#this past week has been exceptionally rough for me

[tulsa24]

i knew there was a reason why i ult exo so so much <3

[beefboyandbabygirl]

Titty-Shirt! (18+)

pairing: pervert!rollercoaster operator!jeonghan x bigtiddie!fem!reader

genre: theme park au??? lmao, coworkers to lovers, kinda enemies to lovers, smut, fluff, lil crack, lil angst

description: you start your new job and your mentor, jeonghan, is the biggest piece of shit you've ever met. you swear you hate him. you swear. he's just also the most gorgeous man you've ever seen.

warnings: whew this requires a lot of warning, first of all a lot of DUBCON BEHAVIOR FROM JEONGHAN INITIALLY (we know she enjoys it to some extent, but he doesnt know), hes a sleazy perverted fuck, tiddie playing, tiddie sucking, tiddie fucking, fingering (f. receiving), dry humping, mirror sex, praise (f. receiving), dirty talk, FINGER SUCKING HNG, a lil degradation (f. receiving), meanie condescending jeonghan turning all soft for ur tiddies :(, V TIDDIE-CENTRIC IF U COULDNT TELL, belinda loves jeonghan, WEED LOTTA WEED, explicit depictions of smoking weed, high sex, this fic sounds rough but it actually has some really soft cute moments, im pretty sure thats it lmk if i forgot smth

quotes from babygirl (@joshibambi): "shove ur cock down my throat treat me like the whore i am", "FUCKING STEP ON ME", "omg hes so disgusting..... im so attracted to him"

wordcount: 13.2k

a/n: the way i raced 2 finish this before im actually moving out... ALSO thinking ab making this a series? like one for each member, the theme being "unusual jobs". like not stuff youd immediately think of like coffee shop or lawyer or ceo or whatever. like. strange jobs. would u guys b on board?

“We’re so excited to have you working with us.” 

She had a mole on her nose that was hard to ignore. It was big and exceptionally round - your thoughts flitted back to your dearest Discovery Channel, and how amazing it was that nature could create such perfect spheres. The thought of your couch and your blanket and your most cherished nature docs brought upon a wave of uncertainty. You could just be lying at home, you thought. 

“Happy to be here,” you smiled tightly. She was your new manager and she was short and stout and had gray hair and a lovely smile and a round mole on her nose. You tried not to make it obvious you were staring at it. 

You were standing in your city’s local theme park under a long path with flower archways. People, kids and parents and ninth graders, swarmed around like bees, standing at booths and in lines to old, janky, rusted roller coasters. It was summer and you were wearing the branded shirt they’d given you, slightly too small, and the matching cap. Insects buzzed past your stray hairs and you looked up at the bright blue sky. 

You needed a job, you had known, and your mom had certainly known it too, so you could only lounge around after graduating for a short while, before you opted to apply. This had been your last choice. You’d tried to become some sort of lobby-worker, tried makeup stores and even regular stores. You used to make fun of the people who worked here. But now that person was you, and standing under the archways in the summer sun slathered in sunscreen, you figured you would make the best of it until the busy season was over. 

“So,” your manager, Belinda, began after a brief pause of polite nods, “new employees such as yourself are required to be trained and surveyed by an existing worker for a two-week period, but after that you get to run the rides all by yourself.” 

She said it like it was something to look forward to. You tried to believe that it was.

“Of course,” you said, and once again the space between you was filled with polite and exaggerated nodding. “Need to learn first before you get to be the master.”

“Exactly!” she said. Her lipstick was barbie-pink and a little overlined on the right side. She smelled faintly of gasoline. “So we’re handing you off to one of our star-employees!”

You hummed and noticed her taking a step backwards, indicating you to follow. She began walking, trudging over the cobbled paths and shuffling awkwardly in between walls of people. You followed behind. “He’s been working here for the past two years, so he knows the place in and out.”

As you walked, passing twisting, gnarly tracks with screams emanating from them and stands with oversized, China-made plushies hanging from them, you tried to imagine what a star-employee at Caratland Theme Park looked like. 

It was probably someone that loved roller coasters, maybe someone like yourself, who strived for approval and perfection, maybe someone that found a certain joy in being a good service experience for guests. Someone who was good with kids? 

“So you’ll be training with him for a bit before we leave you alone with the coasters, of course, but it should be no trouble, he’s a fun guy!” 

You passed by a haunted house, where a group of kids psyched each other up in the queue. Dodging a tree, you finally came up on a certain blue ride where Belinda stopped and put her hands on her hips, power posing in front of the creaky, old machinery. 

The Pirate Swing. That’s what it was called, and it was a big ship attached to a huge, metal pole on each side, and it was currently swooshing up and down with a large, grating sound. You cringed at it. Belinda noticed and frowned, fingers fiddling with the edge of her shirt. “Maybe we should oil that one.” 

Kids and parents were lined up at the stairway leading up to it in a parade of artificial polyester colors, and on the edge of the platform where the ship was shoveling through the air, a little booth was sat. Peeking through the frankly grimy windows, you could see him. He was slumped back in a wooden chair, wearing the same shirt as you and Belinda, and wearing big, blocky, black sunglasses. 

“Jeonghan!” she called, and you saw the figure jolt. He looked briefly dazed, before he snapped his head up to peer through the glass, smiling and waving. The kids in line turned to glare at you. He scrambled up from his seat clumsily and with sporadic movement, and you both watched how he hunched over the door, shaking it in its frame before it finally let open. He took one long step out the door and was finally outside, looking down at you from the platform and leaning on the railing. 

“Belinda! Nice to see you,” he breathed, smiling in a way that seemed to indicate he did not find the prior sequence of events embarrassing. In fact, he seemed to think he had the upper hand - the confidence rolled off of him in waves. You grimaced. 

You could see him much better now that he was outside, not broken up by the greasy glass, and whatever you had envisioned the star-employee to look like, this was not it. He was young, maybe just a little older than you, and he was thin, with long black hair that just kissed his shoulders. About half of his face was hidden away behind the frankly humongous sunglasses on his face, but he had pale pink lips and a pronounced cupid's bow, and even though you were a little skeptical of him, the cockiness in his smile was well-received. 

“This is Y/n!” Belinda said (yelling to overpower the severely loud child glee), gesturing to you, and you almost felt self-conscious when he looked over at you and smiled. “She’s a new employee and you’ll be her mentor during her training period.” 

“Sure thing!” he said simply. Again with the polite nods, you thought, before you felt Belinda’s hand on your shoulder. You glanced over and she squeezed. 

“Good luck, Y/n! You’re in great hands!” Now that you weren’t so sure about. Had the two of you not seen the same thing? 

You mumbled a thanks and she padded away, once more dodging and weaving through huge chains of people, and you squinted after her, before you turned back to Jeonghan. He was already looking at you, a lazy smile on his lips. 

“Welcome to The Pirate Swing, matey! Get up here and let me show you the ropes,” he padded back to the booth, now visibly more relaxed, as his back returned in a hunch. “I should probably stop the ride,” he mumbled to himself, pressing a button on a long controlpanel with a grid of eight buttons. 

You climbed up the stairs unsurely, hand smoothing over the railing as you went. At the top you squeezed in beside Jeonghan. It was a fairly small space, just big enough for the two of you to stand next to each other. Jeonghan smiled a straight smile at you, before brushing past you to let out the dizzy guests. 

“Was it a good ride?!” You heard him ask distantly, while you studied the interior of the booth. 

It was reeking with a sweet herbal stench, and for a moment you might’ve chalked it up to sweat and cologne, but when your gaze danced over the grid, you became aware of a small, open ziploc of weed on the countertop, crumbs of it dotted by the opening. An energy drink, most certainly warm from the sun flowing in, was perched next to it, and you saw more cans by the foot of the wooden chair (it seemed like a chair that had been dragged in from somewhere else - it was almost reminiscent of the one from your grandma’s house).  

You grimaced, looking over to where Jeonghan was waving kids off and shuffling over to let in people from the queue, a big sign for checking heights in his hand. The sunglasses, of course, you thought and frowned at the room. Luckily it seemed pretty straight forward, so maybe you could escape this Jeonghan character earlier than two weeks. 

“Right,” Jeonghan clapped his hands together, pushing past you again. “This is how you turn it on,” he said and pressed one long, skinny finger to a black button that read ‘dispatch’. 

Sure enough, the huge metal set to work again, screeching as it lifted a boat-full of nuclear families through the air. 

“You turn it off with this other one. Usually rides just stop by themselves when they reach the end, but since we got a little shitty one today it’s manual.” 

“Okay,” you said, nodding along and watching when his hand danced and pointed to the set of buttons.

“That’s pretty much it!” he said, collapsing in his chair again, sunglasses sliding halfway down his nose and revealing his bloodshot eyes. 

“What about the other buttons?” you ask pointedly, arms crossed.

“Don’t worry about them, sweet cheeks,” he waved you off. “They don’t do much.”

The empty cans by his chair clattered when he reached down a hand for one, toppling over and hitting the metal flooring. You scrunched your nose in disgust. 

“I like your shirt,” he mumbled, nimble fingers picking up a particular empty can. It was bent on one side, little holes pricked in it - it was a makeshift bong. You scoffed at him. This was the star-employee?

“We have the same shirt,” you deadpanned. 

“Yeah, but I like yours better,” he grinned lazily, can now in hand, when he leaned forward to fetch the ziploc of weed. “Nice and tight.” 

“You’re gross,” you spat, brows furrowed. “This is a kid’s establishment, you know that, right?” 

“Ninth graders fuck here all the time,” he shrugged. You gasped, not only because it was an extremely gross fact, but also because that was not what you were suggesting. “I’m referring to the fucking weed in your hand, jackass!” 

“Woah, calm down!” He shushed you, and you might’ve genuinely scared him, because he looked around each window of the booth, light cascading down his tan skin. He was wearing a pair of shorts, and you saw his knee bounce. When he’d secured the area, he turned to you with a hiss: “That’s a secret, woman! You can’t just throw words like that around.” 

“Then maybe you shouldn’t smoke here!” You snapped, but Jeonghan was doing exactly the opposite. Ducking down so it wasn’t totally visible from the windows, he’d placed a little nugget of weed on the grate, and was now setting it alight with Transformers-print lighter.

“This is your first day, right? Trust, you’re gonna end up being high on the job too,” he ended his sentence by placing his lips around the mouth of the can, sucking in smoke.

“That’s such a safety hazard,” you murmured, looking down at him from where you stood. He pulled away, smoke still in his mouth and you saw a twinkle in his eyes from above his falling sunglasses. Then he lunged forward and blew it into your face, a concentrated stream of weed smoke bouncing off your shiny cheeks. “Hey!”

You sputtered and spat, shoulders tense and straining against the fabric of your shirt. Jeonghan settled back down in his chair, legs spread.

“The kids love me! With or without weed!” he said, voice a little groggy from the smoke. You coughed, discontent. 

“Maybe they love you because you get them contact-high,” you mumbled under your breath. Jeonghan grinned at that. 

Suddenly he leaned back in his chair to study you, one hand on the can, the other taking off his sunglasses. He stared up at you with fire-red eyes and soft, long hair and a bemused grin on his lips. Seeing his full face, you gulped under his intense gaze. He was really pretty. Annoying. More annoying than pretty. But still. 

Distantly, kids screamed and a constant buzz of countless conversations overlapped in each inch of the park. Jeonghan reached out a finger and poked your jean-clad hip once. 

“You’re funny,” was all he said, something resembling curiosity in his eyes. “Yeah. Funny girl with the tight shirt.” 

You were going to retaliate (they truly had run out of your size and had opted for this as a temporary option, it wasn’t your fault!), but Jeonghan coughed suddenly, eyebrows furrowing as he sat back up in his seat. 

“Oh shit, should probably stop the ride now.”  _____________________________

You thought about quitting. 

You could honestly say that Jeonghan made you think about quitting, and maybe you would even have brought the plan into action, had it not been for the fact that you had been rejected from just about every other job that you’d applied to. It seemed you were stuck. 

You showed up the next day in your shirt and it felt even tighter than the day prior, and the cap tightened around your scalp like you were a toy in a claw machine. 

Fortunately for you, the park seemed much less crowded today. It was a Wednesday, parents were still working and apparently no one sought out the thrill of scary, old, decaying rides on such afternoons. You admired how much lovelier it was when it was still, as you walked up to The Pirate Swing. 

“Hey, titty-shirt!” 

The loveliness was ruined. 

Jeongan was standing on the railing with someone else you didn’t recognize, long, black hair swaying out from the rim of his cap. He waved enthusiastically, watching your form slump at his words. 

“Hey, Jeonghan,” you muttered, approaching the steps. The boy beside him looked mildly uncomfortable at the interaction. 

“It’s a good thing you’re here, N/n - can I call you N/n?” he didn’t let you answer, simply continued talking like a telemarketer. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re here. Me and my buddy, Junhui, from the Beetle Bug ride were just discussing something that I think is extremely valuable to learn about this place!” 

“Are you gonna teach me about the rest of the buttons?” you drawled, eyes half closed in feigned boredom (as much as you disliked him, it certainly wasn’t boring). 

“No!” Jeonghan snapped his fingers at you. You noticed he had this way of smiling, that irked you. It was void of sincerity and was instead wolfish and teasing, something genuinely animalistic and mean-spirited. It was distasteful.

“On days like these-” he hovers and outstretched hand to gesture to the mostly bare land of the theme park, “- you can steal food from the restaurants.” 

After just one eight hour shift with Jeonghan, you find yourself not even remotely surprised at this. You cross your arms over your chest (Jeonghan’s eyes briefly flick down to them, and you think you might actually hate him): “I have a packed lunch.” 

“Packed lunches are for geeks and nerds,” he said, unbothered. “You can come along if you want to get some delicious, warm pizza, or you can stay here like a loser and explain to every kid that comes by, that you’re not allowed to give them a ride on the coaster and watch them cry until you get fired. Your choice, babe.” 

“Don’t call me that,” you snarled. Jeonghan shrugged with puckered lips and the Beatle Bug guy - Junhui - scrunched his face in disgust at the two of you. 

“Not gonna lie, I’m gonna go find Seungkwan,” he said, not even attempting to hide his dismay for your dynamic. He brushed past you on the stairs, hands buried in his pockets. “If you guys fuck, do it in the bathroom Chan uses!” he yelled, trudging past the pillars that held up the haunted house. 

“Sure thing, Jun!” Jeonghan smiled, and you could punch him. Again that animalistic, joyful, laughing-at-you-not-laughing-with-you smile.

“What if I snitch on you?” you asked, hoping it would knock some sort of sense into him, but he only shrugged.

“Belinda loves me. Whenever she works on Valentine’s day, she cries in her office and I let her rant about her shitty boyfriends,” the visual was somehow not hard to imagine. Belinda in her office chair (you’d seen it once, and all you could say was the interior looked like something from a log cabin) and Jeonghan, 19, feeding into everything she said. “You can say what you want, but she’ll just fire you for making up rumors.” 

Your brows furrowed. “That’s so concerning.” 

“Nothing about this place works right,” he admitted and it was maybe the only time you’d sensed an ounce of truth in his words. “So, are you coming?” 

You hesitated. You really were working up a real distaste for Jeonghan, but talking to spoiled, crying kids seemed worse than anything else at the moment. You decided you could live through Jeonghan’s lewd comments and maybe make friends with some other park workers. 

“Okay.” 

“I knew you loved me,” he teased, and then grabbed your wrist from the top of the steps, bouncing down and pulling you along with him. “Hey!” you yelped, but Jeonghan was, as always, unbothered. 

He pulled you by a narrow walkway into the toilets, passing by a single, confused family, as you stumbled behind him. There was a fountain with a hen figurine on top, which he steered around, your arm jerking limply, as he went down a flower-walkway. 

“You do this often?” you remarked, out of breath from jogging to match his strides. 

“Oh yeah. Mingyu works there and he’s like 16, he lets me do anything,” Jeonghan giggled evilly, glancing over his shoulder once, and you gulped, and hated the way his eyes were so big and pretty, and the way his hair blowed softly along carvings of his cheeks. 

“It’s great that you have so many people here to enable your bad habits,” you said. Whatever sarcasm you portrayed in your tone, Jeonghan ignored it, still smiling when he said: “Right?” 

When you stopped you were standing on the backside of a blocky building - one of the many offers of food you provided, prices marked up to drain the suburbs of their cash. You felt something underfoot, and looked down on the gravelly, rustic pavement, only to see circa 20 cigarettes jammed in between the rocks. You scrunched your nose. 

“What? You don’t like cigs?” you looked up at Jeonghan’s voice, to see him grinning cheekily at you. His eyes sparkled and for maybe just a second it was kind of attractive. 

“I don’t..” you broke off eye contact. “I don’t mind, it’s just.. Is everyone here like you?” 

“Sweetheart,” he tutted, and you nearly flinched at the feeling of his long fingers tapping your cheek, cool on the warming skin. You looked back up at him and he had tilted his head to the side. Why was he being attractive? Why were you finding him attractive? “There’s no one like me.” 

Before you could respond, Jeonghan pushed open the backdoor, the heat of the kitchen simmering out in one brief wind, before it slammed shut behind him, and you were left, alone and dumbfounded on the stones in a mountain of cigs. 

Then you scoffed.

You stood for a moment, letting the fresh air cool the inevitable warmth on your cheeks, huffing (because you were annoyed, you told yourself, not because he had just done something terribly, horribly attractive!) and puffing with your arms crossed over your too-tight-shirt. 

Then you pushed open the door and stepped inside the tiled kitchen. 

The room was filled with steam and it smelled like canned marinara sauce and fake cheese and most of all it was unbearably hot - so hot and humid, you felt the particles of water sitting on the fabric of your shirt. There was a decidedly oversize pot simmering with sauce on a stovetop, and on a hotplate three untouched pizzas sat; one with potato-topping, one pepperoni and one margarita. 

A very tall boy was running frantically around the kitchen, three different kitchen utensils in his clenched fist like claws. Sweat was dripping down the side of his frowning face and red speckled his shiny cheeks. Jeonghan draped himself against the counter lazily.

“It’s just me today,” the boy, Mingyu, cried, “Thomas sent home the other two because there’s no one in the park, but I can’t do this alone!” 

“Seems real stressful, Gyu,” Jeonghan mumbled, leaning on his hand. 

“Yeah, so if you aren’t too busy, maybe you could stir the marinar-” 

“That’s really great, man. You’re doing God’s work. But hey, we’re just gonna-” While Mingyu’s back was turned, the tall boy hunched over the sauce, Jeonghan limply pushed the pepperoni pizza to the edge of the hotplate with a pair of tongs. He winked at you, scooping the pizza into his open palm. “We’re just gonna head out now.” 

“Jeonghan, please help me out and don’t-” 

Mingyu turned around and his tortured expression dropped into one of shock, his tense limbs falling limp at his sides. Jeonghan stood, hand in the cookie jar and pizza in his palm, frozen in front of him with a sort of cartoonish ‘oopsie’-face. Steam clouded the room while you watched from the doorway.

Mingyu’s eyes narrowed and when he spoke again, his voice was lowered in warning: “Jeonghan. We’ve talked about this. Put. The pizza. Down.” 

There was a moment of indifferent silence. Jeonghan contemplated.

Then he nodded, lips pursed and eyes cast down to the pizza.

“You know… I would.. But. Y/N, OPEN THE DOOR OR KNOCK HIM OUT!”

“WHAT?”

“OPEN THE DOOR.” 

You did. Apparently Mingyu hadn’t seen you, because he jumped at your voice behind him, body twisting to see you just in time for you to open the door and Jeonghan came scrambling out of it like a rat. You cannot believe you just aided this man’s crimes, you think, Mingyu’s expression of horror forever imprinted in your retina, before you followed suit. 

However bad Mingyu’s puppy expression made you feel, the rush of adrenaline as you bolted down the pavement under row after row of flowers and sunbeams brought forth something sinister and mean that had you giggling at your evil-doing. Jeonghan was laughing as well, and his genuine laugh was bright and bubbly and very unlike him. 

Mingyu sprung open the door behind you, yelling over your shoulders: “HOODLUMS! THIEVES! YOU’RE LUCKY I CAN’T LEAVE THIS SAUCE.” 

This made the both of you laugh even harder, disappearing behind another building, leading up to the chicken-fountain. You caught up to him, still holding the pizza in his open palms, now sweating and panting in between bright, heart-thrumming giggles. 

“I thought-” you panted, bending at your knees and warding away the image of the betrayed Mingyu. “I thought you said he let you do whatever he wanted.” 

“Yeah,” Jeonghan heaved, cheeks rosy and shiny, as he gently padded over to a bench with the pizza out like the plate in the hand of Oliver Twist. “That’s my bad. I forget he was 16 two years ago and has since then lost all respect for me.” 

This made you laugh. This had your eyes squinting closed and a deep, ringing laugh bouncing up your ribcage and your throat and exploding into the summertime. Eyes closed, you missed the way Jeonghan’s face lit up at that.

“That made you laugh? Self-deprecation?” he asked incredulously, but somehow amazed. 

“Oh,” you cried, opening your eyes and willing your laughter to calm. “I think it’s just the first time you haven’t been baselessly confident and cocky.” 

“Baseless?” Jeonghan echoed, face screwed in poorly-concealed glee.

“Yeah,” you nodded, face also screwed in poorly-concealed glee.

“What? Am I supposed to collect, like, fuckin’ data?” 

“Yeah, evidence.” 

“EVIDENCE?” 

You and Jeonghan went back to The Pirate Swing, splitting the pizza in the booth and every 45 minutes or so, letting guests on when they came by. He was still annoying and in all fairness he’d dragged you into his crimes against humanity. But. He was also a little funny and sweet. 

And the pizza did taste better than your packed lunch. _____________________________

Two days of normal work followed. 

There were too many people to really fuck around, so you and Jeonghan stayed in the booth, and you even managed to pressure him into telling you about the rest of the buttons, as well as the mechanics of the bigger machines. 

Everytime Jeonghan saw you he greeted you with “Hey titty-shirt!”, equally enthusiastic each time. Everytime the clock hands read 8 PM he pulled out his weed and began smoking. Everytime he began smoking he snaked a hand on the back of your leg where you stood (still no chair!) beside him, rubbing the flesh under his palm. You shooed him away half-heartedly, then felt guilty for not meaning it. Jeonghan was a sleazy piece of shit, but his hand was warm and felt nice on your thigh. You liked to tell yourself you were just lonely or something. 

