop onto the floor. “Good thing we have hardwood.” 

“Why?”

You grab a handful of popcorn to eat from the bowl. “‘Cos all I’ve done today is make a huge mess.” 

Hotch smiles from the doorway. It’s dark in the house, and the music blaring from the television has occluded his arrival. You’ve no idea he’s watching you now, and you don’t act much differently than if his presence was announced. In fact, he’d say that sometimes you’re so focused on not overstepping your place in Jack's life that you restrain yourself. 

Butter and comfort alike has loosened the reins. You cuddle Jack to your side, the two of you laying across the long sofa with a faux rabbit fur throw wrapped around your two bodies, his head nestled under your chin. Your arm is around his tummy, belting him to you while blue light flashes over your faces. Lightsabers paint your eyes, their zinging and humming near painful in his bad ear. 

“Who’s side are we on again?” you tease. It’s subtle, but Hotch knows you’re joking. 

“Oh my gosh,” Jack says, “you forgot again? That one,” —he points at the screen— “that’s Obi Wan Kenobi.” 

“And we’re team Obi Wan?” 

“Yes, of course.” 

“Of course,” you echo, clearly finding him funny. “But the other one is more handsome, don’t you think?” 

“Am I handsome?” 

“Jack, you are the most handsome.” You stroke his hair back and encourage him to meet your eyes. “You’re so, so handsome, babe, you’re beautiful, and so smart, and so awesome. You’d wipe the floor with Obi Wan Kenobi.” 

Jack manages a reproach through his bashful smile, “I wouldn’t fight him, he’s the good guy. I would fight him.”

“Hmm.” You grab some popcorn from the bowl in front of Jack and eat a few pieces, then offer it to Jack. “I wouldn’t fight him. He’s too pretty.” 

“He’s evil.” 

“He doesn’t look evil.” 

Jack laughs and turns to you completely. “You’re funny. People don’t look evil, they just are sometimes.” 

“I know, baby, I’m just confused because all the good people in my life are beautiful.” You hug him behind his shoulders, looking at him with all the love in the world. “You’re a great example. You’re handsome, so how am I supposed to know you might be evil?” 

“You have to be careful,” Jack says sincerely. 

“Baby, I am. I promise I am.” Your eyes squint closed with your gentle smile, your noses almost touching. “I’m just kidding with you. I love having jokes with you.” 

“I love having jokes with you.” Jack gives you a quick hug, arms tight behind your head and his face nuzzling your collar. “Thanks.” 

“Thanks! Oh, you’re welcome, you don’t have to say thanks!”

“Well…” Jack pulls away, shrugging as you manoeuvre him bodily into a more comfortable position beside you. “I just think you should fight Anakin because he’s not kind, even if you think he’s handsome.” He says handsome with all the intonation of a boy discovering cooties for the first time. 

You shrug, eat another handful of popcorn, and seemingly see the light. “Alright, I’d fight him. I suppose I already have your dad, right? I don’t need any more handsome men in my life. Two is enough.” 

“Yeah,” Hotch says, flicking on the light, “I’d say so.” 

Jack jumps, upending another wave of popcorn onto the floor. You grab the bowl, and Jack has enough wits about him to hop over the spilled kernels rather than crush them as he presents himself to Hotch for hugging. 

“Hi!” Jack says. 

He’s getting longer. It takes Hotch more effort than it ever used to to pick him up and pat his back. “Hi, buddy. Nice jammies, those are new ones. Is Y/N giving you gifts again?” 

“She always gives me gifts.” 

“I’m buying your love,” you say, shielding your eyes from the glare of the big light. 

“I love it,” Jack says. 

Hotch puts him back down on the ground with a kiss. “You should. Did you have a good day? Sorry I was working, I missed our Saturday.” 

“Dad, it’s okay, you always work. We went to the store and we got candy, and now we’re watching Star Wars and you’re back, so it’s okay.” Jack beams and puts his hands behind his back. “Will you watch it too?” 

“Sure, buddy, I just have to wash up. Did you have dinner?” 

“Y/N made me lasagna from scratch, even the pasta,” Jack says. 

He sounds deeply, sincerely loved. His pride at having you put time and care into the meal is evident, and Hotch knows that he and Jack are incredibly lucky to have you and to have Jack be able to experience it. Something as nondescript as dinner can make all the difference. 

You sit on the couch still, a touch bashful. “It didn’t take long.” 

“Was it delicious?” Hotch asks Jack. 

Jack nods hard enough to hurt his neck, head bobbing up and down. “The best!” 

“Well, she deserves a good thank you, huh? For taking such good care of you today?” He lowers his voice to a whisper. “What should we do for her, in return? Did you have dessert?” 

“No,” Jack whispers back. 

