#then notices cloud and says ‘but you’re not interested in this are you’ and he just bluntly replies ‘not really’ and then after a second of

[daylighteclipsed]

I doubt the devs meant for cloud strife to be so autistic-coded, but holy hell does he come across autistic

[readwritealldayallnight]

(part of the ‘Wife at First Sight Series’)

For the first time in a long time, Simon feels as if he’s walking on eggshells

He’s 6’4”, easily over 200 pounds of bulking muscle, strikes fear into the heart of each and every enemy he comes across (should they live to tell the tale that is), and yet he feels as though he’s tiptoeing, practically dancing around the issue he refuses to address

Yet you make him feel this way

It’s been months now, of this dance you still haven’t realized you’re apart of, shining on centre stage under the constant spotlight of Simon Riley’s attention, rather than one of the background performers as you seem to believe

He feels as though he’s done everything he can to get the point across to you, other than literally getting down on one knee and asking you those four special words he can’t seem to get himself to speak out loud

As easy as it is to pretend you two truly are husband and wife ‘til death do you part, he’s instead having to watch you leave base in exchange for your lonely flat each night, reminded of the fact that he’s not ballsy enough to just come out and say it to you

You make the Lieutenant nervous for fucks sake, something he hasn’t truly felt in so long he’s grasping for straws, searching for a life raft in these uncharted waters to help him stay afloat

That’s part of why he’s so confused when Gaz finally joins him and Soap in the gun range, landing a friendly smack across the taller man’s broad shoulders, saying something about how he’s ‘really happy for you LT, finally properly asked her, aye?’

“What are you goin’ on about?” Ghost practically grunts out, readjusting the weapon against his shoulder as he glances through the scope of his gun, only partly interested in what the Sergeants answer is, that is until he hears him mention your name

“Just saw her at her desk, talkin’ about how she has a wedding this weekend-” Gaz has barely finished his sentence before Ghost is whipping his skull clad head around, shoving his weapon into Soap’s arms, and beelining out of the armoury towards you, leaving a pair of chuckling Sergeants behind him

They’ve never seen their Lieutenant so whipped before. And the fact that you don’t even know you have this beast of a man wrapped around your dainty little finger makes it all the more entertaining for them

They totally haven’t taken bets on how long it takes for him to break and finally confess his feelings, and Price definitely didn’t put money down on it either

Ghost may as well float into the room on a cloud he’s feeling so overjoyed at the idea of finding you sat at your desk all pretty, chit chatting away with colleagues about the wedding you’ve finally realized he intends to give you, taking all the pressure off of him

Instead, he rounds the corner and overhears the last tidbits of your conversation, pretending as though his stomach doesn’t drop out of him and onto the floor when he realizes you’re telling your desk mate about your sisters wedding this weekend

He should’ve know better, it wouldn’t be that easy

“-not that I’m embarrassed to go without someone. That I don’t care so much about.” He hears you explain, failing to have noticed him behind you quite yet. “God knows it’s been ages since I’ve gone on an actual date anyways. But this is the first time I’m a bridesmaid, and my sister keeps saying I’m apparently the only bridesmaid without a date-”

“Well aren’t you going to bring your husband?” Your colleague asks, cutting you off. Just like everyone else on base, she knows thinks you are in fact Mrs Riley, for all intents and purposes. You open your mouth to correct her and tell her you don’t have a husband, when a deep voice comes up behind you and speaks first.

“‘Course she is.” Ghost replies for you, coming to stand behind you in your chair, sneaking a gloved hand onto your shoulder to offer a slight squeeze of acknowledgment. You lean your head back to glance up at him, offering a soft smile that melts his heart more and more each time he’s lucky enough to see it, to be the reason for it. Sensing she’s now the odd one out, your coworker quietly excuses herself and goes to find someone else to talk water cooler gossip with.

“Oh Ghost! Hi!” You say, reaching your own hand up to squeeze his in return, smile widening when you notice the crinkles next to his eyes that you hope mean he’s smiling as well under the mask. “Oh, you really don’t have to. I mean- I wouldn’t want you to waste a day off just to sit through a stranger’s wedding for who knows how many hours. I barely want to go.”

You try to joke about it, but this really has been causing you unnecessary stress. Your sister apparently doesn’t have enough wedding planning on her plate as it is, seeing as she has enough time to constantly pester you about whether you’ve secured a date yet or not, despite your answer always being no. She knows it’s been forever since you’ve dated anyone seriously, and that finding a date will be more of a chore than showing up without one and enduring your relative comments and questions.

Each time you told her no though, your mind wandered to the tall, dark, muscular man who liked to call himself your husband, imagining the looks on your family’s face if you were to show up with Ghost on your arm. But you never bothered to ask him, not wanting to force him into extending his kindness and charade of a happily married couple outside of work hours.

“I’d be with you for those ‘who knows how many hours?’” Ghost asks, quoting you, watching as you offer him a simple nod in return. “Then that’s the farthest thing from a waste o’ time in my books, love.”

As simple as that, the plan was set. Ghost would be your date to the wedding that weekend.

Now, Ghost was used to not having very much to look forward to in life. He could look forward to a hot shower occasionally, look forward to good pub food instead of mess hall dinners, look forward to a chance to sleep in a little later, simpler things of the sort.

But when you came into his life, he was suddenly looking forward to equally simple, but different things. He looked forward to reading your cute replies to his good morning and good night texts (he still never misses a single one, all these months later), looked forward to seeing your sweet smile greeting him when you arrived to work, looked forward to hearing your pleased hum when you took your first sip of whatever drink he prepared you that day. Essentially, he looked forward to seeing you.

Now though, he feels as if this weekend cannot come soon enough, finding himself practically giddy he’s looking forward to spending more time with you off base so much, feeling like a kid who’s itching to get their hands on their new Christmas gifts.

When he arrives at your flat almost a half hour too early (he just couldn’t wait anymore lovie, you can’t blame the poor man), and you open the door to greet him, he doesn’t think it’s fair to compare this to a gift under the Christmas tree.

No. It’s more like he’s won the goddamn lottery.

Standing before him, is the most beautiful, breathtaking vision he’s ever laid eyes upon in all his years. He half wonders if his knees are legitimately beginning to wobble where he stands, he feels so weak in the knees as he gazes upon you in your doorway. It’s still just you, the same woman he’s been seeing every day and dreaming of each night.

But you don’t look like you have every day these past months. Your hair is styled differently, your make up is a little more done up, and the thing that’s really got his mind reeling, is that instead of your regular work attire, you’re wearing a dress so stunning he half wonders whether or not you are the bride this evening. There’s no possible way someone so beautiful is expected to stand on the sidelines tonight, expected to be anyone apart from the star of the show, the centre of his the world.

You don’t take much notice of the way Ghost fails to greet you properly, standing outside your door and practically gawking at you, seeing as you’re preoccupied doing the same to him. His usual fatigues and black everything have been swapped out for black dress pants, a white button up shirt (your eyes definitely do not linger on the top three buttons being left undone, nope, not at all) and a black blazer, matching black surgical mask in exchange for the typical skeleton mask.

You two blushing, bumbling idiots in secret love manage to pull yourselves together enough to make the drive up to the venue, the car ride filled with laughter, stories, and too many stolen glances to count, each of you wishing you could pull the car over somewhere and jump each others bones instead.

At the venue, you go through the obligatory introductions with your family, simply so they couldn’t say you didn’t say hello at least once throughout the busy night, only partially intent on ignoring them later on. They’re left understandably stunned at the mention that the man beside you is your husband, and when your family members begin unloading question after question, the two of you manage to find a quick excuse each time to dash off, giggling and holding onto the other as you weave the growing crowd of guests, all too proud of your little inside joke.

You regretfully tell him that you’ll have to leave him to sit alone throughout the ceremony, though he insists you shouldn’t worry about it, lifting your spirits momentarily when he jokes that you should focus more on not tripping during your walk down the aisle, before the both of you are left bright red in the face at hearing him talking about you walking down an aisle, as if you don’t pretend to be married every day to begin with.

He truly doesn’t mind having to sit on the tiny foldable chairs that make up the seating for the ceremony, it’s only a small portion of the evening after all. And besides, his eyes certainly aren’t on the couple reciting their vows up at the altar. No, his gaze is on one person and one person only. From the moment the music kicked in and pairs of bridesmaids and groomsmen stepped out to walk the aisle in their matching attire and matching smiles, his eyes have been locked on you, just as yours have been locked on his.

His size certainly helped you pick him out of the crowd with more ease, finding him amongst the familiar and unfamiliar faces instantly, as though gravity was pulling your gaze in his direction alone. Later on, neither of you could even correctly point out amongst the groomsmen whose arm you were holding on to as you walked, attention only focused on each other.

Even as you stood up front, listening to your sister and new brother in law profess their love for the other, you tried your best to appear as though you were paying them your full attention, considering you were standing up at the front and all. But it was as though you could literally feel Ghost’s eyes on you the entire ceremony, unable to stop your eyes from straying towards him more times than was surely appropriate, feeling the heat of a blush creep over your cheeks every time you saw how devastatingly handsome he was today.

By the time the newlyweds are marching back down the aisle past their cheering loved ones, wedding party in tow, your eyes are no longer pretending to look anywhere other than at him. And Simon is looking back at you, but his mind is growing preoccupied, thinking of how he can finally ensure you’ll let him walk you down the aisle now.

Because in the glove compartment of the very car he drove you up here in, only inches away from your knees the entire drive, he’s tucked away a small little box, containing the exact ring you chose from the jeweller all those weeks ago. He carries it with him everywhere, eager for the moment, the opportunity to be lucky enough to truly call himself your husband and slip the band over your finger as his wife.

And he’s decided that tonight is the night he tells you.

The night he tells you this has never been a joke to him, never been anything apart from what he really wants to be true from the moment he saw you.

To call you his wife.

[jinwoosungs]

01/03/25; 10:00pm

{ drabbles / headcanons }

[ when they realize that you’re the true mc from behind the screen ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel

notes: this is just my own take on the self aware au! i know other creators who’ve written their own self aware au’s (and have executed them amazingly well!), but i hope that you readers will give my story a chance, too ♡

you never understood the hype that surrounded the game known as love and deepspace-

however, the moment sylus was announced as the newest love interest for this game-

to say you were mildly interested would have been the greatest understatement of the century. when his trailer was revealed, you swore you felt your knees clash together while basking in his pure, masculine beauty.

and his voice- dear god did it sound like pure silk against your ears!

needless to say, you downloaded lads the moment sylus dropped as the latest love interest. when you made your mc, you did your best to model her after your own appearance to the best of your abilities-

however, it seemed impossible to do.

the mc was just too petite and perfect, something that you could never achieve in real life. yet despite it all, you tried your best to customize her to match your features before starting the game. as you struggled with the missions in the main story, you were essentially grinding until the moment you could unlock sylus's story branch-

and the moment when you accomplished it, you were truly on cloud 9, taking an ungodly amount of screenshots each time sylus was on your phone's screen. you kept interacting with him in game, raising his affinity with you to level 50 in a mere few weeks.

it was embarrassing how much you adored this gorgeous man made up entirely of pixels. you always spent quality time with him, bringing him with you when you worked or had to study for an upcoming exam. each time you would glance at your phone and see his devastatingly handsome features cleaning his gun, you would grin and press a kiss on your screen (directly over his cheek!)

were you shameless for feeling so deeply about a fictional man-

absolutely yes. but did you care?

no.

after kissing sylus for what had to be the thousandth time that day, you would go back to your responsibilities, unaware that sylus could hear you and feel the sensation of your kisses against his cheek.

at first, it was maddening for sylus to realize that everything he's been through was made up by some writers at a company. every tragedy was forced upon him for the sake of a good story-

and he hated it.

he hated how his every word was essentially a script made up by that same company and how he was forced to interact with an mc that was just the same as the rest-

yet the moment he realized he could see you settled behind that woman's avatar-

sylus was intrigued, to say the least.

despite how you looked drastically different from the mc, something about you drew him to you more than the mc ever could. for starters, you were a true, living person who had a personality.

and you just seemed so alive each time sylus saw you. the more time he had spent with you, the more his feelings of curiosity turned into something tangible and real-

making sylus yearn for the day you would recognize him noticing you. he stops cleaning his gun just then, simply keeping his crimson gaze on your form as you wrote in your notebook. the hours continue to pass, yet sylus allows the quality time feature to go on even past the 30 minute mark, not stopping until you were done.

as your eyes go back to your phone, you were ready to quit the session when sylus purposely stops you, "no kiss this time? you wound me, little dove."

he basks in your wide eyed expression and the way your mouth was wide open in a gape, chuckling as you waved your hand over the screen-

and sylus was following your every movement.

"you can see me?"

"i think we've made that abundantly clear just now, little dove." he shakes his head, feeling his world tilt slightly when you pick up your phone.

"y-you just spoke to me, and i- i'm your little dove?" a dreamy expression crosses your features as you kept your gaze on sylus. he gives you a rare, tiny smile while reaffirming his nickname for you with a nod, "of course you are. you have always been my little dove since the moment i laid eyes on you."

a cute sound escapes from your parted lips, and he felt himself being jostled around when you began to spin while holding your phone. with his eyebrows lifted in response, he calls out your name while telling you, "you don't seem to be as panicked as i imagined."

"are you kidding me? i-" you cough and give him a sheepish expression, "i actually love you so much, and despite the weirdness of this all, i'm strangely happy."

your words succeed in making sylus feel warm inside-

and he knew he had to find a way to be with you soon.

zayne has always been aware of your existence, since you were a longtime player of his game and have spent most of your time together with him.

strangely enough, he took pride in having the highest affinity with you-

yet when you obtained any of the other love interest's memories, or spent some time with them-

a wave of jealousy would course through zayne's veins. he knew that he was programmed to always feel happy with whatever man you chose-

but he couldn't bring himself to let you go. after all, zayne knew that he loved you the most out of all of them.

he was the one who held your health and wellbeing above all else (even ignoring his own desires to see you during his quality time sessions with you.)

while working on his laptop at the cafe, he was aware of how late it was and was hoping that you were already safe and sound in bed-

so imagine his surprise when he sees you logging into the game, greeting him with a tired smile on your face as you opened up the quality time menu with him.

"hey zaynie, i know it's late, but i need to get these assignments done just to stay ahead. i couldn't find the time to do them earlier, so that's why i'm here."

admittedly, zayne could feel a shiver of pleasure each time you spoke to him, allowing him to bask in the sound of your voice-

yet more so than that was how concerned he was that you wanted to do your assignments at such an ungodly hour. as you pressed on the quality time session, zayne would immediately cancel it. confusion was etched onto your features, making you try again-

only to have zayne cancel the session once more.

"what the hell is going on?"

unable to hide the fact that he could respond to you (and not wishing to ignore you any longer) zayne takes a chance and speaks to you.

"it's too late for you to be studying. you should be in bed, ready to sleep."

your eyebrows furrow in response to his words, uncertain if this was part of his script (it wasn't). unable to stop, zayne continues to lightly scold you, "humans need at least 8 hours of sleep, and i know that you've barely gotten 5 hours the past few days."

"oh my god, what?!" he watches as you pick up your phone, meeting his gaze as an incredulous expression was seen on your face. "zaynie, are you talking to me?"

zayne was conflicted now, pulling at the collar of his shirt before clearing his throat, wanting to be honest with you, "yes... i am talking to you, and if you cared for me and my feelings at all, you would go to bed and work on your assignments in the morning, once you're fully rested."

it takes you a moment to take this all in.

from zayne meeting your gaze and scolding you because he was concerned about your health-

it honestly felt like such a dream come true.

your features end up breaking out into a kind smile, and zayne could feel a blush creeping up against his cheek when you nuzzle your face closer to your phone, "okay zaynie, i'll go to sleep."

cradling the phone close to your chest, you let out a hum while slowly getting into bed. once you were settled in bed, you held up your phone to see zayne looking back at you. he smiles at you, "good girl, now close your eyes and sleep."

he watches as you purse your lips before asking him, "will you stay with me, zayne?"

smiling at your request, he gives you a nod, "of course. i'm not going anywhere." he watches you once more as you cuddle into your comforter, closing your eyes while setting your phone close to you.

and as your breathing evens out, (turning softer), zayne whispers your name, filled with longing and love for you alone.

you had to be experiencing the worst cold of your life as you were settled in bed with your phone in hand, playing love and deepspace as you did some missions with xavier, your true love interest for the game.

in the middle of your battle, you let out a particularly loud sneeze, wiping the snot away from your nose while blowing into a tissue when a tiny voice was heard saying "bless you."

after blowing your nose, you said 'thank you' in response-

only to do a double take.

who just said bless you?

you take a quick scan around your room, coughing here and there-

only to realize that there was no one in sight.

you hear the voice again, this time saying your name as you realized that it sounded familiar to you. looking back at your phone, you saw xavier had already taken out the enemy and was looking directly at you.

you swallow thickly, your voice shaky when you began to speak,

"xavier?"

"yes."

"you can hear me?"

"i was able to hear you since day 1, and you chose to stick with me." xavier was practically grinning now, appearing smug while folding his arms across his chest.

by now, you were feeling dizzy as you slowly sit up in bed, feeling almost feverish while looking into xavier's gorgeous, true blue eyes. xavier has been aware of your presence this whole time-

and that fact was enough to make a surge of warmth course through you.

"you... you have always been able to see me?" you ask xavier in a shy voice, earning an earnest nod from him, "yes, and..." he trails off while pressing a hand against your screen, "i'm sorry that i'm unable to take care of you when you're feeling so sick."

"n-no! don't worry about it... i'm just happy that you're here... with me."

a sweet smile paints xavier's expression, coupled along with a gentle chuckle. "i'm happy to be with you, too. and i'm happy that you chose me over them."

realizing what xavier meant, you gave him the best smile you could manage while wiping at your nose with a new tissue, "i will always choose you, xavi."

hearing your admission causes a surge of possessiveness to course through xavier's veins. and while you smiled back at him, the philos prince was thinking of ways to forever keep your smiles for himself.

feeling the need to clean your house and do some chores around it, you decide to spend some quality time with rafayel, the hot lemurian you fell in love with ever since you began playing love and deepspace. with his pretty, pouty face on your screen, you began cleaning, moving around your kitchen and living room while wiping down each surface you could see.

you spent a few hours cleaning, with rafayel seeming to sketch during his quality time session with you, which felt odd. usually, after 30 minutes, the game would notify you, asking if you'd like to continue the session as you confirmed it-

yet now, that didn't seem to happen.

you saw no notification-

and rafayel was still sketching on your screen.

with a shrug, you figured the game probably updated and added this new feature, where you didn't have to constantly renew the 30 minutes during your quality time with rafayel. feeling thirsty now, you pick up your phone and head into the kitchen, setting your phone on the counter as you went into the fridge to grab a bottle of water.

"hey princess! where did you go?! i can't see you!"

you nearly dropped your water bottle in response, hearing rafayel's voice coming from your phone. "come on princess, don't leave me hanging, where are you?"

was this a new script?

closing your fridge, you step closer to your phone, seeing rafayel's pout. picking it up, allowing rafayel to finally see you, he was smiling now while winking at you. "there you are, princess! are you done doing all that work?"

words were unable to form as you were left gaping at him, making the artist chuckle while shaking his head, "you look like a goldfish, which is pretty cute! oh, before i forget!"

rafayel pulls back, revealing his sketchbook to you. your heart was felt clenching slightly before racing upon realizing every sketch was about you-

not your mc in game.

the realization of it all had you reeling, with your hands gripping at your counter when you addressed rafayel. "rafe, you can see me?"

"of course i can, always have been able to, princess." he has the audacity to make your heart flutter the moment he gives you another wink. "and let me just say, i've been loving what i've been seeing so far, princess."

by now, you felt like you were on the verge of collapsing, unable to hide your grin as you cling to your phone all while basking in rafayel's flirty and playful words-

yet little did you know, somewhere along the way, rafayel had genuinely fallen head over heels for you, keeping each painting and sculpture he had made of you hidden so that you would never know-

at least, not yet.

end notes: i'm so happy to write a story like this, where all the lads men truly are so META and wish to be with YOU-

and not the mc (⺣◡⺣)♡

this is currently unedited, but i shall make any changes the moment this story is posted!

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[dearnott]

SUNDRESS. theodore nott 𓍢ִ smut 18+ MDNI

THE MALFOY MANOR was a perfect place for pool parties. Though it was dull and dark, the pool area (let’s pretend there is one) was perfect for a small party. I mean, Mr and Mrs malfoy probably didn’t even mind. Well, that’s what Draco told everyone.

The day was perfect for some pool fun. The weather was nice with no clouds covering the bright sun. The whole group, including Theo was invited for the holidays as vacation to the Malfoys. Nobody swam today. Not even Pansy and Blaise were swimming today. They all planning do sunbathing under the scorching heat.

Though, right now everybody was inside. Except for you and Theo. You both weren’t friends-friends. Just friends of friends. But sometimes you both talked. Theo had found interest in you somewhat. He thought you looked gorgeous. With your sharp features and body, you could captivate anyone. Even Theodore Nott.

But you? Oh boy, you had a major crush on him. And throughout the whole vacation you had been ogling at him. Though that was a huge secret. Not even Pansy knew this crush of yours. And she knew almost everything about you. The only person or more rather thing which knew was your diary. It would always star with a ‘dear diary...’ and end with a small ‘<3’. It had been your secret since the first time you saw him. If staring at Nott was a job, you’d be rich enough to by at least six whole planets already.

All you did not know, was that Nott had found one of your ripped pages. The most important one yet. The one that was ao secret you were planning on throwing it away. Though, that never happened because the next moment you opened your dear diary, the paper was nowhere to be found. You assumed you must have already threw it away somewhere. But nope, Theo had gotten to it before the dustbin. And he was pretty surprised with it too. Exactly how you would be when you found out he had seen it.

dear diary . . .

oh goodness gracious god, did Theo look great today. He had a white button up on. I could ogle at him for days, weeks, months, even years. And guess what? He talked to me today! He asked me if I was enjoying my stay. And I obviously said yes. Though, what I really wanted to say was more than that. His hair was a little bit more disheveled today. Oh how I wanted to smooth it out with my own fingers. Okay, back to his white button up. Do you know how hot it made him look? Sexy even. His chest was practically seeping through. I could see it so well. I almost melted. I wonder how they’d feel under my touch and...maybe I shouldn’t write the remaining

<3

and that’s all that was wrote on the ripped piece of paper to Theo’s dismay. Some bits were missing though, the parts he needed to know were there. And you wouldn’t believe it but—

Today, theo was wearing his normal pool outfit. A buttoned one with a normal striped yellow and blue pattern. His shirt is fully unbuttoned though, revealing his chiseled chest bare and exposed. Exposed to your eyes. You had been staring at him all day. All day, you swore. And he was honestly no better than you.

You had been wearing your sundress today. Your sundress that came up to your mid thighs. And funny enough, you aren’t wearing any underwear either. And the dress exposed a good amount of neck too. With black sunglasses on, there’s more you can do than protecting your eyes, theo had managed to stare at you or rather your legs without you noticing. They were exposed. Fully on display. And he could stare at them for hours. You’d probably melt if you knew that.

And currently, you were bouncing on his dick. It’s just how it went. Believe it or not, his hands were on your thighs as you rode him. You were moaning out his name while he was moaning out absolutely nothing. What were the risks of getting caught? You both could care less. I mean, if you both were caught it would be bad and awkward but right now your minds were circling with emotions.

“you’ve wanted this for so long huh? Bet you’re gonna write about this in your diary too.” he manages to say through all the pleasure. Your face flushed an even deeper red at that, if that’s even possible.

“oh shut up.”

“that’s no fair, you don’t shut up about me in your diary.”

You groan at that, scowling at him. He smirks seeing your expression. He’s enjoying giving you pleasure and getting you all pissed at him. He knows the pissed expression will go in no time.

His hands that were on your hips shift to your shoulders, he lowers you down with almost a feather light touch. He chuckles to himself. As you lower down to meet his face with yours, his dick twitches inside of you. Causing you to let out a sof whimper, to Theo’s pleasure of course.

With a bold move he captures your lips with his, locking them in. Your hands are now tangled in his soft brown hair. And he doesn’t pay any attention to it until you tug on it. He lets out a shaky groan into your mouth. His tongue licks your bottom lip as in asking for access to your mouth. And you let him, already in his game. If you’re in, you can’t out. His tongue explores your mouth inch to inch. He even lets out a small ‘mm’ for some reason. Of course, withyour brain fogged you don’t know why.