“TITTY-SHIRT!” 

That Saturday you came walking into work, still wearing your shirt and your cap, and was immediately alerted to the fact that something was off; Jeonghan was ecstatic. 

He always had this front of joy and constant bemusement, but you’d learned to read how he yearned for his shift to end - you saw it sometimes when he gazed out of the windows of the booth, thinking you were surveying the kids. That day, he was happy. Genuinely. 

“TITTY-SHIRT!” he called again, causing a family of blonde children to turn their heads in dismay. He paid them no mind, rushing down the stairs with loud, trampling steps, to meet you at the foot of the platform, before you could even settle down in the booth. He grabbed your forearms in his hands and grinned at you childishly. You couldn’t help the small, bemused smile that parted your lips.

“Great fuckin’ news,” he said, “Belinda is fucking gone. M.I.A.”

“Okay?” you grimaced, unsure of what he was getting at. 

“Okay?! Do you know what this means?” 

“No, not particularly,” you mumbled. 

“This whole fuckin’ area,” he let go of your arms to motion vigorously to your part of the park. "Unsupervised. Unaccounted for.” 

“Okay?” 

“Okay?! This means we’re gonna go shoot the shit at the arcade, come on!” He threw a hand over his shoulder to gesture to the arcade area. You frowned and crossed your arms challengingly. 

“Shouldn’t we go take care of our coaster?” 

“Are you kidding me? If no one is working it, people just assume it’s shut down for maintenance. Come on, this only happens, like, twice a year!” He whined, stomping his worn-down Nike sneakers into the pavement and pouting at you. You hated to admit it made your facade melt like an overpriced ice-cream in the hand of a child. 

“Alright, but-” 

“Yes!” 

Without further nonsense, Jeonghan grabbed your hand in his, and began to once more drag you through the park. As you ran behind him, you looked at your interlocked hands and thought, briefly, that it wasn’t too bad to look at. And it felt kind of good. 

“What happened to Belinda?” 

“God knows, I think it was something with her kids.” 

“She has kids?!” 

You and Jeonghan messed around at the arcade - Jeonghan miraculously had been granted the keys to the arcade by Belinda (something about her trusting him?), and unlocked the machines and you played games with already-used coins. 

First was Whack-A-Mole, then the boxing game, then those motorcycle races, and then you played the basketball game.

“I’m gonna beat you!” you squealed, throwing a miniature basketball through the hoop with a small jump. You grinned in triumph when it landed right, punching the air like a dork and turning to him with victoriously glean. 

Jeonghan wasn’t even played, you realized. You’d been so caught up in actually landing the ball in the hoop that you’d managed to forgo the way Jeonghan leaned against his lane, eyes half lidded and shadowed under his cap. You turned to him, now much more aware that you’d been acting like a dork. 

“Uh, aren’t you gonna play?” you asked sheepishly, blushing. You wished you’d missed how Jeonghan’s lips quirked upwards at the sight. 

“No,” he sang, “I think I’m just gonna stay here and watch you play.” 

You narrowed your eyes, suspiciously, and that was all Jeonghan needed before he sighed and shrugged in defeat, like a criminal caught for his crimes.

“Sorry, I just like watching your tits bounce when you get all excited,” he deadpanned. Your mouth gaped open and crossed your arm over your chest.

“You’re so gross, Jeonghan!” you said, now thoroughly uninterested in playing anymore. Jeonghan only scoffed though, to which you snapped your head back to him with an outraged expression. He smiled at you in that cheeky son-of-a-bitch way. 

“Oh, don’t act like that,” he said cockily.

“Like what?”

He laughed, rolling his eyes, letting a small pause linger in the space between you. You hoped he couldn’t see the way your eyes twinkled with excitement every time he said something like this. As hot as he was, Jeonghan was a cocky, sleazy piece of shit and you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. 

“Like you’re scandalized,” he said simply. You wanted to respond, wanted to defend your honor, but Jeonghan saw right through you, and he took one step forward to speak again: “Like you hate the way I talk to you. You act all innocent and nice and so uptight, but you know what?” 

He took daring steps forward, one after another, until you were half-sat on the basketball machine and he stood, looming over you, surprisingly menacing despite the get-up. The air seemed to suddenly thicken and warm, tasting foul in your mouth. Then he leaned in, eyes glimmering brilliantly with amusement and that evil smile on his lips, breath hitting yours. 

“I think you love being treated like a slut.” 

Fuck.

He was so close to you, body heat rolling into you. You knew he saw the mechanisms of your brain turning behind your eyes, saw the fear when you realized he had seen right through you, and he smiled, and he might as well have had fucking horns.

He tilted his head, and, fuck, if every angle of his face wasn’t perfect. It was unfair. It was so unfair. 

“I-I don’t-” your voice was a meek, half-hearted protest, cut off before you could even begin.

“Yeah,” he laughed. “I think you do. You don’t just let any man massage your thigh, hm?” 

At those words, his hand dropped onto your thigh, finger digging into soft flesh. You mewled at the feeling, causing his grin to spread wider. 

“Oh, poor baby,” he pouted in fake-sympathy. “Am I making you wet?” 

“JEONGHAN!” 

Thank God for Kwon Soonyoung with the impeccable timing. 

Soonyoung was “the pool boy” - he did not work at the pools, but he was the victim of a dunking-machine that was set up in the summertime. Kids and adults alike paid to throw balls at a big, red button that would lower a trapdoor and dunk Soonyoung in ice-cold water. You’d seen it in action and it was pretty hilarious. 

At his voice, you and Jeonghan scrambled apart, his hand flying off your thigh and body twisting to back away from you, and you dropping off the machine and landing flat on your feet, blushing wildly and somewhat out of breath. 

Soonyoung, the poor boy, was sprinting through the park, stopping awkwardly where you and Jeonghan had been standing. He was out of breath and had a wild look in his eyes, like he was being chased by some supernatural monster. 

“Belinda is back! Get back to your coasters!” If he’d noticed your philandering he certainly didn’t mention it, breaking into a sprint again the second the words had left his lips. 

“Shit, thank you, Soonyoung!” Jeonghan yelled, receiving only a limp thumbs-up from the trackstar in response. Jeonghan grabbed your hand and the two of you ran back to The Pirate Swing as fast as your legs could take you. 

Your heart fluttered at your interlocked hands again, and you stared at them, focused on them, as the world became a blurred mess around you. His warmth streamed into you.

You couldn’t even look at him the rest of the shift. Something about his confrontation stirred a mimicking phenomenon in you. Did you want to fuck Jeonghan? You did, you realized, and thus you were unable to raise your gaze from the floor, pressing yourself against the wall to be far enough away from him, that he couldn’t touch your thigh again. He didn’t. He just let your cheeks blaze and pressed buttons and talked to kids, and he even waved at Belinda when she walked by, and she smiled wide and waved back. 

You went home at 9 PM, shirt too tight around your chest, and chest too tight around your heart. You simply couldn’t believe it, because not only did you want to fuck Jeonghan;

You had a fucking crush on him. _____________________________

Having a crush on Yoon Jeonghan was maybe the worst revelation you’d had in your life.

You’d kept all the things you admired about him hidden under the veil of your shirt; he was sleazy and gross and he smoked weed at work and had a certain disregard for child safety. But, and there was always a but, you realized, he was also witty and easy to talk to, and it was cute when he was happy or he got excited about something, and he was so damn charismatic, and you realized you would do anything to see him with that childlike joy again. 

The worst part was that Jeonghan did not like you back. In fact, you couldn’t even imagine him liking anyone. He thought you were hot and wanted to fuck and that was the end of it. All the ways you cared about him were unreciprocated. He did not care to see you happy. He did not care for the twinkle in your eyes when you were excited. He liked your tits in your shirt and was working his fingers up, day by day, to touch you. Yoon Jeonghan did not like you back. 

Three days of work passed, three days of being muted and awkward around him. Jeonghan’s shine was not dulled by your lack though. The kids loved him, Belinda loved him, and he didn’t love anyone back - just let himself be showered in admiration. He was greedy like that. He took all the love and gave none out.

On this particular day, all you did was lay in your bed before work, willing time to stop so you wouldn’t have to go. Legs flopped on top of your bedsheets, work shirt on and cap on your bedside. You waited.

You waited with a metal ball in your stomach, rolling around and causing a ruckus. It rested heavy there, rolling to and fro and grazing your heart from time to time, and it hurt. 

Maybe the reason it felt this bad was because you did it to yourself. Of course, Jeonghan wouldn’t like you back. He was Jeonghan. And yet, you’d had your guard down and his effortless charms had worked their way into your brain. You wondered how many girls had been in the same exact position as you; being graced with Jeonghan’s presence, being smitten by it, and now lying in bed, realizing the admiration would never be bounced back to them. 

You went to work. 

In the damn shirt, you walked in through the staff-door and journeyed towards The Pirate Swing. 

There were so many people that day, you could hardly believe your eyes. The queues were mile-long stretches, and every pathway was spotted with body after body, walls of families, crowds swarming like insects. It was enough to induce a slight panic. 

“It’s good that you’re here, Titty-shirt,” Jeonghan said, when you walked into the booth beside him. He had a bit of a wild look in his eye and he was chewing on a banana. You stood by the door of the booth, looking out at the queue - a genuine queue? To The Pirate Swing? - as the boat swung catastrophically behind you. “We’re fucking busy.” 

You hummed, then turned your head to him. He had sat down, seemingly exhausted and pouting a little. 

“You brought a packed lunch?” you asked, nodding towards the banana in his hand and he looked up at you. His cheeky smile made you want to die. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, I stole this from Seungkwan,” he said and you laughed, and you hated that he made you laugh. The walls of the booth muffled the loud, indistinct buzz and shielded you from the chaos. The flimsy, windowed walls had never felt as intimate. 

“It’s gonna be a shitty day,” you declared ceremoniously. He grunted something in agreement, voice strangled by the now finished banana. Forever himself, he discarded the peel on the corner of the control panel, among his ziploc of weed and empty cans. 

It was a shitty day.

The constant swarming of people, crying children, the non-stop screech of rusted roller coaster tracks; everything brewed together into a pounding headache, as you and Jeonghan hunched together in the booth. Beads of sweat collected on your skin, where the unforgiving sun streamed through the windows. 

Around 8 PM you’d had just about enough. Your head was pounding, you were hungry, and most terribly you were sad. You were sad, sitting next to Jeonghan on the dirty, hard floor of the booth, and you could cry every time he said something snarky and lewd to you. He would never like you and you were a fool for ever letting yourself get attached. 

The day was constant work, constant talking to kids and putting on an energetic front. Finally the crowd seemed to thin out. Slowly but surely, the suburban families returned home and only a few people remained, and the night time glowed soft and warm. 

“Dude,” Jeonghan said, neck craned to look at his phone. With most of the guests gone, he’d finally gotten a chance to waste away on his phone, putting his mouth to his makeshift bong and smoking pot. You kept the booth-door open to let the smoke out. “Wanna go see a crowd of teenagers dunk Soonyoung? Junhui just texted me.” 

You were so tired. Every inch of your body yearned to relax where you sat, cross legged on the metal floor. With dark, sunken eyes and no courtesy left, you simply shook your head. 

“You sure?” he asked, eyebrows raised. You were just tired enough to miss the small frown on his lips. 

“I’m tired, you just go.” 

Jeonghan shrugged then and stood up. He left the bong on the floor and stepped over you to exit. 

“I’ll be back ASAP!” he yelled out, and you didn’t even try to look at him, to call something witty back. You just sat. 

And as if it weren’t the last thing you needed today, just thirty minutes before closing, a woman and her son strolled up The Pirate Swing. You saw them, eyes glazing with worry as you flickered your head to Jeonghan’s empty chair.

“We want a ride!” cawed the woman, holding her son by the hand. You scrambled to your feet, stuttering as you dusted off your pants. 

“Uh, I-” hopeful, you looked around, hoping to see Jeonghan and his long, poodle-y hair somewhere near. The pathways were deserted. “I-I actually can’t-” 

Not waiting for an explanation, the woman clucked once more: “You’re still open, aren’t ya?” 

You nodded, tiredness painted thick and greasy on your face. “Yes, we are, um, open, but I-” 

“Well, then give us a ride?!” 

This woman was going to be the death of you. Why were they even here now right before closing? You closed your eyes, collecting yourself and mustering each ounce of patience you had left. 

“I’m not allowed to because I’m new-” 

“Well, where is the operator? Why are you here if you don’t know how it works!” 

“He’s, uh,” your face fell, “He’s using the bathroom right no-” 

You’re not even sure why you lied. 

“Alright,” she huffed, strained and impatient. “Well, you just ruined me and my son’s night!” 

She tugged her blonde kid by the hand and began to turn around, grumbling with a red face. 

“I’m so sorry, but- it’s a matter of safety-” 

“Next time just say you don’t know how to do your job!” she yelled over her shoulder, mean glare coming out over her shapely glasses. Then she was jiggling away with a pouting child. 

Your mouth fell open in shock. A part of you wanted to be angry - a part of you was angry - but you found yourself weighed down and sliding down the wall of the booth with a much heavier feeling; you were exhausted. 

This was the last straw for tonight, you decided, resolve melting like a dropped ice cream. Booth door half-creaked open and weed vapor in the air, you buried your head in your hands and began to cry. It was small. It was not loud and sorrowful, it was small and petty. Nothing grand about crying on the dirty floor at your workplace. Sniffles and single, wet tears and a quivering lip, all dying out in the soft glow of the fairy light decorating the park.

“Y/n?” 

“Shit,” you lifted your head from your hands, wiping hard on your reddened cheeks. Jeonghan was standing in the open door, looking down at you on the floor.

“Sorry, uh-” 

“Why are you crying?” 

You paused, hands fiddling with the collar of your shirt and effectively covering your breasts. Your breath was shaky and snotty, eyelashes coated in tears. Red patches your skin around your puffy eyes, and your lips pressed into a thin line. 

Jeonghan did not look like himself when you looked up at him. It must have been a completely different person, you decided, because his features had  tightened and screwed into an expression you had never even seen a hint of before: concern. 

It looked so utterly foreign on his face - there was always a lightness to his expression, a joking, teasing look, but now he was frowning and his brows were furrowed and his eyes were big and red and round. It made  you feel small and frail. You didn’t like seeing him like that; unwell. But it seemed that feeling was mutual. 

“Um,” you began, voice hoarse and shuddering like a frail old fence-gate, that’s been slammed shut. “I’ve just had a shitty fucking day and- this woman came and wanted to ride and she was just so fucking mean when I told her I couldn’t..” 

Telling it all again made you feel so pathetic, it wracked another sob from you, hurdling past your lips. You caught it in your hand, pressing it to your mouth and squeezing your eyes shut up. 

God, you were pathetic. 

But your heavy, heavy eyelashes blinked open and you looked up to see Jeonghan’s expression softened into something else entirely;

Guilt.

“I’m sorry,” he said immediately. 

“No, it’s fine-”

He dropped to his knees in front of you, now at your level and up close, so you could see every tensed muscle and every strain on his beautiful face. 

“I’m sorry I left you alone,” he said solemnly and for the first time since you’d met him, Jeonghan was merely expressing his regret, not bartering for some sort of gain. His words were dripping with sincerity and it was so strange, you had to laugh.

“What?” he asked, a small grin growing on his face. That was more familiar. 

“I just- I’ve never seen you so serious, it’s okay, Jeonghan, I forgive you-” 

He broke into a laugh as well, rhythmic clucks dancing through the air from the booth, and it immediately cheered you up: he was beautiful and practically glowing, a small rim of light encapsulating him. 

“I’m very serious, I think,” he said. You rolled your puffy, old eyes. 

There was a significant pause. 

Your head lolled over and your gaze landed once more on the makeshift bong by the chair, now abandoned. It reminded you of how different you were. You tried too hard because you liked when people liked you, you were a hard worker, your shirt was too tight. Your shirt was too tight and that’s what had landed you in this situation. 

“Can I…” you trailed off, daring to look at him again. “Can I smoke some of your weed?” 

Jeonghan’s face was practically split in half the way he was smiling. There was something akin to triumph in his eyes, but it was almost fatally overpowered by sheer, bubbling, striking adoration. It made you blush. 

“Of course, babe, I thought you’d never ask,” he breathed, still smiling when he scrambled forward for the bong and stretched out his arm to finger at the control panel, finally feeling the soft plastic and snatching it down to the floor with you. 

“Just put your mouth to the can, baby, I’ll light it for you,” he giggled giddily, scrambling for the lighter in his pocket. 

“I know how it works,” you tried to sound stern, but you were smiling and your eyes were twinkling. 

Jeonghan messily pinched off a nugget of weed and placed it on the gridded holes in the can (which he had pricked with his work badge; “Hi, my name is Jeonghan!”), and you placed it to your mouth, while he held the lighter to it. 

“You’re so hardcore,” he said sarcastically, face close to yours as he flicked the lighter, sending a warm flame onto the can, so the nugget lit ablaze. 

“Shut up,” you said, and then you inhaled and the flame went out and turned into a glow, and warm, crisp smoke traveled down your throat, leaving it sore and burned. It felt great. 

You held it in for a moment, then exhaled, and Jeonghan watched eagerly as your chest rose and fell under the restricting fabric of your shirt. 

You and Jeonghan sat side by side for the last half hour, smoking together, eyes turning red and breaths turning sour and casting laughs into the night air. There was a warm buzz in your chest, a low drum, and you basked in the proximity to him, in how the heat of his body met yours in a fierce battle, at how he caught your eye when he joked, and how he smiled when you laughed. Your responsibilities melted away; your shirt felt looser. 

“We’re closing now,” you hummed after a while, somehow lighter and heavier at the same time. Your eyelids felt heavy and your cheeks were warm from giggling. Jeonghan placed his hand on your wrist, squeezing and tearing your eyes to his. 

“I have such a good idea right now,” he grinned lazily and you couldn't help but echo it. His eyes were red and half-lidded, and his voice was groggy from the smoke. He had run his hand through his hair one too many times and now it was puffier, poodlier than normal. He looked so handsome, you thought, studying the tan from many days in the sun. You figured he didn’t use sunscreen. 

“What is it?” you breathed.

“Come on, come with me!” 

Then the two of you were sneaking from building to building and giggling indiscreetly, two hunched silhouettes becoming one with the backs of buildings. Jeonghan insisted the two of you go to the toddler playground (Sunshine Dance Club, as it were called), because, in his words: “those dumb prick security guards never bother to actually check it”. He pulled you into the pastel green, red, blue, and yellow dreamscape, pulling you up a wooden tower, where you would be shielded by the railing. 

The two of you sat against the railing and waited while a security guard checked the place before closing. 

The mischief had made the two of you even more giggly, scratchy throats producing choppy snickering, as you leaned into each other on the wood, breathing in each other’s air. You liked being so close to him, you thought, and you were almost high enough to just spit it out. The distant stream of light overhead revealed his pores, but you liked those too. 

“Shut up, shut up,” Jeonghan whispered at one point. “I think he might be coming!”

“You’ve said that three times-” 

His hand clasped over your mouth and he fought not to laugh at the surprise in your eyes. Sure enough, this time he was right, as you heard booted footsteps in the distance, and the beam of a flashlight danced across the sloping and bouncing playground. 

You held your breath, not only because you feared, for the first time that night, getting caught, but also because Jeonghan had leaned so close to you, that you could see every stirred acrylic in his eye, every color of brown, swirly sundae. 

Both of you stopped laughing and stared at each other. 

His hand dropped from your lips. 

“I have cotton mouth,” he whispered, footsteps fading away. You couldn’t tell if it was the weed or what, but the air seemed thicker and you felt heavier, like imaginary hands were tugging you down. Jeonghan was no better - you couldn’t quite place the emotion on his glowing face. He almost seemed vulnerable.

“Me too,” you whispered, breathless. 

A pause.

His eyes flickered down to your lips, pink and plush.

“Can I kiss you?” 

You were almost bristling for a moment in pure surprise, before you recollected yourself and nodded eagerly.

“Yeah.” 

You thought his lips would smash into yours; you thought he would conquer you, because that would simply be the most Jeonghan-thing he could, to take what was his, to be cheeky and horny and sleazy.

To your utmost surprise, his hand was shaking when he lifted it, brushing so softly, so gently across the skin of your neck, resting on the back of it, cold from the icy, night breeze. His hand kissed the tips of your hair, and he gently slid it up, breath shaking, as he stared at your lips. Then he leaned in. 

His lips were soft like the bouncy castle on the edge of the playground, so impossibly gentle and flowing and warm. He breathed out shakily against your skin, eyes squeezed shut. Had you seen it, you would’ve almost believed that the kiss pained him, with the furrowed brows, but you didn’t, and it wasn’t painful at all, it was just that his heart was exploding and so was yours. Tender and slow, that was what it was, and you had never thought you’d use words like that to describe him.

A moment of entangled lips, slow making out and warm air covering your skin, his hand in your hair. The Sunshine Dance Club was filled with the sound of spit.

Then he pulled away, breath still shaking, but now, less vulnerable. His lips curled into a smile, spreading that childlike joy on his face. It made you smile as well. 

“That was-” he shook his head at himself, cringing. Then he restarted: “Can I show you something?” 

You chuckled, cheeks heavily flushed and eyes twinkling. “What is it?” 

The cheekiness returned to his eyes, as he scrambled to his feet: “A surprise.” 

And once again the two of you were giggling through the park, this time hand in hand, looking over your shoulders for the security guard that by this time had definitely gone home. The halted steps over the cobbled paths echoed in the dead, empty park. 

It would’ve been a strange feeling - seeing everything closed and dark and empty, every inch usually crammed with people strangely void - had you not been entirely consumed by Jeonghan’s presence. His hand in yours, his laugh, his starry eyes, his face softening when he looked at you.

Jeonghan led you into Belinda’s office (he had a key because he was her favorite, he said), allowing you to sit on the edge of her desk, while he sauntered off into an attached room. You sat there, overhead light dull and buzzing, and basked in the log cabin aesthetics. Your chest was warm.

Then, from beyond the other room, sounding much further away and thereby being much bigger than you had initially imagined the attached room to be, you heard the mechanical sound of several switches. They sounded heavy and important, having a sort of resonance that continued into your room, where Belinda’s desk chair was spun halfway. 

“Jeonghan?” you called, a twinge of worry in your voice. “What did you do?” 

He came jogging back into the office, all wide grinned and puffy-eyed. 

