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#they don’t want to write for female LI
griffinsboyfriend · 6 months
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Idc if it’s spoilers but as a VIP user I feel I have to say. With just 2 chapters of TDG: PB still doesn’t know how to manage multiple LI.
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aeyumicore · 1 month
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misty invasion - lost oasis
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━ .ᐟ✧ PAIRING: sylus x female reader (afab)
━ ✧.˖ GENRE: smut, porn with some/little plot, porn with feelings, angst
━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 4.5k
━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, spoilers AND alterations to ‘lost oasis’ (sylus’s misty invasion card), slight predator and prey, dom!sylus for the most part (though he shows vulnerability), use of Y/N, sub!reader but she teases doe, unprotected sex, cumming in coochie, against the wall sex, shower sex, hand play/kink, belly bulge, finger sucking, fingering, biting, slight angst, lots of hickeys (m! And f!receiving), allusions and predictions to sylus’s lore 
━ .ᐟ✧ LINKS: video | ao3 | twitter art | xav's version | raf's version | zayne's version
━ ✧.˖ A/N: hiii second part of the misty invasion series is here <3 this time our very own birb – sylus! Next will be Xavier but I don't have a timeline for it! Could be 3 days could be a week :’) will try and keep you guys updated
Small Sylus rant, feel free to skip this and read the fic!
I have huge problems with the hypersexualization of Sylus, from the devs not from fans. I feel like the devs sometimes use him as fan service. I felt that was especially true in this card, the shower scene felt out of place and didn’t feel intimate because they’ve done far too little mc/sylus building and sylus lore. I wished the ending scene in the hammock was the cut scene, even if there was no spice. For that reason, I’ve SLIGHTLY altered the dialogue and memory, especially at the end. I added in some of my own angst, heavily influenced by predictions to Sylus’s lore I’ve seen on Twitter, especially the twitter art i linked above.
Don’t get me wrong I love Sylus. I just wish we got to see MORE of his lore and backstory, because you just KNOW it's tragic. His myth cards were nothing like the other 3 boys, and I feel like they have a lot of opportunities to help Sylus “catch up” to the other 3 LIs (could’ve done a event similar to Rafayel’s bday event, waited until they could release more main story, etc), but they haven’t utilized it well. I’m sure there’s a reason why (rushed timeline, leak threats. End of the day I understand it’s a business), but as a reader/user/fan it kinda sucks. And again, I KNOW it’s coming and it will be great. But because we haven’t seen enough yet, it makes his spicy scenes seem less intimate and more fan service-y. So I wanted to add just a sprinkle of Sylus angst and story here <3 It made me cry, I hope you guys love it as much as I loved writing it. 
THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL NEVER POST MY FICS ON OTHER TUMBLR BLOGS. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND ON AO3.
✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ nsfw | minors dni | 18+ only | minors dni | nsfw ✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ .
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There are moments in life where it really hits you.
That you’re in danger. 
Where your hair stands up on its ends and your legs itch with the need to bolt away. This felt like one of those moments. The way Sylus’s voice, throaty and deep, growled with evident hunger, his eyes watching you like a predator eyeing its prey. 
Only…this time, the goosebumps that painted your skin were from excitement, and the throbbing in your thighs was from desire and not fear. This time, the tight grip on your thighs, the imposing body against yours, holding you so possessively, only leaves you wanting more. 
Sylus’s arm is pushed against the wall behind your head, caging you in with his hard soapy body. His skin shines with water and the leftover suds of his shower, before the water had run out, leaving you with a wet and mischievous Sylus.
Your fingers languidly follow soapy suds that trail down his chest, not really actually wiping anything away. Sylus remains self-assured, smirking down at your shaking body as you touch him. You can feel goosebumps form where you touch him and it’s the only indication that the silver-haired man is close to losing it. 
His voice comes out deep and breathy, “Aren’t you going to do something about my hair?”
His smile is maddening, taunting you to touch him more. So you wrap your hands behind his shoulders, yanking him down to you. 
For a brief second, Sylus is taken aback, his lips parting with a surprised breath. But as quickly as it had come, Sylus composes himself. He lets himself be pulled to you, chuckling breathily. 
“Is that it, sweetheart?” 
Before you can respond, his arm releases the wall behind you. In an instant, his large hand is gripping the underside of your thighs, hoisting you up with one arm so that both your legs dangle off his strong arm, pressed against his hip. 
You yelp at the feeling of his large hands holding you against his wet and hard body, “What are you doing?! My clothes!” You can feel your deep red satin nightdress soaking up the sudsy water on his skin.
Sylus only laughs, sarcastic and deep, “Oh no. They’re wet. Now what?” 
You try to push him away, “Well you need to let me down first.” 
But Sylus doesn’t budge, shifting you so he can lean his free arm against the wall behind you, caging you in once more. Like a lost bird. 
“Doesn’t this mean you also need to learn how to humble yourself?” His cerise eyes are frustratingly playful, his eyebrows crinkled in amusement. 
You don’t respond, instead trailing your hand down his bare chest again. Your feather-like touch ghosts his collarbone, down to his thick pecs, that tremble deliciously under your fingers. From the strain of holding you up with one arm, or your touch alone, you’re unsure. 
You speak softly, trying to tease him into losing control, “I did, and this is what I see…” 
Your touch and suggestive words have Sylus breathing heavier. His pants come out raspily, sounding vaguely close to a moan. He nearly shivers at your touch, so absolutely enamored by the way your fingers claim him, barely able to withstand his primal urges to claim you.
His reaction fuels you with confidence, and you grin cheekily, “Oh? I guess I’ll have to be more gentle.” You let your hands explore more, stroking his down his marbled chest. 
Sylus grunts, his face turning away from you, contorted in tortured pleasure. His breath comes out in rapid desperate gasps. It’s so utterly rare for you to see Sylus in such a needy state, and you can’t help but tease him further. 
Your fingers touch his neck, enjoying the way Sylus is crumbling under your fingertips when normally it’s you coming undone for him, “How cute.” 
When your fingernail grazes his nipple, Sylus tenses up, a growl ripping from his throat.
He turns to you, squirming under your fleeting touch. “Hey,” he croaks. His voice is uncharacteristically hoarse, tense with desire.
“The soundproofing for this shower isn’t great. People might get the wrong idea if they hear us. At this rate, we could end up in a lose-lose situation.” 
But you continue, pinching his ear softly, grinning, “Tell me, who pinned you down and hit you?” 
Sylus’s smile falters. He knows you’re referring to the little boy from earlier, whom you’d been teaching how to fight against Wanderers, but he can’t help but think about the first time he’d been here at the desert oasis. Only that time, he was powerless. That time, he couldn’t protect you.
He quickly masks his brief moment of melancholy, smirking at you once more, “Oh, so class isn’t over yet.” You want to prod at his sudden shift in demeanor, but you can tell now's not the time. You made a mental note to ask him about it later.
Sylus holds your wrist gently, bringing your fist to his lips. His mouth pressing fleeting kisses to your knuckles, “Then can I trouble you some more…Miss?” He doesn’t wait for you to answer, hoisting you back up onto his forearm, forcing you to wrap your arms around the back of his neck for balance. He carries you in one arm to the bathroom door, before he falters, hearing the patter of footsteps outside.
“On second thought, I’ll take my lesson in here.” He walks you back to the shower, shifting your legs so that they wrap around his hips. Your back is pressed against the wet wall, Sylus’s strong arms holding you in place. 
“What should you do…if a wanderer has you pinned down like this?” His voice is sultry and suggestive, darkened eyes daring you to teach him. 
You lift your chin proudly at his taunting challenge. Your fingers trace inexplicable shapes into his chest, your nails gently and purposefully grazing his nipples. At his sharp inhale you make your next move.
“I would…go for the neck, since that’s where they’re most vulnerable.”
Sylus’s adam’s apple bobs with the anticipation of your double-edged words, “Is that so, little bird?”
You nod with confidence, “Let me show you…” You kiss up his collarbone until you read his pulsing neck, brushing chaste kisses along his jugular. Sylus’s chest heaves, and you smile against his neck in satisfaction. 
“I can’t imagine this would be…effective against wanderers,” Sylus masks the unsteadiness of his wavering voice with a layer of arrogant amusement. 
Sylus’s chest heaves, and you smile against his neck in satisfaction. Enjoying having the upperhand, “No…just you.” You softly sink your teeth into the thick muscles of his neck.
Sylus lets out a string of harsh expletives, slamming you further into the wall, his grip on the underside of your thighs digging in harshly. You shiver at the feeling of the cold wet wall tiles pressing into your satin nightdress.
Sylus lets you have your way a little while longer, enjoying the way your rapid heartbeat pounds against his wet chest, your tongue lapping circles where your teeth had sunken in. His hands shift to grope your rear under your crimson red nightdress, squeezing the plush skin there as if you were his personal stress ball. His demanding fingers find their way to your bare pussy, spreading them apart with his index finger and thumb.
“What a bold hunter you are…taunting the enemy with no…protection.” 
His words are vaguely threatening and it makes you squirm. As his fingers toy with you, you sink your teeth deeper into him to hide your pathetically lewd whimpers. Sylus hisses at your teeth nearly breaking skin, a mix of pain and pleasure he is all-too familiar with.
“You’d better watch yourself, my little hunter,” Sylus coos in your ear, fingers finding your clit and pressing down harshly, “You never know what a beast stranded in the desert might do to you.”
His words remind you of the reason he’d invited you out to this desert oasis to begin with, the woman who’d found him, and why he was returning now. Before you can ask him, Sylus is bullying his index finger into you, sliding in so embarrassingly  effortlessly.
“What now, little dove? What would you do now?” Sylus nips at the crook of your neck, where your shoulder and throat meet. His words are hot and dangerous at the shell of your ear, his finger curling inside you to reach the spongy corners of your g-spot.
You force your words out with all the strength you have, not wanting to give Sylus the satisfaction of rendering you speechless, “I w-would never – nnghh – be in this s-situation.” 
Sylus chuckles, inserting another finger, “And yet…here you are. About to be devoured.”
The imminent threat in his words makes you clench, hard. How it was possible for the tables to turn this quickly, you’d never understand. Sylus grins when he feels your gummy walls pressing down on just two of his fingers, the quivers typically indicative of how close you are. 
He pushes you harder into the wall, lips finding your earlobes as he huffs out his words, “Look at you, my dear little hunter. So beautiful when you’re helpless.”
You whine indignantly at his condescending words, wanting to retaliate. With his lips at your ear, his neck is exposed before you and you take full advantage of his vulnerability. You sink your teeth back into his pulsing neck, knowing just how much pressure is enough to have him writhing for you. 
Sylus jolts, his fingers slipping out of you and his knee buckling slightly. His grip on your thighs tightening as he hisses out in surprise. He composes himself just as quickly, straightening up and bouncing you up to readjust his possessive grip on you. 
He pushes you back against the wall, his hard abdomen pressing into your pussy. You groan when you feel your wet lips spreading against his chiseled muscles, his body pressing so forcefully into yours, your arousal smearing against him.
His thumb and index finger take your chin into his grip, still wet with your slick, pulling your face towards his. His arrogant grin is as alluring as it is infuriating, his ruby eyes swirling with a dark amusement. 
“No more mercy, little bird.”
Sylus presses his lips to yours, his fingers tightening around your chin. His kiss is demanding, nearly suffocating, in a way that makes you reel with excitement and anticipation. It’s so torrid and feverish that you almost don’t notice his Evol unraveling your arms from around his neck, bringing them to his chest. He holds you steady with his one arm, and with the other he releases your chin, taking the two of your wrists into his single free hand. His hands are so large that even just one of his hands can envelope both your wrists. 
As his tongue probes the parting of your lips, he holds your wrists, bringing them up above your head and pinning them against the wall. His fingers play with your trembling ones, tracing the lines in your palm and grazing all the way up to your fingertips. 
You feel a brief shuffle and hear the faint thud of Sylus’s towel dropping to the floor, the scorching head of his cock prodding at your entrance. You gasp into his mouth when you feel him taking the base of his erection, stroking it against your clit. You screw your eyes shut at the deliriously delicious friction, moaning into Sylus’s mouth, his tongue claiming every corner of yours. 
Sylus pulls away, his breath coming out in short rapid gasps. He leans his forehead against yours, his fingers still enclosing yours, binding your wrists together against the cold shower wall. His proximity makes it so his warm breath fans across your swollen lips, the taste of him still on your tongue. 
He looks down at you, his crimson eyes smoldering against the heat he’s so desperately trying to keep at bay for you. If it were up to him, he’d have you splayed across his lap, screaming until the whole small town in the oasis could hear you. Unfortunately, pressed up against the wall whimpering for more would have to do.
“Are you ready, sweetheart?”
You stare at him, arms restrained above your head, chest heaving in anticipation, lips swollen and parted. Sylus smiles at you. It’s that signature Sylus smirk, heart-stoppingly tender and predatory all at once. But when his glowing cerise eyes meet yours, that’s what has your breath catching in your throat. 
The tumultuous sea of red conveyed every ounce of emotion that his words couldn’t. What it meant to have you here in the desert with him, a place that once reminded him of hell. What it meant to have you here, wrapped up in his embrace, ready to do anything to make him happy, whole. With you here, it truly did feel like an oasis. 
So you murmur boldly, cheeks warming, “M’yours, Sy. Of course I’m ready.” 
Sylus’s smile falters for a second, before he growls, slamming you back into the wall, palm cupping the back of your head with one hand, and your lower back with the other, to protect you against the impact. 
“That’s my girl.” 
With those words, his swollen cock head at your entrance finally surges forward, nudging its way into your tight embrace. You cry out as Sylus curses, the both of you never getting used to how impossibly snug the fit was, almost to the point of not fitting at all. 
Sylus takes it surprisingly slow, watching your face carefully as he sinks into you inch by inch. His hand strokes your cheek, in an overwhelming show of tender affection. Something about this desert oasis had him unusually vulnerable and it was intoxicating. 
You squirm as he bottoms out, his cockhead nestled sinfully against your cervix, practically demanding entrance into your womb. His fist is pressed into the tiled wall behind your head, his knuckles white with desperation. His entire body twitches, his breath coming out in short desperate pants. You hold his face with your hands, forcing him to level with you, stroking his sharp jaw with your fingertips.
“Sylus?”
His carmine eyes dart to yours, the vast storm of his irises looking faraway and distant. But when he looks at you, his eyes soften, the sight of you grounding him to the moment, pulling him away from the agony he once endured here. 
You kiss his furrowed eyebrow, “I’m here, Sy.” 
Sylus groans, his facial features softening at your touch, your raw words making him heave with desire. 
“You are. And you’re mine,” he growls, finally moving inside you, pulling out until just his leaking tip is nestled in your warm waiting cunt. Giving you just a second to adjust, your pussy pulsing with the need to be filled once more, he slams back into you. The impact of his thrust knocks the air from your lungs, your body sliding up the wet walls of the shower.
“Sylus!” you squeal, trying to control  your voice. Sylus grunts, reveling in the sound of your pleasure, pulling out of you and rutting back into your poor quivering cunt at a rabid vigor. 
Your bodies are pressed so tightly together, that every minute movement Sylus makes causes your clit to brush against the trail of silver hair that paints his pelvis. His hot breath is in your ear, whispering the filthiest things to you.
“You like it rough, don’t you sweetheart?” he nips your neck, savoring the taste of your clean showered skin against his insistent tongue. Your bare shoulders are already littered in his claiming marks, beautiful red bruises forming where his lips raze like wildfire. Sylus’s eyes glimmer with satisfaction at the sight of it. 
“C-can’t take it,” you whine, fingernails digging into his shoulders. His passionate thrusts are demanding, almost mean, as they try to pull moan after moan out from your lips. Your pussy quivers, already shivering from the amount of pleasure Sylus is able to force on you, so much that it spills over. 
“Yes you can, hm?”
He hisses when your nails dig further into his skin, leaving beautiful little red crescents on his muscled shoulders. Sylus always thought it was utterly insane how you knew just how much pain to mix with his pleasure to have him unhinged, just enough to want to devour you. 
You find your wrists being bound above your head again, his hand pushing them against the wall. His forehead pushes against yours as his lips desperately seek yours, capturing you in a breathtaking and fiery kiss of unspoken feelings. A torrid storm of the way he’d missed you desperately on his trip away, so much so that he had to use the little boy wanting to learn to fight wanderers as an excuse to fly you out to him. 
He pulls away, leaving you both panting for air. As he continues his feverish ruts into you, he huffs into your ear, “You can take it. You’re my good little dove, right?”
The look of complete and utter desperation in his eyes makes you want to give into every wish and whim of the silver-haired man before you. So you nod obediently, closing your eyes in satisfaction when his fingers rub soothing circling into your palms. It’s a jarring contrast, the way his hand caresses you affectionately while his cock ravages you relentlessly. It makes you delirious with ecstasy, and your body is no different.
Your cunt throbs with the need to come undone, the coil tightening so tightly that your abdomen threatens to burst. From the pleasure of his touch or from his massive cock seemingly trying to find its way into your throat, you’re unsure. 
“S-so deep,” you cry, digging your nails into his hand as it holds yours in place. Your back slides up the wall at every one of his deliberate pointed thrusts, a mere ragdoll to his ravenous hunger against the cold dripping wall.
Sylus, groans. You feel a slight shift in energy, and Sylus moving beneath you. But your position against the wall doesn’t change. Sylus’s Evol gently grips your thighs, keeping you suspended as his arm that held you up is now free to press down on your tummy. 
“I know, doll. Can you feel me all the way here?” he draws his words out seductively, pressing down on where your walls bulge against your pulsing naval. 
You squeal at the overstimulation of him physically pressing your cunt down onto his cock that still spears in and out of you wildly. Sylus removes his hand to press it against your lips, his index and middle fingers slipping into your lips that are still parted mid-scream. 
His digits press down on your tongue, faintly tasting like his expensive body wash, “Shhh, Y/N. We wouldn’t want anyone to hear, hm?”
You whine. Truth be told, the imminent danger behind his words only gets you more and more excited, closer to the edge. His forceful fingers toying with your tongue only fueled your filthy desires more, and your body reacts just as eagerly. 
Sylus bits the inside of his cheek, swearing as your tight walls convulse tightly onto him. Your pussy unknowingly constricts the thick throbbing veins that press of his erection, pressed snugly into your sweetest spots. 
“Ah, my sweet girl is so filthy. Did you like that? Like the idea of someone watching me fuck you dumb?”
His condescending words have you shaking your head, still hanging on to your slim shred of dignity. Sylus chuckles, nuzzling into your neck.
“You can’t lie to me, little bird. I can feel the truth.”
“F-feels s-ooo good,” you admit, throwing all embarrassment to the wind. Sylus swears at how adorably muffled your words are against his fingers, how your eyes are hooded with pleasure as they watch him dreamily. The adoration in your stare was so palpable, hearts nearly reflected in your eyes. His knees buckle as he admires your beautiful face, so angelically fucked out that it ruined him. 
Sylus shifts you into his single arm once more. He could easily keep you secured in the air with his Evol for hours yet, but at this moment he wants nothing more than to be as close to you as possible. He wraps one of your arms around his neck, intertwining his fingers with your other hand.
“Hold on tight, my love,” he rasps against your collar, bringing your intertwined fingers above your hand and against the wall for leverage. His thrusts take on an unprecedented intensity, the globes of your ass slapping against the wall in loud, filthy, and wet paps. His vigor makes it easy for him to hammer into your g-spot at every thrust, having you reaching the summit of your orgasm all too quickly. 
“Sy-Sylus! I-I’m so close,” you wail, fingers desperately clutching his, other hand digging into the back of his neck.
Sylus is close too, weeks of pent up emotion and need brimming to the point of boiling over. The only thing keeping him sane is the grip he has on your hand.
“Need to cum in you,” he hisses, driving into you harder as he nears his peak, “Need to breed you so full of my cum, hm?” 
You nod eagerly at his filthy words, clutching onto him for dear life, “I’m c-cum—“ 
Sylus cuts you off, smashing his lips into yours. It must’ve been a sight to behold, the way Sylus had you locked in a passionate kiss, his hand holding yours above your head, his body pushing you up against the wall, pelvis wet from your arousal as his silver hair brushes repeatedly against your clit.
It was all enough to have you finally releasing all over his defined abdomen. You squirt against his stomach, eyes squeezing shut as his tongue claims your very breath. Your climax is powerful, mind-numbing, and utterly explosive. 
Sylus huffs in pleasure as he feels your dripping thighs slapping against him, his own orgasm imminent. Your cunt continues to throb in the afterglow of your climax, wringing tightly against his violent ruts.
Finally, he climaxes inside you, moaning wildly into your mouth as he continues to devour you,  thrusting through the intense waves of pleasure. His abdomen trembles, involuntary quivers wracking his body as rope after rope of his thick seed pours into you.  
His lips pull away and he leans his forehead against yours, his entire body still quivering with waves of the intense overstimulation. His chest heaves violently with the pounding of his rapid heartbeat, his fingers still tied to yours, tracing gentle shapes in your tingling skin. 
Sylus chuckles, the sound gentle and warm and the vibrations reverberating onto your own body as he clings to you still. 
His eyes glimmer with amusement, his fingers capturing your chin again and pulling it downward to where your bodies remain connected. His voice is tender and mischievous, “It’s just like you to make such a mess when you’ve already used up all the water.”
You blush furiously when met with the image of your bodies, fit against each other together like puzzle pieces, glimmering with a wet sheen that was definitely not water. Your red satin nightdress had ridden up, the lace embroidering of the hem soaked. The argent dusting of hair on Sylus’s pelvis was matted in both your arousals. It was an absolutely sinful sight. 
“P-put me down!” you hiss, tapping his chest, “We have to find a way to clean this up.” 
Sylus raises his eyebrow at you, “Sweetheart, the only thing keeping the mess inside is my co–” 
Your hands come together to cover his mouth, “Don’t say another word.”
Sylus chuckles into your hand, his breath warm and tickling You feel a sharp, but gentle, nip.
“Hey! Don’t bite m–OW!”
—--
The night air is brisk, sounds of ancient handbells ringing out softly as the dark sky twinkles with distant stars. A nearby bonfire rages, the sound of crackling of wood mixing with the distant chime of bells. And yet, it’s Sylus’s large body holding yours that keeps you warm against the gentle night breeze of the desert. 
The hammock the two of you cuddle in swings lazily, Sylus’s fingers languidly stroking your hair as he tells you myths of the Gods and humans that once resided in this very valley. 
“What about your world? What was your life like as a kid?”
Sylus is still as his body cradles your own, his fingers crushing the blossoms that had fallen into his palm. He hesitates for a second before saying, “Nothing special. I struggled to survive.”
Your heart clenches painfully at his words. His voice is nonchalant, yet something about his words is melancholic. Eerily wistful. 
“I never imagined that one day, we’d be sitting in a place like this. Having discussions about the world,” you whisper.
You look up to catch Sylus staring at you. For a brief second, you catch the emotions in his eyes. They’re desperate, pleading with yours. For what, you’re unsure. He quickly blinks, the cerise orbs returning to their natural state.
“Do you think we’re talking about the same world?” His voice is unbearably gentle, his words confusingly cryptic, as if edged with a double meaning that you can’t quite grasp.
“I’m not sure,” you confess softly.
There’s a brief moment of silence. You continue, “Today is when people give flowers to each other in Linkon, but…”  Your voice trails off. You gently dust off the fallen petals that’d landed on his shoulder, hand reaching to brush over his heart as you pick up a branch of the delicate flowers off his abdomen.. 