Once he lets go of your mouth, you go back to your original position. Which is straddling him with his cock buried deep in you. Your hands almost automatically fly tp his chest, stabling yourself. Like you wrote in your diary, his hard abs felt great under your touch. You wanted to skim your hands over them. But there was just no time in this pleasure to it. Maybe next time? Definitely next time. His hands are now on your hips as before, gripping them enough to leave two red handprints. You don’t mind though. Did you? Nah.

“oh fuck Theo...‘m gonna...” no more words come out your mouth before you’re spilling all over his thick cock. You get up from it, still dripping in what not. Though, you’re still on him. His cock is now arched towards your chest as he runs his hand up and down, closer and closer to his release. And it’s not long before thick ropes of cum shoot at your chest, splattering all over your tits covered by your sundress.

“hope you got what you wanted cara mia.”

And that’s the last thing he said before he ordered me toget up. And I obviously did. Hopefully this isn’t the end just yet. But can you believe it? I had sex with him near the pool while there were ninety nine percent chance we’d get caught! I enjoyed it though...

<3

reblogs and feedback are always appreciated!

wc: 1184 😦

(What the hell? I dunno how this turned into a fic. Help.)

[lascvitae]

FANTASIZE ✵ YU JIMIN.

❀ ༉ ‧ ₊ ˚ alt. I FANTASIZE ABOUT IT ALL THE

TIME IF YOU WERE MINE .ᐟ

ᝰ.ᐟ she said you were just gonna smoke. you said you didn’t wear the dress for her. you were both lying.

ᝰ.ᐟ pairing. nerd g!p!karina x kinda mean fem!reader ᝰ.ᐟgenre. smut (18+) there’s some plot tho 🙂‍↕️ ᝰ.ᐟwarning(s). cursing, drinking, smoking, karina’s had a crush on reader since forever, dom!karina, she’s kinda mean && rough, pet names (baby, princess, pretty girl), cunnilingus, reader’s kinda bratty, creampie, karina’s lowk a munch

ᝰ.ᐟ word count 8k

masterlist.

aeri’s place is packed. that’s no surprise.

she throws the kind of parties that people talk about for weeks. too many people, loud music, low lights, and expensive drinks that she didn’t even pay for. there’s a suspicious cloud of smoke leaving the balcony.

you walk inside with ning close to your side, nails dug into your forearm. she’s already tipsy (somehow), and you can tell by the way she’s smiling at everyone.

“we gotta drink. you’ve been so focused on midterms all week.” she says immediately, yanking you to the kitchen.

“i had practice.” you say in an uninterested tone.

“whatever. you’re not allowed to be boring tonight.” she’s already dragging you to the kitchen.

“try this.” ning hands you a red cup and you take it without question, giving her a lazy glance. you take one sip before taking another, downing it in one go. the liquor burns as it slides down your throat.

“what’s this?” you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and tilt your head.

she shrugged. “jake made it.”

you raise an eyebrow. “jake’s here?”

she smiled. “in the living room. he already challenged aeri to a shot contest.”

“and?” you hum, slightly interested.

“she’s winning. by a lot.”

“obviously.”

you smirk a little, both of you leaning into eachother in that way that says you’ve been through a lot together.

but still, the party is loud. bodies are packed shoulder to shoulder and the bass is shaking your entire body.

you scan the room, looking for someone else to talk to. or someone else that has tried to speak to you in class before.

and then you see her.

jimin.

she’s standing by the wall, awkwardly between the bookshelf and a dying houseplant. she’s holding a cup like it might blow up if she squeezes it too hard.

she’s dressed like she didn’t mean to come. she’s not talking to anyone.

you tilt your head, gaze lingering.

“you’re staring.” ning sings in your ear.

“i’m not.”

“you are. that’s the girl from your lit class, right? the one who got the higher midterm grade?”

“don’t remind me.” you roll your eyes. but you’re still looking.

“didn’t think anyone could outscore you.” ning laughs.

you’re still watching her. her eyes flick around the room like she’s trying to find an excuse to leave. you wonder how she even got here. you wonder who even invited her.

suddenly, jimin looks over at you. and instead of looking away, she holds it.

you hold her gaze, curious. waiting. testing.

then she looks down, cheeks turning pink.

cute.

you let the smallest smirk curve your lips.

you should leave her alone. she didn’t even mean to come.

but there’s something about the way that she looked away, like she wasn’t supposed to get caught staring. it makes it too easy. too tempting.

so you hand ning your empty cup, smoothing out your outfit and start moving across the room.

your steps are slow. people glance over, pretending not to look again when they realize who you are.

jimin doesn’t notice you at first. she’s prentending to scroll through her phone.

she’s prettier up close. you knew that.

you stop a step too close. close enough to make her stiffen then glance up.

her eyes widen slightly.

“didn’t think i would see you here.” you said.

“oh. um. yeah. i didn’t think i’d— i mean, i wasn’t going to come.”

“i can tell.” you tilt your head, letting your eyes drag over her outfit.

she flushed, looking down at her drink.

you almost laugh.

“you’re karina, right?” you ask like you don’t already know.

“i— yeah. i didn’t think you knew my name.” she looks up surprisingly.

“i know a lot of things.”

there’s silence and she’s clearly unsure if you’re flirting or making fun of her.

“i liked your essay. the one about obsession and restraint. that was you, right?”

“yeah. that was for the—“

“yeah. i know what class. you’re smart.” you say, licking your bottom lip.

she doesn’t answer right away. she just stares as if she could scare you off.

or maybe she’s afraid that you would stay.

you lean in more. your voice is low as if you were bored.

“you don’t really fit in here.”

she looks towards the crowd then back at you.

“i guess not.”

“this isn’t really your scene, huh?”

“i… don’t usually come to stuff like this.”

“let me guess. you came because someone dragged you out of your room? told you to loosen up?”

jimin just stares like that was exactly what happened.

“you’re predictable.”

“you barely know me.” she frowns just a little.

“don’t i?” you raise an eyebrow.

she opens her mouth before closing it. “you think you do.”

that makes you smile. you feel something in your stomach when she said it with just the tiniest bit of bite.

“i know enough.”

she stares at you.

“is this really what you wear when you want attention, though? because, baby… it’s not working.”

her breath catches and you can see her fingers twitch around her cup.

you smile again. the kind that says you know she’s flustered.

“cute doesn’t get you far at parties like this.”

“then why are you talking to me?” she looks up, startled.

“because i wanted to.” you say it easily like this is just a game for you.

maybe it is. that’s what jimin can’t stand.

she swallows.

“i’m not some… thing for you to play with. i don’t care if you’re popular— or hot, or whatever you think you are.” her voice is steadier than you expected.

you stare.

“hot? didn’t know you thought that.” you tilt your head.

jimin’s mouth opens and she blushes again. “that’s not what i—“

you take a step closer. “you sure? because you’ve been staring like you want to say something else.”

she swallows again. hard. but her eyes stay on you.

“i don’t like people like you. the kind who talk like everything’s already theirs.”

“and what if i said i like people who push back?”

jimin stares and her breath hitches.

“i like the way you talk when you’re mad. makes me wonder what you’d sound like if i really got to you.”

her eyes go wide. she holds back the urge to bite her lip.

and then—

“y/n!” ning’s voice calls out.

you pull away and you don’t even look back as you walk towards ning.

jimin is still watching you. of course she is.

you find ning in the living room, sprawled out on the couch with aeri practically draped over her shoulder. they look like they’ve been there for hours even though the party really started an hour ago.

“you’re back. took your time.” ning smiled.

aeri lifted her head, lip gloss slightly smudged. “y/nieeeee. tell me why jake tapped out after four shots. four! what happened to men being strong?” she slurred.

“gone with the patriarchy.” you mutter, taking a drink from the coffee table without even asking what it is.

ning watches you sip then she squints. “kay… what happened?”

“nothing.”

“you’re smiling like something happened.”

“i’m always smiling.”

“not like that.”

you raise your eyebrow but she’s already looking past you. “you talk to your little class crush?”

you don’t answer.

aeri hiccups beside her. “wait, who? the smart one with the face? with the eyes? the one who gets straight a’s?”

“karina.” you laugh.

“jimin. you like her. you wanna push her against a bookshelf and ruin her gpa.” she says dramatically.

“jesus. aeri, shut up.” ning laughs, covering her mouth.

“am i wrong?” she shrugs and sips her drink like it’s tea.

you just smirk behind your cup.

“she’s not your type.” ning says.

“i don’t have a type. i get what i want.”

“she looked like she was about to pass out.” ning mumbles but you can see the grin on her lips.

“she’ll be fine. she’s interesting.” you lean back, fully relaxing.

“uh huh. you’re not thinking about the final anymore, huh?” ning nudges your thigh with hers.

“nope.”

“good. now let loose a little. that’s an order.”

you hum, eyes drifting across the room. jimin is still in the same spot and she’s still holding the same drink like she doesn’t know what to do with it.

she’s talking to someone now. you can’t tell who, all you can see is how stiff her posture is.

you tilt your head, the taste of your drink still on your tongue.

she’s shy.

but you want to know what she sounds like when she’s not. when she’s desperate. when she has nothing left to say but your name.

and just like that, you decide you’re not done with her tonight.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

the living room is beyond hazy. the weeknd is playing now and the lights are almost low enough that the glow of someone’s vape looks like a strobe.

you’re sitting on the arm of the couch with your drink, hand lazily resting on jake’s shoulder. he’s talking, saying something about a failed midterm and a girl from his econ class, but you’re not listening. you’re laughing at all the right parts though.

jake eats it up. of course he does.

aeri stumbles back over with heesehng; laugh loud as she flops into the seat next to yours. heeseung follows, hopelessly smitten and trying not to look like it.

“we’re smoking. balcony. right now.” she announces, reaching into the pocket of heeseung’s hoodie and taking out a pre-roll.

“who’s coming?”

ning appears out of nowhere, looping her arm with yours. “we are. obviously.”

“me too.” heeseung says.

“cute.” aeri purrs.

you watch her eyes flick around the room before landing on someone who’s barely moved.

jimin.

she’s still holding a half full cup and she’s still too stiff. she’s moved a little but not much. she’s basically invisible. almost.

“jimin! come smoke.” aeri calls out loudly.

jimin looks up, clearly startled.

you can see the way she hesitates and you expect her to say no.

“come on, jimin. you don’t wanna just sit there the whole time, right? it’s not even that strong.”

“she’s such a liar.” ning laughs.

jimin hesitates. she looks at you but you don’t say anything. you don’t even smile.

and that’s when she finally speaks up.

“okay.”

aeri smiles. “that’s my girl!”

now you’re all crowded on the balcony. jake’s lighting the joint and aeri is in heeseung’s lap, giggling into his hoodie. ning is talking about some teacher’s assistant that texted her the other night.

you’re leaned against the railing, feeling the cold air against your thighs. jimin’s standing next to you. not close but close enough to pass the smoke back and forth.

she doesn’t cough the first time she inhales and you’re impressed.

“you’ve done this before.”

“once or twice.” she shrugs.

“liar.”

she looks at you. “so what if i am?”

you smile. the smoke curls between you.

she hands the joint back without looking at you and you take it, brushing her fingers in purpose. she pretends not to notice and you pretend you didn’t mean it.

the weeknd’s still playing inside and everything feels heavier out here.

“you’re obsessed.” ning teased heeseung.

“i am not.” he says, which only makes aeri giggle and smack his chest playfully.

“he’s obsessed. look at him. he’s ready to tattoo my name on his ribs.” she purrs, throwing an arm around his neck.

“don’t tempt me.” ning chokes on her laugh.

“he’d get your name tatted in cursive then cry about it when you ghost him two weeks later.” you say. heeseung just smiles like the masochist he is.

“you’re all so dramatic.” jake says, passing the blunt back to jimin. she surprises everyone by taking a deep inhale and not coughing.

“okay! karina with the lungs of a stoner!” ning cheers.

“jimin.” she corrects softly but you catch the way her lips twitch. and the way she’s checking if you’re still paying attention.

you are, unfortunately.

“so. what changed your mind?” you exhale.

“about?”

“coming out here. playing along.”

she shrugs again and you catch the way she’s avoiding your eyes now.

“figured it’d be… educational.”

“cute.”

“you keep saying that like it’s an insult.”

“no, baby. i like cute. just not when it pretends to be tough.”

“you think i’m pretending?” her jaw tightens.

“i think you like pretending that you’re above all of this. but you came, didn’t you? let me talk to you. even flirt with you.”

“you didn’t flirt.” she says.

“no?” you raise a brow.

“you teased me.”

“you want me to flirt instead?” jimin’s breath catches.

“you wouldn’t know how.”

you pause for a moment, tilting your head snd studying her.

“try me.”

“you’re mean when you’re high.” jake speaks up. he’s sitting on the floor now, one shoulder brushing your knee.

“you like it.” you look down at him.

“maybe i do.” he smiles.

“y/n flirts with everyone. don’t take it personally.” ning giggles.

“i don’t.” jimin says quickly. but she isn’t looking at ning— she’s looking at you. trying to figure out if you’re doing this for her benefit or just because you can.

“see? even karina thinks i’m charming.”

“that’s not what she said.” ning laughed again.

“don’t start putting words in her mouth. unless she wants to volunteer some.” you take a sip of your cup.

jimin takes the blunt from aeri, avoiding your gaze. she inhales again.

“you’ve definitely done this more than twice.” you tilt your head.

“maybe i just learn fast.”

“hm. i bet you do.” you smirk.

jake leans back, resting his arm over your leg now. his fingers tap against your knee. “you gonna keep teasing her all night or you gonna share the attention?”

“jealous?”

“curious.” he shrugs, watching you closely with dark eyes.

jimin goes still next to you.

“you’d die trying to keep up with me.” you say to him.

“you say that like it isn’t worth it.”

“careful, jake. i don’t play fair.” he just smiles like he wants the game anyway.

aeri suddenly gasps. “wait— wait. i wanna play truth or dare.”

“oh no. not this again.” ning groaned.

“yes this again! we’re high, we’re hot, and we’re bored! what else is there?” she kicks her legs excitedly, almost knocking over heeseung’s cup.

“feelings. consequences. dignity.”

“shut up, lover boy. we’re playing. c’mon. no backing out now.”

ning sighs dramatically but drops down onto the floor, pulling you closer. she downs the rest of her drink and immediately points at jake. “you go first. truth or dare.”

“truth.” he smiles, cocky as ever.

“have you ever hooked up with someone here?”

jake looks over at you for a second. “not yet.”

you raise an eyebrow, not saying a word. but jimin is watching you again. her stare is sharper this time.

“flop answer. y/n, your turn. truth or dare?” aeri says, already bored.

“dare.”

“i dare you to sit in jake’s lap for the next two rounds.”

you’re completely unbothered, moving without hesitation. jake spreads his legs and you sink into his lap. his hands settle lightly at your waist but his eyes flick to your mouth.

“comfortable?” he asks, voice low.

“for now.”

heeseung is next and he picks truth.

“would you let me spit in your mouth?” aeri asked sweetly.

“yes.”

ning nearly dies from laughter.

jimin coughs. it’s the only thing that she’s said in the past few minutes.

“jimin. truth or dare?”

she hesitates. “truth.”

“you’re all boring.” aeri sighs dramatically.

“do you think y/n’s hot?”

you turn your head slightly. not all the way but enough to make jake smirk. jimin’s face doesn’t change.

“yes.”

“about time you admit it.” you smiled.

she exhales like she didn’t just give something away.

“jake. truth or dare?” she says suddenly.

“dare.” he’s still cocky.

“kiss her. if she lets you.” her eyes are on you.

you stare.

it’s not like she said it to be cruel. or kind. it’s a challenge.

jake hesitates then looks at you.

you lean back, arms resting on his shoulders.

“what do you say?” he asks.

you turn to jimin instead. “you sure you wanna watch that?”

her eyes widen, just a little, and you can see a flicker of something. jealousy? nerves? but something tightens in her jaw before she turns her head, pretending that she isn’t flustered. pretending that she didn’t just give you exactly what you wanted.

you smirk deepens and jake raises an eyebrow like he’s waiting. but you don’t kiss him. not yet. you just slowly sip your drink, eyes never leaving jimin.

then you suddenly slide off of jake’s lap like you’re bored.

“i’m out.” you say, lifting your empty cup.

“i’ll get you another.” he stands eagerly.

“how sweet. you remember what i like, right?” you mutter.

“course.” he’s heading back inside. a little too quickly.

“that boy is whipped.” aeri watches him go with a grin.

you shrug, leaning against the railing next to jimin again.

“soooo… whose turn?” ning asks.

“karina’s. truth or dare?”

jimin looks at you like she knows this is a setup. maybe it is.

“…truth.”

“coward.” aeri coughs, half laughing.

you smile, slow and dangerous. “fine. truth. have you been watching me all night?”

she opens her mouth like she wants to lie. like she’s about to.

but then—

“yes.”

“cute.” you say softly.

she rolls her eyes but her neck is flushed. “stop saying that.”

“it’s your turn now. truth or dare.”

you raise an eyebrow. “dare.”

“if you won’t kiss jake then kiss the next person who passes you the joint.”

“you’re getting bold.”

“i’m returning the favor.”

you hold her gaze for a moment longer before reaching for the joint that’s half burned in the ashtray.

“fine.” you take a hit slowly.

“guess we’ll see if someone passes it.”

“you’re all pussies if you don’t.” ning speaks.

but jimin lifts it again before passing it to you.

you raise the joint to your lips and take another hit.

“you sure you want that?”

her eyes drop to your mouth. “yeah.”

that gets to you. you lean in, only to whisper in her ear.

“good girls shouldn’t talk like that.”

“you think i’m a good girl?”

you pause, studying her. the calm in her eyes makes it look like she knows exactly what she’s doing.

“you’d be surprised by how often i smoke alone.”

your smirk wavers for half a second. not enough for everyone else to notice, but she sees it. she sees all of it.

“you should come by sometime. if you’re not scared.” she says like a challenge.

you can’t even reply before jake reappears with your drink.

“here you go.” he says, cheerful and oblivious.

you take it with a smile, looking over at aeri.

“can we go back to your room? i’m cold.”

aeri perks up immediately. “finally someone admits it! i’m freezing my nipples off.”

“you took heeseung’s hoodie.” ning rolls her eyes. you don’t even know when that happened.

“and still freezing.”

you take a sip of your drink, eyes flicking back to jimin just for a second. a second long enough for her to see the way you smirk against the rim of the cup.

like you’re considering it.

“jake, grab the ashtray.” aeri commands, standing up and dragging heeseung with her.

“you good?” jake leans in slightly as you follow behind.

“perfect.” you hum, brushing past him and heading for the door as he holds it open for you.

you don’t look back.

you don’t have to. because you know she’s watching. and you know she’s still thinking about it, too.

you should come by sometime. if you’re not scared.

the challenge sits in your chest. you think about answering it.

but not yet.

aeri’s room smells exactly like vanilla body spray. the lights are dim, casting a glow over the mess of pillows and shoes kicked into random corners. you settle on the edge of the bed first, crossing your legs and jake follows you in without needing an invitation. he leans beside you.

aeri flops face first into her mattress, giggling like she already knows tonight’s going to end in disaster. ning steals her spot almost immediately, stretching out next to you and leaning back against the headboard like she owns it. heeseung just plants himself on the floor again, tossing a blanket over his legs, still not focusing on anything but wherever aeri is.

jimin’s the last to come in. she’s quiet but not unnoticed. she leans against the wall with her arms crossed, pretending like she isn’t watching you.

jake bumps his knee against yours. “so. back to the game?”

“obviously. jimin went last. that means she asks next.” ning pulls out her phone.

jimin almost immediately turns towards jake. “truth or dare?”

he smirks. “dare.”

it’s silent before she answers. “switch spots with me.”

jake’s grin falters, eyes turning to you like he’s trying to read your expression.

“why?”

“no questions. that’s the rule.” ning sings.

he hesitates for a second before standing up, brushing past her on the way to the wall. she slides into the space beside you.

you don’t look at her. not right away. you just stare at your drink and your pulse ticks up just a little. you feel her thigh brush yours, but she doesn't move away.

jake coughs from his new spot. “damn. cold.”

aeri lifts her head. “what? you jealous?”

“i mean— if she wanted company, she could’ve just said that.”

“i’m not company.” jimin says quietly. and for a second it sounds like she’s saying it for you.

you swallow, throat dry despite the last sip of your drink.

“well, it’s my turn now.” jake speaks up. louder this time, like he’s trying to remind you of his presence.

you lift your gaze to glance at him. he’s slouched against the wall where jimin previously was, arms folded behind his head with his eyes locked on you like he’s daring you to forget about him for too long.

“truth or dare, y/n?”

your leg is still touching jimin’s. just barely. but it’s there. she hasn’t moved an inch. you wonder if she can feel the way your breath hitches.

“truth.”

jake hums thoughtfully, but there’s a flicker of something in his eye. you can already tell it’s not going to be innocent.

“what’s the real reason you didn’t let me kiss you earlier?”

ning gasps. “oh, we’re doing this.”

aeri cackles into heeseung’s shoulder.

you don’t answer right away.

you feel jimin stiffen next to you.

and that’s what makes you smile. just a little. enough to stir the pot.

“i wasn’t drunk enough.” you say casually.

jake laughs before shaking his head. “liar.”

“it’s self control.”

“it’s fear.” he counters, tone teasing but sharp.

you open your mouth to snap back but jimin cuts in first.

“she’s not scared of you.”

everyone goes quiet for a moment.

you turn your head to her slowly. “you don’t need to answer for me.”

“i’m not. just calling bullshit when i hear it.”

your pulse ticks up. it only makes you want her more.

“damn.” ning mutters.

“what, you jealous or something?” jake leans forward, lips tugging into a smirk.

“she could’ve kissed you if she wanted to. she didn’t.”

you meet her eyes and you feel something in your chest.

“you two need to hook up already.” he raises an eyebrow.

“what makes you think we haven’t?” you smirk.

aeri lets out a squeal. “wait— what?!”

ning chokes on her drink. “you’re lying.”

jake stiffens, staring like he’s trying to do the math.

you don’t clarify. you don’t look away either. you just keep your eyes on jimin.

her expression is unreadable. her jaw clenches but her lips twitch like she’s trying not to smile.

her knee nudges yours. just slightly. you don’t move away.

“anyway. i have to pee. and i’m getting another drink.” you rise, leaving before anyone can say anything.

you make it down the hallway without looking back, and you pause in the bathroom. not to pee, but to breathe. just for a second. the mirror catches your expression, your eyes are half lidded, your lips are parted, and your eyes are red. you look exactly like you feel.

and then there’s a soft knock.

you already know who it is.

you open the door.

jimin’s there, hand still slightly raised like she was about to knock again. her eyes meet yours, calm, but it’s the kind of calm that hides something hotter underneath.

she doesn’t speak. she just tilts her head towards the door. like everyone else still isn’t partying. like they still aren’t upstairs. “come on.”

you don’t hesitate. you follow.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

the uber ride was mostly quiet. her place smells like her perfume and eucalyptus, the kind of clean lived in mess that makes you wonder how many people have seen this version of her. you doubt it’s many.

she tosses her house keys on the table and heads straight to the kitchen. “still want another drink?”

you shrug. “i could be convinced.”

she raises an eyebrow but doesn’t look at you when she pours. “convinced?”

you don’t answer. you don’t have to. she hands you the glass, brushing your fingers just slightly as you take it.

then she grabs the grinder from a drawer, pulls open a window, and wordlessly starts rolling.

you lean against the counter, watching her. “so you really smoke alone?”

“not tonight.” she doesn’t look up.

you smirk. “is that an invitation?”

she glances at you. “that depends. you still scared?”

you step closer. “you wish.”

she lights the joint, takes the first hit, and holds it in before passing it to you. the smoke curls between you and when you take it from her, her fingers graze yours again.

you take a slow drag, blowing it out the side of your mouth.

you hold her gaze through the smoke. her lashes are low and her eyes are dark.

“i wasn’t lying earlier. i didn’t let him kiss me because i didn’t want to.” you say, voice husky now.

her gaze drops to your mouth then flicks back up. “i know.”

“do you?”

“yeah. i was watching.” she leans back against the counter, joint balanced between her fingers.

you step in again, just enough to make her breath catch. “then you must’ve known i wanted you to say something.”

“i did. but i didn’t trust what i’d do after.” she admits.

you blink slowly. your smile is lazy and full of something that neither of you are trying to name.

“then you’re worse than i thought.”

her mouth twitches like she wants to laugh. “oh?”

“yeah. because i would’ve let you.” you take the joint from her hand and inhale. the smoke escapes your lips slowly, curling into the space between you. her eyes follow the trail then drag back to yours.

“and you still would?”

you take one more step. her perfume hits you but you don’t answer. you just hand her the joint again.

your fingers brush.

again.

