#so like. just roll up to class and Wait right?

[dolcecherub]

first class seat on my lap girl ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

✭pairing: oscar piastri x dancer fem!reader

✭content: smuttt to the maxxxx, pnv (unprotected sex, but please wrap it before u tap it), lowkey teasing oscar, reader is a dancer, sports car by tate mcrae, dirty talk, creampie, pet names, aftercare, some fluff

✭yap: I'm soooo sorry it's taken this long, babies, lowkey i was in a slump and i didn't wanna write just for it to turn out badly. I am still slightly unsatisfied with the start, but (not to toot my own horn) i feel the smut was written welllll so I hope y'all think so too. this was written based on this request here so thank you anon! I did change it a lil bit just cuz i felt like it flowed more naturally this way. Again, sorry for the wait, and I hope y'all enjoy it!!!

✭word count: 4.5k

You were sitting on the floor near the end of the bed, legs folded neatly beneath you as you scrolled through music and choreography. Oscar stepped out of the ensuite bathroom in nothing but a towel around his waist, hair damp, chest glistening, water trailing down his torso.

You glanced once, eyes scanning over him before looking away quickly. He caught it instantly.

“See something you like?” he asked, not even bothering to hide his smirk. You rolled your eyes at his smugness, “Just trying to see what everyone’s obsessed with.” You joked, cheeks flushing at the sight of him.

He dropped the towel and started dressing slowly, deliberately. Sweatpants, no boxers, pulling the drawstring tight right in front of you, his cock imprinting through his sweats, your mouth falling open at the sight. 

Then, without warning, he stepped behind you and bent down, palms planting on the floor beside your hips, his chest brushing against your back as his lips ghosted your ear.

“You’re staring, darling,” he whispered, voice thick. “You know what that does to me.”

Then he kissed the top of your shoulder, soft and sweet, before walking off like nothing happened, your heart thundering at his proximity.

༊*·˚

You were buckled into the passenger seat, legs crossed, wearing a sundress that kept riding up with every bump in the road. You hadn’t meant to tease, not really, but the smirk pulling at Oscar’s lips as he glanced over you said otherwise.

At a red light, his hand slid onto your thigh. Casual, normal, as if it belonged there. 

Except he didn’t move it, just let it sit there, warm and heavy.

At the next light, his thumb started circling your inner thigh, slow strokes, nowhere near enough. 

“You keep shifting,” he said, tone riddled with amusement.

“You keep touching me,” you rebut, squirming slightly.

“Touching?” he echoed, lips quirking. “This isn’t touching, darling, not yet.” 

You glared at him as he smiled. 

༊*·˚

You were curled beside him on the sofa, watching some Netflix show you hadn’t absorbed a second of. Your legs were across Oscar’s lap, and at some point, his hand had landed on your calf, thumb stroking idly.

His hand slowly wandered up as he pretended to be immersed in the show on screen. 

Your knee, the curve of your thigh. Just casually inching up. He didn’t look at you, just smirked at the screen and kept tracing.

“What?” he asked, feeling your eyes on him, his tone seeping with fake innocence. 

“You’re like two inches from my-”

“Mhm,” he cut in, “I know exactly where I am, baby.” Then he finally looked at you, eyes dragging over your face, slow, dark and hungry.

“You gonna stop me?” he asked challengingly. You swallowed, cheeks flushing at his tone. 

He leaned down and kissed your temple and went right back to stroking your thigh. 

Just as slow, just as maddening. 

༊*·˚

Oscar had been on the phone, a team call or something serious. You stood at the dresser, picking out clothes for the evening, Oscar sitting just behind you at the edge of the bed, silently giving you his opinion every time you held up an item of clothing. 

You bent down to grab something, and when you stood back up, you could see Oscar’s eyes trailing down your body through the mirror.

Still on the call.

Still perfectly composed, answers leaving his mouth beautifully.

Except for his hand, now palming himself through his sweats. You stared, eyes widening at the sight. 

He winked.

Still speaking into the phone like nothing was happening. You shook your head to ignore him, walking past him.

And just as you walked past him, flustered and glaring, he brought his hand up and reached out, landing a smack to your ass, hard enough to make you squeak. 

“Sorry,” he said into the call, completely straight-faced. “Bumped my toe into something.”

You whipped around, eyes wide with disbelief. He smiled wider. 

༊*·˚

The evening had a pulse. Whether it was nerves or the tension that had been seeping off of Oscar all day, it gave you a buzz.

It was subtle, just beneath the surface of the quiet hotel, the vibration of a bass that thrummed in your chest. The windows were cracked open to the warm Las Vegas air, letting the sounds of the city drift in, faint laughter, the distant sounds of engines growling, the thrilling nightlife moving fast. 

The air in your hotel suite felt impossibly thick, heavy with that heat that hadn’t come simply from the weather. The suite smelled like clean linen and sunscreen, a faint hint of sweetness lingering in the air. 

You were sitting on the floor in front of your suitcase, digging through your costume bag while Oscar sat sprawled across the bed, one arm behind his head, phone simply lying forgotten on his chest. His gaze hadn’t left you for ten minutes. 

His gaze felt weighted from where he lay stretched on the bed in a simple black tee and sweats. Somehow, you always thought he looked better like this, loose, relaxed. His hair was still damp from his shower, watching you move around like he hadn’t been mentally undressing you since the sun set.  

“You’ve been staring at me like that since I walked out of the bathroom.” You said without looking up, haphazardly folding a sports bra in your lap. 

Oscar let out a little lazy laugh, “You walked out in that, what am I supposed to do?” he asked teasingly. 

You glanced down, and the tiny blank tank clung to your chest, loose and low in the back. The matching dancer shorts were practically second skin. “This?” It’s not even the show outfit.” You brushed off, going back to rummaging through your suitcase. 

His eyes dragged over you with an exaggerated sigh. “Don’t need it to be. That’s the problem.”

You smiled, cheeks warm, heart fluttering at the subtle hunger in his voice, always just beneath the surface with him. But right now, you were in work mode, mostly.

“Okay, seriously,” you said, standing and stretching your arms over your head, tank sliding up slightly exposing your lower stomach, Oscar’s eyes immediately dropping to the bare skin with hunger. “I need a second opinion. Tomorrow’s final dress rehearsal is in the morning, and I need to make sure I have this one section perfect. Can I run the routine for you? You can tell me if it looks clean.” 

Oscar lifted an eyebrow, now intrigued. “Which section?” 

“You’ll see,” You teased, walking towards the small table tucked into the corner of the hotel room and grabbing the chair with it, dragging it to the open center of the suite. The floor beneath your bare feet felt cool, your body already humming with nerves and anticipation, something hotter flickering low in your belly. 

Oscar tilted his head curiously, now sitting on the edge of the bed. “So you want me to give you feedback on the choreography?” 

“Yeah,” You said, pushing your hair to one side, “I trust you more than some bored stage manager who’s just money-hungry.” You dug out your speaker, turning it on and connecting it to your phone as you scrolled for the song.

His gaze dropped to your bare thighs, shorts tight at the hem. “If it’s a routine in that, you might not get any feedback that’s useful.” His face was adorned with a small smirk as he leaned back on his hands. 

You smiled as you synced your phone to the speaker. “Keep your hands to yourself, and stay in your seat, Piastri.” You spoke with false sternness. 

“Sounds dangerous.”

“Sounds like self-control,” You retorted, matter-of-factly. 

He didn’t argue, just settled back nicely with a slow-spreading grin and a glint in his eye that made your pulse stutter. 

The song began playing a bit before the chorus, allowing you time to settle and get familiar with the beat before diving into the dance. You took a slow, steady breath and let the music take you. 

You moved with intention. 

At first, it was subtle. A tilt of the head, a roll of the shoulder, a teasing ripple through your spine as you walked slowly around the chair. You made sure he watched your hands, the way they traced over your hips, your thighs, ghosted across the inside of your leg as you leaned forward and hooked your fingers over the backrest. 

Your eyes met his across the space. Oscar’s mouth had parted just slightly, his hands resting clenched on his thighs, fingers twitching. 

♪I think you know what this is♪

You lie back on the chair, arching your back and lifting your leg straight up, the other bent, your head hanging off the side. Your body moved with slow, fluid sensuality through the lyrics of the chorus. Every move emphasized the curves of your hips, the strength in your thighs, and the control in your core. 

♪I’ll bet you got a sports car♪

The music thrummed in your chest, words swirling around the room as Oscar’s eyes darkened. You turned the back of the chair towards him, sauntering up towards him, legs now straddling him, eyes locking on his face. Your knees spread wide on either side of him, thighs flexing as you dropped low onto his lap, feeling his arousal poke at you as you moved your hips in slow, deliberate rolls, moving effortlessly. 

Oscar inhaled sharply. You caught it, that second of understanding before his restraint buckled slightly. 

The beats pulsed boldly, your confidence spiking at the way his eyes roamed your body. You continued through the chorus, the final lyrics floating through your movements. 

You finished the final movement with a slow, aching drag of your hips against him, one leg propped up sternly next to him on the bed, his face nearly level with your core, breath heavy from the routine. The beat faded, but the heat in the room was ever present. It clung to your skin like a hug.

Oscar hadn’t moved, hadn’t blinked.

His arms were braced on his thighs, jaw tight, mouth slightly parted as if he’d forgotten how to breathe. His eyes were dark, locked on you like he couldn’t decide how to move on. 

You placed your leg down, slowly turning around and taking a step back, legs still flexed, a slight tremble from the control you’d held through the routine. You clasped your hands behind your back, head tilted with mock innocence.

“Well?” you said, voice light and breathless, lips curling shyly. Oscar looked up at you like he could devour you with a thought.

His voice came low, dangerous. “You knew exactly what you were doing.”

You raised an eyebrow, feigning wide-eyed sweetness. “What? Dancing?”

“Don’t play fucking dumb,” he said, standing slowly, controlled and precise, like a lion rising from tall grass. His voice sent a shiver down your spine. “Had me fucking sitting there watching you grind like you needed it, like you knew it was driving me insane.” He was standing in front of you now, head leaning down towards your ear as his hands slid up your waist. “Thought I’d just sit back while you danced like that? Legs open, tits bouncing, grinding that needy pussy into me.”

You bit your lip, every nerve in your body alight. “Just wanted to see how it looked,” you lied, knowing it was never meant for feedback. 

“Feedback.” He chuckled darkly, the word dripping sarcasm on his tongue. He pulled you flush against him, a gasp leaving your mouth as you felt him, hard, hot, twitching against your stomach through his joggers. His hand slid down, slipping under the curve of your ass and pulling you impossibly closer, grinding his cock into your stomach in one slow thrust that hitched your breath. 

Oscar pulled back just enough to meet your eyes. His eyes were blown wide, pupils swallowing the brown colour, heat rising in thick waves from every inch of him. “We can play that game, baby.” He whispered, hands gripping your thighs as he picked you up effortlessly and tossed you gently on the bed. You bounced slightly as you looked at him wantingly. Your heart hammered, thighs falling open instinctively. 

He stood there for a moment, just watching you, chest rising, cock twitching visibly beneath the waistband of his joggers. And then he smiled. 

Slow. Dangerous. Knowing.

“Wanted my attention, didn’t you, baby?” he crawled over you like he owned the space between your thighs. 

“Fucking soaked,” He murmured, eyes dragging across your wet heat, soaking through your thin shorts. “And you expect me to believe that was just choreo, hm?” He slid your shorts off slowly, tossing them to the side, your thighs slick with want. 

You moaned, hips twitching as he slid a finger through your folds. He slid a finger in slowly, his eyes aching to watch you stretch around him, cock twitching at the sight. His other hand slid up your waist gently, hands catching the hem of your tank top, pushing up past your tits as his hand grabbed your breast, thumb swiping over you teasingly. 

He leaned down and wrapped his lips around one nipple, suckling softly at first, then harder, his tongue flicking teasingly while he slid in another finger. Your back arched into him as a moan escaped your throat. 

“Who’s got you this wet, hm baby?” he teased, fingers curling dangerously. “Y-you,” you gasped, “Always you.” You whimpered, eyes begging him for more. 

He kissed the swell of your breast before trailing sloppy kisses down your torso, leaving a small hickey on your hipbone. He kissed down your hips, soft kisses tickling your inner thigh, open-mouthed and wet. 

And then his tongue met your clit. 

Your back arched off the bed instantly as he groaned against you, fingers still stretching you deliciously. He licked a slow stripe through your folds before sucking your slit between his lips. 

“Taste so fucking sweet, baby.” He groaned, his voice low with obsession. 

He lapped at you like he hadn’t been fed in days, relentless, obscene, like he wanted to leave you crying before he had even fucked you. He pumped his fingers, hitting a spot deep inside you as he licked you up, your moans bordering on sobs.

“There ya go,” he murmured, his face nuzzling into you as if he couldn’t get enough. “Sound so fucking pretty.” He felt you clench around his fingers, knowing you were close as you ground your hips onto his mouth. 

“Come for me, baby,” he groaned, your hips arching into him.

It hit you hard. Your whole body clenched, thighs snapping around his head as you cried out, your orgasm crashing through you like waves. He didn’t stop, just held you there, worked you through it, his tongue still flicking against your clit, fingers pumping into you until you were shaking from oversensitivity. 

Finally, he pulled back, lips red and wet as he crawled back up your body. He grabbed the hem of his shirt, tossing it off him before kissing you. Hot and deep, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. He reached down, shoving off his joggers as his cock slapped against his stomach, hard and leaking, your eyes wide with need. 

Oscar noticed the way your eyes locked on his cock as he smirked like the devil himself. He climbed back on top of you, brushing a strand of hair away from your face as he pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, down to your nose before landing on your lips. His tongue licked onto yours, your mouth filling with the taste of him and yourself mixed. You moaned at the taste, hand reaching down to align his cock with your entrance. He subconsciously swatted your hand away, grabbing himself before rubbing his cock teasingly across your folds. You panted into his mouth, eyes fluttering dizzily. 

He pulled back slightly, eyes gazing darkly across your face as he slapped his cock lightly on your clit, the sensation making your body jump as you whimpered. 

“Beg for it,” he demanded, voice low as he continued to tease you, his eyes set on his tip sliding through your wet folds. 

“Please, Oscar,” you gasped, grinding your body down aimlessly as you craved the touch. “I need it, please fuck, give it to me,” You whined, words breathless and needy, like music to his ears. 

He smirked, lining himself up before pushing in slowly. His one hand rested on your waist, the other holding himself up as he watched himself slide in, inch by inch, until he was fully seated inside you, filling you to the edge of pain.

“Fuck,” He groaned, his strength faltering a little, eyes closing briefly. “You always feel so fucking good.” 

He hadn’t moved yet. Just held you there, stretched and trembling, letting you feel everything, the heat, the weight, the ownership. 

Then he started to thrust, pulling out slowly at first, then thrusting back in, deep and controlled, dragging his cock along every spot that made your toes curl. Your hands came up to his shoulders, nails digging in slightly. 

“That’s it,” he murmured, voice filthy with lust, dipping his head down to whisper into your ear. “Take it. Take all of me, princess. Show me who owns this pussy.” He groaned, the words sending a shiver down you as his tip hit your cervix. 

You cried out as he started to pick up the pace, his hips snapping harder into you, your body rocking with every thrust, your tits bouncing like a sight he could only have ever wished for. 

He groaned, his hips stuttering. “So fucking perfect. So wet for me, tight around my cock like you fucking need it. Don’t you, baby, hm? Need to get fucked stupid, don’t you?” He spoke, the words spilling out of him filthily as you whimpered, head nodding incessantly. 

“I do,” You moaned, words slurring slightly, “I need it, need you,” 

“Yeah? You need to be fucked, darling?” he growled. “Need to be reminded who this pussy belongs to?” 

You panted his name, thighs trembling as you felt yourself getting close. 

“Your cunt was made to take me, look at you,” He spoke, eyes fluttering down to your belly, his cock bulging through as he pressed a hand down on it, your body jolting as you cried out. 

“Come for me, pretty girl, show me what I do to you,” he whispered, suckling wet kisses into your neck as his hips slammed against yours, his hand reaching up to rub over your nipple.

You came again, this time around him, your walls clenching tight, making him curse as he fucked you through it, chasing his orgasm. 

You felt his cock throb, your pussy fluttering around him as you looked at him dazedly, lips bitten red and raw. “Fuck, baby. Gonna fill you up. You want that, gorgeous girl? Want me to cum inside you?” He teased, voice cracking momentarily as his hips faltered. 

“Please, Osc, please, yes!” You sobbed out, legs wrapping around his hips tightly. 

With one deep thrust, he buried himself deep, spilling inside you with a groan so low and broken it sent another wave of heat rolling through you. He thrust his hips forward, mindlessly dragging out his orgasm as he filled you up, his cum leaking from where your bodies met. 

Then he dipped down, kissing your cheek, your jaw, then a soft one to your lips. “Can you go again, darling?” He asked sweetly, his cock twitching inside you, hardening again as you lay there breathless. He smiled at you, pulling out slowly, you whined at the loss, feeling his cum drip out of you as he pulled you up slowly. He rearranged the pillows against the headboard before sitting back. He pulled you on top of him, your knees holding you up slightly as his hands gripped your waist. 

He leaned back leisurely against the headboard, chest flushed, skin slick with sweat. His cock twitched against his stomach, already almost fully hard again. His eyes dragged over you, slick and wrecked, like he was seeing heaven embodied on top of him. 

“My perfect girl,” he murmured, voice honeyed and dark.

You shivered at the sound, your hands finding his shoulders as you settled, your knees on either side of his hips, still breathless from your orgasm. He helped guide you into place, his thumb rubbing slow, grounding circles into your skin. 

“You’re shaking,” he said softly. 

“I can take it,” You whispered back.

Oscar smirked, his hands dragging up to your ribs, then back down over your hips. “I know you can,” he said, voice thick with lust, “That’s what makes you so fucking good for me.” He praised. 

You reached down, curling your hand around his cock, still sticky, still hot, full hard again now, lining him up, Oscar sucked in a breath as you hovered over him, tip just brushing your entrance. 

“Nice and slow, darling,” he murmured, holding your hips steady. “Wanna feel you wrap around me.” 

You sank down with a shaky moan, taking him inch by inch, the stretch still intense and oh so perfect. Your eyes fluttered shut, head falling back as he filled you again, deeper somehow. 

“You look so fucking good on top of me, baby, fuck.” He groaned, voice strained beneath you as you finally peeled off your sweat-soaked tank top, tossing it aside. 

You started to move, slow, sinuous rolls of your hips that had him cursing under his breath, his hands gripping your hips in a way that was sure to leave bruises. 

“So warm,” he whimpered, “So wet, still fucking dripping from the first time.” He moaned, eyes dark with obsession as he looked at you, watching your body take him. 

You nodded, unable to speak, the drag of his cock sending sparks up your spine. 

“That’s it, gorgeous. Ride me, show me how good this pussy is.” He rasped out. 

You began to bounce, steady and deep, your thighs trembling from the effort, from the oversensitivity. Oscar periodically thrust his hips up to meet yours. He looked at you ravenously, like you were untouchable, divine.

“Look at you, you’re unreal,” he groaned, eyes trailing up your body. “Tit bounding for me, riding me like you need it. Like you can’t go a day without my cock inside you.”

You moaned, a desperate, wrecked sound as his hands moved, one slipping between your thighs, finger brushing your clit, the touch to the bundle of nerves sending tremors through you. 

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Use me. Get yourself off, baby. I wanna feel you cum while I’m so deep you can’t think straight.” Your head spun at his words, stomach clenching, the stimulation already pushing you close again. You moved faster, grinding down, chasing release. Oscar leaned up, mouth finding your breast, lips wrapping around your nipple as you whine out above him, hands slinking into his hair, tugging gently. 

“Feel that, darling?” he groaned against your skin. “Feel my cock throbbing inside you ‘cus of how fucking tight you are. You’re so close aren’t you?” 

You whimpered, breath hitching, rhythm stuttering as the pressure built steadily, hot and blinding. “Oscar-” You moaned, name stuttering off your lips. 

“Cum for me,” he ordered, voice firm and low with possession. “Soak me, baby. Fucking drown my cock.” 

You shattered, eyes blinding white with the intensity. You felt your head spin as you came with a cry, hips stuttering. Your body convulsed, your orgasm crashing down onto you like a tidal wave. Your walls clenched around him so tight he whimpered, head falling back against the headboard as he thrust up into you once, twice, then came with a low, broken groan, his cock twitching inside you as he spilled into you again, filling you to the brim. 

Your forehead dropped to his shoulder, your body trembling above him as you panted, every muscle spent, fucked out and full. 

Oscar’s hand softened at your hips, stroking you gently now. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he whispered against your temple, voice raw as he chuckled. “But what a way to go.” You laughed softly, breath catching. 

He held you close, still inside you, warm and full and content. His hand slid up your back slowly, fingertips tracing your spine. His lips pressed gently to your shoulder. A soft contrast to everything that had just passed between you.

“You okay?” he murmured, voice calm and quiet now. “Too much?”

You shook your head, chest rising and falling against his. “No,” you whispered. “Perfect.”

He exhaled slowly, relief softening the sharpness of his jaw. “You’re unreal,” he said, voice still hoarse. “Fucking beautiful, every second of it. Could’ve watched you ride me forever.”

You flushed at the praise, a little shaky from the high, and he felt it instantly, the way your legs trembled, how your arms tightened around him just a bit more. He slid out softly, wrapping you tighter in his hold and rolling you gently to the side, keeping you against his chest so you didn’t have to support yourself. He was slow, careful, like you were something precious he’d never let fall. 

You hummed softly against him, already half-drifting, your body boneless with satisfaction. He slid his hand down to your inner thigh, pushing your legs open slightly, his eyes hungry to see you as you tensed with a soft gasp. 

“I know, baby, you’re sensitive,” he soothed, lips brushing your temple.

His fingers were slow, barely there, just cleaning you up as his cum spilled from between your thighs and onto his stomach. “Made such a mess of you,” he muttered almost proudly, kissing your hair. “Can’t believe I get to ruin you like that and then hold you after, pretty girl.” 

You smiled, still dazed, nuzzling into his shoulder. “I love you,” you mumbled into his chest as his arms tightened around you. Not enough to hurt, just enough to keep you safe. 

“I love you so much, baby.” His hand drifted up and down your side in soft strokes. One finger trailing over your hip, your ribs, your back. Now and then, he’d tilt his head and kiss whatever skin was closest, your cheek, your jaw, the curve of your neck. 

“You okay, darling?” he whispered again, his heart hammering in his chest. You nodded, slow and sure. “Always, with you,” you mumbled back.

He closed his eyes for a second, forehead pressing to yours. “That’s all I ever want.”

The room quieted, the world narrowing to nothing but skin and warmth, his fingers never stopped moving over you, soft and grounding touches that let you fall back into your body. 

He kissed the top of your head and sighed like he could finally relax knowing you were safe and taken care of. 

The only thing he ever needed to be sure of.

~

[pushinpieta]

“i’m gonna tear into your soul” - weak hero class NSFW (scenarios)

warnings: MDNI, ADULT characters, fem reader, swearing, fingering, overstimulation, cowgirl, thigh riding, cunnilingus, edging, handjob, blowjob, cum eating, gagging, rough sex, backshots, spanking, sadism, masochism, creampie, unprotected sex, rough sex, p in v, pet names (slut, baby)

a/n: i hope you guys enjoy???? 😳 characters: sieun, suho, gotak, baku, juntae, seongje, baekjin

SIEUN - fingering

sieun had your body studied down to the very bones. he spent hours with his fingers between your thighs to memorize all the spots that made your toes curl. comically enough, sieun somehow always managed to keep his composure. calm, collected, cool, lidded-eyes trailing down all your sensitive parts until you shivered in embarrassment all while shoving his fingers deep in a cruel pace. a stark contrast to his gentle demeanor.

in a way, it felt as if he were teasing you with his watchful eyes. taunting you. making you run from it.

two of his fingers curled upwards, prodding at your sweet spot in an agonizingly slow rhythm, as if he were beckoning you to come. which you were— in another way. you were quite literally about to come as he massaged your thighs with one hand while the other was knuckles deep in your soaking wet pussy.

a broken cry left your lips, “sieun! right there!”

“here?” he asked, pumping right into the place that had you clenching your thighs with his hands between them.

“mhm!” you nodded shakily, grinding up into his hands.

your clit rubbed right against the heel of his palm causing your hips to jolt and jerk from the stimulation. electricity shot through your body with each calculated pump. you were close. so close. eyes falling shut, you gripped onto the bed sheets, throwing your head back in a raw sob, wracking your vocal cords.

your orgasm struck you like lightning, sending waves down your spine. goosebumps shot through your skin, feeling an odd cooling sensation run down your skin. sieun, however, did not stop his fingers from moving in and out of your slicky cunt, relishing in the vulgar wet sounds coming from between your legs. a slight, unnoticeable smirk creased his face as he studied your every move. observing the way you gasped every time his fingers slightly pulled out and the way your back arched against his hands when he pushed it back in with force, hitting just the right spot.

“s-sieun— no more—!” you cried out in a pathetic attempt to stop him.

“just one more.” he uttered, ignoring the way you tried to smack his arm away.

his fingers were sticky, beginning to prune from being dug into you for hours on end. you wondered how much longer you could last, it felt as if you had nothing left to give. body growing slack and shaking from overstimulation.

a light slap to your clitoris made you squeal, jerking your hips down to run away from sieun’s fingers. he worked mercilessly, waiting for you to break and shatter under his hold. he slapped again, sending more shockwaves throughout your core.

your eyes fluttered shut, the overwhelming stimulation rolling in your stomach. you were gonna come. again.

“i-i’m gonna come…” you whined, warning sieun who seemed pleased with your response.

“then come.” he breathed out, sultry eyes watching your body stutter with each thorough pump.

and you came. hard.

you cried out, not caring that your neighbors could probably hear you and know exactly what was going on behind the walls but you couldn’t care less. a burning sensation coursed through your muscles, tugging at you from over exertion and pleasure. throat sore from screaming out sieun’s name.

as sieun pulled away, he watched you tremble, lips quivering. he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead. a reward for behaving and taking it so well.

“you did good,” he said, shoving his arousal-slicked fingers into your mouth, “taste yourself.”

“hmfff—“ you gagged around his fingers, tasting yourself.

tongue pushing against his sticky fingers.

“good girl.”

SUHO - cowgirl

there was a primal urge that possessed suho every time you climbed on top of him. his chest heaved up and down as you straddled his lap. you’ve done this many times, it almost felt routine. but for suho, each time felt like the first. a sort of excitement that never wore out no matter how many times you did it. he could never get enough of watching you hovering over him with your sly eyes, brows knitting in concentration.

suho thinks you look the most beautiful like this.

you swallowed, lining up his rock-hard cock to your entrance. the tremble in your hands didn’t go unnoticed by suho as he grabbed you by the hips, rubbing smooth circles to relax your nerves. it always worked.

“you got this, baby.” he cooed, impatience gnawing in his voice.

and once you’ve sunk yourself in, the feel of his length caused you to yelp. with his hands still on your hips, you slowly, steadily, began bouncing up and down on his shaft. your walls squeezed in on him greedily.

suho’s head fell back against the headboard of your shared bed. my wife’s so perfect he thought to himself, tightening his hold on you. moans left through your lips at the way his cock curved right up into your sweet spot, tip slamming into it over and over until you began to writhe. a low groan rumbled from suho, his mouth parted open as labored breathes filled the room. he helped you bounce up and down on him, thrusting his hips up tirelessly.

“s-suho!” you cried, smacking him on the chest.

“you like that, don’t you?” he smirked, grabbing a handful of your ass in this hands, squeezing on it as hard as he could.

“y-yeah.” you nodded frantically, picking up your pace.

“such a good girl,” he praised, moving a strand of you hair to tuck it behind your ear.

he pistoned upwards into you, working his own hips. taking a short glance up, he practically came right on the spot seeing the dazed look in your eyes as you rode him. he pulled you closer to him, kissing the crook of your neck hard enough to leave colored spots all over it. you whined, when he grabbed your ass to guide you up and down on him.

“oh, baby,” he breathed, “you’re clenching so hard i might just come.”

“d-do it.” you dared, losing your ability to form a coherent sentence.

he obliged, throwing his head back with a grumble, cock twitching inside your plush walls as he released his load inside of you.

“fuck—“ he gasped, “you’re so fucking good to me.”

he didn’t let himself relax and fall back after his orgasm, no. he continued to work his hips along with yours, grinding at the perfect angle until you began to dig your nails into him, an indicator that you were soon to break.

“suho—“ you stuttered, trying to grasp onto anything as the overwhelming pleasure traveled through your core, bubbling low in your stomach.

“shh, now it’s your turn.” he encouraged, plopping you upwards then downwards.

then you came with a cry. his favorite sound. a sound that he could hear forever and never get tired off.

your cunt twitched, milking his cock as he helped you ride out your high.

“atta girl.” he tapped your cheek, helping you fall onto your back next to him in the bed with a tired sigh, “you ready for round two? this time i’ll do all the work.”

“do you ever run out of stamina, suho?” you answered, feeling sleep weigh on your eyelids but the desire for him much stronger.

“nah.”

GOTAK - eating you out

gotak could get off just from being buried between your thighs for hours on end. he isn’t even stroking himself or anything, he’s simply working on pleasing you and somehow, for him, that’s enough. he loved every second that was spent working his tongue between your folds. feeling experimental, he tried everything, zizag motion, small circles, big circles, vacuum. name it.

your fingers combed through his raven hair, tugging at the roots with a desperation that screamed for more “gotak, i’m close.”

“hmff,” he latched his mouth away from your pussy to look up at you, “hold it in a little longer.”

with that, his mouth was back on your cunt, tongue swirling everywhere. cat-licking on your clit, causing you to jolt up into his mouth. a hum of satisfaction came from the man below you as he used his tongue to spell out his name on your clit.

G; you spasmed. O; his spit trickled down your center. T; his tongue lapped right where it made you see stars. A; your back arched off the bed. K; you cried out.

“i can’t hold it in anymore!” you panted, feeling as if there was ice cold water being poured all over you, “i’m gonna come!”

he gripped your thighs, ignoring your words, digging his tongue in all the sensitive places. each time you tried to run away from it, he pulled you back, teasing you until you cried and gave in to him.

“what did i tell you?” he spoke to your pussy, “i told you to be patient, didn’t i?”

“but—“ you wanted to just close your eyes and cum but gotak would stop each time you were close, edging you until you were shaking from frustration and need all at once.

it was sickening.

“tsk, no buts,” his voice vibrated through your cunt, “if you behave, i’ll let you come.”

“gotak!” you cried in protest when his lips were back to sucking and nibbling on your sensitive part.

you knew once he glared at you through his lashes that this would last forever if you didn’t oblige, so you laid there and took it obediently.

BAKU - thigh riding

“humin—“ you whined, rutting into his thigh.

“you can do it…” he assured, one hand playing with your tits while the other caressed the side of your face.

you were fully clothed, dressed in shorts and a t shirt yet, the lewd movements you were making on humin made you feel bare. naked and watched. he positioned you on his upper thigh, where it was the easiest for you to rub and grind your clit.

your hips moved languidly against him, feeling the desperate pressure building up. the layers of clothing held a barrier of sort, making you feel frustrated and aroused at the same time. you wondered what fucked up part of your brain made you enjoy this agonizing moment. feeling like a rabid animal in heat as you desperately fought for release. all humin did was bounce his legs, prodding at your clothed cunt until you were jutting down on him with desperate whimpers. begging for him to do something. anything.

usually humin would. he was a giver. he loved to give. especially to you. but seeing the neediness in your every move, you had awoken something in him. uh oh.