“Could those flowers bloom in this kind of soil?” You ponder aloud, holding the cluster of fallen and wilting blossoms, so different from the vibrant and thriving ones you’re familiar with in Linkon.
You glance up at Sylus again. The shadows of the palm trees above you obscure one side of his face, the other half haloed by the soft glow of the moonlight. He looks threateningly ethereal. The pools of carmine in his eyes glow as they search yours. Like earlier, they glimmer with inexplicable emotions that seem to plead with yours. Begging you for…something.
But he doesn’t speak, instead taking the cluster of wilted blossoms from your fingers. He twirls them in his fingertips, inspecting them carefully. He strokes the browning petals, a strange look of nostalgia flickering across his face. 
You don’t understand, but you reach out for his hand, squeezing his fingers in yours. He squeezes you back, still looking mournfully at the flowers in his fingertips, almost as if remembering a painful memory. 
Finally, Sylus turns to you. His smile is devastatingly beautiful and tragic all at once, his finger moving to tuck the loose strands of hair behind your ear.  His piercing red eyes bore straight into your soul, the faint luminosity of his Aether core beating behind them.
“I’ve seen far more beautiful flowers bloom in this desert.”
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© aeyumicore 2024.
.ᐟ✧ THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND AO3. i am not @/aeyumicores or @/aeyumiicore or any variations of my blog name.
✧.˖ i do not permit translations or reposts of my work on tumblr, ao3, or others. please do not reuse my blogpost headers, dividers, or layouts. these are original designs of my own.
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tonycries · 7 months
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Brooklyn Baby - G.S.
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Synopsis. Everybody wanted to fuck Suguru Geto, lead bassist of Tokyo Special Grades. Said Suguru doesn’t want to fuck anyone else but you. He couldn’t give less of a fuck if anyone walked in right now. In fact, a small part of him wishes someone would.
Pairing. Geto Suguru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, rock star! AU, fwb-to-lovers, unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), fingering (female receiving), Suguru is sinfully sexy and in l*ve with you, Satoru is a menace, pet names (darling, my girl), Suguru has tattoos and piercings, swearing.
Word count. 3.2k (DAMN I got carried away)
A/N. Happy Valentine’s day! *throws somewhat-fluffy smut at you and leaves* 
Art by @_3aem on X.
Also, wild west! AU longfic with someone dropping on Sunday night (EST), keep your eyes peeled yeehaw.
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Everybody wanted to fuck Suguru Geto, lead bassist of Tokyo Special Grades.
You did. Your fans did. Hell, you’ve even caught your overworked band manager sneaking a few too many glances. 
And, you conclude, the groupies currently batting their lashes at him definitely did. 
You watch as they swarm to him during open rehearsal, giggling at his pretty smiles. 
Whatever, part of the job anyway.
It’s not like you two were dating. Yeah, a few fucks here and there throughout the years - but what’s one to do when on the road and in such close proximity with a guy that’s practically walking sex? 
Trying not to scowl, you turn away from the commotion, continuing to tune the strings of your trusty Fender. You’ve had your fair share of die-hard fans, so lately why did it bother you so much when Suguru entertained their thinly-veiled advances? 
“Ohoho~ Quite a look on your face there, why don’t you go and caress his biceps too?~” you hear idiot brigade member #1, Gojo Satoru, cackle from beside you. 
If looks could kill, Satoru would’ve been 6 feet under and rotting already. “I thought you stopped writing band fanfiction, Satoru.” you raise a brow. 
“THAT WAS ONE TIME.” he whines dramatically, clinging onto you and shaking you back and forth as if to knock the memory of his Wattpad tendencies out of you. “WHY ATTACK ME JUST CUZ YOU’RE JEALOUS? C’MOOON ADMIT IT.”
You were not jealous. 
Suguru knew you were jealous.
Sneaking a glance, he had to fight the urge to coo at the adorable little furrow of your brows. How unprofessional would it be if he walked off mid-conversation to kiss that pout off your lips?
He knows it’s just sex for you. But - foolishly - every time he held you he could only hope that he ran through your mind as often as you did through his. It elated Suguru to know you were getting that worked up over him. 
That is until, out of the corner of his eye, he spots Satoru draping himself all over you, whispering god-knows-what into your ears. 
The rational part of Suguru knows Satoru is a very touchy person, but why was he so…close? And why weren’t you pushing him off?
Smile tightening into something a little more artificial, he turns to the girls fawning over him. “Well, ladies, I’m sorry to say I’ve gotta go practice before Shoko yells at me again. I’ll see you all in the front row, yeah?” he lies smoothly, disappointed whines following him as he makes a beeline for your figure.
“Well! What have we here, Satoru, are you done tuning?” Suguru pops a head between yours and Satoru’s overly close ones, interrupting whatever conversation you were heatedly whispering. What was so important that you two needed to be that close to talk anyway?
He narrows his eyes at Satoru’s surprised ones, an invisible conversation taking place between them before Satoru cracks a smug grin. “Alright alright. I’ll go tune my guitar.” he rolls his eyes, heading for his electric blue Gibson. 
Your confused gaze meets the twinkling eyes now boring down at you. “Done with the meet-n-greet already?” you question, eyes darting to the group now watching you two like hawks.
The smile on Suguru’s face grows, “Yeah, remembered I didn’t do my pre-concert rituals right.”
“Oh?”
“Wanna help me with it?”
He doesn’t give you time to answer. Quickly setting down your guitar, he drags you out into the corridor - hand tightly in yours and pointedly ignoring Satoru’s wolf-whistles. 
Hallway sex is overrated, Suguru believes - which is why he heads for the dressing room. 
“Pre-concert rituals” his ass, Suguru just thinks he might pass away if he doesn’t get his hands on you right now. Make you feel like his.
It’s not long before the door is locked and he has you bent over the vanity, knuckle-deep in your dripping cunt. 
“S-Sugu! Why now? The concert- Hah-” You gasp in pleasure as two long fingers probe inside of you, ruthlessly searching for the spot that Suguru knows would have your toes curling and eyes watering deliciously. 
“Fuck the concert, darling. Barely even started and already so wet f’me.” he drawls out over your whimpers. “Wanted you to come over y’know? And save me from those groupies trying to get in my pants.” 
In your lust-hazed mind, you find the words to respond to him, “You s-seemed to - hah - be enjoying that.”
“Of course not.” he leaves a trail of kisses down your back, “Wasn’t my favorite girl.” he whispers into your heated skin.
He’s being rougher than usual, he knows. In the back of his mind he wonders what it was that he was so pissed at. But all thoughts of that are thrown out the window once he presses into that plushy spot inside your wet core, drawing a sinful whine from your mouth. There.
Pulling back to tease your folds with your own slick, he plunges into your swollen pussy once more, easily hitting that spot over and over. 
“Hngh- Suguru, more!” you grind your hips to meet his merciless rhythm, clenching around his fingers. 
You feel as if you’re losing your sanity when he adds in another finger, walls burning as your cunt stretches around his thick rings. 
Suguru was definitely losing his sanity. 
Anyone could walk by. The concert was about to start any second now. But he couldn’t give less of a fuck, too focused on how his fingers were being sucked back in every time he pulls out, your pretty pussy dripping all over his numerous bracelets.
He has to hold back a moan at the way your ass jiggled every time your hips buck to meet his fingers. 
Leaning down over you, he hums lowly into your ear “So desperate for me, hm?”. Pressing the erection straining against his trousers against you, he huffs out “I’m the same, darling. You drive me absolutely mad.”
He feels the way you squirm in impatience at the large outline of his dick, raising your ass in an attempt to get more friction. Eyes crinkling in satisfaction, he pushes down on his girl’s slutty hips, cold rings digging into the small of your waist. 
“Now now…not yet.” he tuts mockingly. 
“Please, Suguru. Please let me cum.”
Increasing his pace, abusing your g-spot relentlessly, Suguru knew by your breathy moans of his name that you were getting close. 
His hand moves from your waist, leaving behind purple marks to remember him by. They wander the expanse of your body - groping your curves, and pinching your nipples through your thin top - delighting in your mewls.
God, you were perfect. He really needed to take his time with you later.
Suguru’s hands, nail polish chipped and fingers calloused from years of playing, finally rest on your face. He pushes your cheeks together, drool pooling at the corner of your mouth and forcing you to look at him through the vanity mirror in front of you. Your dazed eyes meet his darkened ones. 
Suguru was so feral. The man that was usually the personification of grace and poise was falling apart at the seams. His eyes wild and grin spread devilishly as his fingers abuse your cunt never-endingly.
“Look at me when you cum.” he murmurs raspily into your neck, teeth ghosting over your rapid pulse.
You don’t know what it is that sends you over the edge - maybe it was his lustful words, or the way his fingers quirked just right inside of you. All you know is you’re cumming all over Suguru’s fingers, hands clutching the vanity table and eyes locked with Suguru’s in the mirror, mouth dropping into a gasp.
“Fuck! Suguru- Suguru!” you whimper.
Suguru watches in wonder as you ride out your orgasm, using him. He couldn’t give less of a fuck if anyone walked in right now. In fact, a small part of him wishes someone would.
Let them see how beautifully you fall apart because of him.
Finally pulling out, Suguru inspects his fingers. “Now now. That won’t do.” he purrs. 
His tongue erotically licks up your juices covering his rings, still holding eye contact with you through the mirror. He catches the way your thighs press together at his lewd act. ‘Oh? Want some?“ he teases. 
Before you can retort, he’s bullying his fingers into your mouth, making you taste yourself. 
The way you moan around him sends blood rushing straight to his cock. Fuck, he has to steel himself from cumming in his pants right then and there - that wouldn’t be very “sex icon” of him. 
You have no idea what you do to him.
Not willing to wait any longer, he leisurely takes a seat on the spacious vanity sofa. You whine at the loss of contact before catching the predatory look in his eyes. Suguru was going to eat you alive. 
“Come on, darling. Show me how badly you want me.” he grins, legs spreading and prominent bulge on display. 
You take a second to admire the view. Tousled black hair falling enticingly along Suguru’s muscled shoulders, tattooed dragon peeking through where his shirt was messed up. His eyes lustful, and locked on you. 
He was devastatingly handsome. Your mouth waters at the chance to get what so many people would kill for.
Suguru chuckles as you struggle to unbuckle his belt - did rock stars have to always wear such complicated trousers? 
Finally, you pull them down along with his boxers to expose his creamy thighs. Suguru’s throbbing erection lays on his abs, flushed a delicate pale pink.
Your pussy quivers with excitement as you press wet kisses to Suguru’s leaking head, precum dripping down his length to where you’d gently grasped him. A strangled hiss leaves his mouth as you swirl your tongue around the slit. You find yourself lost in his heady taste - he tastes so good.
“Having fun, darling? C’mon now, use me the way you want.” he murmurs, need laced into his voice.
You’ve never gotten used to how big Suguru is. Soft groans leave his mouth as you flatten your tongue and take him in inch by inch, eyes locked with his blown-out ones.
Suguru’s back arches as the heat of your mouth envelops him, hands bunching your hair into a messy ponytail. His pornographic groans echo across the dressing room as you suck on his cock, tongue swirling in just the way you knew he liked.
He can’t even catch his breath with the way you bob your head so heavenly, sucking the soul out of him. It drives him wild to think about how he’s got his lead guitarist on her knees, choking on his cock as your fans wait outside. 
Suguru’s eyes roll to the back of his head as you pop off his cock to take his heavy balls into your mouth, moaning around them as you suck on both erotically.
Shit, he was really feeling it today. 
Through the bangs now sticking to his forehead, he makes out the way your thighs grind against each other for relief. 
You were, too.
If this keeps up he really will lose his sanity.
“As much as I’d love to paint your pretty face with my cum, I think we both prefer it inside, no?” he grits out, cock twitching at the strings of spit and precum connecting you to him as he pulls you off. 
“Need you inside me so badly.” you nod, brain foggy and filled with only Suguru.
He’s quick to lift you into his lap, resting your ass against his pulsing cock, sly grin spreading at the way you’re already so fucked out. 
Suguru feels like he could cum just from the sensation of your juices smearing all over his length, pussy dripping and aching for his throbbing cock. 
“Oh yeah? How bad?” he purrs, eyes half-lidded and already knowing the answer.
“Please. I want you to fuck me so badly, Suguru.” 
“Badly enough that you’d fuck me out there - where everyone is? Show ‘em who I belong to?”
“Yes.” 
At your whimper, Suguru thrusts fully inside you, a moan of relief leaving you both as you finally get what you’ve been craving for. 
“Shit, so tight. Always so good for me, darling.”
Once you start, it’s hard to stop, Suguru finds. 
It happened when he first fucked you in high school - in his car after your first show, running on adrenaline and teenage hormones. And, years later, it’s happening now as he sheathes himself in your wet cunt. 
He just can’t get enough.
He fucks you animalistically, cock ramming in and out of your hole in a way that makes it feel like you’re missing something without him. Nothing in the world other than your two connected bodies. He feels you clamping down on him deliciously, ego growing at you struggling to accommodate his size. 
“F-fuck, darling. Hah- It’s s’tight. Take it like my good girl.”
“Hngh- Suguru, faster!” you groan, fingers delicately playing with the nipple piercings peeking out of his barely-buttoned shirt, euphoric at his drawn-out moans. 
Unlike Satoru - who takes off his shirt every chance he gets onstage - Suguru was one to shy away from showing skin, slutty piercings and tattoos hidden to the world. It just makes it all the more satisfying as you lick a long stripe along the dragon on his shoulder. 
Feels like your little secret. You wanted to be the only one to see this ethereal sight.
“Ah- So good, darling.” Suguru leans back, allowing you more room to play with him as you please. Cock twitching - so close - as you bore into his eyes, sucking his flashy piercings. 
He ramps up his pace, bouncing you on his cock in a way that was carnal. It was so feral, the way his balls sting as they smack your ass, a ring of spit and precum forming around his base. 
His cock aches for release, but he wants to see you cum first. His pretty girl, cumming all over his throbbing cock.
You pull yourself off his swollen nipples and attach your mouth with his, tongues swirling sensually as he kisses you like he needed you to breathe. 
He’s almost as unforgiving with his mouth as he is with his cock. Almost.
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!
“YOOO I don’t know if ‘pre-concert rituals’ was a code-word for something else but we’re on in twenty minutes.” the unmistakable voice of Suguru’s best friend - and occasional bane-of-his-existence - made you two jump apart. 
“The ultimate cockblock.” Suguru sighs out - his pace, however, does not slow down. Each harsh thrust makes it difficult to muffle your yelps of pleasure from Satoru, who was still calling for you two from outside.
Noticing your predicament, Suguru grins dangerously. “Oh? My poor girl finds it hard to stop her moans? Aww, better try harder unless you want dear Satoru finding out.” he mocks in your ear. 
Both humiliated and turned on by his words, your dripping pussy clenches around his cock. He lets out a choked-up groan, biting hard into the crook of your neck to stop it.
A satisfied smile spreads across your face, “Who should try harder now, Suguru?”
Ah, perfect. You were perfect, perfect for him.
As Satoru’s yells about “cutting a chunk out of Suguru’s pay” disappear across the hallway, both of you let out exhales of relief.
“Dangerous game you played there, mister.” you raise a brow, teasingly.
He chuckles out, before pulling you to him closer by the waist. Lips ghosting over your own, he whispers “Only with you, my darling.” 
Slightly more clear-headed but still dripping with lust, you meet the bounce of Suguru’s hips with your own. Eyes still locked with yours, he stuffs you with every inch - tip kissing your cervix so painfully good. 
The steady slapping of skin and synchronized moans fill the room, blocking out the cheering of the audience awaiting your band. 
Yet, the air crackled with something different this time. For the first time, it didn’t just feel like just mindless fucking.
Bite mark on your neck stinging, you could feel Sugurus heartbeat thundering under your touch - synchronized with your own.
In this moment it felt like just you two in this world. 
You wanted to be the only one in his world. Not his fangirls, not some manager, not anyone else. 
Maybe that was the reason for your courage, feeling like everything has finally come to a boiling point. 
“S-Suguru.” you breathe out as you feel yourself getting closer. 
“Mhm?” brows furrowed, he looks up at you with a tenderness in his eyes that does not translate to the merciless cadence of his hips. 
“Be mine.”
And that’s all Suguru ever wanted. 
With a final hard thrust of his cock, he pulls you into a searing kiss that sends you both over the edge. He cums in hot spurts, thick ropes of seed filling your quivering cunt. It was feral - and it made you feel like his. 
Suguru’s seed drips down the side of his length, forming a white ring at his base as he fucks it deeper into you, letting you ride out your highs together.
As your climaxes bate, he buries his face in your neck, kissing softly over the mark from before. “To be yours is everything I could ever want, darling.” he breathes out, hugging you closer as if to hide this vulnerable moment. But you feel the heat of his cheeks on your skin.
Embracing him, you gather his beautiful black locks in your hand, fingers deftly taking the hair tie around your wrist to tie his long hair into a messy ponytail. 
Pulling back, you admire Suguru’s angelic features. Face flushed, lips swollen, and dark eyes half-lidded as he stares up at you in surprise.
“Wanted to see your pretty face.” you huff out a low laugh.
The expression on Suguru’s face is indescribable, such pure adoration in his eyes. 
Voice low, he murmurs words meant only for you, “I…I’m in lov-” 
“HEYYY I’m serious, stop doing the devil’s tango and GET THE FUCK OUT.” Satoru’s voice bellows once again through the door, shattering the little bubble you and Suguru had found refuge in.
“Ah- um-”
“You-”
Both of you stammer out at once, chuckling at how shy you were acting with one another even after all that had transpired in this room.
“We should probably go, before Satoru and Shoko pop a blood vessel.” Suguru jokes. You laugh out in agreement as he carries you tenderly to the washroom, his interrupted words weighing heavily on both your minds. It’s okay, you have time. 
Rapidly cleaned up and dressed, Suguru stops, a hand on the dressing room doorknob. “”Hey..” he starts almost-hesitantly, “After the concert, would you maybe want to-”
“Yes.” you interrupt, excitement lacing your voice. 
Chuckling in pure euphoria as you both exit, your smiles turn more sheepish as you’re faced with a bored-looking Shoko and an impatient Satoru tapping his foot. “You horny lil’ fuckers almost missed the show, think of my poor fans~” he exclaims, though the glee in his eyes at your intertwined hands was very evident.
“Hope the sex was good at least.” Shoko drones out, eyes flitting over your guilty flushed faces. 
‘Oh yeah, and Suguru - next time you dump your fangirls on me, I chop your balls off.“ she chirps out, pointing her drumsticks threateningly at his neck as you all head back.
Blinding lights. 
Deafening screams.
Hair pulled into a messy ponytail, he was fatally beautiful onstage.
Everybody wanted to fuck Suguru Geto, lead bassist of Tokyo Special Grades. 
But he only wanted to fuck you.
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A/N. MMMMM long-haired men.
Plagiarism not authorized.
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justauthoring · 5 months
Text
jerk [2].
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because bakugou katsuki is a jerk but he's also unfortunately your soulmate.
a/n: the LARGELY requested part two! honestly, i'd be willing to write more parts if people wanted :) this part ended up being more about the girls and y/ns friendship but i couldn't help myself - if you guys want some fluff with bakugou for future parts, just let me know!
pairing: bakugou katsuki x f!reader
part one. part three.
“You’re hiding something from us.”
There’s a beat of silence, then another, then another and when finally, you realize you should say something, you blink, sputtering out a barely believable; “no i’m not.”
Mina and Jirou glance at each other, then behind them at the rest of the girls, and you feel a layer of sweat build up when you realize all of your female classmates are here, surrounding you, demanding an answer. And you’ve never really been all that good at lying before, it’s how Bakugou was able to figure out the whole “i’m your soulmate thing” rather quickly and it had only taken him as long as it had because, well, it was Bakugou.
So, to put it bluntly, you’re screwed.
“Come on, Y/N,” Mina laughs, “that wasn’t even remotely believable.”
You know it’s written across your face, your eyes wide and your lips parted and you’re sure you look like quite the picture in that moment surrounded by every single female student in your class, a group of girls you considered your friends but were feeling considerably more like your interrogators in that moment. 
But you have to at least try.
“I’m not hiding anything,” you repeat, this time taking special care to make sure your voice is even and somewhat believable. “I’m just… tired. It’s been throwing my balance off. Sorry guys.”
You really are because you have been weird recently and you were hiding things (even if you were desperate for them not to know that) so the sincerity was there and it seems to be enough because they all glance at each other, frowning, and you can literally see the determination fade as Momo speaks up first.
“You have been leaving to train a lot,” she agrees with a solemn nod. “It’s no wonder you’re so tired. But you should still try to get some rest, don’t push yourself so hard.”
You let out a breath of relief, trying not to let it show as some of the girls shuffle back to walk away, until—
“Wait, that reminds me!”
It’s Jirou who calls it out and you feel yourself freeze.
“She hasn’t been training!”
Eyes widening, you turn to look at Jirou. She’s grinning your way, her figure pointed in your direction, clearly pleased she’d caught you in your lie.
“Jirou,” Uraraka calls out, confused. “What are you–”
“Two nights ago when she left to go training, I followed her, thinking we could train together… she wasn’t there.”
They gasp. Literally gasp.
“Now that you mention it,” Froppy nods, finger held to her chin in thought. “I haven’t actually seen her in the gym very often… nor does she look particularly like a person who’s just trained when she comes back.”
Their eyes fall on you and you take a step back.
“Y/N—”
And then you just run.
-
“I can’t believe she just ran!”
“I know!”
“Guys, I’m sure she had her reasons.”
“Who?”
Mina’s lips are left parted at the sound of Kirishima’s voice, all the girls turning to face him in the living room where he’s sat with the rest of the class.
“Y/N,” Mina explains with a huff, falling into the couch dramatically. “She’s been ditching us constantly and always leaving right after we return from class with some excuse. When we tried to ask her about it today, she lied and then when we caught on to her lie, she ran! Literally just bolting down the hallway before we could even blink.”
Kirishima frowns, glancing over to Denki on his left.
“That doesn’t sound like Y/N,” Deku calls out from across the room, head tilted in curiosity. “Especially to lie to you guys.”
“I know!” Mina calls out, throwing her hands up in exasperation. 
“Like I said,” Uraraka speaks up, trying to remain calm. “I’m sure she has her reasons. Maybe something’s wrong…”
“You think she could be in danger?” Shoto asks, quirking a brow. 
Uraraka shrugs; “I don’t know… I hope not.”
Everyone falls silent, worried expressions plastered on their faces.
“Wait, Kirishima… bro.” Denki calls, reaching to shake Kirishima aggressively, to which the red-haired boy swats his hands away, shaking his head.
“What?”
“Hasn’t Bakubro been disappearing a lot too?”
All the girls straighten out.
Kirishima just shakes his head; “Bakugou is always disappearing. You know he doesn’t like hanging with us a lot.”
“No, Denki’s right,” Sero nods, “even if he isn’t hanging with us, he’s usually in his room or in the gym. Recently, he just completely disappears.”
“I guess you’re right…” Kirishima frowns.
“Wait,” Jirou calls out, “what are you saying? That Bakugou is disappearing with Y/N?”
“That’s crazy,” Mina brushes off. “I’ve never even seen the two talk to each other unless they’re forced to–wait.”