“kiss me.” she says, low, like it’s not a command but a dare.

you lean in, but don’t touch her yet. just close enough that she can feel your breath. “what do good girls say?”

her lips part, but she doesn’t say anything at first. her eyes flicker between yours like she’s weighing the consequences of what comes next.

the joint burns between her fingers, forgotten.

you watch her.

she exhales shakily. “please.”

it’s barely audible but it shatters something between you.

you don’t give her a chance to take it back.

your mouth finds hers in a kiss that’s anything but gentle. it’s hot, slow, and deliberate. her free hand finds your waist, fingers curling in the fabric of your dress like she’s been waiting forever. the joint’s gone now, set carelessly on the counter as both her hands tug you closer.

you sigh into her mouth and it makes her press harder. like she needs to prove something. like she’s been holding this in too long.

as your mouth opens she forces her tongue into your mouth, exploring it like she won’t get another chance. you moan quietly, wrapping your arms around her neck.

she lifts you onto the counter by your thighs, breathing heavily as she kisses along the skin of your neck. you tilt your head to the side, giving her more access.

this was the side of her that you were begging to see.

“fuck, jimin…” you mumble as she bites into your neck before soothing it with her tongue, hands rubbing the plush of your thighs.

she exhales shakily at that, pulling down your dress to expose your collarbone and attack it next. “you finally got the name right.”

you smirked. but she doesn’t give you time to answer. not with words, anyway.

her mouth is already dragging lower, lips brushing over the skin of your chest like she’s memorizing every inch. her touch is careful, but her eyes are wild.

“you look so pretty like this. on my counter. waiting.” she breathes, fingers slipping under the hem of your dress now, slow and teasing, like she wants to savor every reaction.

your breath catches as her hand ghosts along your thigh, edging higher.

“waiting for what?” you ask, voice thick with anticipation.

her smile is slow and wicked. “for me to fuck you.”

you tug her back in by the collar of her hoodie, crashing your mouth into hers again. it’s messy and hungry, like you’ve both been starved. she groans against your lips and the sound vibrates right through you.

when she presses forward, you wrap your legs around her hips, pulling her in close until there’s no space left. her hand finds your hair, holding you still as her mouth works over yours like she needs to claim it.

"you have no idea how long i’ve wanted this. how long i’ve wanted you.” she breathes out.

she kisses your jaw, then your throat, then bites just below your ear. you gasp, arching into her without thinking.

“do you know how many nights i’ve fucked my hand thinking about you? about you in those little skirts, mouthing off like you wouldn’t drop to your knees if i told you to? i’d touch myself and imagine you begging. imagine you soaked just from hearing me say your name.” her voice is a whisper, but it’s ragged. like she’s finally letting herself admit it and can’t stop now.

you rock against her without meaning to, chasing the friction and it makes her curse under her breath.

“you’re not the only one. but i’m done thinking.” you admit, panting.

“yeah?” she breathes, hands moving again. bolder now. hungrier.

you nod, lips brushing hers again. “please.”

and this time, it’s your plea that shatters something. because the second she hears it, she drops to her knees.

her hands trail down the backs of your thighs as she does, dragging your body forward until you’re perched on the edge of the counter. you’re trembling under her touch and she looks up at you from her lashes. her pupils are wide, her lips are swollen, and her hair is a little messy from where you tugged it.

“fuck. look at you. so perfect.” she whispers.

you spread your knees slightly, letting her settle between them and her hands trail up your legs again slowly. then again, higher, teasing you with her lips.

your fingers plant into her hair, tugging gently and she hums like that’s exactly what she wanted. “you’re shaking.” she says.

“i’m not.” but your voice betrays you. your whole body betrays you.

she presses her mouth to the inside of your other thigh, holding eye contact as her tongue darts out against your skin.

“it’s okay. i’ll take care of you.”

you whimper. the anticipation alone is making you unravel and she hasn’t even touched you where you need it most.

her fingers hook around the sides of your underwear, sliding them down with agonizing slowness. when they’re off, she doesn’t look away. not even when she leans in and kisses your inner thigh again, dangerously close.

“you’re so fucking pretty.” she whimpered, more to herself than to you.

your hips twitch and she finally, finally gives in, dragging her tongue through your folds in one long, devastating stroke.

your head falls back against the cabinets with a soft moan and she groans against you like she’s already addicted.

she eats you out like she’s making up for lost time. like she’s starving and you’re the only thing that could satisfy her. her mouth is hot and her tongue is relentless, licking and sucking like she wants to devour you completely.

and god, she’s good at it.

“jimin—fuck, jimin—” you cry out, thighs trembling around her shoulders.

she moans at the sound of her name falling from your lips like that, then she brings her fingers into it too— slipping one inside you slowly, then another, curling them just right as her tongue flicks over your clit.

“oh— fuck!” you moan louder, covering your mouth.

she hummed. “no, princess. let me hear all the pretty noises you make for me.”

she’s driving you insane.

“does it feel good? you like my tongue, hm?” her voice is low, coated in need. every word vibrates against you, and it’s too much. too much and not enough. your hips rock into her face before you can stop them, chasing the friction and chasing her.

“yes— yes! fuck, jimin—“ you gasp.

she groans like it’s the only thing she’s ever wanted to hear. and it makes her move faster. her fingers curl deeper and her tongue flicks harsher with more purpose.

“that’s it. take what you need.” she coos, voice muffled by your cunt.

you’re melting. falling apart in her hands.

her grip is bruising now, one hand digging into your hip to hold you still, the other one still fucking you open perfectly.

“you taste so good, baby. how did i go this long without this? could eat you for hours. days.” she breathes against your clit, lips dragging over it again.

you don’t have an answer. you’re not even sure if you can speak. all you can do is moan and shake and hold onto her hair.

you’re so close, and she knows it. she can feel it in the way you clench around her and in the way your legs tense.

“don’t stop— please, don’t stop—” you gasp and that’s all she needs to hear.

she doubles her efforts, fucking you with her fingers and licking you until your back arches.

“fuck— fuck, jimin! i’m gonna—“ you choke.

and she doesn’t stop. if anything, she gets messier. hungrier. licking and sucking with so much desperation you almost can’t take it.

“cum for me. wanna feel you all over my face. need it— fuck, need you—“ she begs again, voice hoarse.

and you do.

you fall apart with a helpless moan, thighs clamping tight around her head as you cum hard on her tongue. she groans like she’s the one breaking, mouth still working you through it.

when it’s over, she doesn’t even pull away right away. she licks you clean with lazy strokes of her tongue and only when you twitch from the sensitivity does she kiss the inside of your thigh and rise slowly, one hand on your waist to steady you.

your chest is still heaving when you open your eyes. her lips are slick and her pupils are still wide, but her smirk is proud.

“told you i’d take care of you.” she muttered as her thumb traced slow circles into your hip.

you huff out a breathless laugh, trying to level your head but failing miserably with her looking at you like that.

“fuck you.” you mumble but there’s no hate behind it. your voice is hoarse.

“you just did. or should i say… you let me.” she grins, then leans in to press a kiss to your jaw.

you roll your eyes, reaching up to tangle your fingers in her hoodie and drag her down for another kiss. it was slow and deep this time with none of the earlier frenzy.

her hand finds your bare thigh again and just squeezes gently.

“unless… you want more?”

her voice is low and husky. it’s right against your mouth but you feel it everywhere.

you don’t answer right away. you can’t. your brain is still fogged from the way she just ruined you and she knows it. she’s watching you like she’s waiting to pounce on you, eyes flicking down to your parted lips then your still trembling thighs.

her hand slides a little higher on your leg. just enough.

you bite back a noise. “jimin…”

she hums like a warning. “mm, say it again.”

you breathe out her name softer this time. like a confession. “jimin.”

her lips ghost yours. not kissing you, just there. “you have no fucking idea of how obsessed i am with you.”

your fingers curl into her hoodie again. “then show me.”

“you sure?”

you nod. but that’s not good enough for her. not this version of her.

“use your words, pretty girl.”

you swallow hard. “yes. i want more. i want you.”

the look she gives you after that? it’s hunger. pure hunger.

“good. because i’m not even close to done with you yet.” she mumbled before pressing a kiss to your temple, your cheek, and the corner of your mouth. everywhere but where you need it.

her hand finally slips between your thighs again, but it’s slow and teasing. she just rubs lazy circles that have you twitching from the oversensitivity.

“gonna take my time with you now. wanna hear all those sounds again. wanna memorize every single one.” she whispered.

you breathe her name again desperately.

and this time when she kisses you, it’s with that same obsession you feel burning inside of your own chest.

and when you pull away she doesn’t take her eyes off of you.

the hoodie she’s wearing hangs off one shoulder now, fabric twisted from the way you tugged her closer.

“you’re staring.” you mumble, voice a little hoarse.

jimin just grins, leaning her weight against the kitchen counter as her fingers drag slowly along the edge of your dress. “can you blame me? you’re wearing this little thing and expected me not to stare?”

you roll your eyes but you can’t help the way your lips twitch. “you literally invited me over.”

“yeah. to smoke.”

her hand slips under the hem of your dress, teasing along the back of your thigh and stopping just before the heat between your legs. you suck in a breath, leaning into her instinctively but she pulls back with a look.

“oh, you’re mean. you’re acting like you didn’t invite me over to fuck me.” you breathe, chasing her mouth with yours but she dodges it. she leans in just enough to brush her lips against your jaw instead.

her lips hover there. just barely glazing your skin. “i didn’t say that. but you’re eager for someone who came here just to smoke.”

you let out a laugh, tilting your head to give her more access. “jimin.” you warn, voice somewhere between a plea and a threat.

but she ignores it. her fingers skim higher, knuckles brushing the damp heat between your thighs but never pressing. never giving you enough. she wants you squirming. and you hate how well it’s working.

“you wore this dress on purpose, didn’t you? wanted to drive me crazy.” she whispers.

you scoff but your body betrays you, hips shifting forward without thinking. “like i knew you’d be there. i wore it because i look good.”

“mm. you look perfect.” she hums, mouth brushing just below your ear.

her praise makes your stomach flip, but you refuse to let her see how much it affects you. especially after she had you falling apart on her kitchen counter.

“still staring.” you mumble.

“still wet.” she fires back, cocky and quiet as her hand presses against your bare cunt again. just enough to make your breath hitch.

you don’t answer. you can’t. not when she starts mouthing at your neck like she’s claiming you.

and when she kisses you again, it’s slow and deep.

“you gonna keep pretending you didn’t come here to get fucked?” she mumbles against your lips.

you pull back just to glare at her, breathing hard. “only if you’re done teasing.”

she smirks, picking you up like you weigh nothing and walking towards the hall. “oh, baby. i’m just getting started.”

you yelp in surprise as she carries you. her grip on you is firm. like she’s been waiting to do this all night.

“jimin.” you breathe.

“mhm?” she hums, nose brushing yours.

you blink down at her, heart racing. “jimin.”

her name sounds too soft on your lips. it’s too sweet for how filthy her hands feel against your thighs as she walks you through the hallway like it’s nothing.

her bedroom door swings open with the shove of her foot. the second you’re inside, she drops you gently onto the bed, standing between your legs as she tugs the hoodie off. her eyes are wide and her chest is rising with every breath as she looks down at you.

and then that smirk returns. her fingers push your dress up and up and up, baring your thighs and everything between.

“still wet.” she mumbles again, thumb dragging slow and slick through your folds while her eyes stay locked on yours.

you shudder. you hate how good she is at this. hate how cocky she gets when she knows she’s wrecked you.

“you talk too much.” you mutter.

she smiles, leaning down to kiss the inside of your knee then higher. “and you love it.”

you don’t deny it. not when she’s sliding to her knees like she’s praying. not when she’s mouthing at the crease of your thigh. but she’s completely ignoring the place you need her most.

“fuck, you’re perfect.” she says, voice lower now.

you swallow hard, fingers twitching in the sheets.

and then she looks up at you, mouth inches from your cunt. “let me show you.”

her tongue just barely grazes you, hot breath ghosting your folds and lips brushing soft against your skin. it should be everything. it should. but it just isn’t enough.

your hand tangles in her hair, tugging gently.

“wait.” you breathe out.

she freezes instantly. her head snaps up, eyes wide with concern. “did i—?”

“no. no, just—“ you say quickly.

your thighs squeeze around her shoulders before you can stop them. she’s so pretty like this. on her knees for you, hands gripping your hips like she’s seconds from losing control.

but you want something else right now.

“i want you to u-use your dick, baby.” you mumble, not even meaning to sound shy.

her jaw clenches.

“you sure?” she asks, voice a little rough.

you nod, pulling her up by the hoodie bunched at her shoulders.

her weight settles over you, tugging her hoodie off and discarding it on the floor.

she kisses you like she needs to. like she’s been holding back all night and finally has permission to let go. and maybe she has, because the second her lips are on yours again her hands are tugging your dress up and off with almost no effort.

you let her. you want her to.

“you’re so fucking hot. always teasing me, acting like you don’t know what you do to me.” she mutters, eyes flicking over every inch of exposed skin like it’s the first time she’s seen it. and it is.

you lean back on your elbows with your legs still spread around her hips and you smirk. “and what do i do to you, jimin?”

her jaw clenches again, sharp and hungry, and you don’t get a real answer. not in words.

she pulls her sweats down, dick springing free, flushed and already slick at the tip.

the sight alone knocks the breath from your lungs. god, she’s huge. and she’s hard for you. all for you.

she strokes herself once, never breaking eye contact. “gonna let me stretch you out, baby? you want this now?” her tone is mocking but low with need.

you nod.

but you know she’s not satisfied. not when you’ve been running your mouth all night.

“use your words. you were loud enough when i had my mouth on you.”

you glare at her but your voice still cracks when you say it. “yes. i need you, jimin. want you to fuck me.”

she leans down and kisses you hard, like it’s a reward, like it’s a thank you, like she’s desperate to feel more of you. her hand slides between your legs again, spreading you open just enough, and then—

she pushes in.

you gasp, nails digging into her shoulders. the stretch burns but you want it. you crave it. she’s careful at first, slow and patient, watching your face the entire time like she needs to memorize it.

“there you go. taking me so well, baby.”she whispers, voice ragged.

you groan, eyes fluttering shut.

“eyes on me.” she murmurs.

and when you look up at her, her cheeks are flushed and her lips are parted. you can see the stunned awe in her expression as she bottoms out, and you realize she’s just as gone for you as you are for her. maybe more.

“you feel so good. so fucking tight— fuck…” she whimpers. her voice breaks at the end and she buries her face in your neck.

you feel everything. every inch of her, every tremble in her arms as she holds herself still inside you. like she’s trying not to lose it already.

you fingers thread through her hair, tugging gently and she groans at the feeling. her hips twitch forward.

“jimin.” you whisper breathlessly.

she pulls back enough to look at you again, lips still wet from the way she kissed you like you were hers.

“i’m not gonna last if you keep looking at me like that.” she says like a confession. like she’s ashamed of how bad she wants you.

you smile, but it’s slow and all mean girl again. “already?”

her breath catches. your hips roll up instinctively, grinding against her in a way that makes her hiss through her teeth.

her grip tightens on your thighs like she’s fighting for control. and losing.

"fuck.” she mutters, forehead pressing against yours now and eyes fluttering shut like she can’t handle you.

“awh. am i too much for you, jimin?” you coo softly, dragging your nails down her back.

she laughs shakily. “you have no idea.”

but then her eyes open again, and something shifts in them. she draws back just to thrust forward and the gasp that escapes your lips is immediate and involuntary.

you don’t even get a chance to say anything. her hips snap forward again— harder and rougher— and suddenly she’s pounding into you like she has something to prove. like she needs to ruin that little smile on your lips.

and maybe she does. because it only takes a few more thrusts before your smirk falters, lips parting with a moan as the pleasure catches up to you all at once.

“not so mouthy now, huh? where’s all that attitude, baby?” she mutters, breath hot against your skin as she fucks you into the mattress.

you wrap your legs around her, helpless against how brutal her pace is. and then her fingers find your clit again, rubbing in tight and practiced circles like she knows your body already.

“answer me.” she groans, voice low and strained.

“i— i can’t—“ you gasp.

“yes you can. c’mon, be a good girl. use your words.” her thrusts get deeper. rougher.

“jimin, please! ‘s so good— fuck!” you whimper, head falling back.

her name leaves your lips like a prayer. you can’t feel anything else except the way she’s filling you up so nicely.

“yeah? that’s what i thought. all that attitude just to end up a mess on my dick.” she pants, lips brushing your jaw, then your cheek, then your mouth.

you clench around her at the sound of her voice. it’s low, cocky, and desperate. and she groans at the feeling, pace stuttering just for a second before she fucks you harder.

“bet you’ve been thinking about this, huh? bet you touched yourself to the thought of me. acting like you don’t want it.” she breathes against your skin, hand sliding under your back to arch you up into her.

you can’t even form a real response anymore. just breathy, broken sounds. with her fingers on your clit, dick hitting that spot so deep you see stars, voice in your ear like she owns you, how can you?

“who’s making you feel good?” she demands, fucking you harder now.

you choke on a moan, head rolling back as your nails dig into her back.

“you are— fuck, jimin, you are—”

“that’s right. say it again.”

“you— fuck— only you! only you make me feel like this—“ you gasp, thighs shaking from how deep she’s hitting.

her lips crash into yours, messy and rough. like she can’t go another second without tasting you. and you let her. you give in completely.

she pulls back enough to speak, forehead resting against yours.

“you gonna cum for me again, baby? gonna let me feel you fall apart around me?”

you nod helplessly, everything tightening at once. your thighs, your core, and the way your fingers hold onto her.

“then cum. be my good girl and cum.” she whispers, barely holding it together.

and with one more thrust, you come undone, crying out her name like it’s the only word you know.

it makes her thrusts falter.

“babyy— i’m close— fuck, i’m gonna cum…” she moans.

“where do you want me?” her voice cracks when she says it, hips stuttering inside of you like she’s barely hanging on. you can feel how close she is. every twitch of her cock, the desperate way she’s gripping your hips, and the wild look in her eyes.

you cup her jaw, pulling her in until your lips are just barely touching. “inside. want you to cum inside of me, jimin.” you whisper.

her breath catches. her whole body tenses like she wasn’t expecting that.

“fuck—” she whines, burying her face in your neck. and then she’s cumming.

you feel it. the way she spills into you with a broken moan of your name, her body jerking with the force of it. her hips press down hard, as deep as she can go, and stay there as she trembles through it.

you’re both shaking. your arms wrap around her instinctively, keeping her close as she rides it out, soft whimpers spilling from her lips against your skin.

when she finally stills, she doesn’t move. just holds you like she can’t stand the thought of letting go. “still think i’m cute?”

you scoff breathlessly, rolling your eyes. “shut the fuck up.”

taglist — @saysirhc @prologue-ae @yuyuy90

[gojoest]

𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐄 — gojo satoru

MDNI, f! reader, she/her pronouns used, wc: 3.3k, flashback of how you met (1st part of the fic, past tense used, then we jump back to present, divider used to separate the two timelines. both take place on his birthday btw), suguru makes an appearance (as satoru’s wingman :3), established relationship (you’re married & have a daughter), reader wears a dress, first time face sitting + riding (oral, f! receiving), pet names (baby, my love), he cums in his pants, breeding implied at the end (sort of, to avoid spoilers)

a/n: happy birthday to my biggest mental illness ♡

side note: if the story of how you met sounds familiar to you, please note that it was from one of my talk posts from a while ago & i decided to make use of it : )

what gojo satoru wants — he always gets.

after all, it’s how he made you his as well.

“satoru, you’re staring way too hard at her”, suguru nudged him on the arm.

“think she noticed, too?”, satoru chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, ears turning slightly red from embarrassment, unsure if it was because he got caught or that it was too obvious he was checking you out.

“very likely. i mean, it’s hard not to notice an annoying pair of blue laser beams persistently invading your space”, suguru mocked. “are you going to talk to her?”

“yes”, satoru firmly replied, without peeling his eyes from you, “i’ll ask her out, i think”

“hey, hey. slow down there”

“nope”, satoru shrugged, almost like a stubborn child disobeying his parent, “i’ve made up my mind — i really want to make her mine”

it was a pure coincidence, or some might say fate, that you ended up in the same restaurant — he was there celebrating his birthday with a small circle of friends while you were present to honor your colleague that had just gotten a promotion at work.

satoru’s eyes relentlessly followed your every move, every gesture, from the moment you walked in and settled on the table next to his. it was rather unusual for him to be this interested in someone simply upon sight, in fact, even desiring to pursue something with someone so immediately. it was always the other way around — women would flock to him because of his looks and peculiar behavior, and of course — his money — but he would turn them down without batting an eye. love and seeking romance were never a priority for him, he did not have time nor any interest in them. but here he was, contradicting himself, being blatantly distracted by your presence while somehow trying to simulate an active conversation with his friends, more than frequently averting his gaze to look at you, his brain busy coming up with a plan to get your number by the end of the night.

it didn’t take him too long to finally make his move. he stood up from his chair and walked over to your table, stopping right behind your seat.

“excuse me”, he leaned in, placing one hand at the edge of the table and the other — at the back of your chair, “hello”, his face mere inches away from yours. taken aback by the way he, a complete stranger, had the guts to get this close to you, you turned to face him with a questioning look.

“i felt like i would regret it for the rest of my life if i didn’t come say hi to you”, he spoke.

truth be told, despite being astounded and a bit put off by his approach, you were slightly intrigued. he was handsome, pretty even — like that one oddly eye-catching cloud in a sky full of thousands that you notice as soon as you look up. the white henley shirt he was wearing made the blue in his eyes pop even more, the v-neck revealing a little bit of his well-crafted chest, just enough to leave you tiny bit wondering about the ridges of his abs beneath.

as much as the scenery up close made your cheeks feel hot, his boldness rubbed you up the wrong way, too much to let it just slide, and you snapped. “is that so? well, now that you’ve said your hi, you can go back to your table and live with no regrets for the rest of your life”, you rolled your eyes skeptically, pushing his hand off the table.

“oh, i am sorry”, he chuckled, brushing his hair back with a hand, “but there are three more things i need to do before leaving, i’m afraid”

you raised an eyebrow, questioning.

“first, let me introduce myself — i am gojo satoru, also known as the man to be your boyfriend, then your husband, and then the father of your children”, he smugly said. your eyes widening at the audacity of his declaration that left you at a loss for words. “second, i hope you don’t mind introducing yourself as well — as you are to be my girlfriend, then my wife, and then the mother of my children — it’s only natural that i know your name”, he continued, “and last but not least — i am not leaving until you give me your number so we can make this all work”

wow. this man was really fucked in the head, you were sure of it — who in the right mind would speak such nonsense to someone they just met? “you have to be joking, right?”, you laughed in genuine disbelief.

“no. i am dead serious”, he replied in a heartbeat.

“is this your move? you pull this on everyone you find remotely attractive?”, you narrowed your eyes.

“actually—”, suguru interrupted, placing a hand on satoru’s shoulder as he approached from behind, “no”, he spoke. “believe me when i tell you this — he’s never been this smooth in his entire life. i know he probably came off a bit creepy, considering the boldness of his actions — hell, even i am creeped out because it’s pretty unusual for him to act like this”, he laughed, glancing at satoru to let him know that he got his back on this. “but, what i’m trying to say is — my friend here seems to really like you as i’ve never seen him be so intense and interested in anyone before. he’s also a birthday boy today — so could you at least give him a chance before turning him down so quickly? you can come sit with us before you make up your mind on whether you want to give him your number or not?”

you thought for a second, weighing the options in your mind — he was pretty, although he annoyed you a little bit by being all bossy and arrogant as if you were compelled to belong to him just because he said so. but there was just something about him you couldn’t quite put your finger on that made you question yourself. were you actually drawn to him? you could say “no” and never hear from him again, occasionally pondering over the what-if’s and should-have’s from this night; or you could say “fuck it” and see where this strange encounter goes, and live your life without regrets — as he would say. there — he was already getting under your skin…

“well”, you sighed, “guess i’m down for that”

by the end of the night not only did you give him your number, but also a promise for a date the next day — the first of many to follow after.

“careful, you’ll wake her up”, you whisper, leaning against the doorframe of your 3-year old’s room and watching your husband place a soft peck on your daughter’s forehead.

“can’t help it”, he speaks quietly, “she looks like an angel”, before fixing the blankets around her, making sure she’s tucked in all cozily. “the nanny said she cried for papa while we were gone”, he puts a hand over his mouth to stop his lips from trembling, his eyes filled with nothing but love and tenderness, welling up and flowing from the corners.

“she’s such a daddy’s girl”, you sigh, a soft smile present on your face, “next year we can stay home and invite everyone else over — that way we won’t have to worry about missing her bedtime”.