“humin, please,” you begged, not sure what for.

“hmm, you’re almost there, though,” he looked down, noticing the wet spot on his grey sweat pants from you, “keep going, i’ll help you if you can make yourself come doing this first.”

“you’re so mean!” tears pricked your vision, feeling small under his gaze.

“sorry, baby, but you just look so cute.” he smiled, kissing you on the cheek, “you make it hard.”

in fact, you did make it hard— his cock hard.

you groaned, rubbing yourself on him greedily until you felt that familiar coil in your stomach. one that made your eyes glue shut in concentration. you moaned, picking up the pace on his thighs. suddenly— your eyes flew open when humin began bouncing his thigh in a faster pace, making your sensitive clit twitch in your panties. soon, you’d fall off if you didn’t grip on him so you did, wrapping your arms around his neck in a tight embrace. it felt intimate as you held onto him for leverage.

pride filled up humin as his girl held onto him for dear life. climax nearing with every bounce and grind. then it finally came, the result of your hard work. your orgasm. it shuddered through your spine, exploding in your stomach. you gasped into humin’s neck, getting overwhelmed by the pleasure and his scent—all of it tangled together arousing your farther. the wetness in your pantries felt sticky and lewd.

humin pulled away with an astonished look, “damn, that really got you off, babe.”

“shut up. you didn’t even help!” you whined, wiping away the stray tears from the corners of your eyes.

“i so did,” he defended, eyes warming from seeing you look exhausted, “how bout’ i make it up to you?”

“by doing what?” you asked.

he lifted you up and gently threw you onto the bed. you squeaked in surprise, giggling from the ticklish feeling of his fingers creeping up your thighs.

“by doing this.” he answered, greedily ripping your shorts and panties off.

JUNTAE - getting a handjob

it was always easy to get juntae all vulnerable like this. with your hands stroking his shaft, each pump causing him to stutter and cling to you. his eyes were rounded, glazed with tears from the sheer pressure. you had been at this for a while now, overstimulating juntae until he cried for you to stop. he knew, though, that he wanted more.

your hands moved up and down his length, wet from your spit lubricant. he was staring up at you. the only sounds coming from his mouth was gasps and whimpers.

“i-i’m gonna—“ he gasped at the sudden pick up of speed on his twitching cock.

“go on, finish your sentence.” your provocative eyes bore down on him, making him shrink smaller under your glare.

“gonna c-come!” he barely managed to get his words out, pathetically bucking into your fist to chase his release.

“cute.” you giggled, watching his red-faced expression.

he hastily thrusted into your hand, desperation causing him to spiral. your movements slowed every time he was close. teasing him.

frustration kicked him in the stomach but there was no escape from you. you’d drag him back and stroke him until all he could see was white and run out of words to speak. he stilled himself, hoping you’d go faster again.

once you did, he groaned. his face contorted in pleasure as you smirked down and jacked him off as rough as you could. juntae’s hands shot up to cling onto you as you fist-fucked his poor dick.

twitch

you smirked as white beads of cum erupted from his tip, leaking all over his sensitive cock.

“aw baby, you’re so cute.” you teased, thumbing his wet tip until he shuddered and twitched.

SEONGJE - blowjob

seongje is evil. pure evil.

he had on your back, in the edge of the bed with your head tilted back at an uncomfortable angle, making it near impossible for you to breathe. regardless of that, he forced your mouth open, pushing the head of his cock past your lips with a low groan.

“that’s it.” he said, voice shaking from the wet and warm feeling of your mouth taking in his cock so obediently.

every movement he made had an intention, thrusting leisurely into your throat like it was his personal glory hole.

“you’re taking it like such a good slut.” he grinned, sly eyes observing the way you struggled to take his entire cock.

you gagged feeling his tip hit the back of your throat. a tear slipped from your eyes as you tried your best not to pass out. his balls tickling the tip of your nose.

arousal spilled between your thighs tasting him.

seongje chuckled as if he could tell you were wet and completely turned on getting used up like this.

“you like that, huh?” he asked, voice teasing and labored.

he threw his head back with a grin, throat bobbing as seongje swallowed hard. you wrapped and swirled your tongue around his cock, sucking on the tip. a guttural groan vibrated from his chest, shaking your core. you snapped your thighs together, turned on out of your mind.

seongje held your head in place with both hands against the edge of the bed so that you didn’t slip off, still pistoning his cock in your mouth mercilessly. you lolled— or at least tried to loll your tongue around his tip like a lollipop. pulling away with a ‘pop’ while seductively looking up at him.

like a hungry wolf, seongje snarled, teeth out and all, staring hungrily down at his helpless prey.

“fuck, sweetheart…” he watched the way his cock disappeared in and out of your pretty and swollen lips, “you’re so fucking hot.”

“hngfff—“ you choked, air scarce in your lungs from seongje’s animalistic thrusts.

your head hung loose. you felt like a toy. seongje’s toy. there wasn’t much for you to complain, though. this was exactly where you wanted to be.

“keep looking at me with those pretty eyes,” he panted, pleasure shooting through his veins.

he closed his eyes with a sigh of satisfaction, head thrown back as if he were taking in victory. seongje was close, he could cum any second especially when you looked up at him through you tear-lined lashes.

his eyes twitched, desire controlling his movements.

“shit—“ he chuckled breathlessly, taking hold of your head to slightly position it upwards.

you sobbed into his cock in response, unable to feel or see anything. either way, you worked your used-up mouth, pushing seongje to the very edge. he gasped, twitching embarrassingly.

a menacing laugh rumbled from within seongje’s chest as he watched you lose your mind. pathetically taking his length until it reached into the deepest part of your throat, making you choke and gag.

grinning like the sadist that he was, seongje fell silent, shuddering as he came all over your face. hot, white liquid painting your pretty face like a marking. you were his toy to play with. his to use.

you licked the stray droplets around your mouth like a thirsty cat, eyes glued on seongje. he watched you like a hawk, eyes wide like a maniac. he took his finger, gathering all the remaining cum from your chin to shove it into your mouth.

you whined, sucking his fingers with a hum. lashes fluttering like butterflies.

“you were made for me.” he whispered, lifting you up from the bed into his arms, “every part of you was made for me. only me. do you understand?”

“y-yes,” you nodded up at him, still recovering from the aftermath of getting whiplashed by his cock.

“good.” he said, a rare tender side of him emerging as he kissed your forehead while sitting you down on the bed.

your head throbbed, neck sore, and your lips puffy and wet with spit and seongje’s cum, yet, you enjoyed every second of suffering and pleasure.

BAEKJIN - backshots & spanking

slap slap slap

it was one of those days where baekjin came home agitated and moody. stressed from dealing with the union. the irritation tightened his stiff shoulders.

when he walked through the front steps of your shared-home, not giving you a second to even greet him. he shoved you against a wall, devouring you kiss after kiss, all teeth and tongue. his tongue latched onto your neck, leaving dark spots everywhere.

with hurried steps, he carried you to your bedroom with an urgency that screamed— demanded now!

frustration soaked every thrust into your gushing cunt. all you could do was shut up and take it. bent over with your ass up in the air. your back arched against baekjin’s hips as he pummeled into your sorry hole. muffled cries erupted from your lips, tears soaking the pillow.

baekjin shoved your face against the pillow. you couldn’t breathe nor make sense of anything other than the feel of baekjin’s tip punching your g-spot until all you could think about was him and his cock. in the mixture of pleasure and desire, he threw in harsh slaps to your ass.

over and over.

“b-baekjin— slow down,” you choked out, tears streaking your face that was mushed up into the pillow.

“can’t handle this?” you knew from his taunting voice that he raised a brow in amusement.

“p-please?” a sob broke out from your throat as you clawed the bedsheet for support.

spank

a harsh slap to your ass caused you to lift your head up and moan. the sharp pain stinging your raw skin. it all felt so wild and rough.

“keep begging and i just might,” he proposed, grabbing you by the hips to start pounding harder into you.

the slapping sound of his hip against yours filled up the bedroom. bed creaked loudly. the headboard banged against the wall.

you worried that the bed would give out and break from the sheer force of baekjin’s thrusts.

your lips wobbled, overwhelmed by the mixture of pain and pleasure. your mind swirled, between the line of consciousness and unconsciousness.

baekjin was vicious and demanding. if he wanted something, he would get it no matter what. his hands raised up, striking your ass with another painful spank.

in response, you moaned loudly. your walls clenching around him. a vice grip on his cock, luring him closer to his release.

“please please please!” desperation seemed evident in your shaky voice as baekjin slammed into your velvety walls.

“mhm, keep going.” he hummed, landing another spank to your surely bruised bum.

“baekjin!” you whined, walls clamming down against his length, clenching tight.

“this turns you on?” he scoffed seeing the way your body reacted to each slap, “what a masochist.”

he finally gave you what you wanted, happy with the way you complied so well. his hips slowed, thrusts becoming more measured and slow. you could feel every inch of him, his veins, and the curved angle of his cock nudging your insides.

“g-gosh— think i’m gonna—“ with another final blow to your ass with the palm of his hand; you came, body giving out.

your muscles felt taut with fatigue as baekjin fucked you through your climax.

he folllwed, coming deep inside of you, filling you to the brim. he groaned, his palms soothing out the red hand prints on your ass. his cold demeanor turned warm, massaging your shoulders. gently, he turned you to face him, laying you flat against his bare chest.

“here, get under the covers,” he kissed your cheek, pulling the covers over your nude bodies, pressing himself against you, “get some rest, now.”

[tobiosbbyghorl]

can you make badboy! sunghoon x student council! reader. But sunghoon is so downbad for reader. But reader too tired off sunghoon demeanour who always break the rules qnd skipping the class

bad boy gone good? downbad | psh

You’ve had a long day. First, the cafeteria ran out of iced coffee. Then, Jungwon forgot his speech for the assembly and winged it with a rap about school spirit. And now? Now you’re climbing the stairs to the school rooftop because—according to an anonymous tip—Park Sunghoon is up there skipping class. Again.

You shove the heavy door open.

And there he is. Lying flat on his back in the middle of the rooftop. Sunglasses on. Earbuds in. Hoodie pulled up like he’s sunbathing at a resort instead of, you know—committing his sixth violation of the week.

“Sunghoon,” you say.

No response.

You say his name again, louder this time.

He pulls one earbud out and tilts his head toward you like he’s just been disturbed mid-dream.

“Wow,” he says, voice sleep-rough and amused. “You came.”

“I’m not your girlfriend. I’m your disciplinary officer.”

“Semantics.”

You glare. “You’re skipping calculus.”

He sits up and stretches, smirking. “You’re here, I’m here—maybe I just wanted some alone time with you.”

“On a roof?”

“I like the view.”

You fold your arms. “That’s a safety violation. And so is being up here. This area is off-limits.”

“I could say the same about you,” he says with a grin. “Totally off-limits. But I keep ending up here anyway.”

You blink. “Did you just… flirt with me while breaking three school rules?”

“Technically four, but who’s counting?”

“I am.”

He chuckles and pats the concrete beside him. “You know, you never sit. Always standing over me, scolding me like I’m your personal side quest.”

“Because I am this close to losing my mind.”

“You look cute when you’re mad.”

“You look unemployed if you don’t start showing up to class.”

That makes him laugh. He stands, brushing imaginary dust off his pants, and walks over. He’s close now—close enough you have to tilt your head to meet his eyes.

“You think I’m a slacker,” he says. “And I am. But only because this school’s boring. Except you.”

You deadpan. “Wow. I’m honored to be the lone source of entertainment for a delinquent.”

“Not just entertainment,” he murmurs. “I like you. Like, a lot. Like, wake-up-early-to-watch-you-scold-other-people kind of like.”

You frown. “That’s creepy.”

He nods. “Yeah. But at least I’m honest.”

Silence.

He sighs. “Fine. I’ll go back to class. But only if you walk me.”

You blink. “What am I, your parole officer?”

“No,” he says, bumping your shoulder with his. “You’re worse. You’re the girl I’m head over heels for who refuses to give me a damn chance.”

You roll your eyes but can’t fight the heat crawling up your neck.

“Get downstairs, Park.”

He grins, following behind you like a happy golden retriever in ripped jeans.

“Lead the way, Madam President.”

You don’t expect to see Park Sunghoon walk into the classroom.

No, seriously—you don’t. Not because it’s rare. Because it’s unheard of. You almost drop your pen when he saunters in like he belongs here, hands in pockets, hair messy in a way that’s somehow both illegal and school appropriate, and—wait—is that a notebook?

You narrow your eyes. He slides into the seat directly beside you.

“Reserved for model students only,” you mutter.

“I’m turning a new leaf,” he says brightly. “Consider me… reformed.”

You blink. “You’re twenty minutes early.”

“I know. I had to Google what time class starts.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. He’s wearing his uniform. Properly. Tie and all. You don’t know what’s more suspicious—his punctuality or the fact that his shirt is actually tucked in.

The teacher walks in. The students quiet down.

And for once, so does Sunghoon.

For maybe five minutes.

Until he opens his notebook—and you realize it’s upside down.

You sigh. “Sunghoon…”

“Huh?” He glances down. “Oh, that explains why I couldn’t find the lines.”

You grab his notebook, flip it the right way, and shove it back into his lap.

He beams. “Thanks, baby—”

“Do not finish that sentence.”

He holds up his hands in surrender.

But then: the teacher asks a question.

No one answers.

Except one hand goes up.

His.

Your eyes practically pop out of your head.

“Yes… Sunghoon?” the teacher says cautiously.

Sunghoon clears his throat and says with the confidence of a man who has no idea what’s going on:

“Uh… mitochondria.”

The teacher blinks. “We’re doing algebra.”

“Oh.”

Sunghoon scratches the back of his neck, leaning toward you. “That’s not the energy thing, huh?”

You slap your hand over your face.

Ten more minutes go by. He tries, you’ll give him that. But halfway through the lecture, he’s doodling your initials in the corner of his notebook and poking your elbow to show you, grinning like he just painted the Sistine Chapel.

You hiss, “Why are you here?”

He leans in, voice soft and smug. “Because you said you were tired of me skipping. So I came. For you.”

Your heart does a somersault.

But your voice stays flat. “You failed the mitochondria test two years ago.”

“I might’ve failed that,” he murmurs. “But I’m acing this… proximity.”

You stare at him.

He stares at you.

You flick his forehead.

Hard.

“OW!”

The teacher turns.

“Park Sunghoon,” she says sharply. “Do we have a problem?”

He grins, rubbing his forehead. “Nope. Just enlightenment.”

You exhale and bury your face in your hands. “This is the stupidest love confession I’ve ever seen.”

“You mean best.” He slides a note onto your desk. Inside is one word:

“Yours?”

You write underneath:

“Go to detention.”

“See you there.” He winks.

It’s almost 9 PM. The school is quiet, empty except for the faint buzz of the vending machine and the distant creak of old hallway lights.

You’re still in the council room, surrounded by ungraded forms, event flyers, and the aftermath of a failed attempt to plan the upcoming school festival. Your back aches, your brain is fried, and worst of all—your team bailed hours ago.

You mutter to yourself as you staple yet another flyer. “I swear, next time I’m making attendance mandatory…”

The door creaks.

You don’t look up.

“If you’re here to ask me to approve your stupid rooftop concert idea again, Park, I swear—”

“It’s not stupid,” comes his voice. “It was just ahead of its time.”

You sigh. “What are you doing here? It’s past curfew.”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he says, stepping fully into the room. “You’re still here doing… paper stuff?”

“It’s called work.”

“Right.” He nods, like he’s just learning what the concept is. “Well. You look like you’re about five minutes away from passing out and becoming one with that desk.”

“I might.”

He walks up slowly, looking at the mess of papers and tape and glitter glue. “You’re really doing all this alone?”

“Everyone else left. The festival won’t plan itself.”

He doesn’t say anything for a second.

Then he rolls up the sleeves of his hoodie and grabs a stack of papers.

You blink. “What are you doing?”

“Helping.”

“You don’t… help.”

He shrugs. “Maybe I do now.”

You eye him suspiciously. “Do you even know what to do?”

“Nope,” he grins. “But you’ll tell me. Like you always do.”

You should say no. You should tell him to leave before the teacher on night duty sees. But your arms are sore, your eyes are burning, and—God, he looks really good with his sleeves rolled up and a serious expression.

So you sigh. “Fine. Start by sorting those into three piles: food booths, stage events, and athletic games. If you mess it up, I’m making you redo the whole thing.”

He salutes you. “Yes, ma’am.

Thirty Minutes Later

You glance up from your laptop and blink. He’s… actually doing it. Properly. He’s even labeling the piles in his messy but oddly neat handwriting.

“You’re… shockingly competent at this.”

Sunghoon leans back in the chair, hands behind his head. “Didn’t think the bad boy could handle papers, huh?”

“I didn’t think you could handle sitting still for more than five minutes.”

He chuckles, quiet and sincere.

There’s a moment. A soft one. No smirks, no teasing.

Just him. Watching you.

“Why do you do all this?” he asks. “Like, really. No one gives you awards for staying late or breaking your back for some school festival.”

You shrug. “Because if I don’t, no one else will. Someone has to care.”

He looks at you like he’s never seen you before. Or maybe like he’s been seeing you the whole time, but now it actually hurts a little.

“That’s kinda hot.”

You groan. “There it is. You lasted so long without saying something dumb.”

“Sorry,” he laughs. “I tried.”

He stands and grabs a couple more flyers. “You know, if you ever let someone help you more often, maybe you wouldn’t be so stressed.”

“I don’t trust most people to get it right.”

He walks closer, sets the flyers down, and looks you in the eyes.

“Do you trust me?”

You pause.

And for the first time—you don’t have an immediate answer.

You’re both packing up now. The clock reads 10:14 PM.

Sunghoon carries the extra flyers under his arm, and you’re holding your schoolbag like a shield, not because you need it—but because you’re nervous.

“I’ll walk you home,” he says casually.

You glance at him. “You don’t even live in my direction.”

“Sure I do,” he lies. “I live wherever you’re headed tonight.”

“Sunghoon.”

He just shrugs, already matching your pace as you exit the school grounds. “Relax. I won’t flirt. I already impressed you once tonight. Don’t want to ruin my streak.”

You almost smile.

The streets are quiet. Just the faint hum of traffic and the soft sound of your steps echoing through the evening air.

“I didn’t expect you to help,” you say after a while, breaking the silence.

“I didn’t expect you to need it.”

You nod slowly. “I guess… I don’t let myself need people.”

Sunghoon doesn’t say anything right away.

Then, softly: “That’s exhausting.”

You look at him.

He’s not smiling. He’s not teasing. He’s just… looking forward. Like it took everything in him to say that out loud.

“It is,” you admit.

You reach a small corner shop closed for the night. The streetlamp flickers above you. You stop walking.

“You’re not what I expected either,” you say.

His head turns to you slowly. “Good or bad?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

He chuckles, but it’s quieter now. “I know I’m not the kind of guy who fits into your world. Student council. Rules. Schedules. Everything in place.”

You exhale. “You break every rule I write.”

He tilts his head. “But I always read them.”

You glance at him. “That’s… actually weirdly sweet.”

“You’re weirdly sweet.”

You nudge him with your shoulder, a quiet smile on your face. “You always joke. Don’t you ever get tired?”

“Yeah,” he says, and this time, no smile. “But if I stop joking, I might say something serious. And that’s scary.”

You blink. “Like what?”

He looks at you.

And this time—no teasing. No sarcasm. Just raw honesty.

“Like I’d drop every detention slip, every missed class, every stupid rooftop escape… if it meant you’d look at me like I’m someone worth your time.”

Your breath catches.

You open your mouth. No words come out.

The air between you shifts. Charged.

And for the first time—you step forward.

You fix the collar of his hoodie without thinking, hand brushing his neck. He doesn’t move. His eyes don’t leave yours.

“Sunghoon,” you whisper, unsure of what you want to say.

“I’m not asking for much,” he murmurs. “Just… let me stay close.”

You swallow.

And then the porch light flickers on from your house up ahead.

You step back.

The moment breaks like glass.

“I should go,” you say.

He nods. “Right.”

But as you turn, he calls out softly, “Hey.”

You glance back.

His voice is barely above a whisper.

“Thanks for letting me help.”

You offer a small smile.

“Thanks for showing me you could.”

You disappear inside before he can say anything else.

He stays there for a long moment, hands in his pockets, watching your light flick on upstairs.

Then, with the faintest smile, he turns and walks the long way home.

The festival is in full swing. Laughter fills the air. Lights twinkle above the courtyard like stars trying to outshine each other. Booths line the school field, filled with games, food, and an alarming number of students running around in cosplay.

You’re juggling three clipboards and two walkie-talkies, moving between booths with military precision. It’s exhausting.

But not chaotic.

Because—for the first time—everything is actually running smoothly.

You round the corner near the dunk tank when you stop in your tracks.

Park Sunghoon is there.

Not ditching. Not distracting. Not doing something stupid.

He’s manning the ring toss booth.

Wearing a volunteer sash.

Smiling at kids.

Not even flirting.

You stare at him like he’s grown a second head.

He catches your eye, waves dramatically, then mouths: “See? Reformed.”

You roll your eyes—but your lips tug upward, just a little.

Later That Evening

The festival winds down. Fireworks are minutes away. You’re at the back lawn, organizing the final event schedule when you hear footsteps behind you.

You don’t need to turn around to know it’s him.

“Didn’t expect you to survive this long without causing a scene,” you say.

He leans beside you against the railing. “Shocked myself, honestly.”

You glance at him. His hair’s messy from the wind. There’s glitter stuck to his cheek from the art booth. He looks… happy.

“So what happened?” you ask softly. “What changed?”

He shrugs. “You did.”

You pause.

“That night I helped you,” he continues, “you looked so tired. Like the world was on your shoulders. And still, you didn’t ask for help. You never do. So I figured… maybe if I stuck around long enough, you’d stop pushing me away.”

You don’t respond.

Because your heart is doing things. Things you’re not ready to name.

“Sunghoon,” you whisper.

But he keeps going, voice lower now. “I didn’t try to fit into your world just for fun. I did it because I wanted to deserve to stand next to you.”

You finally look at him. “You don’t have to be someone else to do that.”

“Maybe not,” he says, smiling softly. “But I wanted to be the version of me that made you proud.

The fireworks start then.

Booms echo in the night sky. Color bursts across your faces—red, blue, gold.

And you—you finally let go.

You reach for his hand.

He looks down.

You’re holding it. Intertwined fingers. No clipboard. No conditions.

Just you.

“You already make me proud,” you say.

His breath catches. “That almost sounded like a confession.”

You smirk. “It almost was.”

He grins. “So if I kissed you right now…”

You raise a brow. “You’d be breaking school rules.”

He leans in, just enough for your foreheads to touch. “Worth it.”

And under the gold glow of the fireworks, you let him.

Just once.

A soft, careful kiss.

No sarcasm. No teasing. Just everything you’ve both been holding back—finally, finally spilling over.

i hope you liked it!

TOBIOSBBYGHORL 2025

permanent taglist: @ijustwannareadstuff20 @hoonielvv @rjssierjrie @firstclassjaylee @morganaawriterr @rikifever @daisyintherainsposts @kkamismom12 @pocketzlocket @semi-wife @soona- huh @ramenoil

[cherrieshalo]

I loved queenbee reader and jock Bakugou, so I’m pretty please asking for jock Bakugou who is known for having a girlfriend who “doesn’t go here she’s from another school”. No one believes his ass until prom night when he brings his girl and it’s a girl from a preppy school. I’m going to throw out she’s the head of her school debate club but personally not completely sold on that so if you do write this feel free to change it.

STOP WAIT I LOVE THIS im gonna have so much fun tysm!!

no one believed him when jock!bakugo said he had a girlfriend. him? girlfriend? someone was actually able to deal with his ass? yeah, no way! his friends were in denial. is teammates were in denial. his classmates were in denial. there was absolutely no way in heaven, hell, or earth that he had a girlfriend.

jock!bakugo who claimed she went to a different school. he never said which one, just rolling his eyes when he'd be asked. his teammates tried to see if he made eyes at any of the girls on the bleachers during games, seeing if this mysterious girl really did go to a different school or if he was just saying that to get them off his ass.

there were small hints of jock!bakugo's girlfriend on his instagram. an occaisional post on his story of a blurry picture of their hands laced together or another blurry candid of her looking off at the sunset. all of his many posts had her in the comments, too. but to the despair of his friends, there was only one post on her account and her face wasn't even in the frame!

jock!bakugo who would turn down hang out opportunities because he was going out with his girl.

"sorry dude, can't. promised my girl that i'd see that new chick flick or whatever with her. what? no, i don't like shit like that. but she does. that's all that matters."

"no i don't want to go to your house tonight, what the fuck? my girl is coming over and pampering me. skincare and shit. i dunno, but she said it's fun."

jock!bakugo who had his guest for prom listed as his girlfriend, causing a stir throughout the upcoming graduating class. was she actually real? or did he pay some random girl to attend? it didn't matter, his friends were excited to meet her!

jock!bakugo who entered the venue proudly with the most gorgeous girl on his arm, his tie matching to her dress. she looked absolutely breathtaking'- hair styled perfectly, makeup flawless, heels high and smile radiant. the sight of you nearly knocked out the souls of his friends!

holy shit, katsuki bakugo does in fact have a girlfriend.

jock!bakugo who introduced her to his friends and teammates, arm proudly around her waist as he ranted about all her accomplishments. she went to that stupidly rich prep school right outside of town on a notable scholarship, captain of her school's debate team, an honors student, and was the founder of a new club at her school.

jock!bakugo who smirked as he saw all his friends' jaws go slack in shock. how the hell did he pull her? wait, did she say they've been dating for 8 months?? who the hell can put up with him for that long?! his smirked widened as she tugged him onto the dance floor with a grin.

jock!bakugowho reposted the only post of herself on her own instagram, a slideshow of images from prom with a simple caption of a few hearts and the cutest photos she could find of him kissing her cheek.

[sirjaketkiszka]

Favor - Jake Kiszka

“Tell me what you want.”

Jake Kiszka x Fem!Reader

Summary - After some thought, you ask Jake, your best friend, for a favor.

Word Count: 9.1k

Warnings: 18+!!, sexual content, a lot of dialogue, kissing, cursing, fingering, multiple orgasms, loss of virginity, protected piv sex, slight dirty talking, aftercare, sweet!Jake, and that’s all folks!

(Let me know if I missed any.)

Disclaimer: Apologies for any potential spelling errors or grammar mistakes.

a/n - phew, this is my longest one shot yet, and I’m sorry it took so long to post! Fair warning, it’s very slow paced, for good reason. I enjoyed writing it, so I hope you enjoy reading it ;)

You put a lot of thought into your decision, and you’re set in your mind. You’re determined to go through with it…the only thing that could stop you is Jake. The plan would be set in motion if he agrees. 

So, you stand on his front porch, your closed fist hovering over the heavy oak door, waiting to knock. This is stupid, you think, I should just turn around. 

But you don’t. Instead, you lightly pound your fist on the door, not letting yourself think for another second. Anxiety settles in your chest, creating a lump in your throat and causing a numbing sensation to travel into your limbs. You consider just leaving, pretending you never even thought of this proposition. The worst he could say is no, right?

Or, you could disrupt the foundation of your friendship.

It takes a moment for Jake to answer the door, most likely because he’s holed up in his room, lazily strumming his acoustic guitar like he always does–always creating new melodies effortlessly. 

Eventually, you can hear him stumble down the stairs, likely skipping a few steps to get to the door quicker. When the front door swings open, the brief confusion on his face melts away, and a soft smile replaces it. Even though it’s early afternoon, he’s still in his loungewear: a plain black shirt and a pair of plaid pajama pants. His hair is slightly disheveled, likely from his hands running through the soft strands. 

“Hey.” He’s breathless and happy to see you, your name rolling off his tongue like he’s relieved that you’re there. His tense features relax a little, his stature following suit, “What’s up?”

“Hey, Jake,” you peer over his shoulder, too nervous to return a fond smile. “Is your family home?”

“Not right now, why?” He quirks a brow, sensing the anxiety radiating off of you, “Is everything okay?” He frowns. 

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s good.” You brush off his concern, not intending to freak him out, “Can I come in?”

“Of course,” He steps to the side, “come on in.” 

You mouth a silent thank you, stepping past him and into his home, kicking your shoes off and aside. It’s cooler inside, combating the rising heat of early Summer. All of the blinds are shut, keeping the blazing sun from warming the interior. Your eyes take a moment to adjust to the dim room, the darkness hindering your sight from the stark contrast outside. 

Sure enough, none of his family is home; the silence of the house gives it away. 

Usually, they’d all be huddled in the living room, watching TV, joking around, and spending quality time together. You sometimes envy Jake’s close relationship with his family, but his love for them bleeds into his outer relationships—a huge reason you two are so close. 

Yours and Jake’s friendship is, for lack of a better word, out of the norm—an unlikely duo.

Since the Freshman year of high school, you two have been glued at the hip. To be completely transparent, if it weren’t for being partnered together during a biology lab, you would’ve never become his friend. 

He was popular among your class, and you were… not. Well, you knew people, and they knew you, but you kept to yourself for the majority of the time. So, when Jake insisted on continuing to talk after the project was over and done with, you were surprised. Your negative preconceived notions of him vanished as time passed by—countless hangouts, graduating together, and years of friendship all went by in a blur. 

Needless to say, you feel that you can trust him. With your life, even.

“So,” Jake clears his throat, only acting awkward because of your unsettling, anxious demeanor, “to what do I owe the pleasure? Just wanna hang?” He steps around you, walking further into the living room and plopping down on the couch, immediately falling into a slouched position. 

“Yeah, yeah…” Your voice trails off. Just bring it up, damnit. “Actually, Jake—I have a question.”

“Oh?” He perks up a bit, straightening himself. “What is it?” 

You take a couple of steps to join him on the couch, carefully sitting next to him, deep in thought.

How does one ask their best friend to take their virginity?

“I’m not entirely sure how to word this.” You admit, chewing on your bottom lip as you avoid his gaze. 

“You’re freaking me out.” Jake nervously laughs, tilting his head to catch a glimpse of your face. “You can ask me anything.” His voice is sincere and comforting.

You know Jake isn’t a virgin, and he’s dated quite a few girls throughout high school. You had no such luck, mostly because you just weren’t interested in exclusively dating anyone. School was and always will be your top priority—you worked hard to get the best grades and earn a scholarship to the college of your choosing. Not to mention, no man was entirely keen on Jake Kiszka being your best friend. What can you say, he has a reputation.

However, as time went on, you never took into account that you’d be entering your 20s as a virgin. You’d never judge anyone who prefers to wait longer, but you feel like you’re missing out. Out of the few guys you’ve talked to briefly, none of them have ever felt… worthy. The more time that goes by, the less you care about finding the “right person.” Now, it just seems like an inconvenience you want to get over with. 

If anything, you’re afraid of dating the next guy and having to admit that you’ve never done it. Or even worse, they’ll get weirdly excited about it. You shiver at the thought. 

“You’re not a virgin.” You state matter-of-factly, absolutely knowing there’s no use in asking. 

He stiffens, clearly not expecting that to come out of your mouth. 

“Well, um,” He stammers, his hands beginning to fidget. “How did you know?” Is he serious?

You finally look at him, tilting your chin down in a motion that’s meant to say, “Really, Jake? C’mon.” 

“Fine, whatever,” he leans back against the couch and folds his arms over his chest, “I’m not. You caught me. Is that what this is about? I never told you because you’re, well, a girl, and I didn’t think you’d want to hear, y’know, ‘cause you're my best—” 

“Jake.” You cut him off, sparing him the rest of his rambling explanation, “It’s only part of what this is about.” 

He closes his parted mouth, and you notice his flushed face. He’s nervous. 