Everyone's eyes snap to hers, wide.
“What?”
“You don’t think… no. It’s not possible.”
“Oh my god,” Denki cries out suddenly, leaning forward with a manic look in his eyes. “Bakubro is hurting Y/N!”
“Wait–”
“No way!” Kirishima calls out, turning to Denki. “Bakugou is a lot of things, but he would never hurt somebody intentionally. Especially not a girl. That’s not manly. Right, Midoriya?”
“Right,” Deku nods confidently, before pausing; “I think?”
“Hey!”
“Guys, no!” Mina cuts in, shaking her hands widely before her. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Okay…” Momo nods, “then what?”
She leans in, pausing for dramatic effect. “He could be… her soulmate!”
There’s silence, then, “no way.”
Mina’s face falls; “why not?”
“Bakugou? Having a soulmate?” Jirou snorts, “I doubt that.”
“Everybody has one!”
“Okay, the odds of him actually caring about his soulmate are slim to none,” Froppy offers in response.
“Yeah,” Deku nods, “I've never once seen Kacchan show interest in his soulmate like… ever.”
Kirishima shakes his head; “even I have to admit that’s so not manly.”
Everyone shuffles around agreements but Mina is quick to argue; “have any of you guys ever seen Bakugou’s soulmate mark?” Slowly, one by one, all glancing at each other, the guys shake their heads. Mina then turns to the girls. “Okay, have any of you ever seen Y/N’s? Cause she’s never shown or told me.”
The girls all shake their heads.
“So how can you really know?” Mina raises a brow, “I mean, Y/N is always so secretive about her mark. She refuses to tell me.”
-
“Bakugou, we have—”
“Katsuki.”
Coming to a sharp halt, lips left parted, you blink up at Bakugou.
With a grin, Bakugou gently shuts your mouth with a hand to your jaw, laughing lightly; “say Katsuki. That’s my name.”
You can feel your cheeks warm, profusely, and a burst of heat flood through you as you pull yourself from his touch, avoiding his gaze. “Katsuki,” you oblige with a huff and a pout. “We have a problem.”
“Yes?” Bakugou asks, raising a brow your way as he lowers the weight’s he’d been lifting.
“The girls are onto us!”
Bakugou just stares down at you. “What does that mean?”
Exasperated at his obliviousness, you huff, stretching your hands out before you for emphasis as you stare up at him, wide-eyed. “They know I’ve been disappearing after class a lot. I tried to tell them I was training, which I guess we usually are but Jirou caught on to that being a lie too and now they’re onto us!”
Bakugou just blinks. “But what do you mean onto us?”
You let out a cry; “Katsuki! They’re gonna know we’re soulmates!”
“So?”
Pressing a hand to your face, you can’t believe your situation. Not only were the girls onto you, they knew you were lying, which made you feel awful and if they found out that you’d been spending all your time with Bakugou… well that was bound to bring up more questions. Questions you wouldn’t be able to avoid. Questions that would ultimately lead to them finding out Bakugou was your soulmate.
A hand gently reaches for your wrists, pulling your hands away from your face as Bakugou crouches to meet your eyes directly. 
“Why is it such a big deal?” He asks gently, an odd tone that you’re still not used to hearing from Bakugou yet. His face remains neutral but there’s patience lingering in his eyes as he waits for you to explain why you’re so upset.
And you do. Your lips part and the words are at the tip of your tongue until, suddenly, you can’t say anything.
Nothing leaves your lips.
“Y/N?”
“I…—”
“You don’t want them to know?”
Blinking, you bite your lip. “It’s not that, it’s just…” But again, you can’t find the words.
“You don’t trust them?”
“Of course I do,” you argue instantly, “they’re my best friends.”
“Okay…” he says slowly, and then his face twists, “are you… embarrassed of me?”
Meeting his gaze, you frown. “...No,” you whisper, and you mean the words.
“Then what’s the problem?”
“I…” Shoulders falling, you frown. “Nothing… I guess.”
“So,” he says, “let them find out!”
Sputtering, you lean back; “it’s not like you’ve told Kirishima or any of the other guys!”
“It’s none of their business,” Bakugou shrugs, letting go of your wrists to set his hand on your head. “But if it makes you feel better, I'll tell them.”
You find yourself silent with disbelief once again, Bakugou’s words echoing in your mind paired with the look in his eyes. Just staring down at you.
Looking at you.
Like you’re his whole world.
-
“I’m sorry.”
They blink at you.
“I’m sorry about running away yesterday.”
Another blink.
“And I'm sorry I’ve been lying to you guys for the past few weeks.”
Slowly, all the girls glance at each other, trying to gauge the situation, before Uraraka is the first to speak up.
“It’s okay,” she assures with a smile, setting her hand on your shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. “We appreciate you apologizing. We were just worried.”
“We wanna make sure you’re okay,” Jirou adds, smiling shyly at you. 
You take a look at all of their faces, seeing the sincerity staring back at you, before settling on Mina who still has a hint of hurt in her eyes but there’s also hope.
Well, here goes nothing.
“Bakugou’s my soulmate.”
Silence echoes, once again, before.
“What?”
“I knew it!”
“Bakugou!?”
There’s a mix of words, gasps of disbelief and shouts of question thrown out at you as all the girls rush towards you, swarming you, desperate for answers.
You laugh a little at their reaction, and that catches their attention.
“Y/N?” Mina asks, confused.
“I’ve been sneaking off to see him,” you explain to her, meeting her gaze, before letting your gaze drift. “I didn’t say anything because I’m still adjusting to it myself and I still don’t know how to feel about it. But I realized it isn’t fair to lie to you guys like that and that I want you guys to know because you matter so much to me.”
“Y/N…” Uraraka mumbles, tears welling in her eyes.
Her expression mimics many of the other girls before suddenly there’s a body slamming against your own, arms wrapping tightly around your waist as you stumble back, trying to catch your footing.
“Oh. My. God!” Mina screams, you wincing at the sheer volume, as she pulls back, grinning brightly at you. “You have to tell us everything!”
-
The next morning, you’re sitting at the island in the kitchen eating breakfast, chatting to Mina, Jirou and Kirishima. The rest of the students trickle by, some making breakfast, some in the living room, all in their own conversations, until suddenly it all stops.
It takes you a moment to realize Kirishima, Mina and Jirou are no longer listening to you, head turned to their right and following their gaze, curious, you blink when you realize it’s Bakugou they’re staring at. It’s not like he’s doing anything particularly odd, nothing except for the fact that his gaze is directed on you and he’s heading straight for you and then suddenly, he’s right in front of you.
His gaze drifts from you, to your plate, back to you; “who made you that?”
“Nobody,” you say slowly, still stunned. “I made it.”
He’s grabbing the plate before you can say anything else, pressing a kiss to your forehead that has your cheeks burning before turning and making his way to the fridge.
“I’ll make you something better,” is all he says in explanation.
Your gaze slowly drifts from him to Mina and Jirou who are grinning widely at you, before there’s the shout of;
“Did Bakubro just kiss Y/N?!”
“And offer to make her breakfast!”
“Wait,” Kirishima suddenly calls after Sero and Denki, turning to Mina and Jirou, “why are two grinning!?”
“All the girls are!” Deku exclaims, pointing at Uraraka and Froppy in front of him.
“You guys knew?”
“Of course,” Mina grins, sending a wink Kirishima’s way before shrugging. “Isn’t that right, Bakugou? You and Y/N are soulmates!”
Everyone expects him to ignore her or tell her to shut up, but instead, he pauses in what he’d been doing (cracking an egg for you), turning his head over his shoulders to meet your gaze before smirking. 
“That’s right.”
And chaos follows.
Utter and complete chaos.
3K notes · View notes
sttoru · 8 months
Note
cuddling w choso as he gives reader small kisses around their face <3
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·.⌇𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. choso kamo x female reader. fluff; sfw. reader gets called ‘baby’. please take it easy on me bcs its my first time writing for this man t_t not beta read!
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choso is super clingy when he’s with you. when you try to leave your bed in the morning, he pulls you right back. back into his warm embrace so you wouldn’t suffer from the cold temperatures. you don’s protest and simply allow yourself to be dragged back into the arms of your beloved.
“choso, tickles.” giggles leave your lips as choso plants several kisses on your skin. they’re those ticklish yet sweet ones—the feeling of his lips grazing gently against your cheeks makes you smile. your lover takes his chance once you speak and places a few more pecks on your prominent cheekbones.
he hums, a low sound reverberating through his chest. choso refuses to let go of you. his hands are firmly holding you down by your waist. his eyes are closed like he’s enjoying every second of this, “sorry. can’t stop.”
and he truly cannot. it’s like your body was a magnet—pulling his in by simply being near him. your fingers play with the black strands of choso’s hair while he leaves a trail of kisses down your jawline. it’s soothing to him. nearly makes him purr in content. he can’t help but give your chin a swift, small lick.
“hey!” you pout and try to wipe the saliva off. there is a humourous glint in choso’s eyes—your adorable reaction being exactly what he was aiming for. his hand interlocks with yours, pinning them above your head. his thumb rubs yours gently while his eyes scan your face.
choso grins once he targets another spot, “one more. promise it’s the last one.”
a famous excuse you hear all the time. your lover leans in and his lips attach to the skin between your brows. a delicate kiss that causes your body to shiver in delight. as much as you want to start your day, you also wouldn’t mind staying in bed. especially when choso is being this affectionate.
he pulls back, his tongue darting out lightly to run over his upper lip—from one side to the other. your heart flutters at the sight, your fingers moving his bangs to the side. it reveals that look in choso’s eyes; the yearning one. the one that shows you just how much he loves and craves to touch you.
“hmm,” choso’s voice was raspy. he looks smug with that grin tugging at his lips, but the light pink hue on his cheeks gave him an innocent look as well. “don’t be angry, baby, but. . .”
a silence falls between the two of you. you flutter your eyelashes in response, not knowing what choso is going to confess. his grip on your hand tightens, his other free hand running up to keep your chin upwards, exposing your neck to him.
“i may have lied,” choso mumbles before he buries his head into the crook of your neck.
you squirm a bit. his tongue swipes along your throat, his lips following that same trail. you expected this to happen. no matter how many times choso claims that a kiss would be 'the last one', it never stops there.
“hmph. liar,” you scold, though chuckle right afterwards. you can feel choso smiling against your skin, enjoying the jokey banter between the two of you. he could be a little too playful every now and then. you love it.
the black-haired man never stops his gentle caresses or kisses. he’s absolutely infatuated by you and is not afraid of showing it, “hehe, you can't blame me. you’re just so..”
choso pauses and thinks hard about a word—a word that describes you perfectly. he hums in thought and pulls his head back to look down at you. his eyes meet yours and his heart beats faster at the way you stare at him.
the look you give choso causes him to malfunction a little. he forgets to complete his sentence. instead, he goes for another kiss. on your lips directly.
you let out a small, muffled noise of surprise. your arms encircle his neck instantly to which he responds by squeezing your body tightly against his. the kiss continues for a couple seconds before choso reluctantly pulls away for some air.
his thumb brushes over your bottom lip. his cheeks are redder than before as he leans in close, almost going for another kiss. before his mouth lands on yours again, he completes his earlier sentence with a subtle smirk;
“ . .cute.”
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1K notes · View notes
felinecyan · 2 months
Text
Trust Issues
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[Katsuki Bakugo x Female!Reader]
Synopsis: Some friendly advice: don’t ever go to the rival of your spar partner for help.
WC: 4893
Category: Fluff, Slight Angst,
This blog is a MHA fan page at this point HAHAHA
But since you guys REALLY liked the first oneshot of him, I felt inclined to write another one. So, here you go! 💞
『••✎••』
You didn’t think it would come to this.
In all honesty, you had never intended to hurt your friend.
All you had wanted was a fair fight. After all, that was why you were training, wasn't it?
So you could become a hero?
Now, granted, it was not a secret that Izuku Midoriya had always been on the… opposing end of Katsuki Bakugo's wrath ever since childhood. The boy was a spitfire; you had known that from the moment he had first stepped into class.
The Sports Festival only proved it. He was strong, powerful, and unafraid to let anyone who stood in his way know. It was that sort of determination that you had hoped to one day achieve, the will to succeed and not allow anything to hold you back.
It wasn't that you were star-struck or even jealous when he had been crowned first place at the festival. It was just inspiring, in a sense. He had fought tooth and nail to win, and in the end, he had come out on top.
However, his victory did not mean he could rest easy.
After the Sports Festival, Bakugo had taken a sort of… interest in you. You supposed he liked the way he fought against you, or maybe it was because he saw potential in you as a rival, but when class was over the next day, and the blonde had approached you, telling you to meet him out back, you were overjoyed.
Until he started to beat the ever-living crap out of you, that is.
And he still was, even now.
Every time you believe to be gaining more and more strength, he only proves to have become stronger. It was quite disheartening, actually.
Still, you did your best to keep up with him. It was no surprise to you, though, that he was better at you in almost everything.
That's why it seemed like a great idea for you to start sparring with Deku, right? Maybe the green-haired could teach you a few things and help you gain a bit of an advantage over the hothead.
But, as pure intentions would have it, the choice you made that day had landed you here.
You were at your locker, picking up books for Aizawa’s lesson when a hand rested atop the door of your locker. He didn’t close it, only using it as a resting place for his arm, so you didn't immediately look up to see him, instead pretending that you hadn't noticed him.
"Hey,"
Not a voice you were familiar with. You glanced around the area before looking over at the source—a tall boy with short black hair and dark brown eyes.
You blinked a couple of times. "Hi…?"
He flashed a grin and leaned a bit closer to you, his voice dropping low. "Nice weather we're having, don't you think?"
"Uhm… sure, I guess." The confusion was obvious on your face, and he laughed at your expression. "It's nice, yeah."
"Well, the weather seems a lot nicer on the roof, I think." His words were slow, and his smile was growing a bit too much for you to be comfortable with. "I could take you there, show you the view. What do you—"
He was caught off by the large hand that suddenly slammed down on the top of your locker, shutting it. You were about to tell the person that the door had hit your head when you looked up at those glaring crimson eyes and felt your stomach drop.
Katsuki Bakugo.
"Hey, what the hell?!" The boy exclaimed. "What's the big deal?!"
Bakugo didn't seem to acknowledge the other, simply glaring down at you only. You were frozen in place. You had never seen the boy this angry, not even at the USJ attack.
"You." His voice was quiet, unnervingly calm, but the undertone was filled with enough venom to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. "You lied."
"Uh—" You began but were cut off.
"You told me you had to bail yesterday. That you had homework to do." He was staring right through you, and you felt a cold shiver run down your spine.
You swallowed, and his eyes flickered to your throat for a split second. "I did, though."
"You didn't," He hissed, teeth gritting together. "You were with him."
"With who—"
You had no chance to react before he slammed his fist against the lockers again, right beside your face, and the boy who had been trying to talk to you only watched as you were cornered.
"Don't lie to me, damnit!" He was snarling, eyes alight with fury. His hand moved from the lockers and back to his side. "You were with that shitty nerd. Don't you fucking deny it."
"I—" You tried, but your voice was shaking, and he interrupted you before you could say anything.
"Do you think I'm a fucking idiot?" He leaned down to your level, his red eyes burning into yours. "Do you really think I wouldn't find out about your little play date with Deku?"
"Play date?" Your eyebrows furrowed. "I was just training, Bakugo. It's not that big a deal."
He scoffed, pulling his hands into his pockets. The rage was still in his eyes, but he didn't appear to want to act on it, instead turning his head to the side.
And despite it not being a good time, the dude beside you was still here, and he had a comment.
"Hey, I was here first, dude." He said, stepping forward. "It’s clear you two have a problem, but this chick isn’t yours. Beat it."
You were honestly expecting Bakugo to explode on him, maybe even punch the guy. He was always so aggressive.
Instead, he simply stared at him for a long moment, blinking at his audacity, only to roll his eyes and turn back to you.
"If you think Deku can help you, then go ahead." He shrugged, taking a step back. "We’ll see how good his teaching is if it can get you to stand a chance against me."
"You think—"
He interrupted you, not even giving you the chance to finish.
"Five o’clock, gymnasium." He smirked, but his eyes were hard. "Don't make me wait."
"But, you said—"
He had already turned his back and began to walk away, the other boy watching him with a dumbfounded expression.
Bakugo only nudged him aside with his shoulder, not giving him a glance as he left the hallway. He might’ve called over his shoulder, calling the kid an extra.
You weren't sure, and frankly, you didn't care. The only thing you cared about at that moment was what just happened, what was going to happen, and kicking the ever-loving shit out of the tattletale who just ruined everything.
The guy was still staring at the hallway Bakugo had disappeared in, his eyebrows scrunched together.
"Did he just—"
"Don’t." You held up a hand, and his mouth shut immediately. "Just don't."
The boy didn't say anything after that. You left him as he was, not caring if he was confused or not. He shouldn't have interrupted in the first place.
You walked to the classroom, immediately hunting down the other blonde, who happened to be your betrayer. He was sitting down, talking to Sero and Kirishima, but you didn't hesitate to grab him by the ear and drag him away.
"Hey!" He cried out, struggling to escape. "What the hell?! Lemme go!"
"Why'd you do that?!" You demanded, turning to him and letting him go. "You ratted me out!"
He blinked, not understanding. "What are you talking about?"
"Don't play dumb, Denks!" You pointed at him accusingly, glaring at him. "You told Bakugo that I was training with Midoriya."
"I… was under a lot of pressure, okay?" He raised his hands defensively, leaning back. "Bakugo came to me after school and demanded where you were. He threatened to blow my face off!"
"Oh, yeah, real mature." You rolled your eyes. "Do you have any idea what you’ve done to me?! He’s going to actually blow my face off."
"He didn't seem that mad," He mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Maybe it'll be okay."
"He talked like a regular person," You crossed your arms. "He was terrifyingly calm, Kaminari! And now he wants to meet me in the gym at five o'clock."
"Dude,” Sero extended the vowel, sitting forward in his seat as he had heard the conversation. "You’re so screwed."
You couldn’t help the glare you threw at him.
"You're not helping."
Kirishima also turned, frowning. "No, dude, he's right. You are screwed. I mean, you were sparring with Midobro behind his back." He shook his head. "He probably wouldn’t have cared much if it was me or anyone else, but—"
"You picked his mortal enemy." Sero finished, raising an eyebrow. "Like, seriously, dude. What did you expect?"
"Kaminari not to snitch on me?" You threw a look at the yellow-haired boy. "So much for being friends, huh?"
"Hey, I warned you," Kaminari huffed, crossing his arms. "But no, you wanted to hang out with his rival. If I didn’t tell him, I'm pretty sure he would've killed me. Like, literally, he would've killed me. No doubt."
"But you're fine with me dying?" You asked, a teasing smile pulling at your lips. "I see how it is."
"I thought I would have until after lunch to warn you," He defended himself, shrugging. "Guess he warned you instead, huh?"
You sighed, shaking your head.
"You guys aren't helping," You turned, running a hand through your hair. "I'm dead. So dead. Oh my god."
"Alright, who pissed off the chihuahua?"
You spun around at the sound of Mina's voice, seeing her, Jiro, and Hagakure all standing together.
How wonderful. The gang's all here.
"What are you talking about, Ashido?" Kirishima questioned, tilting his head.
"Bakugo's pissed," Jiro explained, pointing a thumb in his direction. "He’s storming through the hallways like someone just took a dump in his cereal."
"And it's not like he was in a good mood this morning, either," Hagakure added, bouncing on her toes. "Did something happen?"
You groaned and flopped down into a chair, hiding your face in your hands.
"Idiocy happened," Sero answered, shrugging. "That's what happened."
"Shut it, Tape Boy."
"You should probably tell us," Mina advised, sitting down next to you. She pulled you into a side hug, patting your shoulder. "What's up? Talk to me."
"Bakugo found out that I've been training with Midoriya," You mumbled, and the three girls nodded. "I’m dead. Aizawa can’t even save me."
"Aw, c'mon, it's not that bad." Jiro rolled her eyes, walking over to join the group. "Bakugo's all bark and no bite."
"He's not… all bark." You muttered, not meeting her eyes.
"I can vouch for that." Kaminari grinned, but the glare you shot him made him falter. "But uh, no, yeah, he's definitely more bite than bark."
"Oh, you poor baby." Hagakure cooed, leaning forward to ruffle your hair. You couldn't see her face, obviously, but you had a feeling she was smiling. "You can do it, though. It can't be that bad."
"You know what you should do?" Kirishima suggested a bright smile on his face. "Talk to him."
"I think that would make things worse, dude." You rubbed your eyes, sighing.
"I mean, tell him why you were doing it." He shrugged. "He’s feeling all types of betrayed right now, I bet. If you just explain your reasoning, he might let it slide."
"Doubtful."
"But it's worth a shot, isn't it?" He raised an eyebrow, his smile still intact. "Plus, you’d be showing him that you aren't afraid to take the initiative. Maybe he'll be a bit nicer."
"Do it at lunch so that if he tries to kill you, there'll be teachers nearby." Sero grinned.
"You're really not helping." You glared at him, but the group just laughed, leaving you to your sulking.
Mina was about to say something when the door to the classroom opened, and the very loved and grumpy Aizawa walked in. He didn't say a word; instead, he just shot a look at the group before sitting down to wait for the last few minutes before class started.
As much as you wanted to believe it, the only thing the group's conversation managed to do was make you more worried. You spent the entire class staring off into space, staring at the blonde boy who sat two seats in front of you.
His shoulders were tense, and his pencil was practically snapping in half as he scribbled notes on the paper. Every once in a while, his eyes would flicker back and forth, his teeth gritted, and his pencil would move a bit faster.
You couldn’t focus on what Aizawa was saying, too distracted by the blonde's behavior.
The class seemed to go on forever, but eventually, the bell rang, and the class began to shuffle out, chatting and laughing with their friends.
"Hey, Bakubro!" Kirishima walked over to the hothead, who had stayed behind to pack up his things. "You okay, man?"
He was a real one, that Kirishima.
"Peachy." He replied, throwing his bag over his shoulder. His tone was dry, and his eyes were tired, but there was a hint of anger in them.
"You sure? You seem a bit—"
"I'm fine, Shitty Hair." He hissed, his patience wearing thin. "Back off."
The redhead only nodded and backed away, holding his hands up. "Alright, man. Whatever you say."
He looked over at you, his eyes flickering between you and Bakugo.
He didn't need to say a word. You understood. You slowly approached the blonde, your heart in your throat.
"Uhm," You started, your voice cracking. You cleared your throat, trying to seem as unthreatening as possible. "Can we talk? I'll buy lunch."
He glanced at you, his jaw clenching. His eyes flickered down to the floor before meeting yours again.
"What makes you think I need you to buy me lunch?" He huffed, his grip on his bag tightening.
"It's an offer, dude," You shrugged, trying to sound more casual than you felt. It didn’t work. "I just want to talk, okay?"
He stared at you for a long moment, the gears in his head working. He looked over at Kirishima and Kaminari, who had been watching, before rolling his eyes and huffing.
"Fine. Whatever."
He pushed past you and made his way to the door, not bothering to check if you were following. You gave the other two a small, awkward smile and hurried after him, following close behind as he stomped his way through the hall.
You kept a bit of distance but stayed close enough so that he knew you were still there. He didn't speak, didn't even look at you, and his shoulders were still tense.
This was not going to end well.
But he hadn’t said no, so maybe there was a chance.