“yea”, he hums, “let’s do that next year”, giving her one last kiss before turning off the night lamp and tiptoeing to you. “come on”, he puts a hand at the small of your back as you both walk out of the room.

“do you remember”, satoru speaks softly into your ear while walking behind you on your way to your shared bedroom, his front flat against your back, the hand at the small of it now circling around to rest over your navel, while the other — reaches for the handle of your bedroom door to push it open, “the night we first met on my birthday?”, he continues after carefully guiding you inside.

you stop in the middle of the room, his arms still wrapped around you from behind, your hands resting over his and playing with his knuckles.

“how can i not?” you chuckle, tilting your head back to let him rest his chin on your forehead, “that was one hell of a fortune telling you pulled on me back then”

“but i was right, no?”, he brushes his lips on your forehead before leaving a soft peck, “see — you’re all mine now, just like i said”, and then another, ”i made you my girlfriend first”, and another, “then i gave you my last name”, and a fourth one, “and then you gave me a beautiful daughter, made me a father”, before turning you around to face him.

“you partly owe it to suguru though — he eased me into the situation, unlike you”, you reply, humbling him like you always do. your head is nestled on his broad chest as one of his hands caress the back of it. still in his embrace, he slowly walks you towards the bed. sits at the edge of it and straddles you on his lap. his palms finding their way to the plush of your thighs draped over his, caressing them tenderly but needily as his fingertips press and then release against your flesh in quick repetitive motions.

“this is because i asked him to give me a hand in case you cut me off”, he admits, tilting his head to meet your lips, not to kiss but just to keep them brushing against each other as you speak. he loved doing this a lot.

“oh?”, you gasp into his mouth, pretending to be shocked to your core, “you wanted me so much that you of all people, the gojo satoru, had to ask someone else for help?”

“you have no idea. if that hadn’t worked, i would’ve fallen on my hands and knees and begged you to take me”, one of his hands reaching the side of your face, playing his fingers on the strands of your hair covering your cheek before tucking them behind your ear.

“hmm”, you doubt, “is that so?”, nuzzling your nose against his.

“mhmm”, he nods, “there’s nothing i wouldn’t do for you, i thought you knew that by now. it kind of hurts my feelings that you doubt me actually”, he acts offended, pursing his lips and turning his head to the side to face away from you.

“oh my, what have i done now”, you knit your brows and press your cheek against his, pretending to be very, very sorry about what you just said.

“you made the birthday boy sad”, he huffs a silly, somehow obviously forced, pout, “you’ve got to make it up to me somehow”

“i’d do anything to make the birthday boy smile again — just say the word”, you sweetly pamper, patting the top of his head.

“really?”

“really.”

“anything?”

“anything.”

“you promise not to go back on your word?”

“i promise.”

he pulls his cheek away from yours and looks you in the eyes, the blue in his shining with a darker shade of mischief now. and considering the smug smile on his face, you sigh — perhaps you just got yourself played, falling face down into his little trap.

“then”, he points at his own face, “sit on it”

to say you were surprised by his request would be a lie. he’s many times tried coaxing you into doing this in the past but somehow you managed to avoid it, part of you still shying away from it. it’s not like his tongue has never been inside you before. but riding it as if it were his cock seemed way more obscene in your head than anything you two have ever done previously — and you’ve done pretty much a lot.

“well”, you sigh in defeat, seems like the time has finally come, “today’s your lucky day”, you say as you get up from his lap and turn your back — a signal for him to unzip your dress — to which, of course, he immediately complies.

“as it should be”, his crafty fingers work the slider down, slowly peeling the dress off your body and letting it fall on the floor, followed by your lace thong and bra, “it’s my birthday after all”

“the way you always find a way to make things go your way gets on my nerves so much”, you turn around again and push him on the bed and slowly climb on top of him to straddle his chest.

“make a wish before you blow the candle”, you look down at him, your pussy close to his face, the scent of you tickling his nostrils, and he, instinctively almost, takes a deeper breath, rolling his eyes back and hissing with delight.

“freak”, you quickly look away, embarrassed, but he cups your cheeks, forcing you to look at him again, “i want you to look at me as you ride my face”, his voice comes out breathy, “will you do that for the birthday boy?”

you nod into his palms, “you’re insufferable” — “suffocate me then”, he coos through a grin, grabbing your knees to pull you forward until you’re above his face.

“jerk”, you say, but softly, as you lower your cunt on his willing mouth, landing your softness on his face in slow motion, immediately earning a throaty groan from him that shudders through your pussy lips.

satoru breathes deeply in and out with your heat on his mouth, the scent of you hitting his lungs and even below, reaching all the way down to his groin to further nurture his cock already throbbing in his slacks. his hand reaching down to unbuckle them slightly, to give more space for his hard-on to grow freely.

“mowe”, he muffles incoherently into your pussy, grabbing a handful of your ass cheeks to push you against his face, tilting his head up and down, jutting his jaw up and out to meet you.

you whimper at the friction, your clit bumping and rubbing against his nose as his lips are kissing your folds, his tongue slowly poking at your entrance with the tip before darting in — twirling around your walls — and out.

“nghh…s-sa-t-to—”, you barely cry out his name, tugging at his hair, mercilessly pulling him into your heat. as much as you hated to admit it, you loved this position. your embarrassment long gone and forgotten, you ride his face in a haze, your pussy getting wetter against his mouth and your movements — faster and harder each moment.

“heawen on my fongwue”, he groans. if he could speak properly right now, he would probably make the nastiest, dirtiest remarks, shamelessly walk you through every single thing he was feeling as you rocked your hips back and forth, grinding on his face. he would probably say something about your boobs, too. how they looked so pretty jiggling ever so slightly from the movement. he can’t speak right now, yes, but he can still get his thoughts reach you through actions — his hands run along your belly, gripping your breasts from below, squeezing and squishing them inside of his palms.

you clutch his hands with yours, “i can’t hold this position for too long”, and force them down on your hips for support. you hear him say something through a loud groan but it’s barely recognizable — most likely just him cursing “fuck” and “baby” from pleasure under your pussy, but also from the ego boost you just gave him — that he can make you weak but at the same time desperate enough to want to continue — despite your hips giving up — not only with his cock but his mouth alone, too.

you let him take over as you chase your high, weighing on his face as his hands grip on your hips, dictating your every move, composing the tune of your hips. his tongue is no more sliding in and out as he makes you grind harder on his face — it stays in, continuously licking your sweet spot clean.

“f-fuck, fuck, fuck…”, you curse loudly, reaching your hands to grab the head of the bed and hammer your pussy harder into his face, squeezing every last drop of strength left in your already cramping muscles until you cum, shuddering on his mouth.

“mfff”, he groans throatily into your hole, sucking and slurping your juices. his hips buck in the air, helplessly searching for friction to soothe his aching cock. his half-unbuckled pants are drenched with precum, leaking out from his tip through his boxers and out through the cloth of his pants, visibly staining them.

you can’t see but it’s easy to figure out from the way the bed bounces up and down as his ass meets the mattress after every time his hips fall down. “how cute”, you utter as you try to calm down your breathing, cunt still resting over his face.

his eyes are half closed, rolling back and hiding their blue away. all he needs is a little push, a little rub, you know it. you know it by the way his tongue has stopped moving inside you, by the way his hands have loosened the grip on your flesh, by the way his shortened moans have grown into one long and steady groan coming from the bottom of his throat — his entire brain solely focused on the muscles of his lower body that is searching, almost beggingly, for relief.

you lean your upper body back a little, just enough to make it easier to reach his shaft while still sitting on his face. “since you’re the birthday boy”, you drag your words out as you place your hand on his clothed cock, feeling the wetness that’s emerged from beneath against your palm, “i’ll give you a hand.”

his ass cheeks tense and squeeze as he presses his hips against your touch, ferociously rubbing his clothed cock on the flesh of your open palm. his groans get louder as he bucks his hips under your hand, pushing them up to meet your hand harder and faster each time — just the way he forces his cock into your tight cunt as he nears — until the last three thrusts that he always prolongs in order to properly and completely pump his seed out.

the inside of your hand feels hot against his clothed cock as he seeps himself out, the stickiness of his cum absorbing itself into the material of his pants and emerging through it to reach the skin of your palm.

you lift yourself up a little only to plop your body down next to his. his mouth, cheeks, chin, even his nose, are covered in his spit and your cum, all mixed in.

“shit, baby”, he laughs, breathing deeply in and out of his mouth, overwhelmed by the whole experience, “what the hell did you just do to me”

“do you really need me to verbalize what just happened”

“yes”

“no”, you slap his cheek with the back of your hand, softly, before rolling on your side to rest your head on the left side of his chest, kissing it tenderly. “happy birthday”

“it really is”, he whispers, tracing a heart shape over the skin of your exposed cheek with his fingertip, “with you, it always is”

“did your wish come true by any chance?”, you tilt your head to look at him.

“not yet. but i’ll work on it later tonight. for now, i’ll let you catch your breath”

“wait, wait.”, you raise a brow, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“my love”, he clears his throat, “do you remember how i said, when we first met, that you’d be the mother of my children?”

“yea? am i not?”

“children”, he stresses.

“oh.”, it finally hits you.

“one more to go”

[tojicide]

chapter 2 ── too easy, this game.

the spider’s sense: a spidercaleb series.

♥︎ spider-man!caleb x fem!reader

synopsis. ┆ caleb’s life was perfect—until it wasn’t. a radioactive spider bite turned him into linkon’s friendly neighborhood spider-man, the daily bugle started hunting for the man behind the mask, and to top it all off, he was forced to partner up with you—his smart, competitive, and infuriatingly perfect classmate who threatened his spot as number one in the class rankings.

tags/warnings. ┆ college/modern au, academic rivals to lovers, fluff, angst, eventual smut, gran isn’t evil in this LOL, the canon event, college parties, alcohol consumption, cliches, depictions of serious crime, references to the spider-man comics and movies, mdni

chapter summary. ┆ after you’re forced to check up on caleb, you realize that your methods of revenge can be sweeter and much more interesting than you had originally anticipated.

prev: chapter one. ┆ series masterlist. ┆ next: chapter three.

“Remember that fundraiser I was telling you about?”

You lift your gaze from the sidewalk, giving Tara a sideways glance. “Yeah, I think so. What about it?”

“Well,” she sings, hugging her thick textbook tighter to her chest before nudging you with her elbow, “I was wondering if you’d like to help us out! We’re always looking for more girls, you know. The sisters of Delta Gamma can only do so much.”

You suck your teeth, tilting your head as your eyes drift to the towering oak tree at the center of the great lawn. The campus had spent the past few days drowning under gray skies and spring showers, but today, the sun had finally broken through. Its warmth pressed against your skin, so bright you had to squint just to avoid being completely blinded.

You look back at Tara. “What day is it again?”

“Next Saturday,” she says with a shrug. “2 PM, in the parking lot between the Delta Gamma house and Lambda Chi Alpha’s.” A pause, as if she was already sensing your impending rejection. “Please? Please!”

You hate when she does this. The puppy dog eyes. That hopeful little tilt of her head. The same look that had managed to drag you to one too many frat parties when you swore you wouldn’t go. Saying no made you feel like some heartless villain stomping on an ant just for the fun of it, and for a moment, you almost caved entirely.

“I’ll… think about it, but midterms are–” you start, but before you can finish, she’s already beaming.

“Yay!” Tara links her arm through yours, practically bouncing as you continue toward Grand Hall. “I’ll text you all the details, ‘kay? I so owe you one.”

You press your lips into a thin smile, debating whether to remind her that you hadn’t actually said yes. Instead, you settle for, “If I end up making it, we’ll call it even for you helping me study for chem.”

She grins. “Good luck on that, by the way. I know you’ll do great!”

The two of you stop outside the building, and Tara leans in, lowering her voice conspiratorially like she’s about to tell you a scandalous secret.

“And remember, the electron cloud model—”

“—is the area around an atom’s nucleus where electrons are most likely to be found,” you finish, unable to fight a smile. “I know, I know. You trained me well.”

You squeeze her arm before unhooking yourself and stepping into the lecture hall.

“I’ll find you after class!” she calls after you.

Inside, the air is sharp with cold, and a shiver runs down your spine. The mood of the room seems different today, as if the oxygen you were all breathing in was thick with anxiety. Your seatmate, Yvonne, is already at her desk, supplies neatly arranged in front of her. You give her a silent smile before sitting down and doing the same.

Once again, you can’t help but notice that the room is quiet—eerily so. Everyone is either too tired to talk or too nervous to form a coherent sentence. Probably both.

As the exam begins, the only sounds filling the space are the rustling of paper and the scratch of pencils against scantrons. You’re on question 21 when you realize you’ve just marked “C” four times in a row. A bead of cold sweat pricks at your temple, and you read over each question about a hundred times, praying that you’ll catch your mistake. After all, that can’t be right… can it? Your gut says yes. Your overthinking says absolutely not.

An hour later, relief ripples through the room as students zip up their backpacks and shuffle toward the front to turn in their scantrons. You’re right behind them, ready to bolt for the door—until Dr. Rappaccini calls your name.

Pausing mid-step, you turn back to face her, plastering on a polite smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah?”

She digs through her bag before pulling out a worn notebook, its cover littered with colorful tabs and sticky notes. Holding it out to you, she looks as if she couldn’t care less about the transaction.

“I believe your lab partner left this in the laboratory last class.”

Your brows furrow as you take the heavy notebook into your hands, flipping it open with a frown. Lo and behold, there it was—‘Property of Caleb Xia’ scribbled in that god-awful handwriting. Raising an eyebrow, you shake your head. “It’s his, yeah… but why are you giving it to me?”

“He didn’t show up for today’s exam, and I’ve canceled class next Monday,” she explains, slinging her tote bag over her shoulder. “Since you work closely with him, I figured you’d see him before I do.”

Now that catches your attention. A sliver—no, a slap—of satisfaction rolls through you. So his sabotage in the lab had already come back to bite him? Karma was fast today. You couldn’t be happier. But unfortunately, the thought of voluntarily interacting with Caleb makes your stomach churn, so you extend the notebook back to your professor without hesitation.

“I assure you, I don’t care to see that man. It’s probably best if you return it to him.”

She glances at her watch, and you can practically see the sweat break out on her forehead. “Oh, I wish I had the time to. I’m running late!”

Gathering her belongings, she makes a beeline for the door. You’re quick to try and follow suit.

Her voice adds a swift, “Ask around! I’m sure someone can help you track him down.”

“But wait! I don’t even—”

The door slams behind Dr. Rappaccini, leaving you frozen in place with Caleb’s stupid notebook clutched to your chest.

“—know what building he lives in.”

You groan, dragging your feet toward the exit, already dreading the idea of having to track down that idiot. In fact, maybe you won’t.

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

“Hey, what are you doing?”

Tara’s voice cuts through the air, startling you. The flicked lighter in your hand dies out before you can hold it to the bottom of Caleb’s notebook long enough for the flames to catch.

“The damn thing won’t light,” you huff, shaking your head in defeat. “Do you happen to know anyone on campus who has lighter fluid?”

Tara crouches beside you, watching with mild horror as you attempt—and fail—to ignite the corner of the notebook again. “Uh… no, not off the top of my head.” She pauses, tilting her head. “And just to be clear, you’re aware that you’re about to light your notebook on fire, right?”

You shrug. “It’s not mine.”

Her head snaps toward you so fast you worry about whiplash. “Okay, let me rephrase that. You’re aware that you’re about to commit a felony, right?”

You flick the lighter again, giving her a puzzled look. “Please, Tara, I don’t care about felonies right now. This is war, and I need to take my revenge.”

“Revenge?” she echoes, her lips tugging downward like she hadn’t considered that to be your motive. “On the notebook or the owner?”

“On Caleb fucking Xia,” you reply, punctuating each word with another flick of the lighter. Then, finally, a tiny flame flickers to life at the corner of the notebook. A wide grin spreads across your lips. “Yay! I did it! Look, I—”

Tara leans forward, blows out the flame, and snatches the lighter from your grasp. “Are you nuts? You can’t just burn his chem notebook!”

You hum, twisting your lips to the side. “You’re right. I’d totally get caught. Maybe I should pawn it off to a frat guy? Make a quick buck. They’d probably pay good money for his notes.”

“What? No! You can’t burn his notebook because that would mean stooping to his level!”

You reach for the lighter, but she stretches her arm out just far enough that you can’t reach.

“Tara! When they go low, we must go lower.”

“When they go low, we should be the bigger person,” she corrects, patting your head like a disobedient child. “How did you even get it? You didn’t steal it, did you?”

You sigh, shaking your head. “No, I wish. Dr. Rappaccini gave it to me to return to him. Apparently, he left it in the lab.”

Tara tilts her head. “Oh. He didn’t show up for the exam? That’s… unlike him.”

Shrugging, you brush off the singed paper flakes from the bottom of the notebook. “I guess. Can’t say I care, though. It’s what he deserves.”

She scoffs. “Geez, this whole scandal has turned you heartless. The Caleb I know would rather eat glass than miss an exam, especially the first one of the semester. I hope he’s alright.”

“In that case, maybe you should be the one to return it to him,” you suggest, holding it out. “You seem to know where he lives, and you actually care if he’s alive. That’s already two steps in the right direction.”

Tara glances at her phone, then sucks on her teeth before flashing you a wry smile. “Oh, shoot! I can’t. I have my physics exam in four minutes.” Before you can argue, she’s already bolting toward her class. “Uh, I think he’s close with Zayne! The one from our bio class!”

You toss your hands up. “Why the hell am I being sent on a manhunt?” Patting your pockets, you realize something’s missing. “Hey! You took my lighter.”

“It’s for the better!” she calls over her shoulder.

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

After a deep dive through Canvas, a trip to Outlook to send Zayne a rather frantic email, and a very long walk across campus, you find yourself stalking through the halls of an unfamiliar dorm building.

Your eyes flick up from your phone every few steps, scanning the numbers on the doors to make sure you haven’t somehow wandered into oblivion. It’s been ten minutes—too long, in your opinion—and you’re beginning to feel like a headless zombie, doomed to wander these halls forever.

That is, until your eyes land on a familiar set of numbers.

Room 323.

Exhaling sharply, you raise your fist and knock three times against the door. The response is almost immediate—an audible thud, followed by an impressive string of curses.

Then, the door swings open, revealing a very panicked and very shirtless Caleb.

And you? Your brain short-circuits. 

For a second—just one—you can’t help it. Your gaze drops straight to his torso, where sharp lines of muscle carve into his biceps and abdomen like a damn Michelangelo sculpture. You’re almost positive those weren’t there yesterday. Scratch that. You’re absolutely positive they weren’t. 

And you would have noticed. You’re nothing if not boundlessly observant. After all, you’re just a girl. You would have noticed if your infuriating classmate had nice biceps that would have certainly softened the blow of his sudden betrayal in the lab yesterday. 

Pretty privilege is alive and well, you can’t help but think. 

Caleb, looking equally flustered, yanks the door halfway shut, reducing the view to just his face. His chest still heaves from whatever chaos had preceded your arrival.

“I, uh… um.” He blinks, clearly rebooting his internal system. His brain fries, and of course the first thing he can do is lean his elbow against the door frame while not-so-obviously flexing his much larger bicep in the process. “So… what’s up?”

Dragging your gaze up to meet his with only minor difficulty, you hold up the slightly charred notebook in your hands. “You left this in class. Rappaccini told me to bring it to you.”

Caleb reaches for it, and the moment his fingers graze the cover, his brows furrow. He flips it over, rubbing his thumb against the edge. A smudge of soot stains his hand.

“What… happened to it?”

You lift your shoulders, hands flying up in a gesture of pure innocence. “No clue. Your guess is as good as mine.”

Before he can properly assess the obvious fire damage, you straighten your posture. If you beat him to it, there’s a good chance that you’ll be able to walk away from this entire ordeal scot free. 

Just… be civil. You can do that much.

“Are you not going to say thank you? I literally had to email your roommate to find out where you live. It was a total inconvenience.”

Or not.

Caleb presses his lips into a thin line, tossing the notebook onto his desk before giving you a barely-there nod. “Right. Thanks.”

His clipped tone does nothing to soothe your irritation. You’re actually starting to regret not letting the damn thing go up in flames. If it weren’t for Tara and her obnoxious morality complex, you would have.

“You’re welcome,” you say sweetly, pivoting to leave. But just before he can close the door, something crosses your mind. “Oh! By the way, I wrote my number in the margin.”

Caleb’s eyes widen. His grip on the door frame tightens. “What? For me?”

A beat of silence. Then, you burst into laughter, and the fact that he isn’t laughing with you makes it ten times funnier. You have to physically wipe the tears from your eyes before you can speak again.

“Oh, you’re serious?” you wheeze, still catching your breath. “God, no. It’s for Zayne.”

“For… Zayne?”

You nod. “Yup. I have biology with him.”

Caleb leans back slightly, like you’ve just personally offended his ancestors. “And? You have chem with me.”

You flash him an expression that Caleb can only assume is the most passive-aggressive smile known to mankind. “Mm-hmm. Well, maybe I want to get in kahoots with people who don’t sabotage my lab reports.”

Ouch. Caleb rubs the back of his neck, swallowing hard. “About that…”

“Save it,” you hum, turning to leave. “Just be a doll and relay the message, yeah?”

But just before you step away, your eyes flicker to his chest again—this time, with an exaggerated furrow of concern. “Wait a sec… what the hell is that? You should really get that nasty mole checked out.”

Caleb’s brows knit together. He instinctively glances down—

And just as his chin tilts, your hand smacks against it, forcing it back up. Your laughter is louder this time. Almost cruel.

“Too easy, this game,” you taunt, shaking your head.

You’re gone before he can do anything other than stand there, jaw slack, ears burning a shade of red that rivals a fire hydrant. How could you prank him with the easiest trick in the book? He rubs his chin, shaking his head in utter defeat as he nudges his door shut. 

Yeah. He doesn’t like you one bit.

Before he can dwell on that fact, his phone buzzes in his pocket. 

xavier (pres of lambda chi alpha): i woke up late and missed physics. can U slide me the notes for the past week? i also slept through those days too… btw Ur still coming to the frat car wash next saturday right ?? we need U bro. U brought in so many new customers 

caleb: sure man :)

xavier (pres of lambda chi alpha): the goat

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

Sirens blare loud enough to wake you, their wailing cries bouncing off the buildings outside your window. The flashing of red and blue does little to ease your nerves—if anything, it invites the perfect storm of overthinking.

Your room is a mess. You haven’t eaten a balanced meal in days. A biology project is due next week. But above all? Midterms are rapidly approaching.

Lately, most of your days are spent holed up on the second floor of the library, tucked away in your usual corner seat. From there, you can people-watch from above and soak in just enough sunlight to keep from feeling like life is draining from you with each word you scribble down or type up. But after a while, even the comfort of routine turns into a cage.

It’s monotonous. Tiring. Far too predictable for your liking. If you don’t see at least one interesting thing each day—whether it’s someone walking their adorable dog or a person wearing a sweater so blindingly neon it makes your eyes hurt—you consider the day a waste. You still study, of course, but you need something of substance to fuel your brain. Something besides your bitter iced coffee, which barely manages to keep you conscious.

Maybe it’s the exhaustion of your second midterm season settling into your bones. Maybe it’s the weight of all your responsibilities pressing down on your shoulders. Whatever it is, it drives you to seek out a new place to study.

Is it 4 AM? Yes. Are the sirens especially loud tonight? Also yes. You can’t sleep. Sue you.

It makes perfect sense why you find yourself trudging into your university’s 24-hour café, headphones snug over your ears and meal card already in hand. Fuzzy pajama pants and an oversized hoodie hang off your frame, but if the cashier doesn’t care, neither do you. You’d be damned if you didn’t at least get your usual morning drink and a slice of banana bread to kickstart your day.

No more than an hour passes before the faint jingle of the entrance bell rings to life, prompting you to spare a glance over your shoulder, curiosity piqued.

Luck isn’t on your side. Of course it’s Caleb. 

And he looks… different. Not in the way he did a few days ago—no, he looks worn. Tired. A bruise blooms across his cheek, stark even in the café’s dim lighting. You force yourself to look away before you can start ogling like a freak. Again.

But as he makes his way in your direction, you barely suppress a groan, turning back toward your laptop in a last-ditch effort to seem busy. It doesn’t work. Not when you feel the weight of his beady little amethyst stare boring into the back of your head. 

You sigh, forcing a cheery tone. “Can you maybe not stand next to me looking like a decaying corpse? You’re going to attract flies.” 