Alright, then that’s what they’ll do. You treat Jack like he’s a found treasure, and you love Hotch as easily as breathing. Hotch takes Jack’s smaller hand in his and gives you a look that promises the world’s most squeezing hug after they’ve procured dessert. “Can you pause the movie, honey?” he asks you. “We’ll be right back.” 

You shake your head at him, but your smile isn’t easy to hide. “Your dinner’s under the grill,” you say. 

He adores you more, somehow. “Thank you.” 

[redrose10]

#9 from the picture game!

Warnings: None

You sat at your computer screen anxiously waiting for your husband to answer your call. He was touring on the other side of the world and you might’ve missed him just a tiny little bit.

Finally after what felt like forever he picked up.

He didn’t say anything. Just sat staring at the screen. This was the eighth time you had called in the last four hours. The thing about Yoongi is he will always answer your call as long as he’s not performing or in an interview or something similar. And you knew that and would occasionally use it to your advantage.

Like right now when you called to ask him a question that you already knew the answer to. “Y/N,”, he said softly.

Not babe, baby, jagiya, kitten. Just your name. You knew he was getting frustrated maybe even a little annoyed so this was going to have to be the last time you called him.

“Ummm do you know where our measuring cups are? I want to bake some cookies and can’t find them.”, you asked rather shyly because you knew exactly where they were. The cookies were already made and cooling on a rack in the kitchen.

Yoongi licked his lips, “They should be in the drawer next to the spoons. If they’re not there then just let me know and I’ll order a new set and have them rush delivered.”

That was just like Yoongi. Even though he was exhausted and frustrated with you he would still go out of his way to make sure you were taken care of no matter what.

“Thanks Yoongs. I���ll check there. Get some sleep. I love you.”

“I love you too.”, he said before quickly ending the call.

You closed the laptop and slid it under the bed not wanting to be tempted to call him again. You were already pushing your luck.

Instead you did some laundry, straightened up the apartment, made lunch. You felt like hours had gone by so you grabbed the laptop excited to call Yoongi again as he should be awake by now.

Much to your dismay though the clock showed that barely two hours had passed. You closed the laptop and walked over to the bed.

“I can’t call him again. He needs to sleep.”, you sighed.

Maybe laying in the bed was a bad choice because the sheets still smelled faintly of him, only making you miss him more.

You tried to hold out as long as you could which ended up only being at extra twenty minutes before excitingly running over to your desk.

You waited and waited and finally Yoongi’s face popped up on the screen. His eyes were barely open and his hair was a mess. You had clearly woken him out of a deep sleep and you felt awful.

This time he didn’t even speak. He just sat there and stared at the screen.

You could feel your emotions starting to bubble up. Your bottom lip began to shake.

“I’m sorry Yoongi. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay Y/N. What do you need this time? Find the measuring cups?”, he asked.

You nodded, “Yeah I made double chocolate chip cookies.”

He nodded but remained silent.

“Umm I just…I”, you said fidgeting with a loose thread in your tshirt.

Yoongi stayed silent as he waited for you to continue.

So you said, “I was just wondering…If there was a zombie apocalypse and I got bit would you still love me even though I was a zombie?”

You saw him swallow thickly. He used his elbow to prop up his head and leaned forward to get a closer look. His eyes squinted at you and his eyebrows furrowed. His mouth stayed slightly agape. He didn’t speak. He looked like he was in shock, maybe a tad disgusted.

“I’m sorry Yoongi. I just miss you a lot. I won’t bother you again and I’ll try to change so I don’t do this again. Go get some sleep and call me when you wake up.”, you said feeling ridiculous before quickly ending the call.

You sat staring out the window for a few a moments trying to think of something to distract you. Your phone vibrated on the desk.

Your heart swelled and your cheeks hurt from how hard you smiled.

A text from Yoongi,

“I’d build you a really nice cage where I could keep you and still come visit you from afar because yes I would still love you even if you turned into a zombie. But I love you more just the way you are now so please don’t change, especially into a zombie because I like kissing you too much and I don’t want to give that up.”

[aestheticaltcow]

No Phone Policy 6.0

The final part of No Phone Policy: I had a lot of different ending ideas for this, but low-key. The seasonal depression is hitting pretty hard, so we get an okay ending instead of a fire ending. There may be an epilogue, but don't quote me on that.

The Bear Masterlist

Previous Part

“What’s goin’ on, Y/N? You’re scaring me…” Mars begged as she kneeled beside you, brushing your unkempt hair out of your face. After what had happened with Carmy, you’d come to her downtown apartment. You didn’t answer her question. You closed your eyes and tried to take a breath, only for it to get caught in your throat.

Mars sighed and let you be in her guest room. 