“You’ll see.” 

Once again he grabbed onto your hand, pulling you off the desk and barging out of the doorway.

The night air enveloped you completely, stealing you away from the warmth of the office, kissing your warm skin, as you stood on the cobble. The feeling was so great, you almost missed what Jeonghan had done.

It was beautiful. 

The switches had turned on the lights everywhere. In every color imaginable, illuminating dramatically sloping tracks in the distance, fairy lights on the pathways, signs re-lit, and the whole park before your eyes seemed to have become a disco-ball, sending faint streaks into the star-spotted sky like aurora borealis. 

You, now red and green and yellow and blue, let out a disbelieving laugh, smiling wide. You squeezed his hand, unable to communicate further. There was something about it that left you entirely speechless. It was an inability to overcome and conquer the lights before you - your eyes feasted on them much too eagerly. 

“What do you think?” 

Jeonghan was looking at you. 

“It’s-” you sucked in a breath, trying to compose a sudden sincerity you felt. You looked over at him. “It’s so pretty, Jeonghan. It’s really beautiful.” 

“I knew you would like it,” he murmured happily, body turned to yours. You turned to him as well. 

There was a moment of silence. The two of you basked in the light and in the gentle glow and the cool night, and in each other. 

“Thank you for cheering me up,” you said and pursed your lips. He smiled in a gentle way. It looked nice on him. 

“It’s nothing,” he said, “we were having fun.” 

The conversation lulled again, and while you turned your head back to the light show, the flickering lights and the ombre, Jeonghan continued looking at you. 

You felt his eyes on you, and you turned to him, shyly: “You should look at the beautiful lights.”

He shook his head, lips twisting upwards: “No.. Not right now…” And that was all he said.

The words left a bit of a void in you, like a black hole sunk in your stomach and you turned to him curiously. Jeonghan sensed your confusion, because he licked his lips and gave you a knowing smile, and then explained. 

“I wanna kiss you again, love.”

And his voice was so angelic, such a grave contrast to the boy you’d come to know, but he’d been so strange tonight. Your first kiss had been so tender, now he was looking at you and his pupils were dilated and a smirk spread across his face, and you needed to know something; just one thing, before you threw yourself at him, and gave to him, something you would not be able to take back. 

“Do you just wanna fuck me?” your voice echoed off the walls of the empty park, resounding accusingly. He laughed.

“Of course, I wanna fuck you, baby,” he laughed a little, shaking his head in disbelief. You stayed staring at him, bristling. “You’re hot as shit.” 

“No, I mean,” you paused, because suddenly your heart was climbing into your throat and it seemed like everything you’d worried about was true, that you were just another girl that was hexed by his charms. “Do you just wanna fuck me?” 

His smirk dropped. There was a moment where all you could hear was wind and the electrical whirring of the many, many lights, draining energy from the earth by the second. 

“Do you honestly think I’d do this for just any girl I wanted to fuck?” 

“I-”

“I thought you were smarter than that, N/n,” his lips spread once more in a smile, but this one seemed more fitting on his face - condescending and confident. Whatever vulnerability had hung in the air was replaced by warmer, thicker danger. Was it the weed making you feel this way? On edge or excited?

“I just-” you stammered, feeling bashful suddenly. Did that mean he liked you? Yes, that meant he liked you. You had truly not even considered the possibility, not really thought it through the way you had the negative outcome, so now you were standing and you didn’t know how to respond. A stuttering, blubbering mess of red cheeks and avoidant eyes. “I just- I thought you just- because you talk so much about my boobs-” 

“Shhhh,” he shushed you. The cocky motherfucker actually shushed you, staring you down in a way that made you feel like prey and taking two steps forward, and closing the gap between you. He was so, so close to you, chest inches away from yours and leaning his face down to tilt his head at you. 

“You’re so cute, baby,” he cooed, eyes dancing around your face. 

You and him watched it, as one lean hand lifted itself to your chest, tightly wrapped in polyester-fabric. You sucked in a breath. His fingers lightly grazed it, trailing over the soft plushness of it. Then he cupped it, experimentally, like feeling the weight of it in his hand. You whimpered pathetically. 

“Hm,” he hummed, ripping his gaze from your tits very briefly at the noise, “you sound so pretty.”

In an effort to steal more noises from your pretty lips, his delicate thumb rubbed over your nipple, watching it harden under the fabric with a bemused smirk. Your breathing became heavy and shaky. 

“Can we– please?” you whined, but he only tutted, watching the fat crook under his finger.

“Hang on, sweetheart, I’m having my fun,” he said, nonchalantly, another hand snaking up to your other tit. “Been waiting for this since the first time I saw you.”

You couldn’t help but whimper quietly, his caresses and his intense gaze sending electricity straight to your core. You fingers wrapped around his forearms where they flexed, as he kneaded your chest eagerly. 

“That’s right,” he whispered and leaned into you, eyes half lidded and lips wet from spit. “Be a good girl and let me play with your pretty titties.” 

Then he kissed you again, groaning into your mouth at the weight of your tits in his hands. His groping became more rough and hurried, as he bit your lip and slipped his tongue in your mouth. 

“Fuck, baby, need to get your shirt off, it’s so tight,” he groaned, licking into your mouth. You whined, back arching into his hand. “Poor baby, shirt so tight it’s strangling your pretty tits.” 

“Jeonghan, please!” You cried, putting one hand on his chest to push him away from you. He pulled away, lips red and swollen and cheeks delightfully flushed. 

“Okay, baby,” he whispered, comfortingly. “Okay, okay, I’ll take care of you, sweetheart.” 

You could cry. The way he was touching you so intimately, but refusing to snake his hand down to your burning core, where you could feel yourself fucking dripping. Your body was on fire and your voice was hoarse from the weed that still coursed through your body. 

“Please, please,” you mumbled, and it was desperate enough that Jeonghan pulled his hands from your chest (which took more willpower than he was willing to admit), sliding them over your back and pulling you into him. You nosed into the crook of his neck, sighing happily. 

“Alright, baby,” He breathed, hand in your hair. You felt his neck crane, looking around. 

“Come with me, baby, I know just where to go.” 

You didn’t even have time to whine that you didn’t want to go anywhere, you wanted him to touch you. Jeonghan grabbed your hand and crossed the pathway, and you saw the yellow, lit-up sign for the funhouse before you disappeared into the entrance. 

The first room had a large circular hallway, and when you stepped onto the red plastic, it rolled a little. You and Jeonghan both stumbled rockily, and you nosedived into his chest. He laughed, steadying you with warm fingers on your waist. “Silly girl,” his voice cooed in your ear. 

“Jeonghan, please touch me-” 

“We’re almost there, baby,” he said, and he was being a little annoying, because he’d just played with your boobs and made you so fucking wet that your panties were sticking to your folds, and now he was trudging you through the hallways of a funhouse. You both skiddered out of the circular hallway with much trouble. 

The next room was slanted, and in your intoxicated mind, this was more than a challenge. The whole room was blue and your knuckles became celeste, as you gripped the slanted railing. 

“Jeonghan, I can’t-” 

Not another word out of your lips, before Jeonghan was scooping you up in his arms, walking with seemingly no problem through the room. “Shit!” you yelped when he did so, but he only smiled at you, a mixture of adoration and teasing. He ran with you, his bride, through a black and white doorway. 

The next room was the mirror maze, and Jeonghan’s face lit up at the sight of it. 

“We’re here!” he panted giddily, gently lowering you. You found your footing and looked around, a little speechless at how quickly he’d constructed this plan. There were at least 20 different angles of you, and you cringed at your own disheveled appearance and how your tiny shirt dug into your skin. A hall of reflection, the roof and flooring was pitch black and only you and him existed in the void, copycats at every corner.

You saw Jeonghan in the mirror, walking up behind you. He was smirking, planting his head on your shoulder and peering up at you, as his hands caressed your waist, riding up your shirt and exposing your stomach 20 times over. You hated to say it, but seeing his veiny, big hands on you made your breath hitch. 

“Was it not worth it, hmm?” he sang innocently, blinking at you with a bunched up cheek on your shoulder. His sleazy hands worked the fabric upwards, just under the impressive bump of your chest. 

His eyes flicked over to the most nearby mirror. Breath becoming shaky, his hands lifted the shirt, finally, over your chest, exposing your simple, black bra and the soft skin of your tits. You could breathe easier, without the fabric digging into your chest. 

“Fuck,” he hissed, soft hands immediately dipping inwards to touch over the skin. “Shit, you’re so perfect,” his voice was strangled, all composure gone as he looked at your chest with something akin to wonder. 

You moaned, feeling his dick, fully fucking hard from just playing with your soft mounds, grinding into your ass. Like a horny teenage boy, he moaned shakily, big hands covering your boobs and squeezing, and rutting into you from behind. As much as you wanted him to touch you, you couldn’t help but enjoy the sight of Jeonghan so utterly fucked out, using your body to pleasure himself. It was so erotic, the way his pretty face twisted in place and his fingers dug into the fat of your chest, panting into your neck. Then the sight untangled itself from your body.

“Sorry, sorry,” he was out of breath, removing his hips from your ass. “I got too caught up.” 

“It’s okay-”

He spun you around, pushing your body against the mirror. You stood back to back with your reflection. 

“No, it’s not,” he breathed, working your shirt the rest of the way off hastily. You lifted your arms to help the fabric off. 

You very barely registered Jeonghan snaking your pants off, and then his own clothes. You leaned your head on the mirror and you could finally breathe without the tight shirt, and you somehow felt stronger, not vulnerable like you would have expected. And when your eyes flicked to another mirror and you saw Jeonghan shirtless too, you realized the two of you were much more similar now. 

Jeonghan was standing in his boxers now, and you in your panties. 

“You know, I always thought you’d be more composed during sex,” you mused, returning your focus to him and smiling teasingly, because even now he was transfixed on your bare chest, heaving for air. Jeonghan scoffed, seemingly genuinely offended by this. 

“It’s not my fault your fat fucking rack has been staring at me through that tiny fucking shirt every day,” he spat, and in a sort of retaliation he cupped your pussy through your panties. 

Finally, he touched your cunt, and God, was it worth the wait, because it shot straight through your stomach, even the slightest touch on the cold, wet fabric. Jeonghan grinned cockily at the state of your underwear. 

“You’re one to talk,” he teased. “Your pussy is fucking weeping for me.” 

You moaned and your back twisted against the cold surface of the mirror, as Jeonghan slipped his finger upwards to circle your clit slowly. 

“N-ngh, fuck..” 

“There you go,” he said in fake sympathy, pouting, and even with his hand on your clit, you could almost believe it, because he just looked that angelic and pure. “Finally your greedy cunt has my hand, hm? Bet you’ve been thinking about this since we met.” 

He couldn’t help himself. He trailed his free up to your chest again. It just looked so delectable, unblemished skin, jiggling at every twitch and shake from you, and nipples hardened to pebbles. “I’ve been thinking about you since we met,” he sighed happily, pinching the nipples between his fingers and relishing in your strangled whine. 

Jeonghan slipped his hand in your panties, scoffing to himself at just how fucking wet you were, leaking from your hole like a slut, when his finger prodded at it. 

“P-Please, Jeonghan, please, fuck-” 

Your plea was cut off by Jeonghan’s hand gripping your throat. He smirked at your tortured expression, one hand circling your hole and the other wrapped around your neck, thumb climbing up your chin to rest on your lip.

“What do you want?” he tilted his head challengingly. You gulped, face flushed and baby hairs sticking to your sweat-gleamy face. 

“I-I want you to finger me,” you mustered, building up all the courage you could to hold eye contact with him and his lopsided grin. He raised his eyebrows, feigning surprise. 

“Really?” he sang, “you want gross, sleazy, perverted Jeonghan’s fingers up your tight, pink pussy?” 

You squeezed your eyes shut. Of course, all those moments of shaming him for thirsting over you. Now you were basically fucking naked, tits perked up from your arched back and writhing under him for just a single finger in your glistening hole. 

“Jeonghan, I’m sorry-” 

His thumb on your lip tugged downwards, effectively muffling your words and shushing you. He watched your pretty lip bend to the will of his thumb, humming. 

“Then say it,” he shrugged.

“Wha?” your speech was slurred by his heavy thumb.

“Say you want gross, sleazy, perverted Jeonghan’s fingers up your tight, pink pussy,” he repeated, acting exasperated, like it was your fault for not being able to keep up. Legs spread and utterly naked, you flushed and felt dumb, and you felt even dumber when you began to speak, and his thumb stayed where it was, weighing down your lip.

“I-I wan’ gross, sleazy, perverted Jeonghan’s fingers up my tight, pink pussy,” you slurred. Somehow the embarrassment translated into a wave of slick exciting your hole and landing on Jeonghan’s hand. He grinned at your obedience, hand pushing up so his thumb entered your mouth, pressing down on your tongue and the rest of his hand cradled your face. 

“Good girl,” he purred, head craned down to look at you, suckling his thumb with wide eyes. He finally heeded your request, two fingers pushing into your sopping heat. “Now suck on my thumb like the good, big-titted girl you fucking are while I make you cum.” 

He was immediately bullying his fingers in and out of you, curling them. Drool escaped where your lips wrapped around his thumb, as you moaned on it, feeling him poke and prod at your tongue with an evil smirk on his pretty face. You saw his dick print straining against his boxers in the corner of your vision.

“Been waiting for this pussy to be mine,” hummed Jeonghan, long eyelashes coming over his eyes when he looked down at you. “You know, if you’d been a little more cooperative I could’ve had my cock in you everyday for the past week.” 

You sobbed around his thumb, panting for air through your nose. His fingers felt so good, pistoning into you and so thin you could feel the bulge of each crooking knuckle churning in and out. His thumb sneaked back up to rub your clit again, and you clawed at his shoulders, trying to stabilize your suddenly shaking legs. 

Jeonghan let out the most erotic, guttural moan you’d ever heard, when he watched drool slip from your swollen, red lips and languidly ooze on your trembling chest. His face twisted in pleasure at the sight of them, becoming all shiny and slicked up from your own spit. 

“Fuck, you’re so pathetic. Can’t believe you’re fucking drooling all over your tits,” he spat, cheeks flushed as he leaned back to look at them, all pretty and slick and glowing under the maze’s fluorescent tubes. He slipped his thumb from your mouth to begin smearing the spit all over your skin. 

Your cunt pulsed around his fingers, clenching and unclenching as something in your belly tightened. You heaved for air, moaning loudly into the maze and practically crying. 

“F-Fuck, Hannie, f-feels s’ good!” you whined, chest thrashing under his needy hands. He lifted his gaze to smile at you, where he was crooked over to look closely at your spit-slick boobs. 

“I know, baby, I know. Cum on my fingers, now, m’kay?” He smiled cheekily, pressing especially hard on your clit. You saw white, orgasm so potent, you almost didn’t even register how Jeonghan dived into your chest, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples 

The wet, smacking of his lips and his pleased humming into the soft skin only spurred on your orgasm, as your cum coated Jeonghan’s fingers. His nose, buried in the flesh of your tit, breathed out a dam of warm air into it. 

His fingers stilled within you, slowly pulling out, while he continued to lap at your chest, warm tongue on your areola. You tried to catch your breath, but it was hard with how he moaned around your fucking tit, sucking and smacking his lips, while holding you to him. You cried out softly when he nibbled at it, to which he finally pulled away, smiling teasingly. 

There was something about the way he was so shameless about it, that almost made you feel even more ashamed, especially when you saw your form in the mirror, and how wet and red your boob was from his insistent sucking. You blushed deeply. 

“You gettin’ shy on me now?” he tapped your cheek, eyes twinkling. 

“Not used to seeing myself,” you mumbled sheepishly. Jeonghan’s ever lust-filled gaze was overtaken with a very deep, fundamental adoration. His smile became genuine - not teasing nor in feigned sympathy. Despite being the sexiest person he’d ever met, Jeonghan found you so severely cute in that moment, all heaved breaths and glossy lips and rosy cheeks.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, tapping your nose. The action would’ve been annoying were not entirely too fond of him at this moment. His eyes wandered, trailing down your collarbones and back to your cleavage. Then returned the lust: “Beautiful, pretty, gorgeous girl with big, bouncing fuckin’ tits.” 

His fascination with them was genuinely insane, but you thought he was pretty and sweet, so you let him marvel.

As if he could never get enough, he reached out one hand and cupped your tit again. 

“Are you gonna be a good girl and let me fuck your pretty tits?” Jeonghan asked, experimentally pressing the mounds together and licking his lips at the sight. He had to swallow (and he would never admit this) because the idea actually had him salivating. 

“Yes, Hannie,” you said sweetly, because although you really wanted his dick inside you, he had that twinkle in his eye that made your heart burst, and, indeed, you would do anything to keep the starlight blazing in his pupils. Jeonghan looked up with raised brows - this time, the surprise was not feigned. Swiftly, he grabbed your head and kissed you, deeply and appreciatively licking into your mouth. 

“Good girl,” he murmured, rowing the two of you away from the mirror-wall with his tongue down your throat. “Good fucking girl.” 

He pulled away from you, frantically looking around, and you simply waited for his command. He began to crawl onto the floor, lying down on the hard, sleek black flooring, resting on his elbows. 

“C’mere,” was all he said, and you sat down on top of him, confused. He wantonly pushed you by your shoulder so you rested further down, while he lifted his hip to free his cock. 

It was long and right by your fucking face. 

Impossibly pretty and pink near the tip, it oozed sticky, white liquid, dripping down the veiny side, and now you were salivating, because you almost wanted to take it in your mouth and suck his soul out. 

“Shit,” he groaned, studying your face next to his hard, heavy dick with a tortured expression on his face. It seemed his thoughts had traveled the same road as yours, because when he spoke, he said: “There’s so much I wanna do to you, doll. Give me another couple shifts, I’ll have your cum all over the fucking park.” 

Without another word, he leaned forward and grabbed each of your tits, hovering just below where his dick extended out, proud and tall like a gothic church. You helped by crawling further over his tan body, lying down on your stomach with your chest raised up. 

Jeonghan enclosed your tits around his dick, breath shaking and eyes blinking shut. The sounds he released were angelic, wetting and rewetting his fiery lips, and he struggled to keep his eyes open from the pleasure. He didn’t want to close them though, because the sight of you was insane. 

You were so pretty, smiling in adoration where you laid between his legs. Prettiest girl in the world, he thought, just letting him bounce your fat tits up and down his shaft like a good, obedient girl. Your rack was like a fucking cloud around him, jerking him off and spurting pre-cum on the already slick skin. 

“S-Shit, you’re so fucking- pretty-” he stuttered, breath trembling and face flushed. From every angle he saw you, perfect, pretty, cute and sweet you. Every version of you in the mirror was perfect, he realized, every copycat a perfect picture. 

“You’re pretty,” you mused, wrapping your hand around the lower part of his shaft where your tits didn’t quite reach and squeezing it. Jeonghan moaned, stammering the breathy noise. He gulped then. 

“I-I’m gonna cum, shit-” he sucked in a harsh breath. He could not believe how lovely you were, how witty and funny and sweet and how big your fucking tits were bouncing up and down around his cock. “C-Can I cum on them, baby?” 

“Of course, Hannie,” you obeyed sweetly, watching how he desperately bucked his hips upwards. Squeezing your hand around the base of his cock, you let out a final admission to help him cum: “Want you to cum on my tits, Hannie, want it so bad.”

Sure enough, it was that easy, because without warning long ropes of thick, white cum spurted into the valley of your breasts and climbed up to your collarbones and neck. Jeonghan cried out when he came, eyes finally squeezing totally shut and hips stuttering into your chest. He sounded angelic, even with his voice hoarse from the weed and grunting. 

You let him calm down, waited until his pants turned into soft, regular breaths, and released his now flaccid cock from your cleavage. 

“Oh shit, baby,” he sighed happily. “Come up here.” 

You crawled up to his chest, curling into his open arms and feeling him under your cheek. Your legs entangled on the funhouse floor, mirrors a little foggy from the sweat and the sex. It was perfect, lying in his chest, having him, knowing he wanted you and liked you. Perfectly timeless, you draped over each other limply. 

Or almost perfect. 

You wiggled your hips away from his body, hoping then he wouldn’t notice how you were still leaking from your poor, puffy hole. Jeonghan frowned when you did so, though, both hands grabbing your waist and tilting his head down to look at you. 

“What is it, baby?” he asked.

You looked away bashfully, shaking your head, but Jeonghan gripped your face in one hand, just as condescending as his thumb had been earlier: “You’re covered in my cum, baby. You’re not getting shy on me now. Tell Hannie what’s troubling you.” 

His voice was stern. You tightened your lips the best you could with his hand squeezing your cheeks together.

“I just..” you were embarrassed again, with how your words became muffled and slurred by his flexed hand. He paid it no mind though, looking at you intently to continue. 

“YouweresoprettyearlierIgotwetagain.” 

You squeezed your eyes shut. From beyond the dark void, you heard Jeonghan laughing. You opened your eyes and he removed his hand from your face, instead brushing it through your hair lovingly. 

You were gonna get whiplash with how lovingly he looked at you, how sweetly and with so much wonder and adoration; and how it stood in such a stark contrast to the words that left his mouth: 

“Baby, you just get up and bounce your fat tiddies around a little bit, I promise you, I’ll get hard in the next five fucking minutes. Then you can get my cock in your cute, greedy pussy. How’s that sound?”

Really fucking good.

[gojo-enthusiast]

Suguru Geto ~ Bad Day, Don’t Fuckin Speak

*Bad Day at work* MDI, 18+ Only! Suguru usually being loving when you two have sex, has an exceptionally challenging day, as he finds out Satoru deleted all of the contract agreements for an account Suguru was supposed to have signed today.

Psa: rough sex, degrading, calling names, P in V, unprotected sex, blowjob, biting, pinching, ass slapping. Fluff at the end okay okay

Word Count: <1750+

No proofread! Like, reblog! Follow me on X (Twitter) 🫶🏻

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Suguru was always loving when it came to sex. He was always gentle, and patient. Knowing it always took you a little bit longer to adjust, especially to his size. Suguru the very loving husband of yours, always listening to you about your day, and cuddling up to you on the couch. Watching some tv show he would never pick for himself. But he knows how much you like it, so he didn’t really care.

