#<- long tag but idk what else to use i need a tag for my au thoughts fjjhhdh

[toffeebeantable]

YOU THOUGHT PRIDE MONTH WAS OVER? WELL IT AIN’T OVER TIL I SAY SO

[pastelalleycat]

i have an au idea, hear me out

bonus frame my big sis insisted i draw but i didn't think would fit with pacing XD

[agayconcept]

.

[ranger-kellyn]

team star's boss battle music is actually so fucking good???? hello??????

[poems-of-a-lover]

i will never understand the "stop casting straight actors as gay characters" argument. people just wanna out gay actors so they can have a better grasp on who to hate.

[possum-tooth]

got my friend a cool mug/plant pot/ceramic Thing for xmas. realised today she has a shitton of mugs and really nowhere else to put a new one. do i take this one back and find her smth else?????

[chungle]

i think it'd be so goofy if i started using tumblr again

[elipheleh]

i think i miss out on a lot of fandom discourse - its a lot to keep up with and i'm not particularly interested by it, or in discussion about a celebrity's actions (or lack) - but i see an amount of it secondhand. and a lot of the time when i do see it, it solidifies my belief - some of which is, i'm discovering, controversial (e.g. celebrities don't owe us anything) and some of it is pretty normal (or at least it used to be). theres a level of entitlement within fan spaces - not from everyone, but from a very loud group - which drives a lot of more casual folk away from the spaces.

i don't know if it's just how people engage with celebrities now - there's a lot more access to them than when i was growing up - or if i'm a particular outlier, but besides engaging with their work (i.e. film & tv (& stage/music)) i don't really find myself interested in stuff they post/share online. i don't have any real emotions about what they post - knowing for many it's contractual obligations - aside from some enjoyment when behind-the-scenes things are posted. subsequently it makes very little sense to me when folk get mad about what a celebrity is/isn't posting.

and honestly, a lot of this ties to things regarding real-world events as well. there's this catch-22 of if they aren't posting something online they're a terrible person, but if they don't post about it enough or they post something lots of others are posting, they're just following the bandwagon. i don't believe celebrities owe that to anyone. there's so much conversation around being loud about your actions as the only acceptable activism method, when it's also possible to do good quietly. if someone's social media account is only used for work purposes - which is a number of them, including one of the relevant ones in this context - posting anything outside of work content is unlikely to happen.

i will say one discourse topic that i've seen & think is absolutely ridiculous is that because nick didn't post about rwrb2, he is... i don't even know, he doesn't care about it? he was on video when they announced it looking super happy with the response & it's clear from every interview how much affection he has for henry. if you look at the stuff he is posting, odds are most of it is contractual - and i highly doubt posting about rwrb2 was contracted - and often it's announcing new roles. i would expect him to post about rwrb2 when it starts being promo'd/filming, etc. he uses his accounts for work (& i would be surprised if he runs them, given what he's said in interviews) and any specific contractual obligations. it isn't a personal account. if you're contrasting his social media with tzp's then of course there's going to be less about rwrb on nick's account, he's been in 5 more things since then! (or at least is cast in them, honestly i've lost track). tzp's only been in rwrb lately.

i don't ever want to be famous, but you can be sure that if i were to be i would not be using social media. there is so much entitlement and boundary crossing that i would not even have control over my accounts. it is just ridiculous and draining. i barely use it as a non-famous person & it's basically always private accounts.

[bokunoheros]

TAGS/WARNINGS: gn reader but afab with descriptions of feminine clothing (also katsuki calls you princess like once or twice idk), alcohol consumption, everyone is 24+, shouto is bisexual asf, katsuki and reader are married, reader did not go pro, some mlm action (todobaku content scattered throughout bc i am a god and can make them do whatever i want!!), shouto cucks a little bit, also shouto is a nasty closet perv lol, overstimulation, inappropriate quirk usage, oral (reader receiving), spit roasting, backshots, idk what else i could possibly mention other than this is nothing but filth GENRE: SMUTTTT MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI 18+ ONLY SUMMARY: after a party celebrating their top spot as heroes, shoto gets a little too drunk and has to stay the night with you and your husband, dynamight. shenanigans ensue. a new boyfriend is acquired? WORD COUNT: one million billion (jk it’s 10.4K) 🦊’s A/N: god help me. shoutout XENOVA for the celebration party idea. uhm pt2 maybe if this blows up idk. also this was not proofread bc i’m running out of time and it’s too long. and uhm its not exactly manga-canon bc i think deku deserves to be the no.1 hero idgaf. horikoshi when i catch you. // anyway enjoy lol

     it was mina’s idea to hold the party originally, and you who offered to host, since you were the one dating the number two pro hero, dynamight, and had enough space to accompany the old class 1-A. it took a little persuasion from your end to get katsuki on board, but he eventually agreed, despite his bitching about how you two needed to whip this place into shape before anyone dared to set foot into your shared home. 

     this, of course, meant more work for you in the end since your husband was so terribly busy with work. ….that’s not to say he wasn’t helpful, though; of course not! whenever he wasn’t bone tired from whatever villain attack or whatever there was that day, he was more than happy to help you pick up (well…… that’s how the phrase goes, at least; bakugou himself didn’t mind cleaning with you and helping out around the house, per se, it’s just that he always came off as aggressive in the everything that he did) and really start getting the house ready for the upcoming party this weekend. 

     when it was all said and done, everything had been dusted and all the floors swept and vacuumed; the pillows on the living room couch had been fluffed and the kitchen counters were wiped down and had been bleached in preparation for the day you were about to spend in the kitchen cooking for this party. at least katsuki was there to help you with this the most out of all the other chores — and it was really the most time consuming one, too, so his help here was greater than he realized. him being an actually good cook just so happened to be an extra, heaven-sent bonus. 

     despite this, you had actually gone out of your way to prepare three main courses: (cold) soba, katsudon, and then something on the spicier side for your husband for the top three heroes you were celebrating tonight, along with some appetizers and snacks, of course.

     finally, the day of the party was upon you, and you finished running your last couple of errands (namely stocking up on alcohol) right as ashido and the rest of the girls arrived in a limo. …..guess yaomomo went all out, huh? well, it's not like you could exactly blame her—it had been years since you had All been together due to everyone being busy with their own work, even now there were a few who couldn't make it, like satou and koji, or mezou and fumikage, due to circumstances out of their control. it was a shame really, you would have loved to have some of rikido’s sweets since he was such a good baker. ah, must not have been meant to be then. no use in dwelling on it. especially when everyone was beginning to pull up!

     “eeee, my pookie! how have you been!? how’s life with baku—no, dynamight?!” mina eagerly squeals as she runs towards you, arms extended and ready to grip you in a crushing hug. 

     “ackgh–! too tight, too tight–!” you choke out as she squeezes you half to death. 

     “oh, sorry!” she apologizes, letting go and backing up slightly as the rest of the old 1-A girls come up behind her and the limo driver drives back to yaoyorozu’s manor until it was time to come pick the ladies back up. “now. spill all the tea,” she says, giving you a serious look all of a sudden, and you feel a smile stretch across your face. it’s nice to know she’s just the same as she was in high school.

     “well—why don’t you come in and see for yourself?” you gesture to your shared home, to which the girls gawked at in awe. it wasn’t an estate or anything like yaomomo’s place of residence, but it was certainly large enough to accompany everyone attending and then some.

     leading them inside, you open the already unlocked door (katsuki was busy in the kitchen aggressively finishing up the fruit platters and charcuterie boards, making sure they were up to his standards before serving them) and led them all in.

     “kats, ‘m home! n’ all the girls are here!” you shout loud enough from him to hear you from the foyer. 

     your husband swears and grumbles under his breath, eyes darting to look at the clock just as it struck 17:00 (that’s 5pm for those of you who don’t use the 24hr format). goddammit, they were perfectly on time. whatever, he was done arranging the meats and cheeses of the charcuteries anyway. 

     moving to set the trays on the coffee table in the living room for everyone to enjoy, he greets you at the door with the softest little smile ever, one mina just barely catches sight off, which she immediately teases him for and his usual scowl makes a re-appearance in record time as he becomes prickly and sharp again, huffing out a gruff make yourselves at home or whatever. 

     after that, it was another twenty-ish minutes before nearly everyone else arrived. 

     shouto, however, was the last to get there due to him getting into an argument with his father prior to leaving. it was a surprise to even himself that he decided to come anyway, but he had grown to be more sociable than he was back in high school, and also he was one of the three people the party was actually being thrown for, so…. it would just be incomplete without him there, and he recognized that. 

     soon, the party kicked into full swing and the alcohol was excitedly opened and everyone could feel themselves relaxing as it grew closer to dinnertime—which you happily (and tipsily) served to everyone around half past seven. 

     once everyone had eaten and had time to let their food settle, people began saying their goodbyes as the night grew later and later. all except shouto, that was, who was actively still drinking, sitting on your couch with a bottle of sake in his left hand as he watches everyone else clears out. 

     “fuck’s he doin’? just sittin’ there,” bakugou grumbles, coming up to stand next to you after seeing eijirou and denki to the door (uptight as he could be, even your husband was capable of relaxing after a drink or two…. or several). he wasn’t… erm, upset with shouto’s prolonged visit, per se, but he was definitely tired and wanted some alone time with his spouse for fuck’s sake. 

     “be nice, ‘tsuki,” you scold him lightly, moving to walk towards shouto, who had a sleepy look in his eyes, to stand in front of him. “hey, todo, y’okay?” you ask, waving a hand in front of his tired face.

     “mmh? ‘m fine.” his words slur together slightly as he refocuses his blurry gaze on you, and for a moment, the number 3 pro hero thinks you look like an angel sent from heaven to take care of him—until katsuki ruins the moment by walking over and saying;

     “great, then you can obviously get yourself home!”

     “katsuki!” you hiss, looking over to where he stood next to you. “you can stay the night if you need to, shouto,” you tell him softly, squatting down in front of him and placing a hand on each knee to look up at him from almost between his legs — something your husband absolutely did not appreciate. 

     “hey—” he tries to interject, but the young todoroki had already accepted your kind offer, knowing better than to walk or drive home in his current state. 

     “relax, kats, he can sleep on the couch if you don’t want him in a guest bedroom—even though that’s what they’re for,” you suggest/remind him. 

     “i guess,” he huffs, crossing his arms as you finally stand back up.

     shouto, meanwhile, moves to stand up from where he sat, swaying a bit before you put both hands on his broad shoulders and force him to sit back down.

     “nuh-uh, you sit right there, sir,” you say playfully. “is there something you need?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as katsuki grits his teeth while you tend to that drunk icyhot cunt. (as if he himself wasn’t also wasted).

     shouto pauses to think for a moment, thinking about his words carefully before opening his mouth. 

     “do you have any—” he lags and forgets the word he’s looking for mid-sentence. “uhm. ….unfrozen ice?” he asks, tilting his head partially to the side like a confused creature might. 

     “oh my god,” bakugou groans at his request as you break out into a fit of giggles. “you fucking mean water?” he asks his fellow pro-hero. god. what a sorry fuckin’ sight he was — can’t-stand-up-drunk on katsuki’s couch, while he forgot a word as basic as water. jesus christ, he cannot believe you offered to let this fool stay here without even asking him if it was okay first. whatever. he’d just have to fuck you so good that that walking peppermint couldn’t sleep at all. yeah, he could totally do that.

     “water, yes,” shouto follows up as you have to wipe the tears from your eyes at his drunken words. standing up straight, having doubled over from laughter, you nod and tell him yeah, we have unfrozen ice, and that you’ll get him some.

     after you had left the room, though, katsuki huffs loudly and stares down at shouto, who was still seated on the plush sofa. 

     “listen, todoroki,” he spits out, one hand splaying out in an aggressive manner as his quirk popped off quietly. despite the alcohol in his system, katsuki was still just as…. well, just as aggressive and competitive as always despite the way he had grown more outwardly affectionate (towards you specifically) over the course of the evening.

     “i dunno, or care, what you’re trying but just know—” an embarrassing hic cuts him off and his face flushes from more than just the alcohol. suddenly, his big tough guy act drops as his blush reaches the tips of his ears and you come back into the room with two cups of water, handing one off to shouto and the other to your husband.

     both men silently and gratefully take the glasses from you, gulping it down before they even realized just how thirsty they were until the cups were empty and they were looking at you, causing you to suddenly feel small under their intense gazes.