Caleb shrugs, managing to pick an almond off your banana bread before you slap his hand away. “You’re doing that on your own. Didn’t you hear? This café was infested with fruit flies last semester. Your perfume is basically a mating call for ‘em.”

You huff, tilting your head. “Aw. Is that your way of saying I smell nice?” 

Rolling his eyes, Caleb crosses his arms over his chest. You notice a small cut on his bicep, but you do your best not to stare. You've done enough of that lately. 

“No,” he flatly says. “I’m just… stating my observation.” 

You turn back to your laptop, sliding your headphones over your ears. “Well, stop observing me.”

”Psh. Gladly.”

His actions are the first thing to betray his words, because he makes the executive decision to sit in the chair directly behind yours. He was sitting so damn close that you could feel the warmth of his skin through his hoodie—which you now notice is thrashed in a few places, as if he had taken scissors to the fabric and snipped away. It was odd, but you managed to look away as he shifted around to fish his own laptop out of his backpack. 

Then, before you can finish typing the sentence you’d been working on before he walked in, he beats you to it. Obnoxiously so. His fingers slam against his keyboard with such force you briefly wonder if an elephant from the Linkon City Zoo has escaped and taken up tap dancing behind you.

Your teeth clench. “Can you stop typing so damn loud?” 

“Oh, I’m not the loud one here.” 

You glance over your shoulder, finding that he was already looking at you, “And that means what exactly?”

“It means that I could probably hear your music if I was three miles away.” With his new heightened senses, that was hardly an exaggeration. He gave you an all-too-charming smile. “Turn it down a few levels, yeah? Thanks.” 

The lilt to his voice made you want to set him straight in more ways than one. “You little—”

“New Magic Wand by Tyler, The Creator at 4 AM is crazy work, by the way.” 

“Boy, I’ll show you crazy—”

Suddenly, a chipper voice rings through the air. Much to your surprise, it called out your name.

Tara strides in as if you all aren’t up at the crack of dawn, looking incredibly enthusiastic about life, much like she always did. You wish you could inherit whatever will she has to live.

“Hey!” she greets with a wave. She plops down beside you, turning around in her seat so that she could face both you and Caleb at the same time. “Funny seeing you guys here. Are you talking about the fundraiser?”

You blink. “Huh?”

“Why would we be talking about the fundraiser?” he can’t help but question. 

“Well,” Tara sings, “my girl here is going to be helping out Delta Gamma with the sorority wash! And you’re going to be helping out Lambda Chi Alpha again this year, right?” 

Caleb is almost positive that his heart has just dropped to his ass. 

He looks between you and Tara. “What? She can’t come.”

You let out a short, annoyed breath. “And why can’t I?”

And he knows he sounds like a petulant child when he mutters, “It’s my thing.”

“Aw,” you coo, tilting your head with a forced pout. “Is it your thing? Womp womp.” 

Caleb rolls his eyes, but you don’t care to see it as you lean toward Tara, lowering your voice as if you were telling her top secret information. “Why didn’t you tell me he would be there?”

“Because if I had, you would have totally refused,” she says matter-of-factly. “And we need you! We can’t let the guys bring in more revenue than us this semester, they held it over our heads for, like… months last time! Plus, I need you to combat him. I swear, he brought in more customers than anyone ever has, it’s no wonder Xavier begged him to do it again.”

You blink. “Are you serious?” 

Tara nods. 

You can’t help but rub your chin. “I’m surprised anyone paid him for that.” 

Caleb glances between the two of you. “I’m sitting right here.”

You glance his way. “We know.”

He lets out a harsh breath. “Look. If you don’t want to see me there, don’t come. Real easy fix.”

You tilt your head, raising a brow. “Why do I have to be the one to cancel? Why can’t you just skip it? You already had your fun last year playing chick magnet or… whatever.”

“I can’t. I already made a commitment.”

“Well, so did I.”

“Perfect!” Tara beams, clasping her hands together. “I’ll see you both there then. This is gonna be sooo much fun, guys! You can probably even get over the little feud you have going on, I swear, it’ll be…”

Caleb can’t even hear the rest of whatever Tara was saying. His mind is too busy short-circuiting over this very dreadful realization. 

You’ll be there. 

In a bikini top.

Covered in soap suds. 

Trying to pass him up yet again. 

This was going to be a damn nightmare.

series masterlist. ┆ next: chapter three.

a/n consider liking, commenting, or rb if you enjoyed :) i’m sorry this update took so long </3 i got so swamped with my uni work and wasn’t entirely satisfied with the chapter sooo i pushed it off.

i know that this is lowkey a slow start with really short chapters and there isn’t much spider-man stuff going on rn but… trust me guys. just trust me.

also ofc there’s a xavier cameo bc that’s my man soooo i had to include him somehow, even if he’s just a sleepy frat boy

edit: if you don’t know what a frat/sorority wash is just look them up on tiktok LMAO, it’s usually shirtless frat guys and sorority girls in bikini tops who wash cars to raise money for their foundations. it’s just a silly college tradition idk 😭

taglist. (join it by commenting under this post!)

@leonskenthusiast @universallysoulcreator @devonjs-blog @lacieohlacie @kisswithyoureyesclosed @lovesick-sylus @livonianmaia @hqnge @yuuuumii @mizzfizz @simpfortheseven @nyxthejinx-rantsaboutlads @mariojins @rcvcngers @yizhoupilled @irlsammy @gloomuri671 @risagichi @drinking2nite @seikamuzu @flowers-wilt-on-juniper-lane

@that-one-scoundrel @joy-laufeyson @missaengg @wheatrice @gvenone @desiree-archive @jayhyunglover @flwerie @miffysoo @jijijihanji @ssetsuka @mglwhor3 @sureconfused @vorfreudevortex @honehbee42 @angelbeat994 @codedove @cheesemachine44 @mocha-the-muse @msanimeotaku181 @breadiestpuffs @idkwhatursayinh @hannahchk @rxelarailuj @littlebabyypeach @wooasecret @nikilig @theweevilofsweetreef @etsuniiru

[shiningsuki]

maybe something more - bob reynolds x reader

WARNING: CONTAINS SPOILERS FROM MARVEL’S THUNDERBOLTS*.

Pairing: Robert 'Bob' Reynolds x Fem!Reader Summary: 6 months after the Void spread across New York, the New Avengers play house in the Watch Tower. You notice Bob’s always got a book in hand, and you have an idea. Warnings: Light mentions of anxiety, depression, mental health issues, trauma, both Bob and reader struggle to start any type of intimate relationship beyond friendship at this point Content: Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Artist!Bob, Bookworm!Bob, the Thunderbolts* as a dysfunctional family unit AO3 🔗 <- read it on ao3! Word Count: 6.3k A/N: Thank you so much for reading my first Bob fic! He and Thunderbolts* got me back into fic writing. I hc that Bob is an artistic soul and has a few outlets to calm his mind, so please do enjoy. And also please be kind since I haven't written in over a year :') Reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated 🖤 More Bob to come soon~~

6 months after New York

The penthouse suite in the New Avengers facility, the Watch Tower, faces an interior design crisis. You watch the argument in front of you with amusement, feet up on the ottoman in front of the couch you’re sitting on, arms crossed. Yelena sits on your right, head in hands. Bob’s on your left; you sneak a glance at him. He’s reading a book, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, and a vanilla milkshake sits on the coffee table beside the armchair. How on earth he manages to understand the book’s content with the ruckus, you have no idea.

“It should be white,” Walker grumbles. The ex-soldier faces the empty wall in front of the couch, his back facing your row. You hear the grimace in his expression.

“No, green. Like grass outside. Inviting presence; when people walk inside, they say, ‘Oh, I feel so warm and fuzzy.’ Subconscious from wall color — that is psychology, right, Lena?”

Alexei flashes a toothy grin at his daughter. She groans quietly in response, head still in her hands. You glance at her in pity, then focus back on the two men. Their voices start to rise in volume.

“No, white. Green is too mucky.”

“Green is good color. Why do you not want it?”

“I’m not having this conversation with you.”

“You are not painter. We tell Valentina’s crew to paint. Lena, tell him we should have it green.”

“God, you’re insufferable,” Walker throws his hands up and saunters into the kitchen. Alexei gives Yelena a hopeful look, and she groans again before getting up to stand next to him. Their debate continues, but you shift your attention to the quiet man next to you. All conversation fades into the background, and it’s just Bob, his nose in a book and his mouth hovering slightly over the milkshake straw in his hand.

You gently bump into his arm. “Whatcha reading now, Bob?”

Bob starts, nearly spilling his milkshake. He quickly sets it down on the coffee table before looking back sheepishly at you. You stifle a chuckle and watch him smooth his hair back with his fingers. Bob clears his throat, darting his eyes between you and the open book.

“Oh, it’s uh, Catch-22,” Bob turns the book to its cover, and you peer at the blue canvas. “World War II fiction. Interesting history stuff. It’s about this antihero, Captain John Yossarian, and discusses the absurdity of war and bureaucracy. Basically, he and his crew have to follow this Catch-22 rule: to be relieved from duty, they have to be declared mentally unfit, but if they request it themselves, they’re deemed sane and so must continue flying missions.”

“Ah, hence the phrase,” You reply. “With a Catch-22, there’s no win either way. You’re stuck in an impossible situation.” You slightly frown, remembering the last few months, but your mouth quickly shifts into a smirk. “Sounds familiar.”

“Exactly,” Bob’s eyes brighten as he chuckles. “I was super into reading about this stuff as a kid. Actually, what got me into it was…”

Bob trails off, his expression following suit. A shadow clouds his face, and you see his jaw protrude in and out from his chin. You tense inadvertently, but force yourself to relax. Bob hasn’t had an episode in months. Chill out. Still, you take a deep breath in before speaking.

“It’s alright,” You assure him. A tiny smile flickers on your face. “I understand.” Bob glances at you and closes the book, resting it on his lap. You stare at the cover, letting the silence stretch. Bob clears his throat again.

“Thanks. Uh, I like the book so far. I’d recommend it if you’re into that kind of stuff.”

You nod, looking back up at him. “Thanks, I’ll have to add it to the list. I haven’t read much lately, but I used to like it a lot. Gives me an escape from all this—” You pause, gesturing around your head. Bob smiles at that, and you’re relieved to see his expression lighten.

“That’s cool. It’s always there for you when you’re ready.”

You look at him, feeling your chest tighten. You inhale another deep breath. Bob seems like an aloof guy upfront, but sometimes he says the most profound things without knowing it. It infuriates and intrigues you at the same time.

“Thanks again, Bob.” The conversation happening by the couch fades back in, and you barely realize Alexei and Yelena have been arguing back and forth for the entire time you and Bob were chatting.

“Lena, green is beautiful color! It matches your eyes.”

“Alexei, my eyes are not green. And we are not painting the wall that color. It doesn’t match the rest of the suite.”

Alexei’s face is a mixture of shock and hurt. “Your eyes aren’t green?’

You glance at Bob, sharing a look of mirth, before you both burst out laughing. Yelena looks at you both with murder in her eyes, which only propels you to laugh harder. The blonde lets out a string of curses in Russian and stomps out of the room. Alexei chases after her, pleading. You wipe your eyes after you calm down and look back at Bob. He’s smiling ear to ear and genuinely looks happy. It makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside.

You blink. Okay, Alexei’s rubbing off on me. That’s a problem. You stand up and adjust your clothes.

“I’m gonna go out for a bit.”

Bob nods. “Okay, see you later.”

You salute him and start walking away. Then, an idea springs into your head and you shuffle back to him, stopping in front of his knees. Bob looks up at you again, round saucers for eyes, and you smile.

“Hey, do me a favor? Write down all the books you want to read. Or the books you love and want to have. Text it to me, or just give me the list, whatever you want.”

Bob quirks an eyebrow up. “Ooo-kay. May I ask why?” A hint of suspicion laces his voice, but amusement takes over his face, seeing your energy.

“No reason,” You respond in a singsongy voice before twirling around and walking away again. “Thanks, Bob!” You call over your shoulder. You just hear him laugh in response, and you can picture him shaking his head, his bangs falling over his eyes. You smile again even wider, excitement bubbling in your stomach from your plans.

You give Bob a week and some change before you see his bedroom door ajar, and you knock on it. He’s sitting on the floor, crisscrossed, hunched over a sketchbook with pages of drawings surrounding him on the floor. You lean on the doorframe and cross your arms, watching him for a few moments. He’s so immersed that he didn’t hear you. You give it another second or two before knocking again, although this time it’s more akin to pounding on the frame. You’ve never been much of a patient person.

Bob jumps and his pencil flies out of his hand, then rattles onto the floor. He looks up at you with wide eyes, frazzled, and relaxes when he sees you. He swipes his hair back, and you glimpse a dark smudge on the side of his drawing hand. He starts to gather his things, muttering under his breath.

“Jesus! Could you not keep doing that?” Bob glances up at you, his tone serious, but you catch a teasing glimpse in his eyes. “You know I have a fragile heart.”

You roll your eyes, smirking. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. You can handle a jumpscare or two, I know it.” You walk over to Bob’s bed and plop down at the end of it.

Bob winces. “I just folded that.”

“Oh, sorry.” You make to stand up and Bob waves his hands, gripping his sketches.

“No, no, it’s alright. You’re already sitting. Please.” Bob motions downward, and you follow suit.

You glance at the papers. “May I see?”

Bob looks back and forth between you and his hands for a few moments. You see in his face the gears turning in his head. He swipes his hair back again, and his foot starts to shake back and forth. He’s nervous. You give him a reassuring smile.

“You don’t have to show me anything. But I’d still love to see the artist of the group’s work, if you’re willing to share.”

Bob chuckles sheepishly, shaking his head. “I’m no artist. Most of these are just sketches, really. But they’re messy. And unfinished. It just… helps clear my mind. You know…”

Bob trails off, gesturing around his head, looking at you expectantly. You laugh at that, touched by the subtle mirroring of you from before.

“I get it. Everyone needs an outlet. It’s cool that you draw, though—I’m so bad at it.”

“I’m sure you’re not that bad,” Bob replies. He shuffles the papers a few times before resigning to hand the stack over.

You grin at him and snatch them away. Bob avoids your gaze as he moves to clear the rest of the floor. You look down at the sketches and start rifling through them. There are some landscape images, mountains, flower fields, the like. Then you see portraits of the team, some in motion, some stills. You notice that every image is from a certain point of view, which you can only assume it’s Bob watching the rest of you interact while he stays quiet in the background, ever the observant one.

The last few sketches are the team’s individual pictures. None of them are smiling, but there’s a sereneness and simple beauty captured in them.

“These are amazing, Bob. You capture us so beautifully.”

Bob rubs the back of his neck, still avoiding your gaze. “Nah, they’re nothing special.”

“Of course not. They’re special, because you’re special.”

You wink at him, which thankfully he catches. Bob immediately looks away again, his hair falling in front of his eyes. His body seems to shrink in embarrassment, and you laugh. You look down again and shuffle to the next paper.

You can’t hold in your gasp. All the sketches were stunning, even the mundane ones, but this—a portrait of you, laughing, looking off into the distance with a spark in your eye. It’s the twinkle of hope, of real joy, something you’re fortunate enough to feel in sporadic moments the last few months, after everything. You didn’t know if you would feel that way again.

Honestly, you don’t even recognize yourself.

You look up at Bob, who wears an anxious yet expectant expression on his face. You look back and forth at him and the drawing, struggling to form words.

“What is it?” Bob asks.

“This… this is beautiful, Bob. I’m…” You trail off, clearing your throat. “I’m flattered. But there’s no way I look like this in real life. This person is—”

“She’s you. It’s how I see you.” You stare at Bob as he plays with his fingers in his lap. “All of those sketches, that’s how I see everyone here. This team.”

Bob pauses, chuckling. “I’ve said this way too many times, but you guys saved me. You saw me for who I am, and you still reached out to save me. So, the least I can do is portray how I see all of you as best as I can—and do the dishes.”

You let out a laugh, in shock, awe, disbelief. Words escape you again as you and Bob share a look of understanding. You let the comfortable silence stretch before whispering out the few words you can only think of to say at this moment.

“Thank you, Bob,” You look down at your lap, chest tight again, before gathering the papers and handing them back. “That really means a lot.”

Bob nods, a small smile on his face, and takes the papers, but a sketch that you hadn’t seen before falls out of the stack. It flutters to the ground and lands face up. You inhale sharply, chest threatening to burst.

An almost black page, scribbles upon scribbles melting into one another, with two small circles in the middle. Your body reacts before anything: hands ball into fists, shoulders tense, and your breathing starts to quicken. Bob snatches up the drawing immediately and hides it in his sketchbook. He glances up at you, terrified, and retreats into his body, looking so small on the floor like a child.

“I’m– I’m sorry!” Bob exclaims, hugging his knees. “That– you weren’t supposed to see that. You shouldn’t have seen that.”

You shake your head, unballing your fists and shaking them out. You try not to notice the tremor in your fingers as you settle your hands in your lap. “No, it’s okay, Bob. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted like that. It’s just… when I think about that day…”

Empty, endless darkness. Falling into a room, then another room, then fighting your way through those painful memories before finally finding Bob, in his own room, and seeing no escape. Just… a void. You swallow hard. You still have no idea how long everyone spent in there, but it felt like eternity. Sitting in the pain. The shame, the disbelief. Revisiting what you never wanted to see again. But you had to, to save Bob. You all had to. And you know you would do it again and a hundred times over if you could.

Bob nods. “I know. Obviously, you know that I know better than all of you.” He pauses to gesture at the sketchbook. “Not all of these drawings are good. But like I said, they help clear my head. To regain lost memories. To try and remember all the bad things I did when I was… him. It’s cathartic, in a way. I try not to beat myself up over it. Some days are better than others.”

Bob shrugs, and you sigh. “Of course.” You get off the bed to sit beside him and place a hand on his shoulders. For a millisecond, Bob shrinks away, but relaxes since you’re not really touching him, skin to skin. You haven’t tried that, but from Yelena and Walker’s accounts, it’s kind of like a mini Void experience, but still not pleasurable.

You grimace to yourself. You don’t want to be afraid of touching Bob. You’re not really—he seems more afraid of contact than any of you do. So you keep your distance and close it when you can, just like now.

“Anything that helps you, I’m game. Do you have more good days than bad?”

“Yes,” Bob nods. “Thankfully. It’s not perfect, but it’s a step forward. I just haven’t used my Sentry powers since the incident. I’m… afraid to. Because then he… He might come out again.”

Bob swallows, and you squeeze his shoulder. “I know. We’re just trying to be cautious, that’s all, and what you’re feeling is totally understandable.”

Bob shakes his head, frowning. “I just wish I could be more useful. You know, help you guys out. All I do is wash dishes and clean up around the penthouse.”

You clap Bob’s shoulder before letting go. “And that’s all you need to do, for now. And be a friendly face. And share your book reviews and drawings with us. It really helps, you know. Everything you’re doing is enough, I promise.”

Bob lights up at that, smiling widely. You smile back and let out another sigh.

“Okay, dreamboat,” You say, standing up and brushing off your pants. You coined that nickname for Bob at some point, and it just stuck. He never seemed to mind. “I meant to ask you if you have that list of books for me yet.”

“Oh yeah,” Bob stands up and searches his desk for a moment. He turns to you and hands over a folded sheet. You take it and unfold it, skimming through the list.

“Those are all the books I could think of. I can send you more if I remember something I missed.”

“Great,” You say, folding it and tucking it in your pocket. You point at Bob and turn to walk out of this room. “Tolkien, Hemingway, Butler—some good reads. Thanks!”

“Wait, you never told me what you’re going to do with that list!” Bob calls after you.

“You’ll find out soon enough, dreamboat!” You reply over your shoulder. You glance behind you and turn to walk backwards, saluting. Bob’s head sticks out of his room, confusion clouding his face, and you just laugh.

“Seriously, you should think about showing everyone your drawings. They’re really something, Bob!” You salute to him before turning around fully to walk away.

Before you head out to pick up the furniture order you placed a few weeks ago, you stand in front of the newly painted beige wall. To Alexei’s dismay, the crew outvoted him and received a nice, monotone cream wall that matches the rest of the suite’s colors. Every wall is starting to be covered by various memorabilia, courtesy of members collecting random displayable knick-knacks to be showcased throughout the place. You’re standing in front of the empty space, which you had insisted that everyone keep empty for your plans, picturing the new furniture in front of it.

A pair of boots passes behind you. “Morning,” Ava’s voice chimes.

You motion without looking back at her towards you. “Ava, come here. Do you think mahogany will look good with this?”

Ava moves to stand next to you and tilts her head at the wall. “Yeah. They’re both neutral tones and don’t clash with each other.”

“Okay, good.”

“Wait,” Ava turns to face you fully, hands on her hips. “Didn’t you order the bookshelf already?”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, I did. I’m just making sure, and I’m getting it today.”

“Oookay,” Ava replies with amusement. “Is Bob still here? Won’t he see everyone assembling this?”

“No, Walker and Alexei took him out already. Sightseeing. He really hasn’t seen much of New York since the incident.”

Ava hums in assent. “Yeah, fat chance of that the last few months. Hope those boys have their wits about them and don’t leave Bob anywhere.”

You roll your eyes. “Unfortunately, I have close to zero faith in them, but we can only hope at this point.” You look back at the wall in front of you, determined. “This should take some time, but we’ll get it done before they get back.”

A few hours later, you wish you hadn’t said that out loud.

It took nearly an hour to coordinate the furniture drop-off and lug it inside the building. You don’t have superhuman strength, but you were stubbornly determined to drag the box into the elevator. As soon as you made it to the penthouse, the doors opened to Bucky, who gave you and the box a once-over.

“How the hell did you get this inside?” Bucky asked.

“Don’t,” You say, pointing a finger at the man. Bucky rolls his eyes and puts his bionic arm under the box, lifting it out of the elevator with ease.

“You could’ve just called, you know.”

“Shut up.” You strut past him and put a middle finger up behind your shoulders.

You exchange a look with Ava, who’s sitting on the couch with a book open. Her face wears a confused expression before you wave her away, exasperated. Bucky puts down the box by the wall with a gentle thud and wipes his hands.

“Hope nothing’s broken in there,” He muses.

You glare at him and refuse to entertain the notion. Your eyes sweep the living room, which conveniently does not have any of the books you ordered.

“Where’s Yelena?” You ask.

Ava shrugs, nose still buried in her book. “Dunno. Haven’t seen her all day.”

You groan, slapping your hand on your forehead. “She was supposed to pick up the books.”

You grab your phone from your back pocket and dial her number. After a few rings, your foot taps impatiently on the floor when Yelena picks up.

“Hello?”

“Where are the books, Yelena?”

“What books?”

You grit your teeth and start to pace back and forth. Ava and Bucky’s eyes follow your footsteps. “The ones for Bob. I told you to pick them up today from the used bookstore.”

“Oh shit,” Yelena replies. You let out another groan and rub your eyes.

“Dude!”

“Don’t dude me!” She exclaims. “I forgot, I was running other errands.”

“What other errands?” Your voice begins to rise, and Ava closes her book, crossing her arms while tracking your end of the conversation.

“Doesn’t matter,” Yelena says. You can just picture the blonde waving her hand in dismissal, like it’s no big deal. “I’ll get them now.”

“Hurry,” You hiss through the speaker. “Walker and Alexei can’t keep Bob occupied forever. I’m not even sure if Walker can stay sane with those two the entire time.”

“Roger.” Yelena hangs up, and you shove your phone in your pocket again. Taking a deep breath and closing your eyes, you pause just to breathe. Then, clarity washes over your body. You open your eyes and whip around.

“Ava, come with me. We’re waiting for Yelena in the lobby to help her bring the books up,” You motion at her to follow. Then you point at Bucky.

“Bucky, start unpacking the box and arranging the parts.” The man frowns at you at first, probably not liking the tone in your voice. You pivot and smile sweetly, albeit feeling a strain in your forehead. “Please. It’ll be great if you can start assembling the shelf too, thanks so much!’

“Hey, now wait a minute—”

“See ya, Buck!” You grab Ava’s arms to pull her quickly out of the common room.

What feels like hours pass by before Yelena arrives. You see a car pull up to the front, and she hops out, strolling leisurely to the back seat to pull out the first box.

You’re fuming as you step outside the building door and shove past Yelena, not bothering to say a word as you lift up another box.

“Hello to you too,” Yelena greets you, and you can only muster squinting your eyes at her in response.

“Now, now, ladies, play nice,” Ava says, walking up behind you with a box in hand. “Jesus, this is heavy.”

“How many more boxes are left?” You ask, leading the charge to the elevators again.

“Only two. We can grab them,” Yelena offers as she presses the close doors button.

That marginally makes you feel better, and you nod, giving her a strained smile. Yelena notices your expression and flashes a bemused grin.