You had texted him asking him what he wanted for dinner, not getting a response. Suguru was always good about responding, you had even seen that he read it, so why didn’t he respond? You just figured maybe he was just a little busy. Well a little busy was an understatement, he was extremely, ungodly busy. Satoru his co-founder of a company they built together. Sponsoring new celebrities in campaigns, and dealing with marketing, publicity, things like that. Satoru had by accident trashed the contract for a new model they were signing on, TODAY! Satoru didn’t realize the papers he deleted from his computer, had been the PDF that Suguru sent to Satoru. Of course Suguru could have simply printed it again, but they were in front of the new model as Satoru realized not only did he shred the physical copy, thinking it was the draft, but he deleted the PDF. Suguru had to pretty it up, saying they have been having some unfortunate technical difficulties, as Satoru’s laptop had crashed. And they were waiting on his new one to arrive. Making some bogus excuse that everything was done through Satoru computer. Rescheduling the visit for the following day.

“What the fuck Satoru!” Suguru yells, “You had one fucking job!” Suguru hisses, “man it’s okay, they’ll come tomorrow.” Satoru says, sipping his iced caramel frappe. Suguru knocks it out of his hand, making Satoru finally stand up mad. “HEY! THAT WAS LIKE $7!” Satoru exclaims, “YEAH AND THAT CONTRACT DEAL WAS $3M THAT WE CAN POSSIBLY LOSE BECAUSE OF YOUR INCOMPETENCE! You realize they are modeling for the top designer brand in 2 weeks, if he doesn’t sign that deal, WE GET NOTHING!” Suguru yells.

Moral of the story, Suguru was fucking fuming still. He walks in the door, and you hear him. Perking up, excited to see your lovely husband. You made his favorite food, Zaru soba! “Hey baby!” You say smiling, going up to him for a kiss, he brushes past you, causing a frown on your face. You aren’t used to him being upset, quite frankly you had never seen Geto this mad.

You’ve seen him frustrated but never to the point where he brushed past you. “Hey, Suguru. What’s wrong?” You say walking up to him, as he’s walking down the hall to your shared bedroom. No response. “Suguru.” You say again, getting worried. “Suguru Geto!” You shout. You weren’t one to shout, but he was just not listening. He turns around, and gets close to your face, you can see his face is red as a tomato, and he looks like he’s about to burst.

“Quit fucking calling my name. Can’t you see I want to be left the fuck alone.” He says through gritted teeth. You didn’t know what to say, your eyes start swelling up in tears. Your husband had never spoken to you that way. He turns away, walking into the bedroom, walking into the bathroom slamming the door.

You sit on the edge of the bed, feeling that lump in your throat. He finally gets out the shower, You hear him on the phone, with who you’re guessing is Satoru.

“Quit fucking calling me. You’re the last person I want to speak to. You fucked up my whole day, now I have my wife crying because I’m so angry at you!” He yells, “Oh fuck you Satoru. Suck my cock!” Suguru yells before you hear silence. You’re guessing he hung up. He opens the bathroom door, and the light from the bathroom door is showing Suguru the tears down your cheek. “Su-Suguru.” You whimper, “Y/N, no.” He puts his hand up gesturing he doesn’t want to hear anything. “I want silence. I don’t want to hear anything but my cock in your mouth, and your pussy. Do you understand?” He hisses, walking up to you, gripping your hair to have you look up at him. “Do you understand?” He repeats, you nod. Tears streaming down your face, you had never seen this side of him, so you didn’t know if you should feel horny or scared. Honestly you were a mix of both, feeling your nipples harden.

Suguru takes his towel off, exposing his hard member. Bringing your face down, tapping his swollen tip on your lips, his way of telling you to open the fuck up. You open your mouth, taking in his swollen cock, feeling his hands lace behind your head, into your hair. Throwing his head back, feeling a relief already. “Fuck yes.” He moans, “deeper.” He pushes himself deeper into your mouth, feeling his cock in your throat. Your gagging, drool coming out of your mouth, and tears streaming down. “Suck, you slut.” He hisses, as much as this should be hurting your feelings right now, you were so wet from this. You had always wanted Suguru to sometimes turn off that sweet loving husband, and just fuck you like a whore. You start to squeeze your thighs together, feeling yourself get wet. “Spread your legs.” He demands, watching you spread your legs. “Touch yourself.” He adds. You reach down, pulling your panties to the side, feeling your juices instantly touch your fingers, you start to rub your clit, moaning on his cock, as he thrust it in and out of your mouth. “give me your fingers, the one in your cunt.” He demands, you take them out, lifting your hand up to him, he leans down, still have your face pushed against his cock, he sucks your fingers. “You dirty fucking whore. Wet from sucking my cock. Is this what you want? For your pretty little mouth to get fucked?” He groans, face-fucking you. “Answer me!” He hisses, you nod, as you still have his cock shoved down your throat, feeling yourself about to pass out from the lack of oxygen. Finally he cums, you feeling it going down your throat, he pulls out. And you’re coughing, catching your breath. “Are you fucking crying still?” He asks, you nod no, wiping your tears.

Next thing you knew, he had your panties across the room and your shirt was somewhere. He was biting you all over, leaving love bites all over. Not caring if someone will see it. “Suguru-“ you moan out, “what did I fucking say!?” He slams his fist on the bed, your head right next to where he just slammed, “what did I say!?” He questions angrily, “y-you s-said th-that you-you did-didn’t want to hear-he-hear me sp-speak.” You stutter, “Don’t make me tell you again, do you understand?” He hisses in your ear. You nod.

“Turn over.” He demands, you were taking to long, he flipped you over himself, arching your back for you, putting you in the position he wanted, he wanted to fuck you from behind. you didn’t mind this position, but you loved to see his face, and he loved to watch you cum. But today, he didn’t want to look at you, he wanted to look at your pussy pull him in, and cum around him. He slapped your ass, as your knees got weak, “keep your back arched.” He demands, “yes sir.” You say. You weren’t supposed to speak, but the yes sir was allowed after he heard it. “I’m going to let that one slide, since you sounded so fucking sexy saying that.” He whispers in your ear. You had to control your moan, as you felt him sink into you, he was kissing your g-spot so perfectly. He starts thrusting, not even giving you time to adjust, he leans forward, fondling your titties, pinching your nipple. Causing a yelp come out of your mouth, he leans back, back straight, he slaps your ass hard. “Shut the fuck up.” He says sternly.

You are in pure bliss right now. You are loving every minute of this. Loving every minute of being fucked so stupid. He is thrusting faster and faster, slamming into you, with no remorse. He puts his hand on your clit, and starts to rub it fast, wanting you to experience a high level orgasm as well. Because no matter how angry he is, he would never let you go without being satisfied. He loves you to much to do that to you. At this point you forget the whole no sound rule, you are moaning out, “I’m cumming, I’m cumming” you moan, “fuck. Yes. Cum around this cock.” He grits his teeth. Finally releasing his seed into you. And you cum around his cock. He’s slowing down his pace, he pulls out, flipping you on your back. Inserting his cock back in, rocking his hips back and forth again. Feeling you twitch and hug his cock so perfectly, causing a second orgasm to erupt from you, and a third for him. He watches your face as you cum around his cock, his favorite sight. “You look so beautiful when you cum baby.” He kisses your lips, you kissing him back. “Sugu.” You moan, latching your arms around his neck. “I’m sorry baby, was I too rough?” He asks, kissing your cheek. “Yeah but it felt goood, it’s okay Sugu.” You say kissing him back. “Just, don’t ever ignore my kisses again.” You pout. “I’m sorry baby, I had a terrible day. I needed to fuck out the steam. I should have been gentle.” He says caressing your neck, rubbing the parts he left marks on. “It’s okay baby, I liked it.” You say running your fingers through his hair. “Oh did you?” He smirks, feeling his cock harden up again. All of a sudden he grabs his phone and takes a video of his cock entering into your cunt, and sends it to Satoru saying, “Someone was a victim to your incompetence today. Handle the account tomorrow, I won’t be coming in.” He presses send and throws his phone to the other side of the bed, “I’m gonna fuck you all night princess.” Suguru smirks.

Suguru surely didn’t show up to work, and Satoru did exactly what Suguru told him to. Fearing that when Suguru comes in, he might just beat his ass.

[justsomeclintasha]

Clint sighs, sinking back into the leather seat of the Quinjet. He’s exceptionally glad for the automatic piloting system today. The mission had been rough. He reaches to his side and flicks on the heat.

Warmth radiates over his muscles. He can feel it even through his jacket. Natasha putters around the rear of the plane, putting away her knives, his bow, digging through their pack for some food. He closes his eyes.

Several minutes later, she joins him, pressing a bag of chips into his hand. He wasn’t falling asleep. He wasn’t. She smiles at him knowingly as he opens the snack.

“Do you think I’m old?” he blurts out.

“Yes.”

“Seriously, Nat?”

“Yes. Downright ancient. In fact, is that another grey hair?” She reaches toward his temple and he brushes her hand away with a grunt. Maybe he shouldn’t let it him bother him. It was just one hair after all. “Hey.”

“It’s fine.”

“What’s the matter?”

“Back.” He shifts, wanting to take off his boots, but finding no energy to do so. Seeming to read his mind, she leans over and begins undoing the laces.

“You’re not old. I’m teasing.”

“You know Bucky loves these heated seats and he’s like a hundred years old.”

“Yeah, because they feel good. I use them, too.”

“I just don’t know if I have a lot to bring to this team anymore.”

The confession is out before he can take it back. She straightens, and he toes off his shoes, looking at a spot on the floor so he won’t have to meet her eyes.

“I’m already deaf. I’m sore. I’m tired. The past few weeks have been hard. What if I miss, Nat? What if I slip up and you get hurt?”

“Shield has been putting too much on us. You know we should have had a week off in there and they cut it back to a day. We both need a break.”

She curls her fingertips under his chin, tilting his gaze up. Her lips press to his in a soft kiss.

“Hey.”

“There is no one else I would trust to have my six,” she murmurs, her voice and eyes serious. “If you want out for another reason, then I trust your judgement, but don’t you ever doubt your capabilities.”

He’s surprised at the lump in his throat, and he pulls her close into his arms, burying his face in her hair. It’s not often he gets emotional like this. Maybe he does need a break. Just a few days to relax and wind down. Dog Cops and pizza on the couch with her sounds perfect.

“I’m insisting on two weeks vacation,” she says quietly, a hand rubbing up and down his back. “We both need it.”

“That’s a good idea,” he manages. She draws away slowly. “I think we’re almost home. I bet Lucky missed us.”

“I’m sure he’s gained like twenty pounds with the way Kate feeds him.” He laughs, settling into the heat.

“You want to do anything particular tonight?”

“A bath sounds good. My hair feels disgusting.”

“Maybe I can help you wash it.”

“How about you relax and let me do the work this time, old man?” she teases, giving his thigh a squeeze. He flushes.

“You still want me? Grey hair and all?” She grins, leaning in for kiss that promises more.

“Every day of my life.”

[netmomplus]

Touhou Ship Week 2023 Day 6: Conflict

The moment that Sannyo walked through the door that night, Misumaru knew the ensuing conversation was going to be deeply awkward. The fact of the matter was that both women loved each other rather dearly, being on the older side by Gensokyo’s standards meant they had a lot in common and enjoyed talking to each other more than anything. They’d even moved in together recently, which was not something either of them had taken lightly. So what was the issue?

It was that damn cave. The Rainbow Dragon Cave, the place where dragon gems were harvested to create ability cards. Those gems were a resource far older than Gensokyo itself; in fact, they were instrumental in the creation of magatama, a fairly potent artifact that could copy a portion of a portion’s soul for safekeeping, whether it be their memories, feelings, or even their powers. Misumaru thought this power wasn’t something to be trifled with, and yet those in charge of the market were doing just that, trifling. Sure, she’d participated in the market once, but she had a very clear purpose; she was investigating. And now that she was done, she wanted no part in it.

Sannyo, meanwhile, didn’t really mind that these caves were being stripped of an ancient, powerful resource just to give cheap paper powers. Rather, she saw the card trade as a whole to be an incredible boon for the region where she lived and worked, improving the economy twice over. And she wasn’t sure whether that would be the case if those cards didn’t have some semblance of power to them; after all, folks in Gensokyo tended to be rather obsessed with their own ability to beat someone in a one-on-one fight, so cashing in on that just made sense in her eyes.

Needless to say, the couple were at an impasse on the topic, and neither seemed willing to budge. They were able to get past it relatively well enough by just not talking about it with each other, though now that Sannyo was walking in with a new set of ability cards and a small sack of money, Misumaru figured it would only be a matter of time before she slipped up, said something stupid, and caused another conversation over it. She was going to try to focus on anything else in the meantime, better than another one of those conversations.

“Good evening, Misumaru,” Sannyo said with a light groan as she walked over to their kitchen. “How’s your day been going?”

“Rather… swell,” the God responded, her voice slightly strained. “Is something amiss?”

“Not currently. I just had a rough day of work.” Sannyo leaned against a wall, sighed, and reached for her tobacco pipe. “That trio of tengu got rowdy again today. I swear they have to have it out for me or something, or maybe even that tanuki friend of mine.”

“That’s the unfortunate thing about tengu society,” Misumaru responded. “Exceptionalism to a fault, I’d say. That’s just a trio who took that mentality and ran with it unquestioningly. It’s frustrating.”

“I’ll say.” Sannyo took a quick smoke. “So how has today gone for you, dear?”

“Well enough, honestly. Spent most of today catching up with my fellow deities and assorted old folks. Lot of people around here don’t exactly look their age, y’know.”

“Oh, of course, I know that well.” Sannyo half-laughed and moved to sit near Misumaru, shuffling the cards she was holding. “So tell me about how that went.”

“Hmm… well, I started it off by having a little chat with Yukari. You know of her, right? We had a simple conversation about how Reimu’s doing?”

“Reimu? The shrine maiden?”

“Yes, her. I’m regretting not having gotten involved in her life sooner, because sheesh, she is… a mess. You know how long it took me to convince her I wasn’t involved with the tengu during that whole card incident? More than a while! I think that girl gets too caught up in her own head and it leads to her getting too stubborn. She’s… what, 20 years old now? But she acts like a headstrong teenager, it’s ridiculous.”

“I mean, the difference between 20 and 19 isn’t that big, Misumaru, cut the girl some slack.”

Misumaru shrugged, sighed, and slumped in her seat. She supposed Sannyo had a point, but that didn’t mean it had to feel good to admit it. She really just wanted the best for Reimu, to see that shrine maiden who wielded one of her finest creations become the best damn shrine maiden she could be. It was just frustrating seeing her stagnate in her eyes, that was all. So what if she were a bit dramatic about it?

“But… yes, we just talked and… that was about it. We talked about Reimu like I said, about recent incidents…”

“Oh, recent incidents? Which ones?”

“Oh, you know. Mostly the…”

There was a pause. Misumaru knew exactly which incident they were talking about; it was the card incident. But unfortunately, she just walked herself right into a trap. She was gonna have to talk about this now, Sannyo could tell when she was lying; dealing with people constantly bluffing in gambling made her rather observant. All she could really do was delay it, but would that even be worth it?

“...Misumaru? Are you there?”

Damn it, Sannyo noticed. Looekd like she had no choice after all.

“...we were talking about the card incident. And how it seems to have died down since Chimata took back control of the market. Ability cards might finally start slowing down…”

“...hmm.”

Just then, Sannyo’s eyes seemed to perk open. Misumaru glanced at her in confusion; what made her so alert all of a sudden?

“Ah, that reminds me. Thank you for bringing that up, I wanted to show you something. Here, look at these cards.”

Sannyo finally held up the cards she was holding and showed them to Misumaru. The god leaned forward to look closer at them; yep, they sure looked like ability cards, though… something was up with them. They looked… cheap. Flimsy, actually.

“...what’s the issue with these?”

“Take one out. Don’t worry about damaging it.”

Misumaru obliged and picked a random one, lifting it and holding it up to her face to analyze it more closely. Indeed, it was rather cheap and flimsy, but also… powerless. This wasn’t a normal ability card at all; it was a fake. Not a single dragon gem was used in its production.

“Sannyo, this is… a fake card. Why do you have this?”

“To be entirely clear, I still disagree on the issue of the cards,” Sannyo started, “but I get how important this issue is for you. So, I’ve decided to pack it in with the real card trade and move onto the recreational, playing card trade. It’s not as much money, but… well, you being comfortable is important to me, I’m willing to give on that whole thing if it helps you sleep at night.”

Huh. That took a while to sink into Misumaru’s head. So the cards were fake, and Sannyo was… abandoning the card market. For her? That felt… odd to hear, for some reason. Maybe she was expecting something a bit more dramatic, like an actual fight; not that she wanted one, but it felt odd for their little conflict to just… end like this. Maybe even a little awkward, but…

“...really? For me, you really didn’t-”

“Hey, some extra money isn’t worth the strain in our relationship. You deserve to be happy too, don’t forget.”

“...right. Of course.” Misumaru closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and worked to regain her composure. “I thank you, Sannyo. Truly.”

“Of course. For now, I think I’m ready to head off to bed. Ready to turn in, too?”

Misumaru didn’t even need to say anything. She just nodded and stood off, and Sannyo proceeded to head off toward their shared room with the god in tow. Sheesh, even if that conversation didn’t get heated, just the thought of it was enough to stress her out. At the very least this chapter in their relationship was over and they’d be able to move onto simpler, happier topics.

Like whether Sannyo should quit smoking. That certainly won’t cause any issues.

[jjungkooksthighs]

You're stalling sweetie. Give me the details or-

Oh. OH. I see! So he WAS being really rough! I’ve always liked it when Namjoon gets that way with me. Seems you like it, too.

I.. i was being a brat. He gave me an opportunity to be on top, and I took advantage of it. I used it to.. tease him. And I left him hanging.. so he was pissed. And to top it all off, I talked back. A lot.

Wow- i just remembered how much of a brat I was being.

Can you believe that I had the audacity to bite his fucking finger-? Simply because he asked me to keep quiet when i was being a brat?

I.. wow-

Anyways, he got pissed. He broke the table when I tried.. hiding. A chair too. Destroyed my dress. And.. *she pouts* he restricted me from speaking, moving or seeing anything at all! My my, he pulled my fucking hair. Oh- I shouldn't be cursing too.

And.. I don't know.. I was feeling exceptionally bratty. So I continued acting like one.. i continue talking nack, blatantly disobeying everything he had to say. So, he decided to.. leave me alone for a few hours. To.. you know.. as reprimandation, he wanted me to think back on my behaviour.

And boy, did it work. I was crying mess.

And so yeah, now here we are. He decided to use this game as an opportunity for me to learn how to take directions.

But my punishment is yet to come. He's already stated that for the next week.. I can't get replacements for the dresses I 'made' him ruin! (~well.. i guess that's fair) nor can I stay outside past sunset. So yeah, there you have it.

I doesn't surprise me that he got upset with you. You took your teasing too far and didn't give your alpha what he wanted. From what I heard from Namjoon about that particular day, he had had to deal with some trifling matters that the elders brought to his attention.

Something to do with some new toxic plant that has been spreading its roots underground nearby. That's why our crop yield has been lesser this season. They were hounding him to figure out a solution because there have been reports of sick animals in the area.

I imagine he wanted to come home to you and unwind. Alphas have a special way of dealing with stress or irritation, or anger, and it usually is fighting or fucking.

That you weren't doing as he asked probably made him feel like he was losing control of not only the pack's wellbeing, but his mate as well.

He didn't hurt you, did he? If I know Jungkook, and I know him quite well, he would never do anything to harm you. Still, I have to ask. Alphas can sometimes change when they're angry or feeling cornered in the responsibilities of their rank.

I've always wondered what the Pack Alpha is like when he's upset. He wears his emotions on his sleeve, so I've only ever seen him go to the forest so that he didn't involve anyone in it.

I would say I'm sorry about your dresses, but I'm sure you'll get even better ones. Especially if you make it up to him in a way that will show how devoted you are to him. And if you really are intent on devoting yourself to him, I know he'll get you even better ones than the ones you had.

At least, that's how it is with Namjoon when he rips up my own garments. I find I enjoy seeing what ones he replaces look like compared to the last.

[girl-of-many-fandoms]

distractions

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Reader

Summary: Y/N needs a distraction from it all and her fiance is more than willing to give her one.

Warnings: SMUT! 18+ MINORS DNI! Unprotected sex (do the right thing), bondage, Stephen being a tease.

MASTERLIST

---

Y/N’s been stressed out lately with work for the past couple weeks. Just like Stephen, Y/N was also a well known neurosurgeon and lately her list of expired patients has grown exceptionally. For the life of her she couldn’t tell what exactly was the problem; was it her or was her patients too far gone before they got onto the table?

Releasing a heavy sigh, Y/N let herself into her home and locked the door behind her. Stephen closed the book in his hands and put it off to the side, his charming smile slowly dimmed once he saw the glum look on his fiance’s face. He watched as she dropped her keys and purse on the table in the hallway and kicked off her sneakers while fighting to hold back the tears.

“Hunnie?” 

“I’m gonna go take a shower.” 

Y/N headed straight for their bathroom, removing her clothes in the process. She needed to take a shower to wash off the sucky ass day she had, she didn’t even want to be around Stephen because all she saw when she looked at him was the neurosurgeon she’d never be and that made her even more sad. With the cold water running, Y/N stepped under, soaking her entire body from head to toe. 

“I’ll see you when you’ve finished working your magic doc.” 

“I’ll be right here waiting when you wake up.”

The sound of the water hitting the bathroom tiles muffled the ugly sobs she produced as she finally allowed herself to fall apart. Y/N held her hands to her chest, crying at the thought of what her patient’s last words to her were. She failed him, she failed herself and for some reason she felt like she failed Stephen too. 

 Stephen lightly pushed the bathroom door open and his heart broke seeing her in this state. He didn’t waste time stripping down and joined her in the shower; he pulled her back into his chest and wrapped his arms securely around her.

“Stephen please leave me alone.” She hiccupped trying to wiggle her way out of his hold but stopped once she realised that he didn’t plan on letting her go anytime soon. Stephen kissed the back of her head and shoulder, feeling her relax into his touch.

“I’m a failure.”

“You’re not, you’re an incredible surgeon who’s just going through a rough patch right now.”

“I failed my patients, their families, myself, you…” Stephen turned her around to face him but she found more interest in his pectoral muscles than looking up into his eyes. Using his index finger, Stephen tilted her head back forcing her to look at him as he spoke.