“Okay…” He’s skeptical, his eyes squinting and waiting for further elaboration.

“I am.” You say, waiting for the realization to paint across his features, but when it doesn’t, you add, “A virgin, that is.”

His eyes widen, and he sits up once more, his jaw falling agape in genuine surprise. You feel like it shouldn’t come as much of a shock to him, and yet, he’s shocked. 

“You’ve never—” You shake your head, and he continues, “Not even with—”

“God, no!” You’re appalled he would even think of such a thing.

He’s referencing your longest “talking stage,” which was truly just some guy who would not leave you alone. You showed just a bit of interest for a mere moment, and the guy took it upon himself to walk you to every class, text you constantly, and even with the littlest of effort to text back, he would not take the hint. Eventually, you lied and told him you had feelings for Jake. Simply hearing “no” was not enough for him, but thank God for Jake—even if he doesn’t know that’s how you got rid of him. 

“So, you’ve just never thought of doing it?” He’s actively trying to wrap his head around it, and it’s like you can see the gears struggling to turn in his brain. Geez, is it that bad?

“Essentially.” You nod, pursing your lips, “But I have thought about it recently.”

“Okay…” He’s still puzzled, probably wondering why you’re bringing it up to him, “Why are you telling me this?” Yep. “I know we’re close, but I thought this was something we just never brought up to each other.” He chuckles. 

“Yeah, I know—it’s just been on my mind a lot, and I feel like waiting for the right person has passed for me. ” You let out a small laugh, slumping your shoulders in defeat. “Did you think your first was the right person? At least, at the time.”

He looks up a bit, like he’s thinking of a correct answer. Shifting his body, he turns it toward you, and you know he’s about to be genuine with his words.

“In all honesty, I just wanted to get it over with—Yeah, I was young, but I wanted to see what the excitement was about. It never lived up to it, though.” He laughs softly, shaking his head as he can’t believe you two are having this conversation, “And trust me, I tried—multiple times.” He smiles smugly.

“Ew, Jake.” You playfully swat his shoulder. 

“I’m just saying!” He puts his hands up in defense, laughing harder. “Like I said, it’s always just been alright. Is that what you wanted to hear? So you can stop thinking about it?” 

“Yes and no.” You admit, now chewing on your lip again, your nerves working their way back into your throat. “I kind of just want to get it over with, too. I don’t want to wait for the right person.” 

“Oh, okay,” He frowns, deep in thought. Please, get the hint. You’re too embarrassed to ask out right. “Do you need help looking or—” Oh, come on. 

“No, Jake, I’m asking you.” Your voice is quiet, your eyes cautiously watching for his reaction. He doesn’t say anything, but a strained croak catches at the back of his throat when his mouth opens to try to say something. You continue before he can, “Listen, I trust you, and you can absolutely say no. I’d prefer not to go to a stranger, so that’s why I’m asking you first. It’s not going to ruin anything, it’ll just be a one-time thing, I promise. That is, if you say yes. Again, you can say no.” You take a deep breath, having lost it during your explanation.

Jake is silent, his lips parted in shock and his eyes wide. You awkwardly smile, feeling scalding heat travel to your neck and cheeks. The silence is deafening, amplifying the tiny creaks and subtle squeaks of the old house. It feels as though an eternity has passed, both of your breathing deep and steady as you cautiously eye each other. 

“Wow. I’m… flattered.” He finally speaks, falling against the couch and staring forward, zoning out. 

That’s it? He doesn’t say another word.

“Well, clearly this was a bad idea, so I’m going to head out.” You settle, preparing to leave the couch and walk out the door, probably planning to never talk to him again. I knew it was a terrible idea, he won’t even look at me now! You think to yourself, slightly lifting yourself from the cushions. 

“Wait,” he places a hand on your knee to keep you from getting up. Your eyes match his gaze, both your eyes wide with racing thoughts. Another beat of silence passes, and the anticipation kills you. “I have to know—Are you sure?” His words are enunciated thoroughly. 

“Yes, Jake, I’m sure.” You’re not backing out of this, you decide. “I put a lot of thought into this—I'm not asking you this on a whim.” You’re sure to maintain eye contact, showing your complete honesty. 

“Alright...” He thinks for a moment, his tense features relaxing as he gets up from the couch, “Let’s do it.” He faces you, watching for your reaction. 

“Wait, what—right now!?” You lift yourself off the couch, turning to him as you both stand. “Are you sure?” 

“I mean, yeah, I’d be a fool to turn you down.” He shrugs, “But if you want to wait for a different day, we can. I know this is nerve-wracking.” No shit. Why is he being so chill about it? Is sex truly that casual?

“No, waiting will make it worse.” You figure. “I want to get it over with.” 

“Alright, your words.” He shrugs again. You nod curtly, turning from him and stepping toward the stairs to the upper floor, but his hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you. Holding your gaze, his lips part to speak, finding his words. “One more time—are you absolutely positive?”

“Yes, Jake, I’m positive.” You crack a smile, “Now lead the way.”

He chuckles, shaking his head and stepping around you, keeping a soft hold on your wrist as he guides you to the staircase. You follow closely behind, mirroring his movements as he climbs the steps. Your breathing is shallow, your nerves building in your throat as you move closer to his bedroom—a room you’ve been in plenty of times, for a different reason than this one. 

Jake’s casual demeanor is unsettling, making your expectations very low. What if it’s not what you expected? Jake, of all people, said so himself that sex is just alright. 

The two of you approach his bedroom door, watching as he opens it. You walk past him as he tugs your arm gently, letting you in first. He releases his hold on your wrist, stepping inside behind you and closing the door. The air is uncomfortably thick, or so it seems that way. 

To remain casual, you plop down on the edge of his bed, taking a seat and watching as he walks up to you, joining and sitting beside you. 

“So… Do we just…” You gnaw on your bottom lip, eyeing him as you speak quietly, “do it?”

He huffs out a quick laugh, “There’s more to it than that.”

“Okay…” You’re suspicious, squinting slightly. Your inexperience is evident—sure, you’re not completely clueless, but again, you’ve never even thought of having sex, let alone studied the logistics of it. “Like what?”

“I’ll show you.” He scoots toward you, running a hand through his hair to keep it from his face. His knee rests against yours, his upper body turned to you as he continues to lean into you, his face inching closer. Your heart is racing, your body stiffening when you realize he’s going to kiss you. Jake is going to kiss you. 

Slowly, his head tilts, his eyes leaving yours and focusing on your parted lips. You let out a final shallow breath as his lips ghost over yours, gently brushing against them before he captures them in a soft kiss. Carefully, he raises a hand, just barely resting it on your cheek as your lips collide. Eyes fluttering shut, you push back gently, breathing steadily through your nose. 

This isn’t your first kiss, but it is the first one that wasn’t a mere awkward peck. 

Jake rests his free hand on your hip, pulling you into him as your body melts to his touch. Kissing him almost feels natural, like most things in your friendship with him. The kiss is prolonged, your lips detaching for a portion of a second before finding each other again. 

His taste is subtle on your lips—you’ve never given much thought to how he might taste, let alone what kissing him would be like. Before, you expected this moment to be unsettling, causing you to chicken out. That feeling never comes; instead, you’re craving more. 

Your breathing becomes heavy while your hands leave their awkward position in your lap and come up to grasp onto Jake’s shirt. Finally, your body is fully relaxed as your closed fists tug him closer to you, a small noise of content escaping your throat. 

A faint sound reminiscent of a groan leaves Jake before he pulls away, his eyes immediately on yours, observing. 

“How was that?” He asks, a little breathless. 

“Good,” You nod assuringly, “I liked it.”

“Good,” he repeats, a crooked smile on his lips. He removes his hands from your face and hip, scooting back slightly, “Lie back.” He instructs, nodding his head toward the pillows. 

You glance over your shoulder, carefully shifting backward on the mattress until your head hovers over the pillows and you’re propping your upper half on your forearms. While watching his every move, Jake slowly repositions himself to kneel at the bottom of your legs, sitting back on his heels. His hands land on your ankles, his thumbs gently rubbing your skin beneath them. 

Cautiously, he glides his hands upward, inching gradually closer to your slightly bent knees. He pauses there, lightly nudging your legs to open. 

“Is this okay?” He stops his movements, waiting for an answer.

“Yes…” You watch him curiously. 

He continues spreading your legs open, just enough for him to shift forward, settling your legs on either side of him. Your chest rises and falls evenly, breath pushing through partially open lips, watching in awe. 

Jake is moving purposely slow, as if he’s approaching a feral cat, afraid you might startle easily and back away. 

He falls forward, letting his hands catch his weight, caging you in as he leans down and captures your lips in a deeper kiss. You’re quick to reciprocate, nudging your head forward to push back a little, finally getting the hang of kissing him. A smirk tugs at his lips as he mirrors you, establishing his dominance and causing you to lean back onto the plush pillows. Now free, your arms wrap around his shoulders, your hands lying flat against the expanse of his back. 

His hips lie snug against you, making your legs spread wider to accommodate him. You breathe in a small gasp when his bulge rests against your core, releasing an unexpected wave of arousal in your gut. Your lips part from the gasp, and Jake responds, running his tongue along your lower lip before lightly colliding with yours. 

Your mind is clouded as Jake consumes your senses—taste, touch, smell. 

His entire being swallows you in a warm, comforting embrace. One you can’t imagine feeling with anyone else. Had you approached anyone else with this offer, you probably wouldn’t have gotten this far—finally realizing what it feels like to be turned on, needing more, and chasing a high you didn’t know was possible.

You can’t imagine why Jake ever thought that this was alright. And you have yet to experience the actual act of sex. 

When Jake pulls away, your head slightly lifts off the pillows, unwilling to stop. He leans back on his heels again, raking his eyes over your frame as you eye him, his hands moving to rest on your inner thighs. Is it time? 

“Is it alright if I touch you?” His voice is raspy, laced with lust. Touch me? Isn’t he already— A hand slides up to your core as his thumb brushes against your center, meticulously rubbing your clothed cunt. 

Oh. 

His eyes are nearly black, the rich brown irises consumed by the darkness of his blown pupils. You let out a shaky breath, slowly nodding as your legs spread even further, your hips gently writhing from the feather-light contact.

“Please…” You whisper, feeling your cheeks flush.

His thumb presses harder through the thin material of your leggings, making your legs twitch and a breathy whimper escape you. The noise surprises you, your eyes wide as you feel a wave of self-consciousness overcome you. 

“So sensitive,” Jake mutters to himself, out of pure observation, “has anyone ever…?” His eyes flick down to his hand between your legs. You shake your head, your bottom lip caught between your teeth. “By yourself?” There’s disbelief in his tone.

“I’ve tried…” You let out a shy laugh, shifting your gaze away, “But I just couldn’t… you know.”

“Fuck me…” Jake nearly groans, his eyes shutting for a moment as he breathes in, the muscles in his jaws clenching. “Are you sure about this? With me?” He asks again.

“Jake. I trust you.” Your tone is certain, your eyes locked onto his. “I wouldn’t have asked you if I wasn’t sure.”

“Okay.” He nods to himself, taking your word. His hands are removed, and you silently protest, having thoroughly enjoyed the building pressure in your core. Your mouth opens to speak, but you’re silenced when his fingers hook into the elastic waistband of your pants, “Can I?” He questions, watching your face for any hint of uncertainty.

“Go ahead.” You lift your hips, allowing him to stretch the material over your hips, dragging it down your legs, tossing it off the side of the bed. His hands return to their position, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your black lacy underwear. 

“This for me?” He jokes, rubbing the textured fabric between his pointer finger and thumb.

You let out a laugh, “Actually, yeah, kind of—wanted to be prepared.”

Your friendly dynamic is still alive and well, living past the unexpected sexual chemistry you’ve mustered in such little time. When there was none to begin with, that you can recall. A feeling of hope warms your chest, knowing that maybe things won’t be too awkward after this one-time fling. 

You can only imagine how Jake feels—seeing his best friend sprawled half-naked on his mattress, face flushed because of him, legs spread and waiting for his touch. So vulnerable and trusting. His cock twitches in the confines of his tightening boxers. This might ruin him. He can’t remember a time he’s felt this hungry for someone. 

“Right.” He swallows thickly, pushing his frightening thoughts aside. 

Truth be told, Jake has thought of this. In the early years of your friendship, that is. And only occasionally after that. He chalked it up to natural instinct, but he can’t ignore the way his mouth waters when your eyes are filled with matched hunger, waiting for him to take your underwear off and touch you like he did before. His thoughts are racing, his mind hazy, and restraint is proving to be a challenge, but his exterior remains calm. 

At a tantalizing pace, he pulls the flimsy fabric of your underwear down your hips, over your thighs, and slowly down your carefully lifted legs, before setting it beside him. He silently curses when his gaze lands on your cunt, slightly glistening with arousal. 

Your legs naturally want to close, uneasy with the way Jake has become speechless, ogling at your core as his tongue swipes his bottom lip. Your knees squeeze his sides, making his hands rest on them. 

“Is everything okay?” You ask quietly, your hands gripping the bottom hem of your shirt and stretching it down.

“Of course,” He blinks a few times, seemingly out of his momentary trance, “I’m sorry—don’t be shy.” His voice is soft, reassuring. 

You release the hold on your shirt, letting it ride back up to its original state, exposing yourself to him. “Is it time?” You ask out loud this time.

“No, no.” He chuckles, shaking his head. “I want to prepare you first, okay? It’ll help with the pain.” 

The pain? 

“Okay…” You’re drawing blanks as to what he could mean by prepare.

“It’ll feel good, I promise.” He smirks.

Jake leans over you once more, holding his upper body weight on one hand as the other disappears between you both. Your eyes lock with his, and you suck in a sharp breath when you feel his fingertips drag between your folds. The feeling is foreign, exciting. His eyes scan your features, watching as your brows furrow with pleasure, your jaw falling slack as the digits memorize your every crevice. 

He’ll remember this feeling. How can he not?

The tips of his fingers collect every bit of slick, and you nearly cry out when he circles your sensitive bundle of nerves, finding it effortlessly and caressing it with attentiveness. You recall the few times you’ve done this yourself, never experiencing this much euphoria from the act—most times, ending it early and giving up.

“Shit,” Your voice is shaky, small gasps piercing your lungs, “that does feel good.”

Your eyes flutter close, your head tilting further back into the pillows as your back arches, reveling in the sensation. Your body is extremely responsive to his touch, your knees beginning to tremble beside him, your hips fighting the urge to squirm. 

Jake would be content ending it here, watching you relish in the way his fingers gently rub your aching clit, coaxing small whimpers from your bee-stung lips—the sound hitting his ears like a long searched for melody. 

“Tell me if it hurts.” He rasps, and you open your eyes, tensing when you feel a single fingertip toy with your entrance. 

His hair is over his shoulder, falling to one side as he holds your gaze intensely, his brows gently furrowed and jaw clenched. He moves his hand slowly, the tip of his finger carefully pushing into you at a deliberate pace. You breathe deeply, your hands gripping the sheets beneath you as he inches a single finger inside. His slender finger fits comfortably, and there’s little to no effort; your walls easily accommodate the digit and pulse slightly when his palm lies flat against your cunt. 

“That wasn’t too bad.” You breathe out, watching Jake bite back a smile. 

“Yeah?” He huffs, pulling his finger out nearly all the way, before slowly pushing back in. He repeats the motion a few more times, his lips parted as he admires the way your face contorts with pleasure, your breathing becoming heavy as deep moans grumble in your chest. “How’s that?”

“Oh, my God—” You mutter quietly, feeling your back arch away from the mattress when Jake increases the speed by a barely noticeable amount. The feeling is foreign to you, and the small moment of discomfort is quickly replaced by pure arousal. Have you truly been missing out on this? “So good, Jake…” 

You need to feel more of him; your hands releasing their hold on the sheets and finding their way to his sides, grasping at the soft fabric of his t-shirt. The material wrinkles in your closed fists, your mind gone elsewhere as pleasure creates a searing hot sensation in your core. Your cunt pulses once, causing Jake to slow down.

“Think you can handle one more?” He asks, halting his movements and letting a second finger rest at your entrance. 

“Only one way to find out.” You let out a breathless chuckle, though you’re trying to ignore the nerves that surface. 

Jake must notice—perhaps a minute change of expression in your features—because he doesn’t continue. Instead, he leans down, placing his lips softly onto yours, feeling you relax by his simple gesture. He consumes you again, pausing your racing thoughts, before pulling away briefly, “Guide me in.” He mumbles against your lips, capturing them in a slow, steady kiss once more.

You hum, feeling lost in him as one of your hands leaves his side, traveling into the small space between your bodies and finding his wrist. Your warmth engulfs you, radiating off of your core and blanketing your hand. Jake’s middle finger and ring finger stall just outside of your entrance, waiting for your go-ahead.

Keeping hold of his wrist, you nudge him forward, silently permitting him as you focus more on moving fluidly with his lips. Your eyes remain closed, but they squeeze when they anticipate any sense of pain as Jake’s fingers push into you at an unhurried pace. There’s a subtle discomfort, his digits stretching your walls further than they’ve been before. 

Small whimpers are swallowed by Jake, his lips planted firmly on yours as you breathe heavily through your nose. Your hand trembles around his wrist, still pulling his hand forward as the tips of his fingers brush your core. 

Your lips break from his to suck in a gasp when his fingers are inside fully, his palm resting flat against you once more. Jake leans his head back, his eyes scanning your features. Your brows are scrunched, jaw falling agape as uncalculated breaths crawl their way into your lungs. 

The sensation is more overwhelming and filling than you would’ve thought.

“Are you okay?” Jake asks, concern laced in his tone. His face reflects his words, his eyes frantically observing your every move and slight twitch in your face.

“Yes,” You gasp, still gripping his wrist firmly, “I just need a minute.” 

“Of course,” He nods, licking his lips, “you’re in control. We can stop whenever. I promise.”

You nod in return, taking a deep breath through your nose and blowing it out through gently puckered lips, before pulling his hand back ever so slightly. You move gradually, your body tensing when you push him back in. 

Repeating the motion, the pace increases with every pump of his fingers, your hold on his wrist loosening with time. Jake keeps his gaze on you while you watch both of your hands, fixated on the way his fingers disappear inside of you. The previous discomfort shifts to pleasure, and your once-shaky breaths melt into quiet sighs, your eyelids becoming heavy and hooded.

When your eyes close, you feel Jake move, and you nearly groan when his lips leave open-mouth kisses along your jaw, his own breathing picking up. 

“Fuck–” The curse word is whispered from your lips, your movements slowing as you’re lost in the feeling. 

“Want me to take over?” He rasps into your neck, his low voice vibrating your tender skin. 

“Please…” You whine, letting go of his wrist. 

Jake remains at the same pace, having found a speed that leaves you writhing beneath him. Your back arches from the mattress, an uncontrolled moan rasping from your throat when he curls his fingers just enough. Your knees press into his sides, your free hand now tangling itself into his auburn strands, gripping gently as his lips travel along the crook of your neck. 

The mixture of stimulants creates a heating sensation deep in your gut. It’s a feeling you’ve felt before, something that happens just before what’s supposed to be relief, but it never comes for you. The heels of your feet sink into the mattress, your lips releasing an incoherent string of moans and silent curses. 

“How’s that feel? Better?” Jake prods, his lips curling when your walls pulse around his fingers, “You’re close. I feel it.” 

Feel it? 

“I don’t—” Your eyes shoot open, staring at the ceiling as your chest heaves and your body is close to losing control, “What do I do?” You gasp between moans.

“Relax. Just let go…” He groans into your neck, increasing the movement of his fingers.

“Jake, oh god…” His name rolls off your tongue like a sweet, trusting harmony. “Jake, it’s happening–”

“Let it, baby, it’s okay.” Jake’s voice melts into you, and with one final curl of his fingers, they press against your g-spot just right.

“Holy sh–” Your voice unwillingly cuts out, your body overtaken by the overwhelming sensation of your first orgasm crashing into you, your vision hazy. Choked noises push past your held breath, your body clinging to him in every way it can—your legs wrapping around his waist, holding him close, and your arms coming up to grasp his shoulders, your head tilting forward to hide into the crook of his neck. 

You tremble around him, finally sucking in a breath, only to release breathless moans into his shoulder. Incoherent phrases of pleas and curses are muffled into him as your walls continue to frantically pulse around his fingers, releasing hot arousal around the digits. He pumps them into you lazily, slowly, milking out your orgasm as he breathes steadily into your neck. 

“That’s it…” Jake urges, slowing his movements, eventually coming to a stop. “I’m going to take them out, okay?” He moves away from your neck, begging your attention when his shoulder no longer hides your face. 

You nod, blinking a few times when your vision becomes clear again. He watches you intently, noticing the flush of your cheeks and the dilated size of your pupils. Carefully, he pulls his hand back, and you quietly wince—from the loss of contact and the dull ache that follows.

“How do you feel?” He asks.

“Incredible…” You whisper, letting a small smile pull at your lips.

Jake mirrors you, looking at you in awe, having shared such a vulnerable moment with you. The look in your eye begs for more, your eyes dark with lust and hunger.

“Ready for more?” He chuckles, noticing the way your eyes widen for a brief moment.

You nod, gnawing on your lower lip.

“Let me hear you say it first.”

“Yes, Jake, I’m ready.” You playfully roll your eyes, knowing he’s being cautious for your benefit. 

“That’s better.” He smiles smugly, repositioning himself to slide off the bed, standing at the foot of it. You watch, intrigued. You’re stripped from the waist down, your legs mindlessly closing as you observe him. He maintains eye contact, gripping the bottom hem of his shirt and pulling it over his body, throwing it to the floor. 

You’ve seen Jake shirtless on multiple occasions; swimming, hot band practices in the garage, or just lounging around. Never once did you think to find it attractive, but the thought of his bare skin on yours… your core tightens. You’ve never felt this aroused. You blame the lingering high of your climax.

His hands land on the waistband of his pajama pants, his thumbs hooking into the elastic material before pushing them down. There’s one piece of clothing left: his boxers. You swallow thickly, noticing the large bulge hidden by the restricting fabric. He fails to fight the smirk on his lips when he catches your reaction, your eyes focused on his erection.

Shit.

He kicks his pants to the side before returning to his boxers. Your bottom lip catches between your teeth, your chest rising and falling steadily as he slowly pulls them down. The base of his cock becomes exposed, and your core clenches. Each inch is deliberately exposed, and your mouth becomes dry. Once his erection is released from his boxers, it springs free. 

That? In you? 

Like his pants, once his boxers reach the floor, he kicks them to the side. He’s fully bare, standing with the confidence he’s known to have, and it intimidates you. Though, on the other hand, it excites you. Your mouth begins to water, thinking of his body pressed against yours, limbs tangled, and breathing heavy as he thrusts into you. 

“Like what you see?” Jake notices the subtle change in your demeanor, poking fun.

“Come here.” You sit up, spreading your legs and opening your arms. 

Jake doesn’t wait another beat, quickly climbing back onto the bed and moving toward you. He finds himself between your legs, his hips hovering above yours as your arms wrap around his shoulders once more, embracing him into a heated kiss. 

A low hum is produced from you both, your hands on each other in rough grazes and mindless grasps. Your hands explore his bare back, feeling the subtle muscles flex beneath your touch, your nails dragging along the tense flesh. His hand grips your waist, the other supporting him as his lips devour you, a hunger unleashed. 

Tongues and teeth clash, drawn-out groans releasing from you both. 

“I’m ready, Jake.” You huff between sloppy kisses, raising your hips, feeling the tip of his cock brush against you. 

“Fuck.” He lowly growls against your lips, tightening his grip on your waist. “Hold on.” 

He breaks the kiss while leaning back, his breathing heavy and frustrated, reaching over to his nightstand. He retrieves a wrapped condom from the drawer, shutting it roughly. His movements are quick, pent-up arousal guiding him. 

Jake’s hands fumble with the wrapper, shaking slightly.

“Hey,” You reach for his hands, stopping him and holding his gaze, “slow down.” 

Jake’s body visibly relaxes, and his eyes soften. Lust consumed him, urging him to move swiftly, nearly forgetting the situation at hand. He’s never felt so eager. To be inside someone, listening to his name being pried from plump lips, trembling around his cock, and squirming beneath him. This might just ruin him. 

“Right,” He nods, placing the condom in your palm, “put it on for me?” 

“Okay.” You mess with the wrapper, carefully ripping it, being cautious of the actual condom. It’s lightly lubricated, thankfully. “Do I just…?”

“Here.” He huffs out a small laugh, gently guiding your hands to his cock. “Just put that right there…” He positions the condom over the head of his cock, “Roll it on.”

You follow his instructions, using your fingers to roll the condom on. Your pointer finger and thumb do most of the work, rolling down the length of his cock. You wrap a hand around his cock, giving one final pump of the condom to make sure it’s secure.

“Like that?” You ask, watching him with wide eyes.

“Yep,” He grunts, eyes closed, “that’s perfect.”

“Jake…” You whisper, letting your hands rest on his bare waist, sinking your fingers into the soft flesh, “Now what?”

“I’ll take it from here, okay?” He soothes, running his hands along the bottom of your shirt, “Can I take this off?” 

“Yeah, go ahead.” You urge, releasing your hold on him and lifting your arms over your head, letting him pull the heap of fabric over you and setting it aside. Getting a head start, your fingers search for the clip of your bra behind your back, undoing it. You watch as Jake wraps a hand around his cock, lazily pumping, desire in his gaze. 

Slowly, you remove your hands, letting your bra fall. Grabbing one of the straps, you toss it aside, seeing it fall off the bed in your peripheral. Jake’s hand pauses, and he nearly groans. You’re completely bare to him.

“Lie back for me.” He instructs, keeping hold of his cock while the other hand brushes his hair back from his face. 

You do as he says, feeling your back rest against the mattress and your shoulders prop themselves onto his pillows. Jake follows, leaning over you while aligning his hips with yours, the head of his cock just inches from your core. 

His free hand lands beside your head, his hair framing his face as his eyes travel down your body; your chest steadily rising and falling, nipples hardened from arousal, and legs spread wide for him. The trusting look in your wide eyes makes his cock twitch in his closed fist, and the strong urge to sink into you until he no longer can only heightens. 

“Is it going to hurt?” Your question draws his attention back to you, your brows cinched in concern. 

“Just a little.” He answers truthfully, bringing his hips down slightly, and your body tenses when you feel his tip rest on your folds. “Then it’ll feel really good.” 

It’s hard to ignore the unsatiated hunger in his eyes. And if the feeling amounts to your previous orgasm… god. What if one time isn’t enough? You’ve gotten a taste of a world you had yet to explore, and now, uncharted territory awaits. 

“I’ll go slow, okay?” He continues, holding your gaze, “You’re in control. Just tell me if you want to stop.” He reminds you, making you nod. 

“Let’s do this.” You say quietly, grabbing at his waist for support. 

Jake nods lightly, inhaling a deep breath as his hips nudge forward, and the tip of his cock aligns perfectly with your entrance, still dripping with release. His hand moves his cock upward, sliding the sensitive tip through your soaked folds to collect every bit of arousal. Shaky breaths exit your parted lips, and you tense when his motions stop, returning to your entrance. 

“Deep breath, okay?” He urges, his voice slightly strained.

You suck in a long breath through your nose, tightening your grip on his waist as he moves his hips forward. His hand guides him, letting the tip of his cock ease into you at an alarmingly slow rate. You anticipate the pain, waiting for it to come, the further he inches in. 

Your walls stretch, accommodating just the head of his cock. The pain that follows is dull, hardly noticeable. 

Jake relies heavily on your expressions, having always been able to tell when you’re uncomfortable by a simple look. Your eyes, however, stay focused on his length, his hand still guiding himself in. 

Small, quiet moans braid into your gentle pants of breath, your eyes widening as you watch his cock slowly inch into you. The subtle pain increases as your walls expand to an extent they haven’t yet. Sucking in a sharp breath, you hold it, your eyes squeezing as a slight stinging sensation overcomes your core while Jake slowly bottoms out. His breathing is shallow, his free hand now coming up beside you to cage you in. 

The feeling is foreign. Full, stretched, and aching. 

“Breathe.” Jake’s voice is gentle above you, and you blow out a deep exhale.

“Holy shit, Jake.” You gasp, your eyes opening to look up at him. His hips lie flat against you, your legs trembling at his sides. 

“I know, baby…” He soothes. “I’ll move whenever you’re ready.” 

You nod, trying to regulate your breathing. You force your limbs to relax, your fingers loosening around his waist, and your legs spreading wider to open yourself to him. It does help, and the melting tension washes away most of the pain between your legs. 

“Go ahead.” You encourage, trying to remain as relaxed as possible when he sucks in a breath, inching out of you tantalizingly slow. 

Your walls close around his absence, and it’s nearly just as painful when he pushes back in, though it doesn’t last long. Strained noises gather at the back of your throat, and Jake roughly grunts as he repeats this action a few more times. Restraint is proving hard for him, the visceral urge to ruin you strong in the back of his mind. Your cunt hugs his length deliciously, tightening around him, unwilling to let him go. 

With each thrust of his cock, the pain melts into pleasure just a bit more. Your fingers travel from his waist to his broad back, your palms splayed against the warm skin as you pull him closer, his bare chest against yours. 

Just inches away from his, your lips part, letting sweet moans encourage Jake’s gentle thrusts. Your legs wrap around his waist, and your walls clench him, roping him in deeper.

“Holy shit,” Your name rolls off his tongue, and his breath is shaky, his words coming out in a hushed tone, “You’re so tight.”

“Is that bad?” Your words leave with a breathy moan, brows furrowed in slight confusion.

“No, no–fuck–it’s good,” He closes his eyes for a moment, struggling to remain a careful pace, “really fucking good.” 

The expression on his face is borderline pained, a frown pulling at his brows as his eyes remain closed. He’s focused. Lost in the way your body wraps around him, faint pulses emitting from your core, your fingernails mindlessly digging crescent moons into his back.

An unbearable fire ignites in your gut, heat rising to your neck and traveling through your limbs. You’ve loosened up significantly, his cock now pumping into you with ease, yet still slowly. 

“You can go faster now.” Your voice is meek, and his eyes open, immediately meeting your gaze.

“Fuck– Okay—” He curses.

He repositions, lowering himself to rest on his forearms while his hands splay against the plush pillows underneath you. His head is beside you, his lips ghosting over your ear as shuddered breaths exude from him. Pulling his hips back, he pushes back in quicker, being cautious as to not rock into you too roughly. 

There’s only a hint of discomfort, and like before, it disappears quickly when he repeats his movements. Every thrust is calculated, steady. His hips only brush against you, his speed increasing when your soft moans motivate him. 

Mindless pleas and phrases of encouragement exit you, aimed at the ceiling and disappearing into the farthest corners of the room. Your eyes flutter shut, reveling in the tightening sensation in your lower belly. 

“Harder…” You no longer have control over the words that leave you, letting your body and incessant need for more take over. 

Jake quietly curses, his lips brushing against your ear as his hips grind into you. His restraint is nonexistent; low groans and hushed breaths only escalate with every deep, thorough thrust. Still, his movements are unwavering, but release looms over him. 

“You feel so good.” He admits, dipping into your neck and leaving a sloppy kiss against your flesh. “So perfect.” 

You can only whimper in response, feeling the coil in your core tighten further from his words of praise. Words you’re sure hold little meaning coming from Jake, but can’t help but find delight in. With the way Jake uncontrollably grunts into your neck, you almost forget his previous claim of sex being alright for him. You wonder if he still feels that way. 

“Jake–” You whine, feeling your back lift from the mattress and arch into him. 

“Yes?” He breathes, pulling his head back to look at you, maintaining his relentless pace.

“I think I’m close again…” Your eyes are open, glazed over, and pupils blown.