"So," You began, breaking the silence. "I—"
"Why?" He cut you off, not slowing his pace. His eyes were forward. "I already know your damn reasoning, so don't give me some bullshit excuse. Just tell me the truth."
He had stopped walking, now turning to face you. There were students milling about the hallway, and a couple were giving the two of you strange looks. You tried to ignore them.
You focused on the blonde's gaze.
"You're strong," You confessed, your voice wavering. "I want to be stronger."
His eyes narrowed at that.
"You could've asked," He growled. "You didn't have to sneak around and hide shit."
"Asked to… what? To kick my ass harder during our spars?" You huffed. "Because, as much as I hate to say it, I'm not winning in those."
He paused, his eyebrows furrowing.
"Is that what this is about?" He asked. "You wanted me to go easier on you? Are you kidding me?"
"No, that's not—"
"If you think villains are gonna hold back," He cut you off again, and the volume of his voice was getting higher. "You're out of your damn mind. You can't always depend on some shitty extra to bail your ass out."
"That's not—"
"Then what the fuck do you want from me, huh?!" He demanded, throwing his hands up. "You want me to hold your hand through heroics?! Is that what it is?!"
"I'm not asking you to do anything," You defended yourself, glaring. "All I wanted was a different perspective, damn."
"Yeah, what a nice perspective you got." He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Get perspective off the kid who can’t even use his quirk without breaking his fucking body. What a brilliant idea."
"Oh, come on!" You crossed your arms. "There is no reason for you to be so petty. I did this for you, and for me. What's the problem?"
"For me? " He echoed, his eyes widening. "The hell do you mean, 'for me'? Going behind my back and training with the nerd is not doing something for me."
"I did it to be a better opponent to you!" You raised your voice, ignoring the stares of your classmates. "I'm tired of losing all the time! You're my friend, and I don't want to constantly have my ass handed to me!"
"We're not friends," He hissed. "Friends don't do this kind of shit."
You faltered, taken aback.
"I'm— You're—"
"Save it," He snapped, not meeting your gaze. "I'm done. Fuck this. Fuck you. Go find someone else to train with."
He pushed past you, shoving his hands into his pockets as he stomped away. You stood there, gaping, unable to understand what just happened.
"Bakugo," You tried, your voice cracking. You didn't turn, too busy staring at the tile floor.
"Fuck off, idiot." He spat, not bothering to look back. "You can forget about the sparring later."
He didn't wait for you to respond. Instead, he shoved his way past the crowd, disappearing from sight.
You were still frozen, and you couldn't tell if the tears welling up in your eyes were from frustration or sadness.
The students rushing around you began to slow, staring at you with pity, confusion, or both.
But you didn’t have time to care because, at that moment, you couldn’t think of anything else.
Your stomach twisted. Your head throbbed. Your heart broke.
And you felt like you were going to throw up.
"Dude," Kaminari said, appearing next to you. "That was rough."
You didn't reply. You couldn't.
"Shut up, man," Kirishima said, placing a hand on your shoulder. He was frowning, his eyes full of worry. "She doesn't need that right now."
"This is some B-lister movie shit right here," Sero commented, shaking his head. "Seriously, what a drama queen."
Bakugo… he was… hurt. You could see it in his eyes. He was angry, obviously, but there was something else. Something that you had never seen before.
"He’s…"
"An idiot?" Sero guessed.
"A jerk?" Kaminari added.
"Emotionally constipated?"
At that, Kirishima punched Sero in the shoulder, causing him to groan and rub the spot.
"Ow, what was that for?!"
"He's just mad," Kirishima ignored the question, turning to face you. "Just give him some space. He'll come around."
"This is different," You argued, your throat burning. "I've never seen him like that. Never. It’s like he’s— I don't know."
"He's an asshole," Kaminari muttered, glaring down the hallway. "Don't waste your time on him."
"You didn't see the look in his eyes," You shook your head. "It was so different. He was almost… dejected."
"Hurt?" Sero repeated, raising an eyebrow. "The guy didn't look like he was in pain. He looked pissed."
"I… did this," You said, and the three boys frowned. "He said we weren't friends because I went behind his back. I didn’t realize he saw us as friends, and I— I ruined it."
"Hey, man, you didn't ruin anything." Kirishima shook his head, his voice firm. "He’ll realize the things he said and—"
You needed to apologize. You needed to go to him, and apologize, and explain in a way that doesn’t leave room for questions.
"I'm sorry," You spoke, interrupting the redhead. "I just— I gotta— I'm gonna go."
"Wait, I wouldn’t—"
But it was too late. You were already pushing your way through the crowd, not caring about the future consequences.
You were on a mission, and you were going to get shit done.
It was easy enough to find him. The Pomeranian hair was a dead giveaway. He never made it to the cafeteria and was instead standing off to the side, staring out the window.
He didn’t look up when you approached him, but you could see the tension in his shoulders.
"I'm sorry."
You didn’t beat around the bush or try to ease him into the conversation. You just came out and said it because there was no point in hiding it.
"Just…" He sighed, not bothering to look at you. "Just leave me alone, alright? We're done."
"Look, I didn’t—"
"Why can't you just listen?!" He yelled, whipping around to glare at you. Despite his angry expression, though, you could see the hesitation.
He wasn't as confident as usual.
"You're not listening to me," You argued. "I'm apologizing. Why can't you—"
"Because I don't need you to apologize," He snarled, his eyes narrowing. "I don't want your fucking apologies. You did what you did, and I'm over it."
"It's obvious that you aren't over it."
"What, and you are?"
"No, not at all," You shrugged, trying not to flinch. "I’m trying to fix the problem."
"Well, don't." He huffed, turning back towards the window. "There is no problem."
"You were going to take your anger out on me," You said, not daring to step any closer. "How the hell is there no problem?"
"I told you," He turned to face you. "I don't care. I don't give a shit anymore. I'm not going to spar with you. Not anymore."
"You can't—"
"I can't, or I won't?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Neither," You said. "I didn't— I didn't train with Midoriya because I didn't trust you."
He laughed. Actually, genuinely laughed, his eyes crinkling in amusement. You thought the most terrifying moment of his was when he spoke calmly, but that?
That, right there?
That was the scariest moment of your life.
"Are you joking?" He snorted, the smile disappearing just as fast as it had come. "You think that’s why I'm pissed?"
"It's— it's part of it, right?"
"Oh, no," He shook his head. "No, you don't get it, do you? Do I have to spell it out for you, dumbass? Do you want me to fucking say it?"
You hesitated, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up.
"Say what?"
He sighed, rubbing his face with his hands.
"I was fine with the spars," He explained, his voice quiet. "I was fine with the competition. It was fun. You were a good match, and it made me a better fighter. I liked it."
He stopped, taking a deep breath.
"But when you went behind my back," He continued, his voice tight. "And when you didn't bother to tell me and instead told Dunce Face? Of all people?! That's where I had a problem."
"What does—"
"It means you're a coward."
You felt as if you'd been punched in the stomach, the air being knocked out of your lungs.
"You couldn't even look me in the eye and tell me, so instead, you went behind my back." He continued, and the volume of his voice was increasing. "You were too scared to face me, and you ran off and hid like a child."
"That's not true—"
"It is," He growled. "You know it, I know it, and the rest of the class knows it."
"So, you're telling me you're pissed because I'm a coward?" You asked, trying to keep the quiver from your voice.
"Partly," He replied, and the look in his eyes made you flinch.
"Partly," You repeated, your eyebrows furrowing. "So, what's the other part?"
"That I trusted you."
The words stung. They burned through your skin and pierced through your heart, making you feel as if you were the one with the explosion quirk.
He didn’t let you respond and instead walked up to you, his eyes dark.
"I trusted you," He repeated, his voice low. "I trusted you to come to me if you needed something, and I trusted that you would be honest with me. I thought we were at least close enough for that, but it turns out I was wrong."
"You— you weren't wrong—"
"If I was wrong, then why the hell did I go to Deku?! Why not me?! Why did you not trust me?!"
"I did trust you!" You cried, your eyes stinging.
"You went to the one person who could break his body with every punch," He snapped, his hands curling into fists. "You went to the kid who can’t control his damn quirk, and you went to the one person that I—"
He stopped himself, his face twisting in anger.
"What?" You pressed, taking a small step forward. "What were you going to say?"
"Nothing." He spat, turning his head. "Forget it. It's none of your damn business."
"Tell me."
"No."
"Bakugo," You pressed, trying to sound more demanding.
"Fuck off."
"Bakugo!"
He didn't answer and, instead, began to walk away.
"Damn it," You hissed, running up and grabbing his arm.
"Let go." He warned, not meeting your gaze.
"I'm sorry." You pleaded. "Okay? I'm sorry."
"Yeah, you already said that."
"I do trust you," You said. "You're an ass, and you're annoying, and you can be a bit too hardheaded, but I still trust you."
He paused, not looking at you.
"Then why didn't you go to me first?" He asked, his voice wavering. "You were my damn partner, and yet you—"
"I didn’t want you to make me feel bad," You answered. "I wanted to surprise you and prove myself. I know I can do it. I'm strong, and I'm fast, and I can be better than what I am now, and I wanted to show you that."
He was silent, but he still didn’t pull his arm from your grasp.
"I couldn’t ask for your help," You continued. "Because I didn’t want you to treat me any differently. I wanted you to see what I could do without any outside influence."
"What a stupid reason."
"You don't have to agree," You muttered. "But it was my reasoning, nonetheless."
He didn't say anything, and you sighed, letting go of his arm.
"I'm sorry," You apologized again, trying not to cringe. "I should have told you sooner, and I should have come to you. I should have trusted the way you'd react and not predicted how you would act. I was being selfish, and I should have considered you."
He turned his head, his eyes still narrowed. But it wasn't angry. No, it wasn't anger at all anymore. It was pure curiosity.
"What were you trying to prove?"
"Huh?"
"To me," He said, his eyebrows furrowing. "If you were training with me, then what were you trying to prove?"
You bit the inside of your cheek.
"I'm not sure." You answered, not daring to meet his gaze. "I guess I just wanted to impress you."
"Impress me?" He scoffed again, rolling his eyes. "You really are an idiot."
"What's that supposed to mean?!"
"It means I don't need to be impressed," He explained, his voice softer than before. "I don't give a shit about being impressed. I just want you to be stronger."
"So you can still kick my ass? But be more proud of it?" You guessed, smiling.
"Something like that," He shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I want to be able to fight you without holding back."
"Oh, come on," You complained, rolling your eyes. "That's a load of crap, and you know it. You wouldn't have to hold back against me."
"Oh, yeah?" He asked, his voice lowering. "An hour with the nerd, and you think you're on my level now? You're delusional."
"You underestimate me."
"I'm not underestimating shit." He scoffed, leaning down slightly. "I can tell you, right here, right now, two minutes. I'd give it two minutes, tops, and then your ass would be on the floor."
"Really?"
"Really," He nodded, smirking. "Two minutes. That's it."
"Five o'clock?"
"Tch, fine," He agreed, taking a step back. "Don't be late, idiot."
"I won't." You assured, turning to leave. "I'll see you then, Bakugo."
"You'll see my foot up your ass."
And, just like that, the two of you were back to normal.
Did you win? Hell no. But your plan with Deku did come in handy, and you were able to put up a pretty good fight.
He did still beat you, of course, and the time was 4:57 when he finally got you on the floor.
But, it wasn't as humiliating as the previous spars, and you weren't nearly as embarrassed.
Instead, he just grinned, pulling you up by your hand and offering some tips.
And, honestly, they were better than the ones Midoriya had given you.
So, maybe going to the firecracker wasn't a terrible idea after all.
607 notes · View notes
stardustloserdoll · 9 months
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Can you write dom Johnnie with a reader who literally just wants to suck the soul out of him? 😭🤍
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soul sucker
female reader
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"johnnieee." "y/nnnn." johnnie mimicked as he gave a soft squeeze on my thigh. "i'm bored." i sighed, "me too, any ideas?" i shook my head in response, until an idea popped up into my head. “how about…i suck you off.” i smiled tracing my fingers over his belt. “hm, that would be nice.” johnnie smiled watching as i got on my knees in front of him.
as i began unbuckling his belt he stopped me. “woah woah chill out. im not letting you suck my dick that easily.” i rolled my eyes, crossing my arms.
“seriously?” he nodded his head unbuckling his belt. “you’re gonna have to work for it.” i raised and eyebrow watching as he pulled his pants down, taking himself out of his boxers. “and you’re gonna beg for it, while you play with yourself.” i scoffed crossing my arms “just let me do it johnnie.”
“nope. not until you beg for it.” he smirked as he began lazily fisting his cock. “touch yourself for me babe.” i watched as he stroked himself, slowly getting aroused. slipping my hand into my underwear. “look at you, so pretty.”
i bit my lip, slipping a finger in fucking myself. “fuck.. johnnie.” i whined as i increased my pace, watching as johnnie also sped up, looking down at me. “fuck you’re so hot, don’t stop.” he panted. i arched my back slightly, my thighs clenching around my hand. “tell me what you want y/n...” johnnie moaned as he thrusted his hips up desperately into his hand. “wanna suck your cock..” i panted looking into his eyes with desperation.
“wanna make you feel good, please johnnie.” i whined bucking into my hand. “since you asked so nicely and listened to me.” i quickly reached for his cock, hearing a small gasp coming from johnnies lips as i took all of him in my mouth. slightly gagging around him as i bobbed my head on his cock. “holyyyy, fuckkk y/n.” he groaned throwing his head back.
placing my hands on his thighs i picked up my pace feeling him shake under me. “holy shit, im gonna cum.” he whined as he thrusted into my mouth. i moaned around him, matching his pace watching as his eyes rolled back. his mouth slightly open as he let out moans. each thrust making me force myself back onto his cock. sending one final thrust he shot his cum inside my mouth, his eyebrows knitting together in pleasure. i slowly pulled away and swallowed his cum, smiling up at him.
“holy fuck, y/n. were you trying to suck the soul out of me, god damn.” he laughed as he lied back catching his breath. “maybe.”
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1K notes · View notes
wwilsonbarness · 10 months
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my girl
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pairings:  bucky barnes x female!reader 
summary: based on the request below!
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Warnings: smut 18+ only - established relationship, quick mention of reader being a teacher, minorrrr angst (like not at all), mentions of anxiety, fluff fluff fluff, smut (unprotected sex, public sex, creampie, nipple play, spit kink), use of pet names (sweet girl, baby) - let me know if i missed any please :) 
word count: 2842
a/n: not beta read or really edited lol. Also my first time writing in months so this is kinda shit. 
Feedback, likes and reblogs are much appreciated :) 
I do not give permission for my work to be copied, reposted or translated on any other platform. Do not read or interact if you are a minor.
masterlist
“How do I look?” You ask Bucky as you walk into the kitchen, twirling slightly to show off your outfit. 
“Beautiful as always doll.” He walks towards you and brushes his lips against your forehead. “Don’t be nervous, they’re gonna love you.” 
Bucky always knew how you were feeling, even when you were trying to hide it. 
You take a deep sigh before replying, “I just want to make a good first impression, I know they’re important to you.” 
“Not as important as you are doll.” You feel his smirk against your forehead as he brings himself closer for another kiss. 
“Forever the charmer Buck, I love you.” 
“I love you too,” He grabs your hand and pulls you towards the door, “come on, we don’t wanna be late.” 
You try to stop in front of the mirror to check how you look once more but he stops you, “Stop worrying baby, you look perfect.” 
“I just want them to like me.”
“And they will, I promise” 
Everything about your relationship with Bucky had been amazing so far but the idea of meeting his friends, the people who had been there for him since he became himself again, before you even knew each other, was terrifying. If they didn’t like you, what would that mean? Sure Bucky says you’re the most important person in his life but no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t convince yourself that if his friends didn’t like you then Bucky would dump you. 
“Baby, you have got to stop worrying. They’re gonna love you.”
“You don’t know that Bucky.”
“But I do..” He trails off his words to show you how confident he is about this. Your lips come together in a little pout, which Bucky finds adorable. 
It was only a 15 minute drive to the tower where the rest of the Avengers lived, you were secretly hoping there would be some traffic to hold you up but the roads were nowhere near as busy as they usually were. Bucky could feel the anxiety radiating off you, he wished he could take it away from you, there was really 0 chance that his friends wouldn’t love you, but you were naturally an anxious person and he knew that so he did what he knew comforted you and rubbed circles over your hand on the drive there. You appreciated him for trying to comfort you but your anxiety would not ease up. You’d never felt this nervous before, you must’ve completely zoned out for the rest of the car ride because what felt like only a minute later had actually been 15 and you were pulling up to the tower. 
Bucky had a quick chat with the gate attendant before driving through the gates and parking in his designated spot. 
“You ready doll?” He asks, turning himself towards you with a soft smile on his face.
“Mhmm, let’s go.” You were not ready but you didn’t want to ruin Bucky’s night, it’d been a while since he’d seen everyone with all the missions everyone had recently been on and you knew he was excited. 
He quickly climbed out the car and made his way to your side, always insisting on opening your door for you. When you get out he holds his hand out for you and you immediately grab hold of it. He pulls you closer towards you and plants a gentle kiss on your forehead before whispering to you. “I promise baby, it’s gonna be fine.” You shoot him a quick, almost forced smile, and nod, showing you were ready to go in. 
It only takes a few minutes to get up to the living quarters side of the tower, and now a quick elevator ride was the only thing between you and people Bucky loves. As the elevator started to slow you took a deep breath and readied to walk out. As soon as the doors open you can hear a loud laugh boom through the room followed by a quiet chuckle beside you. It had only been a couple seconds and Bucky was already so happy to be back here. 
As you turned the corner your eyes quickly scanned the room trying to put names to faces of everyone Bucky had told you about. Obviously you knew everyone's superhero names, but to Bucky they were his friends, his family, not superheroes. Suddenly everyone had turned your way and you realise Bucky had made both your presences known. You felt like all eyes were on you and Bucky could tell your nerves had shot up, so he lightly gave your hands a squeeze.”Hey guys.”
“Hey Bucky!” Sam shouted over and began walking towards you. “You must be Y/N? Bucky’s told me a lot about you.” 
You nod towards, who you knew to be Sam, as much as Bucky told you they weren’t best friends, you knew that they were. You smile and hold your hand out to shake his. “That’s me, nice to meet yo-” Before you could finish, Sam pulled you in for a hug. 
“We’re all about hugs here. You’re part of the family now.” You can’t help but laugh and hug him back. You really appreciated him being so welcoming, he was the one person you were most worried about not liking you. From what Bucky told you, he was very protective over the people he cares about. 
“Alright Wilson, don’t scare my girl away.” Sam pulls away and moves to Bucky to give him a hug as well. 
You look at Bucky and smirk, "Your girl, hm?” He looked confused for a split second before the tips of his ears started to turn bright red and his usual smug smirk disappeared when he realised what he’d said. 
“Sorry doll.” You weren’t sure why he was apologising or why he was embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to sa- sorry.” You’d never seen someone's skin turn so red as fast as his had in this moment. 
“Don’t be, I liked it.” You whisper right next to him, hoping no one else heard. Before he could respond to you, more voices filled the space around you. 
“You could’ve just asked for a hug too Bucky, besides if you haven’t scared her off already, I don’t think much will” Sam teases.
“So your girl? Must be serious. I’ll expect my wedding invite any day now. Bucky’s face was only growing redder and he couldn’t look anyone in the eye, forcing his gaze to the floor. His hand was rubbing the back of his neck, something you knew he did when he was embarrassed. You took a small step closer to him and rubbed your hand on his arm, showing you really didn’t mind the nickname, in fact you loved it. A small smile was starting to form on his face but before you could see it grow any more a voice pulled you away.
“Alright Wilson, stop hogging them. The rest of us want to introduce ourselves as well.” You instantly recognise the face as Clint, someone who Bucky truly owed a lot to. He had let Bucky live with him and his family for a bit when he needed some time away from the city. The memories of Steve leaving and his past life got too much to handle and he already felt like he had imposed too much on Sam and his family. He would forever be grateful for Clint and Laura taking him in, he really felt a part of their family, so much so that their kids had started calling him Uncle Bucky. 
Clint put his hand towards yours and introduced himself, “Hi Y/N, I’m Clint. Sorry about him, I promise we’re not all as crazy as him.” You laughed at his joke and shook his hand. It’s lovely to finally meet you Clint, Bucky’s spoken a lot about you.” 
“It’s all lies.” He jokes before moving onto Bucky and giving him a side hug. 
“Laura and the kids here too clint?”
Clint shook his head before moving to stand in front of you both. “Sorry Buck, they had some school things on, but they made me promise to ask you to visit soon, and to bring your girl!” Clint replies with a wink which makes you laugh. Bucky couldn’t stop his huge smirk from reappearing as Clint called you his girl. 
As they continued talking more people made their way over to you and introduced themselves. First there was Joaquin and then Sarah and her boys. The boys completely skipped saying hello to you and ran over to their uncle Bucky before Sarah called them back to apologise. They came back and introduced themselves and with a little nudge from Sarah apologised for rushing past you. “That’s okay, I know you're excited. It was very nice to meet you both boys.” They shook your hand and ran over again to Bucky.
“Sorry about them, I swear they love Bucky more than they love me sometimes.” Sarah smiled at seeing how nicely you fit into the group and gave you a hug, just like how Sam had to show you that you were welcomed. Once all the introductions were done you all sat down in the living room. You were the main topic of the conversation, everyone was interested in knowing how one person had completely changed Bucky’s life. 
“So Y/N,” Wanda started, “Bucky said you’re a teacher?” 
“Yeah that’s right.” You slightly laughed aftwards, not because it was funny but you were slightly panicking being the centre of attention around all these people. Especially since some of them were literal superheroes. “I know it’s not as exciting as you guys but I enjoy it.”
Everyone quickly spoke up and defended you against yourself. Especially Sarah and Clint, with having kids they knew how important teachers were. It felt good knowing that they thought that of you, even though you were still feeling anxious, everyone had been so welcoming to you and you weren't sure why you were so nervous.You didn’t notice but Bucky was looking at you as you spoke, his eyes were a tell tale sign that he was so proud of you. He knew how hard you worked and loved when you got the recognition you deserve. 
“What age do you teach?” Joaquin asked next.
“Oh erm, at the moment I teach second grade but I’m hoping to move up soon.” 
“It must be hard, kids are annoying little creatures.” Sam says, looking at Cass and AJ for their reactions, they both shout “Hey!” before Sam tickles them. 
Another voice starts, you’re not sure who but doesn't get far before Bucky interrupts. “Alright alright, stop grilling my girl.” His girl. “I haven’t seen most of you guys in months, what’s been happening? 
You look at Bucky and smirk when he calls you his girl again and it only takes a few seconds for him to realise what he’s said again and he can’t help but smirk, knowing that you like it. 
The rest of the night went well, you felt like they all really liked you. Before you knew it, it was around midnight and you were working in the morning so had to get home. 
“Again, it was really lovely to meet all of you! Thank you for a great night.” You say as you head for the elevator, Bucky following close behind. 
“Make sure to tell the boy’s I said bye, Sarah!” Bucky shouts, “Clint, let’s plan a trip soon. See you all later!” Bucky shouts through, the elevator doors just cutting him off.
As soon as the doors shut you lead your head against his shoulder. “You okay sweet girl?” 
“I’m good, just tired.”
“You have a good night?”
You nodded against him, “I’m sorry we couldn’t stay longer.” 