     “‘ll go—get s’more,” you slur, taking the now empty glasses back from the two men, and also this moment alone to calm your racing heart, and maybe pour yourself another shot. or two. or three. calm down, you’re only alone with the two finest men in the world — one of which you’re married to!! you think to yourself as you begin pouring them another glass from the nice water pitcher you had specifically set out for tonight. 

     taking the bottle of vodka from its spot on the counter, you look at how much is left and simply decide on drinking straight from the bottle and polishing it off. little did you know, you’d need that liquid courage for later on tonight. before bringing the two well-built men their water, you dispose of the vodka bottle, putting it in the recycling and heading back into the living room.

     after a comment from katsuki about how it was getting late, you escort shouto upstairs to a guest bedroom and show him where the bathroom is before excusing yourself to your shared bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind you, just for katsuki to barge in seconds later as you move to the master bathroom to start brushing your teeth.

     he joins you shortly after, having discarded his nicer dress shirt and pants in the bedroom’s laundry basket, leaving him far more comfortable in his unfairly flattering black boxer briefs.

     “jesus—kats, how are you so fuckin’ fine?” you ask after spitting out a mouthful of toothpaste, and he only chuckles and lets a small smile stretch across his lips.

     “dunno—could ask you the same thing, though,” he quips back, grabbing his own toothbrush from the little cup it sat in, running it under the water before putting the toothpaste on it and bringing it up to his already white teeth and scrubbing the night’s grime away.

     you giggle at his words, running your toothbrush under the water and giving your teeth a final once over with the brush and scrape your tongue, rinsing it one final time, and then tapping it against the sink’s edge to get some of the excess water out. 

     finally, you made your way to the bed, sitting on the edge of it as you watch your husband finish up in the bathroom before he stalks over to you, an almost predatory look in his eye as he comes to tower over you and you can feel a chill run down your spine as he sizes you up from your spot on the king sized bed. 

     “katsuki..? what’re you—”

     your question is almost immediately cut off as his slightly chapped lips come crashing down against yours as he knocks you back onto the bed and stands between your now spread legs—which quickly wrap around his narrow waist as his large and calloused hands find purchase on your hips. 

     “mmmfgh,” your hum turns into a moan as you focus on the feeling of your husband’s lips against yours, melting into him as he leans over you, teeth clacking slightly as he tilts his head for a better angle to kiss you at.

     “was getting tired of that icyhot bastard,” he grumbles, eyebrows furrowing together as the grip on your hips tighten possessively at the mention of shouto, as if your husband wasn’t the one to bring him up? 

     his words make you chuckle nonetheless as a smile spreads over your pretty, soon to be kiss-swollen, lips as you lean back on your palms, the bed sinking beneath your weight.

     “‘m sorry, tsuki,” you mumble softly before you feel his tongue run over your lower lip, silently begging for entrance to your hot mouth — to which you eagerly granted access to, moaning quietly when he licks into your mouth. he tastes like tequila and spicy udon, and it’s utterly intoxicating (or maybe that was the last of the vodka you’d downed earlier taking effect). “didn’ mean t’invite him withou’ askin’ you,” you slur out, rolling your hips up against his growing erection.

     “‘s okay, i guess,” he pants, pulling away only slightly in order to look you in the eyes, letting you know that he really didn’t mind. sure, shouto was quiet and didn’t actually interfere with what he had planned tonight (or so he thought), so he was only mildly annoyed instead of genuinely bothered. besides….. he had left the door partially open after barging into the bedroom on purpose… just in case that walking candy cane happened to overhear and wanted a peak at the show he wouldn’t be allowed to join.

     and just like that, your husband’s lips come crashing down against yours yet again, tongue easily seeking out your own and swirling around yours before sucking it into his mouth, humming pleasantly around the wet muscle (he was in a shockingly good mood, actually…. guess he enjoyed the party more than he let on—that and the alcohol was a large factor, too) before pulling off of it with a nasty, wet pop! noise. 

     “mmh, glad you’re not mad,” you mutter, eyes fluttering open to take a peek at him. and what you saw was downright angelic — a harsh contrast from his usual demeanor and appearance.

     “why would i be?” he asks, and you straight up laugh, ruining the moment entirely. “hey–!”

     “sorry, ‘m sorry—it’s just—” you wipe a tear from your eye. “you’re usually not so— what’s the word? calm? something like that,” you try explaining to him, a smile gracing your features.

     “i’m calm! i’m always calm!” he spits out, raising his voice, sending you into another round of laughter. 

     “god—i love ya s’much, kats,” you tell him after composing yourself, shifting on the bed so you were leaning against the plush pillows lining the headboard and bakugou eagerly follows after you, moving between your legs, which easily wrapped back around his hips, pulling him closer against you, and he shifted so that he was propping himself up on a forearm, his other hand coming to press against the small of your back, arching it for you as his lips found their way to your neck, where he began to nip at the sensitive skin there.

      “you’re pretty great too, i s'pose,” he grins against your flesh before beginning to suck at the junction of your neck and shoulder, determined to leave a mark dark enough to last a week, at least. 

     “yeah? ‘s good t’hear,” you giggle breathily as he assaults your neck, and one hand comes to cradle the back of his head, fingers threading through his mysteriously spiky hair (you’ve never once seen him use hair gel—hell, you’ve even searched his entire side of the bathroom because you didn’t believe him when he told you it’s just like that).

     it doesn’t take long for bakugou to get fed up with the clothes separating your bare skin from his, desperate to physically feel you against him, and in record time, he has the skirt of your dress bunched up around your hips, you’re sitting up slightly, and he’s tugging the fabric the rest of the way off, carelessly throwing it onto the floor.

     shouto, meanwhile, lay awake staring at the ceiling in your comfortable guest’s bed, drunkenly reminiscing back to high school, and the crush he didn’t know was a crush he had on you. had he known, he probably would have asked you out sometime in your senior year—instead, he misinterpreted his affections as an intimate friendship with admiration for you and your quirk. what always baffled him, though, is why you would pick katsuki bakugou to love out of all people (not like you really had a choice in the matter…… one day you woke up and realized your supposed hatred for him was, in fact, a bone-deep love that consumed you whole).

     with an achy sigh, todoroki sits up and gets up to use the bathroom. after washing his hands and splashing his face with some cool water to sober up at least a little, his ears perk up on the way back to his temporary room. on his way back, however, he happened to catch the faintest echo of a feminine moan, and before he can stop himself, he’s silently stalking down the hall to the master bedroom, where he found the door to be cracked open wide enough for him to get a surprising view of dynamight with his head between your legs and your underwear and dress strewn across the otherwise neat floor.

     immediately, his dick twitches to life in his nice dress pants and he nearly groans at the way you moan katsuki’s name so sweetly. god…. that should be me, he thinks to himself enviously as your husband focuses solely on eating you out.

     “aa-ahh! mmm, katsuki!” you cry out, both hands coming down in attempt to push his face away from your messy cunt, but to no avail. katsuki offered you no respite as his hot tongue explored your puffy folds as he began to suck on your clit. “katsu—fuck!”

     you’re ignorant to the feeling of another pair of eyes on you, too caught up in the feeling of being eaten out, but katsuki isn’t — he feels shouto’s burning gaze, and he can’t help but smirk to himself. so he was right: icyhot couldn’t resist a good show, and boy, was katsuki about to perform.

     “hmm?” he hums, one hand resting on your thigh while he uses the forearm of his other arm to keep you from bucking your hips up. he doesn’t exactly care about what it is you’re whining about; he knows you’re fine and he intends to make you cum at least thrice tonight to show off to shouto, who was apparently a giant closeted pervert.

     and it was true. shouto was nasty without even realizing it — and that’s not to say he slept around, god no (he was 24 and still a virgin….), he just had fantasies. many of which involved you, and shamefully, on occasion, you and katsuki. it made his cheeks burn to even think about, but he would be a liar if he said he’d never gotten off to the idea of a threesome with you and your husband. jesus, and now, here the opportunity was laid right there in front of him, and what was he doing? slowly starting to palm at his erection and bite his bottom lip as he watches the scene in front of him unfold.

     “i— shit–!” you squeeze your eyes shut and arch your back as you tug at his hair. “god, just—! slow down!” you whine, and katsuki’s eye twitches. 

     like in every other aspect in his life, bakugou tended to be rough and aggressive in the bedroom; put simply, you turned him into a feral man—brought out the inner animal in him. he was, as surprising as it may seem to some, a generous lover, however, due to his have to be the best at everything mentality, so, by extension, this included his ability to give and inflict pleasure (mixed with a healthy amount of pain, because, well.. it’s katsuki). 

     “nah.” blatantly ignoring your request, he pulls his head away from your drooling pussy, the lower half of his face covered in your slick, and blows a cold puff of air against your throbbing slit, causing you to whine out his name as he nips at the fatty skin of your inner thigh—dangerously close to your cunt—sucking and biting until a dark purple mark begins to form. a smirk stretches over his somewhat thin, although plump, lips knowing shouto would never get to litter your body in bruises and hickeys the same way he does. 

     “mmh—jesus, kats–!” it’s all you can do to whimper as he resumes the disgustingly messy way he was tongue fucking your pussy.

     shouto almost groans as he gets harder and harder, almost painfully so, as he watches katsuki fervently eat you out, and suddenly, he wishes it was him between your legs with bakugou watching instead. 

     as silently as he possibly can, todoroki begins to unbuckle his belt in order to slip a hand past the waistband of both his pants to feel himself through the fabric of his sickeningly tight boxers. he’s careful to bite back what would be any whimpers or quiet moans, knowing it’s so shotover for him if he gets caught.

     “fuck,” he mutters under his breath, swallowing thickly as he watches as you’re eaten out until you’re cumming with a loud cry of your husband’s name (shouto pretended it was his name you were calling out), and he goes to turn around to hide in the bedroom you’d so kindly allowed him to stay in to jerk off until he hears—

     “y’gonna come out, icyhot, or are ya just gonna stand there like a loser cuck all night?” katsuki lifts his head from between your legs to look at the half-and-half bastard peeping on him and his spouse…… what a fucking freak.

     “sh–shouto!?” you squeak, not having noticed his presence until the man you’d married had pointed him out. “wh–what’re you—!” you can’t even think of what to say before he’s trying to apologize and katsuki’s cussing him out—telling him to get his ass in here before he really makes him sorry. 

     just how drunk was your husband? or shouto for that matter? truthfully, you were probably the most sober person in the room.

     slowly, silently, and shamefully, shouto makes his way into your bedroom, where he comes to stand at the foot of the bed with a horribly noticeable tent in his pants. he wants to look down at the floor, but he’s physically incapable of taking his eyes off your naked, sweaty form—and katsuki’s toned back, for that matter. he gulps anxiously as he waits for the perpetually angry blond to inevitably break the ice. 

     much to his surprise, however, it was you to speak up first, admitting that you didn’t mind shouto’s presence—followed by katsuki sarcastically asking if you wanted him to join, to which your body stiffened and cheeks flushed at the thought. 

     “what? don’t tell me you like the idea of that half n’ half idiot joinin’ the fun?” a wicked grin stretches over his slick lips as he quirks a brow up at you before shrugging and saying; “fine, just remember: you asked for this.”

     “you heard ‘em, todoroki, get the hell over here,” he spits out, and shouto complies immediately—he could not believe what was about to happen and neither could (nor katsuki for that matter).

     as he closes the gap between you three, he fumbles with the buttons of his dress shirt before ultimately just ripping it open and shrugging it onto the floor. repeating the same action with his pants, he struggles slightly with the zipper before tugging it down and quickly stepping out of them, nearly tripping in the process—to which katsuki has to stifle a laugh.

     shouto feels dizzy and light-headed from how hard he is, and he bites his thick bottom lip as he nervously crawls onto the oversized bed, sitting adjacent to you as he awaits further instructions from the ever-demanding bakugou. 

     “katsu—”

     “shut up,” he says gruffly, one large hand coming up to cover your mouth—he was about to dictate everything that was about to go down. “you—todoroki—listen real fuckin’ closely, because i’m not repeating myself. you can look, but ‘m still deciding if you’re allowed to touch yet—” katsuki directs his attention from him to you and asks; “whaddya think, princess? would y’like that? both of us touchin’ you?” and it’s all you can do to nod, cheeks physically heating up in shame and embarrassment. 