“Tell me what you want.” He urges, staring at you attentively, “Want me to fuck you harder?” He asks, his filter fading and utter starvation showing. 

“Yes,” You eagerly nod, digging the heels of your feet into the back of his thighs, “please, Jake.”

“Jesus…” He mutters, changing his pace. 

His steadiness falters, his thrusts becoming rough and swift upon your request. He pounds into you effortlessly, being guided by the rush of arousal coating his cock, and the sounds of gratifying praise pushing past parted lips. 

“Kiss me.” You sheepishly beg, placing a hand at the base of his neck to reel him in. 

Jake dives into you, your lips clashing in a messy kiss as breathless moans and strained grunts dance in the space between you. His tongue searches for yours, his taste immediately consuming you and clouding your thoughts. He’s intoxicating; his touch, his taste, him.

The multiple sources of stimulation have you teetering on the edge. Muffled whines disappear into Jake’s parted lips as your fingers run into his hair, gripping the roots. 

Breaking the kiss, you rest your forehead against his, your breathing heavy. 

“Keep going—I’m about to come.” You gasp, and Jake grins. 

“Me too, fuck—“ He grits between clenched teeth, “I’m right there with you.”

His thrusts become sloppier, uncalculated, and deep. A string of cries releases from you, your jaw agape as your eyes look up at Jake. He looks otherworldly—his brows gently furrowed, his lips plump and parted, and he’s whispering mindless phrases, reminiscent of come on, almost there, please…

“More…” You whimper.

Of what? You’re unsure, but your climax teases you, and you writhe uncomfortably. 

“Okay, baby, hold on.” He grunts. One of his hands leaves beside your head, and reaches below. You feel him unhook one of your legs from his waist, and push it open, pinning it down so you’re spread wider. 

He’s given more space to move, his hips drawing back further before pounding back into you, creating a sound that echoes in his room. You cry out.

Not enough.

“Touch yourself.” He orders, maintaining eye contact, prompting you to do whatever he tells you to. 

The one hand on his back slides down, entering the narrow space between you both, gliding along your lower belly before inching toward your spread cunt. 

Jake’s cock pumps into you roughly, and you finally catch a glimpse when you look down. The sight arouses you, watching his cock bury itself deep inside of you. 

Your fingers come closer to the aching bundle of nerves, and you nearly curl around Jake when the tips of your fingers brush against your clit. 

“Oh, my God…” Your fingers continue their motion, rubbing uneven circles around the sensitive bud. 

“Just like that… Good girl.” Jake praises, “Make yourself finish.”

“Fuck, Jake.” Your eyes squeeze shut, overstimulated. 

“Look at me when you come.” He demands, his voice powerful and low. 

Opening your eyes, you're met with pure focus and a clenched jaw. Jake isn’t far behind, likely waiting for you to cross the finish line before he can. He nearly keels over at the thought of feeling you come all over his cock. 

“Jake, I’m gonna— fuck!”

It’s as powerful as the first one, if not more. You lose all control of your body, your senses. Legs shake uncontrollably as desperate cries are pried from you. Your fingers tighten their hold on Jake’s hair, certainly causing him some pain. 

Any previous thoughts are gone, being consumed by the overwhelming feeling of your second climax. Raspy gasps pierce your lungs as your cunt frantically trembles around Jake’s cock, releasing slick all over him, and spilling out at the edges. 

You’re looking at him, but you don’t see him. Your vision has gone hazy to the point of nearly seeing stars. 

You’re pulled back, however, when a choked noise emits from Jake’s throat, his eyes widening and jaw falling slack. His hips sputter and abdomen clenches, his thrusts becoming jagged and spasming. 

“Holy shit… there’s so much…” He groans, letting his head fall forward into your shoulder. 

He prolongs his orgasm, slowing his hips down to grind into you deeply, thoroughly, milking every last drop of cum into the condom. Your clit pulses against your fingertips, and you press down slightly to draw any last wave of release out. 

He slowly comes to a stop, and silence overcomes you, moans and grunts transitioning to deep breaths and heavy sighs. His body is flush against yours, pinning your arm between you both. A moment passes where you both lie still, listening to each other breathe, your bare chests pushing against the other. 

“Jake…”

“Hm?” He muffles into your shoulder.

“You’re suffocating me.” You groan, finally acknowledging his dead weight. 

“Sorry.” He mutters, lifting himself using both arms. A tired smile is plastered on his lips, and he looks content. “I’m going to pull out now.” He warns.

You carefully nod, bracing yourself. Slowly, he pulls his hips back, and a small noise of protest leaves you both. The head of his cock is pulled out of you, and you blow out a shaky breath, feeling a muted ache replace him in your core. 

“Does it hurt?” Jake pries, noticing the brief look of discomfort flash across your features. 

“Only a little.” You admit, your legs close when Jake backs off the bed, making sure to cover you with a thin blanket. “Where are you going?” You prop yourself up on your elbows.

“I’ll be right back.” He chuckles, quickly pulling his boxers back on and rushing out of the room. 

You quirk a brow, listening to the faint noises of rustling—presumably discarding the used condom—and running water coming from the bathroom across the hall. Jake’s quick to return, holding a damp washcloth in his hand and a proud smirk on his lips. 

“What’s that for?” You ask curiously.

“You.” He snickers, coming toward the bed and removing the blanket from you, “Open your legs.”

“Alright…” You spread your legs, quietly wincing when the subtle pain is amplified by the movement. 

Jake gets back on the bed, kneeling between your open legs. He quickly licks his lips, blinking rapidly to draw his attention back to what he intends to do, not what he wants to do. 

He fumbles with the washcloth between his hands, bundling it up and carefully bringing it to your cunt. You suck in a sharp breath when the cold, rough material gently drags along your folds.

“Sorry, it's cold.” He chuckles, his eyes flicking up to you, “It’ll help with the pain.”

You nod, letting him continue his work on you. He meticulously cleans up your release, and your eyes widen when a hint of red is mixed with it. 

“Is that…?” You can’t seem to finish your words.

“Yes, but it’s okay,” he assures you, folding the washcloth within itself to hide the tinge of red on the fabric, “it’s totally normal.” 

“Okay…” You believe him, knowing he’s experienced this before, you’re sure.

“Here. Let’s put these on.” He reaches beside you, grabbing your underwear and shirt. His movements are slow, calming. 

He helps you put your underwear on, dragging the flimsy material up your legs, stretching around your thighs, and over your hips. Your cunt is sensitive to the lacy material, feeling nearly raw against it. Next, he puts your shirt over you, letting you push your arms through the holes and allowing the material to blanket over your abdomen. 

Jake stops there, and you expect to put your leggings back on and leave, acting like this never happened, just as you intended. Instead, he moves over, shifting to be beside you and lying next to you. 

He’s still in his boxers, his erection softened, and the rest bare to you. 

“What are you doing?” You question, skeptical. 

“Aftercare.” He states, like you’re supposed to know. “Come here.” He demands, holding his arms open and flexing his hands in a grabby motion. 

You fight a smile, rolling your eyes and repositioning yourself to face away from him. You back into him, hearing a strained noise when your ass nudges into his hips. 

“Sorry.” You mumble, resting your head on the pillows, feeling one of his hands wrap around your waist. His hand spreads across your stomach, pulling you into him. 

“How do you feel?” He whispers into your hair.

“The same…” You think, looking ahead of you, “But different.” 

He hums, “How was it?”

“I enjoyed it… a lot.” You confess, turning over to face him, to find him smiling. “How was it for you?” 

Your name is whispered from his lips, and his expression hardens, “That was…” He pauses, finding his words, “Unlike anything I’ve felt before. It was amazing—you’re amazing.”

“Oh, please.” You giggle, almost snorting, “You’re just saying that. You think sex is alright.”

“I’m serious.” He argues, and it draws your attention, “That was incredible.” 

“Jake…” You trail off, your brows upturned. His hand snakes onto your waist, gripping the soft flesh gently. You’re unsure what to say, feeling as though he’s confessed a deep, hidden thought. 

“It’s okay.” His lips twitch, his teeth flashing, “You just let me know if you want to make it a two-time thing.” 

Tags:

[codfxrn]

SOAKED; LEWIS PULLMAN

Author notes:

Hi, this is a direct translation of my fic SOAKED; Lewis Pullman from Spanish to English. So if you see a Spanish version, that was me. This is just to reach more people.

Sorry if there are any mistakes in grammar or the story, I’m using a translator

Warnings: Explicit content, that’s all.

FRAT LEWIS X READER

The music pounded against the walls, the heat and sweaty bodies feeding that raw sensation of need, or maybe it was just the alcohol running through her veins.

She could see them, students who seemed so politically correct breaking apart with just a few drinks, maybe gallons of alcohol, drinking like there was no tomorrow and aching to fuck like they were virgins on the brink of decay. And she couldn’t blame them. She was exactly the same.

"Are you enjoying the party?" a voice asked behind her. Instinctively, she turned toward the voice before meeting his face.

"I’ve been to better ones," she answered, her tone flat and serious.

He laughed, not the same laugh she’d heard echoing down the hallways. It was that disguised kind of laugh, a camouflage for a bruised ego.

"Are you here looking for something? Maybe sex?"

For the first time, she looked him straight in the eyes, as if his question had been offensive enough to earn it. Lewis laughed again.

"Relax," he said casually. "Sometimes it’s good to find a hobby. Someone who can please you whenever you want."

She only shot him a cold look.

She’d known Lewis for as long as she could remember. Their mothers had become best friends, and when they got pregnant at the same time, they wished their kids would grow up inseparable, just like them. And for years, they were. They shared birthdays, vacations, afternoons playing in the yard while their parents laughed in the kitchen, joking about some uncertain future that always included them.

He protected her, she sought him out, everything felt simple, natural, inevitable. Until they turned fifteen. Until, without any explanation, Lewis stopped talking to her. There wasn’t a fight, no cruel comment or stupid argument, just a sudden, dry silence, as if he’d decided overnight to erase everything they’d been. She pretended it didn’t hurt, pretended not to notice, pretended it didn’t matter. But it did, more than she was willing to admit now.

He stopped replying to her messages, stopped waiting for her after class, stopped inviting her over like he used to. She looked for reasons, flaws in herself, wondered if she’d said something wrong, if she’d crossed some invisible line. Because back then, she’d started to notice things she shouldn’t notice. The way he looked in uniform with his sleeves rolled up, how his hair would mess up when he ran, his voice, how sometimes it sounded deeper, closer.

And though she had no proof, part of her believed, or wanted to believe, that maybe he’d felt it too. That shift, that tension that moves in without asking. But if he did, why pull away? Why destroy something so easy to keep? She never found out. She never dared to ask. And he never explained. He just became distant, like having her close was dangerous, like he was running from her, like she was the danger.

Now, years later, he was right in front of her. Laughing awkwardly, looking at her like he didn’t really know how to hold her gaze. And all she could think about was everything they’d never said.

"If Tamara heard you…" she started, and Lewis gave her a mocking look.

"What, you gonna tell on me? We twelve now?" he shot back, dripping sarcasm.

She rolled her eyes and looked over at a couple practically devouring each other. The repulsive way they seemed to need each other, and there she was, watching like some pervert, painfully inexperienced.

"Have you never felt that?"

She frowned, and Lewis looked entertained by how easily he could get under her skin. Still, he couldn’t help but notice the way her body reacted. She didn’t answer. She just looked away, but for some reason, Lewis couldn’t stop watching her, ever since he’d asked that question, it wouldn’t leave his head. Admiring her felt like a crime, one he desperately wanted to commit without consequence. He swallowed hard, feeling a strange heat crawl from his neck down his spine. His eyes landed on hers, uneasy, scanning the chaos around her, like she didn’t belong in this vulgar mess of college kids.

Then, his gaze dropped to her lips. Soft and pink, exactly like he’d imagined when a couple of his friends whispered that she kissed too well. Slowly, his eyes traveled down to her neck. He could count how many times she’d swallowed, how many times she’d taken a breath. Lewis ran his tongue over his lips, like it could somehow scrape away the thoughts that tormented him.

"Hey, Lew!" a couple of guys called out, voices loud with drunk excitement. He nodded, smiling, like they’d just handed him an escape.

"No, don’t even think about it," he muttered, but it was too late. Both guys dumped a bucket of beer over Lewis, not caring that she was standing right next to him. "Shit!" he cursed, furious. Those idiots had zero aim, probably the alcohol, because they’d managed to soak her too.

Lewis looked at her, whether he meant to or not, he didn’t know, but seeing how her clothes clung to her, practically molding to her body like a second skin, knocked the air out of his lungs. The cheers and whistles that erupted didn’t help. Lewis didn’t let it go any further, he grabbed her hand and pulled her toward his room. The murmurs followed them, especially when Lewis rested his warm hand on the curve of her back.

She gasped, so soft it got swallowed up by the noise and music, but his hand stayed where it was, like he needed that point of contact. A couple stumbled in front of them, too busy devouring each other to notice they were in the way. She blushed, and Lewis could feel the alcohol starting to kick in for real.

"Sorry, guys, but this is my room," he said when he saw the couple gripping the doorknob, trying to get inside in a rush. "You’ll have to find somewhere else," he added coolly. They were too absorbed to hear him, but Lewis’s sharp stare was enough to send them running. "Gotta make sure nobody defiles my bed," he said.

She laughed, and for the first time, Lewis truly enjoyed the sound of her laugh, the way her cheeks flushed, how her lips tugged at each other again and again, how her eyes blinked open and closed like rose petals drifting down in slow motion.

Without another word, he guided her inside. Lewis stayed by the door as she took in his room. It smelled like fresh wood and faint hints of lavender, too gentle for someone like Lewis. The walls were painted a light color, letting the light reach every corner. A shelf overflowed with books, classics, theater theory, literary criticism, and more. His desk was a mess, like always since he was a teenager.

"'The Story of O?'" she murmured, brushing her fingers over the cover. "What’s it about?"

Lewis stared at her, confused, then blushed a little as he handed her a T-shirt. Maybe he was drunk enough, or maybe seeing her from this close up made a thousand incoherent thoughts swirl in his head.

"It’s just…" he stammered, "a book I found at the library."

"Submission? Wow, I didn’t think you liked reading that kind of thing," she said, incredulous. "'Actually… if you tie her up and she starts to like it, that’s no good either. You have to go past pleasure, all the way to tears.'"

For some reason, those words hit Lewis hard. Maybe it was her tone, the closeness, or the light in the room, but he couldn’t stop staring at her, feeling his body tighten, his skin prickle, his heartbeat syncing to the sound of her voice.

"What the hell do you read, Lewis?" she teased, laughing, and that laugh lifted something heavy off his chest that he didn’t even know he’d been carrying.

"Maybe you should get changed. You can use my bathroom. I’ll stay here."

She didn’t say anything, just nodded, left the book on the desk, and headed for the bathroom. Lewis muttered a string of curses, her voice echoing in his head like a curse of its own.

"Fuck…" he breathed, brushing his fingers over the book’s cover like he was trying to remember her touch, or pretending her fingers were on him instead. "You’re not a goddamn teenager, Lewis," he whispered to himself, biting his lip as the tightness in his jeans pulsed insistently.

He closed his eyes slowly, but all he could replay was her voice, the way the words curled around her lips, the way her breath caught on certain phrases. Lewis was screwed, there was no fixing what he’d spent years trying to rebuild. That invisible wall to keep from needing her, wanting her, craving her.

The door opened just a crack, and that shy look settled back over her as she realized his shirt still smelled like him, and barely covered what it had to. Under any other circumstance, she would’ve begged for a pair of jeans, but now she felt stripped bare, exposed in every way. She was ready to speak, to thank him, to ask for something else to wear, but seeing him with his back turned, shirtless, stopped her cold. It was better than the dream she’d had three summers ago.

The way his body flexed, his broad back carved with muscle, perfectly natural on him.

Lewis always wore slightly loose clothes, she’d never imagined he was hiding that under his shirt.

"Lewis…" she whispered under her breath. Wishing he wouldn’t even hear it. However. It was even worse. The way his torso turned to her. His toned chest and well-defined abs made her swallow hard for the tenth time that night. "Could you lend me some pants to sleep in? I don’t think it’s wise to go downstairs wearing just a shirt."

It was at that exact moment Lewis’s eyes landed on the fold of her shirt. He shook his head awkwardly. First nodding then shaking it. The tension could be cut with a knife. Lewis swallowed. Trying not to look at her but failing the moment their hands brushed.

She took the garment. Whispering a "thanks" that was lost between them. And Lewis failed again. This time with no restraint at all. Before she could move. Lewis trapped her in his hands. He slowly caressed her cheek. As if he adored looking at her. As if it were the first time he really did. And without warning. His lips touched hers. Soft. Gentle. Like he didn’t want to break the moment.

His hands settled on her waist. Digging his fingers under her shirt and feeling her skin burn under his touch. The lack of air stopped them. Leaving them stunned by what had just happened. And as if reality had the power to hit him. He backed away in fear. Like he’d committed the worst of crimes.

"I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…" he murmured awkwardly. However. She was the one who closed the distance and kissed him again.

Lewis’s hands made their way as if that closeness could shut off his own switches and let out what he’d kept inside for so long. She placed her hands on his neck. Moaning slightly at the feel of his nearness.

Lewis smiled before urging her to wrap her legs around his waist. He could feel the soft texture. Her skin fitting perfectly against his. He planted wet kisses around her face. Her lips and neck. Like it was his favorite routine.

He groaned before losing balance. Especially when her hands roamed his torso until resting on his belt buckle.

"You’re going to kill me." he murmured. Kissing her like his life depended on it.

She smiled when she felt Lewis toss his things to the floor. Clearing most of the desk.

"I always wanted to do this." she whispered. Gently caressing his thighs and watching his face tighten at her perfectly calculated touch."You’re perfect. Too good for me…" he confessed before tracing a couple of fingers from her jawline down. Pulling her closer to him.

His hands were skilled. Almost trained to make her crumble with just a touch. He didn’t have to say a word. His breathing gave him away before his hands did. With a light touch. He brushed a strand of hair from her face. His fingers trembled slightly. As if asking permission at every step.

"Tell me it’s okay." he murmured so low it was barely heard. She nodded. And that was enough.

She could have pulled back. Told him no. That it was too soon. That his distance still hurt. But she didn’t. Because that night. For once. She didn’t want to think. She wanted to feel. And Lewis was the only way she knew how.

The kiss didn’t come all at once. It formed at the corner of her lips. Soft. Patient. Almost heavenly. She was the one who opened her mouth first. Letting out a sigh he silenced with the tip of his tongue as he clung to her body. His obedient hands guided themselves over the fabric. The tension disappeared completely. Especially when the belt buckle finally gave way.

Lewis caressed her face tenderly. Like someone caring for something he didn’t want to break.

His eyes burned with a desire as hot as the sun. But he didn’t stop looking at her. Like he didn’t care if the world burned. He could only admire her. So weak. So his.

A couple of fingers brushed her lips. Letting themselves get lost in the softness and warmth they gave off. Before soaking in his own need.

She stared at him wide-eyed. Not speaking but her body spoke for her. Her cheeks flushed. Her breathing ragged. She desperately needed him to fill her.

He took one last look. As if asking permission for something that had been agreed from the start. And carefully slid two fingers inside her. She tightened against his body. While Lewis welcomed her gladly. Listening to her moan into his ear to the point of falling apart.

"Just like that, baby. You take me so well…" he breathed. His voice broken. Yet his fingers moved inside her walls. Soaking in the desire he’d stirred in her.

His free hand roamed her body until settling around her neck. Squeezing lightly. Not hurting her. But letting her know she’d unconsciously signed up to be his.

"I need you." she murmured. As if it were her final breath.

Lewis smiled before slipping out. His soaked fingers glistened in the light. And shamelessly. Without warning. He tasted them.

"So sweet…" he confessed before grabbing her by the waist and pulling her close. "Just look at me, baby. I’ll make you feel so good…"

The impact of his words shattered that final barrier. She collapsed against him when she felt him slide inside her.

"Fuck…" he murmured clumsily. As her whimpers clung to his skin. The way his body claimed her. Lecherous and intimate. Made him lose himself in a limbo of pleasure.

Her hands clutched at his back. Clawing slightly. Because she seemed drunk on Lewis’s attention. Never able to get enough.

Lewis kissed her. Leaving tiny marks. Almost invisible but not to them. He loved to see her skin flushed. And she didn’t mind. And that was enough.

He looked at her before sliding a couple of fingers against her sweet spot. Watching her throw her head back as he thrust into her made him feel unworthy of it. But he could never erase that image from his mind. Hearing her moan. Close her eyes and bite her lip. That would be a crime.

When she moaned. Even louder than before. He knew. Without wasting time. He grabbed her waist. Hitting just the right spot. The heat rose. Their gasps loud enough to drown in the music. Lewis watched her rock against him. Like it was the best unseen show.

His hands roamed her body. As if it could ease the fire inside him. Lewis accepted it but lost himself when he felt her soft lips on his chest. Slowly guiding towards his neck. She heard him gasp. His brow furrowed repeatedly as that whirlpool took over inside her.

"Please…" she murmured breathlessly before tightening around him. Lewis moaned. Eyes shut at her action. Not without paying attention to the way she fell apart.

"It’s okay. Take me, baby. I’ve waited an eternity for you." he confessed without filter before they both reached their peak.

"What did you say?" she asked. Stunned. As if her mind couldn’t process his words through the haze of pleasure.

"I’ve loved you since I was fifteen. And I know I was an idiot. But, baby. There’s something about you that drives me crazy." he sighed. "I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. Even when all I want is for you to be on top of me."

[z0mbi-grl0]

𝒴ℯ𝒶𝒽 ℬℴ𝓎 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒟ℴ𝓁𝓁 ℱ𝒶𝒸ℯ

۶ৎ

How Eren Yeager acts pre-relationship:3

ℰ𝓇ℯ𝓃 𝒴ℯ𝒶𝑔ℯ𝓇 #boybsffinalboss #wannabenonchalantdreadhead

✦—Eren wouldn’t try to be the most obvious with his adoration for you.

✦—he would start off as a good friend of yours. Someone you just happened to meet by being friends with some of his friends.

✦—He’d act like you annoy him — always rolling his eyes when you talk, but secretly memorizing everything you say

✦— He teases you constantly: “Why do you always sound like that?” or “You’re actually the dumbest person I know.”

✦—glares when you talk to other guys, but if someone flirts with you? He’s suddenly right there, asking if you need to leave.

✦—Calls you nicknames that are slightly mean but weirdly affectionate, like “idiot,” or “dumbass,” but the tone is soft.

✦— Gets so smug when he makes you flustered

✦—If you’re ever upset, he’s suddenly 100% serious: no teasing, no sarcasm. Just, “Who hurt you?”

✦—Shares his food with you but acts like he’s annoyed about it: “Fine. Here. Don’t make it a big deal.”

✦— Talks about you constantly to Armin and Mikasa — pretends he’s “just ranting” but they both know he’s obsessed.

✦— You catch him staring all the time — but when you ask him why, he just shrugs and says, “You had something on your face.”

✦—If you touch him, even casually, he gets SO still. Like a dog who doesn’t want to scare away a butterfly.

✦— He’d never admit it, but he gets genuinely offended when you don’t text him back fast. Pretends it doesn’t bother him.

✦— waits for you after class or meetings — doesn’t ask, just shows up and walks beside you in silence like it’s routine.

✦— When you call him out on being mean, he’ll go quiet and just mutter, “…you’re not actually hurt, right?”

✦—He knows your coffee order, your favorite songs, what makes you cry — and he holds that info close like it’s sacred.

✦—He gets jealous when you talk about your type — especially if it doesn’t sound like him. “That’s what you’re into? Really?”

✦—The day he finally gets too soft and says something sweet by accident? He shuts down for the next 3 hours from sheer embarrassment

[pengningie]

my angel ଓ | k. kh

disclaimer: first work! there has to be a kai drought on moablr or something so…stepping up now…not proofread and really rushed and weak plot but enjoy!

wc: 5.5k~ pairing: kai x reader (f!reader)

warnings: smut, pining, bsfs to lovers, kissing & touching, praise, light marking, not rlly implied protection (stay safe!), slight size kink, crying (from pleasure), fluff into filth

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5:30 A.M. Monday, July 14.

You groaned in exhaustion, reluctantly getting up from your bed as the alarm your mom had gifted you before you went off for college rang. “Without it, how will you make it to anywhere on time?” Whatever, you had never been a punctual person anyway.

You went through the motions for the morning before heading out of your cramped dorm. The morning sun shone down on you as it greeted you awake. You supposed it was better than taking a day or night class, as you would’ve felt even lazier and more reluctant to leave, right?

After trudging through the sidewalk, you finally arrived at the bus stop, which had been meticulously placed not so far from the housing areas to transport students to the campus. Your backpack was slung lazily over one arm as you reached up to click your headphones on and scrolled through social media on your phone.

You watched a video of a girl about your age dining at a cute café nearby. Maybe you should check it out? You looked up briefly to check if the bus was nearing, only to be met with a Greek god—no, angel—running toward you.

You blinked a few times. Am I dreaming? You scrambled to remove your headphones, letting them rest around your neck as you took in the view.

The so-called angel stopped just a few feet in front of you, stepping aside awkwardly to stand beside you. He was panting softly—not hard, but just loud enough for you to hear.

You gave him a sidelong glance as you swallowed thickly. You can do it. Your social life is shitty anyway.

As you turned to face him, his gaze met yours. And… wow. His face was sculpted beautifully, with moles scattered across his skin like fairy dust. The corners of his lips twitched up into a small and polite smile, and so you took your chance.

“…Hi! I haven’t seen you around before. Are you new?”

He blinked a few times, obviously taken aback, before laughing softly.

“Um, actually, no. I’ve seen you around though.” He smiled.

You swore your heart just stopped at the sight of him. Wait—he’s seen you around?!

“Really? Well, nice to finally meet you, I guess?” you said awkwardly, giving a sheepish smile and extending your hand out to him. “I’m Y/N.”

He smiled and took your hand. “Nice to meet you.”

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That day had been the kickstart to your totally awesome, totally amazing, incredible and wonderful college life. Or at least, according to Kai.

You looked up at the boy who was currently across from you, scarfing down the cafeteria eggs. You scrunched up your nose, grimacing at the sight of them.

“Seriously? I mean, I get you like eggs and all…but those are like the cheap ones that you just pour out and scramble,” you muttered as you took a bite of your own breakfast, perfected after months of finding the more edible options. He looked up at you and shrugged, his platinum hair falling over his eyes as he turned his attention back to his plate.

“Food is food. And all eggs are good! I don’t think they taste weird… you’re just being dramatic.” He retorted with a small smile. You simply rolled your eyes, resting your face on your palm as you watched him practically devour his food.

“Just hurry up. We still have to study for our exams.”

He swallowed his food, washing it down with a glass of cranberry juice.

“Can’t we just do it later? Maybe at my dorm?”

Your lips parted slightly, your brows furrowed as you contemplated his request. Spending hours alone with Kai—the guy who’s ridiculously known around campus for his looks, yet completely oblivious to the fact. The guy who makes your heart flutter when he just so much as looks at you.

You mentally kicked yourself for overthinking the situation. After all, it’s just your best friend. You nodded with a small smile.

“Okay then.”

He playfully cheered and finished the last of his eggs, stacking his and your plates carefully as you both got up to leave.

“Let’s head to the library first to grab some extra materials and then go to my place?” he said gently, looking down at you with his honey eyes.

Oh, they were so beautiful.

You sputtered slightly, sighing internally.

“Yeah! That sounds great, actually.”

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You weren’t sure when it all started—the whole predicament of you falling for your friend, only friend if you may.

Maybe it was because you two were always together, attached at the hip. Or maybe it was how caring he was with you, always being there for you at your lowest, and at your happiest.

Maybe it was also just his lingering touches, the innocent ones that you wished would extend into something further.

Either way, you were head over heels for him, and you were sure of it.

But Kai was a painfully oblivious person. Not stupid, nor dense—just oblivious. After all, being kind was just in his nature! Always the sweetest, thinking that the most romantic gestures he would do were something normal.

You frowned, looking up at the taller boy’s broad back.

“Kai,” you said softly.

He paused in his tracks, turning to you with books in hand from the library trip you both went on earlier.

“Yeah?”

You took a moment to appreciate his features and broad yet delicate body, smiling softly.

“Nothing. You were just walking too fast.”

His brows furrowed slightly as he stepped beside you.

“Oh! I’m sorry,” he mumbled quietly as he fell into step beside you, both of you continuing to walk to his dorm, opting to take the ‘scenic route’ only because the buses were delayed today.

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This could’ve gone worse, you thought.

You looked down at your lap, his platinum hair ruffled and messy as he had made himself comfortable after a long study session. You exhaled shakily, leaning back on your hands.

Hesitantly, you reached a hand out, running your fingers through his hair delicately. It was soft—the silky strands lacing through your fingers.

You jolted slightly as he shifted, turning to look up at you with a sleepy smile.

“Y/N, what’re you doing?” he teased lightly.

You cleared your throat, smiling back.

“Taking care of my friend. What else?”

He hummed softly, sitting up properly.

His room was cozy, the two of you on a small rug placed in front of his bed (nearly taken over with his plushies), his walls plastered with posters and adorned with shelves of manga and trinkets.

You both fell into comfortable silence, his gaze boring into yours.

“What is it, Kai?” you asked quietly, your breath hitching as he slowly moved closer to you on the rug.

He stayed silent, his hand reaching out to cup your face as he caressed it delicately, almost reverently.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N. I like you—no, I love you. I’ve always known I had. Since I saw you, y’know? When you first talked to me…I…I was elated.” He laughed shyly.

A soft, “Oh” left your lips at his words.

Your mind scrambled to catch up to the overload of information, your face flushing as it finally did.

“I like you too, Kai. A lot.”

He grinned widely and tilted his head slightly.

“Really? Gosh. Can I kiss you?”

You nodded, and before you could register anything else, you felt a soft pair of lips on your own, gently kissing you.

Is this what heaven feels like?

You sighed softly against his lips, his hand moving to rest behind your head as you sat back against the frame of his bed, his nose tickling your cheek slightly as he gently coaxed your mouth open, deepening the kiss.

You whimpered softly, your hands weakly clutching at the fabric of his shirt. He pulled away reluctantly, the both of you panting softly.

You suddenly felt small under his gaze, his usually warm eyes darkening with something deeper.

“Y/N, please. I know this is fast but—but, I need you. So badly. Please? I’ll make you feel so, so, so good. You’ll love it.”

You nodded hastily. After all, who were you to turn down such an opportunity?

He immediately crashed his lips onto yours again, trailing kisses down your jaw to your neck, leaving small marks behind. He smiled in satisfaction as he pulled away to admire the hickeys blooming on your skin.

“Can I touch you?” he whispered quietly.

You nodded quickly, urging him to do so.

He sighed softly, reaching up to knead your breast.

“So pretty. Always so nice to me.”

His hands trailed down to the waistband of your sweats, his eyes flitting up at you as if asking for permission.

You nodded with a small smile.

“Please, Kai. I trust you.”

He nodded, gently tugging at your sweats, groaning quietly at the sight of you in just a loose shirt and panties.

“Oh gosh, Y/N. I… can I remove your shirt too?”

You grinned slightly, stifling a giggle.

“I said I trust you. Don’t worry, okay?”

His face flushed with embarrassment as he made quick work of removing your shirt as well as his own clothes, leaving both of you clad in your undergarments.

“You’re so beautiful, Kai.”

He laughed softly.

“Beautiful? Not handsome? Maybe even sexy? Or hot?”

You smiled slightly.

“You know what I mean. You are, but you’re so beautiful too. You look like an angel.”

His face softened, and he leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to your forehead.