“You could never fail me darling. We’ve all lost people on the table, we all knew the risks and doing surgery on someone’s brain isn’t an easy thing to do. You did your best but sometimes, our best isn’t enough.” Stephen was right but she couldn’t help but blame herself still for the loss of her patients. 

“Kiss me.” 

“What?”

“Stephen I need a distraction so, kiss me. Kiss me until I forget everything.” Cupping her face in his hands, Stephen closed the distance between them, gently capturing her lips in a much needed kiss. Y/N guided her hands up his biceps up to his hair and grabbed a handful of it, ripping a groan from his chest.

Stephen backed her up until her back came into contact with the cold tiles; their innocent kiss took a sharp turn. Y/N broke apart for a second lightly biting down on his bottom lip in the process. Stephen’s hands roamed every inch of skin that they came into contact with on her body; she dragged her hands down his chest and abdomen.

“Mhmm.” 

Stephen’s eyes shut feeling her wrap her hand around his shaft, jerking him a couple times. Y/N trailed kisses along his strong jawline and column of his neck, nibbling on his exposed flesh. Stephen nudged her legs apart, running his fingers through her slick folds returning the favour. Y/N bucked her hips into his palm, grinding down on it for more stimulation on her clit. 

“You’re so needy baby.”

With his eyes locked with hers, Stephen lowered himself to his knees and hooked her right leg over his shoulder; he flattened his tongue against her lower lips, coating it in her sweet juices and dragged it up to her bundle of nerves making her squirm above him. Y/N tried to pull his head closer but the sorcerer used one of his handy moves, binding her hands together and holding them above her head.

“No touching.”

“I hate you.” 

Stephen smirked at her before delving back into her nether region licking and sucking, eating her out like a man starved. Y/N’s moans grew louder as Stephen brought her closer and closer to her much needed release. Rubbing his thumb back and forth on her clit, Stephen inserted two of his long digits into her needy hole, curling them to hit the particular spot that always had her squirming and begging for more.

“Fuck…don’t stop.” 

Y/N’s eyes shut in the midst of the pleasure that she was receiving from the sorcerer between her legs. Stephen loved hearing the sweet sounds she produced every time they had sex and he planned on hearing them all night long. Y/N’s walls pulsed as she got closer to her climax.

“Come for me baby, that’s it.” Stephen kept thrusting his fingers into her, smiling at the feeling of her release coating his hand. He replaced his hand with his mouth, lapping up her sweet juices as she grounded her cunt on his face.

“Stephen, I need you.” She dropped her leg from his shoulder as he stood up. Stephen motioned for her to turn around and she did, bending over with her palms on the wall for support. He jerked himself a couple times, lining himself up with her cunt. Stephen slowly inserted the tip of his cock in and removed it a couple times teasing her with what she craved most right now.

“Stephen please, stop teasing.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” 

Stephen didn’t leave room for her to rebut as he buried himself in her heat, stretching her out completely. Placing both hands on her hips, Stephen began pounding into her at a moderate pace. Their moans mixed with the slapping of skin on skin filled the bathroom which only encouraged him to continue his actions. 

Stephen pulled her hair back into a ponytail and pulled her head back to crash his lips against hers. Y/N pushed herself back to meet his thrusts; his fingers found her bundle of nerves again, stimulating her further.

“O-oh shit. I’m gonna-”

“Hold it.��

Stephen continued to fuck her into oblivion ensuring that Y/N was too preoccupied thinking about his cock buried inside of her rather than the recent crap she’s been dealing with at work. His thrusts became uneven as he chased his release; Y/N chanted his name like she was saying a prayer, begging to come. 

“Come for me babygirl.”

With a cry of his name, Y/N came on his cock, her walls clamped down on him which triggered his climax as well. Stephen bit down on her shoulder as he emptied his seed deep within her. He thrusted a couple more times as they rode out their high before completely removing himself. 

Y/N smiled feeling his sticky release seep from her cunt and down her inner thighs. Stephen released her arms from their binds and shut the water off.

"Come here." She pulled him down to meet her halfway, crashing their lips together. Stephen hoisted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist. The sorcerer took them into their adjoining room and placed her on the bed. 

"Uh uh Strange, my turn." 

Y/N mustered all her strength and flipped them over; she was now straddling his lap while he lay there admiring her blissed out state.

"As you wish." 

---

MARVEL Taglist:

@dorks2022 @sophiaedits @peakascum @anonymoustip217 @iiddaaa @panaitbeatrice @n3ssm0nique @mintphoenix @inas-thing @sketch-and-write-lover @friskae @bernthalbabe43 @trinkets01 @blackcat420 @justreadingficsdontmindme @bakingpotatoes21 @hardcoppizzasludge @tanyaherondale @creatingjana @calimoi @rootcrop @louisianalady @chrisfucksblog @thummbelina @vicmc624 @leyannrae @janaev4ns @queenofkings1212 @believinghurts @poor-unfortunate-soul-85 @stumbleonmywords @youarethereasonimsmiling @juxtaposition-exe @wanda-1 @katzenwahnsinn @v0idl1nq @winksasleeplesseye

[starlightrows]

2 — Fresh Start

Hiding In Plain Sight

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Pairing: Commander Wolffe x reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Canon typical violence, mention of vomiting

Summary: You accept an offer for a more permanent assignment and run into trouble pretty much the moment you get there

A few weeks after your unauthorized rescue mission, a transfer document appears in your inbox. You read through the document, finding it no different from the others you’ve filled out before, save for the note at the bottom. 

I hope you were serious about joining the 104th, it seems we are in need of a new field medic 

— CC 3636 Commander Wolffe 

You’ve spent a couple months loosely with the 501st, the men are so close, and you’ve grown rather fond of Ashoka and General Skywalker. But it’s never felt like quite the right fit. Maybe the 104th will be a nice change of pace. They are basically having to build a new battalion from the ground up. General Plo is well respected and exceptionally kind. And there’s something about that Commander Wolffe that you just can’t seem to shake. 

Another week later you’re on a transport ship to Kamino to meet up with your new battalion. The 501st took your leaving relatively well. Exchanged hugs and promises to see one another again. Ahsoka was delighted you were going to serve under General Plo, she studies with him often and considers the Wolf Pack as much her family as the 501st. 

You’ve never been to Kamino before, though the men have told you about it countless times. Cold, stormy, the city lights are artificially bright, and everything feels calculated and sterile. And they aren’t wrong. From the moment you land there you can see that they weren’t exaggerating in any way. 

“Good to see you again Captain” General Plo welcomes you 

“And you General. Glad to be here as well” you answer with a smile, adjusting the large duffle that contains all of your belongings on your shoulder 

“Come” he gestures for you to follow him “I’m sure you remember my commanding officer, Wolffe” 

“You’re looking well Commander” you smile at him. 

He looks… well he looks a bit stiff and awkward at the moment. Maybe he didn’t think you would accept his offer to join the team. Or maybe today is just an uncomfortable day for him given he’s now in command of a mismatched battalion that wasn’t raised together or even worked together before. You decided it’s the latter. 

“You… erm… I’m glad you accepted the transfer. I was concerned I’d have to work with a medic I’m unfamiliar with” he manages to get out as the three of you walk the eerily bright halls of Tipoca City. 

“Ah, yes. Take it from someone who’s been reassigned more times than I can count, it’s tough to break the ice” you chuckle 

“Hm” he nods, leading you into the temporary barracks room the 104th has been using during reassignment training. When he opens the door, all heads in the room turn towards you. 

“Attention!” Wolffe commands. The men fall into like standing at attention to greet you and the General. Wolffe introduces you with your full name and rank “She is our new field medic and as much a member of this team as any of you. At ease” 

The men in the room relax and come up to shake your hand. You remember Sinker and Boost, who greet you and ask how you’ve been since the rescue mission. The new members all seem pretty welcoming. 

First is their pilot, Slush whose hair has grown out past what you’d think it’s considered regulation. He’s got a charming smile and already has you laughing along with him. 

Next is Mav, with a shaved head and a big welcoming smile. You estimate that he’s probably one of the older generations of clones, but can’t put your finger on why. 

Cinder who has jarringly rough hands, “You’re probably gonna land up patching me up quite a bit” he chuckles sheepishly. 

“Get into trouble often?” You ask with a laugh 

“You could say that” he jokes 

Comet, who you realize you’ve met before. “I thought you were with the 468th!” 

“I put in for a transfer when I heard  the Wolf Pack needed some fresh blood” it’s not much of an explanation, and you’re sure there’s more to it. But you leave it there for now. 

Then there is Jag and Cricket. Both of them are young and ambitious. But in different ways. Cricket is polite and unassuming, but you can see the way he looks around at everyone when they talk and laugh. Like he doesn’t want to laugh at the wrong time or wrong thing. 

Jag is more bold. Telling you quickly that he is excited to work with you and anxious to get out there and start being of real value to the war effort. 

They are both obviously shinies given their pearly white plastoid armor. They haven’t earned their paint yet. You glance around at the men. None of them match yet. Wolffe, Sinker and Boost are still sporting crimson accents. Mav’s armor is scratched, scraped, and has a few blaster burns but it doesn’t look like it was ever painted. Cinders appears to have some black paint added here and there, but nothing that seems intentional or decided. Comet has sage green paint on his helmet and vambraces. Slush is still fully decorated in purple paint. 

These men may seem mismatched and have vastly different levels of experience, but you’re feeling optimistic about it so far. It seems everyone in this battalion needs a fresh start. 

“Given that we no longer have the flagship The Triumphant to oportate out of, our battalion is being relocated to a new Republic base until our fleet is ready. So collect your gear and meet on the shuttle” Wolffe informs them 

Given that you already have your gear you just follow Commander Wolffe towards the hanger. 

“This is quite the group commander” you observe 

“They’ve been here a while already” he admits “They’re… still getting used to each other” 

“You don’t sound impressed with them” you say quirking a brow, inviting him to further explain 

“I’m concerned. Some of them have never even been in the field” he says “Others seem a little overzealous” 

“They’ll learn Commander” you assure him 

“Hm” he grumbles 

Everyone loads up in the shuttle. Quickly packing in gear and getting on board. Slush climbs up into the cockpit to get the engines going. 

“Hey Doc” he calls down “You know how to copilot at all?” 

It catches you a little off guard, “Um, yeah I’ve flown before. Why, you need a co up there?” 

You glance around at your new squad. No one else seems to be volunteering, except Jag looks mildly put off. Though, you’re sure he doesn’t have any piloting experience, so you’re not sure why he’d be upset. 

“Come on up Doc, we’re mapped to travel through an asteroid belt and I could use an extra set of eyes up here” he calls down to you 

You glance over to Wolffe and General Plo, asking permission with your eyes. Unsure if they’re the types to want to give clearance for such things. General Plo doesn’t seem to notice or mind, he’s engaged in conversation with Sinker at the moment. Wolffe nods his head up towards the cockpit “Off you go, Captain” 

You shrug and climb up to the cockpit and slide into the copilot's seat. You’ve flown ships in the past, not this particular type of shuttle but the controls look the same. So you go through the full preflight check and get the bird in the air.

Kamino’s dense rainstorms make for a slightly tricky take off, but once you’re up and out of the atmosphere it’s smooth sailing. Slush flips on the auto navigation and glances over at you with a boyish smirk 

“I gotta know” he says “How did we land up with a mail order medic?” 

You laugh at the idea of it “Mail order? How long has this team been together waiting for a medic?” 

“Like three weeks. Commander Wolffe turned down six perfectly good medics” Slush tells you “I figured he already had someone in mind, but you’re not what I expected. So I gotta know, how did you land up on the Commander Wolffe’s list?” 

“Stars…. I’ve only met him once. I was on the rescue crew that went back for him and the rest of the 104th after the Battle of Abregado” you explain 

“Mmm… you must have made quite the impression” he comments 

“Can’t imagine why. He never even saw me in the field” you consider this fact, why did he request for you to transfer to his command?

“You must have done something to gain his trust. Commander Wolffe is a pretty particular guy” Slush shrugs 

“Alright then, how did you land up being the pilot for the most particular commander in the GAR?” You ask 

“I was actually originally a member of the 104th when the war first started, I got recruited to fly for the 187th” he tells you 

“Really? You worked alongside General Windu?” You ask 

“Oh yeah. The 187th are good guys, but to be honest purple isn’t my color and just wasn’t the right fit” he says 

“We’ll have to get everyone some crimson paint then” you say. But even as the words come out of your mouth, they feel sad and empty. 

“I think… I think Wolffe wants to pick a new color. Crimson was their color, if we’re gonna be a team and work well together, we need to have our own story our own colors ya know” Slush says, matching your somber tone

You nod “I suppose you’re right. I’m sure the team will come together well in time, we just need— agh!”  

Suddenly the ship starts violently shaking. The ship drops out of hyperspace and is under fire. 

“Slush! What’s going on up there?” Commander Wolffe growls 

You pull up one of the scanners and see there are two gunships tailing you. 

“We dropped out of hyperspace!” You call down to the squad “Someone’s shooting at us!” 

“Who?” General Plo calls 

“I don’t know sir” Slush yells down “We’re taking heavy fire!” 

Down below, the men strap into their landing harnesses, and prepare for a bumpy ride. General Plo attempts to reach out into the Force and feel for any intentions of malevolence. 

You pull up the navigation system, while Slush tries to evade the blasts. The star map indicates that you’re not in Separatist territory, obviously Slush wouldn’t have programmed a route that would take the team through Separatist controlled space as it is. But this system is unincorporated and considered neutral. Based on what you’re seeing, there might not even be sentient inhabitants in this system. This ship is not equipped to handle a major fire fight like this. 

“Can we jump?” You ask him, frantically trying to determine if the in range planet has hospitable conditions for your squad 

“No. I don’t know how, but they pulled us from hyperspace and disabled our core. We’re gonna need to get them off our tail and make repairs” he says 

“Well good news then, the air down there is breathable and its star is far enough away we won’t freeze or burn the second we land” you tell him, putting away the scanner

“Good enough” He says, turning a switch to put the ship steering to manual and solely his console. His typically relaxed and easy going nature is replaced by a focused and determined expression. You haven’t known him more than a few hours but you can tell, this is a deviation from his usual demeanor. 

“Everybody hand on!” He hollers with a slight turn of his head. 

Everyone below grips their safety harnesses and tries not to let any of the others see how utterly terrified they all are.

Slush expertly changes course and begins a rapid descent towards the planet’s surface. The enemy ship is hot on your tail, blasting at you with everything they’ve got. This little shuttle ship has blasters to return fire. This is a game of evasion. 

The planet seems to be some kind of massive jungle ribboned with twisting rivers and canals that remind you of Coruscant’s super highways. Under any other circumstances you would be fascinated and awed by the scenery, but right now you’re just trying not to scream by clenching your teeth. 

Slush angles the ship down towards the surface and makes a nose dive. The enemy ship sprays a maelstrom of blaster fire down at you and pursues with full force. While you’re putting in all of your mental effort into not screaming or giving up your lunch, you can hear below that not all of the men are quite as successful as you. 

The tops of the trees are becoming more and more clear through the front view shield. Briefly you wonder if Slush intends to crash the shuttle through the underbrush or maybe he has a death wish. But at literally the last second he pulls up and the ships under belly through rips the uppermost branches of the trees. Behind you the other ship does not pull up so fast. It crashes down through the foliage and you hear more than see the massive explosion that follows. 

You turn and look across the cockpit at Slush, whose death grip on the controls seems to have loosened considerably. 

“Alright, I say we take a little jungle cruise and try to figure out whose starship insurance just skyrocketed!” He says brightly, as if the last fifteen minutes of pure terror was nothing more than a breezey shuttle jump. 

“Uhhh… I’d better go confer with General Plo and Commander Wolffe” you say, a little dazed 

You make your way down to the hold and find some men in better conditions than others. Mav is patting Cricket’s back while he vomits into what appears to be an unused gear bag. Sinker and Boost both seem to be okay, Cinder and Comet both look a little green around the gills, but doing their best to keep it together. Jag hovers anxiously by the ladder up to the cockpit. General Plo and Wolffe both seem alright, and are speaking to each other hurriedly, they both look up at you as if they’d been waiting when you step down into the hold. 

“Captain, what does it look like out there?” General Plo asks 

“Appears to be a jungle planet sir” you answer “Slush was saying he thinks it would be a good idea to check out the crash site to see if we can determine who was trying to shoot us” 

Wolffe grumbles, the squad is already late as it is to report in at their new base. But, it would be worse to show up late and not have any intel from this unfortunate occurrence. 

“Alright” he relents “But let’s be quick about it” 

You nod and head back up into the cockpit to relay the information to Slush “And, try to make it a smooth landing will ya?” 

“Is Cricket throwing up?” He asks, feeling a little guilty 

“Yeah, Cinder and Comet aren’t far behind him. I’m gonna go back down there and get them some ginger tabs” you tell him 

“I’ll give us a smooth landing” he says a little sheepishly “Tell the boys I’m sorry” 

You give his shoulder a pat and head back down to go take care of your sick squadmates. But before you can get to your medical bags Jag stops you

“Uh, hey Doctor… mind if I take your spot up there?” 

“Oh? Uh, yeah sure. I’m sure Slush won’t mind” you shrug. That is all the permission he needs, Jag disappears up the ladder and into the cockpit. Well that is one less flight sick crew member you have to worry about. 

You get to work making sure everyone looking even a little pukey to take ginger tabs and drink water, and inform them that Slush isn’t anticipating any sort of rough landing. 

True to his word the flight back to the shipwreck is quick and smooth. By the time he has the ship touched down on the bank of one of the many winding rivers Cricket is looking a little better and everyone is ready to walk around a bit and stretch their legs. 

When you step off the shuttle you find that your battalion is not alone. It seems the locals on this planet not only saw and heard your firefight, but had come out in the masses to examine the wreckage. General Plo goes to make first contact. 

He introduces himself and the squadron and does his best to explain the situation to the locals. Wolffe orders the men to start going through the wreckage and look for evidence that would explain who or what was chasing you. You stand behind General Plo, prepared to help answer questions. 

The local people that live in this region express that they have not met many beings from other planets. Not many of their people leave their planet, and even fewer outsiders arrive on this planet. Intentional or otherwise. 

Wolffe comes up to you and taps your shoulder, you turn to him and face away from the General and his conversation with the locals. He leans over and puts his lips by your ear.

“The ship is full of Separatist droids” he whispers “Find out if they know anything about it” 

You lean away from him and nod, but you can’t help the warmth that creeps into your cheeks from his unexpected proximity. 

“Forgive me General” you speak up “What do you call your planet?” 

“Eris” one of the locals replies 

“Is Eris affiliated with the republic?” You ask

“No. We were extended an offer many years ago. But we declined. We have nothing to offer your republic and you have nothing we want in return. Neutrality seemed the right choice for us” an older woman explains 

“And you remain neutral in the war?” You ask, a little surprised 

“Indeed. There is no war here. The people in our nine regions coexist in harmony. And it has been to our advantage that we are largely ignored by the larger, more incorporated systems in our galaxy” another chimes in.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I do not believe your world is being entirely ignored in this war. That ship that crashed was not one of ours. It pulled us out of hyperspace when we came into range of your planet and attempted to shoot us down” you gesture to the wreckage “It is a Seperatist ship. I have a bad feeling they may either have plans to incorporate your planet or already be secretly occupying it on one of the other regions” 

“The people of Eris would never consent to join an outside government” someone cries out 

“And I believe you, my friend. But the Separatists do not take no for an answer. They will take your planet by force if they are denied access to your allegiance and natural resources” 

A murmur rises up in the crowd. Whispers about the Separatists and the republic. 

“Please. I understand your desire for independence and sovereignty. But the Separatists are merciless and will take from you what they want with no regard for who they hurt” 

The crowd continues to murmur amongst themselves until another speaks up to be a voice for the group “We will need to convene a meeting of the regions” 

“We would be happy to provide you with any resources, medicine, supplies that you or any of the other regions may need” you offer “We must return to our base, but would it be alright if we send republic diplomats to speak with you about a potential alliance?”

“That would be acceptable” 

You and the men bid the locals goodbye, and leave them with a com device the diplomatic can use to contact them when they come to negotiate at a later time. 

“You did well” General Plo comments as you walk between him and Commander Wolffe back to your shuttle. 

“Thank you General. I hope I didn’t overstep by extending that offer” you rub the back of your neck a bit sheepishly 

“Not at all my dear. Your approach was kind and welcoming. I believe they will join the republic in time” General Plo says “Now then. Commander I believe we have a schedule to keep” 

“Yes sir” Wolffe says before looking over his shoulder to holler back to the men “On the double boys! Let’s go!”

They hurry after you to the ship and get loaded up. Mav had stayed behind to make repairs to the ship and it was purring like a kitten, ready to go. 

The trip back to the base is smooth and uneventful, but you also had no desire to be copilot again. So you let a very eager Jag take your place. Instead you sat down in the hold next to Commander Wolffe. 

“So, a brand new wolf pack” you say with a bit of a smile “They’re not so bad eh” 

“No. They did well during our emergency landing. And seem to be taking orders well now that we’re not all cooped up on Kamino” he admits 

“Can I ask you something Commander?” You venture 

“Shoot” 

“Slush told me that you turned down more than a few perfectly qualified medics, and instead made me offer to transfer. Any particular reason why?” You hope to get an actual answer from him, and not a militaristic ‘your qualifications matched’ sort of line. 

“Rex speaks very highly of you” he says honestly “But, after what happened on the Triumphant. Losing our entire squad. I’ve been craving some… familiarity. Slush came back without me even asking. And you… you’re a good medic” He says “At the end of the day, you took care of me and the boys after the Triumphant. I hoped you’d be able to keep looking after us and patching us up”

“Hmm… is that why you’re feeling a bit on edge about Jag and Cricket?” You nod your head towards Cricket and Cinder where they sit on the opposite side of the shuttle. “They’re unfamiliar?”

“All of them really. They’re all my brothers. But… you know what it’s like… you get attached to your squad” he sighs 

“I know exactly what you mean” you agree 

Inwardly, Wolffe had hoped you would not ask him that question. He did tell you the truth. But selfishly, he wanted you to be the medic for his squad because he couldn’t stop thinking about you. You were the first person he saw after he woke up. He can hear you call out his name when he thinks back to waking up in that overly bright recovery room. He felt comforted by your voice. 

General Plo had advised him not to agonize over choosing new servicemen to form the new battalion, but follow his intuition if he had gut feelings on anyone. And he had a gut feeling about you. 