     “i guess i’ll allow it, then,” he says, moving his hand away from your face so he can manhandle you into a sitting up position, making you straddle his lap and telling shouto to move behind you.

     you feel your heartbeat quicken significantly now that you’re naked and sandwiched between two of the hottest men you’ve ever been blessed with the chance to encounter. dear god. take a breath, you’ve got this. …..and that’s why your pussy’s all but drooling right now? you can’t help but roll your bare cunt over your husband’s erection, letting out a delicious little moan in the process, and shouto’s equally large hands hesitantly find purchase on your hips, and you look back over your shoulder as he leans in attempt to kiss you—just to be blocked by katsuki’s hand against his pouty lips.

     “i didn’t fuckin’ say you could kiss them,” he hisses. shouto, however, mentally shrugs this off, grabs the angry blond’s wrist to move his hand, and leans in over your shoulder, pressing his chest firmly against your back, in order to—kiss your husband instead????!

     holy shit—this is so much hotter than it should be, jesus christ. you’re genuinely ashamed of the way shouto moving to kiss katsuki rather than you turns you on, and you even let a little oh my god slip in awe and horny amazement. 

     “what the actual fuck, icyhot!?” your husband explodes, trying to shove shouto away from him, but causing you to fall back fully into his lap, where you can feel his boner pressing up against your ass.

     “n–no,” you speak up. “d–do it again.” you try your best not to mutter the request, looking between the man who had crushed on you all through high school and the one you’d ended up marrying. 

     “huh!? have you both lost your fucking minds?!” 

     “please..? do it for me, ‘tsuki?” you beg as sweetly as you can, a pout tugging at your lips as you did your best kicked puppy eyes. as tough as bakugou acted, deep down, he did, in fact, have a soft spot for you, and would do nearly anything for you—and this, unfortunately, was about to be one of the things he was willing to do. maybe he had the whiskey to thank for his… bravery, but for some reason, the idea of making out with that peppermint bastard really didn’t seem so bad. ….jesus, what is he thinking?

     “tch, fine,” he clicks his tongue before he’s suddenly snatching you out of shouto’s lap and bringing you back onto his, where he shifts so his back’s against the headboard and says; “‘f y’can ride me, then sure, ‘ll do whatever you want, sweetheart.”

     nodding eagerly, you tug the waistband of his boxers down just enough to free his aching cock, where it hits his lower tummy and you impatiently use one hand to line up the angry red tip with your slick entrance before sinking down to the base with ease. you both moan at the feeling and katsuki beckons shouto over after pressing a quick kiss to your shiny lips to remind himself why he was doing this.

     shouto’s dick aches enviously, desperately wishing he could feel your heat, but quickly gets over it as his chest presses against your back once again and his lips land against katsuki’s. actually, todoroki was not an experienced kisser—at all, really; he was only copying what he had seen in movies, so he’s a little surprised when the blond’s tongue runs over the seam of his lips and his heterochromatic eyes fly open at the feeling. 

     katsuki, however, reaches around you to grab shouto’s cheeks, forcing him to part his pretty lips, and he easily slips his tongue past his kiss-swollen lips. meanwhile, shouto’s strong arms wrap around your waist while he allows your husband to explore the inside of his mouth, his face heating up despite the way a chill runs down his spine. 

     “mmh,” he hums quietly, freezing his tongue in order to give your husband a little surprise—which works very well, seeing as how katsuki pulls away with a heaving gasp.

     “what the fuck?” he pants, rolling his hips up into dripping cunt, and you let out a little moan, grinding down against him at the same time, allowing him to brush up against your g-spot while shouto moves to kiss katsuki again, large hands coming up to cup his flushed, tanned cheeks, trying to tilt his head for a better angle as he mimics the way the blond’s tongue had run over the seam of his lips, and is pleasantly surprised when he reluctantly parts his slightly thinner lips for the much calmer man. 

     jesus christ, you think to yourself, trying to bounce against your husband’s dick to the best of you ability, but groaning in frustration when his absurdly calloused hands come down against your hips to hold you in place.

     “mm—’tsuki,” you whine as he wholly focuses on kissing shouto (who was currently living out his wet dream). it’s all you can do to wiggle in place, trying to grind your clit against his neatly trimmed pubic hair, desperate for any kind of friction. meanwhile, shouto’s freezing hand comes up to grope your chest, causing you to let out a quiet yelp at the feeling of him tweaking roughly with your nipple.

     poor, poor inexperienced shouto had no gauge or concept of what exactly he was doing, relying on instinct and everything he’d seen in the little porn he had watched; he silently prays he’s acting accordingly and soon his heated left hand is coming up to grab at your other tit.

     “sh–shouto!” you moan, almost causing katsuki to pause in his action as a growl leaves his throat—now this just simply would not do, no, no, no. !!!! fuck! his dick twitches inside you as he ruts his hips upwards while holding firmly onto your hips. “je–jesus! katsuki!” 

     that’s better, he thinks to himself, a smug, self-satisfied smirk tugging at the corners of his plump lips as he tries not to overthink his kiss with todoroki. god. as fucking  embarrassing, humiliating, and shameful as it was, …..katsuki absolutley could not deny the fact that he was feeling so, so, so many things right now, things he never would have considered sober, let alone acted on, and now….. now, he was rock fucking hard as he feels the inside of shouto’s mouth, tracing his tongue along the grooves of his blindingly white teeth and inner cheeks before swirling it around his own heated muscle. 

     he wants to tell shouto he’s not half bad at this when he begins to suck on his tongue—taking him violently by surprise—but can’t bring himself to dole out the praise, not wanting him to get an ego about how well he was managing to keep up. 

     you can feel your stomach doing flips and your pussy creaming around your husband’s cock as the two men you’re sandwiched between really go at it, and suddenly your mouth feels dry as you let out a low, drawn out whine.

     “fuck,” is all you’re able to say as you dig your nails into katsuki’s back while arching your own, with shouto still pinching and tweaking with your poor, erect nipples—his hands were almost at extreme temperatures, and you choke out something about how good it feels, offering the number three hero the praise he needed—something bakugou wasn’t a huge fan of. 

     half n’ half wants to use his quirk? that’s fine—he can, too!

     the next thing you know, your hips feel scorchingly hot and you’re hearing the sound of a very small-scale explosion, and you yelp out your husband’s name, pussy fluttering around his achy length, and you have to bite your lower lip when you feel tears welling up in your eyes from all the stimulation. had you known inviting a drunk shouto to stay the night would lead to this, you would have done it years ago! …because honestly, you were crushing hard on him your freshman year of highschool together—but unfortunately for you, that’s when he had first begun to actually explore his emotions for the first time in his life, leading you to believe you never stood a chance with him.

     katsuki, however, while his primary emotion was anger, you could tell something was up with him and his feelings towards you when he stopped yelling at you as much compared to the others. don’t get one wrong, he definitely still shouted at you, because that’s just who he was, but….. it was enough for you and the girls of 1-A to pick up on—something they teased you relentlessly about behind closed doors because nobody ever dared to mention anything in front of bakugou in fear of ruining your chances together (as you see, mina and a few others were die hard shippers while the rest enabled this behavior). 

      “christ’s sake, katsuki,” you hiss as his quirk repeatedly pops off against your reddening skin and you have to physically bite your tongue to keep yourself grounded enough to scold him. …try to, anyway. “thi— this isn’t a—ahh! fuck!—a compe–titon! jesus!” you moan.

     a competition. 

     that word ring in katsuki’s ears as he pulls away from his kiss with shouto, admittedly a little breathlessly, a smirk stretching over his glossy lips.

     “now that’s an idea,” he muses out loud, causing shouto to tilt his head and your eyes to widen. goddammit, you just had to go and open your bigass mouth, didn’t you?

     “n–no; whatever you— you’re planning, forget about it,” you say as firmly as you can despite the way your pussy flutters around him.

     bakugou clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes at the way you whine out such a ridiculous request. 

     “mmh, nah,” he grins, hands holding you firmly in place against him, preventing you from even rolling your hips—something you’re quick to bitch about. 

     “god–dammit!” sometimes you wish your husband wasn’t so goddamn strong—it made it that much easier for him to manhandle you into any position he wanted. 

     “y’up for a little challenge, icyhot?” katsuki ignores you entirely, focusing his intense gaze onto the slightly younger man.

     “...sure,” he nods, albeit a little reluctantly, unsure of what exactly he was agreeing to. he hopes he’ll get a chance to steal a kiss from you, but for now, he figures it best to go along with whatever bakugou was about to suggest. 

     “whoever can make princess here cum the most in five minutes each can fuck their cunt,” he begins, just for shouto to interrupt him. 

     “and what of the loser?”

    “i was getting there—impatient sonuva bitch….” he mutters the last part under his breath like he wasn’t also an impatient sonuva bitch. “anyway, the loser—in this case, i’m sure it’ll be you, y’fuckin’ virgin cuck—can…. fuck right off and watch,” he finishes, cock twitching deep inside you at his own words. he was absolutely positive he’d win the little proposition he’d struck up, which is why the punishment for the loser was so harsh. when in all reality, if he was feeling kind enough, he’d let you suck shouto off as a consolation prize. ….maybe.

     “sounds good to me,” todoroki agrees to bakugou’s conditions, feeling his own dick twitch as he steels his nerves—he was so fucked. in this moment, shouto’s never been more grateful for being a fast learner, as that was his only chance at possibly succeeding in such a task. he wasn’t particularly familiar with the afab body, and so he has to actively recall all the porn he had seen—mind you, he was incredibly picky about what exactly he’s watching—when suddenly an idea strikes him and he’s asking katsuki to move his hands so he can pull you off his cock and reposition you so your back was against the bed.

     you and your husband are both confused until shouto’s pushing your thighs apart and nestling between them, icy lips kissing down your body until he reaches the mound of your dripping cunt, and you can’t help but get shy—not because you weren’t used to being eaten out, no (katsuki often ate you out until you couldn’t see straight), it was because you just simply were not expecting that from the inexperienced shouto todoroki! but it’s okay, just take a deep breath and—

     “aa–aah! fuck! shouto!” you cry out, caught off guard by the way his full lips wrap around your erect clit and begin suckling on it, his freezing tongue moving to swirl around it as he does. he doesn’t exactly know what he’s doing and is more or less figuring it out as he goes based on your reactions and moans. 

     katsuki is just as taken aback as you were, but for totally different reasons; this was probably one of the last things he had expected todoroki to do, but, but, but…!!! fuck! he couldn’t even be mad about it either because he was the one who had decided to turn it into a competition. shit. okay, whatever, he’d just work around this.

     “nngh–!” one of your hands comes to run through shouto’s split hair, tugging the soft locks gently. “wh–where the fuck did you—aah! hhngh!—learn h–how to do this?” you ask breathlessly, looking down at the man between your legs, and you feel a chill run down your spine and goosebumps erupt over your skin when you realize he’s looking right back at you—staring at you intently, doing his best to gauge all your little reactions, both verbal and physical.

     katsuki can’t help but agree with your question, because seriously, where the fuck had he learned this shit!? 

     all he’s able to do, though, is watch with awe as shouto focuses wholly on his attempt to eat you out — which he was seemingly doing a good job at — as one large and calloused hand subconsciously comes down to jerk himself off slowly, thumb swiping over his bright red, leaky tip, and he hisses out a quiet fuck while your back arches off the bed.

     shouto, however, doesn’t answer, in favor of bringing a heated finger down to your slick entrance — gently prodding at it before slipping it in with ease. 

     “mmmffgh,” you whine as he curls it up slowly, all while sucking on your throbbing clit, and it doesn’t take long for a knot to build up in your lower stomach. “nngh– sh–shouto!” 

     he simply ignores you as he begins to slip a second finger in—gradually heating them up as he did—and you moan pathetically as your husband watches on in awe, his mouth horribly dry and dick achingly hard, and for a moment, he’s scared he might cum to the sight of another man eating his spouse out—so he intentionally slows his pace to something almost painfully slow to make sure he doesn’t prematurely ejaculate, wanti—no, Needing to cum inside you. 

     starting to scissor you apart now, you clench around shouto’s burning fingers desperately, whining as his freezing right hand comes up to pinch one of your already stiff nipples. 