“Oh… you too.”

He shyly helped you up onto the bed, adjusting the pillow under your head.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked softly. “I don’t want you to feel forced or anything! Just wanna make sure you want this as much as I do.”

You met his worried gaze, smiling softly as you interlocked your fingers with his.

“I’m sure.”

With that, he carefully removed your panties, groaning at the sight of your weeping core.

“F-fuck… so wet. All for me, right?” He pressed his thumb to your clit, circling it gently.

You nodded quickly, your head falling back against the pillow as your mouth fell open in a silent moan.

His eyes drank in your every expression, practically feeding on them.

He pulled his hand away, leaving you aching for more before freeing his aching length, which you hadn’t noticed he’d been subtly hiding.

Huge was an understatement.

You swallowed nervously, your voice meek.

“Kai. Um, I honestly don’t think it’ll… er, y’know… fit.”

He frowned.

“Then I’ll make it fit. No biggie!”

Before you could respond, he slammed into you with one hard thrust.

You let out a high whine, tears pricking at your eyes from the stretch.

As the pain subsided and pleasure took over, you were left dumb on his length.

“H-hnng… Kai!”

He smiled softly, brows furrowed in pleasure as he started peppering kisses all over your body.

“Shh, you’re fine. Just wanna make you feel good, ‘kay?” He grunted between thrusts, slowly rocking his hips into you.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his arms wrapping around you.

“Love you so much, Y/N. More than you can imagine.”

You whimpered softly, weak legs wrapping around his waist as your arms looped around his neck.

When did you get so sentimental? His sweet words, the way he so carefully made love to you—maybe it was just him.

“I love you too, Kai. I-I’m close!”

His breath hitched slightly as he increased the pace of his thrusts, one hand reaching down to rub at your clit.

“C’mon, angel. Let go for me. I’m s-so close too.”

You stiffened up and shuddered, crying out softly as you came on his length.

He hastily pulled out after a short while, whimpering as he quickly pumped himself, emptying onto your stomach.

With a satisfied sigh, he fell forward onto you, laughing as you groaned weakly in protest.

He pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder, humming contently.

“I love you, my angel.”

[kawaiislutt]

Sex After Physics

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ (࣪𝙉𝙚𝙧𝙙 𝙏𝙪𝙠𝙪𝙣𝙤 𝙔𝙪𝙨𝙝𝙞) 𝙭 𝙋𝙤𝙥𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙧 𝙁𝙚𝙢! 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧. ⋆˚࿔ 𝙉𝙎𝙁𝙒/18+ 𝘾𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙜𝙚 𝘼𝙪.

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: You’ve had your sights on Tukuno Yushi, for quite some time now. It was the way he radiated purity, and everything about him screamed innocent and untouched. You’ve always loved, and cherished beautiful things. But you love breaking them more.

𝘾𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣/𝙎𝙢𝙪𝙩 𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: explicit scenes, loss of virginity, unprotected sex (but they do attempt to use a condom), creampie, oral (f receiving), fingering, cowgirl position, sub yushi, switch reader, etc.

The sound of pens and pencils, scribbling across pieces of paper, and Mr Smith’s annoying squeaky voice invaded the privacy of your precious eardrums. You rolled your eyes, as you listened to the middle aged man, go on and on about the scientific method behind matter and energy. You chewed and popped your pink bubble gum, your feet up on the desk like you owned the place, counting down the minutes left until this boring ass class was over.

There was only one particular thing entertaining about this class, or should you say someone…

𝙏𝙪𝙠𝙪𝙣𝙤 𝙔𝙪𝙨𝙝𝙞.

The ridiculously handsome nerd in your physics class. Yushi is always top of the class, but never interacting with other students unless he had no choice but to do so. You watched him carefully, his head deep into a his notebook book. His glasses hung low on his nose, but you could still see his pretty long eyelashes flutter, every time he blinked.

He’s so pretty, so pure, so sweet and innocent. You bit down on your long acrylic nail, as you studied his facial features, more than you studied these boring physics assignments. You watched as Yushi mumbled to himself, a habit of his, you’ve noticed overtime. Yushi must could feel your eyes on him, as he turned around slowly, catching you staring at him. You winked at him, biting your lip teasingly. Yushi eyes widened slightly, before he quickly looked away.

He could feel his heart beating out of his chest, his palms now starting to feel sweaty, he couldn’t believe he caught the most prettiest girl on campus staring at him. Yushi knew exactly who you were, I mean who wouldn’t? Your name floated around campus like butterflies in a green garden. Finally class has ended, and Yushi couldn’t be happier, he had to get away.

As he was frantically packing up his bag, he felt someone tap him on his shoulder, startling him as he turned around slowly. He felt like, the oxygen was knocked out of his lungs. Here you stood in front of him, in all your glory, your sweet perfume filling up his nostrils. You smirked at him, biting down on your bottom lip, as you twirled the ends of your hair flirtatiously.

“Yushi right?” You said, your voice soft and warm. Yushi was too busy freaking out on the inside, that he didn’t even register what you had asked him.

“H-Huh?” He stuttered, his voice shaky and panicked. You giggled at his shyness, before you leaned against his desk, your crop top riding up, showing off your curvy waist.

“Yushi. your name is Yushi right?” You repeated, tilting your head to the side slightly. Yushi gulped, before he nodded slowly, not trusting his own voice, he just knew he would make a fool out of himself.

“I’m Y/n, nice to meet you” You said, smiling softly, as you extended your hand out for him to shake. He hesitated at first, but slowly he grabbed your soft palm and shook your hand.

“Yeah I know.” He said, you finally heard his voice for the first time. His voice was low, and uniquely suited for him. To say you were addicted, you were, you couldn’t wait to see him break for you.

“I was wondering, if you could maybe help me out with studying sometime? I’m just having a really hard time understanding the assignments, Mr Smith has been throwing at us.” You said carefully, reeling him in slowly, as you put on your best innocent act, smiling friendly at him. Yushi felt his like stomach was doing somersaults, did you really just ask him to tutor you. Out of all people, you wanted him to help you study? This had to be a joke.

“M-Me?” He stuttered once again, looking around frantically, as if you were talking to someone invisible. You giggled at his antics, his face flushed red, before he looked away biting down on his bottom lip.

“You’re always top of the class, so I thought maybe i should ask the best” You said seductively, leaning closer towards him. Fuck! Did you just praise him?! You think he’s the best?! Yushi felt like the room was spinning, by how hot you were making him.

“Uh well, I mean I- yeah you can say that” He tripped over his words, fiddling with the straps on his backpack, as he tried his hardest not to make eye contact with you. You were having too much fun already, your panties already wet with your arousal, as the scent of his cologne kept fanning you in the face. He even smelled innocent, like fresh linen, and green tea.

“So what do you say? Think you can make some time for me Yuyu?” You pouted cutely, looking up at him, with those pretty little dangerous eyes, how could he ever say no. He exhaled sharply, before he gathered his thoughts, and nodded his head yes. You smiled widely, before you jumped up and hugged him, thanking him. Yushi face was beet red the whole time, you guys exchanged numbers and set a study date.

//

That night he went back to his dorm room, his cock painfully hard inside his pants. He didn’t even make up to his bed, leaning against his door, as he tugged on his cock furiously, pants and boxes pulled at his ankles. He came and came, overstimulating himself, at the thought of being able to fuck you. But he knew it was only in his imagination, you would never fuck a nerd virgin loser like him.

Or so he thought…

//

Yushi paced and paced around his dorm, nervous wasn’t even the word, he was having a full on panic attack. You were going to be at his dorm in about 30 minutes, the most popular girl on campus was about to be sharing the same space as him. He checked himself in the mirror once again, fluffing his hair, and making sure his white button down shirt was free of wrinkles.

Suddenly the sound of a knock on the door, startled him, he checked himself in the mirror one last time, before he sprinted to the door to answer it. Nothing could have prepared him for the sight of you, you dressed in a pink crop top, with a white mini skirt, paired with some white boots. He felt he couldn’t breathe, his mouth going dry, as he just stood there staring you up and down.

“Are you gonna let me in?” You giggled, your voice bringing him back to earth. He nodded frantically, before he stepped aside to let you into his dorm. You already expected Yushi to be a clean freak, his room smelled of fresh laundry, and his bed was neatly made. You couldn’t wait to fuck him right on his back, on said bed.

“You have a really nice room Yushi, it’s really clean” You said softly, dropping your bag onto the floor, as you took a seat on the edge of his bed. He shyly smiled for the first time, looking away, his ears red and face flushed.

“I don’t have a roommate, so it’s easy to maintain this place all by myself” He said real softly, almost like a whisper, as he stood awkwardly in the corner of the room. You giggled, before you got up, and pulled him down on the bed with you, sitting him right next to you. He looked at you and gulped, trying his hardest, not stare at your cleavage that threatens to spill out your top.

For a moment, you guys just stared at each other, his breath quickening, as you leaned closer to him, your lips brushing against his softly as you teased him.

“You look like you wanna kiss me right now Tukuno” You said seductively, caressing his cheek softly, as you licked his bottom lip. Yushi whimpered, feeling his composure slowly slipping away, he wanted to kiss you so badly.

“B-But we have to study” He stuttered, you rolled your eyes at his statement. Did he seriously think you came all the way over here to study? Absolutely not, you came over to ride his dick until the wheels fall off.

“Did you honestly think I was serious about studying? You really are innocent baby” You chuckled, before you climbed onto his lap, straddling him, as you stared into his pretty eyes. You could feel his thick bulge through his jeans, you started to grind down on it, moaning softly at the friction. Yushi let out a pathetic whimper, his chest rising up and down, as he unintentionally held onto your hips tighter.

“Fuck that feels so good, please” He whined, his hips bucking up, to chase after your movements. You moaned loudly, the friction of his clothed bulge rubbing against your clit. You pulled your shirt over your head, throwing it across the room, showing off your pink lace bra. Yushi moaned out loud, your perfect pair of tits turning him on like crazy, as he fought the urge to grope them.

“Don’t be shy baby boy, you can touch them” You smirked, grabbing both of his hands, and placing them on both of your boobs. He started to squeeze and play with your breast through your bra. You felt yourself getting wetter and wetter, starting to grow completely impatient.

“Jesus Christ, you have such wonderful breast, oh god, they’re so soft” Yushi cried out pathetically, as he unclasped your bra, your tits bouncing free, as he started to suck on your pretty nips. Your body jerked forward at the sudden action, moaning loudly.

“Ngh! Oh yes Yushi, suck on my pretty big tits just like that baby” You whimpered, unbuttoning his shirt, as he worked on abusing your nipples with his mouth. You couldn’t believe the body that Yushi was hiding under all his sweaters and button down shirts, his toned torso and slim waist making you drool.

You both were now naked now, and Yushi face was buried between your legs, as he ate you out messy and sloppy. Your legs kept threatening to lock around his head, the feeling of his wet tongue, licking your puffy clit had your legs shaking.

“Fuck Yushi! Y-your mouth feels so good, love your fucking tongue baby” You cried out, feeling yourself getting closer any minute now. Yushi moaned against your pussy, the vibration sending an extra shock of pleasure through your body, as you came hard all over his face. Even after you came, Yushi was still eating your pussy out, you had to push his head away from your cunt.

He looked like sinful wet dream, his glasses crocked on his face, his mouth and chin, covered in your juices, as he greedily licked his lips. You couldn’t resist, pushing him back on the bed, as you climbed on top of him, kissing him hard as you grind your bare pussy on his throbbing cock.

“Y-Y/n! P-please do something, it hurts so badly, please ride my cock” Yushi begged shamelessly, his neck flushed red and sweaty, his cock painfully hard and weeping. You grabbed his hard dick, teasing the tip of it between your folds, using your arousal as natural lubricant. Before you could sink down onto his cock, he stopped you.

“Wait! I-I think we should use a condom- not that I’m saying I don’t trust you, I just want to be safe” He blabbered, you rolled your eyes before you reached into his nightstand, taking out the foil packet. You ripped the packet opened with your teeth, before you rolled the condom onto Yushi’s cock, he whimpered at the foreign feeling.

“Are you sure about this, once I slide your dick into my pussy, there’s no going back” You said smugly, dragging your long acrylic nails down his toned chest.

“I-I’m so sure, I need it, I want you to slide my dick inside your pussy please” He said in a high pitched wrecked tone, desperation and lust, clouding his eyes. You lifted your hips, lining his cock up with your entrance, before you slowly sinked down. You let out a loud moan from the big stretch, his cock was filling you like no one else has.

Yushi on the on the other hand, was letting out a silent scream, the feeling of your tight gummy walls contracting around his cock, had him grabbing the sheets tightly until his knuckles turned white. You started to rock back and forth, slowly but steady, you couldn’t believe how fucking good his cock felt deep inside you.

“Nghhh fuckk, oh god, I-I’m inside you, m-my penis is actually inside your vagina oh my lord” He cried out, tears gathering in his waterlines, as he bucked his hips wildly and messy, completely losing himself in you. You screamed at the feeling of his dick touching your cervix, Yushi was making you feel incredible. But it wasn’t enough, you needed to feel him more, you needed to feel him raw.

You halted your movements, lifting up your hips, and snatching the condom off his dick. Yushi was too fucked out to register anything, drunk off your pussy, as drool dripped from the sides of his mouth. You sinked back down on his cock, now full on bouncing on top of him, as you rode him hard into his mattress. The sound of the bed springs creaking, and Yushi’s squeaky cries filled his dorm room, and he’s so thankful he doesn’t have a roommate.

Yushi felt like his balls were going to burst, his stomach tightened, as he tried to hold his cum in, but that was simply impossible, by how rough you were fucking him. He fucked up by looking up at you, your head thrown back, your eyes shut tightly, as you lost yourself in ecstasy. Your big fat juicy tits bouncing all in his face, the sound of your skin meeting his sent him over the rails.

“Y/n! I-I feel it, I- c-cumming, oh I can’t-“ He tried to warn you, tripping over his words, as the pleasure was too intense. He came hard with a loud pathetic cry, his body convulsing, as he shoot his load deep inside your womb. His orgasm triggered yours, the feeling is cock touching your cervix, his warm cum flooding your insides, and your puffy clit rubbing against his abs has you creaming hard around his dick.

You collapsed on top of him, the both of you panting and wheezing, from the intense highs you’ve both just reached. The room reeked of sex and perfume, your sweaty bodies sticking to each other. You felt his cock finally softening inside you, your head laying on his chest, hearing his heart beating rapidly.

“Wow, I can’t believe I just fucked Y/n L/n.” He said softly, his cheeks flushing red, as he turned back to his usual shy self. You giggled weakly, kissing him on his cheek, shifting your weight on top of him, his cock still nestled deep inside you.

“𝘿𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙬𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙜𝙤 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣?“

The End.

A/n: This is my first ever nct wish fic, also my first fic starting my new writing era. I would say I’m not too proud of this piece, I feel like I kinda lacked wiring skills on this fic, being that I haven’t written in so long! But I do hope you guys can change my perspective, and show your love and honest feedback on sex after physics! Love you all!💗💚I also didn’t proof read…

Taglist:

@i03jae @ataver @ancnymcnzjy @kolawnk @nag-rom @yushiela @bananinhazz @iseeseoulcity @feet4liferss

[worriedvision]

Letting him go (Part 2) - Phainon featuring Dr Ratio

Gender neutral reader, part 1 here. Basically it's an au not following the HSR plot, where Phainon is an academic on the same level as Dr Ratio. Happy ending for reader, not so much for Dr Ratio lmao.

--

Social media picked up on the fact the person who used to be sighted with Dr Ratio, yourself, had stopped being around him after he became a member of the genius society. When you left your apartment, you were bombarded with questions on your relation to Dr Ratio to which you say nothing. People weave stories about you being some sort of gold digger, and you being bitter that your cash cow had finally gotten to the point of respecting himself enough to leave you.

Of course, social media doesn't know he ghosted you, not did social media know you were the one who was a shoulder to cry on when he got yet another rejection. He took all the comfort you gave with no problems, other than the occasional sulking fit. Even if news reporters knew of this, however, it wouldn't be a juicy story.

You wouldn't be surprised if your ex had specifically weaved the story to make himself sound like the victim. He echoed worries about why you just left, but didn't make any corrections about gold digging.

So, you decided you were going to keep yourself away. It was during a Philosophy class you were attending that you bonded with some people. Anaxagoras teaching the thing, you sit next to a blonde muscular man with friendly blue eyes and his friend who was clearly dragged along.

You find out the man next to you is Phainon, a man who was pursuing knowledge in Philosophy.

Rather, he framed it as this but he seemed to be at the class just to refresh his memory on the topic. Mydei, his friend, rolls his eyes when his friend tries to impress you with advanced Philosophical theories and their applications.

Anaxagoras walks over, having heard Phainon, and shakes his head.

"Surely you have better things to do than revisiting a basic Philosophy course, Phainon." He tuts, glancing at you with a hint of curiosity.

"Well, I just happened to be passing by and I was interested in this person." Phainon smiles, directing his smile at you.

"And here you were saying this was for me..." Mydei crosses his arms, clearly bored out of his mind.

"..._, was it?" Phainon asks, ignoring his friends complaint. "Want to get dinner? I'll pay."

--

Over time, you get more attached to Phainon. You no longer think of your ex besides the occasional reporter firing accusations of using Dr Ratio at you. Phainon doesn't seem to know about your situation with your ex, or maybe he just didn't care.

"Phainon, could I ask you something?" You tilt your head, Phainon nodding excitedly. "Why bother with me? I'm sure news reporters and admirers of you have warned you about me."

Phainon let's out a thoughtful hum, thinking of a good response before nodding and looking at you.

"I don't believe you would be with a man like Dr Ratio for money." Phainon explains. "It's different from the you I know."

"That answers one part of the question, but why bother with me?"

"I like you." Phainon explains, no hint of malice as he lets out a sigh of relief when he admits his feelings. "Having had the time to know you more personally, it's only affirmed how attracted to you I am."

You look around for any cameras, thinking someone was waiting to tell you that you were just going to take advantage of this man.

"I'm not joking. Please, give me a chance to treat you right." Phainon smiles warmly.

Not seeing any ulterior notices from him, you nod, leading to Phainons already beaming smile to somehow grow even brighter, blinding you.

--

Turns out, Phainon was in the genius society before your ex was even considered. You only discover it when Phainon invites you to an event with the genius society. You freeze up, fearing that this was going to be a horrible nightmare scenario where your ex had convinced Phainon to drag you along to point and laugh at you.

"I'll stay by your side all night, okay? It'll just be for a meal and the induction of the newest members." Phainon promises. Hearing this, you agree and Phainon gives you an outfit complimenting the situation, and coincidentally matching the colours he was wearing.

Thinking back, you never saw your ex treat you anywhere close to this nicely. Looking at your boyfriend, you pull him in for a kiss which he very much welcomes before he takes your hand, walking towards the front door.

--

The actual event was much nicer than you thought. Everyone around you seemed to understand that Dr Ratio was the one who dumped you, and a woman mentioned that he bragged to her about baggage he didn't need, not hiding it was about you. Most of the members there had partners not part of the genius society, but they were not pushed aside. They were appalled at your exes actions, to say the least.

Phainon went to the restroom for a few minutes, which was when your ex had come along to you.

"What are you doing here?" Your ex asks. "You didn't tell me you were going to be here. I'd have saved you a spot at my table."

"Go away." You look away, Dr Ratio sitting in Phainons seat.

"...I realise I didn't treat you right. I want to smoothe things over between us, to start fresh."

You get up, already wanting to get away from the venue but Dr Ratio follows you, asking for you to hear him out. Seeing your boyfriend leaving the restroom, you walk over to him and hold his arm.

"I want to leave." You quietly say, Phainon immediately seeing the source of your discomfort.

"Oh, it's you." Phainon sighs. "I promise I'll look after your ex." He nods, whispering to you that you'll both head home in just a moment and to wait at the reception area for him.

"I'd like to thank you, Veritas." Phainon smiles. "Because of your errors, I get to treat them like royalty." He pats your ex on the back, Dr Ratio glaring daggers into Phainon before he realises that he was right.

Phainon takes the effort to be physically protective of you, especially in public. He could tell Phainon was a gentleman. He knows that he was the person responsible for this even being a scenario that could have played out, and if he treated you right in the first place he would have allowed you to flourish by his side.

But now, all he could do was stand and watch.

[4doras]

CARE FOR YOU “THEY ALWAYS WAIT FOR ME.” *ੈ✩‧₊˚  

genre. woonhak x f.reader, fluff, 1.1k 

ꕤ. ty for asteria (winteringdream) for requestinggg!! i loooove writing these sort of fics for woonhak 🤭 theyre so fun 

you’ve been friends with woonhak since primary school, and ever since then, you two have been inseparable. he, all the way from then till now, would always wait for you after school, even if you took ages. no matter how late your club ended, or however long you’d take to pack your stuff, he’d be outside your classroom, waiting for you. 

even now, all the way in college, he waits for you. 

he has your whole schedule memorized and knows where the classes are, and after every class you have, you’ll find him standing outside your lecture hall. 

and of course, all your friends just had to tease you about the sweet gesture. 

more under the cut! 

“he’s so in love with you, y/n.” leeseo said, giggling. “he waits and walks you to class even when his next lecture is across campus. i could never.” 

that was true, and occasionally, woonhak would be late for a few of his classes, but it was just something he did since the two of you became friends. it wasn’t a thing he did because he was in love, he’s been doing since you were kids. 

“it’s probably just a habit,” you shrugged it off. “he’s been doing it since we were seven.” 

to be honest, you too found it cute. you’d caught him waiting for you once, he hadn’t noticed you yet and his face was completely bored, but once he saw you? his whole body lit up – a big smile on his face, a sweet greeting, and already taking your bag off your shoulders so he’d carry it instead. maybe you liked him, maybe you just found it heart warming, but it sure didn’t help that he was good looking too. 

today was gonna be a busy day. you had no free periods to hang out with woonhak, your lunch was shortened to thirty minutes, and you had a club meeting after school that was gonna last over three hours. 

“woonhak,” you were walking to school with him, your feet dragging on the pavement in sync with his. “you shouldn’t wait for me today. actually, just don’t wait for me today.” 

he seemed upset by it, his pace slowing down a little. 

“what? why?” his voice sounded like he took it personally, and a small pout was on his lips, acting like he had done something wrong. 

“i’m gonna be really busy today, and i’m gonna be three hours, or more, late.” you gave him a soft nudge to the arm. “i don’t want you waiting that long for me, woon.” 

he didn’t say anymore, like he couldn’t accept it. a soft sigh escaped his mouth and an even quieter “fine.” 

you had no bad intention telling him this, but he seemed so bummed out, as if you banned him from waiting for you forever. it would just be one day, then tomorrow he’d see you after every class, but he acted as if he’d never be able to see you. 

“i wouldn’t be surprised if woonhak waits for you today.” leeseo teased, a grin on her face. 

you rolled your eyes at her. “i told him not to,” it had only been two periods, but you already started to miss seeing woonhak outside the door everytime. “he seemed kinda sad about it, though.” 

“of course he’s upset, y/n.” she said, brows knitted together as if you should’ve known it. “he likes you! obviously he’s gonna be sad, not being able to pick up his girlfriend.” she pinched your cheek, laughing like she was plotting something. 

“i am not his girlfriend, leeseo!” your eyes widened, pushing her arm just so she’d teeter in her chair. “he just… has a lot of free time.” truthfully, you had no clue why he was so distraught by it. and maybe leeseo was right, but that was beside the point. 

hours have passed since the end of school and all that's left in school is you and the other people in the club. you bid your friends goodbye and headed to the school gates when you spot someone standing there. 

it’s a faint shadow, a vague figure standing beneath the lamp post like they’re waiting for something or someone. 

as you get closer, you notice who it is. 

woonhak. 

you walk a little faster, wanting to meet him quicker. 

“woonhak,” you panted, trying to catch your breath. “i told you not to wait for me, i was gonna be late.” you pull your phone out of your pocket checking the time, 8:32pm. “woonhak, it’s late. let’s go.” instinctively taking his hand, but he doesn’t pull it away. 

“i couldn’t let you walk home alone, y/n.” he says cooly, holding your hand a bit tighter. “it’s dark, no one knows what could happen.” 

you repeated to yourself that it was him just looking out for you, but it didn’t help; your heart was still beating like you just ran a marathon. 

“a pretty girl like you shouldn’t walk alone.” he let go of your hand, and instead slung his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. 

“i heard you and leeseo’s conversation earlier today.” there wasn’t a readable tone in his voice. it sounded like a joke, yet confrontational at the same time, and you couldn’t tell which one he was putting forward. 

“i don’t wait for you because i have free time, y/n.” he said, letting out a low chuckle. “i like you. i’ve liked you for ages, since we met, actually. and you never realized.” woonhak stopped walking, held your shoulders and turned you to face him. “why do you think i wait for you even when my hall is on the opposite side of campus? i like you. a lot.” 

and at that moment, it felt like it was just you and woonhak on that street. even though it really was just you two. 

you opened your mouth, but nothing came out. nothing you could say would come close to what you felt, because that's when you realized: he’s never been just a friend. 

in that moment, the moment of silence, everything in your head was telling you to say something, but if not, kiss him. and so you did. 

it wasn’t anything too bold or too flashy, just a quick peck on the cheek, but it still had woonhak blushing. the red tint on his face kept growing, even after you pulled away from him. 

“i’ll take that as you like me?” his face was still getting red, and a huge smile was on his face. 

you nodded eagerly. “yeah,” you smiled with him. “i like you, woonhak.” 

you hated to admit it, but after all this time, leeseo was right.

perm taglist. @jellyouse

[ssoobunnies]

𝜗𝜚 : RUSHRUSHRUSH — karasuno first years x reader pt. two

❥ karasuno boys crushing on a ten ten baddie. not proofread. part one here.

╰ song : rush by troye sivan, pinkpantheress, hyunjin

long ahh hell too 😭 my first year goats 😭🔥 i’ve been debating whether to keep going with the scenarios where (name) has a set career path, still not sure let me know tho forealzies 🫩🔥

⭑ TSUKISHIMA KEI :

tsukishima wasn’t known for having a big appetite. he would pick at meals, ignored most of the snacks during breaks, and refused to even look at anything labeled “homemade” if it came from a classmate’s hands. his volleyball teammates knew this, yamaguchi especially knew this. so when tsukishima didn’t roll his eyes or scoff the first time (name) waltzed in with her little tupperware of sweets with a smile, humming, handing them out like life was all sunshine and rainbows—it was nothing short of suspicious. (name), a first-year, loud in all the ways that weren’t annoying. always talking about how flavor profiles could change depending on temperature, or the science behind accurate ingredient measurements when it came to baking. voice always melodic, animated. nails were always shiny and clean, her perfume a mix of vanilla and fresh fruit, and her face was pretty, pretty hard to ignore. pretty, pretty in a way that even tsukishima noticed. yet, he didn’t say much. not until she offered him an apple cinnamon cookie. he stared at it unfazed . “it won’t kill you,” she said with a teasing smile. he took it, bit into it and didn’t hate it. and that’s how it started a cookie, a tart. eventually, he stopped ignoring her and started waiting for her and whatever dessert she’d bring next, especially if it had apples in it. he would claim it wasn’t a big deal, but yamaguchi caught on when he saw tsukishima waiting until lunch to open a little wax paper bundle she had handed him that morning, savoring a spiced apple bar like it was some kind of delicacy.

“where are you getting all that stuff?” Hinata asked one day, eyeing the perfect slice of biscoff cheesecake on tsukishima’s lap. “it looks good, can i have some? just one bite!” tsukishima didn’t bother looking up, “absolutely,” hinata geeked out, “not.” hinata in-geeked and stomped his foot, “you’re evil.” yamaguchi, besties for life chimed in. “you could probably ask (name) for sweets she’s more than happy to share her love through food! she’s in the culinary club and in our class!” tsukishima slowly turned toward his best friend, brows raised, offense written all over his face.

about five minutes before practice wrapped, the gym doors creaked open and in she walked—(name), radiant even in her apron, hair pulled back, cheeks slightly pink from standing near an oven too long and in her hands: a tray lined with small bowls and containers. “hi!” she greeted, waving cheerfully. “thought i’d drop off the leftovers from today’s club experiment, save a life or two. we made a turmeric and cumin chickpea curry over saffron rice with a little twist.” the team swarmed like bees, tsukishima stayed in the back, towel around his neck, arms crossed, eyes trained on her like she was a science problem he didn’t mind studying. hinata lit up. “you made all this?” she nodded, already handing out small portions. “we were playing with layering spices today.” she glanced toward tsukishima, who just raised a brow. “you said something about balancing bitterness.” he spoke up, “ahh, you remembered!” she beamed with a hand cupping her face. tsukishima glanced off to the side. “you were talking loud enough for the whole class to remember.” she laughed, “sounds about right! cumin usually leans earthy and turmeric’s got that sharp edge, so we decided to add cardamom pods for warmth and a little citrus zest to brighten it.”

tsukishima took the bowl from her hands without protest. the scent was warm and rich, spices weaving together like a proper fraction. it was stupid how good it smelled. whilst the rest of the team moaned dramatically over how good it tasted. even kageyam let out a rare, low “this is really good,” while nishinoya and tanaka looked like he’d gone to cloud nine, yachi and kiyoko pointing their fingers at the food, “who made this?!” (name) beamed, “ahh, i’ll tell the club you guys enjoyed it!” tsukishima noted the stars in her eyes watching the team scarf down the food. finishing one by one and even some members asking for seconds, (name) packed up her containers and waved goodbye, tsukishima’s eyes lingering on her figure. everyone subtly glanced at tsukishima and the way his gaze lingered just a second too long as she walked out the gym, how his lips twitched just the slightest hint of a smile when she spoke animatedly about the spices the club had used. yamaguchi elbowed him, “didn’t know you were a fan of conversation.” his tall friend scoffed. “it was edible.” tanaka smirked. “pretty, edible.” high-fiving nishinoya who raised his brows with quickness at the tall blond. “i was talking about the food.” suga joined in the teasing “i bet you are.” the others broke into quiet snickers. tsukishma rolled his eyes at his teammates who missed the pink of his ears, maybe, just maybe, (name) was the little bit of sweetness tsukishima didn’t know he needed. not that he was ever going to admit that.

at least… not yet.

⭑ YAMAGUCHI TADASHI :

yamaguchi never really got the hype around makeup. he wasn’t against it or anything—it just wasn’t his world. he didn’t understand the concept of putting that much effort and then showing up at 9 a.m. sharp, faces already shimmering like they were headed to a runway instead of homeroom. glossy lips, winged eyeliner, sparkles that caught the sunlight like disco balls. he personally, thought it was a lot. but yet, when it came to her—his pretty, soft-spoken classmate—it wasn’t “a lot.” It was just her. the glittery blush across her cheeks. the smooth gloss that made her lips shine like clear water. the subtle scent of vanilla or rose whenever she walked past his desk. she wore glam like it was second nature, like she wasn’t trying to impress anyone, just expressing something delicate and golden that already lived inside her. yamaguchi found himself noticing. more than he’d actually like to admit. a glance that lasted half a second too long. a little smile she gave him when he was caught staring, it made his chest flutter. he wasn’t even sure when the crush started. probably at the beginning of the school year when she kneeled beside a crying first year in the hallway. the girl’s makeup had smeared from the rain and tears, mascara running down her cheeks, and everyone else had just passed by like she wasn’t even there. except her,

she had kneeled down without hesitation, wiping the girl's smudged cheeks gently with a tissue, voice soft like snow. not a single trace of annoyance, just the calm and kind within her. that was the day he realized her makeup wasn’t just “pretty.” it truly was a reflection an extension of her gentle soul who saw beauty in others even when they didn’t see it themselves. and slowly the colder months crept in, students dropping like flies becoming victim of sickness, (name) being one of them, so when she walked into class bundled up in a puffy coat, a scarf she gently folded on her desk, and a white sterile mask and not one product on her face yamaguchi did a double take. not because she looked weird, but because her skin a pale (color) due to the cloudy winter weather, a little dry from the cold, with the faintest flush on her cheeks that had nothing to do with blush. her eyelashes were long and curled possibly a tad bit of mascara. no shimmery gloss, just the natural color of her lips peeking out when she adjusted her mask to moisten them up. her eyes, usually enhanced with glitter or warm brown shadows, looked bigger somehow, raw in the most endearing way, framed by faint undereye shadows that proved she was, in fact, human. yamaguchi’s heart failed him because there right beside him was (name) looking like a straight angel, a sort of renaissance painting in physical form. he realized, that this wasn’t just a crush. it was something that had already turned into something much deeper, steady and quiet and glowing in his chest like a candle. even without her makeup, she still shined. and he liked her even more because of it.