Your Dad, on the other hand, had none of this. When Mars had updated him on what was happening, he was mentally preparing to go to prison for the rest of his life. He was going to kill Carmen Berzatto and happily admit to doing it. No one hurt one of his little girls and got away with it. 

He pulled up to you and Carmy’s house early that afternoon. He parked next to Carmy’s car and calmly approached the door. He remembered where the two of you hid your spare key and let himself in. 

“Carmen,” he called as he began walking upstairs, clenching and unclenching his fists as he vaguely remembered the layout of your home. He saw an open door and confidently walked in to see Carmy holding his granddaughter. Her eyes were wide as she furious sucked on a tie-dye pacifier, “Oh hey Marty. Y/N isn’t here..” Carmy trailed off awkwardly, unsure of how much you’d told your dad. 

“That’s Mr. Y/L/N to you, Carmen. Now, give me my granddaughter and start explaining what you did to my buggy,” he said authoritatively. Carmy sighed and handed Wolf off to him.

“Hi, gorgeous girl. You look just like your mommy- why is your mommy not here? Did your daddy do something stupid?” 

Carmy swallowed as he stood before Marty awkwardly, “We’ve been fighting… she has some fuckin’ postpartum thing. I don’t know- I wanted things to go back to the way they were, and I guess I pushed her too far. I didn’t hurt her- at least this time… she was ignoring me, and I grabbed her wrists, but this time, she fell down the stairs and ran off. She isn’t answering my calls, so I don’t know where she is.” 

Marty didn’t believe him for a dam second. “Be so happy I’m holding my granddaughter right now, or I’d beat the crap out of you, Carmen.”

Carmy nodded, knowing it was true, “Look, Mar- Mr. Y/L/N, I love Y/N more than I could ever. I’ve been killin’ myself over missing Wolf’s birth since she came out. I fuckin’ failed as a father and as a husband. I- I don’t deserve your daughter; I never have, and I never will. I just wanna talk to her. If she wants to leave, I’ll sign whatever- I just wanna see my daughter.” Carmy swallowed softly, suppressing the urge to cry.

~

Carmy dug through his closet that morning as Natalie sat on his bed, holding Wolf on her lap. “So, how do you want today to go?” she asked, wiping Wolf’s mouth with a tissue. Carmy huffed and pulled out a blue button-up shirt from the back of his closet. He was unsure if it would fit, but it was the ‘most court-appropriate,’ as Pete would say. 

“I dunno. Guess what were doin’ now?” he chuckled as he threw the shirt to the bottom of the closet still on the hanger. “Fuck it- I haven’t seen my wife in fuckin’ weeks. I’m fuckn’ tired of this shit. I want her to come home. I don’t wanna get divorced and fuckin’ share custody. I want her here, with Wolf, with me- as a fuckin’ family.” he scoffed as he moved to sit next to Natalie. “It took a year and a half to even get pregnant, and then I went and fucked everything up.” 

Natalie put her free hand on his shoulder and smiled sympathetically, “I can’t imagine what you’re goin’ through right now, Carmen, but I think if you stand there and speak from the heart, everything will work out.” 

Carmy shrugged and took Wolf from her lap. She laughed at the feeling of Carmy’s hands wrapping around her waist. He couldn’t help but smile at the sound, “You’re gonna have so much fun with Auntie Sugar… be a good girl, okay?” 

Carmy’s question was met with happy gurgling and a gummy smile. He smiled and kissed her before handing her back to Natalie, “Well, which me luck.” Carmy grinned as he excused himself.

~

When you entered the courtroom, Carmy felt his heart skip a beat. He didn’t realize how long it had been since he’d last seen you. You’d changed your hairstyle from what it had been to a shoulder-length bob; you also dyed it darker. Carmy swallowed when you took your jacket off. He hadn’t seen you in person for weeks, and as much as he tried, he could tear his eyes away from your chest. 

The judge called the hearing to start and began asking questions concerning the nature of the divorce. The words went through Carmy’s head, but he didn’t hear them. He was preoccupied with you. He noticed how you picked at your cuticles and kept crossing and uncrossing your legs and the glossy look in your eyes. You were on the verge of tears throughout the hearing, this was the last thing you’d wanted to do. Having your marriage dissolve. 

“Mrs. Berzatto, do you agree to the laid out terms?” you were brought back to reality when the judge had asked you the question. You looked at your lawyer who urged you to answer, you swallowed and finally looked at Carmy. When your eyes met his, everything flooded back. Meeting him at some bar all those years ago, your first date when he spilled both his and your wine glasses on you. His horribly awkward apologizes led him to info dump of how to get red wine stains out of cotton which led to the deeper conversation of how he’d been collecting denim with his brother since he was a teenager. Memories of laughing together, him attempting to help you with your homework, cooking dinner together at 3 in the morning, and just loving and being loved by him flood your mind. Being with Carmy was like being in a rom-com from the early 2000s.