“Hey,” He moved slightly and held your head in his hands, bending over slightly to be eye level as he spoke. “We stayed plenty, I know you have work tomorrow, and plus..” He moved closer to your ear to whisper. “.. I couldn’t do this in there.” He lowered one of his hands to your ass and squeezed before pressing you both against the elevator wall. He moved his lips against yours and kissed you, it was a desperate kiss.  “You like being my girl huh?”
You can’t help but giggle when he calls you his girl again. You bite your lip before answering. “I do..” He lowers his hand to the hem of your dress and traces his fingers over your inner thigh 
“Fuck baby, I nee-” The ding of the elevator doors opening interrupts you both. “Fuck!” Bucky curses everything stopping him from touching you right now. He presses the button to close the doors and immediately after presses the alarm button. The elevator makes a clank noise before it goes silent again, the only sound being you trying to catch your breath after that kiss. Bucky goes back to kissing you but starts on your neck and starts going lower and lower. When his teeth graze over your nipple through your dress you push him back slightly.
“Bucky we can’t here..” You whisper, knowing he can hear your heart beating, you needed him just as bad as he needed you. 
“Baby.. I’ll fuck my girl anywhere I want to.” He says before returning to your tits. You bite back a moan which Bucky notices. Your sex life from bucky wasn’t boring by any means but it had never felt as intense as this. The thrill of being in public was sending chills through you. 
“Oh shit.. Bucky please. 
He lifts your dress up and pulls your panties to the side, using his other hand he unties his jeans and pulls them down enough for his already hard cock to fall out. He rubs his hand over it a couple times and looks at you. “Spit on it for me.” His words send flutters through your stomach and down to your pussy, and you do as he says. 
“You ready?” 
You nod as you answer, “Pleasee.”
He lifts you up and rubs the tip of his cock against your pussy, gathering your slick before he pushes in. “Fuck, my girls got such a tight pussy.” He keeps pushing until he’s fully in, hitting that spot that makes you grab onto his shoulders, your nails digging into him, which he likes. “You feel so good baby.”
“Fuck.. Bucky please..” He feels so good but his thrusts are slow and you need more.
“What do you need?” He smirks at you, knowing exactly what you need but waiting until you ask for it. 
“Fuck me..” Your head falls back, Bucky’s hand cups it to stop it hitting the wall. “Please.”
He chuckles at the desperation in your voice, “Anything for you my sweet girl.” His thrusts fasten and you feel yourself racing towards your high. You use your hands to steady yourself as he fucks into you. You bite your lip to stifle your moan but Bucky doesn’t like that. “Don’t do that baby.. Don’t hide your pretty little noises. I wanna hear you. Want the whole tower to hear how you sound when I fuck you.” 
“Fuck.. Bucky you feel so good. I think I’m gonn-”
“I know baby, it’s okay. Let go for me.” He moves his hand from behind your head and wraps it around your neck. The cold from his touch and him speeding up was enough to send you over the edge.
“Fuckkkk.. Bucky I’m cum- I’m cumming.” 
“Oh Fuck.. I’m there too, baby.” He groans, almost whimpers in your ear. “Feel s’good baby.” He slows his thrusts down as you both come down from your highs.
When you don’t respond he looks at you. “You okay?” 
You can’t speak but you nod your head. 
“You all cockdrunk?” 
“Mhmm.” 
“Such a good girl for me.” He strokes the side of your face and plants a soft kiss on your lips. “Let’s get you home, sweet girl.” 
He slowly inches out of you and sets you down. You stumble a little and grab onto his shoulder to steady yourself. 
“Thank you Buck.” 
“You don’t need to thank me, come on let’s get you home.” He puts his arm around your waist before reaching over and pressing the alarm button again. 
The doors of the elevator open and Sam is standing there, his eyes bulge open before he laughs. You immediately stand up straight and try make yourself look like you haven’t just been fucked moments before but it was obvious. 
You feel your skin warm at being caught but Bucky just laughs beside you like it was no big deal. “I should’ve known it was you two lovebirds causing trouble. Now I know no ones really stuck, I’ll see you guys later” 
“Bye Sam.” You manage to mumble before Bucky pulls you closer, you look at each other and have to hold in your laughter.  
“See ya Wilson.”
“I love you sweet girl.”
“I love you more.” 
2K notes · View notes
ohcaptains · 1 year
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don’t you dare fall in love | 3
pairing. dealer college student! ellie williams x f! reader
PART ONE. PART TWO. MASTERLIST. synopsis. ellie tries her hardest not to mix business with pleasure. or, ellie gets a new customer and unfortunately falls in love with her.
warnings. 18+. blank & ageless blogs will be blocked. clichè comments on sorority girls (sorry), sexually explicit descriptions of female receiving cunnilingus, fondling, fingering, and dry humping. not beta’d.
an. well here ya go! thank u to all those who were so patient and lovely with me<3 to those who weren’t and were mean to me...i’m giving you the nastiest dirty look rn. pls comment and reblog!!!! love u. 
When Ellie gets out of her meeting with her personal tutor, she’s just about ready to throw herself down the stairs.
Catapult herself out of the window and perish on the campus floor. That way, she wouldn’t have to rewrite this God. Damn. Essay.
It sucks that she has to do actual work to get her degree, but what sucks even more, is doing the work and being told you’ve done it all wrong.
At first, Ellie was angry. Now, she’s frustrated. Tired. Was up all night writing this essay because she’s been waiting for this meeting for a whole week, and all the man did was say, you’re not actually answering the question.
“Fucking asshole,” she murmurs, pushing through the doors.
She reaches the quiet hallway of the humanities block, the dilapidated building stuffy with age. She misses her uber-funded science building. Misses the cool white and sleek edges. Here, there’s paper covering everything.
The hallways go round and round – lift creaks from the weight of students carrying War and Peace in their backpacks, year after year.
She’s near tears when she hears you calling her name.
“Els?” you ask, tone confused and edged with excitement. Ellie’s heart does its little familiar leap. She turns to you, sniffing the tears away. It’s been a minute since she saw you in the flesh. Her body aches, eager to touch you. “Hey,” she greets, the presence of you brightening her mood for a sweet second. You’re wearing a casual pair of black jeans and a band tee – Ellie owns a similar one, and for a moment, she thinks you’re wearing her shirt. “I was just about to text you –” you start, but your face twists, noticing hers. “You okay?” “Yeah,” Ellie lies. The tears push harder now, your concern making her belly flop.
You frown. “No, you’re not.”
Her lip wobbles.
“Ellie?” “Sorry, just – fuck --” her eyes are rimmed red, tears pushing over the edge. “—had a really shitty meeting with my tutor about my essay that’s worth like, 50% of my grade and I’m so busy with other work and—” a tear slips down her cheek, but you’re quick to take her in your arms, murmuring, “oh, Els,” as you cup her head and pull it into your neck.
She releases a breath, leaning her full weight into your body.
You smell like laundry detergent and coffee. Smell familiar. She’s comfortable here. It’s why she lets herself begin to cry against your shoulder.
“Awh, sweetheart,” you whisper, hands running up and down her back, soothing her like a baby.
“What did the feedback say?” “Have to change the whole thing. And I have enough time, but I have other work.” “Yeah, I can imagine.” “He basically said that if I submit this essay, I’ll fail.” “Well, you won’t, because I’ll hack into the system and change your grade for you.”
Ellie hiccups a laugh, “you know nothing about computers.” “I’ll learn for you. Take some night classes. What’s the essay for?” you ask, still rubbing her back. “English.” “I can help you if you want.” “Yeah?” “Yeah, come to mine. I’ll look through the question with you, and help you plan.”
Ellie pulls away, wiping her wet, red-rimmed eyes with the sleeve of her hoodie. You help her, drying the dampness from her chin and cheeks, and smoothing her hair behind her ears.
She beams from your touch. Her body goes hot from your care -- belly flips over.
You hold her shoulders, keeping her steady, and Ellie thanks the Gods you texted her that day. Your smile is resolute as you say, “It’ll be okay. We got this.”
When you open the door to your accommodation, Ellie is mid panic attack. “You live in a sorority?” she squeaks. When you sent her the address earlier, she hadn’t really read it, too busy trying to calm her beating heart. Going to her house going to her house.
Now, she’s standing in front of you, and thinking – this is your house? There’s a teardrop chandelier hanging behind you, and the staircase loops around the entrance hall, feeding into the back of the house.
You frown, confused. “Yeah, did I not tell you?” “No – “Ellie bursts, clearly flustered, “-- you failed to provide me with that information.” She makes a mental note to text Dina, simply – what the fuck, man? “Is it a problem?” you wonder, leaning against the doorframe, comfortable in your home. (Wearing pyjama shorts and a baggy top, you know, comfortable)
You didn’t seem like a sorority girl. But what did that even mean?
You did have a lot of…spirit.
Ellie imagines you hosting mixers and philanthropy events.
(Imagines you wearing a lot of pink and jumpers with your sorority name on it and nothing else.) “I don’t really sell to frats or sororities,” she explains, because, yeah, that’s the reason she’s having a hot moment. She thought she knew a lot about you. This, right here, is a big deal, and yet she’s only now just finding out.
What else did she not know about you? You think for a quick second. “Oh. Well,” you smile, patting your chest, concluding, “I’m the exception,” and you take her hand and pull her in, closing the door behind her.
When Ellie’s in the house, she doesn’t let go of your hand.
Instead, she uses it to tug you closer, and your wrist pushes into her belly. “They let queer girls into sororities?” she whispers, close enough to taste the mint gum you’re chewing.
Ellie has ideas of girls on the straight and narrow. No girl kissing here, unless guys are watching. Ellie cringes at the cliché, but you’re not offended – hadn’t heard her thoughts, so, that would be why – as your lips pull into a sly smile.
You lean forward, a ghost of a kiss. Ellie’s throat squeezes. “They don’t know that I’m a queer girl,” you whisper back, the heat of your eyes all-consuming.
Ellie watches you shrug.
“They don’t know that at least a quarter of them are queer girls, but – they’re not ready for that conversation.” “But you’re out, no?” Ellie quickly stumbles. If you’re not out, then that really messes with her plans to marry you and meet all your family. “Yeah,” you shrug again, explaining, “they just haven’t asked,” as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. In some ways, Ellie guesses, it is. She beams, “Well, they’ll ask when they see you hanging with me.” “What, why?” “Because I’m a known queer girl” “Oh, you have a reputation?” you quirk, and Ellie hums, “It’s possible I may have fooled around with some of your sorority sisters.” You chew on your lip, and cock your head to the side, “But did you share a really weird and intimate high with them where you cuddled all night, woke up mid-orgasm and then it made things super weird and odd to the point where you never really spoke about it again?”
Ellie grins, “No.” You shrug, “Oh, well. I win then,” and take her hand and begin to drag her behind you like a lost puppy dog.
She’s behind you on the stairs again, and you catch her staring when you turn to say, “Let’s go to my room.” As you drag her through the house, Ellie doesn’t see anyone, but she does hear the ominous sound of girl giggles and whispering. Heat blooms in her cheeks, as if she’s got omniscient eyes at the back of her head.
Ellie didn’t get along with peppy girls – too full of inner turmoil to match their happy-go-lucky attitude. The thought makes her clutch your hand tighter, and she speeds up, bumping her shoulders with yours.
“So, what’re the rules?” “Huh?” you ask, looking at her funny. The pair of you pass a group photo, and Ellie wants to stop and gawk – try and find your smiling face – but you tug her along, sensing her motives. “Like,” Ellie starts, stuck on her phrasing. “How should I be around you?” You frown up at her, deciphering her meaning. Slowly, your frown loosens. A small smile pushes into the side of your cheek. You squeeze her hand.
“Just be my Ellie.”
The pair of you go through Ellie’s question, and you help her write up a plan, noting all of her points and the quotes she should use.
Ellie tries to focus, but the whole time she’s thinking about how close you are to her – leaning against her, pushing your shoulder into hers.
She’s sitting on your bed in your room, and she’s hot all over as a result – smelling the scent from your burning candle and listening to the soft music you’re playing out of the laptop speaker.
Your walls are covered in posters. Pictures of you with family and friends and Ellie is surrounded by so much you that it feels like it’s always been like this.
Always been in your room, with her head on your lap, listening to your playlist – Ellie’s got Shazam out, but you’re just sending her the link. On her main phone, now – no busted one at the bottom of her bag.
She’s so busy being with you that she’s not wondering what she’s doing with you.
What are we? She wants to ask, but then your roommate decides to come in.
She pauses in the doorway, flinching as if she’s walked in on something intimate.
Ellie watches your eyes widen an inch, but then you catch yourself, smiling and waving. “Hey,” you greet, and your roommate – actually wearing a hoodie with your university name on it -- smiles, “Sorry, just grabbing my charger.”
“No problem,” you respond, and when she finally flicks her gaze to Ellie – kept on looking around her, like she was panhandling for money on the subway – her smile loosens.
She’s silent as she grabs her wire from her bed and doesn’t look at the pair of you as she leaves. When she’s out of the door, you get up and lock it. Coming back, Ellie gets comfy on your lap again.
“Did she look at me funny?” She’s not sure what your relationship with her is like, so she steps carefully. “I think she fancies me,” you casually explain, and Ellie’s belly flops.  “For real?” You nod, wiggling your brows. “Should I be jealous?” she jokes, and your lips curl, tongue peeking out as you run it across the backs of your teeth. “We were together, once.” Ellie tries to imagine the pair of you together, and she comes up blank. Though, that’s probably because she’s too busy editing the image to clip her face in. “Yeah?” “Mm, at a Halloween party.” You’re grinning too wide. “You’re just fucking with me,” Ellie huffs, rolling her eyes. “I’m not! I was dressed as a cat, and she was this like, sexy nun or something.” “Really?” Ellie asks, raising a brow and pulling a face that says, you’re full of shit. “Fine – I won’t tell you then.” “No no, I wanna hear this.” “What’s with the tone? I thought you’d for sure want to hear about my sexual escapades.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” You pull your lips together and raise a brow. Ellie suddenly feels too hot. Suddenly wants to run very quickly out of your bedroom door. Butterflies swirl in her belly, blood rushes to her cheeks, to her neck, and she feels the tips of her toes go numb.
You’ve danced around each other with this flirty banter for a while now, but it means something more now that you’ve said it out in the open.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ellie lies, hoping the red of her cheeks isn’t too prominent in the warm glow of your bedroom. You don’t lose your pursed lips, and Ellie rolls her eyes.
“Just hurry up and tell me about how you fucked your roommate.” “Say please,” you quickly rebut, and Ellie chokes.
The fuck? “What?” She laughs nervously, ignoring the quick electric bolt that shot through her groin, “fuck off.” “Fine,” you bleat, leaning back against the bedframe. “I won’t tell you then,” and Ellie shakes her head, proclaiming, “You’re insane,” and you grin at her, raising a testy brow, “It’s just manners, Ellie.”
When Ellie had imagined the dynamics of your relationship – but not relationship – it was you saying please. Preferably whispering it with your fingers in her auburn hair. Please Ellie, please do that again.
Ellie sits up from your lap, shaking the image away.
She takes in the curve of your brow, and the teasing slip of your lips. She dips closer – sudden, quick – and relishes in the way your mouth falls open an inch.
“I’m not begging you,” she whispers, not bothering to hide how mesmerised she is by your mouth.
“No?” you speak, matching her lazy tone. You nod to her, “I thought you’d be into that.”
Jesus fucking Christ, what’s happening right now? Ellie thought you’d help plan her essay and be done with it – she’d hoped for some flirty banter, but this was different. This was… Ellie leans closer, propped up by her hand that she’s planted beside your thigh. “If I say please, I want intricate detail.” “If you say please, I’ll give you whatever you want.” This girl…
“Whatever I want?” Ellie quirks. “Yeah,” you respond, and you press your forehead against hers, tone breathy as you repeat, “Whatever you want.”
Ellie can think of a lot of things she wants. For starters, she wants to close this gap and finally kiss you, but she says, “Please tell me your story,” and you smile, all teeth.
“It was Halloween.” “You said that.” “n, we were really drunk, and she’s like – straight straight, right?” You say straight like someone would say sorry. “Mm,” Ellie hums, her belly swirling. She hasn’t moved a fucking inch. Her palm is cramping, but hell if she’s going to lean away from you right now. This is a whole other kind of foreplay. “We’re in the bathroom.” “Here?” she asks, needing details – information. What day was it? Time?
You nod, and your nose brushes against hers. Her face blooms red again, and the brush of your touch makes her brain fuzzy. “We’re making out, and I thought she only wanted to kiss, but then she starts tryna take my top off.”
There’s a sincere edge to your tone. Your eyes are wistful, but you’re beaming – spurred by the excitement evident in Ellie’s eyes.
“Things get heated. She’s touching me everywhere, you know, hands just, between my legs, on my chest. Says she’s wanted me for ages but couldn’t say it, I mean, she’s got a boyfriend.” “A boyfriend?” Ellie asks, and fuck, that makes it worse. Or better? Either way, her body begins to ache like it did that morning – when it was just the pair of you and the world was quiet. Thrums electric and Ellie’s suddenly worried about the electric bill. “Yeah – frat boyfriend. Frat president boyfriend.” “Look at you, miss home wrecker.” You roll your eyes, “you want me to finish the story?” “I said please, didn’t I?” “You’re the worst.” “So…she’s taking your top off.” “Yeah. Then she’s taking my pants off, too. Then says, she’s never been with a girl before, can I show her?” Ellie pulls back with a groan. She can’t help it. Pulls back and falls into your lap, imagining you showing her how to fuck.
Her eyes are glazed over, like she’s somewhere else, thinking, about something else. She rubs her face and listens to your sweet giggle.
“Sorry,” she says, settling back, and you hold your hands up.
“No worries, take your time.”
Ellie waits – patiently. Waiting for you to divulge more information. Please carry on, she thinks. Please please please.
She feels like a kid at camp listening to the teens tell a ghost story around the campfire. And then what?
“You made her come?” she whispers, failing to hide the excitement in her whisper. A small, thoughtful smile finds your lips, and you lean down, hair brushing over her face.
Your thigh pushes into the back of her head, and you smell like a forest.
Your room smells like a fucking forest. Pine and vanilla.
The lights are dim, cloaking the room in a warm glow. She swears she hears trees swaying in the distance, but she realises – faintly – that it’s just the blood rushing in her ears. No trees here, she thinks. No bloody forest.
You’re looking down at her, eyes glittering in the warm light. After a stress-filled silence, you nod, whispering, “against the wall, cat ears still on. Made her come so hard it was dripping down my chin.” “Jesus,” Ellie whispers. Her legs fidget, trying to squirm from the warmth pushing between her thighs. She pushes her hair away from her forehead, even those it’s already tucked behind her ears. “Then what?” she asks, moving in your lap. Then what then what.
Your lips curl into a small smile, “Then we never spoke about it again.”
Ellie feels her eyes go dark with the memory. Imagines a film over them — lost in her own brain. Pictures you crawling on your hands and knees, on the prowl with your cat ears sitting pretty.
What was it you said again? That she was dripping all over your chin?
Her tongue peaks through her lips, pretty in pink, and she notices your small smile curve wider. Though, it’s not kind. It’s edged with something, as if you’ve made a funny and she doesn’t get the joke.
Ellie’s belly drops.
A laugh bursts out of your mouth, and she freezes. Nononononono, you didn’t. “I’m sorry—” you start, hiding your smile, and Ellie’s lips open in shock, then she’s snapping to -- jumping up from your lap, red all over.
She’s looking for her coat, hands shaking “nah, that’s not funny,” she’s saying, all while the faux image of you between a girl’s thighs buzzes behind her eyes.
It was her. She was the girl. She’d even imagined taking your cat ears off and putting them on her head. “Yeah, it was – Ellie,” you laugh, reaching for her hand, and Ellie’s body reacts to the touch.
You spin her into you, pouting, “Come onnnnn, I was playing.” “You’re mean for making that up. You’re a horrible person.” “Awhhh, I’m sworry. I’m sworry, come here –” You pull her into you, wrapping your arms around her neck. Be mad. Ellie thinks. Be mad be mad be mad—oh, but you’re so soft and warm.
She falls into you, hands catching your hips — holding you steady, as her head pushes into the curved gap between your throat and shoulder. You hold the back of her neck, hugging her close.
“I’m sorry, that was mean.” “Made me all worked up,” Ellie admits. The all-familiar ache is back. Then again, it’s never far when you’re around. “Yeah?” you quirk, the tone saying: tell me all about it. “Mm.” “Thinking about me with another girl?” She breathes a laugh, then breathes in your scent, the smell causing her to hold your hips tighter.
“You gotta write my essay now, make it up to me.” Your laugh rattles against her body.
“What you on about? I gave you free material to think about.” “What?” she laughs, squinting her face together. She pulls away, and you look up at her, chewing on your bottom lip.
You glance down at her mouth, and a breath gets caught in her throat. “Nothing,” You grin, and she cocks her head to the side, tightening her grip on your waist. “No, tell me. You made fun of me, you gotta tell me.” “I don’t have to do anything, Ellie.” “I’ll get it outta you.” “Yeah, how?” “You won’t know until it happens.”
“Weirdo,” you scoff, pulling away. “Let me walk you home, they wanna do a group meeting about some charity event later.” “Ooo, little miss sorority girl.”
You smack her chest, “Hey!” but Ellie grabs your hand, laughing as she pulls you into her, catching your hips again. You gasp in surprise, hands catching hers, and your chest pushes into hers.
She feels you focus on the cavern of her eyebrow scar, then the dust of freckles over her nose. The wild brush of her eyebrows, and the small, circular, chickenpox scar on her cheek.
Ellie gets confident or forgets the proximity of your relationship — nothing new — and rests her forehead against yours.
The world gets quiet.
The buzz of your music fades out, and all Ellie can hear is the small, clipped, and shaky sound of your breathing.
Your eyes flutter closed for a brief second, and Ellie wants to kiss you. Always wants to kiss you, but this is different. This is new and sudden and sweet. It’s soft. Gentle.
Your fingers graze over hers, and she imagines holding you like this forever.
Imagines doing this, as often as she likes.
All you’ve done together, and you haven’t even kissed yet. Ellie gazes at your wet mouth.
“Wanna come to mine? We don’t even have to smoke; you can just help me with the intro to my essay.” Your lips twist, and a small smile appears. “Ellie,” you whisper, tinged with a double meaning. “What?” she asks, feigning innocence. “I can’t,” you whisper.
She breathes in deep, eyes closing as she presses her forehead against yours. “Not even for a second?” “Ellie.” “Please?” she whispers, looking at you, and your face falls. Your mouth opens an inch, the red of your tongue alluring. When you don’t respond, Ellie slowly dips lower and tentatively brushes her mouth against yours. Your breath catches.
The skin of your lips is pillow soft, and for the first time, she’s able to taste your lip gloss from the source.   “Doesn’t please get me anything I want?” Ellie hushes. The music has bled into the background, a hum in the walls of your room. It rattles through her toes and dances through her chest, forcing her heart to thrum with life. Your eyes are half-lidded, lashes brushing over your cheeks when you look at her mouth. “That was a one-time deal,” you manage to tease, despite the nerves radiating off of you. “So, I can’t kiss you?” “I never said that.”
Your tone is dangerous. Ellie’s lips quirk into a smirk. “I didn’t say please though?”
There’s a heated 30 seconds where you pluck up some courage. Ellie can hear the cogs turning in your pretty little head before you conclude that, “manners are overrated,” and press your cherry lips against hers, sticky and artificially sweet.  