⭑ KAGEYAMA TOBIO :

kageyama tobio: setter, a volleyball prodigy, socially awkward, but had never been the victim of a truly horrendous haircut. until yesterday it wasn’t entirely his fault. his sister was out with a cold so impulsively he decided to steer from his path and walk into a random barbershop because ‘how bad could it be?’ he walked the halls of karasuno with looks from all over. at practice: “who da fawk did your hair?” tanaka gasped at the sight of his teammate’s hair. which then turned into a small snicker, “a buzz would’ve sufficed!” kageyama ear’s blew a fuse due to embarrassment, but as if summoned—a divine intervention, (name) walked in. denim apron embroidered with her name in gold, cursive lettering. the girl kageyama had noticed since she came to watch one of their games. she was impossible to ignore so he actually sometimes wondered how he could have ever missed her. she was always done-up to perfection, hair glossy with careful curls, nails decorated with tiny floral designs, rings and bangles rested on her fingers and wrists that jingled softly when she moved, and always smelling like vanilla and something expensive. “sorry to interrupt but could i borrow little kageyama for just a second?” she looked over the coach ukai who looked slightly amused, everyone froze even tsukishima looked confused. “(name) can i be borrowed next?!” (name) waved off nishinoya with a smile which caused the boy to drop.

“come with me,” she said softly, to the still frozen boy, “please?” it all happened so fast, one second he was lowkey getting roasted, the next he was seated in a rolling chair, a soft cape around his shoulders, and her fingers combing gently through his hair as she muttered things like “criminal,” and “bless whoever gave you this because they need a license revoked.” a soft mutter escaped his lips, “i just needed it shorter.” with pink ears, “you poor thing.” she genuinely sounded sad, her bangles making sounds against his ears, her nimble fingers using pink clips to section his hair, her minty breath causing small bumps to flourish. “well,” she smiled, getting to work, “lucky for you, i love fixing bad cuts. it’s kind of my thing, i want to pursue this after graduation. cosmetology school, hair design, editorial stuff. ugh, i could talk about it all day! but what about you? you’re crazy good a volleyball i was at the most recent home game, may you successfully get a scholarship or go pro.” kageyama blinked at her through the mirror, “t-thank,” he cleared his throat, “thank you. i hope to go pro one day.” she hummed popping the small bubble she made with her gum, “you’ve got the fire, im sure you’ll get there.” his hair could blow off his head by how hot his face was.

and as she worked—delicately, skillfully, with the confidence of someone already living her dream—kageyama found his performing dives of its own. through small conversations followed by a comfortable silence. “well, i am all done, next time come to me first.” next time! he looked at the mirror, the love of his life (name) did more than good. “now go steal some hearts!” he thanked the girl with a deep bow as she dismissed him saying it was for “educational purposes,” by the time kageyama walked back to the gym he looked different clean cut, styled, still bright red in the face, but somehow more confident. “boo! special treatment!” “wow (name) sure works magic!” “wow the king’s queen pulled through.” his face only got darker in color which actually started to worry ukai. “sh-shut up!” maybe this haircut was a blessing in disguise even if it lowkey looked like he was running a 200° fever. when he would your eye in the halls of karasuno or at a match he would shyly reciprocate your much more enthusiastic wave and with a very evident blush on his face.

⭑ HINATA SHOYO :

(name) (last name), second year and head of the design and development club. a club known for its insane budget, creative freedom, and its excellent reputation. tasked with uniform alterations for the official school uniforms and commissioned custom work for athletic teams, cultural clubs, and school events. the volleyball team knew how much this meant when coach ukai and takeda mentioned their new uniforms were going to be designed by that exact club, it was a very big deal. and it seemed like the head of the design and development club wasn’t just known for her work ethic and fashion sense, she was also the beauty of the school. the kind of girl whose presence lingered in the halls long after she passed, whose curls bounced perfectly with every step, whose makeup was always subtle but flawless, and whose nails were clean and decorated with tiny designs that somehow made her seem even more untouchable. “who?” hinata blinked at nishinoya who was geeked out. nishinoya looked personally offended, “are you serious 🫩? how do you nawt know who (name) (last name) is?!”scratching the back of his neck, blush that reeked of embarrassment he replied back, “i dont really pay attention to people like that!”

the day of the fitting came, the gym doors opened, and in walked a few members from the club, rolling in racks of clothing, portfolios, and measuring tape. at the front, clipboard in hand, eyes scanning the team, glasses gently sliding down the bridge of her nose, with a professional calmness, stood her: (name) (last name). hinata’s jaw literally dropped, frozen in place. the way the light creeping through the gym windows hit her just right, hair done to perfection, skirt pressed, blazer sitting just right, and the gloss on her lips sending him into a trance. with a slight nudge from nishinoya and a “i told ya!” she cleared her throat, “okay, if you guys could line up, we will start taking your measurements.” six design and development members and twelve volleyball players. two per person, one on one and with hinata’s luck he was paired with (name). kageyama stood beside hinata eyeing his teammate, “i’ll start with shoulder width and height. kageyama please turn around and face the back wall. hinata please stand straight.” jerking upright with such an insane force he almost fell. a small smile made a way up to her face, up close, she was even more stunning. a soft shimmer on her cheeks, the sharpness of her eyeliner, the way her hair smelled like something expensive—she smelled expensive. (name) tugged the tape gently around his shoulders, so casually, like it was nothing. “relax, you’re way too tense.” scribbling down on her clipboard, she adjusted her glasses. “s-sorry! this i-is a new feeling!” with a nervous followed by soft giggles, “i need you to do a couple of movements. try jumping.” his signature vertical jump, she watched and scribbled on her clipboard. stepping forward with her measuring tape, “jump, arms up, like a spike.” he tried to perform but he was too aware of her sharp eyes on his figure. “hinata, dear,” she sighed, “i’ve seen you at your games you’re not this tense. let us try that spike again, this time like you’re actually playing. forget i am here.” easier said than done, unfortunately.

when the new uniforms arrived at the start of the week, sleek, breathable, and cut perfectly to each player’s build. the black and orange now looked sharper, more modern, and somehow made every member of the team stand taller. the design and development club had gone above and beyond, creating alternate sets—black and orange counterparts, tailored down to the smallest detail. and when (name) rolled into the gym with what looked like two hundred perfectly labeled boxes, she didn’t seem the least bit overwhelmed. calm and composed as always, she spoke in her soft, assured voice: “if you guys need anything alterations, or anything else that comes to mind please don’t hesitate. and here in these boxes are your uniforms. as our slogan goes: you feel your best when you look your best.” small details stood out immediately. the color contrast, comfort, and the embroidery. each player’s name stitched cleanly at the very edge of the jersey, quiet but meaningful. it felt like respect. admiration even. the team reeked of confidence, tsukishima smirked at the fitting and sugawara said it made him feel like a pro.

the next day after school right before practice (name)’s words echoed through hinata’s head which then a marvelous idea brewed in his head. “kageyama,” hinata said suddenly, “let’s go stop by and thank (name)!” kageyama looked over with a raised brow, “like right now?” hinata nodded, “yeah! it’ll be fast. just y’know gratitudes and whatnot!” kageyama gave a half-shrug, clearly not seeing the big deal but following anyway. the closer they got to the club hallway, the faster hinata’s heart pounded and when they reached the room the warm light pouring from inside, the faint sound of soft music spilling out, slight smell of coffee beans emitting, he stopped dead in his tracks. through the open door, (name) was in her zone, hair loosely tied up, a few strands framing her face as she leaned over a sketchbook, laughing at something one of her club members said, gesturing with a pen in hand, expression bright, surrounded by fabric swatches and open portfolios. there was a calm energy in the room that felt genuine. hinata froze, his face turning a concerning red color. clutching his shirt and looking around desperately. “what are you doing?” kageyama blinked, confused. “i-i can’t! she’s busy!” with an eyeroll kageyama spoke again, “well duh, she’s the club’s leader.” hinata slowly started creeping back down the hall, “you dragged me here, dumbass.” “i know but—argh!” eyebrows furrowed kageyama squinted at the boy, and it seemed like the more he stared at hinata the redder he looked. “wait. don’t tell me..” squeaky shoes bolted down the hall with kageyama after a couple of seconds of processing what just unfolded and with a devious smirk ran behind his partner. “shut up! kageyama stop!”

[sweet-as-kiwis]

Plus side to having a boring class that only meets once a week: I only have to sit through two hours of Bullshit once

Downsides: I FUCKING FORGOT ABOUT THE CLASS IT STARTED 40 MINUTES AGO FUCK

[lokissweater]

miss pretty

{single dad!katsuki bakugo x kindergarten teacher f!reader}

summary: katsuki bakugo has never liked mess and always made sure his son and his life reflected just that. with years worth of a sparkling clean and organized home, toys put away and not once scattered about, and a barking knack over any calls of disorder in his life— meeting you, his sons sweet and sugary kindergarten teacher who was the definition of pure and who was for some reason turning his fiery heart into complete goo— was altering his boring strict cycles of no messes around… and for the better.

warnings: cursing, FLUFFF GALORE MY GAWD??, no smut but a lil steamy something, slight angst, afab!reader, katsuki thinks you are an ANGEL, sunshine x grumpy trope, mentions of abandonment, WHOLESOME AFFF, use of y/n, all characters are aged up.

word count: 11.4k

authors note: THIS MAKES ME WANT TO BE A MOTHERRRRR omg this one is sickeningly sweet and i’ve gotten a few requests to do sunshine x grumpy with sir katsuki and i WAS ALLL OVERRR ITTT i hope i fulfilled!!! <333 THANK YOU THANK YOU AS ALWAYS FOR ALL OF YOU BEING SOOO SWEETT TO MEEE I LOVE YOUUUU MWAAAHHH :] <33333

katsuki bakugo hated messes.

“oi!” he grunted, his son’s little head turning to look at him as he munched on his gummy fruit snacks from the backseat. “you better not leave that wrapper in here. take it outside with you when i drop you off.”

“kaaayyy!” his son dragged out happily, completely unphased by his dads snappy personality as he contemplated on which color fruit gummy to eat next.

“and wash your hands too. ask your teacher.”

“mhm!” he chirped.

“and don’t be a brat. pay attention.”

“yup yup!”

and for the most part, his life reflected that almost entirely— raising his son to always clean up after himself and not make bombastic huge messes around the house, begrudgingly understanding that he’s a small growing human, that a little spill of apple juice or two is basically guaranteed… but he just hated mess, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t raise his son right to be a clean and organized man even at five years old— katsuki keeping everything in his life practically spotless.

that was of course, until he met you.

katsuki shoved through the other parents in line as he went up to the front desk in the main office with a grip on his sons little hand, not giving a damn about the glares and huffs of bewilderment he got as there was no way in hell he was gonna wait like an idiot with the rest of them.

the lady at the front desk raised a quizzical eyebrow.

“can i help—”

“where the fuck is room twenty four.”

her eyes bulged open as the rest of the parents in line softly gasped and murmured.

“e—excuse me?—”

he rolled his eyes.

“room twenty four.” he pushed. “where is it?”

“sir— if you need me to help you i’d like you to wait in line until—”

“hah?! absolutely not.” he spat. “if i wait in that fucking line my son’s gonna be late why can’t you just tell me—”

“uh sir if you could—”

katsuki’s son giggled as he continued to spout profanities at the poor front desk lady.

“—sir please no foul language there are children around—”

“i don’t give a shit! just tell me where room twenty four is what the hell is so hard about that?!—”

“oh! that’s my class!”

katsuki snapped his head over, fiery red eyes shooting towards the voice until they landed on yours.

“is he one of my kids?” you smiled sweetly, eyes coming down to look at his son.

“oh—” he let his shoulders relax just a tad as he watched you fix the strap of his sons backpack on his shoulder. “i mean— if your class is twenty four—“

“it is!” you beamed, nudging your head. “i’ll show you where!”

“hiii miiiissss!” his son greeted, happy and silly as he followed you down the hall.

“hi honey!” you gushed, just as excited as he was as you patted over his blonde scruffy hair. “what’s your name?”

“milo!”

“nice to meet you milo! are you excited for your first day?”

“yeaaahh!” he cheered, smile bright as he grabbed your hand.

katsuki’s eyes widened.

“milo!” he snapped lowly. “what’d i tell ya? you can’t grab her hand like that you have to ask—”

“oh it’s alright!” you dismissed, smiling. “i don’t mind it at all! the other kids do it too.”

milo snickered and stuck his little tongue out at his dad, and katsuki rolled his eyes.

“is he yours?” you asked kindly, tilting your head.

“who else would he be…” he grumbled.

“i guess you’re right!” you giggled. “he looks just like you.”

katsuki’s eyes flickered to yours before dropping back down, a permanent furrow in his brows as you all rounded the corner.

“here we are—”

“ooo! ooo!” milo hopped up and down. “miss you have race cars?! dad can i please go?!”

he looked over, a mountain of toys scattered about in the classrooms play area, little kids already making a damn mess and the school day hadn’t even officially started yet.

“the hell you asking me for? ask your tea—”

“miss miss can i please go play with the race cars?!—”

“of course my love! go! go have fun.” you smiled, gently ushering him on before milo zoomed over to the play area and crouched down with the rest of the kids.

“oi!” katsuki barked. “put them away when you’re done!”

he huffed under his breath as he watched his son give him a thumbs up and fucking dump the entire bucket of race cars down on the ‘abc’ play rug, taking one in each hand and dragging them across floor.

“he’s so cuteee.” you grinned. “i’m glad he’s not afraid being it’s his first day.”

“oh fuck no.” he mumbled. “milo doesn’t care. the little runt doesn’t have a filter and does whatever the hell he wants without askin’ sometimes.”

he leaned against the doorsill as he watched milo converse with another kid and share a car, satisfaction in his chest that his son was sharing and being nice.

“but i guess he gets that from me.” he finished off.

you nodded. “but that’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

he pursed his lips.

“in my experience, not really.”

you hummed.

“i think it’s definitely a good thing… i’d rather be assertive of things and not be afraid of what the consequences will be.”

katsuki looked at you, properly this time.

“what’s a kindergarten teacher afraid of?”

you shrugged, a slow playful grin spreading across your face.

“parents.”

he snorted, crossing his arms over his chest and you quickly had to look away, a pink buzz to your cheeks at the way his big built arms flexed.

inappropriate inappropriate inappropriate—

“i don’t know how you do it..” he spoke lowly.

“do what?”

“take care of little shits all day.”

you laughed loudly, reeling over a bit as he watched you out of the corner of his eye.

“i don’t take care of them! i teach them.” you quipped cutely. “they’re small, but this is when their brains drink up the most knowledge… and i love to see the progress from the beginning of the year compared to the end! i love it all really.”

pure.

katsuki curtly nodded, your sweet positive ambiance throwing him completely off, as he doesn’t think he’s ever met or surrounded himself around someone who’s directly emmitted the feeling of sunshine and rainbows and candy as much as you did.

and his cheeks flared up for some reason.

“oh!” you looked to the time on your little wrist watch and walked inside your classroom. “it’s almost time to start! i have to wrangle them all in their seats heh!”

katsuki swallowed and nodded.

“milo!”

he turned and upon seeing his dad wave him over, milo dropped his toys and bounded to him.

“don’t give her a hard time alright?” he spoke sternly, nudging his head over at you for emphasis. “listen. listen and learn and be the best one in there.”

“kaaayyy!”

“and you let me know if any of the other kids mess with you or you deal with it yourself. you already know how—”

“beat the crap out of them!” he cheered loudly and katsuki’s hand flew to clasp over his sons mouth before his frantic eyes looked at you.

the last thing he needed was someone to call up fucking child protective services on him.

“he’s joking! he’s joking… fuck.”

you giggled hard and clutched your stomach, your pretty smile sending katsuki for a loop.

“no you’re absolutely right!” you waved your hands in front of your face, reassuring. “treat others the way you want to be treated, so if someone’s being mean to you, bite back milo, okay? and also let me know first though!”

katsuki gave you a wobbly tiny smile amidst his branded serious face, looking at his son then and ruffling up his hair.

“okay, go.” milo ran off. “and don’t let me pick you up with dirt all over your clothes ya hear me?!”

“byeee daaaddd!”

you could tell that behind his harsh exterior— the slight purse of his lips, stiff frame and bouncing leg gave away that he was only worried about his kid and his first day of school, a sight you’ve seen time and time again since you started working as a kindergarten teacher, and one that never failed to warm your heart.

“don’t worry!” you sweetly smiled, and katsuki switched his gaze over to yours. “i’ll watch him especially… okay? to ease the nerves.”

he softly snorted, attempting to play it off but internally relieved as he pushed himself off the doorsill and nodded, thankful that the teacher milo got was as kind as you.

“um…” he mumbled. “katsuki.”

you tilted your head. “katsuki?”

“it’s my name idiot.”

“oh!” you giggled, a blush rising in your cheeks again as you tried to simmer it down. “nice to meet you katsuki! i’ll see you after school then with milo?”

he stiffly nodded, the way his name sounded so sugary off your tongue something he’d never heard before in his life or was used to at all.

“…ya gonna tell me yours or what?”

“sorry!” you sputtered, laughing nervously. “sorry it just— flew! you know—”

you stuck your hand out and offered it to him.

“y/n!”

katsuki untangled his arms and firmly shook it, grip strong and one that nearly made you stumble forward as you caught yourself and smiled.

“i’ll see you katsuki!”

out of all of the kids you’ve taught, milo was by far the cutest one.

the little man was like your personal assistant— a little bee buzzing around as he followed you everywhere in the classroom and helped you clean up after the rest of the kids that didn’t, ‘yelling’ at some of them to and cutely scolding them whenever he’d catch them leave some things behind, and was always on watch for you like a security guard with his little balled up fists on his hips, surveilling the classroom for any misbehaving kids or messes that you’d missed throughout the day.

all traits you no doubt knew he got from katsuki, even if you had just met him. it was pleasantly obvious.

“thanks for helping me out today, milo!” you gushed, pushing another students chair in as they all sat down and chattered for lunch. “you made my job a lot easier!”

“really?!” he squealed, big glimmering eyes beaming up at you before he happily chowed down on some apple slices.

and you noticed then milo’s lunch was insane, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches cut up and molded neatly into the shape of panda bears, his watermelon and apple slices shaped like stars with carrots and celery lined up with a little wedge of lemon if he wished, tiny rice balls on the side for a little snack you figured in case what he had didn’t fill him up— all so considerate and careful…

“wow!” you exclaimed, kneeling down next to him. “your lunch looks so yummy my love! did your mommy make this?”

“nuh uh!” he shook his head, cheeks filled with watermelon. “my dad did!”

you faltered.

“katsuki made this?”

“who’s katsuki miss?” he asked curiously, sipping on his little juice box after swallowing the fruit in his mouth.

you giggled. “nothing! nothing. enjoy your lunch okay?”

you went to stand, but milo’s hand shot out and caught your wrist.

“can you— can you eat lunch with me?” he mumbled shyly, fiddling with some carrot pieces in his hands. “please.. i always eat with my dad but he’s not here…”

your eyes softened and you quickly nodded.

“of course! let me just go grab my lunch and ill bring it over! sounds good?”

“yaaaayyyy!” he cheered happily, arms up as you scooched a tiny chair over from a nearby table and sat with him, laughing at his cute expression.

you knew you shouldn’t use a little kid to pry… but you were guiltily curious as to know if katsuki was married or not for reasons that made you ridiculously flustered and red in the face over.

and you wanted to be respectful in case he was… since the ogling you did at his muscles this morning through his black ribbed tank was the most embarrassing moment of your career and one you hadn’t seen coming at all, it catching you off guard and feeling horrible if katsuki indeed had a wife.

but he didn’t have a ring on his finger…

“milo?” you spoke up softly.

he smiled big. “yes miss!”

“does your mommy make you lunch as well or just your dad?”

he shook his head. “just my dad! i don’t have a mom.”

your shoulders deflated.

he didn’t have a mom… at all?

you slowly reached over then and patted his blonde hair, smiling warmly as his cheeks went pink. “that’s alright! i’m sure your dad makes you lunches like this every time huh?”

“yeah!” he gasped excitedly. “yesterday he made pizzas and cut them into dinosaurs! it was so cool! and then!— and then this morning for breakfast i had waffles that looked like dynamite blasts!”

“oh my goodness!” you giggled, your heart absolutely thumping over the fact that katsuki was so dedicated to his son like that. “man, i wish my lunches were as cute as yours!”

his little eyes snapped to yours.

“i’ll tell him!”

your brows furrowed confusedly. “wha—”

“to make you lunch! i’ll tell my dad to make you lunch!”

your eyes widened and you frantically shook your head, cheeks blazing as you laughed. “oh no my love! that’s totally okay don’t worry about me silly—”

“i’ll tell him i’ll tell him i’ll tell him!—”

“milo it’s okay! i’m a big girl.” you grinned. “i’m supposed to make my own lunches.”

milo grumbled and plopped a carrot in his mouth, begrudgingly chewing as he sat there in thought.

“…will you at least let me share some of mine?”

you pouted at his generosity, wondering how a kid could be so sweet as you nodded and held your hand up.

“of course sweetie! whatever you wa—”

milo plopped all of his peanut butter sandwiches in your palm and grinned, earning a gasp from you.

“milo this is too much i can’t—”

“eat it! eat it! eait it!—”

by the end of the day, you managed to get milo to take back his sandwiches in exchange for one singular watermelon star piece, him still doing his regular duties of being your little assistant and helping you clean up after everyone before the final bell rang signaling the end of class, you carefully making sure each kiddo got their designated backpack (as there was often a mix up) and art pieces they made for their parents to take home— a permission slip for the end of the year field trip tucked away inside their bags.

and the minute you stepped outside with the rest of the kids, you were surprised to see that katsuki was one of the first parents there as he stood directly across from your classroom with crossed arms, an angry usual scowl on his face that made you laugh to yourself as you led your kids to sit down on a bench in a single file line until their parents physically came to get them or their vehicles pulled up.

“milo!” you tapped his shoulder gently. “your daddy’s over there!”

“DAAADDD!!”

milo jumped up and ran across the grass, his tiny arms out as katsuki smiled softly and crouched down to pick his son up and settle him on his lower abdomen, you wringing your fingers behind your back and walking up to them.

“were you a brat?” he grunted.

“nope!”

“did any kids mess with you?”

“nope!”

“did you leave a mess?”

“nope!”

you giggled, and katsuki’s eyes snapped in your direction.

“how was he?”

“he did so good!” you gushed, patting milo’s back as he grinned. “was my little helper and everything! didn’t leave a single mess behind and helped me clean up after everyone else… he even made sure everyone was paying attention and not misbehaving.”

“yeah! yeah! see dad?” milo poked his dads cheek. “i didn’t lie!”

“never said you lied you little runt.” he scowled. “…but good job.”

“thanks!”

katsuki set him down after milo started kicking his legs and saying something about the swings, him instantly running towards the playground and to the slide.

“did he actually do all of that?” he spoke up.

“oh yes!” you quickly nodded. “i’ve never had a kid do that before so it was really nice of him to!”

you detached your fingers from around your back and fiddled with them.

“you teach him well katsuki.”

he scoffed and turned his head, cheeks pink as he tried to regain his composure.

“damn right i do.”

you giggled then, the memory of milo telling you he didn’t have a mother suddenly popping into your mind as you watched him happily slide down the blue slide head first.

“hey i don’t mean to um..” you timidly began. “i don’t mean to pry but—”

katsuki raised a brow at you and you snapped your mouth shut.

“nothing! nothing nevermind—”

“spit it out.”

“no it’s alright! sorry i—”

he glared and you cowered, smiling bashfully as you bit your bottom lip.

“milo… milo mentioned that he didn’t have a mommy? i was just— wondering if that was true…”

“tch—” he shook his head. “that’s what you were afraid of askin’ me?”

“i told you i’m scared of parents…” you slumped cutely, and he chuckled.

“it’s just me and him.” he answered. “his mom’s never been a part of our lives.”

your heart sunk a little, eyes sad as your gaze shifted to milo playing and racing around with another kid.

“don’t do that.”

you jumped and looked at katsuki.

“do— do what—”

“look all sad and shit.”

he hesitantly reached over and planted an index finger to the crease between your brows, the feeling rough as he tried to gently drag it down and smooth over the lines.

“it’s fine.” he grumbled, letting his arm fall to his side. “it doesn’t bother him. at least i don’t think it does.”

“no!” you spoke quickly, a crazed blush on your cheeks. “it doesn’t! and milo speaks so highly of you… especially the lunches you make him.”

his brows furrowed. “his lunch?”

“yeah!” you nodded excitedly. “you prepare it so so well! how do you get his sandwiches to look like little bears? and his fruit?! every time i try to cut mine into stars they always break in half…”

he huffed out a laugh, finding your little whine funny as he reached over and ruffled up your hair, you smiling cheekily in response.

“do you use molds?” you asked politely. “to shape out the bear?”

“fuck no.” he scoffed. “i do it myself.”

your eyes flew open.

“what?! so that’s really just you? and the dinosaurs too? the pizza dinosaurs? and the waffles? the ones that looked like dynamite blasts—”

“jesus christ how much did that kid tell you?”

your face grew hot as you smacked a hand over your mouth.

“sorry!” you giggled. “i just was thinking— that his lunch was really cute and thoughtful…” you took your hand away from your face. “i’m really glad that you do little things like that for milo to make him happy.”

katsuki stared at you, your swarm of compliments and sweetness and sunshine and butterflies almost suffocating as you looked at him with those pretty doe eyes, his throat oddly closing up the longer he stared right back and allowed you to pull him into your world of wonder and abc blocks and puzzles.

but it wasn’t suffocating in a bad way, not at all.

and… maybe he did want you to pull him in.

“dad dad dad!”

milo ran over, sweaty and red faced as he reached the two of you.

“there’s a dead lizard in the slide!”

“a dead lizard?” you laughed, surprised as you reached for his little water bottle from his backpack on the ground and uncapped the lid, handing it over and ushering him to drink.

katsuki didn’t know why the domestic sight of you doing that made him melt a bit.

a bit.

“yeah miss! it was big and gross.” he breathed out after gulping some of his icy cold water. “but i buried him!”

his dads red eyes snapped down to his and narrowed.

“don’t tell me you touched that thing milo.”

“i did!” he giggled.

“oh my fucking god—” katsuki snatched his hand and started pulling him to the car as milo giggled and stuck his tongue out.

“it’s a prank! some other girl in my class did… but i helped with the dirt!”

you chuckled softly as you watched katsuki stop and roll his eyes, coming back over to you with a hyper milo.

“say bye to your teacher ya little runt. and you’re still taking a shower when you get home!”

“but i don’t wanna take a showeerrr!” milo whined, letting go of his dads hand and running to you, you crouching and extending your arms big with a pretty smile.

“bye my love!” you hugged him tight as he giggled. “i’ll see you tomorrow okay? and give your daddy a break. no more digging up dirt and playing with dead lizards.”

“kaayyyy!”

you both let go and he stepped back, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before bouncing back to his dad.

katsuki choked on his spit.

“oi!” he barked. “you can’t just kiss her cheek milo the hell is going on with you?!—”

“it’s okay don’t worry!” you smiled kindly. “he’s just being sweet is all! i don’t mind.”

“you sure?” he pushed, milo snickering. “i—”

you waved him off and wrung your fingers behind your back, leaning forward.

“i’ll see you tomorrow morning kats!”

and he froze, nodding hard as he quickly took milo’s hand and backpack before walking to the car, his heart completely aflame in his chest and cheeks red as he led his babbling son further into the parking lot and inside the car, buckling him up in his car seat before hopping in himself and starting the engine, unbelieving that he had barely just met you and he was already thinking and acting like a fucking dumbass.

“and then we learned the days of the week! oh!— and we learned numbers! i can count to fifteen dad!”

“that’s good milo.” he responded, pulling out of the schools parking lot and craning his neck to see if he could catch a final glimpse of you and settling once he did, you so pretty and conversing so nicely with another kid until he was out of the lot.

“did you eat all of your lunch? y/n tells me ya shared with her.”

“i did! i did share with her.” he grinned. “she liked my lunch!”

“good.” katsuki gave him a thumbs up through the rear view mirror. “that’s good that you always share. especially with her.”

“yup yup! she’s preeettyyy.”

he rolled his eyes, but a small smile grew at the corner of his lips as he nodded curtly.

“that she is.”

katsuki continued to drop off his son personally at your classroom every morning before school.

even when it had been a couple of months into the year, at this point many students already used to their route to and out of class and their parents just dropping them off and leaving— them not even allowed on campus as security rounded every corner and told any parents who wished to go in that they weren’t supposed to, as per policy.

but not katsuki.

katsuki didn’t give a fuck as he stormed through the main office and ignored the calls of the front desk lady, her already used to the rude asshole who came through the building every morning as he strode by and down the hall to class twenty four… wanting to see you— his son’s pretty kindergarten teacher that was sweet and joyful and someone who was everything he wasn’t, his mind curious and filled with your giggles and smiles throughout the time that he’d gotten to know you and chat with you in the mornings and the afternoons, loving the way you were with milo and treated him like he was literally your own— always watching over him and making sure he had had enough to eat and drink and that his hands were washed when he wasn’t around.

and even katsuki himself— you bringing him candy bags from their classroom parties or donuts that were passed to faculty in the mornings and saving yours for him, treats he always took and ate with no questions asked even though he wasn’t a fan of sugary shit and junk food, always making the exception for you.

he had never experienced honest help like that… he’d never experienced someone caring enough about him and his son like the way you did so perfectly every single day…

and katsuki feared that he was a little obsessed.

“oh! miss y/n!”

“yes honey?” you responded kindly, opening a juice pouch for another student and handing it to them carefully during lunch.

milo dug into his lunch pail and pulled out a small container, sticking his hand up and offering it to you.

your brows furrowed, taking it from him.

“what’s this milo?”

“it’s from my dad!”

you stopped, heart dropping to your ass as you recounted his words.

from katsuki?

“your— your dad?”

“mhm!”

you shakily popped the lid of the container open, eyes widening and filling with hearts once you saw a mix of star shaped strawberries and watermelon and papayas, drizzled over with sparkling strings of honey and singular little blueberries scattered about.

“for me?” you asked softly, crouching down next to milo. “my love— are you sure this isn’t for you? i think your dad cut these up for you—”

“nope! for you!” he gave you a big toothy smile before stuffing his mouth with crackers. “he told me not to eat it and to give it to you.”

he swallowed and reached up, you tilting down your head so he could pat it just like you always did for him.

“i hope you like it miss! they look like the ones you told me looked cute!”