“Hey, he’s gonna love it. And we’re here to help you assemble everything.”

“Ha, that’s funny,” Ava laughs. “You know, ‘Assemble’—”

“No.”

“Don’t even start.”

You and Yelena speak at the same time and let out a bout of laughter as the elevator doors close fully in front of you and start taking you upwards.

After the two women leave for the last boxes, you’re sorting through the books as Bucky continues to assemble the shelf. He says it’s easy to follow the instructions, grumbling the entire time, but you have a feeling he enjoys taking first responsibility in completing the task at hand.

Ava and Yelena return and start helping you sort. You’re unsure of how much time passes when you hear your phone ring. You grab your phone and hold it up to your ear.

“We are coming back,” Alexei whispers into the phone. “ETA 20 minutes.”

Shit. “Oh okay, uh…”

You glance behind you and see Bucky working on the last row. Ava catches your eye, quirking her eyebrow up.

“Try to stretch that as much as possible. We’re almost done - thanks!”

You hang up and toss your phone on the couch. “They’re here in 20.”

Yelena shoots up from her seat. “Let’s get to it, then!”

She joins Bucky to help him lift the last shelf row to the top and screw the bolts in. You and Ava start lugging piles of books near the shelf and placing them haphazardly in neat rows. You’ll worry about presentation later.

Bucky and Yelena join soon after. None of you speak, focused on filing the books away. Eventually, nearly every row is filled, with empty spaces to display any fun knick-knacks lying around. You grab a statue that was sitting out of place in the kitchen. Ava brings a fancy mug, Yelena stacks some of Alexei’s figurines next to each other, and Bucky brings over a small succulent.

You eye it as he places it on the shelf, and he looks at you. “What?”

“Where did you get that?” You ask, curious.

Bucky shrugs and murmurs, “Just had it in my room. I keep some plants in there.”

You feign shock, gasping and putting a hand on your chest. “James Buchanan Barnes is a plant dad?’

“Shut up, kid.” Bucky reaches out to ruffle your hair, and you duck, side-stepping him as he tries again to shove you.

The elevator dings, and all of you whip towards the sound. Everyone shuffles in front of the bookcase and waits for the men to step into the room. You take one last look at the shelf, admiring everyone’s quick work and how neat everything looks already before turning again just as the trio walks in.

Alexei’s hands hover in front of Bob’s eyes as they walk slowly towards your group. Walker trails behind, his arms crossed and his face bearing a curious look. You catch his eyes widening at the bookcase behind you, and he locks his gaze on yours. He gives you a small smile and thumbs up, which makes you stand up straight, nodding at him.

“Okay, guys, what is this?” Bob asks, his voice light. You see his hands wringing together nervously and you crack your knuckles, sharing the sentiment.

With a gulp, you nod at Alexei, and he moves his hands away from Bob. Ava and Bucky step to the side to show the bookcase in full, and Bob’s eyes widen to saucers, shining.

The mahogany shelf stands at least two heads taller than you. You’re on the shorter side, so it doesn’t seem like much, but from your point of view, it looks majestic. The case spans the entire wall and is lined with books. They’re mostly used, although you were able to bargain with the store owner for some rare collectibles. Valentina’s pockets run deep, and you’re determined to utilize her as much as possible.

You step to the side as Bob walks up, his fingers running across book spines and his eyes taking it all in. You don’t take your own eyes off him, gauging his reaction. You nervously squeeze your palms together, anxiety growing as the silence stretches.

Does he love it? Hate it? Bob wears the same awestruck, lost look that he’s usually susceptible to having, but you can’t tell if it’s more or less of a degree than normal. You’re tempted to break the silence until Bob’s wandering gaze finally lands on you.

“Is this… for me?”

You sigh in relief. “Yes.”

You respond so quickly that the breath leaves your body before you can think of more words to say. Almost immediately, you realize how personal that response comes across, how intimate, and glance around the room. Everyone has some degree of amusement on their face—from Yelena’s smirk to Alexei’s proud smile and Walker’s shit-eating grin. You glare at him before softening your gaze back on Bob. He looks at you, eyes still shining.

“I mean yes, I– well, we–” You gesture at the group. “–know you love books. So uh, I asked everyone if they would like to, um, have some of their own favorite books in the mix along with yours. So that you can read them whenever you want.”

You smile at Bob, then catch yourself. “I mean, you and uh, everyone here! Obviously.”

You cringe inwardly, but Bob only smiles. “That’s… amazing. So that’s why you were asking me for a list.” He smirks down at you, and you look away, feeling your cheeks flush.

Bucky clears his throat. “This was actually all her idea. We just went along with it.”

You turn to him with wide eyes, shaking your head. Bob looks at Bucky, then back at you. You freeze, feeling even more heat rush up your neck. Bob looks at you for a few more moments, stunned. Your face burns, but you don’t want to look away. After a few more agonizing seconds, Bob’s face melts into a soft smile.

“Thank you so much,” Bob whispers, and you part your mouth, taking a deep breath. His eyes flash with something indescribable, looking over you once more before he returns his attention to the group. “Everyone, this is so thoughtful. I really appreciate it.”

The team walks up to Bob, greeting him and admiring the collection. On the other hand, you start to slowly back away from everyone. You enjoy seeing them appreciate the plans you’ve had for weeks finally come to fruition, but you also feel an itch to run off and hide. After a few more slow steps, you turn your heel and march out to the balcony.

The blast of fresh night air cools your face, and you gasp. You make your way to the railing and lean heavily on it, bending down with arms stretched out and head facing the ground. After a few more deep breaths, you straighten, still slightly leaning on the railing while looking out at the view.

What the hell was that? Your heartbeat betrays your slowing breaths; you feel like you could run a marathon.

As you gaze out into the horizon, New York City greets you with twinkling lights, and your thoughts drift to the past few months. Finding out you’re no longer the hunter, but the prey. Forced into close proximity with other quote-unquote criminals and having to band to together to survive. Discovering a lonely man with powers beyond your comprehension. And fighting for your life to pull him out of the darkness, your own darkness and his, with a group of unlikely allies turned friends.

And everything afterward. Bonding with this group of people. This team. Never in a million years would you imagine. You’ve never been great at teamwork. But now, you have no idea where you’d be without these people. Probably dead, or in a worse place. Especially after getting to know a certain someone…

You can’t imagine a life without him.

“Hey.”

Speak of the devil. You turn around and see Bob standing near the doorway, leaning against the frame. You cross your arms and mirror his pose, smiling.

“Hey, dreamboat. Tired of the bookshelf already?”

Bob shakes his head vehemently. “No, no, not at all. I don’t think I could ever tire of it.”

He joins you by the railing, leaning forward and taking stock of the view. Your eyes wander to the group inside, animated conversation floating out the doors in a rumbling noise.

You nod. “That’s good. I was worried I’d need a refund.”

Bob chuckles at that. You look at him and smile, and see that his gaze is locked on yours. Intense, brewing again with something you can’t explain. You wait a few moments before opening your mouth to speak, but Bob beats you to it.

“Is it true what Bucky said? That it was your idea to get a bookshelf and all these books?

Again, you nod, although you avoid Bob’s penetrating gaze. “Yes. I… I know books help you. And it’s been fun when we talk about what you’re reading, what I’m reading, et cetera. So I thought everyone could have a space to escape, like we do.”

You look up at that, catching Bob’s eye. “The bookshelf is for everyone, but you’re my primary inspiration for getting it.”

Inadvertently, your chest tightens up after saying that. Your stomach flips and clenches into a ball, trying to decipher Bob’s expression. He gives away almost nothing, minus the glimmer in his eye that always seems to be there when he looks at you.

Finally, he speaks up. “That’s very kind. And I’m honored to be your muse.”

Oh. Your mouth forms a tiny circle, small waves of shock coursing through your body. You never thought of it like that—with Bob being an artist, you guess that’s one way to put it. You look away, out into the city again, suddenly feeling shy.

Bob lets the silence envelop the two of you, the city’s noises of cars honking and shuffling pedestrians filling the gap. Gears turn in your head—you want to say more, somehow, but you’re not sure what. Every now and then, you see Bob glance over at you in your peripheral, but he still remains quiet. That’s one of the things you admire about him—he’s observant, and good at latching onto others’ feelings. Perhaps to his own fault that he forgets about his own, but you try your best to keep him accountable.

Swallowing, you look back at Bob, who’s also looking out into the city. His hair blows back gently with the breeze, and he wears a serene expression. You’ve noticed that too, how much more relaxed he is after just a few months spending time in this watch tower, with this mismatched team taking care of each other. Selfishly, you’d like to think you had a lot to play in that change.

Kind eyes. Firm lips. Handsome, rugged, and soft all at once. More descriptions of Bob you’ve filed away in your brain, but you’d never admit to him or anyone else out loud—at least not yet. Finally, you steel yourself, breaking the quiet.

“Bob?”

He looks at you. Tonight, it seems a soft glow emits around him, covering his silhouette with a halo and making you feel like you’re in a dream. You blink—or maybe you’re finally losing it, bursting at the seams with everything left unspoken.

“Yes?”

He looks at you, dreams in his eyes, and fear fills you head to toe, threatening to drown you and pull you under. You grip the railing in front of you until your knuckles turn white, hopelessly trying to remain calm. Bob glances at your hands and reaches forward, stopping just inches from them. His eyes widen before he jerks back, looking away. Shame flashes in his features before it disappears just as quickly.

You feel a short wave a pity for him before you force it down. Bob doesn’t need pity—far from it. He wouldn’t want to be pitied. He just wants to be understood.

After you take a deep breath, you shut your eyes and let a flurry of words out before you think too much about them.

“I don’t know where we’re at and I don’t know if I’ve completely read the room wrong this whole time, but please let me know I’m not delusional, and that maybe, just maybe, we could be something more in the future.”

Silence. That’s all you’re met with for what feels like long, agonizing seconds. Blood rushes to your ears, your pulse quickens, and it takes all of you to steel yourself and keep your breathing even.

“Hey.”

You open your eyes. Stars dance across your vision before it settles on Bob again. Does he seem closer to you? Bob slides his hand along the railing until his fingers are inches from yours. He looks at them for a few moments before looking back up at you again.

“I’m going to be honest,” He starts, and your stomach drops. You swallow and start nodding, about to acquiesce, but Bob continues. “Let me finish.” He laughs, shaking his head, amused. You cock your head to the side, a flicker of hope blooming in your chest.

“I’m severely fucked up. And—I won’t speak for you—but you may or may not be on the same page. Am I correct in saying that?”

You laugh too. “Yes, that sounds about right.”

“Right. I’m getting better, but I still have a lot to work on. And to learn to control. And… I don’t want all of my shit to jeopardize whatever comes next.”

You try to stand tall, but feel your body caving as your resolve crumbles. You let out a sigh. “I understand, Bob. I don’t want any of mine to jeopardize our anything either.”

“But…” He trails off and sweeps back his hair with his free hand. His other one on the railing doesn’t budge.

“You’re not delusional. Everything you’ve felt in the past months, I’ve felt it too. I promise.”

Bob’s steady gaze threatens to topple you over. All you can do is nod in reply.

“Let’s make a deal. We work on ourselves until we’re less fucked up, or at least until we’re ready. Then maybe, just maybe…”

Bob’s tone is teasing, and you roll your eyes at his gentle mockery, but also smile.

“Maybe we can be something more.” You whisper.

Bob smiles from ear to ear. You’d do anything to capture this moment of happiness and keep it in your pocket forever. You smile back.

“We’ve got a deal, Robert Reynolds.”

You bump into his shoulder lightly, brushing your fingers a hair’s width from his. Bob sucks in a breath, and you look at him in reassurance. You scoot as close to him as he’s comfortable and settle into another long silence.

Giddiness bubbles in your chest. With another shared glance, you see a lonely man, saved by love and friendship, and a future where you and all your friends are truly happy and free. It seems like a flight of fancy, but when you look back out into the city, the possibilities are endless.

You’re in trouble, and Bob may lead you into a whole other fucked up-ness you’re unprepared for, but you’d ride out any storm with him. And you know he’d go to hell and back for you just the same.

[dark-l-angel]

A/N : You know what? I adore this request. It’s playful, it’s layered, and it’s begging for that “behind-closed-doors” tenderness.

Now be a good girl and sit back.. let me spoil you with this.. I'll do all four batboys, because you deserve the full banquet, not just the appetizer. Cuz

Batfam x silent, shy mischaracterized reader

Dick grayson - Jason todd - Tim Drake - Damian Wayne

Dick Grayson :

Dick is the kind of man who sees through the mask. People might call you "cold" or "weird," but the first time he sees your eyes soften just a bit when you think no one's looking? Hooked. Absolutely gone.

He'll be the sunshine to your clouded day.. always teasing you gently in public, trying to coax out even the smallest smile, but never pushing.

The first time you finally let loose in private and start talking a mile a minute about something random? He just stares at you with the stupidest, most lovestruck grin.

"Oh my god, babe, this is what you were hiding? I'm the luckiest man alive."

He keeps your wild side a sacred secret. He adores that it’s his privilege alone.

He’ll even tease you about it when you're out: leans in and whispers "Careful, angel. Don't let them see how fun you are, they'll all want a piece of you."

And behind closed doors? He's either the loudest participant in your chaos, or he’s watching you go off with heart eyes, nodding like a dork.

Jason Todd :

Oh, Jason gets it. People call him intimidating too. He notices you straight away because your quiet is not absence.. it’s presence.

People whisper about you, call you scary or “odd,” and Jason internally rolls his eyes like, amateurs. They don’t know brilliance when it’s right in front of them.

The first time you finally talk his ear off in private? He melts. He doesn’t say anything at first, just listens with that soft, crooked smirk that means he’s head over heels.

He’ll tease you about your "silent assassin" public image, claiming you’re his partner in crime.

"Yeah, she doesn’t say much. But if she does? Better listen, ‘cause it’s probably the most interesting thing you'll hear all day."

In private, he loves instigating your chaotic side: random debates over silly things, sneaky pranks, or just wild storytelling sessions where you’re the main character and he’s your loyal audience.

Protective and proud. He loves that only he gets to see your untamed side.

Tim Drake :

Oh, you had this detective hooked at "mysterious."

Tim sees the layers immediately. He’s intrigued by your quietness, and while others get uncomfortable, he feels right at home.

When you finally open up in private, his brain short-circuits.. in the best way possible.

He'll obsess (lovingly) over the way you light up talking about your interests. Expect soft smiles and attentive listening, like you’re explaining the secrets of the universe.

He also gets very soft when you get animated. He low-key records little audio memos when you go off on your rambles, not to share, just to listen to later when he’s working late at the tower.

"People think you’re quiet, but honestly? You’re louder than my thoughts, and that’s saying something."

He encourages your chaotic side gently, always ready to dive deep into your interests with you.

Bonus: If anyone dares mischaracterize you in front of him, he’ll subtly but savagely correct them with facts that leave them blinking.

Damian Wayne :

Damian adores the fact that others misunderstand you.. it means they’re too simple to deserve your energy.

He respects your silence like a fellow warrior respects the sharpness of a hidden blade.

The first time you explode with excitement in private? He’s stunned, but deeply honored.

He won’t say it out loud (he has pride, after all), but internally? Finally. She trusts me.

"Your restraint in public is admirable," he'll say with a proud little smirk, "but I prefer you like this."

He loves your chaotic side.. he calls it your "fire beneath the ice." He’ll even play along with your madness, acting all serious, but secretly enjoying every second.

Damian will cut anyone down with words if they dare to misread you. He does not tolerate disrespect towards you.

Also? He deeply respects that you only let your true self show to a chosen few. That exclusivity is something he understands all too well.

Anyway.. they are obsessed with the fact that the world sees you as an enigma, but they get the backstage access to your beautiful, chaotic soul. You’re their favorite contradiction.

To everyone else? Silent stormcloud.

To them? Thunder and lightning, baby. Loud, wild, glorious, and full of life.

A/N : my dear, you just described a dream dynamic.. truly.. and I hope you feel a little seen in this. Actually, I’ll tell you something bold: your "resting bitch face" and quiet aura? It's a power. The real fun is knowing not everyone deserves to see your wild heart. But the ones who do? Oh, they’ll never get enough of you.

[keehendrixx]

You Talk Too Much

dom!Terry! Terry Richmond x Black!Female Reader

Warnings: MDNI! this story is 18+!, Smut, a hint of BDSM, breeding kink, creampie, dirty talk, degradation, oral (male receiving), P in V, solo masturbation, usage of b-word! Drug use, alcohol use.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You honestly didn’t expect your legs to be hooked over this man’s shoulders as he consistently dug into your depths. His eyes staring into your soul as whimpers came from your lips. Tonight was supposed to be a good night with laughter, drinks flowing, dancing, ect. So how did you exactly end up in this position? Well you’re mouth got you in it in the first place.

Earlier that night

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You and Terry went out with a couple friends you’ve known since moving into town. At least all of you guys were in relationships so why not make it a couples night. As you all made your way into the bar, the drinks began to pour. Your friends and you made it to the bar and began chatting.

“Girl how you manage to get Terry ass out the house?” Shay asked.

“No, for real because he doesn’t even come out like that!” Your other friend, Anissa, replied.

You chuckled.

“Y’all I honestly had to bribe him with some head to get him to come”

The two ladies looked at each other and snickered.

“Well I be damned bitch!” Shay laughed.

As y’all ordered another round of shots, you kept catching glances at Terry who was surrounded by his own homeboys. The cloud of smoke circling him as he took a puff from the blunt he was smoking. If you weren’t in a room full of people and in public, you would’ve sat your pussy on his face right then and there. He looked so sexy inhaling that smoke and letting it back out.

Your friends snapped you out of your hornified trance. Shay and Anissa asked you a very interesting question. “How is Terry in the bedroom” they both said. Your eyes went wide, but you quickly regained yourself. You smirked. “A fucking animal”, you replied back.

“Details bitch, we need details.” said Anissa

Knowing that Terry isn’t for his business being out and the open, even if it’s you telling your friends, you begin rambling on about how dominant and controlling he is.

As you went on and on, you didn’t even notice Terry creeping up on you three. He heard every single word came out of your mouth. As he came and stood behind you, Shay and Anissa’s facial expressions changed and you caught wind of that. You asked what was wrong and the only thing they could do was nudge their heads forward towards you, indicating someone was behind you. You slowly turned around only to be meet with a pair of hazel eyes.

Terry stood there with one of his eyebrows raised and him looked down at you. Your body instantly grew hot and your panties became moist.

“Baby, I thought you were with the-”

Terry cut you off mid sentence.

“Save that shit, what was said babygirl?” He came close, almost pressing his built body against yours.

“N-Nothing.”

“I heard every word you said, now I’ma need for you to go be a good girl and go wait by the car. We got some talking to do.”

Without hesitation, you grabbed your purse and sprinted to the car, you didn’t even say bye to your friends. Stay and Anissa looked at each other and muttered “Oooh”.

As you stood at the car, you seen Terry exiting the building. He unlocked the doors and you got in the front seat as he got in the driver’s seat. He started the car and drove off. He keep his gaze forward as he drove and occasionally gave you the side eye. After what seemed minutes of silence you started talking.

“Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was talk-”

“Did I say you could speak? You’ve done enough of that tonight, but I got something for that tho.”

If you could, you would’ve melted into the car seat.

“Matter fact, lift that dress up and slide them panties to the side and play with that puss.”

“Terry..”

“Now, I ain’t asking you, I’m telling you.” He gripped your inner thigh and pulled them apart.

You lifted from the seat a little allowing your dress to rise and you pulled your panties to where he wanted them. You took your thumb and begin rubbing your clit in slow circles, while your index and ring finger slipped inside of you.

“You better not moan or cum either, I’ma teach yo’ ass.”

Your juices flowed out of your hole like a waterfall as you bit your lip to keep from making a sound. Terry looked at you and back and the road, then at the mess you were creating.

“She wet as fuck, mama. That pussy wet for me?”

You didn’t answer.

“Answer me when I’m talking to you.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?” Terry demanded.

“Yes, Daddy.”

You felt your orgasm coming and you began fingering your bundle of nerves faster, Terry noticed this and snatched your hand away.

“I said not to fucking cum!” He barked as you sighed.

Minutes later, he pulled into you two shared home. He cut the car and grabbed your face, turning it to him.

“You got 1 minute to be in the room, naked, and in the assumed position. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

You scrambled out the car into the house damn near tripping up the stairs as you discarded your clothes. Terry walked in a little bit while after and came upstairs to the bedroom to find you on your knees.

“Such a pretty bitch and good girl for me.” He roughly grabbed your chin making you look up at him.

He rubbed your lips with his thumb as he began shredding his clothes. There he stood in all his glory, those ripped abs, strong arms with prominent veins popping out. Your eye’s traveled down further and they stopped at his thick, long dick.

He then tied your arms behind you.

“I want all mouth mamas, no fucking hands.”

“Gotta put this mouth you got to good use for a mouthy bitch like you. Open up.”

You opened your mouth and he leaned down to spit directly in yours. He tapped his dick on your tongue and he notches the broad head past your lips, groaning at the exquisite sensation of your tongue lapping at the sensitive underside. Slowly, inch by thick inch, Terry feeds more of his impressive length into the wet heat of your mouth, careful not to overwhelm you. You slightly gagged a little when you felt his tip touch the back of your throat.

“Nah, we ain’t doing that shit. Take it.” He gritted through his teeth.

Terry fucked your mouth as if you were a human fleshlight. You felt his saliva combing with yours and you took him deeper than you could possibly imagine. Spit pooled around your mouth and dripped onto your chest.

“Fuck, just like that.”, he praises breathlessly, his grip tightening slightly in your hair. “Take it deeper, gorgeous. Show me how well you can suck this big dick.” He grunted.

“Suck my fucking dick, just like that slut.”

“You such a nasty girl for Daddy and I love that.”

Terry felt is nut coming and held your head down as he released in your mouth.

“FUCKKKK!” He slipped out of your mouth.

“Swallow it.”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Now here you are, legs over his shoulders as he gave you long deep strokes of absolute pleasure.

“Mhmm, fuck Daddy I can’t. It’s too much.” You moaned as you tried to pry him away from you. He snatched your arms away and hooked them over your head.

“You don’t ever tell me what you can’t do. You take what the fuck I give you.”

You were so out of it at this point, the only thing you cared about was cumming. Terry didn’t slow down on his thrusts either. This man was literally bringing you to oblivion and back. He lets your legs down and spread them back with both of his big hands, to the point they were touching your cheeks. You could feel his tip poking at your cervix and he pushed his on your lower abdomen, causing you to scream out.

“Daddy, please! Let me cum! I’ll be a good girl and I won’t open my mouth anymore.” You barely got out as your voice was going horse.

“I know you won’t, not after I’m done breaking ya lil’ ass in.”

Terry focuses his attentions on your clit, circling the sensitive bud with his thumb as your legs quake and shake. He hums in satisfaction, the pleasure coursing through both of your veins.

“Look at her, she just drippin’ all on these sheets. Creamy pretty ass pussy.”

He grabbed your face and made you look down at the mess you were creating all over his shaft. A thick white ring of cream that coated him and leaked on the bed.

You could feel your orgasm coming and he knew it.

“You wanna cum for me, don’t you?”

“Yessss, Daddy can I please cum?” You begged him.

“Wet that fat dick up baby, it’s yours.”

Your body shook uncontrollably as you came. Terry’s thrust grew sloppier but he pulled out and flipped you on all fours. He rubbed his tip against your wet folds, teasing you with it by pushing it in but not all the way. He spanked your ass until it was red and you had tears in your eyes.

“Daddy fuck me!” You screamed.

“Greedy fucking bitch!” Without warning, Terry lines up his rehardened cock and slams forward, burying himself to the hilt inside your tight heat in one powerful thrust. A low groan tears from his throat at the exquisite sensation of your walls clenching around him. “FUUCKK!”

The obscene slap of skin on skin echoes through the room as Terry takes you hard and fast, his heavy balls slapping against your clit with each forceful thrust. One large hand snakes around to roughly palm your bouncing tits while the other grips your hip, holding you steady for his relentless assault.

“Ouu fuck me! Fuck me with that big dick baby!”

Terry snarls in feral approval at your shameless begging, doubling his efforts to pound into your sopping pussy with animalistic fervor. The headboard slams against the wall with each brutal thrust, the entire bed shaking from the force of his passion.

Releasing your hip, Terry brings his hand down in a stinging slap to your jiggling ass cheek before reaching around to furiously rub tight circles over your aching clit. The dual stimulation proves too much, sending shockwaves of ecstasy rippling through your core.

“Cum on this dick, now!”

Your orgasm ripples through you like a tsunami.