The world stops in that movie magic kind of way.
Reality flutters to a pause, the music switches off, the natter from your roommates downstairs goes quiet, and Ellie can no longer hear the constant anxious beating of her heart.
It’s just you and your mouth – the press of your lips, no tricks, just the delicate touch of yours against hers.
Ellie is 15 again and playing truth or dare at that camp her uncle forced her to go to.
She’s picking dare and kissing Jessica Carter, the daughter of a man that owned a slew of Ice Cream shops in Salt Lake, and it means so much more to Ellie than it does to Jessica.
She feels the electricity of the kiss pulse throughout her body, like she’s got her soapy fingers in a light switch socket, and as she pulls away and Jessica laughs – giggles, cupping her wet lips, I can’t believe we just did that – Ellie feels the cavern in her chest close just an inch.
She was about to thank her, but then she thought better of it.
Pulling away now, there’s no Jessica, it’s you, and you’re pressing your fingers to your lips like you’re holding them out to a cat, nervous as to what’s going to happen next.
Ellie leans her forehead against yours, lips numb.
You’re breathing like you’ve run a marathon. Then you kiss her again.
Ellie stumbles back from the shock, but you move with her, guiding her back until her legs hit the bed frame.
She makes a quick decision – pulls away and gets back onto your bed, hoping you follow her down. Thankfully, you do – quirk a nervous smile and knee walk over to her, spreading your legs and clambering onto her lap.
You sit back on her thighs with your knees pressed against her hips.
The position is a memory re-lived, except this time, you’re both alert – no sleep to mask the feeling, just the nerves pulsating through your veins. New new new, it’s saying.
Ellie reaches out and steadies your hips.
Taking a shaky breath, she slips her thumbs under the fabric of your shirt and runs the length of your shorts. The skin there burns, heat radiating off of you like a furnace, and it’s as if you enjoy the touch, as you take Ellie’s hands and cup them with your own, keeping them against your skin, before dragging them around your hips.
Ellie catches your eyes, breath lodged in her throat.
It stays there while you run her fingers up and under your shirt, painstakingly moving her hands over your stomach, over your rib cage, and Ellie’s heart swells in her chest as the tips of her fingers feel the underwire of your bra.
Ellie can’t decide what she wants.
There are too many options – kiss you, undress you – and she so badly wants all of them all at once. When you finally drag her palms over your breasts, she feels your nipples pressing through the thin and lacey fabric, and her belly swirls, the pressure pushing low.
Your breath rattles in your chest. “You okay?” Ellie asks, and instead of answering, you bow down to kiss her.
This kiss is different. It’s desperate. Tinged with the need to tell Ellie it's okay, it's okay, as you slip your tongue in her mouth. She groans.
It’s deep and low, echoing around the room, and there’s a fleeting second where Ellie is embarrassed, but you swallow the sound down, hips reacting, pressing into her crotch.
Ellie aches with the memory of before.
She wants to tease you, wants to say, you gonna come like this again? but you drag your lips over to her neck, and she whines pathetically.
Oh fuck, she thinks. Ellie goes liquid, like syrup. She melts into the mattress, hands relax on your breasts, and just – lets you pepper kisses over her throat. Let’s you run your tongue under her jaw, and her hips buck in response. Jolt up into your crotch, and your breathing changes, now coming out in long, deep pulls.
You mark her neck with your mouth, and Ellie feels the suck of your lips in her gut. Her hands go exploring, sliding over your tits, and she rubs her thumbs over your nipples, listening for your breathing stutter.
When you mumble a desperate fuck, into her throat, Ellie suddenly wants you on your back.
She knocks the pair of you over, and you fall back onto your mattress, grinning up at Ellie with a wild smile. You take her in. Eyes flutter over her like butterflies, taking in her statue as she sits on top of you. Suddenly, though, your smile changes. Goes nervous.
“What does this mean for us?” you whisper, and Ellie shakes her head, moving to kiss you again. Now on top, she swells with the feeling of control.
“Don’t think about it,” she mumbles, then tastes cherry again.
Ellie’s a hypocrite because all she does is think about it.
Up all night in bed, thinking about it. Thinking about how she wants you as her girlfriend, but she hasn’t even taken you out on a date yet.
Doesn’t know about your family. Your friends. Doesn’t know your favourite movie, or colour. All she knows is your weed order. The thought makes her sick with shame.
The mumble of her name coming out of your lips brings her back.
You stuff her shirt in your hands, and Ellie wants it off.
Wants your hands all over her, wants to grind her hips into yours like you did hers, with your hands on her hips guiding her.
“Wanna see,” you mumble, tugging at her shirt, and Ellie’s skin prickles.
She drags her hips back, the seam of her jeans pushing against her crotch, and sits up straight. She grins, all teeth, then fists the shirt, pulling it up her chest. The lines of her muscles are revealed, along with a few white scars that dot her stomach and back. She’s wearing a casual cotton bra, but you look at her as if she’s donning silk. “So pretty,” you whisper, blinking up at her, and that shame that sat inside of her dispels. You slide your hands over her chest, and the warmth of them pushes into her bloodstream. “Pretty?” Ellie quirks, needing something to distract herself from the languid movement of your hands. You trail your fingers over her ribcage, then push your pointer up her breast bone, mouth open an inch, ignoring her, and Ellie’s limbs go jelly.
You’ve got your goddamn explorer hat on as you drag the base of your palm between her tits, your spare hand lazily rubbing her hip bone.
“What’re you doing?” she asks, words coming out as a breathy whisper. You flash a small smile, “committing you to memory.” A dangerous pressure builds in Ellie’s heart. Her cheeks bloom red, her skin prickles, and she feels light-headed, as if you’ve removed all the oxygen in the room.
You hook a finger around the elastic of her bra and tug her forward. Ellie catches herself on the mattress beside your head just as you kiss her, pushing your tongue into her mouth and crotch up into hers.
She shudders.
The kiss is all tongue, desperate, as she bumps her nose against yours to taste you. She’s preoccupied with your mouth, so she doesn’t notice your hand sliding between her thighs. When she does, she forgets how to kiss. “S-Shit,” Ellie stutters, caught off guard. Your touch is gentle, just, lazily rubbing your fingers into her jeans. There’s a lot of fabric between you, thus Ellie’s left the chase the friction.
Resting her forehead against yours, she clutches the sheets beside you, rolling her hips into your hand. She blinks at you, opening her eyes, and you’re staring at her like she’s an artwork – trying to memorise every brush stroke.
You bump your nose against hers, flexing your palm. Ellie hums again.
“You sure you wanna do that?” she jokes, clutching onto any semblance of sanity. You give her a lazy smile, lips wet with her spit. “’s ’only fair.
“Not –” Ellie starts, but chokes, your knuckle just hitting the top of her pussy. Her eyes flutter closed, mouth opening an inch, and you must sense the shift, because you keep your hand there, nodding, knowing what she was going to say before she said it.
“Gonna make you come 'cause I want to, not ‘cause I have to.” “Fuck – okay,” Ellie relents. There’s no way she’s going to leave in the middle of this. She can’t. She’d probably collapse mid-way. A pressure pushes between her thighs, hot and constant. Her pussy clenches around nothing and she whispers something. Sounds like your name.
Been a minute since she’d had a hand other than hers between her legs.
Ellie lazily chases your palm, thinking that If she moves too quickly, this moment will poof into a dream. Doesn’t want to scare it away.
To hide her red face, she nuzzles into your throat, roles reversed from that morning, except Ellie didn’t have her hand between your thighs. She tells herself it’s her turn to do that next.
You pop the button on her jeans, and Ellie glances down at your hands, seeing/feeling them tug at the band.
You turn into her head, “Jesus, these painted on or something?” and Ellie breathes a laugh, “Didn’t expect someone else taking them off.” “I need easy access from now on, only sweatpants.” “Noted.” Your smile goes silly, “preferably those grey ones you wore when I came over that time, when I made you dinner.” “Thought you liked those ones, caught you staring at my ass.” “No you did not.” Ellie kisses your neck, “It’s so sexy when you gaslight me.” You huff, “You gonna help me take them off, or watch me struggle?” and a slow grin builds across Ellie’s face. “Wanna see you work for it.” “Well, you’ll be watching for a while. Enjoy the show!” you joke, trying to drag the denim off of her hips. You grunt loudly, brow furrowed as you tug.
Finally, you throw your hands up with a huff, then pout and cross your arms. Ellie’s leaned back at this point, and she mimics your face.
“Defeated by The Gap,” Ellie sighs. “I’m gonna put in a complaint. Tell them that their stupid jeans stopped my girlf—” you catch yourself, eyes widening.
Ellie goes still.
There’s a second where she hears the crowd cheering in the background, but it turns out it’s a kid crying on the street outside.
“What did you just say?” she asks, tone filled with awe. She cannot help the shit-eating grin that splays across her face. It’s so big that you have to cover your face from the shine. “I said nothing.” “Um, I heard something.” “You didn’t hear anything.” “I heard the word girl and then an ‘F’ sound.” “You didn’t! I’m telling you; you’re hearing things. Going crazy.” “Ummmmmm,” Ellie drags, squinting down at you.
She tries to pull your hands away, but you won’t budge. “I heard something!” “I was going to say, girl fellow!” “Girl what?” Ellie laughs, eyes alight with humour.
“Yeah—” you start, pulling your hands away and masking your features. You’re a beacon of control.
“Girl fellow. It’s this new thing I coined. A girl who is a fellow, as in friend.” Ellie squints, “Fellow means boy, you weirdo.” “No it—” you frown. “Does it?” “Yes, have you not seen Robin Hood?” You pause, “No.” “Oh my god!” Ellie erupts. “How have you not seen Robin Hood? I used to be obsessed with it.” “Everything makes so much sense now.” “The fuck does that mean?”
You push your hands into her hips, fingers tickling. “Do you have a pointy bow and arrow at home? A little green hat?” “Shut up,” Ellie laughs, trying to bat your hands away. She catches them. “That makes so much sense,” you start, joking around, “You’re far too into social justice.” “How are you bullying me about world change? You just called me your girlfriend!” “Fellow!” you correct. “That means girl boy!” You grin triumphantly, “Welcome to the 21st century, Ellie.” She rolls her eyes, “you’re so annoying.” “Your jeans are annoying.” “My jeans are cute.” You point a finger at her, “I’m gonna fight your jeans.”
Ellie dips low and kisses you, mumbling into your mouth, “mm, my money’s on the jeans,” and you wrap your thigh around her ass, using it as leverage to roll her onto her back.
You suddenly slide down, standing at the edge of the bed and shoving your hands into the band of her trousers. With a determined look, you manage to pull them down, “fuck your jeans.”
They end up on the floor, and Ellie’s left in a pair of boxers and her bra. She’d clap for you if she wasn’t so suddenly dazed. You appear on top of her, and she automatically wraps her arms around your shoulders, humming contently as you kiss her.
When her brain comes back to reality, she manages to switch positions again, knees pressing beside your thighs. With a tentative touch, you trace your hand over her stomach, distracting her with the wet of your kiss.
When your fingers touch the band of her underwear, Ellie’s breathing changes. It’s all suddenly real.
“Wanna stop?” you breathe, tone sincere and gaze gentle. Despite the bubble in her chest, Ellie has never wanted to continue something more. She shakes her head, eager. “Fuck no.”
Your sweet giggle distills the tension. “Good,” you grin, sliding your fingers lower, “wanted to do this since I met you.”
The tips of your fingers drag over her clothed pussy, gentle and soft. Ellie releases a shaky breath.
There’s just a piece of flimsy cotton stopping you from skin on skin, but she’s so wet that it feels that way, anyway.
Her eyes flutter closed, the sensation lulling her, fueling her with dopamine, and she buries her head in the crook of your neck, flexing her hips to meet your hand.
You drag the corner of your knuckle up her clothed slit, pushing into her clit when you get to the top. Ellie groans quietly, and you grin into the side of her head, rolling your knuckle into her, and she moans.
“Fuck, s’good.” “Yeah?” you ask, and Ellie nods. Propelled by her quiet desperation, you twist your hand and push a finger against her damp clit – the wet fabric showing the lines of her pussy – and roll it gently.
The fabric in the way makes it dirtier, more desperate, and makes Ellie moan pathetically into your neck, forgetting you’ve got roommates. She chases your hand.
Hips stir up, wet heat coiling in her belly and pushing into her cunt. Is this what you felt? That morning in her apartment?
The fire is quick to rise, and it’s only been a couple of minutes of her grinding into your palm when her pussy clenches, heat pushing at the back of her clit.
“Mm,” she hums, inhaling a shaky breath. Her thighs begin to shake. “Baby, you’re gonna make me come,” she hushes into your ear, and she swears she hears you whimper. You turn to look at her, and pout, “Want it on my fingers, Ellie,” you admit, eyes innocent, wide with wonder, and Ellie’s jaw clenches.
Her hips lose their rhythm, and how the fuck is she in control right now? She doesn’t feel that way. Feels like she lost any semblance of control when you flipped her over and pulled her jeans off. “Fuck, okay. Okay. Shit. Take my – fuck,” she stumbles, and you push your fingers under the band of her underwear, asking, “Can I?” in such a pure tone that Ellie has to close her eyes and breathe through her nose. “Yeah baby,” she nods, “s’okay. Fuck. It’s okay.”
You drag your fingers through her pubic hair – eyes on her the whole time – before you stuff your pointer and index against her wet clit. You start to roll the nerve, and Ellie chokes on her spit. Her body shudders.
She’s in your goddamn dorm room in your sorority with your hand down her pants.
You’re watching her intently. Glazed eyes gazing at her features, fingers controlling the way her brows furrow and cheeks bloom red. It’s wholly intimate. Ellie’s slick coats your fingers.
“So hot, Ellie.”
Her body flushes – she has to bury her head in your neck again, where she nods. She grinds her cunt into your hand, forcing you to press harder and roll quicker. “Mm, fuck,” Ellie swears, spit dribbling over her lips, drunk on your fingers, “Fuck, m’ gonna come.” She feels the familiar pressure behind her clit, the heat that sears – almost painful. You twist into her, nodding, saying, “Give it to me El’s.” Then, “please.”
The wave rushes up and pulls her under, rendering her voiceless and still, before it crashes, and she gushes over your hand, chasing the spin of your fingers as she shakes. “Mm, god, god, shit” she whimpers, voice muffled by your neck, trying so hard to keep quiet, but fuck, she’s not in control of her body. She clenches the duvet as her pussy clenches and un-clenches, clit spasming, whole body slick with sweat.
Her hips grind into your fist, eyes rolled back, mumbling curses into your throat, and she’s clenching the duvet so tight that her knuckles go white.
Then someone calls your name.
You freeze. Fingers go still.
Ellie wants to cry, but somewhere in her drunk mind, she realises the severity of the situation.
When you don’t respond, your name gets called again.
“Fuck,” you curse, then “Ellie, baby, I’m sorry, you gotta get off of me.”
Ellie manages to find the energy to roll off of you, and you get up, legs stumbling before you reach the door.
“Y-Yeah?” you call out through the wood.
Ellie lays boneless on your bed, breathing deeply through her nose. Her boxers are pushed low, pubic hair on show, but she doesn’t have the power to sort herself out.
She should be nervous at the idea of being caught, but fuck, her clit still throbs with the memory of your fingers. She languidly blinks at the ceiling, trying to calm her heart.
How the fuck did that just happen?
“Meeting soon, you coming?” the faceless voice calls, and you mumble a curse before saying, “Yeah! Gimmie a minute.”
When you turn to her, Ellie’s already gazing at you. You quirk a small, sad smile, and Ellie nods, understanding.
“Lemme just,” she starts, rubbing her face, “find the energy.” You giggle at her. “Let me help you put your stupid jeans on.” Ellie props herself up by her elbows, beaming, “My top down there, too?” “Got it.”
She manages to shove her jeans on, wincing when she knocks her sensitive clit. You eye her.
“Listen, I—” you start, clearly flustered. You motion to her, “—Would take better care of you after but.” “Whoa – what?” Ellie cuts you off, shoving her shirt on with a frown.
You purse your lips, “like, cook you dinner or kiss your forehead or something.” “You’ve already cooked me dinner, and you can kiss my forehead whenever you want.” “I mean. I don’t usually make a girl come and then dip.” “Oh,” Ellie frowns, “But this is different.” You pout, “Still feel bad.” “Don’t,” Ellie firmly spouts. She takes your hands and kisses your forehead. “I feel good, you should feel good.” “It was good?” you ask, suddenly lit up and eager to hear more. Ellie laughs. Her body is filled with a warm, buttery feeling. She’s still drunk on you, lethargic from coming, and she doesn’t have the space to panic.
Her subconscious tries to tell her everything that has happened that should cause her concern.
She nearly called you her girlfriend, then made you come on her double bed with a flowery bedspread. Now she feels bad because she doesn’t have enough time to give you adequate aftercare. Dude.
Still, Ellie shows no alarm when she kisses your forehead and says, “I’ll call you.”
It’s only when she gets home, looks in the mirror and sees her lips glittery with your lip-gloss, that reality sets in.
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kisses4reid · 5 months
Text
big change | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,
summary - cutting spencer’s hair results in more than just a ‘big change’ appearance wise.
genre - fluff!!!!! cutesy yearning
warnings - idk u scared of haircuts?? scissors??? kissing?? (barely edited btw)
a/n - sometimes i black out and write a fanfic and then find it later on and then i’m like shit this kinda fire and then i edit it and then i post it and then-
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You roll your chair over to Spencer’s desk after much staring, and rest an elbow on a low stack of manila folders. Your sneakers squeak as you slow yourself, causing a visible flinch from the long haired boy.
His brunet hair was flicked up at the ends which touched his shoulders, the front pieces tucked behind his ears. As he lifted his gaze, hard expression softening immediately, you whispered, “I know your secret.”
His smile jolted, heart beat quickening. You had a cheeky smile on, hair twirling between your fingers, talking so low. You couldn’t possibly know his secret.
“Oh yeah, what’s that?” He asked, placing his pen down and turning to give you his full attention.
“You don’t know how to cut your hair.” His long hair suited him, you thought he looked as handsome as he did on your first day of work how many years ago. The day Spencer fell in love.
Dumbfounded, Spencer replied with a pout, “I know how to cut my hair.”
You raised an eyebrow, and suddenly he was aware of the jagged lines and length of his hair, and how he was now bringing hair ties with him everywhere. Which was actually convenient for all female members of the team. He had to admit, it was inconvenient at times, and it wasn’t his favourite to deal with or to look at. He looked back into your sparkling expecting eyes, smiled softly, and continued, “You should cut it for me.”
You lifted your head from your palm and raised your eyebrows, a pink flush ghosting your cheeks. The offer was innocent, it was a favour, but something about it felt so domestic in your head that you couldn’t help but smile hard, cheeks pressing, “Yeah, of course.”
You pushed off his desk and returned to yours, though his gaze never left your sunny appearance.
The next day, you were knocking on a familiar apartment door, rocking on your sneaker heels, eyes wandering anywhere but where you thought Spencer would be when he opened the door. But even when he did open his door, after a thud and small ‘ow’, you couldn’t help but look at him and savour the last moments with his long hair.
He had a navy blue sweater over a white t-shirt, some sweatpants that looked more formal from afar, and mis-match socks on. You gulped and stepped into his apartment, taking everything in as if you hadn’t been there before.
You took off your light purple scarf and placed it on the kitchen counter, along side the small hair cutting kit you had gotten a few years ago (you couldn’t afford a hair cut before your first day at the BAU, it was a diy emergency).
The apartment was dark and cosy, cabinets a rich wood tone, countertops squeaky clean, couches plush and thrifted. You two often talked about the best thrift stores to visit, you had even planned to go to one together one day. As Spencer pulled a wooden bar stool into the kitchen to sit on, you tied your own hair up, reminding yourself of why you were here.
He smelt amazing, like a new book and burnt marshmallow, and as he gazed into your eyes waiting for you to speak, a cat caught your tongue. You were alone in this warm apartment, only the soft music of Spencer’s old playlist in the background, and a heart beating that you weren’t sure was yours or his.
“Um- Okay. Do you have a reference photo or?”
“Yeah,” he pulled his phone out of his back pocket and showed you a reference photo. It was like he wanted to be a boy band member, and as you imagined him with it, you couldn’t be happier.
He got nervous watching your reaction, it was a very drastic change. You placed his phone on the counter top next to your hair kit, his eyes following your every move like if he blinked you would dissipate. And when a small smile ghosted your face, he felt a weight being lifted off his shoulders.
"I like it."
"Good."
You leaned close to Spencer, your heat radiating onto him, to pull a lever on his chair to lower him to your eye level. A spray bottle appeared in your hand while the other covered Spencer's brown eyes. Suddenly, cold sprits of water caused Spencer to flinch every time he heard the trigger fire, causing you to giggle lightly. "It's just water." "I didn't get any warning though." He replied sheepishly. He couldn't hear much over his heartbeat, or see much other than you.
The next 15 minutes was spent in radio music and being surrounded by your sweet perfume, trying not to grab you or touch you as much as he wanted to. You were stood in front of him now, eyes focused on his bangs and the hair around his ears, scissors and comb in hand, and he couldn't stop gazing into your eyes like a little boy looking at the stars.
You were utterly gorgeous, beautiful, unreal. Spencer often wondered, especially at the start of your relationship, how nobody else had tried to date you in the team, or in general. But as the two of you grew closer, he realised you were telling everyone no. You were waiting for someone, and it made his heart break everytime he remembered your words.
If only he knew. Your hands jittered slightly, feeling insecure at his hard gaze that you simply couldn't ignore. You hoped in the dim lighting he couldn't see your red cheeks or steep breaths, or that he could. You hoped you never finished cutting his hair, and you thought of other ways you could stay this close. He was tall, warm, comfortable. He was smart, caring, clean. He was Spencer, who wouldn't want to stay with him? A gulp escaped you, and he ripped his eyes off of yours, looking down to avoid your eyes and to see the damage.
There was piles of hair beneath your feet now, and he smiled at the sight.
"Spencer, stop moving your head. I couldv'e cut off your eyebrows." Your laugh filled the apartment, and he looked back up at you.
He hadn't realised how far you had gotten, your eyes scanning his hair for any improvements before a small smile of approval appeared on your cheeks. A breath escaped him. You turned to close your kit. He stood up and placed a hand on the front of your neck, turning your head, and planting his lips on yours.
You squeaked in surprise, quickly kissing back as his hands traveled to your cheeks, holding onto you like you were the only girl in the world. Your fingertips splayed on his chest, you pulled away only to be followed for another kiss, only broken up by a millisecond of a breath.
You opened your eyes and pushed him softly away, noticing the lipstick now stained on his lips and around them. The dim kitchen was spinning, your chest was heaving, and your heart was racing a million beats per minute. You even got a little light-headed before Spencer took his hands from your face and rest them on your waist.
He was much taller now that he wasn't sat, and he looked even more handsome with the haircut you had given him. For a second you thought you were hallucinating. Spencers eyes played between your lips and your eyes, before meeting you in the middle once again. He lifted you slightly, kissing you with movements full of yearning and passion, slowly with multiple breaths in the middle to give you time to reject him (which he expected), but you never did.