“Y/N?” your lawyer asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. You took a deep breath and tried to say something, but no words could come out. “I-uh.” You stammered, “I’m sorry.” You managed to get out before quickly walking out of the courtroom, ignoring your lawyer's call after you. 

Carmy watched you hurry out of the room and then turned his attention to the judge. “May I?” he asked, gesturing to the door. “Be my guest, Mr. Berzatto.” The judge exasperated. Carmy nodded and quickly walked out of the courtroom to find you.

You were sitting on a bench just outside the courthouse with your face in your hands. He shoved his hands into his pockets and slowly walked to the bench. As he sat next to you, he heard you sigh. “Hi, Carm,” you said softly. 

“How’s you know it was me?” he asked playfully. He heard you scoff and watched you push your hands through your hair. 

“You always smell like smoke, spearmint, and old spice,” you answered, looking up at him. He chuckled, and you watched him adjust into a more comfortable position.

“You look good. How have you been?” Carmy asked as he turned to face you. You bit the inside of your cheek nervously. “Biting the inside of your cheek… am I making you nervous?” he teased. You rolled your eyes and sighed.

“Really shitty… I’ve been absolutely dreading this day all week.” you laughed as you finally looked up at him. “Who schedules a divorce hearing on a Friday afternoon? Sorta a weekend killer, isn’t it?” 

Carmy laughed at the sentiment, “A bit. For what it counts… I’m sorry for everything I’ve done.”

“Don’t apologize. I’ve been thinking a lot and…” you took another breath as you pushed a loose lock of hair behind your ear. I don’t know what I want to do.” 

Carmy’s eyebrows knit together as he shot you a confused look, “Do for what?” 

“Obviously, I don’t know what I want for dinner.” You sarcastically joked, “I don’t know if I want to get divorced.”

“What brought that on?” Carmy asked shifting in his seat moving closer to you. You copied the movement and thought for a moment before explaining. 

“Wolf, in all honesty. I look at her and I see you.” you laughed, “I don’t know if you know but Natalie sends me at least three pictures of the two of you together everyday.” Carmy chuckled at that, he hadn’t asked Natalie to do that but he appreciated it in the moment. “I don’t want her to have divorced parents and I-” you paused for a second “I don’t want to get divorced.” 

“You don’t want to get divorced?” Carmy repeated, making sure he’d heard you correctly.

“I don’t want to get divorced.” You said again. The comment left Carmy dumbfounded, “I’ve been thinking a lot, and I guess I realized you are sorry for all the shit you did. I said some really mean shit to you, and while it was somewhat deserved, I’ve been reflecting a lot, and- I don’t wanna get divorced. Do you?”

Carmy laughed at the obscurity of the question: “You initiated this baby. When I asked you to marry me, I meant it till death.” You sniffled at Carmy’s words and reached out for him. Carmy grinned and moved to hug you. Having you in his arms felt foreign, not in a bad way, but in an unfamiliar way. 

It wasn’t an overnight ‘get back together’. It took work, and the two of you were ready to do it.

[redfoxwritesstuff]

The dim moonlight filtered in from the trees, shining down from the false sky in the pocket dimension that existed within the room. Black things snaked across the ground as your feet took you as fast as you could. By the door, discarded and dropped was the pot of tea you had brought for what you believed was the sickly hotelier.

Alastor was sick, that was for sure, but not with anything a cup of tea would fix.

"Ah!" You screamed, foot catching on what you had hoped was just a root. Please, let it just be a root.

The thing tightened around your ankle, pulling you backward. It wasn't a root at all. He had caught you. Kicking at it, you tried to free yourself.

Your efforts only earned you his aggravation, masked behind a bright chuckle that cut through the darkness. More tentacles joined the first, circling your other ankle. He pulled you up, hanging you in the air by your feet.

Grabbing at your shirt, you struggled to keep it from falling too far up your torso. In a matter of seconds, you were no longer able to do that as he captured your wrists as well.

The pressure on your joints eased as fifth tentacle wrapped around your waist, supporting the bulk of your weight. You had thought he only had four and now you were left fearing just how many appendages he could form.

"Let me go!" You demanded, though your voice wavered with fear as Alastor stepped forward from the darkness, grin wide and eyes shining full of something you couldn't begin to understand.

"HA! But, my dear! If I were a spider, it appears you're trapped in my web. Like a spider, I’d never let you escape." Alastor ran a clawed finger up your cheek as he spoke, reaching up to trace a long line along where the tentacle around your waist dug into your skin, "It's funny though, because I don’t even think you realize how charmingly entrapped you are right now…" You trembled in his grasp, unsure if this was the terrifying Radio Demon's form of flirting or if you were truly in danger!?