     “nngh–!” it’s not long before you’re cumming with a loud cry of shouto’s name while pulling at his soft hair, back arching deeply off the mattress as katsuki lets out a growl at the sight, already seething with envy….. whatever; he takes in a deep breath to calm himself down and slowly starts to increase the pace at which he’s jerking himself off, groaning softly as he does. 

     todoroki doesn’t relent in his pace, however, messily eating you out throughout the duration of your orgasm, resulting in you cumming a second time not long after.

     “nnngh—’s too much, shouto—” you choke out, pulling at his hair while trying to push him away at the same time. “f–fuck!” it had maybe been two minutes, meaning you had to endure for another three. but how exactly were you meant to do that? with the way he was all but making out with your cunt, you turn your attention to katsuki, pathetically mewling for help—just for him to shut you down! reminding you that you agreed to this and that he knows you can take it.

     the most your husband had ever made you cum in one night was four times—a record he was gunning to beat tonight. 

     by the time shouto’s time was up, he had managed to make you cum three times, on his way to working you up to a fourth, before katsuki’s letting go of his dick and burying his thick fingers in todoroki’s hair, yanking him away from your pulsing heat. 

     “hey—” shouto pants breathlessly, lower face covered in your slick.

     “time’s up, icyhot,” your husband rasps out before asking you how many times you’d cum.

     “th– three, but— i need a break before we keep goin’,” you tell him, panting heavily with flushed cheeks and teary eyes. 

     katsuki simply nods in acknowledgement, untangling his fingers from shouto’s hair as all three of you take this moment to catch your breath. then, after a brief three or so minutes of rest, bakugou’s crawling on top of you as shouto watches on this time, cock leaky and painfully hard as he palms himself through his horribly tight boxers while katsuki kisses you.

     “love ya, kats,” you’re able to pant out, and shouto feels his heart break a little; he wishes he could be on the receiving end of those words some day... but for now, he shifts so he’s kneeling on the bed, legs tucked neatly under him with his thighs spread wide enough for his heated left hand to sneak past the waistband of his boxers in order to grope himself.

     bakugou smiles against your lips at your words rather than returning them, and his tongue slides out to poke its way into your already open mouth, easily licking over the insides of your cheeks and grooves of your teeth. 

     as he watches the two of you makeout, todoroki begins to reflect on his kiss with katsuki earlier, and he finds himself yearning to hear those three little words from him, too, or to be able to kiss you as well….. maybe when this is all said and done… maybe he can work up the courage to ask to join your relationship..? or maybe he’d leave early in the morning full of shame…. he isn’t quite sure yet.

     “mmngh—” you moan softly as one of katsuki’s large and calloused hands trails down your side, moving to cup your puffy cunt, before two thick fingers easily insert themselves into you without much of a warning—fortunately, you were still soaked from your slick and shouto’s spit from where he’d eaten you out so good, so your husband didn’t meet any resistance when scissoring you apart. “k–katsu–!”

     “yeah?” he pants as his cock drools uncomfortably. it’s okay. he’d just have to make you cum four times in five minutes, and—the idea that shouto might beat him at a challenge he proposed due to your fatigue from allowing that icyhot cunt to go first suddenly flashes in his mind, and he’s hardened over with a certain resolve he’d allowed to slip in his overwhelmingly horny state of mind.

     “i— ah! hnnngh— ‘m still se–sensitive,” you whine out, arching your back off the bed at the stimulation, and it’s all you can do to pull at his hair when you feel the calloused pad of his thumb press against your swollen, oversensitive clit. as the fingers almost knuckle-deep inside you press into your g-spot, you go crosseyed from the combined feeling of being finger-fucked and having your tongue sucked on (when’d he start doing that!?).

     katsuki, however, ignores your weak mewls in favor of kissing you so hard your teeth clack together briefly before he’s tilting his head for a better angle and nipping softly at your tongue, causing you to squeak in surprise. 

     rolling your hips up and grinding down against his hand, desperate for more fiction, shouto watches on in awe and horny amazement, taking notes on how your body reacted to katsuki, hoping he could imitate his actions, or develop them into his own, next time he got the chance. 

     soon, though, katsuki’s five minutes come to an end, with you only having cum twice by his doing—something that makes his eye twitch as he realizes that meant icyhot would get to fuck your cunt. ….goddammit! he’d gotten too caught up in the feeling of your lips against his to focus fully on fingering you! sure, he was just about to bring you to your third orgasm–but! oh, this so wasn’t fair! if only he’d gone first! then you wouldn’t have been so worn out!

     shit. with a sigh, he pulls away from your body as his eye begins twitching and he looks over to shouto—who currently had his hand wrapped around his cock—and lets out a huff.

     “there’s no way i’m letting him fuck you,” he grunts out, crossing his muscular arms.

     “kats, that’s not— ‘s’not fair,” you chide him, panting heavily and sitting up on your forearms. “you said— said the winner—” your cheeks flush as you remember the words he’d used and you shake your head to clear the thought from your mind. “...could fuck me—you wouldn’t wanna go back on your word, would you?” 

     shouto’s heart rate increases as you stick up for him, and he feels the extra blood circulating throughout his body go straight to his throbbing dick as his eyes light up with hope—never in a million years would he think he’d get the chance to have sex with you!

     “mm, …fine,” katsuki agrees, salty he’d lost at his own competition, but willing to do whatever to make you happy, so… he almost retches a little at the thought and he feels his heart break in his chest ever so slightly, but… if staying true to his word and letting that half n’ half bastard fuck you would make you happy, then…. he guesses he can let it slide…

     with that, shouto’s shifting onto his knees a little more in order to slide his boxers down his well-toned thighs so his pretty cock can slap against his lower tummy and he’s quick to grab you by the hips, pulling you towards him before katsuki’s words cause him to pause.

     “not so fast, icyhot, if you’re gonna fuck ‘em, then they can at least suck me off while you do,” he growls, moving so that he’s behind you and then manhandling out of shouto’s grasp so that you were facing him. “get on all fours, sweetheart,” he instructs you, and you obey with a nod, presenting shouto with your ass and drooling cunt and he swallows thickly at the sight. 

     his hands plant themselves on your hips once more and a small smile tugs at the corners of your lips—you were glad shouto would at least get a chance to enjoy himself, as you’re sure he probably doesn’t have many good stress relievers, if any at all… 

     with that in mind, you make sure to arch your back nicely for the man on his knees behind you as you take your husband’s dick in one hand while supporting your weight with the other and press a little kiss to the bright red tip before slowly taking it into your hot mouth.

     katsuki hisses out a groan at the feeling of you hollowing your cheeks as you gradually take him down to almost the base, your hand wrapped around what doesn’t currently fit in your mouth, and swallow thickly around him.

     “shit—” a hand is quick to bury itself in your hair to guide your pace as shouto’s jaw slackens in the slightest before he gets a grip and starts to align his swollen and leaky tip with your creamy pussy, moaning much louder than he was expecting to at the feeling of your warm, gummy walls wrapped around his virgin cock. suddenly, whatever metaphorical grip he did have immediately slips away from him as his physical grip tightens to an almost painful extent, and you’re sure he’ll leave bruises in the shapes of his fingertips—similar to the way your husband so often does.

     “aa–aah! fuck!” todoroki whines as he takes his time bottoming out—biting his tongue as he pushes into you almost agonizingly slow, causing you to moan around your husband’s dick, resulting in him pushing your head down further against him and your pussy to flutter around the poor, overwhelmed shouto.

     you nearly gag as his mushroom-headed tip hits the back of your throat, but are able to suppress your reflex to do so well enough to remove your hand from around him while you focus on breathing through your nose as you take him down to the base, until your face is flush against his pelvis, light blond pubes tickling your nostrils slightly. 

     you try to stay that way for as long as possible, swallowing around him continuously to fight your own gag reflex rather than out of consideration of his pleasure, but it’s only been a few seconds when you’re fighting against his strong palm to come up for air.

     after pulling off him with a disgustingly wet pop! and panting heavily, you make the suggestion that the two should kiss again — arguing that if your husband is just gonna offer your pussy to be fucked without asking you, then the least he could do was makeout with the man balls deep inside you.

     “what?” katsuki barks out, looking down at you, with your head between his thighs. 

     “please, ‘tsuki?” you ask nicely, giving him your best puppy dog eyes.

     shouto wants to join in with your pleading—to ask katsuki for a kiss, too, but he knows better, knows your husband will begrudgingly cave to your demands and that he’ll ultimately receive another kiss.

     “tsk… fine—c’mere, icyhot,” he grunts, one hand pushing your head back down onto his dick as the other reaches for shouto. both men lean over you in order to lock lips, and the younger one can’t help the smile that tugs at the corners of his lips as he gets what he wants. 

     todoroki’s hips press flush against your ass as he leans over your sweaty, overstimulated body to makeout with your husband. god, you weren’t, like, …a fujoshi or anything, but…. something about the idea of katsuki and shouto going at it in particular had your stomach in knots and cunt clamping down snugly around shouto’s girth. 

     “jesus—” the half and half man pants at the feeling of your pussy, and he honestly doesn’t know how he’s managed to go this long without it. ….or if he’ll be able to live without yours specifically from here on out…… okay, it’s decided. he’d ask to join your relationship, somehow, when this was all said and done, but for now he isn’t sure whether to focus on his kiss with katsuki or the feeling of his dick throbbing almost painfully inside you. 

     ultimately, his attention is drawn to the way bakugou nips harshly at his lower lip—enough to draw a small amount of blood—and a moan gets caught in shouto’s throat, coming out as something more akin to a whimper instead; something that certainly makes katsuki’s ears perk up. had todoroki just fuckin’ whimpered from something he had done? for a reason other than getting pussy for the first time in his stupid virgin life? needless to say, it quickly goes to bakugou’s ego as he begins sucking on shouto’s lower lip, tongue swiping over it quickly at first, and then a second time that was considerably slower and more teasing in nature.

     poor shouto can feel himself going cross-eyed as he ruts into you sloppily, heavy balls smacking against your clit, and he knows he won’t last long like this at all. he’s kinda bummed he can’t …make love to you the way he would prefer, but right now, he doesn’t find himself picky at all—just grateful to be a part of this entire thing, even if he may not get the chance again in the future. that’s why it was critical for him to be present in the moment, literally drooling from how good he feels, as he uses his quirk on his tongue while swirling it around katsuki’s, the now freezing muscle licking over the insides of his cheeks and grooves of his teeth, sending a chill down your husband’s spine. 

    the saliva being exchanged between the two begins to dribble out from the corners of their mouths and drip down their chins and onto your arched back. holy shit. you nearly choke on katsuki’s dick at the feeling of their spit rolling down your spine and you moan in both disgust and twisted pleasure. 

    “nnmgh,” you moan, tongue pressed flat against the underside of his dick as shouto drills into you. now it’s you who finds themselves drooling profusely, your spit running down katsuki’s cock, soaking his balls. 

     the blond can feel himself throbbing down your throat and he groans from the combined stimulation of you blowing him and shouto’s icy tongue—he’s close and he knows it. …meaning that half and half whore was definitely about to cum, with the way your pussy is surely milking him for all he’s worth. 

     “shouto,” he grunts out, pulling away just enough to tell him that if he’s gonna cum, then he has to pull out—that katsuki was the only one allowed to cum inside you. 

     todoroki was more taken aback by the usage of his first name from bakugou of all people, and it’s all he can do to nod and mumble a quiet yeah. 

     it’s not much longer before both mean reach their climax around the same time—with shouto pulling out to jerk himself off for a few more seconds and he’s cumming all over your back with a loud cry as your husband cums in your mouth, thick cum spilling down your throat, past your tongue, not even giving you a chance to taste him.

     after both men catch their breath, katsuki slowly pulls you off of him as he gazes down at you with a particularly soft look in his eye—or maybe it’s satisfaction, you’re too fucked out to really tell. 

     “y’okay, princess?” your husband rasps out, grinning to himself at your teary eyes, one hand cupping your cheek, and you blindly lean into his warm touch.

     “mmhm,” is all you can hum in response, borderline brain dead from how many times you’d cum tonight—clit still throbbing from the earlier stimulation. 