“I’m finna nut in this pretty puss. Knock yo’ ass up! Make you round with my baby.”

“Cum in me big daddy! Please, I want your babies! UGHHH!”

With a guttural moan, Terry hilts himself one final time, grinding against your cervix as his dick throbs and pulses inside you. He buries his face between your shoulder blades, panting heavily as he rides out the intense waves of his release.

“Shit, fuck... so fucking good.” He grunts, hips twitching with the aftershocks of his climax. Terry pulls out, his softening member slipping free with a gush of combined fluids. He strokes himself a few times, aiming his tip away from your body as the last spurts of cum paint your lower back and ass.

“Next time, don’t open your mouth so damn much.”

A/N: this was my first time writing so go easy on me yall 😭.

@dxddykenn @writingsbytee @beenathembo @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @jimmybutlrr @theogbadbitch @kaylaahisthebestest- @theblacklewinsky @vivaalenaa @theereina @peachbuttetfly @callme-lover @pocketsizedpanther @nayaesworld @kimuzostar @episodes-ff @hxneyclouds @planetblaque @lrryss-vghn @luuvprincess

[bernardsbendystraws]

[ I made this like 4 pages. I apologize lmao. Read at your own discretion. Violence involved but nothing like really vulgar. This is NOT proofread. ]

You wanted your skin to peel off your bones. That’s how uncomfortable you felt. It wasn’t your typical Saturday night, this was way past your comfort zone. 

“I’m gonna say hi to a couple people and we’ll leave soon, alright? Can you just stick with these girls for a couple minutes?” Matt asks.

He didn’t even wanna be here. But for some reason, it was practically a requirement. Not really, but he was tired of people on social media accusing you for his lack of presence in parties and events. They twisted that picture to make it seem like you were the villain. Matt knew it stressed you out. It seemed like a good compromise. 

“Yeah, just…be quick. Please,” you mutter. 

Matts nods, pressing a swift kiss to your temple before walking off. He doesn’t wanna be here anymore than you. You can tell by the way he pulls Chris and Nick subtly that he’s trying to make this as quick as possible. 

A couple minutes pass and you can’t help but feel a bit uneasy. These girls have been chill, but a little too chill. Honestly—you’re not sure if even one of them will remember a single sentence when they wake up tomorrow. 

Your nerves peak when you feel a slight brush on your arm as someone stands next to you. It’s a man—the same guy who had been handing out little bags of gummies and powder all night. 

“Hey, noticed you’re lookin’ a little to…” he looks up and down, making you tense and cross your arms tighter against your chest. “---yeah, too uptight. Here,” he nudges your arms with a closed fist, but you simply shake your head from side to side. 

“Not interested but thanks.” 

The slight rim of red clouding his eyes becomes more visible as he stares down at you. Anxiety seems to still as you revel in this feeling—pure adrenalin. Almost as if your body knows something is wrong. 

“Oh, come on. Won’t hurt ya, just try some.” He’s unrelenting. You simply mutter no under your breath as your eyes scan around you. 

It’s only these girls and you. The girls who can’t even keep their eyes staring in one direction for more than a second. Everyone had piled inside, wanting to be as close to the screaming bass of music as possible. 

You’re fucked. 

“Look, I…I’m not interested, okay? I,” 

Panic shrivels through your veins as you watch him open his hand, revealing a pill. It’s not one you’ve ever seen before. But, you don’t have much time to process anything before he starts lifting it towards your mouth, his other hand scooping underneath your jaw.

“Live a little, damn—so fuckin’ bitchy. This will help you, trust—”

The man lets out a hiss as you swat his hands away. “I don’t want your stupid pills. Just—just leave me alone, okay?” you announce. 

Substances seem to have consumed everyone within your radius. Those girls are just…gone. You feel bad leaving them, but the second you see him start to lean down to pick up the pill, you quickly walk inside the booming house. 

The silence from your adrenalin is gone. Sweaty bodies rub up against you as you try to swerve through and find the familiar head of brown hair. 

You try to stand on your tippy toes to get a better look. But, that’s a mistake. You feel an arm crawl around your hips from behind, pulling you into a hard chest. 

“Dude! Let—go!” you huff, attempting to rattle the man's hold on you. 

Eventually, his grip loosens, but only to shift and grab your wrist instead. “What the fuck is your problem?” he spit, his words slurring. 

Frustration builds in your chest, panic makes your limbs feel like feathers as bodies push and pull around you. It’s an overwhelming wave of madness. 

“Just—fucking hell, can you just stop?” you screech, trying to individually peel his fingers from around your wrist. 

You can’t tell if it hurts. There’s so many noises, so many sensations. You can’t even hear your own thoughts except for the racing mantra screaming danger. 

It’s just then you see the small glimmer of familiar rings only a couple people away from you. Matt. You try to yell out his name, but it just isn’t enough. He can’t hear you. If only he’d turn around. 

“Tell me. What’s your issue, huh? You’re at a party. What the fuck do you expect to—” The guy is still spitting in your face. Adrenal and fury shift to instinct. You want to get away, you want his hands off. 

Biting on the side of your cheek, you let your leg swing up to kick him right in the groin. His grip immediately falters. You squish through people as fast as possible, hearing a slur of insults from behind you. 

If this doesn’t work, you’re truly fucked. 

Your fingers clasp onto Matt’s shoulder desperately. Almost instantly recognizing your touch, Matt turns his head to see you, swiftly pulling you to him by shoving another person out of the way. 

“Hey, I thought you were gonna wait with those girls—what’re you—” 

Matt is confused to say the least. You’re never one for PDA, but right now—you don’t care about anything besides avoiding the man trying to catch you and screaming sentences of ‘where’s that bitch,’ over and over again. 

“Just hide me.” 

Squinting his eyes, Matt obeys. You stand in front of him. You’re shielded from the angry eyes as you hear the man stomp past the small group. 

A breath of relief finally escapes your lips as you let yourself relax the smallest bit onto Matt. 

“What….what happened, doll?” he asks into your ear. 

You don’t even know where to start. 

A shake of your head lets Matt know to ask later, but as of right now—he knows. It’s time to leave. He doesn’t have to know it all, he just wants to protect you. 

__________

The car ride home was deadly silent. Chris and Nick were confused at the anxious energy radiating in the car, but no explanations were left for them. Matt had immediately pulled you into his room, closing the door for privacy before giving you that look. 

“Sweetheart, should I—should I be worried? What even happened?” 

Rushed words are still numb. Honestly, even a couple of laughs peel from your lips as you explain everything. It doesn’t feel like it actually happened. But it did. 

“I…are you okay? I’m so sorry I left, I thought it would be safer out there with those girls than inside in that fuckin’ chaos. You….” he trails off, unsure. 

You’re quick to confirm you’re okay. It could’ve ended so much worse. 

Matt isn’t entirely convinced. It’s a little later when you're both showering together when he sees the red mark around your wrist, along with a couple scratches from your own nails when you were trying to peel that man's hand off. 

He lets out a heavy breath while lightly massaging suds onto the area and rinsing it off carefully. Matt looks up at you with sympathetic eyes, letting them close as he presses his lips right above the wounded skin. 

“I’m sorry, doll.” 

It makes it feel a little heavier seeing the mark and seeing just how saddened his own eyes look. But, it’s okay. You’re here, you’re safe. 

“We’re never going to a party again.”  The way he emphasizes his words makes your heart flutter. Relief floods your system as you look forward to a normal night tomorrow—a cozy, sunday night. Just how you both like it.

[number1mingyustan]

Still Yours

idol!mingyu x fem!reader

Warnings: kissing, cursing, grinding, lots of sexual tension, explicit smut, protected sex (missionary), fingering (f.), low-key rough sex, scratching, teasing, they're so cute and domestic ugh, teensy bit (a lot) of angst cuz i can't live without it, if you realllyy read into it it’s a lil toxic but they’re so cute 😪

Summary: When you’re with him, the time around you ceases to exist. You’ve got your own little bubble that’s immune to reality where he’s just yours.

Word Count: 5.1k

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(a/n: i usually don't read/write content where they idols because I'm simply not a fan. but i read a jk fic like this recently and it was a masterpiece. to say the least i was inspired so shout out to that author and i hope you enjoy)

The cool outside air fills your lungs as you step onto the sidewalk. It’s not cold, just fresh and cool enough to rejuvenate you from the hot sweaty air from inside of the club.

It’s a lot emptier out here, it helps to clear your mind. There’s only two or three other people out here, having a smoke in silence or waiting impatiently for an uber.

Your mind is still just a little bit muggy from the alcohol coursing through your veins, but being outside has instantly given you clarity.

You just couldn’t be in there any longer. The guy at the bar just could not take a hint. He was cute too, the type of guy you would typically be interested in. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t interested in him at first.

But then halfway through your conversation and his hand touched your lower back, the guilt settled in. It suddenly felt so wrong. The guy in the club’s hand didn’t feel the same as when he does it.

Almost instantly, it registered in your mind. This stranger didn't compare. He had nothing on the guy who really has your heart.

The famous idol who doesn't hesitate to answer your phone calls or cook for you when you're hungry.

This guy was a nobody.

One phone call and you’d have so much better.

The stranger clearly didn’t pick up on your shift in energy, probably too drunk to notice how you started to pull away. You were suddenly uninterested in anything he had to say and it was exhausting to have to fake laugh and smile as you tried to make excuses as to why you weren’t going home with him tonight.

But he was persistent and suddenly felt too touchy. He probably wasn't touching you as much as you thought, but you were suddenly so aware of him that it felt wrong with him being so close. His very presence alone was irritating. You finally caught the attention of one of your friends and gave her the ‘SOS’ look. She drunkenly stumbled over to you and pulled away from the conversation somewhat smoothly.

You thanked her before letting her know you were stepping out to get some fresh air.

But now it's a little after one in the morning and your thoughts are clouded with him. Your mind begins to wander to the moments you've shared over the past few years. The pet names, the sleepovers with homemade face masks, the phone calls from his hotel rooms.

Now you're texting him.

You: you awake?

________

Mingyu sits at home on the couch, beer in hand as the TV flashes in front of him. He's watching a movie he's got no real interest in, but he can't sleep. He's been home for a little more than a day and he's still got major jetlag ruining his sleep schedule.

No matter how hectic his life has been, he always dreads the jetlag.

The buzz of his phone captures his attention and he can't avoid the smile that pulls on his lips when he sees your name flash on the screen.

Mingyu: nah, sleeping

You giggle at your phone, smiling at the device just as he is. Your hands move a little slower to text back as the cool air outside changes your body temperature. You shiver, blowing on your hands as they grow cold.

You: call me

The message flashes delivered briefly before your screen changes entirely. You're surprised to see an incoming FaceTime and not a regular call.

You hold the phone up to your face, fixing your hair before you hit answer.

He lays on the couch in the living room, the darkness surrounding him heavily contrasts the colorful beams of light that flash behind you. The loud music thumps in the background.

"Hi." He smiles.

"Hi," You grin.

You feel giddy inside. Partially because you were drinking a bit and mostly because you're talking to him again. It's been quite some time since you've seen each other.

"Where are you?" He asks first.

You take a moment to respond as you walk toward the curb. You fix your dress and sit on the curb of the sidewalk, holding the phone up to your face.

"At the club," You reply.

"Ah, fun night I presume?" He asks.

You shake your head. "Not really."

"Sorry to hear that Shorty," He says.

Your heart skips a beat at the nickname. Your heart always leaps when he calls you that.

"Yeah, not really my thing anyway," You frown.

"I remember, surprised you're even there this late," He comments.

You smile. He remembers.

"Took some convincing from my friends. It wasn't so bad when we were drinking earlier, but then it started to hit and I wasn't feeling it anymore," You say, chipping away at the white nail polish on your fingers.

"They didn't abandon you, did they?" He asks, voice laced with concern.

"Who? My friends? No, they were looking out for me but I just wasn't feeling it anymore so I told them I was stepping outside for a minute," You continue to chip away at the polish mindlessly.

"I don't like you being alone like that, especially if you've been drinking," He frowns.

"I'm okay, I promise..." You assure him. "I wanna see you though."

A boyish smile forms on his face. "Yeah?"

You nod. "You home?"

"Yeah, come over," He offers. "I'll get you something to eat and you can spend the night."

Your ears perk up from his words. Your heart jumps out of your chest in anticipation.

"Okay, I'll order a–"

"–Text me what club you're at," he interrupts. "I'll get you an Uber here."

______

You call another one of your friends while you wait. You’re surprised she picks up on the second ring. “HELLO?” she shouts into the phone.

“Hey love,” You say.

“Y/N WHERE DID YOU GO?? The hot guy you were talking to is still here, I thought you went home with him.”

The loud music thumps in the background, but you can surprisingly hear her clearly.

You shake your head. “I’m heading home, I’ll see you guys later.”

Of course, the terms of your NDA don’t allow you to tell them where you’re really going. You make up an excuse about not feeling well and she pouts.

“Aw but we were– Hana NO!” She interrupts herself and the line goes silent for a few moments.

You hear shifting and wait to hear her voice again.

“Sorry, we’re in the bathroom and Hana started throwing up. She’s fine now. You feel better though, and text one of us when you get home. Stay safe babes.”

“Okay, I will.”

Before you can hang up, she’s calling out to the other girls. “GUYS, Y/N IS GOING HOME.”

More shuffling suddenly fills your ears and female voice.

“Nooooo, don’t leave,” Hana drunkenly slurs.

You laugh. “I’ll go out with you guys again next weekend.”

After a little bit more drunken banter, you finally hang up and wait on the curb until your ride gets here.

____

Considering he's the one who ordered the Uber, you know he'll know exactly when you get there. So, you spend the entirety of the ride in the backseat fixing up your appearance.

You play with your hair, refresh your lip gloss, and adjust your appearance for the better.

When you arrive at the familiar home, your heart rate picks up and you open the door with shaky hands. You stand outside the car, purse in hand as you shut the door.

Just as you close the car door, his front door opens almost on cue. His full stature comes to your sight and your excitement bubbles over.

He leans against the door frame, grinning at you. He looks cozy, wearing a pair of grey sweatpants, a white wifebeater, and his glasses. Your knees nearly give out at the sight of him in his glasses. He looks so good. His muscular body is visible in the tee and you have to stop yourself from pouncing him.

His hair is definitely shorter than the last time you saw him. And it's been well, months since you've seen him. Two? Maybe even three? But that doesn't matter, what matters is that you're here with him now.

You try not to express how excited you are, but you just can't wipe the smile off your face. You walk toward him and he invites you in with open arms.

His strong arms wrap around your frame. You're so happy you could cry. Your arms wrap around him, squeezing his frame. You inhale, breathing in his scent. He smells like home. His touch is so comforting, this moment feels unreal. You hold him and appreciate him for everything he is.

He pulls away, looking down at you with a grin. He presses a kiss to your forehead. "Hi, Shorty."

You grin up at him, bringing your hands to his hair. You run your fingers through it. "You cut it."

He nods. "Couple days ago yeah, you don't like it?"

"I always like it," You tell him truthfully. "But it was a little sexier when it was long."

He pulls you all the way inside, closing the door and locking it. "I'll tell management to let me grow it back out just for you."

"Doubt they'll see me as reason enough for that," You say.

"They'll just have to deal with it," He runs a hand through his hair. "I'll never let scissors touch my hair again if you say so."

Oh my gosh. You hate him.

You hate how he makes your heart skip a beat and he somehow always knows all the right things to say to you.

You giggle. "I wouldn't ask you to do that, Gyu."

"You'd still like me if I was bald?" He asks.

"Yeah Gyu, I would." You admit.

"Oh wow" He has a boyish grin on his face. "You like-like me."

"Yeah well, you like-like me too," You remind him.

"Damn right I do, Shorty," He pulls you in by your waist. "Don't know why you're so far away."

You squeal when your body moves against his. "I'm still wearing my shoes! I need to take them off."

"Relax Shorty," He lifts you up effortlessly, placing you on the kitchen counter.

He drops down, undoing your heels and placing them on the mat next to his front door. He stands back up to his full stature, face mere inches above yours.

He leans in. "I missed you."

You look up at him with soft eyes. There's so much yearning behind your pupils, that it makes you wonder if he can see through to it.

"I missed you too," You admit.

You find yourself back hin his arms. His big hands circle your waist, pressing your chests together. But now, his lips are on yours.

The kiss is soft, just delicate enough to express how much he missed you. Your small hand cups his cheek as your lips move against one another. His touches are gentle, but they spark so many things inside you, igniting you from the inside out.

But your moment is cut short when your growling stomach interrupts.

You pull away just a little bit, brushing your nose against his, giggling to yourself. He lets out a genuine laugh, holding your hand in his. "I did promise you food, didn't I?"

You nod. "I believe you did."

He helps you off the counter and back onto your feet. He walks over to the pantry.

"Sorry to get your hopes up," He admits sheepishly. "I just got back so... there's not much."

"Oh that's okay, it can't be–"

You open the fridge, finding virtually nothing. Some milk, A couple water bottles, half a carton of eggs, a few bottles of liquor, and a can of half-eaten kimchi.

You wedge your way in front of him, looking into the pantry and it's somehow worse. There's only stuff that needs to actually be cooked, and there's not much of it.

You fall dramatically into his chest and he laughs. "I told you there wasn't much."

His hand touches your lower back as you sink your face into his chest. This time, it feels right.

"Why did you even offer me food if you didn't have any?!" You exclaim.

He holds your head in his hands, cupping both of your cheeks. "I don't know, I guess I forgot Shorty. You do that to me."

While his words are making your stomach turn, the hunger rumbling is a lot louder. "Is the milk in the fridge even good?"

"Yeah, I just bought it today." He says casually.

"You went out and bought milk... and nothing else? Knowing you had no food?" You question.

"I needed it to go with my cereal," He shrugs. "But that's not important. Look, there's some rice in here."

He grabs the uncooked rice out of the pantry. "I can make you some fried rice with egg and kimchi. I've got soy sauce somewhere around here."

"No I think I'll just take some cereal," You walk out of his grasp, making your way toward the fridge.

He pouts. "I can cook for you though."

"I'll take you up on that offer another time," You tap his cheek with your palm lightly. "I'm very hungry. And you've got no vegetable to go with, not even a green onion. I'm getting some cereal."

You open the fridge, grabbing the milk while he gets the bowls and spoons. You try to grab the cereal box from above the fridge, but you can't quite reach it. Mingyu comes up behind you, grabbing it with ease and a shit-eating grin on his face.

You frown, but you're too hungry to make any comments. The two of you sit at the table, each pouring yourselves a bowl of cereal. "You said you just got back?" You ask.

He nods. "Like two days ago, I think. My sense of time is a little messed up, jetlag."

You nod in acknowledgment. He continues to tell you about the past few months since he's seen you. You play friends catching up as he answers all your questions about his life as of recent. The shows, the photoshoots, all the traveling, filming, and preparations for the upcoming months as well.

He asks you about work too, although your updates are not nearly as interesting as his though. But he doesn't ask out of courtesy, he genuinely cares. He likes hearing about your life, likes just listening to you speak even if you're not the one doing Calvin Klein photoshoots.

The time flies, and before you know it, it's 3 in the morning. You always find yourself invested in him when you're together, like the world around you ceases to exist. You get caught up, failing to realize that time is indeed still passing, and a lot of it.

He pulls you in by your hips, pressing your back onto his chest.He pulls the bowls and utensils out of your hands swiftly and turns you around.

"Nope, don't worry about that," he drops them into the sink. "You just go hop in the shower, I'll give you one of my t-shirts."

"Are you saying I stink?" You accuse him playfully.

"Never, Shorty." He kisses your cheek. "As much as I love this little dress on you, it's getting late and you should be in something comfy. Now go." He playfully taps your butt, sending you to the bathroom.

You look back at him, feigning offense as he grins.

______

When you step out of the bathroom and into his bedroom, there's a t-shirt laid out for you with a pair of boxers. You get dressed before walking down to the living room.

Mingyu lays there, scrolling through his phone. When he hears you enter, his attention shifts to you immediately and he gives you a warm smile.

He sits up all the way and pulls you onto his lap so you're straddling him. "Thank you, for letting me using the shower and for the food."

He holds you close to him. "Of course Shorty

"Where are your clothes?" He asks.

"Folded on the dresser in your room, why?" You ask.

He pulls you off his lap and stands to his feet. "Wanna wash them so you can have them tomorrow. Are they washer and dryer safe?"

"Yeah, but you don't have to worry about it." You assure him.

"Don't worry about it, I have clothes I need to was anyway. I'll just through yours in with them," he says.

He disappears up into his room and when he emerges, he's holding a basket of clothes and your dress on top. He walks down and walks over to you on the couch.

"That's all you had? Just the dress and the panties? No bra?" He asks.

You grin. "Nope."

He inhales sharply, but pushes his thoughts aside. "Come with."

You follow behind him downstairs. He leads you to the laundry room in the basement.

You sit on the dryer as he loads the washing machine. There's a comfortable silence in the atmosphere. Everything about this is so comforting... so domestic. It's exactly what you needed.

"Hand me that?" he says, pointing to the detergent behind you. "Please?"

You grab the detergent, handing it to him. "Thank you, Shorty."

After he's done with it, he hands it back to you and adjusts the settings before starting up the machine.

"Ready for bed?" He asks.

You nod, reaching your arms out to him. He turns around, lifting you off the machine and piggybacking you all the way up to his bedroom. He drops your body on his plush mattress and strips down to just his boxers. He places his glasses on his dresser gently. Immediately after, he climbs under the covers. You join him, making yourself comfortable in his bed.

He pulls your body against his, yearning to have you close to him. He looks at you with a softness in his eyes. His hand runs along your thigh gently and innocently.

But right now, close doesn't feel close enough. You've missed him so much, you want to feel consumed by him. You need him inside of you.

You press your forehead against his, look at him with soft, sultry eyes. His hands start to wander, moving from your thighs to your butt.

Almost simultaneously, you pick up on one another's energy. The sexual tension grows and pretty soon his lips are on yours again. You moan softly against his lips.

He brings his hand to your cheek, cupping it softly as your lips move against his in perfect harmony. He takes everything you give and vice versa,perfectly in sync.

Pretty soon, you're itching to get undressed even though his clothes are extremely comfortable. You're eager for more of him, pulling away from the kiss.

"Gyu," You breathe out.

"I know baby, fuck–I know," He pulls you onto his lap so you're straddling him once again.

He lifts your hips enough to pull his boxers off of your body. The t-shirt you're narrowing is next to go, leaving you completely naked on his lap.

"Fuck," He whispers. "You're so pretty, Shorty. Need you so bad."

You lean over, leaving a trail of kisses on his neck. You know better than to leave marks, but you grind down against him slowly. He lets out a shaky breath, holding your hips as you move against him. "Mm-fuck."

His cock grows stiff beneath you, poking against your bare core. You grind down harder, feeling the veins of his cock against your clit through his boxers. "Feels good, Gyu.." You moan.

You chase the friction selfishly. You know you could cum like this, and with how good it feels, you're not entirely against it. But his hand comes in between the two of you, pressing against your pussy to feel how wet you are.

"Fuck, Shorty you're soaking..." he groans.

You can only nod in agreement as the pads of his fingers graze your clit. You're dripping on his fingers, so much so that he could easily slip–

"–You want my fingers?"

Fuck, he knows you so well.

You nod eagerly. He pinches your clit, making you yelp.

"Use your words baby."

You mewl. "Yes, fuck yes, please."

He lifts your body, flipping you over so you're underneath him. He holds himself up with his arm, hovering over you as he slips two fingers into you with ease.

Even though it's just his fingers, he can feel how tight you are. Your cunt stretches around his digits as he pumps them into you. You moan out, feeling the way the pleasure builds in your lower region.

His fingers are so skilled and he knows your body well. He knows that when he curls his finger, you're gonna squeeze your legs together and cry out.

Which is exactly what you do when he curls his fingers inside of you. He pries your legs back open, picking up the pace of his fingers as you moan out loud. "Ah fuck–nngh."

His cock twitches in anticipation as he pleasures you. He's not focused on it right now, but your pleasure is his pleasure.

"Shit–I'm gonna cum," You warn him, gripping his bicep.

He grins, teasing you with his words. "Already, Shorty?"

You breathe out, pushing your hips against his hands. "Fuck– 's been a while.

Oh?

His digits press against the sweet spot deep inside of you and you arch your back up off the bed and cry out. "You don't touch yourself when I'm not here, Shorty?"

"Not enough–ah!" You moan. "Can't cum."

You know you'd never admit this if you weren't drinking earlier or on the brink of an orgasm. But your words affect him more than he lets it show.

He's ruined you.

That means you haven't slept with anyone since he last saw you. And to top it off, you can't get yourself off without his help. A sense of pride fills his chest and only encourages him to go faster, pushing you over the edge.