[the-modern-typewriter]

How long would you say it takes for a request on Patreon to be responded to bc I requested one almost 2 months ago so basically I'm asking how long is the wait list?!

That depends slightly on a) how many stories are in the queue at any given time (it can fluctuate) and b) if I get really, really stuck on the request.

Short answer: I try to not let it get past roughly two months for non Fast Track requests. I am currently working on the requests that came in during July.

Longer answer...

So, I write about three new stories up on Patreon a week. Or, at least, I aim for at least three, sometimes do more, but at least three.

Fast Track ($7 +) gets prioritised and done within a week/2 weeks if I have an exceptionally large amount of Fast Track requests for whatever reason. Either way, they go to the top of the list. For different people, I tend to try and do one Fast Track a week. So, for example, if you are one person and request three stories, and are on Fast Track, I'll aim to do one a week because I feel that's fairer as I then fit in other Fast Track requests also.

Non Fast Track goes onto a word document on my laptop that never closes, where I try to work through stories in vaguely chronological order around Fast Track requests. I say vaguely chronological, because though I do my best, I do occasionally get stuck on a story and need to mull it over because I'd rather wait than force something. AKA, I'd rather put out what I feel is going to be good content than post something knowing it's not great because I'm completely forcing it. Or sometimes it means I need to find time to re-read a lot of work, if it's been a while since a particular story has been updated and it's a longer piece, which means I need more mental time to work through the request.

As a rough estimate, I tend to have between 10-20 stories on the word doc at any given time (including Fast Track). At the time I am answering this question, I have 16/17 (/ because I have a request for the same story from two different people) in the queue. This is not including any that I am just trying to keep up with somewhat consistently like For Kingdom, Come and The Forbidden Section and (god help me) Adrian and Demarion (I have a literal writing holiday booked off from work to try and get that one finished/done!)

With the three a month rule, that's approx 12 stories/story additions a month, which means currently 2 months approx wait on new requests.

I try not to let it get past two months, as much as humanly possible, but, alas. I am human. And stories can be finnicky.

In case it is helpful, the next four (AKA end of this week and next) on my list are:

a continuation of the clone story (Fast Track)

a continuation of the enemy of my enemy (non Fast Track)

a (Fast Track) request about monsters under the bed

either a continuation of Thorne/Mandel the story or Game of Spies and Dancing (depending on which I have more inspiration for that day) (non Fast Track)

I hope this helps as a general explanation of my process!

My Patreon Masterlist of stories is here

[shoot-the-oneshot]

counting the days: day 6

Series summary. You go to a friends bachelorette party in Italy and meet the man of your dreams, NOT, you didn’t see the part where you get kidnapped by a gangster on your friends itinerary. How will you handle being thrown into a life of guns and mafias.

Series masterlist

A/n wow thank you all for the love this series has gotten I know it’s been a while since I’ve updated I was going through a lot but I’m back now and can’t wait to get back into it.

Massimo Torricelli x Reader

"Do you want to go home?"

you're sure you stopped breathing. after everything now he says that! its a test it has to be.

Massimo, who felt you freeze from where you were pressed back against his chest reaches his hand down to grip your hip through the sheets. not in the way you were used to feeling his touch. aggressive, rough, controling. no, this was soft and caring. you didnt know what to think now. you sucked in a quick breath when his nose nuzzled behind your ear. his gravely tone vibrating though you.

"we can go back to italy for a few weeks if you want."

"what?" you asked turning over to face him. he mustve taken your confusion as concerns because his hand moved from your hip to caress the side of your face. "its not a trick, you tell me what part you’re from and we can leave right now." oh....you didnt notice before but glancing down at your phone the picture you were looking at weren’t of home, it was from the bachelorette party, he thinks youre from italy. you didnt want to leave, but now that the chance is there. "No" you could tell he was surprised,

"lets go somewhere else just the two of us." mimmicing his hand on your face you could feel his head slowly nodding in your palm. clearly your want to stay with him after what happend and your affection has disstracted him enough to mistake the hope for freedom in your eyes as excitement, just like you knew it would, as you said before. you were his weakness and tonight proved it.

"I want to go to Y/hometown, Ive always wanted to visit." the lie slipped out easily. his lips brushing against yours as he spoke. "ill call the pilot."

the next day you were back home, not that Massimo knew that but you played tourist exceptionally well.

you waited till he was asleep, you didnt believe in fate untill he rolled off of you he’d been holding you in his sleep for the past two hours. forcing yourself not to move to quickly in your excitement, quitely opening the door, not bothering to grab anything. clothes be dammed and you knew he would track your phone all you needed was to run. and thats exactly what you did the second the door closed. you felt like your heart was going to burst out of your chest with how fast it was beating. 'come on come on' you whispered to yourself, you could only imagine what it looked like to the few people still in the lobby as you ran barefoot out the elevator full speed. your hair whipping around your face as you looked for a way to go. spotting the car across the street you ran for it narrowly missing getting hit by a car that slammed the breaks at the last second. yelling a ‘sorry’ over your shoulder, practically diving into the passenger seat yelling for them to drive. "geez Y/N, you almost died,'' Ally screached, jumping in her seat. looking at you with wide eyes. "Drive Ally, now!" your yells put her in gear as she sped off. have you ever been so relived that you start laughing hysterically? because thats exactly what happeed the farther you got from the hotel. Ally kept looking at you like you were crazy, "where have you been? and why are you at a hotel?" she shot question after question at you. when you turned to look at her you felt overwhelmed, you were home, with your bestfriend. and still there was a small pit in your stomach you wont pay attention to right now. Blinking the tears back at you watch the familiar streets go by.

"Is he hot though?"

once you both got back to her house she didnt let you escape her questioning so you explained everything from bumping into Massimo at the hotel to where you are now, and of course the only thing she asks after you tell her you get kidnapped by a mafia boss is if hes atractive.

"yes Ally, he's hot is that all you took from that?" you sighed exasperated, leaning back on the couch some reality show playing in the background. sensing your mood she came to sit with you, leaning her head on your shoulder. "I'm glad you're back."

"Me too"

after a few weeks of laying low with no sign of Massimo on your tail, you deemed it safe to run to the store for a late night craving of ice cream. oh but how you wish you would've stayed at the house.

you didnt hear their footsteps untill they were on you. your yells going unheard in the practically abandoned parking lot as you were grabbed from behind, clawing at the bag over your head still struggling against your attacker. A chill going down your spine as you recognize the voice.

"Massimo can't save you this time"

Series tag list: @calirindo @salvatorecan-wait @mjaudrey @omgsuperstarg @jojosgirlkat1dluvr @bat-luna-cat @queentorresstuff @viktoria12 @thenyousaidhello @posiemax @sydney-m

[ikehoe]

Can I request a licht x female reader smut please?

Of course! You didn't specify what kind of scenario but hope you like it.

Adoration

Licht Klein - Ikemen Prince

Rated: Explicit - Smut (18+ only - MDNI)

Tags: PIV, Creampie, Fingering

Description: The sweet-hearted Licht has been your bodyguard for a couple of weeks now - meaning he's staying in your bedroom at night. What happens when one of you acts on the obvious sexual tension between you two?

A/N: Thanks for requesting, anon!

Fic under cut

It was yet another night at the Rhodolite palace where the 6th Prince, Licht Klein, had been performing his duties of being a bodyguard for you exceptionally well. Despite the Prince's professionalism and gentle nature, you hadn't slept a wink since the first day he'd been assigned as your bodyguard. Ever since you vowed to get to know Prince Licht better as the appointed Belle, there had been palpable tension between the two of you. It had gotten that much worse the closer you two became, especially now that he began to offer you a rare gentle smile here and there.

Although the Prince seemed to be opening up to you day by day, the issue at hand still remained. He seemed hell-bent on pushing you away, frequently stating that he "hated women like you" with an unreadable expression on his face. What made matters all the more confusing was that you two had developed an impromptu bedtime routine of the Prince trying to lull you to sleep by caressing your hair and singing to you every night.

With a nearly inaudible sigh, you rolled over under the covers of your lush bed. It had to be the fiftieth time you rolled over when you heard the telltale sign of Licht Klein shifting on the couch - likely ready to get up and attempt to lull you to sleep. Although you were tucked under the covers of your bed, the frigid air still managed to wrack a shiver through your body. The castle seemed to directly reflect its royal inhabitants - luxurious but cold.

"What's the matter, Belle?" Licht's deep voice rang out, cutting through the silence of the room. "Have you always been such a troublesome sleeper, or is there another reason why you've been shuffling around for the past hour?"

The Prince looked down at your figure tucked underneath the covers and frowned. It had already been a headache to try and convince Licht to stay in your room with you. You didn't want to admit that another possible reason for your lack of sleep was his presence near you. It wasn't that he scared you or intimidated you. In fact, it was nearly the opposite. You couldn't will your frantic heart to stay calm around him. With every passing day and every inadvertent kind gesture he showed to you, you felt your resolve in keeping your word as Belle dissolving away.

"It just takes me a while to sleep, Prince Licht," you responded, almost able to convince yourself of your bald-faced lie. A couple moments of silence passed between you when you felt a gentle weight shift on your bed. Shortly after, the Prince's rough but large hands found your head and began soothingly running his hands through your hair.

"I see," Licht responded, crimson-red eyes trained on your face. Unbeknownst to you, the 6th Prince had always found you stunning - your radiance permeated every corner of every room you were in. Initially, he found it painful to look at. He'd tried everything to push you away, even pathetic attempts at making you hate him, but everything just made you try harder to get to know him. It was impossible to get you out of his mind. Although it had begun as innocent thoughts of your smile and bright laughter, it soon turned evolved into something else. There were nights when you would fall asleep after tossing and turning, not realizing that the covers had slipped from your body and your lightly clad torso was exposed to him. What made matters worse was the way he was able to see your shapely breasts, nipples slowly pebbling with the drafty air in the room.

"Licht, may I ask you for a favour?" You started, trying to sink into the covers even more. With the change in temperature, it seemed as though winter were truly approaching.

You paused, waiting for the Prince to answer, but after a few seconds of silence, you opened your eyes only to see the Prince's expectant gaze on you as he gave a curt nod.

"I'm still freezing."

"Shall I give you my jacket?" Licht asked in response, immediately moving to start unbuttoning the buttons on his wolf-fur trimmed jacket.

"No, I ... I should have specified. I think I need something a little warmer, I'm sorry. I'm not used to these large rooms. My room back in town is small, so it's easy for me to throw a couple logs on the fireplace to get it warmed up..." Though the tension between the two of you before was palpable, your explanation had made it all that much worse. The silence hung between the two of you, neither willing to make the first move. Your heartbeat was racing through your chest, and you could swear that if the Prince were listening closely, he could hear it even from where he was sitting.

The Prince felt a familiar twitch in his nether regions at your suggestive invitation. Every part of his mind was screaming at him to stop and return to the sofa. Perhaps even begin to think some very innocent thoughts about something unrelated, even military affairs tasks he had to delegate the next day, anything other than the implication behind your words. However, try as he might, he succumbed to his base desires. His eyes roamed over your plush lips and innocent face, an opposing combination that had appeared many times in his most secret and dirty dreams at night.

"I really hate women like you," Licht finally said, sounding every bit as convincing as when Yves started another no-sugar diet.

Soon, you felt yourself swept into his toned and muscular arms. His chest was pressed against your back, and you couldn't help but notice that he had deliberately left a couple of inches between his crotch and your rear. Your nipples hardened in anticipation at the thought of feeling his arousal pressing against you. A familiar heat began to form in the pit of your belly, paired with a nagging voice in your head that urged you to push the Prince to his limits.

"I'm still cold, Licht," you whispered, pushing yourself further against his chest and body. Suddenly, you felt a hardness pressing against your back. With an awkward cough, Licht attempted to jolt back and put distance between you two again when you reached your hand up and rested it on his. "Don't move away, please. I... I want to be close to you."

Stilling at your words, Licht sighed and felt his restraint crumble around him. Then, slowly but surely, he began to run his hands down the curves of your body. "Is this... alright?"

"Keep going," you urged breathlessly as his hand moved dangerously near your pussy. It was as if a string had snapped between the two of you. Boldly, you shifted your rear and deliberately rubbed yourself against his groin. A heated groan fell from his lips, and it sent a jolt straight to your own crotch. It was getting harder and harder to ignore the wetness that had begun dripping past your cunt onto your thighs, and you silently begged Licht to give you relief in the area you needed it most.

One of his hands reached up and began gently kneading your breast, eliciting a breathy moan from your lips.

"You certainly seem warm enough now, Belle," Licht murmured into your ear.

The sheer nightgown you frequently wore to bed was doing little to stop the delicious sensations the Prince was drawing from your body with his gentle touches. A jolt of pleasure ran through you as his hot tongue flicked your earlobe, then gently sucked it between his plush lips.

"I need you, Licht," you gasped out.

You could feel the Prince's lips curve as he left a trail of kisses down your shoulder, stopping every now and then to leave a pretty purple mark on you. His hand began to snake its way down the front of your body, and you felt his finger gently caress your wet cunt. Spurred on by the gasps and moans that were now frequently spilling from your mouth, he prodded your pussy with two fingers, groaning darkly as your cunt eagerly accepted it with little resistance.

"You're so wet. Have you... have you been thinking about this for a long time?" Licht asked, a hint of incredulity in his voice. Never in his wildest dreams could he imagine that he had a shot with such a pure and beautiful soul like you. Sure, there were moments when you would tell him how much you adored him, but he told himself that your adoration for him had to be strictly platonic.

"Licht, I've been dreaming about this for a while...Ah, yes, right there," you moaned out as his slender, and long fingers curved up and gently coaxed the ridged spot in your pussy. Soon, you felt his fingers shift faster and faster, bringing you closer to your release with each movement.

"Oh, Licht, please keep going, please," you begged him, eyes squeezing shut with the familiar warmth spreading through your body. "Fuck, yes! Right there!"

Like a coil snapping, your vision went white as waves of pleasure ran through you. You barely recognized the Prince's gentle and comforting whispers as you slowly came down from your release.

After a couple of seconds, you turned to face the Prince and was pleasantly surprised at the sight awaiting you. The tips of Licht's ears and cheeks were a bright vermillion, nearly matching his beautiful crimson eyes in shade. His gaze upon you was dark and lustful. With a tug of his hand, you felt his lips crash on yours, and weeks of passion spilled forth with every shift of his tongue against yours. You reached down and unbuttoned his pants, tugging them off his body quickly. As soon his impressive length was revealed, you hooked your leg over his body and began to grind up against his hardened length, moaning into his mouth at the sensation of him rubbing against your clit.

"Are you sure about this?" Licht asked, raising your gaze to his own crimson ones. Of course, Licht would be kind even when you were ready to kneel before him and beg him to take you any way he wanted. The gentle Prince had never once made you feel uncomfortable or pushed you for anything.

In response, you smiled up at the Prince and captured his lips in yet another passionate kiss. Then, as the two of you explored each other's mouths with your tongues, you felt the pleasurable stretch of his cock against your entrance. It seemed as though Licht was waiting for you to give the signal that you were okay before going deeper. Arms wrapped around his broad shoulders, you gently whispered against his lips and urged him to continue.

What came next was what could only be akin to true passionate love-making as Licht relentlessly dove into your cunt over and over. You could barely keep up as the Prince hooked his arm under your leg, drawing you in closer to him. The shift in angle had you writhing in pleasure underneath him as you moaned out his name, urging him to keep claiming you as his.

"Yes, Licht, that feels so good, please! I need... I need to cum!" You squealed, burrowing your face against his shoulder.

In response, Licht recaptured your lips once again in a sloppy yet passionate kiss and continued delving towards the spot that had you crying out for more.

"Cum on my cock for me, Belle," Licht grunted, staring into your eyes with an intensity you never knew was possible for the stoic Prince.

With a final cry, you reached your release. The inadvertent pulsing of your pussy drew out a groan from the silver-haired Prince as he filled you with his seed.

You rested your forehead against his as both of you came down from your high. With a gentle smile, Licht drew you in close to his arms again and rubbed your back comfortingly. Whatever had possessed you to be so bold with your invitation to him had clearly worked. Although the line you two crossed tonight would be challenging for both of you in the future, especially with your respective statuses in society, you just couldn't let this connection go.

"I'm sorry if I hurt you... Do... Do you still adore me?" Licht asked quietly. It was rare to see such a vulnerable side of the stoic lone wolf of Rhodolite. In fact, it was rare for most people to see any side of Licht at all, outside of the one that was constantly pushing people away. It was just another part of his charm that had absolutely captured your heart.

"I will always adore you, Licht," you whispered back to him with a smile.

[teklarn]

𝔂𝓸𝓾'𝓻𝓮 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓶𝔂 𝓫𝓸𝔂𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭 - 𝓴. 𝓫𝓪𝓴𝓾𝓰𝓸𝓾

character(s): katuski bakugou x gn!reader 

a/n : y’all this was gonna be for kirishima bc i love possessive kiri but like it works so well with bakugou. first part will be from third pov, following parts will be from second pov (reblogs are greatly appreciated !! <3)

summary: bakugou x gn!reader. they have feelings for one another but have no idea how to express them, however y/n has someone pining for their attention. 

genre: uhh idk a lil bit teeny-weeny dash of angst i guess 

warnings: mild cursing, possessive bakugou, mutual pining, jealousy, aged-up to third year, possessive y/n, love triangle (square?), implied manga spoilers but not directly stated, tiny bitta tokage slander (sorry lol), slow burn romance (like SLOWWW SLOW BURN), lowkey enemies to lovers, like a lotta tension between bakugou and y/n 

word count: 3k

UNEDITED w/ minimal or no typos. i shoved it into grammarly’s ass and prayed for the best okay 

here’s pt 2 loves <3

- - - 

y/n was used to picking and their skin, irritated at the girls fawning over bakugou. they were always on the sidelines, watching from afar, jealousy warping their heart. could these stupid girls not see that bakugou didn’t even care for their attention? 

this time it was setsuna tokage who was begging for his eyes on her. y/n assumed it started in their first year when they’d been put against one another when the classes still had a clashing rivalry. (they still did, much more tame now, however.) 

she leaned forwards, tugging on his short sleeve. bakugou’s uniform jacket was slung over one shoulder. he’d lost a lot of his angry demeanor from when he was younger, however it was easy to tell when he was pissed. it was inevitable he wasn’t going to lose his temper entirely. 

it was easy to ignore the girls—most of the time, at least. what was ticking y/n off the most was the fact that bakugou didn’t seem pissed at all. his face was neutral, almost like the perfect mirror of todoroki on a daily basis. his eyes were not fired up in his usual ‘get the hell off of me’ manner. he was relaxed. 

it didn’t seem like he reciprocated tokage’s feelings, however he wasn’t doing anything to get her off him and it was pissing y/n off to no end. 

her sensuous lips were pushed into a slight pucker as she spoke, arching her back in a manner that made it appear much more provocative than she probably intended. 

bakugou stood there, eyes flicking from her grasp on his sleeve and back up to her eyes. he didn’t say anything, didn’t move, only kept looking her up and down. not in a romantic way, of course. right? 

y/n scoffed at themselves. they swallowed the lump in their throat, shoving down the pinging envy in their chest with it. why wasn’t he reacting? 

heat rushed to y/n’s cheeks. why do i care? 

tokage was nearing his face. she didn’t have any intent to press her lips to his, which y/n was more than glad for. 

y/n had come to the conclusion they had feelings for the explosive boy weeks ago. perhaps they always had, but now that they were fully conscious of them... gosh, it was frustrating. 

“you’re staring again.” 

y/n turned to see kirishima, the only other person who knew about their feelings for bakugou. he’d lost the twinkle in his eyes after first year. he’d picked up a dominating sneer and a withering glare reserved for anyone who desired to cross his friends. everyone at UA had after what went down. it was a shock most of them survived anything. 

“so?” y/n snapped, shoving their hands away and kicking a pebble before them. kirishima and y/n continued their walk through the courtyard. 

“so it makes you look creepy.” 

“no, it doesn’t. he didn’t even notice me.” 

kirishima snapped his fingers. “partially my point here. that’s bakugou katsuki, you really think he’s going to notice you?” 

“excuse me?” 

kirishima pursed his lips, twiddling his thumbs. “i didn’t mean it like that, y/n. it’s just...well, he has so much to work for.” 

y/n raised a brow, questioning his nervous antics. 

he continued. “bakugou works hard. probably the hardest worker in UA aside from midoriya. and it’s bakugou. he doesn’t really see a point in relationships. you know that.” 

“it’s not like i’m looking for anything with him, though. gosh, kirishima, you’re acting like this is some school girl crush.” 

he tilted his head, giving y/n a look that screamed, are you really sure it’s not though? 

y/n huffed out a breath, crossing their arms. they’d already vomited up their feelings, why all of a sudden call it a crush? sure, it was a tiny crush that was no larger than the brain of a dinosaur. 

“i can swear that it isn’t, kirishima. you’re looking too deep into things,” y/n defended once again. 

the red-head held his hands up in surrender, sucking his lips in to avoid another snarky comment slipping out. 

the two looked up at the towering building that had been home to them for the past three years: Heights Alliance. 

during their second year, the teachers had settled with having the dorms set up in a way that allowed the students’ rooms to be set up in a gender-neutral fashion. they’d been able to select new dorms beside whomever they wished. rooming next to kirishima was a blast, but the only person bakugou wanted to room next to was him. 

mina had moved in next to you, and kaminari to her right, and sero right across from y/n. 

y/n had no issue being squished between a group notorious for their goofiness and ability to never take anything seriously, however (especially on weekends) they were exceptionally loud to the point they were sure China could hear the blaring music. 

friday was finally going to be over in a few hours. y/n felt a giddiness well up inside them, anticipating the weekend. it’d been a rough few days, for everyone, not just them. 

class 1A had been bombarded with assignments and pop quizzes. y/n was lucky they finished it all in class. some of the homework was finished when they’d sacrificed their precious free time to get it done, but in the end, it was worth it all. 

y/n let their bag sag down their arms as they entered Heights Alliance. 