     “good….” he directs his attention to shouto, but doesn’t ask him anything, instead looking him up and down, eyes lingering on his dick for a moment longer than he’d like to admit. he quickly redirects his gaze to shouto’s heterochromatic one, and the softest, barely there smile tugs at the corners of his lips. it was so small and brief, one might think they were hallucinating had they seen it, but todoroki catches sight of it, and he wants to say something, but finds himself speechless; so instead, he leans in to kiss your husband again, and, very much to his surprise, he doesn’t immediately recoil. given, he doesn’t lean in to meet him either, but he does kiss him back as you shift to the side, panting heavily while you watch the two muscular and domineering men go at it for the nth time tonight, and you can hardly believe your eyes.

     one hand slips down in between your legs as they kiss, rubbing gently at your sensitive bundle of nerves while shouto takes the initiative this time, running his now heated tongue over the seam of katsuki’s lips before licking into his mouth, but moans quietly when the usually angry, but now somewhat calm, blond begins sucking on the hot muscle, one hand coming up to almost cradle the back of shouto’s head as he buries in fingers in his two-toned hair, pulling at it roughly.

     “y’know icyhot, you’re really not that bad at this,” he tells him, which is the closest to doling out praise he’ll ever get. 

     shouto, however, takes this to heart as a soft smile pulls at his lips and suddenly he finds himself cupping katsuki’s face and knocking him onto the bed, clumsily clamoring on top of him, and your jaw genuinely drops at the scene in front of you. holy shit.

     “yeah?” shouto breathes from on top of katsuki, who was just as shocked as you were, if not moreso. what the fuck? how the fuck? what was he meant to do? he looks over to you for an idea of where to go with this, and his eyes widen when he sees you touching yourself to the sight of them. …alright, he supposes he can get behind this.

     looking back over to shouto, he replies: “sure, ..but i’m better,” and easily manages to flip the pair so that he was on top instead.

     “nngh–” you moan as softly, your free hand coming to grope one of your tits, pinching and tweaking with your already erect nipples. you don’t know if you can handle another orgasm, but the sight of the pair in front of each other is simply too hot to not jerk to.

     shouto, meanwhile, wraps his arms around katsuki’s neck as he pulls him in for a disgustingly sloppy and heated kiss, lips parting by themselves as he cranes his neck upwards. similarly, he moans as well, tongue already seeking out katsuki’s while you fondle yourself and slowly work yourself up to one final orgasm.

     nipping at his lower lip the same way he’d done to shouto earlier, katsuki retaliates by pulling away from the kiss to bite at his neck — even going as far as to suck against a few particular spots, leaving hickeys to bloom in the place of his mouth. for a moment, the idea of jerking shouto off crosses his mind, but that would be going too far for bakugou. 

     you, however, encourage this behavior, telling them to put on a show for you as you try not to cringe at the feeling of shouto’s cum drying on your bare back.

     so, it’s shouto who finds himself reaching for katsuki’s dick without a second thought, and he heats up his hand a bit to tease the poor blond (there is nothing poor about that man…), causing him to hiss in a mix of surprise and pleasure. 

     “shit—you’d think you would ask someone before just grabbing their dick,” he grunts out, making shouto chuckle a bit at his words.

     “sorry,” he says simply, thumb running over the leaky slit of his mushroom-headed tip, and he really, really wishes he could suck him off…… christ. maybe… maybe he should ask? you were the one who told them to put on a show after all..!

     shouto ultimately decides against it, though, too embarrassed to do so, and instead settles for jerking katsuki off slowly and with intent. 

     “nngh–” bakugou nearly whimpers—not that he’d ever actually do something like that, obviously—and he pulls at shouto’s hair, dick still sensitive from the way you’d sucked him off so good a few moments prior.

     it doesn’t take too long before katsuki finds himself cumming sooner than he’d like to admit, biting down on shouto’s neck in order to cope with the stimulation from his former classmate and fellow pro-hero. 

    you, too, find yourself cumming rather quickly, back arching off the mattress as shouto slows his pace to a halt, pulling his hand away and licking katsuki’s cum off it while making full eye contact with him—something that, shamefully, turned both you and the blond on. 

     you two would have to have a very serious discussion after this about how to move on from here, but for now, the two men turn their focus back to you, finally worn out for the night. katsuki easily shifts to lay next to you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist as shouto moves to get off the bed and go back to his guest room where he’d lay awake for the rest of the night—until he hears you call out for him softly, inviting him to sleep in your bed for the night; something katsuki doesn’t protest against, too tired to do so—and even if he did, his heart wouldn’t be in it. unfortunately, he very much enjoyed his time with the two of you tonight, and might seriously have to entertain your future request of letting shouto join your relationship.

     in the meantime, however, shouto abides and comes to lay on the other side of you, flushed and sweaty body pressing against your back as your chest smushes against katsuki’s significantly warmer one, and you’re quickly lulled to sleep by the sound of his heartbeat and shouto’s steady breathing.

return to KINKTOBER | K. BAKUGOU M.LIST | S. TODOROKI M.LIST

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 4

in which spencer reid and inexperienced fem!reader are interrupted at the most inopportune of times. he calls you on the first night of his case. dirty talk turns into a hard conversation. we get a glimpse into spencer's past, and we finally learn why he's so hesitant to sleep with you.

series masterlist

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: dirty talk, phone sex/mutual masturbation, softdom!spence, obligatory he talks u through it, lots of graphic discussions of sex, established relationship, angst (sorrryyy!) a/n: so remember how i said you'd need the bonus chapter to fully appreciate/understand this part? i was wrong!! it will come in handy probably in the next part tho:) also idk how these parts keep getting so long im sorry! anyway, i love you all so bad. thank you for bearing w/ my craziness. PLEASE let me know your thoughts on this part!! i adore hearing from you!! kisses

(also special thank you to @fliesforeyes who convinced me phone sex w/ spence could be done!! i will link his phone sex blurb here :)) thank u binx!!

“Three million six hundred eighty four thousand three hundred thirty two times fourteen million seven hundred sixty one thousand nine hundred seventy one.”

You’ve lost count of how many stupid math questions you’ve asked your human calculator boyfriend, just to see if he can actually do them. Spencer is silent for a second, and you think you’ve finally stumped him. 

“That one is complicated.”

You sit bolt upright in his bed, looking down at him and pointing an accusatory finger. His brows raise at the manic look in your eye. 

“You don’t know.”

“I do know. I meant it would be hard to explain if you aren’t a math person.”

“Bullshit!” You scoff, “you don’t know!”

“It would display on a calculator as five-point-three-eight-eight-E-thirteen. It’s a really big number.”

“Oh, really big, huh?” you mumble, searching for your phone blindly in the sheets and scrambling to open the calculator app. “Um… what numbers did I say?”

Spencer repeats them back to you and you press the equals sign. 

You look at it. 

And then you set your phone down. 

“I was right, huh?” he smiles up at you, probably reveling in your pouty wrongness. 

Too proud to admit it, you collapse on top of him, burying your face in his shoulder. 

“I don’t like this game anymore. What the fuck even is an e? Why are we doing algebra?”

Spencer laughs, brushing your hair aside. 

“The e stands for exponent. It’s to the power of ten.”

“Ever heard of a rhetorical question?”

“Yes, I have.”

It’s hard not to snort even at his dumbest jokes. 

“You’re annoying. Let’s do something else.”

You roll over onto your back again, letting your head flop over to look at Spencer, whose hair is exactly the right amount of messy after a long day, falling in impossibly soft waves over the perfect lines and contours of his face. Despite lounging, he’s still in his suit from work—he’d left Quantico and immediately picked you up. There were no solid plans for the evening, so after both of you pretended that you wanted to go out for a while, you ended up back at his apartment. 

He looks good. Almost too good. 

“Something like what?” he smiles lazily, reaching over and tracing his fingers over your cheek. 

“Something… naked?”

His grin widens and he shakes his head. 

“Me naked or you naked?”

Pretending to think about it, you roll your bottom lip between your teeth. 

“Mm… why not both?”

“Hm. Why do I feel like I know where this is going?”

The mattress sinks underneath your elbow as you prop yourself up, dropping your head over Spencer’s to kiss him. 

“Because you’re so smart, and you think it’s a great idea.”

He entertains your kiss for a moment. Just a moment.

“You sound sure of yourself.”

“Because I am!” You finally give in to your impulses, tangling your fingers in his hair and looking at him meaningfully. “It doesn’t make any sense for us to have not had sex. I don’t care about any of your weird, cryptic moral reasoning.”

He grabs your wrist carefully. 

“It is not moral,” he scoffs. “We haven’t even talked about it yet.”

“Really? Because I feel like we’ve talked about it a lot.” 

He begins to reply, but you realize you don’t want to get into a debate over whether you’ve technically talked about it yet. “I don’t even care! If that’s all that’s standing in your way, then let’s talk about it. Right now.”

Spencer sighs, his eyes darting between yours as he reaches up to cradle your cheek. 

“Fine. But I have things to say you’re not going to like.”

“So business as usual?”

He rolls his eyes. You allow yourself a tiny self-satisfied smirk, forever relishing in his poorly-hidden soft spot for your constant teasing. Spencer ignores this. Which is probably for the best. 

“I know you probably won’t see it this way, but—sex is different than everything else we’ve done so far. It can be really fun, obviously it feels good, it facilitates deeper feelings of connection—that’s all true. Which is why, in my opinion, it’s incredibly important that you be selective with who you sleep with. Because it’s so easy to do something you regret, and sex is vulnerable. It should always be with someone you trust and—and… care about.”

A pink flush stains his cheeks like watercolor as he stumbles over the last few words. It makes your heart flutter against the confines of your chest.

Maybe best not to think about the absence versus presence of certain four-letter words and what they may or may not mean. You’ll move on to more pressing matters and pretend like it doesn’t ache just a little in your whole body. 

You cover his hand with your own. 

“Are you going to break up with me anytime soon?”

Spencer’s eyes widen, filling with genuine horror and confusion. 

“What? No!”

“Are you going to cheat on me?”

“Absolutely not, I—”

“Then I’m not going to regret it. Issue resolved. Moving on.”

“Honey, I just want you to be 100% sure that I’m what you want.”

“Oh my god,” you groan, flopping onto your back once more. “I have begged you to sleep with me on multiple occasions. We have been dating for months and I liked you even longer before that. I think about it literally every time I see you. I don’t know how to be any surer.”

It’s quiet for a moment as you study the imaginary pattern on the ceiling. The rebuttal you’d been anticipating doesn’t come—instead, the mattress shifts next to you. Spencer enters your field of vision, now leaning over you with a little smile on his face that gives you butterflies. 

“Every time?”

“…yes, every time,” you agree, voice considerably thinner than it had been a moment ago. Spencer glances at your lips as he speaks. 

“Interesting. And what is it that you think about exactly?”

You groan again, attempting to roll facedown, but he pins your shoulder to the bed. The way he’s sweetly kissing down your cheek and jaw is infuriating because you know it’s a false pretense. 

“Ugh, I don’t know! Don’t make me answer that!”

“You said if talking about it was all that was standing in my way, we would talk about it. Now I want to talk about it. Come on,” he says, voice low and cloying against your throat as he attempts to tease the answer out of you. “Tell me what you think about when you think about us having sex.”

You let out a shaky breath at the feeling of his lips skimming your neck, hating how easily he can reduce you to this. 

“I… I always wonder what it will feel like. Sometimes I wonder if it will hurt.”

Spencer sighs, interrogation by way of seduction momentarily forgotten. You silently curse yourself for saying something so un-sexy. 

“It might, sweetheart. That’s one of the reasons we’ve held back. I… really don’t want to hurt you. I don’t even know if I can.”

You grab his face in both hands, forcing him to look at you with more confidence than you feel. 

“Sometimes I worry about it, too. But I like you a lot more than it scares me. I still want to.”

He kisses your palm. 

“You’ll be okay. It doesn’t hurt for everyone, and even if it does, you’re resilient.”

“Exactly. So you have to get over yourself.”

Spencer laughs like he wasn’t expecting to, eyes sparkling as he regards you.  

“Yeah. Yeah, maybe I do.”

He’s smiling again as he leans down and kisses you—a slow, lingering thing which tastes like spearmint as you part your lips for him. 

“Please?” you whisper against him after a long moment. He hums, keeps kissing you. 

“What is it that you think you want? You don’t even know what you’re asking for.”