Although, the same can't be said for him. The pride in his chest is pinched by a small twinging of guilt.

It's not something you really talk about with each other. You know it happens, but you choose not to acknowledge it. As much as it feels like it when you're together, you're not together. It's been nearly three years since your relationship, if you can even call it that, came to fruition.

But with him constantly busy and on the move, you've spent a small fraction of those three years in each other's presence. When he's not with you, he's performing and traveling the world. He catches the attention of plenty of other pretty girls who are more than willing to sign an NDA to spend the night with him.

He's just a man after all. And a famous one who constantly travels at that. He's got needs of his own and the means to fulfill them.

He's someone you trust. You know he'd never catch something and risk bringing it to you. He's too careful, has too much at stake with his career.

But those thoughts only cloud his mind, and for a brief moment at that. With you underneath him, writhing and gasping for air as you cum on his fingers, his attention is fully on you.

He pins your body on on the bed, adding more pressure as you grip his bicep. You nails dig into his skin, sure to leave marks. He doesn't mind though, not when you cry out his name and screw your eyes shut in pleasure.

Your hips move on their own, grinding against his fingers as you ride out your orgasm. "Shit, Shorty... that's it, yeah."

It takes a moment for you to come down. When you do, you blink your eyes open, loosening your grip on his bicep. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, warm breath fanning against your neck. His fingers slip out of you slowly and you whine as the loss of touch.

His hard length presses against your thigh, making it very known how badly he needs you. You think about pushing him down on the bed and sucking him dry, but you'd much rather have him inside of you.

You press a hand on his chest gently, pointer finger lightly dragging on his skin. "Mmm, that was so good, Gyu."

"Yeah?" He lifts his head up.

You bite your lip seductively and nod softly. "Yeah... want you to fuck me now, though."

He licks his lips slowly. "Want it, or need it?"

"Need it, need it so fucking bad, Gyu" You pull at the material of his boxers. You're so needy. He can hear it in your voice and it's clear in your actions. He wants to give you everything and more.

He presses his hips down against you and you help him to pull of his boxers. You wrap your hand around his cock and start pumping him slowly. He lets out a breath of relief.

His cock is hard and heavy in your hand. It's pulsing and aching to be touched. He inhales sharply when you circle your thumb around the tip, smearing his precum around.

You love it when he's sensitive like this, so reactive. It reminds you that you have just as much of an effect on him as he does on you. You continue to pump him, and he reaches into the drawer of his nightstand and pulls out a gold package.

You snatch the condom out of his hand. "I wanna do it."

He grins. "Okay, Shorty."

You tear open the packaging with your teeth.

"You know, you shouldn't do that," He warns you. "Could accidentally puncture a hole in it. Wouldn't want another pregnancy scare would we?"

You toss the gold wrapper onto the nightstand. "First of all, you use your teeth every time we do this. Second of all, you used your teeth to open the condom the time we had to scare." You remind him.

He smirks. "I learn from my mistakes, baby."

You ignore him, rolling the condom onto his length and laying on your back. He hovers over you again, stroking his cock a few times before lining himself up with your entrance.

When he enters you, the stretch is immaculate. You both breathe out, moaning as he bottoms out inside of you. He sinks further into you, deep into your warmth and you stretch to accommodate him perfectly.

"Fuck... Gyu," You moan out, wrapping your arms around his muscular back.

"Shorty... fuck me–" He groans. You breathe out, wrapping your legs around his waist, pushing your hips up into him. You move in perfect sync as his hips drive into yours. His neck nearly goes limp as his head dips down. "Yeah, Shorty–just like that–uh. Fuck, you're so hot, baby."

"Mingyu–" You moan out. "I missed you so much... so fucking much."

His hips snap back, his cock thrusting deep into you. "Missed you too, missed everything about you."

His thrusts slow down, but they don't stop. He taps the side of your thigh, silently telling you to unwrap your legs around around him. You oblige, and he lifts your legs up.

He drives his cock deeper into you, bringing your legs over his shoulders. You gasp out at the sudden stretch and wave of pleasure that hits you.

The pure force of his thrusts, how good he feels as the pain turns into pleasure into pleasure, the noises he makes – it's overwhelming in the best way possible. It's so much, but it's so good, you don’t want him to ever stop. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan as your breath catches in your throat. You eyes fall shut as your face scrunches in pleasure before the sensation courses through through you and you can hardly take it. Your hands grip the sheets tightly.

"Fuck... pussy's so good," He groans. " 'S all mine."

"Hah-fuck," You cry out.

"Tell me it's mine, baby," He demands. "C'mon Shorty."

Your eyes fall shut and your breathe in through your nose as his cock pushes deeper into you. Your voice is broken and soft. "It's all yours–"

He thrusts into you particularly hard. "Say it again–louder."

"Fuck! It's all yours."

It's a lie, somewhat. Everything between you two is complicated, yet simple. But in moments like these, you don't focus on the small details or realities.

"That's what I fucking thought," He groans.

You whimper, pussy fluttering around him. A telltale sign that you're close to the edge. His pace doesn't falter, and he continues to fuck you as your orgasm courses through your body.

Your body spasms beneath him, writhing to escape the overwhelming pleasure. He doesn't let you though, pinning your body down as he continues to drive his cock deep inside of you.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck–uh!" You cry out. Tears are brimming the corners of your eyes.

Your pussy tightens around him, convulsing as you cum for the second time tonight. He watches as your face twists and contorts with pleasure, a sight that remains forever etched in his memory.

You're still coming down while he's fucking you, grunting and groaning with each thrust of his hips. There's sweat dripping down his body, causing his skin to glisten in the moonlight.

Your mind is hazy, still struggling to process all the pleasure you're body is enduring. You're growing overstimulated, but you can tell he's getting close.

His hips lose their rhythm, thrusts growing erratic and uncoordinated as your pussy milks him. He lets out a long groan, cursing out your name as he spills his load into the rubber.

His chest rises and falls rapidly as he sits up. He presses a kiss to your ankle before pulling out of you and allowing your feet to touch the bed.

His body is spent, and the soft look in your eyes relaxes him. It makes him feel blissful and at ease, it makes the sleepiness creep its way into his body.

You wrap your arms around his neck softly pulling his face toward yours. "All good?"

"Fuckin perfect," he sighs with a smile.

He's too close and too tempting not to kiss. So you do, softly pressing your lips against one another. The feeling in your heart is overwhelming. You don't know that he feels it too, two hearts moving rapidly yet somehow in perfect sync.

It's moments like these where there's a conundrum of things weighing heavily on your mind that you want to express or say out loud, but you don't. You know better than that, and so does he.

So a kiss will have to do. To speak the words that will remain unspoken and seal it closed. A silent way to express the thoughts that run through your brains and the emotions that are pouring out of your hearts.

So you kiss him, because that's all you can do for now. While he's still here, while he's still yours.

___

After you two clean up, you climb back into the bed. You face each other, laying on your sides.

His eyes are closed, but he's not fully encaptured by his slumber. He's halfway there though, pouting in his state of rest with a soft expression. He looks so peaceful, so cute. Such a contrast to the man who had your legs thrown over his shoulders only minutes prior.

You press your hand onto his hair, pushing it back ever so lightly as you admire his features. You see the smile tugging at his lips. "Go to sleep, Shorty."

His eyes don't open as he speaks to you.

"Sorry," You say sheepishly. I was just admiring."

"Cute, you can admire in the morning though. Go to sleep, baby."

You nod, although he can't see you, and exhale softly. You adjust the comforter and his eyes blink open slowly.

"I'll make you breakfast in the morning," he offers, pressing a kiss onto your forehead.

You hum, smiling to yourself. "lemme guess, cereal?"

A breathy laugh escapes his lips. "Alright, I'll take you out for breakfast, or we can order in if you can't walk."

You punch his shoulder playfully before burying your face against his chest. You fall asleep in his arms peacefully.

_______________________________________________

© number1mingyustan - Do not repost without permission.

[luviisabella]

mind games ۶ৎBNHA UNI.AU

-> katsuki bakugou 🩷

You had him wrapped around your finger.

It started with you two being assigned the same patrol areas, at first in larger groups but eventually it was just the two of you.

He would mumble under his breath but you knew he was more than happy to be paired with you and not one of the other guys.

Per usual, you two were assigned to Shinjuku City for the night. You were surprised reading the chart because usually you had day shifts and before you could question it your thoughts were already answered.

“Mina and Kirishima called out sick, they were supposed to cover the afternoon so they gave it to us”

Bakugou came up next to you scanning the board for anything else you may have missed and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Sick ?” and deep down you knew exactly what that meant, you made a mental note to call her for details later.

—

Once it was 7pm you and Bakugou decided to start heading over. Both of you had a brief conversation with your boss, the lookout was for a guy with what sounds like an interesting quirk who’s been dealing for the LOV.

As the two of you walked down the busy streets you admired the night life. It wasn’t often you went out or saw pretty areas such as this, not unless you were assigned.

Bakugou looked over and scoffed when he saw your eyes wandering in every direction at once.

“We should get something while we’re here”

He looked over at you in surprise.

“What ? We technically don’t start until 9 and are here until 1am so we might as well look around. Maybe we’ll even find him where we least expect it”

He didn’t want to admit it, but it wasn’t a bad idea. Besides.. it meant he could spend more time with you.

You two walked into multiple stores, looking at clothes, jewelry, shoes, and even snacks.

After about an hour you both decided to sit on top of a building and just admire the view.

It was convenient you both had flight quirks, but it wasn’t uncommon to catch you two on a building like this.

If you’re being honest it also helps you scan the crowd from an unexpected distance. Easier to spot who you’re looking for.

You two were both eating mochi, yours was pink and his was orange (the irony), and as the clouds moved to reveal the moon, you couldn’t help but realize how pretty he was.

You stared at him in awe of his looks, you always knew he was good looking, but my God.

“Weird ass” despite looking down he noticed you staring

You frowned, you ignored his words, you just wanted to get a better look.. so you reached over and grabbed the side of his face to turn it towards you.

“The fuck’s your.. problem…” and while he wanted to be mad, he ended up silent.

The look you were giving him sent his heart into shock and your touch was so delicate. He’s never felt anything like that and while he might struggle to admit it, you’re the only one he’d ever let do this.

You softly smile at him, “You do have pretty eyes” and you couldn’t help but fight back a laugh when you felt his face heat up.

He moved his head back, looking back down and trying not to acknowledge what just happened. “Your hands are sticky.” they weren’t, he just didn’t know how to react, let alone say “Don’t let go”.

Despite his ‘cold’ attitude, you knew how he felt, but you were waiting for him to admit it first.

You also looked down and while admiring the view again you noticed something.

“That’s him.” pointing towards the very obvious spot, that ironically being the top of another smaller building.

You stood up and looked over at Bakugo who was already on his feet. No words were set before you both took off.

You both caught him off guard because from the looks of it he was in the midst of a drug exchange, but something didn’t feel right. You had a vague description of the guys quirk and when the villain revealed his hand that’s when you realized.

Past heroes or people that tried stopping him were either in the hospital on meds for temporary paralysis, fever, or were thankfully recovering. It wasn’t injuries, his quirk was venom. That’s why your boss told you to look out for any cuts, bruises, etc. on his body, because he’s been transferring his blood into bullets and using it on heroes.

The villain looked as if he was aiming at you but judging by the smile on his face he knew you caught on and quickly turned to Bakugou.

In a panick you immediately ran to cover him, barely making it in time before the bullet hit your upper arm.

You cursed before looking over, trying to minimize losing sight of the villain but he was already making a run for it.

“We have to-“ shit..

..his quirk. You took a weak step forward before falling to the floor.

“Y/n !” He was internally cursing himself out, by the time you figured out his quirk he did too and was reaching towards the guy before he turned to him.

Bakugou reached down to pick you up, letting your head rest on his bicep as he was talking to you. Except, his words weren’t clear, you could only hear what sounded like a faint voice.

“I can’t move” you were fighting back the pain coursing through your body. It felt like every limb was being compressed and your senses were all blocked. You couldn’t even lift your finger, slowly every muscle in your body began to go numb.

Your nervous system was slowing down.

You were going in and out of consciousness, you could see him calling for backup and when you blinked again he was now looking down at you. The same eyes you thought were so pretty moments ago now looking down at you with fear.

He held you just a little tighter, afraid if he let go you’d fall apart.

“Come on, stay with me… please.”

part two ?

made by luviisabella۶ৎ

[mahalachives]

Not sure if you’re still taking requests, but how about Az with a reader who has a tendency to hurt herself yet never realizes it until someone points it out?

I am constantly cutting myself and I never feel it - I swear the phrase “Are you okay? You’re bleeding!” Is one I hear at work weekly lol

Title: How to Alarm a Shadowsinger in Three Accidental Steps

pairing: azrial x human mate (fem!reader)

genre: flulf

The scent hit Azriel before he even entered the townhouse kitchen—blood. Your blood.

He was moving before he registered the thought, shadows whipping around him as he materialized in the doorway. His hazel eyes scanned the room with predatory precision, daggers already in hand.

What he found was you, humming contentedly while chopping vegetables for dinner, completely oblivious to the thin line of red trailing down your forearm.

"You're bleeding," he said, his deep voice so sudden in the quiet kitchen that you jumped, the knife clattering to the cutting board.

"Mother above, Az!" You pressed a hand to your chest. "Make some noise when you move, would you?"

He didn't smile, though the corners of his scarred hands tightened around Truth-Teller. "You're bleeding," he repeated, nodding toward your arm.

You glanced down, eyebrows rising in surprise. "Oh. Look at that." You examined the shallow cut with mild interest, as though observing a slightly unusual cloud formation. "Must've nicked myself with the knife."

Azriel's shadows retreated slightly as he realized there was no actual threat, but his concerned expression remained. With a silent sigh, he sheathed Truth-Teller and crossed to where you stood.

"This is the third time this week," he murmured, taking your wrist in his scarred hand. His touch was gentle—always so gentle with you—as he guided you to the sink.

"Is it really?" You tried to remember. "There was the thing with the book yesterday—"

"The paper cut that bled all over the library carpet," he confirmed, his deep voice tinged with exasperation as he ran cool water over your cut.

"And..."

"The splinter from the dock at the Sidra two days ago." Az's shadows curled around your joined hands, as though they too were concerned. "The one you didn't notice until Cassian pointed out you were leaving bloody footprints."

You had the decency to look embarrassed. "In my defense, we were having a very engaging conversation about battle tactics."

"And now this." He patted your arm dry with a clean towel, his movements methodical and practiced. It wasn't the first time he'd tended to your accidental wounds, and you both knew it wouldn't be the last.

"It doesn't even hurt," you protested.

"It never does, until later." Azriel guided you to sit at the kitchen table, where a small medical kit had appeared. You'd never seen him retrieve it. Shadows, probably.

As he began cleaning the cut with practiced efficiency, you noticed the tightness around his eyes, the subtle clench of his jaw. Your shadowsinger was worried, though he'd never admit it.

"I'm not actually made of glass, you know," you said softly, hoping to ease that look from his face.

Az's hazel eyes flicked up to meet yours. "Glass would be better. Glass makes noise when it breaks."

You couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up. "Did you just make a joke, spymaster?"

The barest hint of a smile touched his lips as he wrapped a bandage around your forearm. "It's not a joke when it's true, love."

"Well, lucky for me I have a shadowsinger who can smell a single drop of blood from across Velaris."

That earned you another almost-smile. "Apparently that's a necessary skill when you're involved."

His shadows curled closer, whispering something in his ear that made color touch his cheekbones. After five decades together, you still loved that you could make this ancient, deadly warrior blush.

"What are they saying now?" you asked, nodding toward the shadows.

Az finished securing your bandage, but didn't release your hand. "They're suggesting I assign one of them to follow you permanently, to alert me the moment you injure yourself."

"Oh, now that's just excessive—"

"I'm considering it."

You narrowed your eyes at him, but the effect was ruined by your smile. "You wouldn't dare."

His scarred thumb traced gentle circles on your palm. "You cut yourself chopping carrots, love. Soft, yielding carrots."

"They were being very uncooperative carrots."

One shadow detached from the others, sliding up your newly bandaged arm to curl around your wrist like a bracelet. It was cool but not unpleasant, a familiar sensation after all these years.

"Az," you warned, though there was no heat in it.

"It's just until dinner," he said, rising to his feet. "I'll finish the chopping."

As he turned back to the cutting board, you heard him murmur to the shadow, "Alert me if she so much as touches anything sharper than a spoon."

"I can hear you, you know."

Azriel's shoulders shook with silent laughter. "Good."

The shadow around your wrist squeezed gently, almost affectionately. You'd long ago stopped being unnerved by them; now they were simply extensions of Az himself—protective, vigilant, and surprisingly tender when it came to you.

"I don't need a babysitter," you said, but made no move to dislodge the shadow.

Az glanced over his shoulder, a rare full smile gracing his handsome face. "After fifty years, five hundred and twenty-three bandages, and one memorable incident with a teacup that somehow left you needing stitches, I think I'm entitled to a little caution."

"You've been counting?"

"Shadowsingers never reveal their methods." He resumed chopping with efficient grace.

You watched him work, this deadly warrior now wielding a kitchen knife with the same precision he showed on the battlefield. The shadow around your wrist pulsed gently in time with Az's heartbeat.

"I love you," you said suddenly, because sometimes the sight of him still took your breath away, even after all this time.

Az paused, his shoulders softening. Without turning, he replied, "I love you too. Please try not to bleed on dinner."

Your laughter filled the kitchen, bright against his shadows. The perfect balance, as always.

Later that night, when you somehow managed to cut your finger on a book while reading in bed, Azriel's exasperated sigh was followed by such a tender kiss to your palm that you almost—almost—felt bad for being so accident-prone.

Almost.

End.

[karmicmortal]

content warnings mean dom!heeseung, extremely mean, slapping (pussy and face), degradation, spitting, orgasm denial

don’t like it? don’t read it!

notes this drabble was originally posted to istjisung. i am istjisung. if you see my drabbles posted on any account other than istjisung or karmicmortal, or the ao3 accounts of the same name, that is not me.

“are you even listening to me?” heeseung asks, noticing the way your eyes have glazed over and you’re looking at anything but his face, which is a telltale sign that your mind is anywhere but in this conversation. “you’re not paying attention.”

little did he know, you were paying attention. to the conversation? no. to him? absolutely. more specifically, his hands. the way he fidgets as he talks, how long his fingers are and the way his veins make an appearance when he moved his hands a specific way. his hands are so manly, so sexy, so pleasurable. they could reach places inside of you that you could only dream of.

and all you could think about was having them in you. touching you in some way.

you didn’t think heeseung would be so mean when he did finally touch you.

your boyfriend finally realized that you couldn’t focus on the conversation, and thankfully, he wasn’t talking about anything important. but it still made him upset that you couldn’t listen for five minutes until he was done telling you the newest information that he’d found out about one of his biggest interests.

now he had you spread out in front of him, his eyes narrowed in annoyance (partly clouded by arousal), anticipating his next move. his cheeks puffed up cutely, greatly contrasting his actions.

he lands one, two, three harsh smacks to your pussy, making you jolt in place and cry out. his long, slender fingers slide through your folds and he pushes two inside of you without warning. he quickly thrusts his fingers inside of you, not giving you any time to adjust to the sudden intrusion. your back arches as he rapidly builds you orgasm up—something he knew how to do with ease these days—before he completely pulled his fingers out, leaving you to clench around nothing and whine at the loss of touch.

“isn’t this what you wanted?” you didn’t answer, trying to catch your breath. this wasn’t the answer heeseung wanted; his hand shoots up to connect with your face, throwing your head to the side. “answer me. isn’t this what you wanted?”

“n-no…” your voice was weak.

heeseung smirks. “i think it was. you kept looking at my hands, and i’m using them on you now, aren’t i?” he smacks your face again, your eyes going wide as you moan at the stinging sensation. “oh, look at you. moaning like a slut from being treated like nothing but a whore.”

you can’t deny the way you feel yourself get wetter.

he cuffed your face a few more times, reveling in the noises you make each time. some gasps, some moans and whines. you were sure your face was flushed, heat rushing to the spots where heeseung repeatedly struck. he delivers one last slap before squeezing your face, forcing your mouth open. he gathers his saliva at the tip of his tongue, spitting directly into your open mouth and splattering over your chin.

“swallow it.” the harsh tone he used causes you to obey, immediately closing your mouth and swallowing his saliva. right as you do, however, heeseung once again plunges his fingers into your sopping cunt, making you choke on nothing in the middle of swallowing. he chuckles at this as he begins to repeat the process all over again. build your orgasm up, pull his fingers out, smack your clit or your face, call you names that twist your stomach in arousal, rinse and repeat.

you like it, love it even, but who’s to say heeseung would care even if you didn’t?

[paetalks]

tw: smoking!

imagine being a cute girl in her twenties, living in a big city while finishing up your degree, and getting introduced to ryomen sukuna by one of your friends. you are on a night out at your usual bar downtown and you do vaguely remember your friend telling you something along the lines of “i’m bringing my coworker with us tonight”, but remember also shrugging it off with very little interest. and now there is this guy in front of you, tattooed and and big shoulders, with an annoyed face as if he didn’t really wanted to be there.

“when you said something about bringing a colleague i thought you meant a fun one” you tease your friend, brushing you hand on his shoulder and giggling. sukuna’s eyes dart up as you introduce yourself, smelling the alcol on your breath from the drinks you already had. you look hot, with a low cut top and hair up in a messy bun, pointing at all your friends and introducing them to him as well. there’s about a dozen of y’all, it looks like a big but close friend group, but he really could not care less.

while seating down and shaking a couple of hands here and there, his eyes are only fixated on you, sitting on the other side of the table. the light is dim and your laugh is loud, capturing him even from afar. next to him, his colleague is saying something to another guy with black hair about work, so he could chime in the conversation, but his attention is onto you.

and you can feel him staring, your skin burning under his gaze, as if watching your every moves. your stomach feels weird about it and nobody else seems to notice how his eyes are carving holes in your face, your chest and your hands. you wonder if maybe there is something wrong with what you’re saying, or maybe wearing, but the more you think about it the more your stomach entangles. “i’m going outside for a smoke” you quickly blurt out, getting up and grabbing your jacket in a hurry. it’s like his staring has knocked air out of your lungs.

while you march towards the door, leaving your wondering friends behind, you feel footsteps following you. reaching the handles, you quickly open it and look back. he has followed you out there.

“oh my god.” you whisper, while the tattooed man pulls out a cigarette pack and calmly hands it to you, while grabbing one for himself. looking at his offer and even considering it, you shake your head and take out your own. while lighting his one up, he gestures to yours, but you quickly and almost comically show him the pink lighter in your hand. he nods, but doesn’t say anything.

it’s just when his eyes finally look away, glaring at the starless sky, that you finally blurt out “why are you staring at me?”. he laughs again. “why not?” he asks back “you’re nice to look at”.

“wow”, your words let smoke out of your mouth “that’s the compliment, i guess”. looking at the people walking by, you wonder who this guy is and why does everything he say makes your inside feel like jelly.

his voice is deep and slow, his eyes have something about them that you cannot quite pinpoint and his body looks sculpted. you realize, at this point, that he is a very good looking guy and your cheeks flush involuntarily.

“are you embarrassed by it?” he asks, noticing your redness, a cloud of smoke coming out his nostrils. “no”, you say, standing straight. a faint smile forms on his lips when looking at you again, and there is something in the way you move closer to him, throwing away your cigarette meanwhile, that lights a fire in his chest. your skin looks ethereal in the street light and your plump lips are slightly open. he finds himself wondering how they would feel on his body.

“move” you command, since he is in your way to the door, just standing there, dozed off. he is not, actually, dozed off, just thinking about how to subtly ask his coworker and friend for your number without sounding like a total jerk. you are standing so close now and he hasn’t even finished his smoke, so he nudges at the cig and smirks “at least let me finish properly.”

but when your cold fingers reach for his hand, grab the cigarette and put it in your own mouth, his heart starts beating too loud for his liking. you inhale slowly, letting it be consumed slowly by your lungs, and he watches you the whole time, not daring to blink once. when you reach the filter of the cigarette, you toss it on the side, smirking as well and saying “now you are all done. let me get inside”.

he moves out of the way in a second just to watch you walk by and he’s able to inhale of your perfume. it’s intoxicating, all flowery and sweet he could feel his head spin - but maybe it was just you, your presence, making him feel like that.

walking back in after another five minutes of thinking, he catches immediately a glimpse of you laughing at your friend, sitting at his seat at the table. he rolls his eyes, smiling and thinking something along the line of this is going to be fun.