- 

bakugou had just been asked out on a date. for the third time. first time, he’d denied. second time, he had to shove tokage off him. third time, he’d calmly accepted her offer, and she’d skipped away with more than a smile. 

she’d squeezed his bicep, gave him a wink and an unnecessary peck on the cheek that bakugou had wiped off the moment she turned her back. he was now in his bathroom and, despite her not wearing any lipstick, he was scrubbing his cheek raw so that the skin was a blotchy red. 

the date was tonight, and he found himself wanting to go, and questioning why he accepted in the first place. 

bakugou forgot about tokage the second he won that match his first year and tossed her in the cage. he only noticed her when she and her group of friends giggled and passed by. (it was mostly her chortling, but whatever.) 

he continued rubbing his cheek aggressively with a scratchy towel. he was repulsed by how he had stood there without bothering to snap at her to leave him alone for the third time. 

instead, bakugou’s mind had buffered, and if he was in a video game, he had surely glitched. he should probably just tell tokage he didn’t want to go anymore. in fact, he never wanted to go in the first place and wants to jump out his window and escape. 

it was almost comedic. the thought of him going out on a date? goodness, he wanted to throw up. 

as he continued scrubbing the cloth along his cheek, bakugou found himself more than grateful for how much his quirk made him sweat. if it wasn’t for the nitroglycerin-like substance he produced, his skin would be scratched and dried up. 

a knock sounded at his door. silence came, until the knock found its way to his ears. a set of three knocks, then five, then it was a needy banging. 

whoever was on the other side heard his audible groan and shuffling feet dragging across the floor, because they knocked a lot harder. 

he swung the door open, hinges crying out. 

bakugou’s upper lip curled in disgust. tokage twirled her hair around a finger, eyelashes sticking together with mascara. “katsuki,’ she greeted. 

his eyes narrowed on her. “don’t call me that.” 

“what should I be calling you, then? baby? or honey?” 

oh yes, bakugou wanted to vomit. what even was her name again? whatever, it didn’t matter. “lizard teeth, listen. i-” 

“lizard teeth? why would you address me like that?” 

“because i don’t know your damn name, alright? i don’t-” 

“tokage. need me to spell it out for you?” 

“no. shut up. i need to-” 

“you should remember it, because i was one of the few who got in through recommendations, remember?” 

“and yet here you are in class 1B. can you shut the hell up now?” 

“well, you’re just being shitty.” 

“why are you here, tokage.” more of a demand than a question, as bakugou’s questions always came across if he ever bothered to ask them. 

“because, for our date tonight, I need to pick up some things and I really hope you’re up for coming with me.” 

“no.” 

“please?” 

“no. stop pushing. and I don’t want to-” 

“come on, grouchy.” tokage activated her quirk, one scale slipping into his dorm and pushing him towards her. she gripped the collar of his shirt and grinned. “come with me for a short bit, and I’ll count that as our date, m’kay?” 

bakugou opened his mouth once more to protest, but tokage silenced him by pressing one slender finger to his lips. 

“I’m fully aware you don’t want to go on this date with me.” 

he relaxed, shoulders slumping. if bakugou was younger, if he was even just a little bit more stubborn as he had been before, perhaps he’d be out of this mess already, or never in it in the first place. 

tokage let her hand fall back to her side—both of them. the scale returned to her lower calf; the jet-black leggings she wore now had a perfect hole in them.

“do you think i’m dense, bakugou?” 

“then why ask me out?” bakugou felt himself leaning back. 

“because if i can get under the skin of that stupid little...what do you like to call them? stupid little extras? yeah, that stupid extra who can’t stop fluttering googly-eyes at you every minute, then i’ll be perfectly content.” 

“who the hell are you talking about?” 

“alright, so you are oblivious.” tokage took a step back and crossed her arms. “are you both unaware of how you’ve both been pining for each other’s attention? y/n, that classmate of yours.” 

“...y/n?” 

“do you know their name or do i have to describe in excruciating detail what they look like?” 

“no, no i know who you’re talking about. but you’ve got to be shitting me, alright? there’s nothing there.” 

“i’m from 1B, and if there’s something going on in 1A, monoma is going to tell us.” 

“shithead, get out of my face.” 

“you still have to go out with me.” 

“why the f-” 

“because, bakugou. if you don’t, i’ll be sure to make sure y/n knows about your feelings, whether they’re real or not.” 

“why would they care? more importantly, why would you care?” 

- 

y/n kicked their feet up and down, a lollipop in their left hand, phone in their other. kirishima was in his bathroom while y/n was playing a game on their phone. they’d stashed away a bunch of candy back in their dorm and had snatched a handful for the two of them to share while hanging out in kirishima’s. 

he was currently combing a hand through his hair, and then proceeded to rummage through his cabinets. 

kirishima emerged with his lips puckered. “want to come to the  drug mart with me?” he stuck a thumb to his door. 

“what for?” y/n didn’t take a glance away from their phone. 

“this.” he chuckled softly. when y/n looked up, kirishima had two fingers parting his hair. the roots were a jet black, just growing long enough to become the slightest bit visible. 

“you’re going to fry your hair.” they were already shoving their phone away and tossing their sucker into the trash bin. 

“it’s a monthly tradition to do this, y/n. it would be fried by now if i was bad at it,” he joked, tapping his roots once more. 

y/n laughed alongside him as they exited the room. 

-

it was late, and the lights made everything feel like it was set in a world of backrooms. when the rest of the world is sleeping, it is more than quiet, and nothing feels real―possibly in the best ways. 

kirishima scratched at his chin, staring intensely at the hair-dye boxes lined neatly on the shelf before them. 

y/n tapped their foot, not out of impatience, but because of the creep staring at them through the aisle. yes, through. 

between the boxes of hair dye and scattered makeup products, the beady eyes of setsuna tokage could be seen. she smirked when she tugged her hostage closer. 

bakugou’s height had shot up to around six feet in the past two years, so all that was visible was his chest and the black sweatshirt loosely hanging off it, however his grumbling and stream of colorful language was unmistakable. it was him. 

“you okay?” 

y/n’s head snapped to their friend. “what?” 

“you seem on edge. is something wrong?” 

“nothing. nothing is wrong.” 

“you sure? if you need to talk, i’m here.” 

“yeah, yeah, i’m okay. don’t worry.” 

“alright.” kirishima held up a box, wiggling it in one hand. “got it.” he gave y/n a toothy grin. 

“good.” y/n snatched his arm up and dragged him along. 

“woah,” kirishima released a breathy chuckle, tugging his arm back. “what’s got you in a hurry?” 

“nothing,” y/n said, shrugging. “just wanna get home.” 

gosh, kirishima knew them too well. his eyes squinted just a bit, and there was that playful grin lingering on his lips, just ghosting over his face, barely visible to anyone who didn’t know him. instead of pointing out the obvious, which was standing just a few aisles behind, kirishima decided to play around. “goodness, honey, the kids are going to be fine back home.” 

heat raced to y/n’s face. “what?” 

kirishima winked. “it’s nice that you care about them, but care about me a little, would’ya? i miss you, too,” he said a tad louder. 

this caught bakugou’s attention. his eyes clashed with y/n’s, and he didn’t look away until y/n did. even a few seconds after, y/n still felt the blaring heat of his gaze upon them.

kirishima slung an arm around his friend, enjoying their flustered image. of course, he would never even think about pushing boundaries. the thought never crossed his mind, but he knew they’d let him know if they were uncomfortable. 

when y/n looked back as kirishima led them away, bakugou’s jaw was clenched, and his eyes were alight with jealousy. 

of course, y/n didn’t notice the emotion flaring. 

tokage smirked, clutching his loose sleeve. 

y/n looked back to their friend, and kirishima flashed them another knowing smile. bakugou was getting antsy with his best friends’ hands all over y/n. well, not all over, but a tap on the shoulder was enough. 

despite the way kirishima’s face dropped, y/n swiped his arm away and wandered over to tokage a bit more angrily than intended. they glanced up to bakugou, who was reaching up to retrieve something for tokage. 

“what brings you guys here? didn’t expect to see you.” inside, y/n was screaming. gosh, their heart was angry. 

“just running errands together.” 

bakugou? going for errands? with tokage? 

“cool, cool,” y/n said, nodding. “i was doing the same with kirishima.” they paused, awkward silence filling the space. 

impatient as ever, bakugou tossed the item into tokage’s basket and clicked his tongue. 

y/n didn’t know why. why were they being so stubborn? despite their protesting thoughts and their entire body screaming to hold back, y/n wrapped their fingers around bakugou’s wrist. 

“actually, bakugou, i have something to ask you. i need your opinion on it. you’re smart, right?” y/n’s voice lifted at the end. although they couldn’t see the, what the hell are you doing face kirishima was making behind them as subtly as possible, they could definitely feel the glare burning into their back. 

“tch, of course i’m smart, shithead.” 

“good.” 

“we’re actually kind of in a rush,” tokage spat out, snappier than usual. 

“do you think i fight okay? i need someone  with a perspective like yours to know if i do.” 

“what kind of question is that, dumbass? i don’t care if you can fight well or not, just so long as i can beat the shit outta ya.” 

tokage let out a low growl. 

y/n smirked, hand still around bakugou’s wrist. “i’d like to know if i can beat you, then, so you can tell me if i’m good or not.” 

ohgoshohgoshohgosh where was this coming from? 

bakugou squinted. he leaned in closer, like he didn’t hear them. “speak up.” 

y/n knew he heard them correctly, but he got awfully close. 

feeling a little sneaky themselves, y/n ghosted their fingers over his strong jaw, tilting his head closer so they could speak clearly into his ear. “let’s train together,” y/n said, staring tokage dead in the eyes. 

it was a stupid rivalry, really. they’d both been accepted through recommendations. they’d been friends all throughout middle school, and yet when y/n made it into 1A, tokage felt it a necessity to excel at everything and rub it in their face. no way was y/n letting them get away with this. 

“i want to see how strong i am.” y/n let their voice drop just a bit. “you’re strong, right?” 

“are you taunting me?” bakugou said, voice nearly a whisper. he still hadn’t moved from leaning down and hadn’t bothered to move y/n’s fingertips from his jaw. 

“absolutely not.” y/n sent a small grin in the direction of their rival. “let’s just see who can beat who. we’ve never been against one another like this.” 

tokage huffed, tugging bakugou back. his eyes were softened when they met y/n’s, and there was simmering, small grin on his face. 

tokage, however, looked less intrigued. “he’s not your boyfriend.” 

y/n shrugged, already backing away. they spread their arms in a mockery of surrender. “he’s not yours, either.” 

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Paradise Circus - Chapter Seventeen.

Sorry this is a day late, besties! I was busy all day yesterday, getting things done, visitng my mum too :) Huge thanks for all the interest everyone is still paying in this, I’m so flattered! Reading your lovely comments truly makes me so happy :) 

Previous chapters - One  Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight  Nine  Ten  Eleven  Twelve  Thirteen  Fourteen  Fifteen  Sixteen

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 2,723

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. NO MINORS, PLEASE!

“So, when will you be leaving?”

“About five, I think. Tommy has a training session he needs to attend since he’s going to be off for two days while we’re staying with you. He has a fight in two weeks.”

“Oh, he’s back professionally again, in the ring?”

“Yeah, he’s doing some fights here and there. The money is good and he’s thinking ahead. I mean, he’s on damn good pay at a personal trainer, but this is all for the baby’s college fund.”

“Already? Oh, isn’t that adorable!”

“Yeah, yeah it is. It’s all borne of wanting to be the exact opposite of his father. I’ve told him time and again that he isn’t Paddy, but it doesn’t seem to sink in. He’s going to be such a damned good father.”  

“Oh, honey. You’re absolutely right. I still shiver about that time he turned up drunk, trying to get Tommy in the car to take him home.” It was a memory that had stuck with Nancy ever since, a drunken Paddy Conlon attempting to take his son home, Nancy resolute that there was no way she was allowing his nine-year-old son in the car with him in such a state, taking his keys from him and telling him to walk home. He’d hammered on their door for an hour, until Mike had arrived home and driven him and Tommy back to their house. “It’ll be so lovely to see him again. Can Meadow make it for definite, too?”

“She can, yes! She’s got the day off from work, so she’s coming baby shopping with me in the morning, then we’re all leaving from my place as soon as Tommy arrives. Don’t worry about doing us any food or anything, since it’ll be past ten when we arrive. We’ll eat on the way.”

With that, their call ended, Darla looking forward to spending some time at home, Nancy wanting to see Tommy again since they were to be family of sorts in a few months, extending the invitation to Meadow as well, since she hadn’t seen her in such a very long time either. It was a trip looked forward to by all involved, Darla especially, reuniting her childhood friends with her parents after so many years.  

Living over five hours from her mom especially while going through her first pregnancy was rough, but Darla had a lovely support team of friends in lieu of her mother being local to her, One of whom she was thoroughly enjoying reconnecting with.  

“Darla, this one! Oh my god, tiny lion cub!” Meadow squeaked with delight on the morning of their Pittsburgh trip, she and the mommy-to-be browsing baby items in a downtown department store, the tiny lion onesie catching her eye immediately.  

“Oh, look! With the little paw prints on the hands and feet!” she squeaked back, placing the item over her arm with the others she’d chosen. “So, have kids ever been on the cards for you and Heather?” she then asked out of interest.

“We’ve talked about it loosely, but we’re quite content with it being just us for the time being. It’d be me who has to carry as well, since Heather had endometriosis. I don’t want to put her through more duress in that department, especially when she’s been told her chances of conception are quite low anyway because of the endo partially blocking her fallopian tubes. We’re happy with the rats right now, though.”  

She and Heather had eight beloved fancy rats, all girls, whom Darla had enjoyed letting run all over her a few weekends ago when visiting them with Tommy for dinner. They were exceptionally bright, affectionate little creatures, her favourite a blue dumbo type called Bubba, who adored Tommy. He couldn’t move for half the night, Bubba curled up within his hoodie right under his armpit, fast asleep.  

“Tiny, fuzzy babies. They’re so cute,” she cooed, remembering them.  

“They are! Oh, remind me I need to go and get some rat snacks before we go to lunch,” she then said as they continued to walk, Darla helping herself to a big, wheeled basket from the nearby stack, figuring that with homeware within her eyeline, she’d probably need one for her likely multiple purchases. She had somewhat of an addiction to rattan baskets, throws and candles.  

“You might want to set an alarm on your phone for that, sweetie. My pregnancy brain is in full effect right now. This morning, I threw my spoon in the trash and my empty yogurt pot in the sink. And last night, I ended up putting a chocolate bar I was eating in with my undies. Took me half an hour to find it again because I forgot I was eating it when folding my laundry!”

Meadow snorted laughing, stroking her arm affectionately before rushing to a shelf covered in soft, rolled up blankets. “He needs this! This will be one of many gifts from his Auntie Meadow.” she exclaimed, picking up a white one covered in blue stars, Darla thinking it sweet, how excited she was. She’d burst into tears when she and Tommy had asked her and Heather to be godparents.  

After a semi-wild shopping spree had been completed, rat snacks purchased and a trip to the little vegan, cruelty free makeup boutique done with, they stopped for lunch, both choosing the buffalo style fried cauliflower and a big, green smoothie each.

“It’s good to see you looking so well, you know, now your sickness has passed,” Meadow enthused, Darla widening her eyes in agreement through a piece of dip laden cauliflower. How they got the blue cheese dip to taste so authentically like real cheese, she’d never know, but it was so good she could have happily drunk an entire pot.

“Right? Oh, I felt so rough from weeks nine to thirteen. Apparently, it’s usual to get it much earlier, so I thought maybe I’d had a lucky escape, but nope! But yeah, I’m glad to be past that now, which just leaves me with other unmanageable side effects.”

“Oh?” she inquired, Darla moving in closer.

“I’ve never been so damned horny in my entire life! I broke my wand, broke it! And those things are meant to be indestructible!”  

Meadow snort laughed into her smoothie, blowing a few green flecks across her cheeks that a giggling Darla swiped away with her thumb. “I need the weight of a man on me, and I can’t have it! I considered looking for a booty call now Tommy is all loved up with Cassie and thusly unavailable, but I couldn’t do it. I’d just feel weird, having sex with a guy while I’m pregnant with another man’s child.”

Meadow made an agreeing face. “Yeah, I get that. If I were straight and in the same situation, I think I’d feel exactly the same as you. It’d just feel a little dirty, and not in a good way. I mean, no shame, no shame at all for any woman who does choose that, but you know what I mean. And damn that bestie of mine for rendering his services unavailable. Cassie should share, I swear, she gets him dicking her down enough, selfish bish.”  

Darla burst out laughing, but inside, Meadow’s joke made her feel something sharp turn in her gut, to hear that Tommy was enjoying having a lot of sex with another woman, whom she was still yet to meet.  

“Ahhh, he‘s really happy, though. Good for him.”  

Meadow nodded through her mouthful of crispy batter, wondering on whether to speak her mind or not, deciding to swiftly change the subject instead. It wasn’t that she didn’t think Tommy wasn’t happy with Cassie, he was very much into her, but she knew that deep down, he’d be happier with the mother of his child. She’d questioned him over it discreetly in the kitchen when he’d helped her with the dishes, the night he and Darla had visited for dinner, noting how well they seemed to fit, how great they were getting on, why now they’d worked through their problems aside from a little bickering here and there, that he was still dating someone else.  

He’d explained to her that there was no way he wanted to risk messing up the healthy relationship they’d strived so hard to bring their son into, and that he absolutely wouldn’t entertain doing such. ‘I have to be there for my kid, first and foremost, and trying anything again with Darla might disturb what we have now. I’m not doing it, mouse. My upbringing was unstable enough, I’m not putting my kid through it, no way’ he’d explained to her, Meadow wanting to shake him, but quietly accepting his words and then ranting to Heather about it later after they’d left.  

Her wife had advised not to insert herself into it, that it was their lives and their choices, and if they chose not to be together then everyone had to respect it, although she quietly agreed that she thought Tommy was letting fear get in the way of what he truly wanted.  

Meadow felt her frustrations bubbling up at them both later that night during the long drive to Pittsburgh, witnessing them from the backseat as Tommy drove, he and Darla a picture of cuteness as they discussed baby names. Well, cuteness and a little bite, too. Because it wouldn’t be them unless they butted heads, but it was much gentler now than the storms that previously used to surround them.  

“Nope, that’s too many C’s, Cassius Conlon-Cooke. But well done in being predictable for wanting to name him after your favourite boxer!” Darla teased.

“It isn’t, it’s a fucking great name!”

“So is Anders!”

“Darla, it’s the same name as that terrorist whack job who shot up all those kids in Norway!”

“Oh, shit. Yeah. Okay, Anders is off the list.”

“It was never a choice to begin with.”

“I still like Jackson, too.”

“Nope, you’re not naming my boy after the guy from Sons of Anarchy who you want a piece of!”

“I do not! It was always Chibs I liked more. That Scottish accent was so hot.”

“Hoe.”

“Pots and kettle, Tommy. Pots and kettles.”  

“I like Opie, though. I wouldn’t be mad at that.”

Darla took a moment, thinking it over. Opie Conlon-Cooke. It had a nice ring to it.  

“Yeah, yeah, I really like that!”  

“But then, I like Silas too.”

“No to Silas, Tommy, for the last damned time!”

“Oh, this is gonna be a long drive!” Meadow piped up from the back, making them laugh.  

“Put your earbuds in and go to sleep then, mouse!” Tommy advised her, switching lanes to overtake a slow-moving truck. “We have plenty of time to decide on a name, but I do really like Opie, so that’s probably at the top of my list for now. I guess we probably should actually leave it until he’s born, though, then make our decision when we’ve met him. I can’t fucking wait. I’m so excited.” He then voiced to Darla.

“I share that, too. Hell, I’m not looking forward to giving birth, though. I’m terrified, truth be known,” she confessed, Tommy reaching for her hand and giving it a soft squeeze.  

“Well, I’ll be there with you for as long as it takes. You’re tough, you’ll be just fine and if you aren’t, you can call me all types of man bastard for getting you in that state in the first place, I won’t mind! Curse my dick to the depths of hell and back, too, as you inevitably will.”

There was only one thing she wanted to do with that beautiful, perfect dick at that moment, and it had nothing to do with curses. They pulled over about an hour away so Tommy could refuel, both himself and the car, Darla needing the bathroom and Meadow remaining in the back, reading a book on her phone. They finally arrived at their destination at 10:34pm, Mike opening up the door and receiving and incoming Meadow into his arms at high speed.  

“Papa Mike!” she squeaked, muffled from within his chest as he hugged her tightly.  

“Well, I’d like to say you’ve grown, mouse, but I can’t. Still tiny!” he chuckled, moving back into the house. “I have something, hold on.” Moving into the lounge, he then grabbed at item that rustled, appearing again and making her gasp.

“You still have the beanbag?” she cried, Nancy making her way down the stairs.  

“One more time, for old times sakes?” Immediately she jumped into the soft ball of fabric, it still swallowing her hole, Mike towing her across the hallway towards the kitchen as she laughed hysterically, Tommy and Darla appearing in the doorway to watch the scene unfold just as Nancy arrived with them.  

“Oh my god, I can’t believe it! Darla showed me a picture of you now but it didn’t do you justice!” she cried, welcoming Tommy with a huge hug. “It’s so lovely to see you again, oh, you look so well, and you’re the size of a small car!” she continued, making him laugh.  

“I dunno about that, but It's great to see you too, Nancy.” She’d been like a second mother to him during his formative years, the familiarity of her warm hug soothing, bringing back a flood of memories from his childhood. It might have been a different house they were in, but he felt as welcomed as ever within the Cooke homestead, Mike coming back out with Meadow in tow to greet him with just the same warmth.  

“I want to thank you, you’re a good man to stick by Darla throughout this, even though you’re not in a relationship. I always thought the world of you, son, and that hasn’t changed. A lesser guy wouldn’t have been so forthcoming to his responsibilities, but you’re different. Annie would be so proud, and my condolences there. I thought the world of your mother,” he told him as they entered the kitchen, Nancy and the girls remaining in the hallway while she and Meadow reconnected.  

“Thanks, Mike. I appreciate that, about mom. And thanks again, for being understanding about me and Darla. I was nervous you might think less of me because of it, being careless, but Darla told me I had nothing to worry about. It was good for you to confirm that personally and not want to beat my ass as soon as I came through the door,” he confessed, Mike gesturing to the beers in the fridge. “Yes, please.”

“Son, I wouldn’t even try. I might be tall, but my god, the physique on you! How much time are you putting in at the gym to look like that?”  

“Two and a half, sometimes three hours a day,” he revealed, taking his beer with thanks and twisting the cap off.

“Holy hell! That’s commitment right there, damn,” he complimented, just as the women arrived.  