���Tell me,” you beg, chasing his lips. “Tell me what you’re going to do with me. We can talk about it. This is talking about it.”

Spencer exhales deeply, wedging a thigh between yours. Immediately you clamp around it, trying not to grind against him too overtly. 

“You want to know what I’d do to you?”

“Yes—” you paw at his jacket. Surprisingly, he doesn’t stop you from pushing it off. Your heart pounds. 

“Well… we both know how anxious you get,” he muses, pressing his lips so delicately to your fluttering pulse-point in emphasis, and then back to your mouth. His thigh pushes harder against you to supplant the absence of his lips as he speaks, though he kisses you sporadically and between sentences. “You’re hard to get out of your head when you’re nervous, you know that? I watch it happen. One minute you’re with me, and then you start overthinking, and getting self-conscious. The only thing that seems to relax you is letting me touch you—so first I would touch you like I’ve touched you before. I’d make sure you know how pretty you are and how good you deserve to feel.” You whimper inadvertently at his words, arching into him and grinding against his leg as he pauses to kiss the sensitive soft spot below your jaw. “You’re going to need to be really ready to let me in. Do you know what I mean by that?”

As he asks, he pushes his thigh against you harder. Your body responds immediately, arching into him and seeking more friction. When you squeak, he takes it as a no. 

“I mean I need you relaxed and wet. You’ll excuse my crude language.”

You pull at his tie, breathing heavier now and so turned on it’s almost painful. 

“What are you gonna do after that?”

“What else is there to do but fuck you after that?” he breathes. “You want me to tell you how I’d fuck you?”

Something about it makes you whine salaciously. You’ve heard him curse—you’ve even heard him talk about fucking you. But it feels more real now; when it’s low in your ear and you’re covertly undressing him and he’s pushing your shirt over your stomach promisingly. 

“Yes, please.” 

He hums against your jaw, nipping and brushing his lips over the skin as he considers. Leaves you waiting. 

“I would have to take my time with you. You’ll be overwhelmed. I know you think you won’t, but you will. I’m going to have to be so, so careful with you, angel. It’s going to drive me insane. But it will feel good for you.”

“Why careful? I don’t want that.”

He chuckles. A chill runs down your spine. 

“Yeah, you do. You’re going to want me to be careful when I’m—” he pauses, pressing his thumb to your bare lower tummy and dragging up to a spot below your belly button. He presses down lightly again. “Right here. Approximately.”

The surface of the sun has nothing on the temperature of your skin in this moment, as you writhe underneath him in both arousal and embarrassment. Mostly, burning need. You feel almost sick with it. 

“Please don’t make me wait anymore. Just do it, please, Spencer. I need it to be you, I don’t want it to be anyone else. I promise I’m ready.”

It’s silent for a moment. Your heart quickens. You sense his walls wearing away, his instinct to keep you intact for god knows what reason crumbling. He’s finally going to give you what you’ve been begging for. 

Spencer opens his mouth, eyes glimmering—

And then his phone rings. 

You both freeze—he melts dejectedly before you do, more accustomed to an ill-timed phone call and realizing the finality it can present. 

He’s breathing heavily against your neck, as if maybe whoever it is will just hang up. But the phone keeps ringing. 

“I’m sorry.”

Your stomach sinks as he sits up, grabbing his phone from the side table and rubbing circles on your inner thigh as he answers.

“This is Reid,” he says, lackluster. 

If you wanted, you could hear what Penelope is saying—but you don’t bother listening. It’s going to be a case. Spencer is about to leave. The details are his problem. 

“Okay. I’ll be there in an hour.”

He hangs up, tossing the phone onto the mattress and not speaking for a moment, just continuing to rub your leg apologetically. Watching you almost mournfully—taking in your disheveled hair, your likely blown-out pupils, the shirt pushed almost over your chest. 

“I have to go right now,” he finally manages with a heavy sigh, gently pulling your shirt back into place. 

You sit up, shedding all the hopes that had been building for the evening, and try to sound chipper—though all you feel is bitter disappointment that goes deeper than you understand. 

“I know. Go ahead, I can get a cab home.”

He frowns, running his hand over the back of your hair. 

“I don’t love the idea of you standing on the sidewalk waiting for a car in this part of town so late. Do you just want to stay here for the night and go home tomorrow?”

You force a smile. Great. So you’ll be spending the night in his bed after all—just without him. 

“Sure. Thanks.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of you are feeling particularly grateful. 

Soon you’re walking him to his own door. Both of you come to a stop in front. 

“I’m sorry,” he sighs again. 

“Spencer, it’s fine. It’s your job. You don’t need to apologize. You were very clear about this part when we started dating.”

“I know, but… it’s easier in theory than in practice.”

You smile. If Spencer is a reflection of you, it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. His hair is still messy from your fingers running through it and he’s missing his tie. You hope all his coworkers see and feel bad about taking him away from you. 

But it’s not their fault. You just want someone to blame. 

Instead you mould yourself to his body, wrapping around him like you belong there. He returns your embrace, pressing his lips into the crook of your shoulder and rubbing your back in that way he always does with you. 

In that moment, your affection for him becomes so profound it’s like a chemical reaction—everywhere he touches burns and you love him so fucking much it aches in every inch of your body the way your muscles do when you have a bad fever. Love is the most terrible of afflictions, you realize. It is a fever dream. It’s every fiber of your being screaming to tell him how you feel, to beg him on your knees not to go because you love him like a child loves a parent or a bee loves honeysuckle or the ocean loves the horizon. Pared down to your most basic components, the barest version of yourself, you require him. Your soul needs his soul. 

“Spencer?”

“Hm?” 

It’s nothing more than an absentminded hum against your skin. 

“I…”

Should you be looking him in the eye when you say this? Should you say it right before he has to leave? Just because you say it doesn’t change the fact that he’s about to be gone for several long days. Maybe this is a terrible time to admit something that suddenly feels so true and so consequential. 

He senses your internal conflict, pulling back despite your resistance and holding your face between his hands. 

“You what?” He murmurs, soft eyes bouncing back and forth between your own. Fuck—you feel so observed, now. Like he can read your mind. 

“I forget.”

FUUUUUUCK. 

Spencer blinks. Processes. You watch the disbelief crystallizing over his eyes like ice freezing over a lake. 

He knows. 

He knows you didn’t forget, and he probably knows what you were going to say, and he’s going to tell himself he was wrong to spare your dignity. 

Everything hurts when he kisses you. You wonder what regret tastes like. 

“Well, let me know if you remember.”

It’s too gentle and at the same time he can’t hide the edge with all the tenderness in the world. You nod as if in a trance, already looking forward to dissociating as you lie in bed and stare at the dark ceiling.

Two small goodbyes are exchanged, slightly stifled now, as if shared between drunk strangers who have sobered up and are mutually embarrassed about how candidly they’d interacted before. 

You close the door behind him, doing up all the locks, and meticulously flick every light switch in the apartment off before climbing into his bed—though you don’t really feel like you deserve to be there anymore.

But perhaps this is all an overreaction. It’s not like you owe it to him to say I love you, or anything—it was bad timing, anyway. And why can’t he say it? In fact, why hasn’t he said it? 

Maybe you have it all wrong. 

Maybe he doesn’t feel that way about you. 

You fall asleep before you allow these questions to make you sick. 

24 hours go by. 

24 hours go by and you really had meant to leave his apartment—it was just that you woke up late, and your phone was dead so you couldn’t call a car, so you charged it while you made breakfast, and then you ate, and then you decided to take a shower and wash your clothes, and then it was two in the afternoon and you hadn’t left yet and you decided to walk to the store and replenish the groceries you’d used up. 

Maybe you got a bit distracted looking at flowers and other beautiful things at the market and by the time you got home it was 5:00, so you decided to wait until seven to skip rush hour. And then eight, just to be sure. 

Before you know it, it’s midnight, and you’re dozing off in his bed again (teeth cleaned with the brush you’d bought at the store—maybe this whole situation hadn’t been entirely unwitting on your part.)

Throughout the day, you tried to let all your anxiety about the previous night melt away. If it’s something that needs to be addressed, Spencer will address it. Everything will work out in the end. That thought is how you’re able to doze off. 

You’re almost asleep when your phone lights up and begins buzzing on the side table. You wince as your eyes open, not adjusting well to the harsh bright display and unable to discern who’s even calling you at this hour. Stupidly, probably because you’re half asleep, you answer without checking. 

“Hello?”

Your voice is groggy, quiet with sleep. 

“Shit, did I wake you?”

“Spence?” you whisper, stomach flipping at the sound of his voice on the other line. You feel caught, still sleeping in his bed. 

“… yeah,” he chuckles. “Did you not check who was calling before you picked up?”

“I was asleep,” you pout. “Kinda.”

“Okay. Go back to sleep, honey. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

You sit bolt upright, phone balanced between tense fingers and speaking directly into the microphone. 

“No! No, I’m awake. What’s up? Why did you call?”

A longer stretch of silence—you’re too sleepy to comprehend what it might mean, though never too sleepy to worry about it. With a pang of pain, you recall your strange goodbye, the words you hadn’t said. 

“I just needed to hear your voice,” he sighs. You frown, staring at nothing in particular in the pitch black room. 

“Oh. Is everything okay?”

“As much as it can be.”

“Right.”

More quiet. You chew on the inside of your cheek, stricken with a sudden feeling of awkwardness that you haven’t had with Spencer in a while. 

“I’m sorry… I don’t really know what to say.”

“That’s okay,” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice which makes you feel a bit better, “why don’t you tell me about your day? Or you can absolutely go back to sleep, if you’re too tired.”

“Don’t ask me about my day,” you whisper, flopping down on the bed once more. Shame seeps into your voice. He laughs. 

“What? Why?”

“Because if I tell you you’re going to think I’m super weird and you’re going to break up with me.”

Laughter tapers off into gentler tones. 

“I already think you’re super weird. It’s actually one of your most attractive qualities.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks. 

“But it’s like… borderline crazy.”

Immediately, he replies, “for better or worse, I also frequently find myself attracted to crazy.”

“Thank you for calling me crazy and super weird,” you grumble. 

“I also called you attractive twice. Tell me.”

When his tone takes on that easy, assertive quality, and it’s sort of raspy and low because it’s late and he’s been talking all day, and you can hear the lazy smile on his face—you imagine him laying on his hotel bed, arm slung over his eyes in the dark as he grins into the microphone—you have a very difficult time saying no. 

“Fine. Guess where I am right now.”

“Um, I would hope you’re in bed?”

You smile to yourself, basking in the victory of successfully throwing him off his game even slightly. 

“Guess whose bed.”

Silence. 

“What an interesting question.” That cocky smile, the low drawling is back, and you chew on your lip, ignoring the shiver that runs down your spine. “If it’s not mine or yours, we’re going to have issues.”

“But if it is yours? You’re not going to call the police on me?”

“Why would I call the police? To tell them there’s a pretty girl in my bed and I don’t want her there?”

“To tell them your psychopathic girlfriend broke into your apartment and might be holding hostages there.”

Spencer laughs; a brittle, drawn out thing, flat and quiet as the desert.

“If you were a psychopath, calling the cops would be a waste of time. I would handle you myself.” The idea of being handled has your thighs clenching. “But—yeah, don’t invite anyone else in.” More humor finds its way into his voice, momentarily relieving some tension that had sneakily begun to build. “Having people in my space makes me anxious.”

“But not me?” Your whisper is half flirtatious, half insecure. Spencer’s reply is soft, as if he’s picking up on this from hundreds of miles away.

“No, not you. You are always the exception.”

“Good,” you say, cheeks aching as you half-bury your warm face into his pillow. “Because I made myself really comfortable. You have a nice shower, by the way.”

Spencer groans. 

“You’re killing me.”

“What? What did I do!”

“Don’t talk to me about my bed and my shower. I might start to think you’re intentionally being a brat.”

“You asked me about my day! I’m just telling you what I did!”

But you’re also intentional teasing him for sure.  After a pause, he sighs in defeat. 

“You’re right. I did do that. Tell me what else happened.”

“Well,” you begin, all too eager, “I had to put my clothes in the dryer after I got out, so I borrowed some of yours. But then they were way comfier than mine, so after I went to the store I put them back on, and—”

“Okay.”

“Okay what?” you frown. 

“Tell me what this is.”