You put one hand on his cheek as he pulled away. He smiled widely at you, taking the enthusiasm back as a good sign. He didn't totally fuck up. You whispered, "You kiss your barbers often?" He replied with a cheeky smile, "Only you."
taglist: @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es
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cobaltperun · 4 months
Note
hi ! can you please write an angsty fic with a happy ending with gn!reader x tara or cairo your choice where t or c breaks up with r and r becomes a fuckgirl and t or c gets jealous. there could be some sort of conversation along the lines of r saying “how i chose to get over you is none of your business” and t or c responding “don’t” totally okay if you don’t want to or are not comfortable !! <3
(Don't) Let Go
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Cairo Sweet x Female Reader (Request)
Masterlist
A/N: I usually keep this for the end, but two things, Anon added a correction, from GN! to Female Reader, so just pointing that out to clear potential confusion. Second, this depicts some unhealthy coping mechanisms, so I just want to say, do not follow R's example. Also, Anon, hope this is what you wanted 😁😁
Word count: 1.8k
She watched you from afar, her eyes narrowed, hand gripping the glass of wine so hard she was surprised it didn’t shatter and a frown that told her company not to interact with her unless necessary. You were drunk, dancing with a girl you were flirting with, your hands were on her hips, and her back was pressed against you as the two of you laughed. Tonight’s distraction. It didn’t escape her attention that this girl was a blonde, tall, green eyes, with plenty of make-up, though she could see she was still fairly pretty. Last night you went to the apartment of some red-head the night before that, some other girl with a tattoo who dyed her long wavy hair some ridiculous shade of orange to look like some anime character. The point was, each night you chose a girl that was the exact opposite of her and while Cairo wasn’t jealous, she hated seeing you like this.
Did she have the right to complain though? She broke up with you, she ruined yet another relationship. She ruined everything she touched.
It’s been a few years since she ruined her friendship with Winnie, since she thought she found her love in Miller and was disappointed and in a way betrayed. And she could never trust again, but you somehow broke through her shell, offering company she didn’t even realize she was craving.
It wasn’t like she was following you, or keeping tabs on where you were, or who you were sleeping with, it just so happened that the group she just finished a big college assignment with wanted to celebrate so they made her go with them. And the other two she knew about? Rumors, mainly, though she did catch sight of you with the girl, who lived a block away from Cairo, last night.
What were you doing? You weren’t ruining your life, entirely at the very least, you still managed to keep up with the classes, but you were drunk for most of the day, and if you weren’t drunk, you were hungover. Why did you break up again?
Oh, yeah, because she wasn’t ready to fully commit to the relationship, afraid of getting burnt again, and chose the worst possible option. She just ended it all, over a text, no conversation, no explanation, she just sent the message and blocked you everywhere. She couldn’t ask for forgiveness, though she greatly regretted what she did. She couldn’t watch you take that girl to your apartment, or go to her apartment, though.
So, she said goodbye to the group she came to the bar with and made her way toward you through the crowd of drunk partying people wasting away their free time. “Y/N,” she called out to you over the loud music and she watched as you staggered back, your eyes gaining some clarity as you recognized her.
“Cairo,” you slurred, your hand falling from the blonde’s hips.
“Come with me,” she didn’t wait for you to respond, she didn’t wait for the surprised, and a bit to drunk to understand what was going on, blonde to catch up with what was going on either. She just grabbed your hand and pulled you along. And you let her drag you to the counter and pay for your and hers bill and dragged you outside to look for a cab.
“What are you doing? I was having fun in there,” you leaned against the lamppost, barely standing and not even looking as the bright lights probably made your head hurt.
“By ruining your liver?” Cairo snarked, much more annoyed than she hoped she would be. This wasn’t her business, even if she stopped you tonight what was she supposed to do? Babysit you until you got your shit together? She didn’t have time for that.
A voice in the back of her head told her she was probably the one who pushed you toward this behavior. Her consciousness, perhaps?
“None of your damn business,” you glared at her and she hated seeing that look in your eyes directed at her.
“Right, get in,” she dragged you along as the cab pulled up and she gave the driver her address.
It took her a while, but she managed to get you to her apartment and to the sofa in her living room. She took your shoes off and pretty much pushed you to lie down before she went to get a blanket. When she came back you were already asleep, and she wondered how you managed to actually fuck any of those girls when you were this drunk?
She wasn’t jealous. She just wondered.
She made her decision, she broke up with you.
She still found herself thinking about you every now and then, because truly, you didn’t deserve it. You treated her right, better than anyone before you, that was for sure, you didn’t quite share her interests, but you were more than willing to listen, to grow by experiencing them with her. She could count on you if she wanted a thought-provoking debate, or a passionate night. She could talk for hours with you, or be perfectly comfortable in complete silence.
And she ended it.
And she thought it didn’t matter to her, but as she watched you sleeping there all the times you spent together came back and she… she wanted to fix things, to get a second chance, to make it work this time. And if anyone asked, no, a tear didn’t fall from her eye as you mumbled her name.
~X~
You woke up with a pounding headache, expecting to see a blonde next to you on the bed. Instead you were hit with the smell of spring field, the scent Cairo used when washing her clothes and everything else. You blinked at that and groaned, burying your face in the pillow. The books surrounded you, on the shelf, on the coffee table, everywhere and you only knew one person that had this kind of apartment…
“Damn it,” you cursed, tempted to just walk out and pretend this didn’t happen.
“Damn it, indeed,” and so much for that plan, you turned to the side, toward her bedroom doors and saw her, just as beautiful, enchanting even, as she was the last time you saw her. Before she went and broke up with you over a text and blocked you on everything. And then promptly refused to even acknowledge you existed despite your attempts to at least talk to her to make sure you didn’t hurt her somehow.
“Cairo,” you sighed, sitting up slowly to avoid making the headache even worse.
“Y/N,” she nodded, walking over to the kitchen and bringing you a glass of water and aspirin.
You just watched her, frankly curious and suspicious at the same time. What was her deal? Breaking up with you like that and now acting like this. So, once you downed the aspirin and water, you turned your attention, or as much of it as your headache allowed to Cairo. “What are you doing?”
She sat down in the armchair to your left and you were reminded of all the times you’d spend here, working on some assignment, together, or separately, not really caring as long as you were together. “Babysitting you, sine you clearly can’t help but get drunk and fuck any girl that doesn’t look like me,” she sounded like she had the guts to actually accuse you of doing that, and sure, it was true, and you would be the first to admit it wasn’t the healthiest coping mechanism but…
“How I choose to get over you is none of your business,” you bit out, feeling the anger and frustration from the month that passed since she broke up with you reaching a boiling point.
“Don’t,” she suddenly said.
And you stopped, flabbergasted by her response. “Don’t what?”
“Get over me,” she dared to say, and you laughed, looking away from her in utter disbelief.
‘Don’t get over her’ that was what she said? After all this time that was what she was telling you? That she sort of regretted breaking up with you.
“Are you for real right now? You sent me a text, blocked me and then acted like I didn’t exist!” you raised your voice, angry at her.
“I know,” she nodded, not even looking for an excuse.
You snorted. “You know? No, that’s amazing, you are unbelievable, you know? You really expect me to run into your arms? After everything?” you demanded.
Cairo shook her head, but you saw her biting her lower lip. “Y/N, I made a mistake, I apologize. I shouldn’t have hurt you like that,” the cracks in her unbreakable mask appeared, and she closed her eyes, missing the surprise on your face. “I was afraid of getting hurt again.”
So, she hurt you instead, before you could hurt her. She told you, on one long night, what happened to her, with Miller and her best friend, and as much as she hurt you, you somewhat understood her fear. “Do you have any idea how many times I got slapped or just kicked out because I called a girl your name? No matter how different they looked? You’re all I can fucking see,” you still loved her, because as much as she hurt you the time you spent together was some of the best time of your life, you thought she was the one. “How can I trust you not to do this again?”
Cairo looked at you, surprised, tears filling her eyes though she tried to hold them back. “I can’t blame you if you choose not to trust me again, I probably wouldn’t be able to trust you if our positions were switched,” she confessed.
You reluctantly opened your arm and gestured for her to come closer, and though surprised she did. She sat down next to you and hugged you, her hands wrapping around you tightly as you hugged her back. It still felt right. This. Being in each other’s arms.
“I need a bit of time, I need to take it slow if you want to give this, us, another chance,” you said, knowing that you couldn’t keep destroying yourself over this, and that maybe, much like her actions poisoned your life, they could be the antidote you needed.
Cairo nodded. “As much time as you need, I’ll be right here waiting,” she promised, the conviction in her voice made you believe that maybe, just maybe, reconsidering this relationship wouldn’t be the worst outcome you could imagine.
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concreteangel92 · 3 months
Text
Lesson’s Learned
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Noah Sebastian x female reader
18+
Warnings: spanking, degrading and praise, oral (female receiving) Noah being his usual brat tamer self, dom/sub relationship
So this idea started from the clip of Noah using the towel on Nick at one of their shows a few months ago, I started writing but didn’t get far into it before I had huge writers block so I left it and almost forgot about it completely! However when I found it last week, I found the inspiration to finish it and it’s definitely longer than I originally planned haha Hope you all enjoy!
Tags: @reyadawn @bluestdai
MASTERLIST
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Noah was one hundred percent an ass man, everyone knows this. He can never keep away from yours for too long, and you’re no stranger to getting a spank as you walk past him, no matter if it’s a gentle tap or harder.
Now you see him with his back to you at the sink doing the dishes, towel left forgotten on the kitchen side and one intrusive thought that you couldn’t ignore.
You quietly picked up the towel, stalked a bit closer while you rolled it up in your hands and you flicked the towel at Noah’s backside, earning a surprised gasp as he turned around to see you giggling.
“Hey!
You laughed at his surprised face, and flicked the towel at his chest while giggling, Noah laughing with you while reaching for the towel that you brought back to your chest.
“You really want to be careful baby, if I get hold of that, you’re in trouble”
“What’s the matter? Scared I could spank better than you?”
Noah stalked closer to you with a small smirk.
“You really believe that?”
You giggled and went to flick him again but his reflexes were too quick and he grabbed the towel and pulled you into his chest and held you to him.
“So my little angel wants to act up? You know what happens when you do that”
You couldn’t help yourself, you needed to push him just a bit more.
“Aww did I bruise that little ego of yours by suggesting you’re shit at spanking?”
You watched as Noah’s mouth fell open slightly and his eyes darkened.
“You really want to push me today don’t you? How about I remind you of how good I can be? Living room. Now”
You turned and started walking to the lounge but let out a loud shriek when you felt Noah smacking your ass with the towel hard. You turned and saw a huge smirk on his face.
“That’s how you use a towel baby. Now keep walking”
You walked into the living room and Noah sat down on the sofa and rested back, opening his lap up to you. As you were wearing a dress today, you lied straight down across his lap and got yourself comfortable and raised your hips slightly while Noah gently lifted your dress up over your hips.
“You really do have the perfect ass baby, how did I get so lucky? It’s going to look even better when it’s red and bruised”
That last part that he whispered in your ear had you clenching on nothing.
“Now I think 20 will be enough to teach you a lesson today”
“20?”
Noah’s hand stroked over your cheeks before he pulled your underwear slowly down your legs.
“Did I stutter? You’re going to be a good girl for me and count every single one, miss and we start again. If you do as you’re told then I’ll make sure you get rewarded, act up again…”
Noah didn’t need to finish his sentence, you knew his meaning, he would deny you for an extremely long time as punishment.
The next thing you felt was Noah’s large hand smacking down on your ass cheek hard, making you jump and gasp out.
“One”
The second smack came down on the opposite cheek but definitely still as hard.
“Two”
Noah then decided to come down quicker on each cheek in turn, falling into his own rhythm, the sounds echoing around the room, the stinging that you felt due to his heavy hand was already starting to become prominent, and you loved it.
“Seven. Eight!”
You moaned at the hotness you felt on your backside, Noah took a moment to run his hand over your skin, no doubt admiring his work. The feeling of his fingers so close to your core had you clenching, your thighs twitching at his touch.
“Is my little brat enjoying this? It’s meant to be a punishment”
Two more smacks followed his words and you just about called out “Nine! Ten!”
You bawled your fists together and raised your hips up slightly, almost willing him to reward you for being half way with no mistakes, which was becoming a bit of a struggle.
Suddenly you felt Noah spread your thighs apart, no doubt seeing the slick coating that had dripped out of you. He ran his fingers gently over your folds, his arm rubbing against the burning skin on your ass causing a mixture of pain and pleasure.
“Look at my dirty girl, you’re dripping and making such a mess”
You felt Noah slip his fingers in, the sudden stretch making your hips jolt. Noah worked himself in while keeping you spread apart with a hand on your thigh. You let out a huge groan and felt yourself clenching around him while you raised your hips up to meet his fingers.
“This is what you do to me baby, I’m meant to be teaching you a lesson but you’re so tempting that here I am, giving you a reward, aren’t I so good to you princess?”
His words were filled with such beautiful degradation as he carried on thrusting his fingers in, it was a torturous pace that was driving you insane.
“Yes you’re so good to me, always so good to me!”
Noah hummed in approval, you could feel your stomach getting tighter, when Noah suddenly pulled his fingers out and smacked down, harder than before with a relentless pace of spanking on your already scarlet cheeks which you tried your best to keep up with.
“Sixt..Seventeen!”
His smacks stopped.
“What was that angel?”
You had tears form in the corner of your eyes as you cried out “Seventeen! I said Seventeen!”
Noah once again stroked your raw skin, the burning igniting something within your core.
“You sure about that? I’m pretty certain you nearly lost count”
“No, I didn’t, I swear I’m still being a good girl for you sir”
Your nickname for him caused you feel his cock twitch underneath your stomach.
“I’ll let it go just this once, seeing as you’re being such a good girl for me”
You nodded your head and raised your hips up again, the temptation to squeeze your thighs together was so strong, anything to relieve the pressure but you knew Noah wouldn’t take kindly to that so you waited.
“Let’s finish this then, three more spanks baby and then I’ll give you a reward, but they will be hard angel, got to make sure you’ve learned your lesson yes?”
“Yes Noah, please!”
The feeling of Noah’s cupped hand against your ass, harder then before, was now verging on painful but fuck me did it fuel you, you counted each smack and let out a choked moan on the very last one.
“Twenty!…fuck!”
Your thighs were twitching, you felt your core dripping and you could have cried with the need for relief as you tried to control your breathing.
Noah gently ran his hand over the raw, red skin of ass, soothing away the pain he’d just inflicted.
“There’s my good girl, fuck you did so good for me angel. You took your punishment so well, always my best girl”
The praise had you blushing and the stinging was hurting beautifully under his touch. Noah helped you kneel up to his level and brought you in for a kiss by your throat, it was messy and only made you crave him more.
“Good girls get their reward baby, let’s get this off you”
You felt Noah slip your dress up over your shoulders and he guided you down on the sofa and rearranged himself so he was in between your open thighs.
“Fuck baby, is that all for me?”
You felt Noah use his fingers to spread your lips apart, his eyes almost glazing over with his own lust.
“Only for you”
Noah let out a groan before he dived straight in and started to devour you. He raised your legs up to your chest with his hands while he used his tongue on your clit and folds.
You cried as your hands reached out, one went into his hair and one on the sofa to anchor yourself down, Noah wasn’t messing around, he was eating you out like a man who’d been starved, once Noah had gripped your thighs up with one hand, he brought his other down so he could slip his fingers into you once again.
“Oh my…fuck…Noah!”
You felt your orgasm approaching fast, Noah not letting up in any way, his fingers moved fast and his mouth and tongue worked over your sensitive clit. Your thighs started shake violently as your stomach twisted itself tighter and tighter, you couldn’t hold back your cries as you felt yourself on the edge.
“Fuck….I’m going to…going to…”
Feeling Noah’s fingers do the come hither motion inside mixed with his tongue was all you needed to fall into complete ecstasy and scream out his name while your legs smashed around his head.
Noah let you ride out your high and only stopped when you pushed his head away. Glancing down you saw his blown out pupils looking back at you with his chin covered in your own juices.
Noah brought himself up to your level and gave you a lazy kiss, making certain that you tasted every part of yourself before pulling back.
“Still think you can spank better than me baby?”
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peterman-spideyparker · 9 months
Text
Labels (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader)
Author’s Note: Hi! So, I've kinda put myself on a writing hiatus for a while and, in turn, have limited my time on Tumblr as of late. I was/still kind of am feeling uninspired in terms of writing and ideas, but this one came easily, and it needed to be written and shared before the excitement left me. I still have a million other stories and ideas I want to get going on, but for now, I hope you enjoy this one. :)
Summary: One evening when Matt tries to surprise you with a home cooked dinner date, he's stunned by something you've done for him.
Warnings: Sweet adorable fluff. No use of (Y/N), but it does refer to the reader being feminine/female-identifying
Other Characters: Karen Page
Word Count: 1,158
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“Hello?” you say over the phone, very clearly distracted by whatever is in front of you.
“Hi, angel,” Matt smiles, feeling a weight off of his shoulders when he finally hears your voice when you pick up your desk phone.
“Matt.” The way you say his name lights him up inside. It’s alway so warm, so inviting, so smooth—like when butter spreads perfectly even on a piece of toast. The gentleness of each consonant and vowel that escapes your lips never fails to chip away and brush off the stress of whatever is weighing him down; from his day job to his nightly activities, you—every last bit of you, is his solace.
“I was half afraid that I’d get your answering machine,” he breathes as he leans back in his chair, listening to how you move the receiver from one ear to the other.
“I’m sorry, Matt. Today has just been hectic. Meetings, email approvals, we rearranged some furniture because no one was responding to emails—.”
“Sweetheart, you don’t need to apologize.”
“I do if it means I worried you. I mean, I must have missed calls and texts on my cell from you if you resorted to my landline.”
“No, not worried. I was just curious if you wanted to go out to dinner tonight. Maybe try that new Italian place that opened up a few blocks from your apartment.”
“I didn’t know there was a new restaurant opening.”
“Yeah,” he lies. “It’s a small place. Intimate, nice.”
“Well, I don’t know how I could say no to that. It sounds like the perfect thing to make me forget today.”
“Take deep breaths, sweetheart. You’ll get through it. I’m here for you.”
“I know,” you breathe. “Listen, I need to get back to work, but I’ll see you tonight.”
“I’ll pick you up at six.”
“Perfect. I love you, Matt.”
“Love you, too.”
You exchange soft goodbyes before hanging up the phone, Matt sliding his cell back into the pocket of his slacks.
“Hey, Karen?” he calls out.
“Yeah?” she responds, sounding as if she’s lost in thought with whatever is at hand.
“What time is it?”
She pauses. “Almost 2:30.”
“You think that you and Foggy will be okay for the rest of the day?”
“I think so.”
“Great,” he says with a smile, standing up and putting on the suit jacket that was hanging on the back of his chair. “I’m heading out. I need to get some groceries to surprise my girlfriend.”
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Matt undoes the last of your door’s locks as the bag of groceries rests on his hips, relieved when the heavy piece of wood starts to swing open. For as frustrating as your day was, Matt secretly hopes that you won’t come home early and catch him in the middle of his surprise; it took him a lot longer to get everything he needed at the store, throwing off his timing. He’d be lucky if he got everything plated by the time you got home. Matt lets out a deep breath as he places the bag of groceries on the counter and takes his glasses off, centering himself to focus on the plan and not let his race against the clock shake him too much. After hanging his jacket on the hooks by the door, he rolls up his sleeves and throws his tie over his shoulder before taking out his phone, tapping at the screen until he finds the recipe he saved for tonight.
As his phone reads off the list of ingredients, he feels over what he grabbed, cursing when he notices that he’s missing garlic powder.
“She has to have some,” he hums. He knows you like to cook, always eager to try new recipes that you find while scrolling on your phone, and therefore always getting new spices and ingredients to make sure your kitchen is stocked for whatever the next interesting dish brings. Lucky for Matt, you two are always over each other’s place, craving one another’s presence, so he knows your apartment almost as well as he knows his own. Turning around to the skinny cabinet where Matt knows you keep your spices, he opens it up and prepares his nose for the strong mix of smells that are about to hit him so he can sniff out what he needs. As his hand extends into the cabinet, what he doesn’t expect to find is small bumps over each and every label. It’s odd, but familiar. Grabbing one of the spices in the front, he carefully takes it off the shelf and runs his fingers over the bumps once more.
Nutmeg.
Matt lets out a shaky breath, tears stinging at his eyes. He reaches up for container after container, running his fingers over all of the labels, finding that he’s able to read them all. By the time Matt grabs the garlic powder, the cabinet is practically empty and he’s crying in the kitchen.
“Matt?” he hears you call tentatively. He didn’t even hear you come in, and now you’re at his side, wrapping him in a hug and holding him close to soothe him. God, he loves when you hold him. Call it being touch-starved, but nothing felt better to Matt than when you have your arms around him. Sure, being in your apartment is comforting—your smell surrounding him and engulfing his senses, but nothing was better than the actual thing, your body against his, skin to skin. “Matty, is everything okay?”
“Uh, yeah,” he sniffles, holding you close and kissing your forehead. “It’s just, uh, well this.”
You pull back slightly from his hug and wipe away some of his tears before peeking down to see what’s in his hands.
“Garlic powder?” you try. “Is it bad?”
“No, no,” he smiles, wiping away some stray tears with the heel of his hand. “It’s great.”
“I thought we were going out to dinner tonight. But with all my spices out, something tells me you might have fibbed.”
“I did fib. I wanted to surprise you with dinner, especially after hearing about your day, but you’re the one that surprised me.” Taking your hand, he gently guides your fingers over the label to where the braille is.
“Oh.” Matt listens to how the blood rushes to your cheeks and how your heart rate picks up. “The label.”
“The label,” he echos softly.
“I finally found a good braille label maker that I liked,” you begin to explain. “I mean, we’re always at each other’s place. I wanted to make my home feel a little more homey for you.”
“You really love me, huh?”
He listens to how you smile from ear to ear. “So much more than you’ll ever know, Matty.”
Putting the garlic powder down, he takes your face in his hands and pulls you in for a deep kiss, your arms happily snaking around him and holding him close.
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bunnliix · 4 months
Text
When Eight Becomes Nine - Chapter Six
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okie so I might have lied about getting this done today. But here it is! I honestly loved writing this chapter, cause it's fun to write the dynamic between Wooyoung and y/n
Pairing: Ateez x 9th member!reader  Summary: Y/n meets the omegas of Skz, and then has dance practice with Yunho and San! wc: 1.4k AU: a/b/o  Genre: Fluff/Angst  warnings: yelling, lots of yelling, Woo being dramatic, lots of cursing because yes, derogatory language (whore), angst, and I think that's it?? lemme know if I need to add any other warnings! masterlist
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“Where are we going, Wooyoung-ssi?” Y/n asked the idol as she was dragged out of the company.
“I already told you! We’re going to meet up with Han and Felix!” Wooyoung told her, like it was common sense.
The slightly taller man, by like maybe an inch, pulled her behind him as they walked, or were dragged in y/n’s case, down the road to the next block, where a quiet cafe sat. The two omegas entered, finding it almost void of people, except for two people sitting in the back. Wooyoung lit up once he saw the two, almost sprinting towards the two of them, y/n along for the ride once again.
“You’re here!” He shouted, gaining their attention. 
“Wooyoung-hyung!” One of the two called out to him, pulling his mask off to reveal a smile on his face.
The older omega pulled y/n down with him into the empty chairs, before introducing her to the idols in front of her. “Han, Felix, this is y/n. She’s one of the auditionees for the ninth member of Ateez. I may have stolen her from practice.”