“i— i love them milo.. thank you!”

you picked up a papaya piece and ate it, entirely dazed and love struck as your tastebuds savored over the sweet velvety thick honey, literally blinking back tears at how thoughtful and kind katsuki was.

he didn’t have to do this at all… yet he took the time anyways out of his morning to do this for you.

and your heart nearly fucking gave out.

after school once you got your rowdy kids to sit neatly on the bench and wait for their parents, you extended a hand for milo and he hopped off the bench and took it, you both walking up to a waiting katsuki as he stood there with a soft smile on his face.

“hi kats!”

“hey.” he picked his son up and settled him over his abdomen, milo’s arms clinging around his neck and chin propped up on his dads shoulder as he was exhausted from a days worth of playing and learning.

“i wanted to um—” you peered up at him. “i um—”

his brows furrowed, and just as he was about to bark about you stumbling over your words, he stopped.

your bottom lip was trembling.

you hurriedly wiped your eyes.

“i wanted to thank you—” hic! “f—for the star shaped fruit this morning—”

“why are you crying dumbass?” he mumbled, reaching over and wiping some tears with his rough fingers.

“because it was so nice!” you sobbed, shoulders shaking as you let him wipe your cheeks. “and— and you put honey over it too! you didn’t have to do any of that for me!”

“tch—”

he flicked your forehead softly, not enough to hurt you but enough to get you to snap out of your hiccups as you sniffled.

“it’s just fruit y/n—”

“but it’s not.” you wiped your eyes again. “not to me anyways…”

katsuki slowly lowered his arm, gaze tracing over your pretty face and perfect hair and the way you cried over something so stupid, his brain unable to process the fact that an act as simple as cutting fruit up for you could make you this happy, and it made him want to see what you saw for once— how you saw the world for exactly what it was and appreciated it regardless of how big or small things were, not snippy or angry or spiteful over everyone and thinking everything was out to get him and his son.

“crybaby…” he grumbled. “i’m glad you liked it though.”

“i did kats.. a lot. thank you.” you wiped the last of your tears and smiled. “i’m sorry i cried.”

what a pretty sweet girl…

he shook his head and hoisted milo up, him completely knocked out with drool coming out of his mouth as katsuki felt it run down his shoulder, barely even noticing that though as his entire focus was trained purely on you.

was it okay if he… asked you out? would it be weird? would you tell him to fuck off?

katsuki internally rolled his eyes at his stupid fucking high school boy thoughts, though it didn’t alleviate the gnawing feeling that if you did tell him to fuck off… that he’d be angrily mortified at his fail and probably lose the right to talk to you since it’d be too awkward to.

but you were just so fucking sweet. all of the time.

“listen uh—” he cleared his throat, face growing hot. “i was wondering if ya wanted to eat dinner with me… sometime.”

you stared, eyes big and shocked and katsuki took it defensively and entirely the wrong way.

“forget it.” he snapped. “forget it i didn’t say shit—”

“no! no no—” you quickly shook your head. “no it’s okay i would!”

he stopped.

“you would?”

“of course!” you expressed sweetly, cheeks hurting from how big you were smiling as you tried to simmer down your giddy squeals. “i’d love to have dinner with you…”

his tense shoulders slowly relaxed, an eventual small smile growing on his face.

“a—alright uh…” he sighed. “i’d prefer to take ya somewhere nice but i don’t really have anyone to watch milo—”

you shook your head again, brows pinched. “oh no kats— we don’t have to go anywhere at all! we can order something in at your place and eat with milo? or— or my place?”

“my place.” he replied. “and i’ll cook.”

he cooks?!

“okay!” you giggled, your hand reaching up and patting over milo’s sleepy head gently. “sounds good!”

katsuki and you agreed on the details of the date after and bid each other bashful goodbyes, swooning as you watched him walk away into the parking lot with a sleeping milo in his arms and feeling like none of this was fucking real, for you couldn’t believe someone as handsome and cool as katsuki would ever be interested in someone like you.

and funnily enough, he felt the complete opposite, stressed and extra snappy as he cleaned the house from top to bottom (though it barely needed it), unnecessarily fixed the positioning of the furniture and made milo put away his toys, him not even whining or protesting like he usually did solely because the little man knew you were coming— pretty miss y/n with the pretty smile and the nicest lady he had ever met, and one he secretly hoped would be his new mommy every time he saw you and his dad converse before and after school, thinking you would fit the role perfectly.

especially after his dad had given you those fruits as a present!

“milo!” katsuki called. “come ‘ere!”

his son ran into the kitchen, toy race car in hand. “what!”

“be good today, ya hear me?” he pushed, face stern as he flipped a kitchen towel over his shoulder and sautéed vegetables in his frying pan. “please milo. don’t try to be funny and do somethin’ to scare y/n off.”

milo gave him a look.

“scare miss y/n off? dad you’re gonna scare her off not me!” he giggled. “silly.”

“yeah..” he grunted. “you’re probably right but i’m just sayin’. i’m thinking of the time grandma came over and ya put that fake rat in her purse to try and be funny.”

“ohhh yeeeeah!” he doubled over in little fits of laughter, holding his stomach as he did. “i did do that!”

“see what i mean?” katsuki grumbled, snatching the kitchen towel from his shoulder and throwing it down on the counter top, stepping back to peek in the oven. “you better not do that with y/n please.”

“i won’t!” he grinned. “not when she’s about to be my new mommy!”

katsuki choked as his spit went down the wrong pipe, bending over and coughing uncontrollably in his elbow before spinning around and looking at his son with wide eyes and pink cheeks.

“the hell you just say?”

“what!” milo tilted his head. “that y/n is gonna be my new mommy?”

his eyes grew even wider as he dropped the pan he was holding on the stove and leaned back, running his hands over his face.

“oh you little runt please don’t say that in front of her, alright?”

he pouted. “why not?”

“you’ll scare her off! worse than when you put that fake rat in grandmas purse!”

“boooo!” milo stuck his tongue out and crossed his little arms over his chest. “whatever.”

“oi!”

“what!”

katsuki’s doorbell chimed and milo booked it to the front door.

“missss preettyyyy!!—”

“milo get your ass back here!—”

katsuki swung the door open and swooped his son in his arms just as he was about to pounce on you in midair, you giggling and covering your mouth as you watched the scene unfold before you.

“i’m sorry—”

“hiii misss y/nnn!” milo greeted happily, dangling off of his dad as katsuki tried to stop him from wiggling out of his grip. “i’m so exciteeeddd!—”

“hi my love!” you gushed warmly, smile wide as you extended your arms and walked forward, taking milo in your arms and setting him on your hip. “how are you? you excited to hang out with meee?”

“yes! yes!” he vigorously nodded. “i wanna show you all my race cars!”

“oh i can’t wait to seeee!” you bounced him on your hip and he giggled, you turning your attention and smiling at katsuki.

“hi kats!”

“the little brat is hogging—”

milo blew a silly raspberry at him before wrapping his arms around you and shoving his face into your neck.

you laughed and ran a soothing hand over the little man’s back, katsuki rolling his eyes before stepping to the side and letting you in, shutting the door behind him and leading you over to the kitchen.

and jesus christ you looked beautiful, him noting that pink was what you mainly wore on the day to day as he eyed your small rosy cardigan, you walking through his home and looking around and oblivious to the way he was staring at you like a fucking creep.

katsuki bit the inside of his cheek as he watched your eyes scan your surroundings, stupidly nervous about what you’d think of his house and furniture and minuscule decorations, and annoyed with himself that he’d even give a shit about something like that, trying to occupy himself and ignore it as he looked in the oven and lifted lids of various pots and pans, checking over tonight’s dinner.

“i’m sorry i’m behind…” he grumbled and waved his hand around. “had to clean the house and shower milo since he decided to play in the fuckin’ mud this morning.”

“oh you don’t have to apologize for that kats!” you looked at him worriedly. “you don’t have to apologize for anything i totally understand…”

you hoisted milo further up your hip and grinned. “i’m just happy to spend time with the both of you.”

katsuki felt smoke puff out of his red ears as he nodded and scratched the back of his neck, turning slightly and lifting the lids from his pots and pans again.

“miss preettyyyy!” milo whined. “when can i show you my race cars?!”

katsuki scowled and you laughed.

“now honey! but how about we move some of your toys to the living room so i can spend time with both you and dad? how does that sound?”

“yayayay!!” milo cheered, bouncing on your hip as you smiled cutely and set him down, him running off down the hall and you quickly following after him.

milo talked you through his entire collection of race cars as you both sat down on the living room rug— telling you the model of each and every one, what they did, how fast they went, they places they’d gone, and which were his favorites as you excitedly talked to him about his cars and shifted conversation between him and katsuki, a task he was surprised you did so efficiently, but then quickly realized that that was literally your fucking job everyday dealing with little brats talking your ears off and you attending all of them at the same time.

and when it came around to dinner time, you helped katsuki set up even through his snapping and huffing that you absolutely shouldn’t, you giving him a silly little face as you assisted anyways and set up milo’s booster seat, picking him up and sitting him down before buckling him up while katsuki placed your dishes on the table—

and gourmet fucking dishes at that.

you were bewildered. absolutely bewildered as you gawked over the lasagna platter he set before you, it delicate and fancy looking as he had even draped sauce on your gray ceramic plate in gourmet intricate designs, knowing that katsuki had mentioned to you he was a chef over the several months you’d gotten to know him, but you didn’t know exactly to which extent that chef occupation stretched to.

“kats…” you murmured. “what do you do for a living.”

“i told you idiot.” he passed over a couple of napkins and you gratefully took them, taking one then and wiping down milo’s mouth as he messily ate his cut up pieces of lasagna. “i’m a cook.”

“yeah but what kind? where?”

“why?” he gruffed. “does it look like shit?”

“no!” you giggled. “absolutely not the opposite actually! this is probably the most beautiful lasagna i’ve ever seen in my life.”

“duh.” he responded, but sent you a small smile as he ate. “i’m an executive chef down at a restaurant in the city.”

your jaw dropped. “the city?! you’re so cool kats! oh my goodness!”

his face flushed.

“my dad says his boss is a piece of—”

“don’t say it!” katsuki snapped at his son, eyes wide as you slapped a hand over your mouth to keep yourself from laughing, not wanting to encourage the little man any further.

“milo i told ya not to cuss until you’re ten—”

“ten?!” you giggled loudly and let your hand fall, sticking your fork in your lasagna and eating. “as long as he cusses with you and not at you… i think it should be fine!”

katsuki stopped.

you get it. or you rile up his bad cussing habit. either or he might as well have found his fucking soulmate.

“miss pretty!” milo called.

“yes my love?”

“do you have a boyfriend?”

katsuki smacked a hand on his forehead and you snickered.

“i don’t!” you grinned. “why milo?”

“because i want you to be my new—”

“milo if ya shut your mouth right now i’ll buy you two new race cars tomorrow.”

his son gasped dramatically and pursed his lips shut, eyes big and excited as he tried to contain himself and do as told.

“his new what?” you tilted your head cutely, katsuki’s heart hammering against his rib cage as he stuffed his mouth with food.

he shrugged. “the fuck should i know?”

“but i wanna know!” you pouted, taking your final bites of your yummy dinner.

he swallowed.

“do you want dessert?”

you gasped. “oh my god yes! i do!”

“then i suggest you shut your mouth too.”

you laughed over the table, quickly nodding as you pursed your lips like milo and pinched your thumb and index finger together, running it across your mouth and twisting your wrist like a pretend lock before dropping your hand in your lap, giddy and excited over dessert.

katsuki playfully rolled his eyes and stood, collecting all of your plates and stacking them on top of each other before taking them over to the sink.

“dad!” milo called as he bounced in his seat, katsuki grunting in response.

“what’d you make for dessert!”

“mochi.”

“yaaaayyyyy!” he cheered happily. “can i eat it with y/n in the living room?”

katsuki’s brows furrowed. “the living room?”

“yeah!” milo exclaimed. “so i can keep showing her my race cars!”

he struggled for a moment before eventually nodding. “alright… but don’t make a mess i just cleaned—”

you and milo ended up building a fucking fort once he gave you the all clear, you both saying something about it adding to the ambiance as you used the couch cushions for makeshift walls and milo’s choo choo train sheets for the roof and tent, katsuki before he knew it his entire living room a fucking mess as the three of you sat amongst the scattered about pillows and blankets eating your bits of mochi, milo mainly inside the little tent you made for him as you and katsuki were too big to fit inside with him.

his living room was a mess… but he didn’t mind.

katsuki didn’t mind the mess.

your way of living was entirely different from his, as yours had everything to do with mess due to your full time job with kids— paint all over your hands and face, marker stains on your clothes and sticky glue residue and pieces of cut up construction paper somehow in your hair, all things katsuki despised for years and made sure his house never reflected any of that.

but in that moment, with his living room in complete disarray and the positioning of his couches utterly fucked up? the dishes still in the sink and the table still set?

katsuki didn’t fucking care.

because he had never seen his son so happy. he had never seen him so excited and hyper as you helped him set up and somehow tie fairy lights that katsuki had somewhere up in his attic for holiday seasons around the fort, you looking fucking gorgeous under the dim dark lightning as you read milo one of his favorite children’s books you got from his little shelf in his room— ‘the very hungry caterpillar,’ one of your favorites too as his son followed along with you and giggled whenever you’d make a silly joke only a five year old would find funny.

and katsuki felt warm… that’s all he ever felt when he was around you.

is this what it was like to be a family?

“oh my goodness i almost forgot!” you quickly sat up and handed milo the book, him taking it as you crawled over and reached for your bag. “i brought something for you honey!”

milo gasped and sat up. “really?! what?!”

you pulled out a ceramic cream colored globe with hollowed out stars, a small bulb inside as you scooched on your knees back over to a curious katsuki and milo.

“woah..” his son whispered. “what is it?”

you smiled and reached for the nearest outlet, plugging in the little globe and flicking a switch.

the darkened room illuminated itself then with the soft murmur of a lullaby playing, star shaped shadows slowly shifting around the entire living room as milo gasped and stood, frantically pointing at each moving shadow and gushing while his little mind was trying to process how cool and fascinating this was.

and all katsuki could do was stare at you.

stare at the way you sat back on your ankles and pointed with milo, counting how many stars you could see before it shifted and repeating that for fun, stare at the way both of your eyes glowed with wonder and curiosity, and stare at the way you smiled so gracefully and looked unreal now under the starry lights, his heart on overdrive at how gentle you were and how much you cared about his son.

about him.

and katsuki was sure then he was absolutely sick over you.

you all settled after a while of playing games and eating more mochi, especially milo, the little lullaby knocking him out as he snored next to you in his fort, you and katsuki laying down next to each other as you stared up at the shifting stars.

“i’m sorry i made such a mess in your living room..” you whispered bashfully. “i promise i’ll pick everything up before i leave.”

he shook his head. “don’t worry about it i can pick up. it’s fine.”

you smiled at him warmly before looking back up at the ceiling, feet planted on the blanketed flooring as your mindlessly moved your propped up knees side to side.

“was it hard raising milo on your own kats?” you asked softly, fingers wrung together neatly on your tummy.

“it was at first.” he mumbled. “but i got used to doin’ it on my own.”

you frowned, not particularly happy with the idea that katsuki had to raise a human being on his own without any help or guidance, wishing that he would’ve had someone there to help him every once in a while, or just be there for him.

“you did an exceptional job, okay?” you began. “you should know that... milo is such an honest kid… and he’s so precious too.”

katsuki’s eyes softened, and he couldn’t bring himself to look at you in fear of you noticing his stupid flustered face as he opted for keeping his gaze glued to the starry ceiling, your sugary peachy perfume not fucking helping as he decided to sit up instead.

“he is.” he grunted softly. “don’t know how his mom didn’t see that.”

you faltered and sat up with him.

“what do you mean?”

katsuki eyed you before looking down, hands flat behind him propping himself up as he thought.

“ah… milo happened because of some random hookup i had in college.” he mumbled. “didn’t love her or anythin’, i barely knew her but still told her i’d support her and the baby obviously.”

you nodded, encouraging him to continue.

“i was there through her entire pregnancy and when milo was born… but the minute she got discharged from the hospital and took him with her, i woke up at four in the mornin’ with a knock on my door and milo left abandoned on my doorstep.”

you gasped, hand hovering over your mouth.

“are you— are you serious?”

katsuki nodded.

“she wouldn’t answer my calls, my texts, nothing. i went to her house and found out she took the first flight she could to fuck knows where.” he shook his head bitterly. “but i didn’t give a shit about me i’ll raise him i don’t care. it was never about me.

he looked at you. “it was about milo. i didn’t want him to know that his ‘mom’ left him behind like that, and i didn’t want him to think it was his fault or anythin’… shits ridiculous.”

katsuki shifted his gaze back up to the ceiling. “still don’t know how she could ever do something like that.”

the sound of a hiccup make his eyes widen and snap back to you, your eyes filled with fat tears as your bottom lip wobbled, hands coming up to cup over your mouth and nose as you tried to keep it in.

“you’re crying?”

you nodded, squeaky slight sobs slipping past your throat as you strained to keep everything down.

“that’s so cruel.” you cried softly, embarrassingly drowning in your tears in front of him yet again. “you didn’t deserve that at all kats… milo didn’t deserve that you both should’ve had such a good mommy and— and a good support system—”

katsuki pushed himself up and wrapped his big arms around your shoulders, pulling you in and rubbing a hand up and down your back comfortingly.

“you cry over everything y/n.”

“s—” hic! “—sorry—”

he laid the side of his head on top of yours as you shook, somehow feeling guilty of what he told you just because of how much you were crying.

more than when he gave you those star shaped fruits.

“oi…”

katsuki pulled back and looked at you, reaching up and wiping your tears with his thumbs.

“don’t cry baby…”

baby?!

you funnily sobbed even more and shoved your face in his chest, him chuckling as he wrapped his arms back around you and gently swayed side to side.

“stop it idiot.” he mumbled. “it’s fine. it happened years ago n’ milo and i have always been alright on our own.”

…but he wanted you now.

now that he knew what it was like to be softly cared for by someone precious like you, to feel what it was like to be warm and fuzzy and sunshine and rainbows and candy all of the time… and katsuki wanted you so. bad.

“i know..” you hiccuped. “and i’m really glad but i just wish you had someone.”

you pulled away and quickly wiped your wet cheeks. “m’sorry i cried all over your shirt—”

“don’t give a fuck.”

you breathed out a laugh and dropped your hands in your lap, looking at your fingers as you sniffed.

you were always crying for him.

“y/n.”

“yeah?”

he looked to the side with a blush to his cheeks.

“thanks for comin’ today.”

you smiled brightly and nodded.

“of course kats! how could i not?” you looked behind you to a sleeping milo, reaching over and pulling his blanket a little further up his shoulders. “i want you to know that i wanna be there for you and milo…”

he shifted his gaze to you as you turned back around.

“whether— whether you wanna keep seeing me or not—” you gnawed nervously at the inside of your cheek. “which i hope you do! but— but if not that’s totally fine i just want to be there for you both…”

how were you so pure? so thoughtful?

“why the hell wouldn’t i wanna keep seeing you?” he huffed, grumbly and embarrassed as he pursed his lips. “i’d be stupid as fuck not to…”

you blushed, happy shiny eyes looking at him eagerly like he was everything and more, and he wasn’t used to people looking at him like that whatsoever as your gaze flickered down to his lips and back up.

and you were so pretty.

“y/n.”

“mhm?”

he slowly leaned closer.

“would you be mad if i made a move on you—”

“of course not—”

katsuki lunged and planted his rough lips on yours, you tasting like straight sugar and honey as he placed his big hands on the sides of you head and held you like a piece of delicate glass, kissing and sliding your tongues in each others mouths rather quickly and breathy as he moved one hand from your pretty face down to your waist to grip it.

you placed your hands on the blanketed floor and slowly crawled over to him during the makeout, him reaching and wrapping the rest of his built muscly arms around your waist and pulling you to straddle his lap as he ran his hands up and down your sides and back, wanting to feel you as much as he possibly could and squeeze you tight as he gulped your little self down, brows furrowed and lips red.

katsuki pulled away and ran his fiery wet mouth across your jaw and to the spot right below your ear on the side of your neck, your hands gripping his broad shoulders as he bit and sucked and still squeezed you, manhandling you in a way and eating you up.

your eyes fluttered open once you heard a slight rustle, your line of sight catching milo shifting a little in his sleep.

“k—kats—” you breathlessly whispered, pushing a little at his shoulders.

he grunted.

“milo—” you pointed. “he’s waking up—”

“the fucks that gotta do with us—”

“kats!”

he groaned and pulled his mouth from you, scowling over to see his son only shifted positions and was now directly facing the both of you, tiny eyes closed as he drooled and was probably dreaming about race cars and his dads shark shaped pb & j sandwiches.

“the little runt is fine—” he shoved his face back in and gnawed at your neck again as you gasped.

“nooo!” you whined and giggled softly. “now i’m scared he’s gonna wake up…”

he huffed and officially pulled away this time, red eyes dilated and half lidded as he looked over your pinky cheeks and shy face, the purple and blue mark he made on your neck making the right side of his lips curve up into a little prideful smirk, you too distracted to notice over the way he clutched and loosened up the hold on your waist repeatedly.

katsuki kept you on his lap and scooched himself down, laying on his back and head on the pillow as he nudged you to lay on him completely over his chest and body, you more than happy to do so as you settled your head on his pecs and got comfortable with his strong arms around you— feeling so safe and looked after.

and you hadn’t expected to sleep over… but you just didn’t wanna leave, and katsuki sure as hell didn’t want you to either as you softly and quietly talked over the small tinkling of the lullaby and milo’s soft breathing, shadowy stars still slowly shifting around you as you easily switched between various topics— ranging from serious to silly as you ran a loving hand over his chest and his on your back, the both of you subconsciously lulling each other to sleep until you were just as passed out on the floor as milo.

since then, katsuki didn’t wanna let you out of his sight.

as if he wasn’t already involved enough with milo’s school activities because of you, this man became a fucking member of the pta and volunteered himself for every single event so as long as you were there, helping you out especially with fundraisers and bake sales as his desserts always sold out quicker than anything else and made bank as he snickered and boasted at the other parents that weren’t selling as much, you giving him a silly glare that never failed to shut him right up as he wanted to be good for you and not upset you.

the front desk lady even went from hating him to loving him, katsuki grumbling and chucking her a bag of leftover fundraiser chocolate chip cookies on her desk as he passed by to drop off milo in the mornings, serving as a ticket way in and to get her to shut up now instead of yelling at him from down the hall.

and he continued to give you yummy star shaped fruits.

except now some days they looked like hearts or little flowers, and he always made his fruit assortments different so you wouldn’t get tired of them and added different dippings like caramel or chocolate hazelnut, you gushing and nearly bawling literally everyday whenever you’d open the container and milo giggling at you during lunch.

you also never went a day without stopping by or staying over at katsuki’s house since your first initial date, your days so much fun and filled with love as you ate lunch or dinner with the two of them, laughing at milo’s sporadic comments or katsuki’s barking and scolding while you either played with milo, helped katsuki clean up the house and him the kitchen or you the kitchen and vice versa, or simply cuddle on the couch with kisses shared amongst you and katsuki— the three of you with milo seated peacefully and comfortable in the middle while you watched a movie or lulled the little man to sleep.

and katsuki had never felt so complete as he started leaving messes behind without even realizing or stressing about it, and he didn’t know when the fuck it was that he turned so soft and sappy— the change a bit strange to those who knew him as he was just a teeny weeny less explosive and angry over small things, and more so when it came to you and his son.

“make sure you keep your little bucket hat on honey, okay? it’s hot today and i don’t want you to tire yourself out milo.”

the end of the year field trip for the kindergarteners this year was a voyage to the local wildlife sanctuary, a gorgeous exhibit that sat right next to the national science museum in your city, its main attraction being the 25 foot koi pond and butterfly wonderland that housed various butterfly species and their little habitats— the kids field trip assignment being to count how many they see throughout the day and pick one koi fish and butterfly to draw on their journals.

katsuki, of course, volunteered as a chaperone.

“single file line please my loves!” you called, hand by your mouth. “and don’t seperate from your friends okay?! everyone stay where i can see—”

“oi!” katsuki barked, snapping and pointing at a rogue kid who decided to break free from the line and run across the grass. “the fuck do you think you’re doing!—”

“kats!” you breathed out a shocked laugh. “you’re gonna get me fired if you talk to the kids like that—”

“shit! sorry— i’m sorry baby hold on—”

katsuki booked it across the grassy lawn and caught up with the running kid on the other side, the rest of your class giggling and cackling as katsuki swooped him up with one arm and dangled him upside down while he kicked and swung tiny punches to his abs, katsuki not even flinching.

“do that again and see what happens brat.” he spat, the little kid not having a single care in the world as he giggled with the rest of the class, all of them deviously planning to piss katsuki off as much as possible since his outbursts were just funny.

“okay okay—” you smiled apologetically at him before taking the dangling boy from his arm and setting him back down, fixing over his clothes and backpack before patting his head and standing upright.

“no more running alright?” you placed your hands on your hips. “don’t we wanna see some cute little fishies and butterflies?!”

“yeeeeaaaahhhh!!” the babies cheered excitedly, each of them immediately returning to their designated spots in two lines as you grabbed your line leaders tiny hands and started the walk down the grassy field to the sanctuary.

“lemme help ya with one line baby—” katsuki went to grab one of your line leaders hands until they burst into a crying fit.

“no! no! i wanna hold miss y/n’s hand!”

katsuki’s eyes narrowed. “what’s so bad about me hah?”

“you’re ugly! miss y/n is pretty!”

the rest of the kids ruptured, laughing as katsuki sent death glares to a literal child, about to spout something nasty until his eyes flickered to your pleading face, his muscles instantly relaxing as he casted his gaze to the ground with a grumble.

you giggled and gave him a sweet kiss to his cheek in gratitude, his face flushing as he eyed your deep blue overalls and pinky shirt and the way your sunglasses sat pretty in your hair on top of your head.

“what honey?” you tilted your head.

“none of your business.”

you snickered and nudged your shoulder with his, looking over at milo from somewhere in the line to make sure he was okay before walking up the front gates of the sanctuary.

the wildlife guide met you once you all were cleared and inside the greenhouse, your kids absolutely restless as they ‘listened’ to whatever the guide had to say and just wanting to break free and run around to look at all of the fishies and butterflies like you had promised, and you not even listening either as you drooled over the way katsuki’s muscles looked under his t-shirt.

“any questions sweetheart?”

“huh?” your eyes snapped to the guide, cheeks pink as you quickly shook your head. “oh! no not at all! thank you ma’am!”

“alrighty then! just please make sure to tell your students—”

suddenly your two perfect lines broke apart as the kids started running around and pointing at fluttering butterflies and screaming, the guide looking like she’d seen a ghost as the usual quiet and serene sanctuary was now the epitome of noise.

“i’m sorry! i’m sorry—” you guiltily apologized. “my kids will settle down they’re just excited is all…”

the guide kindly waved you off before walking back to the main office, you turning and expecting to see katsuki standing next to you, but faltering once you saw he was on the other side and pulling one of your kids down that had climbed up the gates of one of the sanctuaries closed off exhibits.

“oh god..” you mumbled, about to make your way over until you spotted milo in a corner alone, staring at one of the koi ponds.

“milo?” you called softly, walking up to him.

your heart sank once he turned and you saw his little tear filled eyes and wobbling lip.

“oh no!” you gasped, crouching down and taking his tiny hands in yours. “what’s wrong my love? are you okay? is it too hot?”

you pushed some of his spiky blonde bangs back from his sweaty forehead as he shook his head.

“i can’t draw!” he sniffled. “and the koi fishies keep moving…”

your shoulders relaxed in relief.

“that’s okay!” you took his journal and pencil, wiping his wet cheeks as you smiled sweetly. “as long as we’re patient with the fishies, they’ll swim back and you can draw them again!”

you opened his journal and flipped to a new blank page, the both of you waiting quietly until a big chubby koi fish swam by.

“there!” milo whispered and pointed, and you quickly drew what you could, just making out the shape of the body before it disappeared again.

“and now we wait!” you grinned up at him. “the fishy will come back around and you’ll be able to draw it again.”

“kayyy!!”

“and you can draw milo. i’ve seen your artwork in class, remember? you always get a gold star!”

he giggled. “i do miss pretty!”

you ran a soothing hand over his back before passing his journal back.

“now you try honey—”

“i love you.”

you froze and looked up, katsuki standing there with a sincere and vulnerable look in his eye.

you stood from your crouched position and looked at him wide eyed.

“i’m not— i’m not good at this kinda shit at all and i always say somethin’ dumb but i do.”

“kats—”

“and i’m sorry it took me so long to say it but i tried to make it obvious with my stupid shaped fruits n’ shit… and i always thought you kinda just knew…”

milo was too busy focusing on catching glimpses of the koi fish to draw with his tongue peeking out to even realize what was going on next to him.

“you’re so patient baby. the way you are with me… the way you are with my kid. i need that in my life and i can’t live without it at this point…” he spoke genuinely. “your fuckin’ fault.”

you giggled and covered your face with your hands, face hot to the touch and bashful at everything he was telling you.

“come here.”

you listened and walked forward, dropping your arms as you wrapped them around his abdomen and his around your head, squishing you in his big chest as he propped his chin up.

“do you love me too or what.” he frowned. “cause if not this is shitty and embarrassing—”

“no i do!” you giggled, pulling away and giving him a cheeky smile. “i do kats you know that… i love you. so much.”

he smiled and pecked your lips. “good, miss pretty.”

katsuki had heard the entire conversation you had with his son, your words seeping with such tenderness and care, and he almost passed the fuck out when he thought about how much of a blessing you were, something he’d be a fool not to snatch up and take as he nearly fucking proposed to you in the middle of the sanctuary like an idiot, not knowing at all how a person that pissed people off for a living was loved by a woman who was the definition of pure.

because how the fuck did an angry dunce like him, get lucky with an angel like you?

“oh my god that dumbass kid is climbin’ the fence again— oi!”

katsuki quickly kissed your cheek before flying to the other side of the sanctuary, you doubling over in laughter as you watched him fight and tug and pull, your student not budging at all whatsoever and the rest of the kids laughing at how red katsuki was getting in the face.

“miss pretty!” milo tugged at your overalls, and you looked down to see him holding up his open journal, a cute wobbly sketch of a koi fish on the page as he smiled big. “i drew it! do you like it?!”

“wow milo!” you gushed, crouching down to his level and taking the journal, examining his artwork. “this is beautiful my love! see? i knew you could do it!”

“thank youuu!” he responded sweetly, his little cheeks blushing as he looked at you like he had another thing he wanted to say.

you tilted your head. “do you wanna tell me something else?”

“yeaaahhh.” he dragged. “please love my dad… i know he’s mean but— but he doesn’t mean it!”

your eyes softened as milo looked down at his shoes.

“and love me too… because i want you to be my new mommy…”

you quickly blinked back tears as to not alarm milo, surprisingly successful at preventing them from slipping down your face.

“i do love your dad honey… and you. the both of you i love so so much.”

he beamed. “really?!”

you nodded, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. “and i thought i was already your mommy milo!”

the little man gasped and flung his arms around your neck.