“I—I don’t know what you mean.”

Lying to a profiler is usually pointless. 

“I’m not stupid, sweetheart. Tell me why you keep talking about my shower and my bed and my clothes.”

Caught red-handed. Your skin heats up. 

“I don’t know. I miss you.”

He hums in a way that blurs the line between sympathetic and patronizing. Even through the phone you can feel the bass of it in your bones.  It changes the frequency you’re vibrating at. It’s hypnotic. 

“But that’s not really why you’re being intentionally provocative, is it?”

“No,” you admit quietly. “I’m still upset you had to go last night.”

“So you’re frustrated and you’re taking it out on me?”

Your brow furrows. Well, when he puts it like that…

“I’m not taking anything out on you.”

“I think you are. And I don’t appreciate that, because I’m on your side, honey. Do you think I prefer being in a hotel bed by myself or being in my bed with you?”

Somehow, he makes you feel like a scolded child. But he makes it appealing in ways you don’t understand. 

“Your bed with me,” you murmur, skin prickling with the coldness of his absence even as you curl under the blanket. 

“Right. So why don’t you tell me what I can do for you right now, instead of punishing me for things that are beyond my control?”

“I wasn’t punishing you,” you mutter. 

“No? You weren’t intentionally talking about using my shower and sleeping in my bed and putting on my clothes so that I’d have to think about what I can’t have right now?”

“I—”

“Believe me when I tell you I have been thinking about what I can’t have, all day. Your efforts are entirely redundant and you can’t say anything about yourself that is even close to as dirty as the frankly disrespectful thoughts I’ve been having about you for seventeen hours.”

The lack of air is making you so dizzy your vision goes gray at the edges. 

“What… what thoughts?”

“None that you need to concern yourself with.”

“You can’t just say something like that and then not tell me!” you insist. He’s obviously giving you a taste of your own medicine and it’s fair but it doesn’t mean you have to like it. 

“I can do whatever I want,” Spencer corrects cooly in a way that pisses you off beyond belief because he’s right. It triggers some adolescent immaturity within you—a desire to get back at him, so to speak. He wants intentionally provocative? He can have it. 

“Fine. Then so can I. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it even if I could.”

“Spencer,” you warn. “If you don’t tell me what you were thinking I’m gonna—” you look around the room for ammo. “I’m gonna look through your nightstand!”

“Go ahead. I’ll warn you, it’s not very interesting.”

“Sounds like what someone who has something hide would say,” you mumble, crawling across the mattress through tangled sheets and using your phone flashlight to open the drawer. 

Spencer is patient and silent as you take in its contents—a small blue leather-bound notebook (full of what looks like Russian), a fountain pen, a glasses case, various kinds of vitamins, and—

“Spencer Reid,” you say, dragging out his name and pretending nothing is fluttering in your stomach, “what are these?”

“I don’t know. I can’t see what you’re referring to.”

“Take a wild guess.”

“Oh, I have one. But I’d like to hear you say it.”

You realize you may have gotten yourself in deeper than you meant to by going through his stuff. Well—they don’t say karma is a bitch for nothing. 

“What are you doing with a box of condoms?” 

He chuckles and you feel it in your whole body, warm as you stretch across his mattress and eye the box like it might jump out at you. 

“Those are years old. I’ve used three since I bought them.”

“Don’t tell me that,” you whine. “I don’t wanna think about all the other women you’ve seduced.”

“You wanted them to be for you, huh?” 

You flush. Honestly you hadn’t even thought about that. 

“I… I don’t know. I kind of just assumed…”

It’s silent for a second and you frown, realizing you hadn’t even considered protection when you’d imagined sleeping with him before. 

“You assumed what, honey?” he asks, voice soft. 

“It’s dumb. I can’t tell you.”

“You can tell me anything. I’m not going to think it’s dumb, I promise.”

You chew on your lip, letting your eyes unfocus on the box as you muster the courage to be honest. 

“Whenever I imagined it… we didn’t… use anything.”

The words make you cringe even as you’re saying them. So does the quiet that follows. 

“When you imagine us sleeping together, we don’t use a condom?”

“Ah!” The phone drops to the mattress as you cover your ears and roll onto your side, curling into yourself once more. “You didn’t have to say it! You make me sound so weird!”

“It’s not weird,” he laughs, because he can probably imagine exactly what you just did, “I just wanted to make sure I was understanding you. That said… we would definitely use protection.”

“Do we have to?”

The quiet words take even you by surprise—and they seem to stun Spencer as well. Several false starts are punctuated by a sigh as he gathers his thoughts. 

“We really should, baby. That’s the kind of thing we need to take seriously.”

“But you’re… you’re good, right?”

Thankfully he picks up on your meaning. 

“I am. I wouldn’t touch you if I weren’t.”

“And I’m good. So...”

“Hm. And has anyone ever explained to you where babies come from?”

You groan in frustration. 

“Spencer, I’m being serious! There are ways to negate that.”

“Honey,” he murmurs, “I understand that. But it would be irresponsible of me to say yes. We can talk about it in the future, but—”

“I’m telling you it’s already dealt with. The chances of an accidental pregnancy are slim to none.”

The new information hangs in the air for a moment until Spencer speaks—to your surprise, his voice is low and humorous. 

“That is… good to know. But even so—I’m setting a dangerous precedent if I always let you get exactly what you want.”

“Is it such a bad thing that I just wanna—I wanna know what it feels like? You don’t want that?”

“That’s not what I said. I want to know exactly what you feel like. I’m just hesitant to give in so quickly because it makes me look weak.”

You laugh breathlessly, caught between being turned on by the first part of his sentence and amused by the sarcastic second half. Your thighs clench and your hand absentmindedly wanders between them. 

“You know what I was thinking about?” you ask. Spencer hums curiously. “I was thinking about when you let me, um… when you let me touch you how you touch me.” He hums again, but you can hear the amused curve of a smile in it now.

“When you had your mouth all full of me and you looked so pretty?”

“When I—yeah,” you agree, too caught up to deny his compliment as your fingers brush your most sensitive spot through clothing. “And  how you got me all messy after. And I was wondering what it would feel like… inside me.”

He sucks in a breath. Your legs brush against each other and you twist slightly as you pretend like you’re not touching yourself just a little bit. 

“You want me to come inside you?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, brain short-circuiting at the way those words sound in his voice. 

—

On the other side of the line, Spencer isn’t doing a fantastic job of thinking clearly either. His dick is half-hard already and it’s only getting worse with each little noise you make that you don’t seem to realize you’re making. 

“Really? That would be very messy, baby. I’m surprised that’s what you want.”

“But I really want it,” you breathe. He’s not even looking as he slips his hand under the waistband of his pajamas and palms himself, his other hand rubbing tiredly over his face as his phone rests on his chest. This was not how he intended for this call to go, believe it or not—but he’s here now. 

“Yeah? Is that why you’re touching yourself right now?”

You go silent—which is more or less exactly the reaction Spencer had been expecting. Patiently he waits for you to deny it, in three, two—

“’M not.”

Now, he could explain how he knows that’s a lie. How your breathing pattern changed, and your voice got softer and airier, and how you started speaking with smaller words in fragmented sentences. But he doesn’t feel like explaining any of that. 

“I know that’s not true,” he murmurs. “You know what? It wasn’t fair to get you all worked up last night and then leave. I don’t want you frustrated, honey. I want you to do whatever you need to do.”

You make a little gasping noise, and Spencer can imagine the way your back would arch when you did it. His own hips buck slightly as his dick twitches under his fingers. 

“Where are you touching?”

“Um—over my clothes.”

Cute. 

“Go under them for me. Tell me how it feels when you’re touching yourself like that.”

It takes a moment, in which all he hears is the rustling of fabric, until you’re whispering, “feels… it feels good. I wish you were here.”

He inhales, freeing his cock and squeezing the base. 

“I know. Just listen to my voice, pretty. I’m right here.”

Spencer allows himself a few slow tugs as he imagines what’s happening in his bed. You make a squeaking noise, like a held-back moan, and his eyes screw shut. 

“I need them inside,” you whine, and he knows you’re referring to his fingers—the ones currently stroking his own leaking cock. 

“You can use your own, just give yourself a minute first. Remember what I said about needing to be ready?”

“I am ready—” judging by the surprised chirp you interrupt yourself with, you’ve proven yourself right. What surprises Spencer is the weak sound of disappointment you make next. “Spence, it doesn’t feel the same.”

“We’re different sizes, honey. Your hands aren’t as big as mine. But you can still make it feel good.” 

He almost says, 90% of the nerves in the vaginal canal are located in the lower third—in other words, within approximately 2.36 inches from the opening, which you can most certainly reach—but he refrains. He’s not sure if that’s good dirty talk. 

“You have a really sensitive spot about three inches up, right in front. It’s going to feel a little different than the rest of you when you touch it. I want you to try and find it for me, okay?”

“Okay,” you breathe, ever-eager to please even from a great distance. There’s a quiet moment. “I can’t—I don’t think I can r—oh,”

The moan is so pretty Spencer can’t help speeding up the motion of his hand, hissing slightly as his fingers brush against the angry tip with every pump. 

“Did you find it?”

“Yeah,” you whine, a weak, high-pitched thing. “Oh my god.”

“Be gentle,” he warns with some effort as his own hips jump slightly. “You’re really sensitive there. If you’re not careful you’ll make yourself sore.”

“I don’t care—holy shit—” the way your voice rises and tightens to a squeak at the end has Spencer moaning as he fucks his fist. A black hole forms and warps time, turning every minute into a second and every second into an infinity until he has no idea how much time is going by. He drags his thumb over the tip, smearing precum over his cock and whining as his jaw drops at the feeling. “Oh my god, Spencer,” in that same strained, high voice. “’M gonna—ah!”

He gets the general sentiment. 

“What, baby? You’re gonna make yourself come all over your fingers? Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

“Mhm!”

“Yeah, I bet you are. It feels good, huh?”

“Yes,” you cry. 

“See? You don’t need my fingers to feel good. Mine barely fit, you know that? I have to hold your fucking hips down whenever I put my fingers in you because you can’t stop squirming. I don’t know how you think you’re going to take my cock.”

“Spencer!” 

He knows. 

“Come, baby. Let me hear you.”

The delicate sounds you make as you bring yourself to orgasm tip him over the edge of his own—grunting as he comes all over his fist. 

“Jesus,” he strains under his breath, the word dragging out into two long syllables as his hips buck involuntarily and cum drips down his knuckles. He’s lightheaded and he’s created a mess and it all happened so quickly. “Fuck,” he breathes, a rasping chuckle as he reaches for the towel he’d dropped on the bed after his shower earlier. “You conscious over there?”

“I’m conscious,” you slur, breathing heavily. “I’ve never had an orgasm by myself before.”

“Are you proud of yourself?” Spencer smiles, wiping his hand off and making sure he’s otherwise clean. “You should be. I am.”

He’s barely kidding. 

“I’ll be proud when I can do it without your help,” you tease. 

“But I’ll always want to help you with that.” His already warm face flushes further as he goes over what he’d said. “Sorry I was so vulgar.”

You laugh. He blushes even more. 

“Are you? I think you secretly love being vulgar.”

“I don’t know why! I have no idea where it comes from. I would never speak that way in any other context. I should probably work on that. Sometimes I look back on the things I say and I’m genuinely appalled.”

“Well, don’t stop on my account. Personally I enjoy it.”

“Yeah, I think I’m corrupting you. You probably shouldn’t enjoy it.”

The truth of it weighs heavy on his mind, but he’s pretty sure his voice alone doesn’t betray that and you can’t sense it through the phone. 

“Oh, my god. Do not do that falling on your sword shit. I like being corrupted by you. If you stop I’ll be very upset.”

“Well god forbid you get upset,” he teases gently. Idly he wonders if the reason he’s suddenly feeling so depressed is because his cortisol levels were already high from the case, and then he jarred his system with an orgasm, spiking his dopamine and ultimately causing it to plummet without the oxytocin release that post-coital physical contact would usually provide. 

Or if it was something else. It could also be something else. 

For the millionth time, he wishes he was with you. Part of him also wants to go to sleep. But mostly he wishes he was with you. 

—

A comfortable silence settles over the conversation. In the ditch between words, you’re mapping constellations in the texture of Spencer’s ceiling. If you squeeze your eyes almost shut, you can imagine it really is the night sky. You can imagine he’s really here. 