“He’s lying, Mike! It’s all implants!” Meadow teased, Mike going back to the fridge and pulling out something that made her heart feel warm. “Awww, you remembered?” she exclaimed at being presented with a can of grape soda. With her mother being a clean-living hippie who wouldn’t allow such drinks in the house, Mike would always sneak her a can when she was at theirs, telling her it was their secret soda time.  

“I did.”

“It’s good to be home.” She hugged him again, taking her drink and pulling it open, glad of the refreshment as she sat down.

“Oh, don’t sit yet, Meadow. Let me show you to your rooms before we all get comfy,” Nancy halted her with, beckoning with her hands as she walked back to the kitchen doorway. “Our fourth bedroom is Mike’s man cave, so two you will have to share.”  

“Yay, bed to myself!”

“Yeah, I’ll bunk with Darla. Meadow is a sleep kicker,” Tommy confirmed at his friend's joyous exclamation.  

It was truly the last thing the mother of his child wanted to hear at that moment, that she had to share a bed with the man she was as cock hungry for as she was him, but went along with it.  

It was only for two nights, after all. What could be the harm?  

[shadowsinger11]

Young Remus Lupin for the Nsfw headcanon please!🥰

Another one which I'm excited to wrote about!

Young Remus Lupin NSFW Headcanons

Remus has been living in the shadow of his werewolf form all his life; he doesn't consider himself attractive, much less a potential romantic partner. He doesn't feel loveable.

This is a reason as to why whenever he happens to have a crush (which doesn't even happen that often), he forces himself to suppress his romantic and sexual desires instead of asking out the object of his love. He simply doesn't feel good enough to date anyone and never made the first step.

However, when you came into his life, things changed.

Remus hadn't had developed a true connection with any of his past crushes, considering he was never really friends with them in the first place.

But with you it all just came so natural. The study sessions at the library, the late night talks at the Astronomy tower, the walks in the school yard during free period - it really came so natural that Remus could only wonder where you had been all his life.

But, as time went on, Remus found himself becoming exceptionally attracted to you in more aspects than he'd think.

His heart would run a mile every time you'd smile at him and his cock would twitch in his pants whenever you'd subconsciously lick your lips.

Remus hated himself for having feelings for you, he didn't want them to get in the way of your friendship and potentially ruin it.

But boy, would he go insane whenever he'd sense your arousal from a few feet away. Remus did feel guilty for being able to do that, but he was more guilty for actually enjoying knowing how needy you were. Because he was needy for you too.

Although he wouldn't admit it, Remus spent a lot of time jerking off to the thought of you in his dorm whenever his roommates were at Quidditch practice. He couldn't help it, you were just so desirable and extremely fuckable.

Speaking of which, whenever you were ovulating, he'd just know. He'd know this and he'd itch to simply strip you of your clothing right then and there and get inside you. Remus wasn't sure if this was the wolf within him speaking or not, but he certainly did have a breeding kink.

Fortunately for you both, this was never a problem when you got together, because wizard protection would usually be taken in the form of a potion right before the act. Meaning Remus was free to fill you up entirely without any consequences.

Things would get exceptionally heated near full moon and so would his kinks.

Remus would be very afraid of accidentally hurting you during that time but he never did; he's simply that good of a person no matter what.

But Full Moon Remus™️ was the one you could count on to have your guts rearranged.

He'd be so into taking you from behind, pounding into you and filling you up until you came over and over again, and became an exhausted panting mess.

This Remus could go for many rounds and would take you in many different positions within one night.

Face down on the mattress? Check. Fucking you into the mattress? Check? 69 on the mattress? Check.

You guys need a new mattress.

Remus was easily the most polite guy ever but if he lets his wolf take over? You better free your following week of arrangements because you're having sore thighs and core for sure.

One of his most common fantasies during masturbating would be eating you out, no doubt.

Once his wolfish appetite awakens, you're basically stuck with your legs wrapped around his head for hours, whimpering his name in ecstasy as his tongue forces an orgasm after an orgasm out of you. By the time he's finished with you, you're a sweaty, panting mess of dishevelled hair and juices flowing down your thighs. Remus takes pleasure in gently licking them off of you afterwards.

Needless to say that Remus can be pretty rough, but this doesn't change the fact that he's a literal sweetheart. He would never intentionally hurt you and he'd only go rough if you specifically wish him to.

If he did happen to accidentally hurt you, he'd be extremely apologetic, fussing around to make sure you get everything you need. And that's where his precious chocolate comes to play. Remus always has some left to give you after sex, both because it's delicious and you need energy, and because he wants to make it up to you for being rough.

Fuck, I need a Remus right now🥵

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Masterlist

[siriuslyobsessedwith]

Pregnant!Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy

Hermione finds out that she is pregnant exactly 19 months after she started dating Draco. To the day: December 23rd.

On that fateful day 19 months before, all the longing looks and flirtatious banter had come to a head, and the night after one of their heated rendezvous, Draco strode obnoxiously into her office, slammed the door and asked a question.

“Granger, are you playing me for a fool?”

He had tossed himself elegantly onto a small leather duvet in the corner of her office, and his brow was quirked imperiously as his silver eyes bore into her.

She was busy, of course. She was on a fast track to become minister, and as head of the DMLE’s legal division, she was responsible for preparing legal defense and prosecution for aurors. And she was in the middle of a highly contentious case at the moment involving an at-large Death Eater and stolen dragon’s eggs.

Knowing full well it would annoy him, she responded without even looking up for the document she was editing: “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Malfoy. Care to elaborate?” She struggled to hide the grin that wanted to grace her lips.

Of course he played along. “Well, Granger, I’m speaking with regards to the meeting we had last night. I personally believed I performed admirably, as did you, and I feel we...work quite well together, no? Exceptionally well. And...”

His hand scratched the back of his neck. Hermione knew the tic well enough, and suddenly her interest was piqued. What did he have to be nervous about? They were quite...comfortable around each other, to say the least.

“I’m just going to say it: I-I’d like to take you on a real date, Granger. You know, you dress up and I tell you you’re gorgeous and woo you over Italian wine. I’m sure Weasley used other less sophisticated methods but—“

“I’m free tonight,” she interrupted, eyes sparkling with happiness. She kept her lips pursed to hide her childish excitement. Finally!, “Pick me up at eight?”

His lips open slightly in astonishment (shock?), he simply nodded and skirted out of her office. That was a wonderful night, leading into the wonderful weeks and months to come.

But now, 19 months later, Hermione is sitting in her office absolutely terrified. She’s cast the pregnancy charm over and over and over, and each time it’s come back positive. She needs to schedule an appointment with a Healer, find out how many weeks pregnant she is, she needs to start thinking about maternity leave, she needs to worry about the extra expense of a child.

And, of course, she needs to figure out how to tell Draco. But she doesn’t want to think about that. She cant think about that right now. The what-ifs racing through her mind are just too much for her to handle at the moment.

Now, because she’s Hermione Granger, she’s able to get into a Healer the same day. She swears the man to confidentiality, because the only thing worse than telling Draco is him finding out from someone else. She finds out she is 6 weeks pregnant (which explains the last 4 weeks of feeling like she had a terrible flu—how had she been so blind?), and then the Healer tells her, gently, cautiously, “It’s twins, Ms. Granger.”

Her heart stops; her mind swirls. Twins. Twins?! What is she supposed to do with twins? The thought of one baby is immobilizing, but two? And what if Draco doesn’t want them? What is he’s angry and he abandons her? Some part of her knows that this man who she’s spent that past-almost-year with would never do these things, but she’s terrified.

She knows she has another two weeks before she starts showing too obviously, so she walks silently out of the Healer’s office and starts formulating a plan. She can’t make it obvious to Draco that something’s off. But she needs to tell someone, and though she loves her friends, she knows not a single one of them can keep their mouths shut.

Her hand drifts to her lower stomach, and for a second she loses herself in the reality that she has two whole HUMAN BEINGS growing inside of her. She feels hope and fear and confusion rising in her throat, stinging her eyes, and she has to rush back to her office before she bursts into tears on the ground. 

Unfortunately, unbeknownst to the crying witch, Draco Malfoy is slumped elegantly on that same leather couch in the corner. 

Draco nearly has a heart attack. Not because she burst in so abruptly, but because she’s never cried like this before. At least not in front of him. He starts imagining what could have happened, what someone could have done to her, what he is going to have to do to said person—

She raises her head from her arms, revealing swollen eyes and tear-splotched cheeks, sees him, and promptly starts sobbing again.

“Merlin, Draco,” she pushes out between bursts of laughing-tears, “What are you doing here? Why didn’t you say something? You’ve really caught me at the worst possible moment, and—“

“What happened, Granger?,” he asks, voice low and gentle, “Tell me what happened.”

“Oh, it was nothing,” she lies, eyes darting anywhere but his face. She rubs the tears off her face with the back of her hand and releases a breathy laugh. “Just a rough day, a bad argument, nothing major. I’m just being dramatic. Its--its nothing.”

His eyes darken. She swallows. It’s obvious he knows she’s lying. But what is she going to do? She thought she had two weeks to plan, to decide, to run away and start a new life in Nova Scotia (ok, she only considered it for a moment).

“Alright, sit back down,” she says, voice small and a little raw from all the crying, “I-um-I have something I have to tell you. And, I-uh-I just want-uh-you to stay calm while I explain, and then you can say whatever you like, alright? Ok, here we go. Um, so, you know how I’ve been feeling bad the past couple of weeks?” She pauses, swallowing again, asking herself if she is really going to do this right now, in this way.

He nods, silently. He stares at her with such intensity she thinks she might fracture into a million pieces.

“Well, turns out I’m not sick,” she mumbles, losing confidence, “I’m-um, well, I’m pregnant. There it is. I’m pregnant.”

She expects his heart to stop. She expects to watch him freeze, his eyes widen, his leg stop bouncing. He does none of these things. He just curses and starts grinning. 

“Well, Granger, you certainly know how to upstage a man. I came in here to ask you to marry me, you know? Exactly 19 months to the day since our first date. I had a whole romantic speech planned, I’ve got the ring right here, in fact, and our whole band of sorry friends are just down the hall waiting for my signal to come congratulate us on our upcoming nuptials. But I should have know, the Hermione Granger would certainly find a way to overshadow my grand proposal.”

His voice grows in volume and love and excitement and joy as he continues and grins at her knowing he scared her and knowing he just dropped a bomb, and she starts blubbering again, laughing at the two of them, at his botched proposal and her equally-botched pregnancy reveal.

“Yes,” she squeaks, getting up from her chair and locking eyes with him. “I mean, my answer is yes, of course. But, what do you think about, I mean...,” she looks down and her hands and eyes rest on her stomach.

And just like 19 months ago, he asks, “Do you take me for a fool, Granger? The Malfoys are an ancient pureblood family obsessed with lineage. I saw them--yes, I know its twins--appear on my family tree two whole months ago. And I’m not a bloody idiot, I noticed you throwing up in the mornings and not eating very much. You’re quite dense about some things, you know. I’ve been in agony waiting for you to realize.”

And she’s giggling uncontrollably now, almost hysterical, and she rushes over, throwing her arms around him and sobbing into his shoulder. His hands slip down to the small of her waist, tugging her to him, and he whispers in her ear, “We’re having twins, Hermione. Twins.”

And she whispers back, “Twins and marriage, Draco. We never do anything slowly, do we?” Happy tears glisten in her eyes as the heartbroken and frightened tears of earlier dry on her cheeks. 

And they pull apart and look at each other and know that, against all odds, they’ve found and built something so special. He pulls out the ring and she gasps and says yes over and over and over and he touches her stomach and she smiles and they walk out of the office together to find Harry, Ginny, Ron, Blaise, and Pansy looking at them incredulously.

“Well?,” Pansy demands, pursing her lips, “I expected this to take fifteen minutes max, but the two of you have been in there for at least double that? Botch the proposal, Draco?” 

Draco smirks playfully at her. “No, Pans, it actually went perfectly,” he lies smoothly as he squeezes Hermione’s small hand. “And it’s extra good that I proposed today, because otherwise our twins would have been the first bastard Malfoy descendants, and that would have been a tad embarrassing.” 

Draco thrives on the shock of his friends, and he feels pride building up inside of him, coursing through his veins as he imagines a future with his powerful, amazing wife and their undoubtedly-perfect children. He never imagined that after all the darkness and sacrifice and pain of his childhood that he could make such dreams a reality. 

And Hermione? She just fakes a gasp at Draco’s brash statement, pretending that she didn’t script his exact words just so she would get to see the shocked looks on her friend’s faces. 

Because honestly, taking things slow, being cautious, hesitating? That has never been their style. 

[sisterofsomeone]

Personal Training

- Katsuki Bakugou x fem!reader SFW

- Warnings: mention of harm, bandaging wounds, choking

- Summary: as a third year, you and your childhood friend Shinso have been moved from the general studies course onto the hero course. No one seems too keen on you two, until you meet Bakugou late one night in the training city and he seems to take a personal interest in you

———————

Wandering around the testing sites at midnight wasn’t something you should be doing, but ever since you got moved from general studies into the hero course it was the only way you could calm yourself down after a day of training. It was dark, the cold air still around your skin and the only light shining was from the full moon above you. You’ve always dreamt of being a hero, but knowing you couldn’t control your quirk, knowing you had the ability to seriously hurt someone if you lost control, you applied for general studies and vowed to learn to control your power before you tried to move into the hero course. Your thoughts drifted to Shinso, you two had been friends for years going all the way back to nursery, just two toddlers constantly holding hands and only ever with each other. Your chest swelled with pride thinking about how both of you had beaten the odds and been moved from general studies to the hero course after all your efforts. You were in your third year, you’d missed a whole two years of the intense hero course training but it meant you two finally got the attention you deserved. You were finally seen as hero material. Sure you felt bad for the people who got moved out, but you didn’t know them and they were obviously not making the most of the opportunity, so you were glad to take their spot. You had to be a hero at any cost.

It was quiet around you, the only noise you could hear was your own footsteps, your breathing the only sign of life. Your breath was coming out softly but because of the cold it was visible, the curls and twists of your breath softly disappearing into the moonlight. You’d been wandering around the town for a few hours now, watching the silent, dead city around you, the buildings towering over you and the roads stretched out and empty. It reminded you of home, disappearing after long days being bullied at school and skulking through the dying streets.

“You shouldn’t be here.” You hadn’t noticed the boy sneaking up on you. You could understand why he currently held your throat in his hands, you did look exceptionally different in and out of class. You didn’t bother fighting his grip, you knew this boy and he would certainly overpower you in hand to hand combat.

“You with that hand guy? He sent you in here to spy on me huh?” His grip tightened but you never once broke eye contact. His red eyes blown out with anger, his lips curled into a snarl and his breath warm on your face.

“I-I’m in your c-class dumb arse.” You managed to get out between shallow breaths. “The o-one with Shinso all the time. The new girl.” He seemed to believe you, releasing his grip on you ever so slightly but still eyeing you with intrigue.

“She has floaty purple hair, and that weird dark aura quirk thing...” You weren’t necessarily in the position to roll your eyes at him, but surely he should have noticed that your whole ‘dark aura quirk thing’ changed your physical appearance too? You’d fought him enough. You decided to indulge him, letting your power grow until you changed in his hands, the light from the moon almost being drawn into you as the darkness swirled and danced around you. Your body surged with the release of this power, your skin feeling hot, as if it was about to burn right off of your bones. You had never been able to control yourself before UA, and this place had shown you how to harness this power and use it to your advantage.

“Okay creep -“ he released you suddenly when your darkness started creeping up his arm and pulling him in. “- I believe you.” He was wiping his hand on his trousers now, obviously feeling the same burning you always did. You pulled your darkness back in, your hair falling flat against you, your eyes returning to their natural colour and your skin settling down. Dusting yourself off, you stood to face Bakugou. He towered over you, the boy growing to be over six foot during your time at UA.

“It’s almost as if you should believe me, seeing as I also live on the same floor as you.” Raising an eyebrow you tried to register his reaction but he didn’t seem to be paying you any more mind.

“Oi, I’m talking-“

“Shut up, I’m not interested anymore.” Sticking his hands in his pockets he turned on his heel and walked away from you. But you weren’t gonna let him get away that easily.

“Oi fucker! You don’t get to talk to me like that!” You walked after him, grabbing his arm.

“Get off.” He snapped back, his eyes dark and angry.

“Not until you apologise for trying to choke me out.”

“Not gonna happen sweetheart. Don’t wander around on your own acting all sketchy and I wouldn’t have had to.” This was ridiculous, all you wanted was an apology.

“But what about you huh?” He stopped walking and turned to face you.

“You’re skulking around here too, does that mean I get to choke you?” You smirked up at him feeling proud of yourself when his eyebrows furrowed.

“You can try, but I’ll kill you if you do extra.” This fucking guy.

“Are you serious right now? Like, does this act usually work on your classmates? Because I’m not scared of an immature man child who can’t even apologise when he’s done something wrong.” In a blur he’d managed to pin you up against the wall that you swore was 15 foot away from you two only seconds ago, his body pressed into yours and his hand around your throat again. You felt his thigh in between your legs, and you couldn’t help the shudder that moved through your body when he spoke.

“You should be scared of me, I’m gonna be number one, I’m the best.” He was staring directly into your eyes, not breaking the gaze he was bearing down on you.

“You think you’re gonna be number one? I beg to differ.” His cockyness seemed infectious. “I’ll beat you Bakugou, just you wait.”

———————

It had been a few weeks since your little scuffle and you had been trying to keep your word.

“Y/n, are you seriously gonna try and fight Bakugou right now?” You’d filled Shinso in on what had happened between the two of you and even though you knew he believed in your abilities, he really didn’t think you were ready to fight him.

“I need practise, and I can never go all out with you because I care about you, you’re my friend! It doesn’t work!” You laughed and Shinso rolled his eyes. He always asked you to go all in when you two sparred but you couldn’t bring yourself to hurt him, even if you knew he wouldn’t hate you, you would hate yourself.

“Look, he’s finally done with Kirishima so now’s my chance. I’ll be okay I promise.”

You totally weren’t okay. Bakugou had kicked your arse, and all he had to do was get close enough that you could feel the heat from his skin and place a hand on your waist during an attack and your hormone-riddled brain freaked out. Not that he’d noticed you’d frozen mid fight, so he just kept firing off attacks as you scrambled to think up a defensive strategy. But it was no use, one well aimed hit and you were down.

You were with Recovery Girl in the nurses office when Shinso popped his head in.

“Told you so.” He said bluntly, drawing a tut from Recovery Girl.

“If you’re gonna be negative she doesn’t need you in here. She need positivity for healing thank you.” He apologised and moved further into the room.

“So, how are you feeling?”

“Tired I guess, and a little sore, but nothing bad. How did the rest of the lesson go?”

“Well, Bakugou and Todoroki got into another fight, Deku tried to break it up but that didn’t really work so they’ve all got dorm cleaning duties for the next week.” That got a chuckle out of you.

“Bakugou? Cleaning? Unlikely.”

“Oh yeah, Aizawa said he’d stop by randomly to make sure they were cleaning.” By now Recovery Girl had ushered you off of the bed and had begun handing you your clothes back.

“You’re all bandaged up, now get dressed and get out of here! And take some candy! You! Make sure she gets back to her room safely will you?” Shinso nodded as you slipped your jacket and shoes back on, wrapping his arm around your waist as a support. You were thankful for him, even if he was a miserable bastard most of the time.

———————

Shinso had managed to get you back in one piece, placing you on your bed softly. No one else had come to help, but you two had expected as much. Since being transferred in you had been singled out as the outsiders of the group, no one had even tried as much as to have dinner with you guys or watch the tv with you two. You were always alone together, you were each other’s rock.

“Hey Purple hair.” The voice behind him was rough and angry, you recognised it in an instant.

“Bakugou. What do you want?” Shinso tried to take no mind, keeping all of his focus on tucking you into bed.

“I need to speak to y/l/n. Alone.”

“I don’t trust you alone with her after today.”

“Let me speak to her.” Shinso turned to face him, his eyes burning holes into Bakugou’s head.

“After the stunt you pulled? No-“

“Toshi, I want to hear what he has to say.” You tugged on his shirt feebly, and his guard dropped. He always softened up around you.

“Fine. But I’ll be outside.” You mumbled a thank you as he barged past Bakugou, hitting him with his shoulder as he passed. Shutting the door behind himself, Bakugou entered your room looking oddly sheepish.

“Hey.” You started softly, not wanting to jump straight into a fight with the guy.

“Hey. About today? I mean, I’m not gonna say sorry because you asked to fight but I just wanna say that I should have noticed you freeze and let up a bit. I didn’t notice and Kirishima had to point it out to me later on, so yeah. Don’t come in unprepared next time.” Well. It was a start.

“Oh, I mean I don’t know what came over me. I didn’t mean to freeze up on you trust me!” You tried to laugh it off, but the atmosphere in the room was way too weird.

“Was it because I touched you?” You blushed at this and dropped your gaze to the floor. Where you really that easy to read? “Because if it was then Kirishima owes me $20.” Oh.

“No. I don’t know why I froze but it wasn’t because you touched me.” He smirked at this, moving to sit on the end of your bed. You instinctively pulled your legs closer to yourself but he took this as an invite to spread out more. You took in his toned shoulders, his strong arms and long fingers. Your mind drifted, wandering how good they’d feel slipping under your shirt and -

“You’re not even listening are you?” He pulled you from your dirty thoughts and you shook your head.

“Wow. I said that it’s a shame, because I’d love to explore what else I can make you do with my hands.” He had to be joking right? You blinked at him, your mouth agape with pure confusion. 

“See? You’re all frozen again. I must have an effect on you.” He started moving closer to you, shifting on your bed until his lips were a mere inch away from yours. His eyes were boring into yours, but the pupils were flickering slightly from your eyes to your mouth. He raised a thumb to your lips, rubbing the calloused skin across your bottom lip. You swallowed, suddenly aware how fast your heart was beating and how clammy your hands had gotten. 

“Bok-” He placed a finger on your lips as if you quiet you. 

“Call me Katsuki, y/n. I have a feeling we’ll be training much more closely from here on out.” With that, he pulled away and stood from your bed. He left your room, glaring at Shinso who was waiting patiently outside. The purple haired boy ran into your room as quickly as he could, inspecting your face when he saw you red, hot and flushed. 

“I’m not even gonna ask what happened here.” He scrunched up his nose in disgust.

“Oh, n-nothing happened. He just offered to train with me more.”