Felix ignored Wooyoung’s words for the most part. “ Hi y/n, I’m Felix. Though I have a feeling you already knew that. It’s really nice to meet you regardless.” He smiled at y/n, and she couldn’t help but smile in return, it was contagious.
“Yah! Felix, don't go stealing my omega! She’s mine. Not yours.” Wooyoung intervened as he watched the two of them. He was not letting the Stray Kids steal her from him, even if he loved the two younger omegas. Y/n was his, and if he had his way, she’d be their ninth member. He didn’t want anyone else, despite not having seen any of her skills. But Hongjoong looked pleased with her, so that means something good. And unless she had no rhythm and two left feet, they could teach her to dance.
“Hello, it’s nice to meet you y/n.” Han said, a bit shyer than either Wooyoung or Felix. Which was fine with the sole female omega in the group of four, as she didn’t mind another quieter person. She had enough loud people with just the man next to her. 
“How are you both?” She asked them, knowing they have a comeback coming up, she’s a Stay too, there was no way not to be a StayTiny with the friendship between the two groups.
“I’m good! Busy, but good.” Felix replied, smiling at her still. Han nodded along, focused on his phone. He seemed to be reading something on his phone. She didn’t mind, it was probably Stray Kids related, which is totally fair, she may not understand it like Wooyoung probably did, but she could understand being busy because of an upcoming event.
“You guys have a comeback coming up, right? How’s the preparation for that going?” She asked them, “And no pressure if you can’t say anything, I get it.”
“Ah yeah, we’re not really supposed to say much about it. Sorry.” Felix said, apologizing.
“No apologies needed, I figured as much, but still wanted to ask. I know comebacks are secretive and such. Well outside of what is shared with fans in the lead up to release day.” She replied, nodding her head.
Suddenly, fingers were squeezing her cheek. “You’re so cute, I just wanna eat you.” Wooyoung said from right next to her.
“Please don’t eat me, I don’t think we need a news article about you secretly being some sort of cannibal.” 
“I- yah! I am not a cannibal!” Wooyoung cried.
“Then why do you want to eat me? Besides, it could be worse, you could be a kidnapping cannibal. Oh wait, you are.” Y/n jokes, suddenly having a burst of confidence.
That sparked laughter from Felix and Han, causing y/n to laugh as well, as Wooyoung looked at all of them and pouted.
“I thought we were friends.” The eldest man whined, crossing his arms as the three omegas continued giggling.
“You’re so fucking mean. This isn’t fair. How dare you corrupt my baby!” He continued to whine.
“They met me thirty minutes ago, how did they corrupt me? And when did I become your baby?” Y/n questioned, looking at the omega next to her in confusion.
“They just did! And when I met you, duh.” Wooyoung said, like it was common knowledge.
“Wooyoung, you’re an idiot.” Felix said, in a very deadpan way.
“Felix, we gotta go. Chan needs us back at the company.” Han interrupted, looking back and forth between Felix and his phone.
There were many awws, but Felix and Han rose up out of their seats.
“Next time, we’ll make sure to have free time so we can chat? And we’ll get your number off of Wooyoung!” Felix promised y/n as they left the cafe.
“Awwww, I thought we’d get longer with the two of them.” Wooyoung pouted once again.
“Well, they are prepping for a comeback next month, I don’t expect them to not be busy.” She said, knowing that these times would be busy, and was surprised they managed to get any free time at all, being weeks away from a comeback.
“I don’t wanna go back yet.” Wooyoung just wouldn’t stop whining, though he was interrupted by his phone ringing.
“What Hongjoong-hyung?” The omega said.
“I don’t wanna come back. And why does she have to practice?”
“Fine. But you owe me a coffee.” Wooyoung said as he hung up the phone. “I’m supposed to bring you back now. They’re all finished for the day, but you still have to practice, so Sannie and Yunho are staying late to watch you. I’m not allowed to stay because I’ll just kidnap you again apparently.” He told her.
He got up out of the chair he was in, sulking as the female omega got up as well, and continued to sulk as they left the cafe, heading back to KQ. He grumbled about how unfair it was that he wasn’t allowed to stay and watch her dance, that he wasn’t allowed to stay at the company while she was practicing.
This grumbling continued all the way to the door of the practice room. She rolled her eyes at Wooyoung’s grumbling, and pushed open the door herself, brushing past the elder omega. She bowed once she was in the room, apologizing for her lateness, “I’m sorry I didn’t show up on time.” 
“Don’t worry about it, once Hongjoong-hyung told us it was Wooyoung, we knew we wouldn’t get you back on time.” San waved off her apology, “You’re here now, that’s what matters.”
“What Sannie-ah said.” Yunho agreed, before continuing, “Now, are you ready to practice? Other than warming up?” He asked her, to which she nodded.
“Okay, then let’s warm up.” The tall alpha smiled at her, as they both started warming up with her, helping her through the stretches they did in order to prepare for their rigorous choreography.
Yunho then led her through the entirety of Guerilla, before moving onto Halazia, having her fill in Yeosang’s parts, as he thought she fit them best, besides Hongjoong’s as well. Once he deemed her Halazia run throughs perfect, he let her take a break, and y/n collapsed onto the hardwood floor.
“How the fuck do you do all of these songs back to back at concerts holy fucking hell.” She said through many breaths and attempts, as she was still trying to catch her breath.
“Lots of training and stamina. You have to get some more.” San said as he sat on the ground next to her head.
“San’s correct. That’s the thing you have to work on, it seems. Plus some more practice on the footwork for dance breaks. You fall behind in them, compared to San when you two danced together.” Yunho told her, letting her know what she needed to work on. She took all of the comments in, knowing she wasn’t perfect, and wanting to work to get better. Plus, Yunho was kind as he told her what needed work versus what was almost perfect.
Unbeknownst to them, someone was watching the three of them sit and chat after this, and security really should have done a better job at ensuring the rules were followed, as they snapped photos of the three’s closeness.
“The fucking whore, fucking omega thinking she’s better than everyone else because of her subgender. Let’s see how the public feels about how close you are to them, when you haven't even been picked yet.” They whispered to themselves, before walking away with a ticking time bomb in their hand.
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roguishcat · 2 months
Text
Augustarion Day 3 – Apron (MNDI) 18+
Warnings: Astarion takes care of you. And I mean sexually. Inappropriate use of Mage Hand, Oral Sex (Male receiving), PiV.
Pairing: female reader (You) x Astarion
A/N: I tried to proofread.
Day 1 - 🍓, Day 2 - 🌊, Day 4 - Mythologies, Day 6 - Cream, Day 7 - Underwear, Day 15 - Shirt that goes hard
You were busy preparing dinner when you could have sworn you felt a hand brush your side, then gently cup your ass and give it a squeeze. Whirling around, you saw that there was nobody there. In fact, everyone seemed to be doing something. Shadowheart and Wyll were speaking in low voices, Karlach was playing fetch with delighted Scratch, Gale was resting, and Astarion was reading a book in front of his tent. There seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary.
You went back to preparing the meal. Gale for once asked to be relieved of cooking duty, having taken several particularly nasty blows during the surprise attack. So he passed on the ladle to the only person in the group that could apparently be trusted with their meal. You did not know what made him believe that you were any better in the kitchen than, say, Shadowheart or Wyll. But, having taken a look at his pale face and the dark circles under his eyes, decided not to argue. You weren’t great at cooking, but you could manage a simple stew. Especially as Gale took care to write out step-by-step instructions for you to follow.
Then you felt it again. Phantom fingers brushed the back of your knee, making you yelp in surprise and almost drop what you were holding. This time you were certain that it wasn’t just your imagination playing tricks. Something or someone touched you and you were determined to find out who it was.
Eyes narrowing, you took another look at your companions. Astarion, whose idea of fun was pestering you when you were busy with something else, was your main suspect. Especially seeing as how he, for all intents and purposes, seemed to be really, really into his book. The book that you were sure you saw him read before.
With a huff, you turned back to the task at hand. If Astarion wanted something from you, he would probably tell you soon enough.
Minutes later, you heard him snap the tome closed as your vampire finally decided to come to you. You were chopping up vegetables for stew when Astarion approached you.
“Hello my sweet. Busy?” he all but purred, arms encircling your waist as he laid his chin on your shoulder.
“Not too busy to talk to you. How can I help?”
“Oh, I don’t need anything in particular. It’s just you know how much I enjoy seeing you handling a blade. And I am in a mood for a lovely chat with your lovely self.”
“Sounds… nice?”
“I can be very nice. In fact, I was nice enough to notice how tense you have been for the past several days. Travelling rough taking a toll on you, hm?”
“I suppose,” you frowned, not sure where exactly Astarion was going with this line of questioning. You felt as if he was toying with you, which he often was, leading you to say whatever it was that he wanted to hear, which you were probably about to do.
“You know how much I hate seeing you in such a state. And that got me thinking, how about I offer you a little stress relief? Just to make sure that you are in tiptop shape for all the adventuring that lies ahead, of course,” he ran his hand down your side, lifting your shirt a little to press his palm against your skin.
“Astarion,” you sighed with a smile, “if you want to get me alone and out of my pants, you have to wait till later. I can’t just let dinner burn because you are bored and wanting a stress relief of your own.”
“Tsk, you are no fun.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“Luckily for you, my dear, you are in a relationship with the most creative lover!” he boasted, exposing his fangs in a cheeky smile. “You don’t even have to move, I will take care of everything. In fact,” he breathed down your neck, making a shiver pass through you, “I will not even touch you, in a way.”
You frowned, wondering what he was up to.
Seeing your confusion, he whispered his plan into your ear. Your face flushed from the mere suggestion.
“No!”
“Yes.”
“Astarion!”
“My dear, this is happening. The only choice you get in the matter is whether you get to preserve a bit of your modesty.”
He took Gale’s apron from the bag near the makeshift table and shook it out.
“Apron or no apron?”
“Astarion, I really don’t think-”
“I’m not asking you to think, my sweet. You do enough of that every single day. I’m asking you a very simple question. Apron or no apron?”
“Apron,” you whispered shakily as he slipped it on you.
“Good choice,” he all but growled, pulling on the ties a little harsher than needed and making a tight knot. “And try to be discreet about it, dear. Wouldn’t want to alert the rest to what is going on right in front of their noses.”
The flush spread from your face to your neck.
“You are a terrible influence.”
“And you are thrilled by the thought, admit it. But darling,” he was suddenly serious, “this is all a bit of fun. If at any point it stops being fun, I will stop.”
You knew that this was always the case, Astarion would never force you, but were grateful that he made sure to point it out anyway.
“I know. I trust you,” you turned your head a little and pecked his cheek.
“And what are you two lovebirds talking about, hm?” Shadowheart said with a frown, crossing her arms across her chest. In spite of addressing both of them it was Astarion who she was looking at with distrust and annoyance.
“Nothing that would interest you,” Astarion moved and lifted both his hands, palms up, a perfect picture of innocence. “But if you are so concerned, I’m walking away now.”
“You better, Fangs!” Karlach walked past, on her way to fetch water. “Keep your hands where we can see them. Wouldn’t want to waste all that food just because you have nothing to occupy yourself with.”
“Tsk, you think so lowly of me. And just when I was about to renounce my old ways and become the poster boy for gentleman-like behaviour! There,” he sat gracefully on the stool next to Shadowheart’s tent, crossing his arms and legs petulantly, “happy now?”
You listened to the two bicker with fondness and went back to the task in hand. Absentmindedly, you wondered if Astarion was so distracted by sparring verbally with Shadowheart, a common occurrence, that he forgot all about you. The thought didn’t bother you, in fact you were a little relieved. What were you even thinking agreeing to something so lewd with everyone being right there? How unlike you, how scandalous!
But then you felt it again, this time on your inner thigh. Invisible hands insistently ascending until they reached the apex between your thighs, lightly brushing against the fabric there. Your eyes widened and you withdrew from the table with a jolt, unsure how you felt about the sensation. Your eyes snapped in the direction that Astarion took, but he seemed to have moved on from Shadowheart and was now arguing with Lae’zel.
Apparently, that did not require as much thought as one would think, because you felt the Mage Hand move towards you again. Thankfully, it was invisible. Something that he learned to do and was very pleased by the opportunities that newfound knowledge would offer.
Suddenly, you realised where you remembered the book Astarion was reading earlier from. It was the spell book that held the secret to advanced Mage Hand! The one that he told Gale that you accidentally sold to the vendor! Gale lectured you about the importance of keeping the travel trunk in perfect order for a tenday after that!
Just as you were about to march over to the elf and give him a piece of your mind, you felt the Mage Hand slip into your underwear. Looking down, you panicked. Perhaps the spell made it invisible, but the movement beneath the clothes would make what is happening rather obvious. Thankfully, the makeshift table near the cooking pot was high enough to partially hide you. The apron was proving helpful too.
You felt the tadpole in your mind stir as Astarion’s voice appeared in your mind.
I understand that this may be a little distracting, my sweet, but appearances must be kept up. Chop, chop!
You grit your teeth and lifted your knife. Right. Vegetables, meat and- Ooh, yes!
You felt a finger inside you and a thumb circling the swollen nub slowly.
Do try to stay still, darling. Conjuring up a second Mage Hand to keep you in place might make everyone in the vicinity aware of what is happening.
Bastard. That beautiful, devious, impossible bastard! As if staying still came easily to you at such times and he knew that far too well. Astarion so enjoyed in making you squirm.
My, my, you think me beautiful, my dear? Is this the thought dominating your days and surfacing during your dreams?
But of course this would be his only takeaway from listening in on your thoughts! You shoved him out of your mind and his mocking, sultry voice disappeared, but not before you heard an arrogant chuckle.
Being banished clearly did not sit well with Astarion as the Mage Hand doubled its efforts, making you put down the knife lest you dropped it on your foot and grip the table tightly with shaking hands. You bit your lip to stifle a moan and forced yourself not to rock against the fingers pumping in and out of you with increasing speed. This was torture. Sweet, overwhelming torture.
You buried your face in your hands as another finger joined the first two. It was too much and you were sure that someone was about to catch on and-
“Is everything alright?” you heard Wyll’s voice.
It might as well have been a bucket of cold water. You immediately straightened and looked at him with wide, panicking eyes. Did he know? He couldn’t have known! How could he possibly-
“Are you feeling quite well? You look like you are running a fever,” he was about to move around the table and towards you.
You had about ten seconds to make a decision. Because there was no way that you would live this one down. So you grabbed the ladle, shoved it into Wyll’s hands, and sprinted towards your tent, grabbing Astarion by the collar on the way. The vampire had the gall to give Wyll a wink and shout, “Do start eating without us!”
You half-pushed, half-threw Astarion into your tent and closed the flap, making sure the damn thing was closed properly. Then, you gave yourself a minute to calm your erratic heartbeat.
When you turned, you were greeted with the sight of Astarion lounging on the bedroll. He was very naked, giving you a lazy, knowing smile.
“Where did you clothes go? I took my eyes off you for no more than a minute!”
“Why so displeased, love? Did you need me dressed for what is about to happen next?”
The nerve of that man! Looking at you like a cat that got the cream! As if he knew that you would happily jump atop of that. He was right, of course, but that was beside the point.
“Why Astarion, who knew that you would get so excited over this? And I didn’t even have to undress or touch you for you to get this,” you motioned to his cock standing at attention, “worked up.”
That wiped the arrogant smile off his face. Hah! Take that you handsome bastard!
Closing the distance between you, you crouched in front of Astarion, taking him into your hand and moving it torturously slow up and down the shaft, eliciting a groan as he thrust into your hand.
“Enjoying yourself?” he laughed in between gasps.
“Yes, very much, thank you.”
Keeping the rhythm, you started unbuttoning your shirt with your free hand. It would have probably looked sexy if the damn apron wasn’t still on you. Just as you wanted to untie it, Astarion stopped you.
“No. Keep it on,” he moved to help you out of your clothes. “I thought it looked rather fetching on you earlier.”
You nodded slowly, eyes fixated on his hard erection. You explored him. The very tip of his cock was traced with gentle fingers, then down the sides until your fingers went even lower, tracing around his balls before finally cupping them, kneading them gently, reverently.
Astarion was shuddering, eyes squeezed shut, allowing you to take your time. Feeling emboldened by his reactions, you spread his legs wider before lowering yourself, head between his legs. You kissed the tip of him before swirling her tongue around like you were savouring a treat. Slowly, inch by inch, you swallowed more and more before you stopped, unable to go any further. You sucked gently at first, before picking up speed, wrapping fingers around the base, stroking where mouth couldn’t reach. Your other hand rolled his balls in your palm.
“Oh darling, you must stop,” he groaned.
Freezing, you slowly pulled away and looked up at him with eyes heavy with passion. Did he want to stop? Was this too much?
He reached down and grabbed your shoulders, falling onto his back and dragging you on top. Sprawled on top of him, you could see Astarion was physically trying to hold himself back. He kissed you hard, leaving you breathless and panting.
Astarion rolled you over, his hips fitting between your legs. You felt the tip of his arousal pressing against your entrance.  
“Eyes on me, my love.”
You could not resist it when he spoke to you in that breathy way.
“Always.”
You looked into his eyes when he thrust into you for the first time, making you moan.
You murmured the Silence spell between pants, unsure of whether you would be able to keep concentrating on it for long.
“Do you really think you will manage to concentrate on the spell, my sweet?” he mocked you playfully between shallow, teasing thrusts.
“You seemed to have managed well enough,” you bit back, arching off the bedroll to get more of him in, “or is arguing with Lae’zel and Shadowheart becoming second nature?”
“Oh, please, as if I could get a word in edgewise. Once those two get going any off-hand comment will do. You, on the other hand,” he finally thrust into you in earnest, his breath shuddering out of him in relief as he was finally nestled in you the way he wanted all afternoon, “may find yourself distracted so thoroughly that- oh fuck! You are so tight,” he growled, words failing him. Astarion grit his teeth as he moved his hips, lost in the sensation, ashamed of himself for wanting to come already.
Truth be told, running his mouth would only go that far in trying to make sure that you came first. But then he looked at you, eyes shut, cheeks flushed and felt a wave of affection. Because you were his and he was yours, and you were enjoying each other. No shame, no judgement. So he let go and decided to be in the moment with you.
“You are doing so well, my sweet,” he murmured, kissing your eyes, your cheeks, your neck. “So wet, so good. I wanted this… My love.”
As Astarion’s pace sped up, your legs came over his hips to wrap around him, unbelievable pressure building deep inside. And then you lost yourself in him, in his pants, the movement of his hips, the way his fingers dug into your back as his grip on you tightened. You whimpered for him to bite you. And as he did, you held onto him, wanting to feel more and then more still. You gasped at a deep thrust, tightening your walls around him when he hit a spot that made you cry out in pleasure as you came.
Astarion gasped when you closed around him. Faster, harder; he couldn’t help himself. He was rough and he knew it, but the way you felt didn’t leave much in the way of his control. His own release came suddenly and, thrusting erratically, he rode the wave of pleasure until he was completely spent.
He couldn’t move. And to be honest he didn’t want to move. He was still inside you snug heat, listening to the wild beat of your heart. Giving himself another moment, Astarion kissed your shoulder and reluctantly pulled out. He didn’t move much farther than that; his arm was under your shoulders in an embrace, and his head rested on your chest. He was content to listen as your breathing evened out and heart slowed down. When your tremulous fingers stroked a curl out his face, Astarion had a frightening thought that he was absolutely sure that you ruined him so completely with your love and affection that he would be unable to survive without your presence in his life. Of course, he would probably never admit it. Still, as you shared a slow, unhurried kiss, perhaps those bards had a point when they sang about love and such.
Dinner was an awkward affair. You looked at your bowl and your bowl only, your cheeks aflame as you physically felt the judging glares shot in your direction. Because you did exactly as they suspected. Abandoned the cooking pot to fuck the vampire. Surprisingly, it was Gale who came to your defence.
“Now friends, you shouldn’t judge these two too harshly. I’ve read many a book that mentioned the inherent eroticism of cooking. No wonder they got caught up in the moment!”
Shadowheart did not look convinced or impressed by that explanation, but mercifully chose not to say anything. Perhaps because against all odds the food turned out not as terrible as expected. Of course, that had nothing to do with you and everything to do with the fact that Wyll added salt and spices, and made sure your dinner did not burn.
“But perhaps food preparation should be left to me, after all,” Gale went on. “Speaking of, has anyone seen my apron?”
You were mid chew and almost chocked on your food.
“I spilled something on it, so I had to wash it,” you said, not reacting when you heard Astarion chuckle into his wine. “But you will get it back as soon as it dries,” you quickly assured Gale, feeling terrible for having used it at all.
“Splendid! I am rather fond of that apron,” he nodded, going back to his meal.
But Astarion too found himself unwilling to part with it. Which is why he swiped the apron quickly and discreetly, squirreling it away until next time. Because there would certainly be a next time.
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k0yaz · 2 months
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MAAM CMERE SIT DOWN LISTEN
Arlecchino x Harbinger fem reader and they have the type of relationship where they’re always “bickering” but it’s just Arlecchino telling reader to stfu and reader replying with smth SUPER suggestive and out of pocket headcanons 🗣️
Please and thank you 💕
arlecchino with an out of pocket girlfriend hcs
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Pairings: arlecchino x fem!reader
CW: sfw, female reader, slightly suggestive, VERY short, I spent way too long at the fucking car dealership pls cut me some slack, I’m tired today, I love fellow arle fans but literally why are yall like the size of 5 nations omg, my spotify shuffle is so stupid I hate it, like wdym u keep playing the same song over and over.
A/N: YOUR WISH IS MY COMMAND READER IS LITERALLY ME BRO also I lied but I’m too lazy to spill oneshots today so this was the only hc fic I had and I decided to be lazy on it 🕯️
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OH MY GOD SOMEONE SAVE ARLECCHINO
As much as this woman loves you, she always cringes so hard at your flirty remarks. Like you swear she PHYSICALLY recoils from you.
It’s ok though you’re the only woman she’d tolerate this shit from
Both of you would have a disagreement here and there, but doesn’t take long for that to turn into full blown back and forth bickering the second you to open your mouth.
Arlecchino asks you to stop in an embarrassed voice as she covers her forehead. She was totally hiding that she’s lowkey flustered.
BRO HER CHILDREN MAKE FUN OF HER SO MUCH IF THEY WALK IN ON THIS
Like you’d be there giving Arlecchino that smirk as you say something that’s so unhinged, and most likely Lyney would walk in to his father looking away with her face slightly red.
Then he tells everyone and ends up getting his ass whooped by Arlecchino-
OH MY GOD ITS SO MUCH WORSE IN FRONT OF THE OTHER HARBINGERS
You tease her so much in public and at harbinger meetings that everyone just stares at you two like a deer in headlights.
You maybe considered doing it in front of the Tsaritsa…but you did have to maintain your respect for her so you ultimately didn’t do it.
Doesn’t mean you don’t want to though.
Pretty much your convos would go something like..
“(Name), with all due respect, please shut your mouth.” “Maybe just gag me with your fingers or an actual ball gag to shut me up instead!” “What the fuck.”
IM CRYING THAT WAS FUNNY TO WRITE
Anyway all in all as much of a pain in the ass as you are, she still loves you :3
…and maybe sometimes she takes your remarks too seriously and yall get 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂.
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A/N: I genuinely apologize for making this so short once again I feel super drained today and plus I had no ideas for this my brain juice is dry 💔
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