“YAAAYYY!” he yelled. “miss pretty is my mommy! i have a mommy now!”

ever since you came into katsuki’s life, his way of living materialized into something completely different.

because now instead of his house being plain and boring and organized from top to bottom without a single thing out of place— it was warm now… happy. and never went a day without smelling like cookies and vanilla as you and katsuki baked with milo any chance you could, set up more pillow forts and tents with starry ceilings, and slept with milo in his room as he snored content in his little bed, you sprawled directly on top of katsuki like he always had you as you both every day intended to leave after putting his son to rest, but ending up falling asleep on the floor each time.

the three of you were a little family.

and katsuki didn’t know why he hated messes so much in the first place.

because mess signified that something had been there, something sunny and tender, something that signified family as you peppered kisses over both your boys’ faces everyday and katsuki drowning you in his rough ones— your man squeezing you so tight all of the time and anywhere, as milo wasn’t just his son now but yours too as you took him to the park or to the aquarium on your days off, the three of you gently living as both of milo’s small hands were occupied now instead of just one.

katsuki’s life looked like it had been generously cherished and lived in for a change.

and katsuki bakugo loved messes.

so as long as they were from you.

taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):

@cupcaketeddybehr @soobiary @roachfun @waterfal-ling @saebaey @reneinii @luvvmae @cake-with-the-cream @pixie-dix @2ukika @cramelmacchiao @hy3phiren @umemiaa @wil10wthetree @jameinfrau @pancakeszs @drftnzume @k0z3me @k4zivy @dindjarins1ut @starrnai @tinyray-lovesfood @iloveoldermenn @dazqa @applepi25 @aria-chikage @blu3-l0v3r @rose-tinted-kalopsia @runfrme @unofficialsapphire @dee-writes-anime @megumisluciouslashes @peachyaeger @yourstru1y4ever

[timelessjk]

somehow, you. | jungkook au

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ summary: he was the quiet one in class. the type who never talked unless called on, who looked at the world from behind thick-rimmed glasses and stayed out of everyone’s way. you? you were the girl everyone knew. the one who never let anyone in. you weren’t looking for connection, and he wasn’t the kind to ask for it. but still… he did. and somehow, it worked.

ratings: 18+

pairing: jungkook x fem reader

genre: college AU, emotional intimacy, slightly slow burned.

warnings: explicit sexual content including unprotected sex (not advised), soft but possessive dirty talk, emotional vulnerability, praise, mild insecurity and reassurance, and a rough but tender dynamic in an established relationship. and ofc…big dicc jungkook cause UGH.

word count: 5.2k

a/n: hi! ok so. this is my very first fic i’m posting and i’m actually kind of losing my mind about it?? originally it was supposed to be two parts (pt.1 soft, pt.2 smut) but i got carried away and ended up writing it all in one go because i wouldn’t shut up abt this two!!

*banners/dividers credits to the owners ♡ ྀི

thank you for reading!! leave your comments on what u think of my first fic 🥺! 🤍 - Sher

requests are officially opened!

The classroom always smelled like old air and pen inks, a familiar background hum to every forgettable weekday morning.

You sat at the back, as always, where you could stretch your legs, twirl your pen, and zone out without anyone bothering you. People knew you, too well.

Not because you tried, but because the world couldn’t help but notice the girl who always seemed a little untouchable.

Then the teacher changed the seating plan.

“Jeon Jungkook. You’re moving to the back, beside her.”

A ripple of murmurs went through the class, subtle but present. You could feel the stares. You looked up just in time to see him glance nervously your way before lowering his eyes and walking toward the seat beside you.

Jungkook. Everyone knew who he was, even if he rarely spoke. Top of the class. Never late. Always dressed clean, minimal, quiet. You didn’t expect anything from him. Didn’t need another nerdy guy going stiff just because you shared a desk.

But that day, he surprised you.

He sat down carefully, barely making a sound, and opened his book. No fidgeting. No glances. Just… stillness. Until you heard the smallest breath of a murmur.

“Chapter’s interesting,” he said, eyes still on the page.

You blinked.

“What?”

He didn’t flinch. “The reading. It’s good. Surprising, kind of.”

You studied him, confused. He hadn’t even looked at you. It was like he wasn’t trying to talk to you—just thinking aloud, and you happened to hear.

You didn’t answer.

But your curiosity flickered.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊⊹ꮺ˚

The next few days, he didn’t speak again. But he was always on time. Always glancing at your desk when he thought you weren’t looking—quick, nervous flicks of his eyes.

Then came the Wednesday.

You’d forgotten your pens, bag full of it. Not on purpose—just one of those mornings where you left everything behind. You muttered something under your breath, frustrated, and slammed your bag down.

Before you could think to dig through your things again, a sleek black pen rolled across your desk.

You turned. Jungkook was still facing forward, penless himself now.

“You sure?” you asked, surprised.

He nodded once. “I have another.”

You waited for a smile. A joke. Some kind of flirtation.

Nothing.

Just a calm silence.

It threw you off more than someone asking for your number ever could.

Then came the Thursday rainstorm.

You stayed behind after class, waiting for it to ease, stuck at the school’s entrance while thunder rumbled in the distance. Everyone else had already left, except for him.

He walked up beside you without a word, holding an umbrella. For a second, you thought he was going to walk past.

He hesitated.

“You live near East Gate, right?” he asked, voice low, eyes on the rain.

You narrowed your eyes. “How do you know that?”

He shrugged. “I’ve seen you leave that way. Every day.”

You didn’t answer.

He tilted the umbrella slightly toward you. “Come on.”

You stared at him like he’d grown two heads. But you followed.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊⊹ꮺ˚

That walk changed everything.

He didn’t try to impress you. Didn’t pry. Just walked beside you, holding the umbrella with quiet precision to make sure it covered you both.

When you reached your turn, you stopped.

“Why’re you doing this?” you asked, genuinely confused.

He paused. Looked at you for the first time, really looked. Eyes soft behind his wet fringe.

“Because you look like no one ever asks how you’re doing,” he said. “And i kind of want to.”

You stood frozen as he walked away, raindrops hitting your shoulders after the umbrella disappeared with him down the path.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊⊹ꮺ˚

From then on, he became your quiet shadow.

Always beside you in class. But not in a clingy way. He respected your space but showed up when it mattered.

One morning, you came in late, eyes puffy from a night you didn’t want to talk about. You slumped into your chair, hoodie up, bare faced (that rarely happens whenever you go to class) sleeves tugged over your hands.

He didn’t say anything.

But when you finally looked at your desk, there was a folded note, written in perfect; clean handwriting.

“It’s okay to have days like this. You’re allowed to fall apart sometimes. I’ve got notes if you need them.”

You folded the paper slowly. Pressed your lips together. And something inside you melted.

You weren’t used to being seen like that.

You weren’t used to someone not asking for anything in return.

That day, you turned to him and whispered, “Thanks.” giving him a small smile.

He looked up, startled, as if he wasn’t expecting you to respond.

He then smiled, unsure, but real.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊⊹ꮺ˚

You think to yourself, you might fell for him. Maybe. Which is a weird feeling to you.

Given that you both barely have a proper (real) conversation.

Well you did exchange numbers—that’s because you both somehow were assigned to work together, so Jungkook thought it would be better to interact outside of class.

For study purpose of course.

Eventually both of you did text one another occasionally. Just short texts nothing conversation worthy.

Yeah, you felt this weird butterflies.

But, you didn’t fall all at once.

It happened slowly. Over study sessions you didn’t consider were study sessions, coffee walks that became routines, quiet texts late at night when he’d ask, “Did you eat today?” and would not stop asking until you said yes.

Over the time, during study sessions, you found yourself laughing around him. Trusting him.

Letting your guard down without realizing it had dropped.

One night, you asked through text, in your bed, loneliness crept again, “You know i’m kind of… a mess, right?”

He replied few seconds too fast.

“I know,” he said. “But you’re the kind of mess that makes sense to me.”

And you fell.

Quietly. Completely.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊⊹ꮺ˚

You weren’t sure when the lines blurred. When study sessions became excuses to sit a little closer, or when shared coffee turned into shared glances.

Jungkook didn’t rush anything. He never did.

But one Friday, something shifted.

He caught up with you after class, his hoodie sleeves pushed halfway up, headphones around his neck, looking nervous in a way that made your heart weirdly ache.

“Hey,” he said, walking beside you. “There’s this exhibition at the design building… the one with digital installations. I thought maybe you’d like it.”

You turned to look at him. “You inviting me?”

He nodded, looking at the floor. “If you want. No pressure. It’s tomorrow.”

You almost teased him. Almost said something sarcastic just to keep things from feeling too serious. But something in the way he looked open, nervous. The sincere in his eyes made you soften.

“Yeah,” you said. “I’d like that.”

⋆. 𐙚 ̊⊹ꮺ˚

The exhibition was small. Kind of quiet but dreamy.

Digital light shifted across the walls like watercolor in motion. Projected clouds drifted across the floor.

Every room had its own ambient sound. It’s soft, with the electronic music and echoing whispers. It should’ve felt awkward, being alone together in that hush.

But with him, it didn’t.

You stood in one of the installations surrounded by cascading lines of digital rain, blue and silver glowing all around and he looked at you like he wanted to remember the moment.

“I like this,” you said quietly.

He glanced at the ceiling, then back at you. “Me too.”

A beat passed.

“Honestly… i didn’t know if you’d say yes,” he admitted. “To coming here.”

You tilted your head. “Why not?”

He looked at you. “Because i’m not like the other people you talk to.”

“You mean the loud ones? I don’t talk to just anyone, anymore. Besides, didn’t we spend a good amount of time together for the past month to be considered as…friends?”

He smiled, barely. “Yeah. The ones who know what to say. And yeah i knew that but still, i thought it was just a study session, coffee catch ups with you—that you’d rather spend your time with your other…friends.”

You shifted your weight. “Maybe i got tired of people who always know what to say and FYI, i’d rather spend my time with you.”

Silence.

Just the sound of soft electronic rainfall.

Then he said it so low you almost missed it.

“I really like being around you.”

You turned to him, heart suddenly too loud in your chest.

He’s so dreamy, handsome.

“I really like being around you too.”

And he looked at you like you’d just said the one thing he’d been waiting to hear.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊⊹ꮺ˚

Your first kiss wasn’t at the exhibition.

That night had already held enough. The way he kept sneaking glances at you while pretending to read the plaque beside a sculpture, the way his hand hovered close to yours but never quite touched.

You walked the whole gallery like that, quiet but full of something neither of you wanted to name yet.

Later, he offered to walk you home. You said yes.

The air was cold but not bitter, the city dim and quiet in that in-between hour.

Your footsteps echoed against the pavement, your breath blooming white in the air. He kept his hands in his coat pockets, close but not brushing yours.

“Did you like the exhibit?” he asked, his voice low and a little shy.

“I did,” you said. “But i think i liked walking around with you more.”

He turned his head slightly, surprised. “Yeah?”

You nodded, not looking at him. “It was… nice. I don’t usually do things like that. With people.”

Jungkook was quiet for a moment. Then “You mean dates?”

You blinked. “Was this a date?”

His voice went even softer. “I wanted it to be.”

You stopped walking. Your apartment was just ahead, but you didn’t want to go in yet. The moment felt full.

Suspended.

He looked at you, eyes searching. “Can I be honest?”

You tilted your head. “Aren’t you always?” you giggled.

He smiled faintly. “I think about you a lot more than i should.”

You swallowed. “What does that mean?”

“It means i’ve liked you for a while. Even before you started talking to me.”

“You’re not exactly… forward, you know.”

“I didn’t think i was your type.”

“You’re not,” you said simply. “At least, not what i thought my type was.”

His expression didn’t change much, but you saw the flicker of hope behind his eyes.

You glanced down at your keys, twisting them between your fingers. “You’ve been patient with me.”

“I don’t mind waiting,” he said. “But sometimes i think… i just want to know if i’m the only one feeling this.”

You looked at him then. Really looked.

His scarf was wrapped high, almost to his mouth. His cheeks were pink from the cold, eyes warm, uncertain, but wide open.

He wasn’t trying to be smooth. He was just there, telling you the truth.

So then, slowly and tentatively, he stepped closer, his breath shallow.

His voice barely carried “Can I kiss you?”

You felt everything in you pause.

And then “Yeah,” you said softly, heart pounding.

“Yeah, you can.”

He didn’t hesitate after that. He leaned in, hand rising to your cheek, thumb brushing gently across your skin. His lips met yours in a kiss that was soft, slow, careful.

He was learning something sacred; he didn’t want to rush what he’d waited so long to feel.

When he pulled back, your lips still tingled from the warmth of him, your chest full and fluttering.

You smiled, breath curling in the air. “You always this careful?”

His voice was low, but sure. “Only when it’s important.”

And you knew, right then, it was.

You didn’t talk much after that kiss.

Not because it was awkward. Because it wasn’t. It was the kind of silence that wrapped itself around you like a blanket. Soft, steady, enough.

He waited for you to open the door. Didn’t push. Just gave you that small smile, the one he only ever gave you and said, “Text me when you’re inside.”

You nodded, stepped in, and closed the door.

Then leaned your forehead against it.

You were in trouble.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊⊹ꮺ˚

The next few days were different in all the ways that mattered.

You still sat beside each other in class. Still studied together in the library. But now there were new things. A small, subtle shifts.

His knee brushed against yours and didn’t move. He’d lean in when he spoke, voice softer. You’d catch him looking at you, and this time, you didn’t look away.

You weren’t used to this version of yourself; unguarded. And Jungkook, for all his quietness, seemed to understand that.

He never rushed you. Never asked “what are we?” or “where is this going?”

He just stayed.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊⊹ꮺ˚

It wasn’t planned.

The day had been normal. Classes, campus noise, another group project that had you rolling your eyes while Jungkook just quietly took notes. He always took notes, even when no one else cared. You liked that about him. You’d never told him.

You were both walking back from campus, the sky soft with evening gray, when it started to drizzle.

Jungkook held his bag over your head.

You laughed. “You know i’m not gonna melt, right?”

He just looked down at you. “You’re still cold when it rains. You get quiet.”

You didn’t answer. Mostly because he was right. You did get quiet.

And he noticed.

By the time you reached your apartment, your hair was damp, and your mood had shifted. You weren’t sad, just heavy.

One of those days. You didn’t say much as you opened the door and let him in.

Jungkook toed off his shoes carefully, still holding that nervous energy he always carried when he was in your space. You dropped your keys in the bowl by the door and stood in the kitchen, hands on the counter.

“Want tea?” you asked.

He nodded. “Yeah. That’d be nice.”

The silence between you was soft. Not tense. Just full of all the things you weren’t ready to say out loud. You made tea. He sat at the table. You sat across from him, knees brushing under the wood.

Then, out of nowhere, you said it.

“I don’t let people in.”

He looked up, startled. You weren’t looking at him—just staring into your mug.

“I don’t know how to do that,” you continued. “It’s easier when no one expects anything.”

He stares.

“I never expected anything,” he said.

You finally looked at him. He looked… calm. A little sad. But calm.

“I just liked being around you.”

You nodded slowly. “You still do?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Even more now.”

The air between you shifted. Slowed. Deepened.

And you whispered, “Stay tonight?”

He didn’t ask questions.

So he said, “Okay.”

⋆. 𐙚 ̊⊹ꮺ˚

You sat on the floor of your bedroom while he changed into the extra clothes you gave him. A quiet hum played from the speaker, barely audible.

When he stepped back into the room; barefoot, hoodie sleeves pushed up, eyes soft, you suddenly felt that aching fear again.

What if you messed this up?

What if it didn’t last?

And then he crossed the room and knelt in front of you.

His hand rested gently on your knee. “You don’t have to be anything for me,” he said quietly. “You don’t have to perform. Or smile. Or fix anything.”

You looked down at your lap, fighting the warmth in your throat.

“I don’t know how to do this,” you admitted.

“I’ll wait while you figure it out,” he said.

Just like that.

No grand declaration. Just steady, honest patience.

You reached for his hand and held it.

When you finally crawled into bed beside him, there was no space left between you. You pressed your back to his chest, his arm wrapping loosely around your waist. His breath tickled your shoulder.

“You okay?” he whispered.

“Yeah,” you whispered back. You meant it.

You woke to the quiet shift of fabric. The soft sound of him sitting up beside you.

Morning light filtered through the curtains in a pale blur. Your back was still warm from where his arm had rested. You blinked slowly, your mind caught between dreams and now.

Jungkook was already awake, hoodie wrinkled, hair messy from sleep.

He was sitting at the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his knees, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve.

He looked like he was thinking too loud.

You propped yourself up on your elbow. “Hey,” you said, voice scratchy.

He turned to you immediately, like he’d been waiting. “Hey,” he echoed. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

You sat up slowly, pulling the blanket around your shoulders. “You okay?”

He nodded. Then shook his head. Then let out a quiet breath, like he wasn’t sure how to start.

“Can i ask you something?” he said softly.

You stilled, heart already beginning to tap faster in your chest. “Yeah.”

He looked down at his hands, picking at a loose thread on the cuff of his sleeve.

“I don’t want to ruin anything. I’m not trying to pressure you,” he started, voice careful. “But… what are we?”

You didn’t answer right away.

His eyes lifted. “I just…last night meant something to me. You mean something to me. And i know you don’t let people in easily. So i don’t want to assume anything, but i also don’t want to keep pretending this is just… nothing.”

You watched him for a moment, your throat tight.

“I didn’t think you’d ask,” you murmured.

“Why not?”

“Because you’re usually the quiet one. Yknow.. the patient one.”

“I still am,” he said. “But being patient doesn’t mean I’m not feeling things too.”

You swallowed, fingers tugging at the edge of the blanket. “I’m not good at this. I don’t know how to explain what i feel when i’m with you. It’s new. And a little scary.”

He nodded slowly. “Same.”

You looked at him. “But i don’t want it to be nothing either.”

Jungkook’s expression softened. “Yeah?”

You nodded, quieter this time. “Yeah.”

He shifted closer, his knee bumping gently against yours. “Then maybe… we don’t have to label it yet. But I just needed to know i wasn’t alone in it.”

“You’re not,” you said.

You meant it.

Jungkook exhaled a breath he’d been holding. Then reached out, tentative at first and he curls his fingers around yours.

“Okay,” he said, voice warm now. “Then i’m yours. However long it takes.”

You smiled, eyes stinging just a little. “You’re really not what i expected.”

He grinned finally, “I get that a lot.”

And in the quiet that followed, your fingers remained laced with his.

And for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel like you had to run.

It had been a month.

One month since Jungkook had leaned across your front step and kissed you like it mattered. Since he’d touched your face like he was afraid you’d vanish if he blinked too fast.

And somehow, things still felt new. It’s still unreal in moments like now, with him sprawled across your bed in a hoodie, reading on his stomach, feet swaying behind him like a kid.

You were half-working on an assignment, half-watching him.

“You’re staring,” he said without looking up.

“I’m admiring,” you corrected.

He turned his head just enough to catch your smirk, then gave a small smile. “Baby,” he said under his breath, “you’re distracting.”

“You like it,” you replied, nudging his leg with your foot.

He hummed. “I do.”

⋆. 𐙚 ̊⊹ꮺ˚

Your relationship had grown into something… daily. Quiet rituals that made your chest ache. He’d walk you to class with your fingers looped in his sleeve. He’d wait for you outside the library, sipping iced coffee and reading the latest novel you lent him. You started wearing his hoodies without asking. He stopped looking surprised when you kissed his cheek mid-sentence.

But even with the sweetness, there was still something unspoken hanging between you.

Something warmer.

Like tonight.

He was still lying on your bed when you finally gave up pretending to work and climbed over him, plopping yourself beside his back with a sigh.

He closed his book and peeked at you. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you murmured. “You’re just comfy.”

He let out a soft laugh. “You say that every time you use me as a pillow.”

“Because it’s true, baby.”

You shifted, laying your head against his back. Your palm flattened over his spine.

Jungkook went still for a second and then melted.

“Do you…” you hesitated, unsure why your throat suddenly felt tight, “do you ever want to do more than just lie here?”

He was silent for a moment.

Then, softly: “Yeah. I do.”

You sat up a little, just enough to look at him.

His cheeks were already flushed.

“I just never know if you’re comfortable,” intertwining your fingers together.

“Or if you want to. I’ve never really… gotten this far before.” he added.

You blinked. “You haven’t?”

He shook his head. “I’ve dated a few, but it never got serious. And no one ever really looked at me like you do.”

That last part made your chest squeeze.

“You mean like you hung the stars?” you teased gently.

He smiled, eyes shy. “Kind of, yeah.”

You reached out, brushing your fingers through his hair. “You’re not the only nervous one, baby.”

“I’m not?”

You shook your head. “I’ve been with my fair share of…flings? boyfriends? whatever you wanna call it—but it never felt right nor did it worked out, obviously. It always felt like they expected something from me. You don’t.”

Jungkook shifted, sitting up properly now. You were both facing each other, legs crossed.

“Can i ask you something?” he said quietly.

You nodded.

His voice was careful. “If we… wanted to try something. Anything. Would you tell me if you weren’t ready?”

“Always,” you promised.

He reached forward, brushing a thumb against your cheek. “Okay.”

You leaned into his palm.

And after a beat, you whispered, “Would you kiss me now?”

His lips twitched. “I’d give you anything you want.”

When he kissed you slow and warm, one hand still cupping your jaw, it felt like everything in the world slowed down. Like it was just you and him, tangled in hush and trust.

You shifted closer, your hand slipping beneath the hem of his hoodie, resting just above his waistband. You felt him freeze, just slightly.

“Too much?” you whispered.

“No,” he breathed. “Just new.”

You smiled into the kiss. “We’ll take it slow.”

“Promise?” he breathes into the kiss.

“Promise.”

And when he pulled you fully into his lap, burying his face in your neck with a soft laugh, it felt like something more than new.

It happened on a night that didn’t feel special; no candles, no dramatic music, just the two of you in your room after dinner, legs tangled on your bed, warm with laughter and full from pasta Jungkook had insisted on cooking himself.

He was wearing gray sweatpants and one of your oversized shirts, sleeves pushed up, his hair messily falling across his forehead.

You had just pulled him down for a kiss. Playful, slow.

But then it lingered. Deepened.

And something shifted.

His tongue slipped against yours, deliberate. His hand came up to cup the back of your neck, pulling you closer like he couldn’t help himself anymore.

When you whimpered against his lips, he pulled back slightly, gaze heavy-lidded.

“You okay?” he asked, voice low and rough.

You nodded, breathless. “Yeah. Just… wasn’t expecting you to kiss me like that.”

He brushed your cheek with his thumb. “Like what?”

“Like you’ve been waiting to.”

“I have been,” he murmured. “For so fucking long.”

Your chest tightened, breath caught in your throat.

“We’ve kissed many, many times before?,” you giggled.

And then his lips was on yours again, more desperate this time.

Jungkook leaned over you, pressing you into the mattress, his body slotting between your thighs like it was instinct.

You felt how hard he was through the thin fabric of your shorts. He wasn’t trying to hide it. He wanted you to feel it.

“Jungkook,” you breathed, tugging at his shirt. “Please.”

He sat back just enough to yank it over his head, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. “You sure?”

“Baby,” you said, reaching for him again, “I’ve never been more sure.”

Something in his expression cracked open at that relief, hunger, something fierce and protective all at once.

“Then let me have you,” he said, voice dark, breath ragged. “Let me fuck you like you deserve.”

The way he said it, with need dripping into every syllable made your whole body shudder.

He tugged your shorts down fast, your panties going with them. When you gasped, he kissed the inside of your thigh, then hovered over you again, his cock straining visibly in his sweats.

“God,” he whispered, eyes raking over you. “You’re so fucking pretty like this. Laid out for me.”

Your hands reached for him, desperate. “I want you, Jungkook. I don’t wanna wait.”

“You won’t,” he said, voice curling around you like silk and smoke.

He shoved his pants down just enough to free himself, stroking himself slowly as he stared at you.

“You’ve got no idea what you do to me,” he murmured. “No idea how long i wanna be inside you.”

You reached between your legs, spreading yourself open for him.

His mouth dropped open slightly. “Fuck.”

He lined himself up, eyes locked on yours. “Tell me if i go too fast, okay?”

You nodded, heart hammering. “I trust you.”

That did something to him.

He pushed in slow, deep, all at once.

Your breath hitched, legs trembling.

“Holy fuck,” Jungkook groaned, head falling to your shoulder. “You feel like heaven. So wet for me already.”

You clung to him, nails dragging lightly down his back.

“Move,” you gasped. “I need you.”

He obeyed without hesitation, pulling back, then slamming into you again with a rhythm that made your head spin.

It was hard and deep. Like he knew exactly how to tear you apart and put you back together.

“Baby,” he breathed, panting against your throat, “you’re taking me so well.”

You moaned, legs tightening around him.

“You always this tight, or is it just for me?”

“Only you,” you choked out, voice cracking. “Only ever been like this for you.”

That made him growl.

“You feel perfect. Like you’re made for me.”

Every thrust dragged a whimper from your lips. Every kiss to your neck made you melt further under him.

You could feel how careful he was, even in the roughness. Like he wanted you to feel claimed, but not hurt. Never that.

“You like when i talk like this?” he asked, voice low in your ear.

“Yes,” you moaned. “Fuck, Jungkook.”

“You make me lose my mind, princess. Got me thinking about you all day. Couldn’t wait to fuck you full of my come inside.”

Your back arched, nails digging into his shoulders.

He shifted his hips, angling deeper. “You gonna come for me like this? Gonna come on my cock hm?”

You nodded desperately, tears brimming at the corners of your eyes. “Yes….don’t stop.”

“Look at me,” he whispered.

You did.

And in the silence that followed, he slowed down, but pressed in deep and stayed there.

His body trembled above yours, like he was holding something that wasn’t his release, but something heavier.

You cupped his cheek gently. “Jungkook?”

His voice broke.

“I love you,” he whispered; then again, faster, almost panicked. “I love you so much it’s scaring me.”

You stared up at him, eyes wide.

“I—” His throat worked as he swallowed, his brows drawn tight with emotion. “I never thought i’d have this. You. I never thought someone like you would ever even look at me.”

“Jungkook—”

“I used to watch you,” he continued, voice cracking. “In class. You were always so confident. So distant. But then you sat next to me,” he growled. “God, i still remember the way you looked that day. I thought it was a joke. Like there’s no way you would sit beside me.”

Your chest ached. He kept going.

“But you did. You stayed. You talked to me. You let me see pieces of you no one else gets to. And i still don’t know why. I still think maybe you’ll wake up and realize you could do better and just… leave.”

You shook your head, eyes stinging.

“But you don’t,” he whispered. “You stayed. You’ve been patient with me when i don’t know what to say. You still kiss me like i matter.”

His voice dropped lower, barely a breath.

“I don’t know what i did to deserve you. But fuck—i’m so glad you exist. I’m so glad you sat next to me.”

Your lips parted, but nothing came out.

He saw the silence as hesitation, and something in his face crumpled.

“It’s okay,” he said quickly, pulling back just slightly. “You don’t have to say it back. I just….i needed you to know. Even if i’m not what you expected. Even if I’m not enough.”

And that’s when it hit you.

This boy; this quiet, soft-hearted boy had been holding it in for months.

You surged up and kissed him.

You kissed him like you were giving him an answer.

He gasped against your lips when you pulled away.

“I love you,” you whispered. “Are you kidding? You’re everything i want and more.”

He blinked, stunned.

“I didn’t say it sooner because i was scared i’d ruin this,” you said. “But Jungkook… you are everything i could ever ask for.”

He let out a shaky breath, half a laughing, half a sobbing as he kissed you again, deeper this time, needily.

You weren’t sure what hurt more. The way he was moving inside you, or the way he was looking at you.

Like you were something he’d never believed he could have.

Every thrust was deep, steady, but trembling with emotion. He was holding on for dear life. His forehead pressed to yours, sweat on his brow, his breath hot and uneven.

“God,” Jungkook groaned, voice raw, “you feel so good, too good.”

You cupped his face again, thumbs brushing over his flushed cheeks. “You can let go. i’ve got you.”

But he didn’t. Not yet.

“I don’t want this to end,” he whispered. “I don’t want us to end.”

“We won’t,” you said softly. “I’m right here baby.”

He choked on a breath, hips stuttering. “I’ve never… never loved anyone like this.”

You nodded, tears welling. “Me either.”

And still, he didn’t stop moving. Not when your body clung to his like a prayer, as your nails curled against his back, while your lips parted with little gasps that sounded like his name.

“Let go, baby,” you whispered. “I want you to come inside. Cmon baby.”

His pace faltered; sharper, desperate. “Can’t believe you’re mine,” he breathed. “Can’t believe it’s you.”

Then, with a deep groan against your neck, he finally gave in as he shuddered in your arms, body tensing, spilling into you like it was all too much and not enough at once.

You held him through it.

Through the tremble in his limbs.

He whispered “I love you” that followed on the heels release. Ropes of come dripping out as he pulls out slowly then inside again. You moaned at the sensation.

He didn’t move for a while. He just stayed there, inside you, wrapped around you, like he couldn’t stand to lose the warmth.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered, stroking his hair. “You don’t have to hold on so tight.”

He nuzzled into your shoulder. “I want to, though.”

“I know,” you smiled. “Me too.”

Eventually, he shifted, settling beside you, your bodies still tangled beneath the blankets.

The silence was heavy but comforting. No more fear. No more holding back.

Just breathing. Together.

You turned to look at him, and he was already watching you.

“What?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

He traced your jaw with his thumb, eyes soft.

“Out of everyone in this whole world… somehow, it was you.”

Your chest ached.

You kissed him, slow and deep and sure.

And you thought, yeah.

Somehow, it was him too.

[mncxbe]

# . ݁₊ ⊹When you transferred to Shiratorizawa during your second year you didn't expect to have a full blown crash out in the first week. As a new student, there were many things you needed to take care of— bringing documents back and forth from the secretary's office to the medic to the PE teacher. Just as you were entering the gym to drop off the last papers, the file tucked between your chest and the cup of iced coffee in your hand, scrolling on your phone, a volley ball came crashing against you. You froze, looking down at the coffee spilled over uniform and documents before looking up to see a guy jogging towards you. "Sorry, miss–" he began but you quickly cut him off, throwing your hands up in the air.

"Dude what's wrong with you? Can't you aim?" you huffed angrily, cringing at the feeling of the wet shirt clinging to your skin. "I was literally on the side of the court didn't you see me there?"

And so you went off at the massive guy in front of the whole volleyball team until you eventually stormed out of the gym, your face flushed from anger. Unbeknownst to you, Wakatoshi Ushijima was hooked. Staring aimlessly at your shrinking figure, anxiously grasping the volley ball in his hands, Ushijima tried to make sense of the strange flutter in his chest. And from that day on he followed you around like a puppy, his sharp gaze finding you in the cafeteria during every break. Despite his friends' taunts and comments about how whipped he was for the new mean girl in school he always came to sit by your side, bringing you a little treat— a soda, milk bread or whatever cake the cafeteria was selling that day. You thought it odd at first but figured he wanted to make up for the unfortunate accident on the day you met so you let him stay.

And Ushijima stays, silently at first, looking over your frame with that stoic expression of his, his eyes following your manicured nails tapping relentlessly at your phone. "Do you have something to say or what?" you snap after a few days of this behaviour, looking him over and Ushijima feels dizzy from how pretty you look with your brows pinched together and that angry little pout on your face. "I was wondering if you don't like the fruit cake. You haven't touched it."

You roll your eyes, pushing the cake towards him. "I don't eat kiwi, it's gross." Ushijima nods, staring blankly at the tart as he rubs his hands together. "They don't have anything else today." he begins and before you can spit another biting comment he speaks up again. "Maybe we could grab something else after class? If you want."

The captain's words make you pause for a second, his earnest look softening your anger. You finally notice how nervous he seems, fidgeting under the small table in the cafeteria while waiting for an answer. Then it occurs to you that maybe you are too bitchy to him— after all, why hold a grudge against some guy who you just met? One who was handsome, polite and bought you sweets too. So instead of throwing another scathing remark at him you nod. "Alright. But only if there's no tart."

Ushijima visibly relaxes at your approval, a small, hopeful smile tugging at his lips. "Yea, no tart. Got it."

Yea, his friends were right. He was totally whipped.