You think about what he said—his apparently mindless vulgarity. Did it mean anything? Or was he just rambling to get you off?

“Spencer?” you murmur. 

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

He sounds earnest, perhaps a little tired, as he replies, “always,” through the little metal rectangle on your chest. He likes me and my questions are important to him, you repeat to yourself silently as you work up the strength. 

“If Penelope hadn’t called, last night… were you going to have sex with me?” 

Your lip tastes like his toothpaste as you chew it. Spencer sucks in a breath of air like he’s about to speak—and lets it fizzle out like foam on a carbonated drink. 

“I don’t know,” he finally admits, lamely. “That wasn’t my plan, but you can be extremely convincing when you want to be.”

“But why can’t it be your plan?” It’s an almost whine, pouty and childish—but the next words are quiet and pained. “Is it something I’m doing wrong?”

“No, no! It’s not you. You’re perfect. It’s—it’s complicated. It’s a me thing.”

Such trite words—such a ubiquitous, simple excuse sounds almost comical from his mouth when you know he’s capable of all the eloquence in the world. It’s not you, it’s me. It’s ridiculous. 

“Okay. Let me simplify this for you,” you begin with an uncharacteristic assertiveness that surprises even you. “I want to have sex with you. Either we are going to have sex or we’re not. So your future branches in two diverging paths. In one, we have sex, and then we keep having sex. In the other we never have sex ever. If you want to ever have the privilege of fucking me, then we just have to do it. Otherwise it simply will never happen. And I’m not eternally patient, Reid.”

Go me, you think, slightly breathless from your monologue. 

“Watch your mouth,” he says dryly. Something about the chastisement makes your stomach flip and your whole body tingle. “When you talk to me you call me Spencer. I will also accept Doctor Reid.” You wrestle down a smile, refusing to let him change the subject. A delayed sigh from him sobers up the conversation. “You know what I want. I’ve been very clear with you about that. But…”

“But…?”

Another sigh. A deeper, shuddering sigh, like his breath is searching for balance. Like Spencer is in a precarious position for which he was unprepared. 

“But—but to be completely honest… I worry that you’ll regret choosing me. And I know virginity is a social construct and I’m not implying that your worth will somehow be diminished if we have sex but regardless of my views on virginity as a construct, having sex for the first time can be weird and scary and it’s incredibly intimate and I don’t want you to regret your first time like I regret mine because you chose the wrong person.”

The words come at you so rapid-fire it takes you a moment to process them. And aside from all the ways you want to reassure him that you will not regret choosing him—that you could never, ever regret anything about him—one thing stands out. 

“You regret your first time?” 

Something between a scoff and a sigh travels through the line. You can tell he’s not annoyed at you for asking so much as he’s flustered himself with all his own words as he occasionally does. 

“Yeah. Yes. Sometimes I do. The person—she didn’t… like me as much as I liked her. And I was really, really in love with her, and she knew that and she knew she wasn’t in love with me—or maybe she was, I don’t know—but my point is, when one person likes the other more than the other person like them, things get complicated. And however you feel about me—that’s fine. It’s fine. I don’t want you to feel bad if we don’t feel exactly the same way about each other. I understand that this is newer for you, it’s different, I—I just don’t want us to do something we can’t undo because I don’t want to relive that. And I’m not saying it will never happen but I just don’t want you to make this choice when… when right now, I think we’re in different places emotionally. Regardless of that, I want you to choose the right person. I don’t want you to choose me and then find out that we feel differently after we sleep together and leave you feeling like you signed up for something you didn’t understand. I’m sorry. Maybe telling you this is selfish. But I’ve been thinking about it and trying to ignore it and I think I just have to be completely honest.”

Your ears ring like Spencer just fired a blank right into the microphone. Like you just got backhanded across the face and now you have the world’s worst case of whiplash. 

Every finger is numb and your blood is so cold it feels blue as it slithers thick through your veins. 

What you want to do is scream. What you want to do is go back to last night and stop yourself from almost telling him I love you, slap yourself and keep your cards a little closer to your chest. Because now he knows, and he doesn’t feel the same. 

You want to scream bloody murder. 

But when you try, when you unhinge your jaw and part your chapped lips and expect a bellow to come hurdling up the corridor of your throat with so much force it rattles your bones, all that falls out is a small, “oh.”

Maybe that’s worse. 

Spencer doesn’t reply. You hate yourself for feeling obliged to fill the silence. 

“I didn’t realize you…”

I didn’t realize that you don’t love me back. 

I didn’t realize I like you more than you like me. 

I didn’t realize you’d tell me to masturbate in your fucking bed and then drop this not even five minutes later. 

If Spencer Reid was able to talk to you over the phone with the same amount of affection and familiarity as always, like everything was still okay, knowing you love him and he doesn’t love you the whole time, he is not who you thought he was. 

“I’m sorry,” he lamely says again, like it could ever help. 

More silence. Now you can’t bring yourself to speak, so Spencer does. 

“I realize how awkward this is. I really didn’t mean to put you in this position. Especially not over the phone when I—god, I’m stupid. I’m sorry. But can we—can we talk about this in person when I get back? Please?”

Is that what grownups do? Is the proper etiquette for him to take you out to dinner and explain why he’s not in love with you? Is he going to break up with you?

What does one even wear to a breakup date?

“Okay,” you whisper. Your eyes sting, your everything stings, like you’ve been wrapped in a shroud of briar. Sheets that were soft a moment ago feel like sandpaper on open wounds. You feel like an open wound. 

Spencer sighs. It’s a sound of relief that confuses and hurts you even more. 

“Okay. I—okay. Thank you. Um—I’ll let you go back to sleep, now.”

“Okay,” you repeat—as if any of this were okay. But you can’t keep being that stupid girl who feels it all so much harder, who loves easily and begs to be loved in return, too naive to assume that someone who treats her so kindly might not reciprocate her feelings. It has to be okay, because if it’s not, you’re silly and dramatic and you’re just proving him right. 

“Goodnight,” Spencer whispers, and you can’t help but feeling that it’s the last time you’ll ever hear those words from his mouth while you’re in his bed. And he’s not even fucking here.

So you pull the blanket a little higher. You let your tears stain his pillow because they’ll be invisible by the morning. It will be like they were never here. Like you were never here. 

“Goodnight.”

-

part five

[astonmartinii]

bad blood (lando's version) | lando norris social media au

pairing: lando norris x fem carlos ex!reader

band aid's don't fix bullet holes but his best friend might

based on this request:so reader is a famous model who’s also carlos ex (dated YEARS) and after the breakup he jumped straight to rebeca (we just need a tiny bit of bad blood). soo she and lando always got along, ever since carlos was in mclaren. the point is they get together and come hand in hand to a gp out of nowhere so drama and more bad blood surface - you can lead this to whatever you want hehe, thanks!!! - @lorenakaspersen

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

vogue

liked by hunterschafer, landonorris and 1,209,433 others

tagged: yourusername

vogue: y/n y/ln takes the cover for this month, where she talks re-discovering herself and giving yourself time to move on. copies in stores everywhere this friday.

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user1: i am once again asking how the fuck that man fumbled a bad bitch like her

user2: do not bring that man up here, he actually boils my blood

user3: honestly thank god they wear helmets in f1 cause if i saw his smug little face i may have smashed by tv

yourusername: thank you for having me hehehehhe xx

vogue: you dropped this queen 👑

user4: not vogue supporting her more than carlos ever did 🤨

user5: at least lando still supports her

user6: i'm glad the friends she made... i.e lando, charles, max, daniel, etc did also abandon her when carlos just dropped her

hunterschafer: you're the person i see in your dreams

yourusername: are you sure i'm not just your sleep paralysis demon?

hunterschafer: you're welcome to stalk mine dreams anytime

user7: how am i meant to care about f1 without y/n?

user8: she's the reason i learnt about the sport but at leats now i have an excuse to support someone else LOL

landonorris: tinkerbell looks a little bit different here

yourusername: i thought you were too old to watch peter pan?

landonorris: i just said that so you would think i'm a big macho man :(

yourusername: that is tragic

landonorris: can i interest you in a movie night some time soon then

yourusername: you might

user9: WHAT IS GOING ON HERE ^^

user10: idk but i am excited

f1wagupdates

liked by user11, user12 and 4,032 others

f1wagsupdates: carlos sainz debuts his new girlfriend rebecca donaldson at the bahrain grand prix, just one month after breaking up with model y/n y/ln. sainz and y/ln were together for three years, and sainz was seen with donaldson for the first time just a week after the breakup.

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user13: lol the wag accounts are done with his ass

f1wagsupdates: i am a y/n y/ln stan first and foremost

user14: anyone see the absolute stink eye charles and lando gave carlos LOL

user15: that's the thing when you're together for so long, the friends get attached as well

user16: i mean if certified homie hopper charles leclerc is calling your bluff then you know you've fucked up

user17: i will never understand how he jumped into a relationship with her after three years ?? LIKE IT WAS NOTHING

user18: things like that make me glad i'm single

user19: the thing that is bothering me that no one has said yet is the fact that he's been with her what a month? and he's already brought her to a race when he made y/n wait months to go to a race?

user20: screams insecurity - like "look i have moved on, i'm an alpha male who can get whoever i want"

user21: i never understood why he didn't let her come to races for months when they first got together, like not even his home race?

user22: i've always got the vibe that he thought that he was better than her and that she was using him?

user23: the way if he ever posted her (which was not very often) he never tagged her

user24: which is ironic because she's one of the most celebrated models in recent history, she has millions more followers than him and has a bigger network than him, so really if anyone was using anyone it was carlos using her

user25: anyone else pulling for her to get with lando?

user26: i always thought they got on more in the videos of them all together but honestly i just want her to be happy

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 2,018,552 others

yourusername: not much going on recently

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user27: SHE'S SO HOT

user28: i need her to give me one chance please

charles_leclerc: are we still down for the road trip to lourdes?

yourusername: needed now more than ever

charles_leclerc: trust and believe

user29: charles and y/n friendship you mean so much to me

user30: need her to sit in charles' side of the garage

user31: mother went to the university of servington where she got a degree is cuntology with a minor in slaying the haus down

danielricciardo: miss ma'am, leave some for the rest of us

yourusername: why thank you good sir

danielricciardo: where do i procure a veil as such?

yourusername: i may source one for you if you promise not to shave that moustache

heidiberger: preach

user32: i bet carlos just thought everyone would just forget about y/n when he dropped her, but he forgot that she's probably more liked on the grid than he is LOL

landonorris: why are you staring into my soul like that

yourusername: why are you lurking in my comment section

landonorris: i thought we were friends :(

yourusername: always and forever

user33: but he wants it to be more

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo

user33: I SAW THAT LANDO X Y/N COMING SOON?

landonorris

liked by carlossainz55, yourusername and 803,774 others

landonorris: hostess with the most-ess?

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user34: is that a ... WOMAN?

user35: he's saying he's a host ... maybe he's hosting a friend who is a girl, it's not illegal

user36: i get your sentiment, but that photo is straight out of the soft launch girlfriend pinterest boards

user37: well now i'm picturing lando scrolling through pinterest and asking ??? to recreate the pics 😭

carlossainz55: missing my golf partner, round this weekend? ⛳️

landonorris: let me check my schedule buddy 👍

user38: okay... well someone else tell me that they can feel the vibe shift

user39: it's their first online interaction after the breakup, i think we can guess who's side lando is on

oscarpiastri: someone needs to debrief me asap

landonorris: someone forgot that he owns a phone

oscarpiastri: needed the added pressure of the public call out to make you actually do it

landonorris: fine, but you get three questions and that's it

user40: if the call out was public can't we get the public answers

yourusername: are you coming for my job?

landonorris: you saying i could model 😊

yourusername: i'm definitely saying you should let me give my agent your number

landonorris: you already have my number babe

yourusername: okay pretty boy

user41: i need this type of nepotism in my life

user42: i need the nepotism and the sexual tension cause PHEW it is through the roof

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris and 2,760,521 others

yourusername: enjoy the picture of me fucking up a pretzel

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user46: okay where are the detective freaks from f1twt?

user47: reporting for duty 🫡

user46: what car is that?

user47: it looks strikingly similar to a jolly, but i don't know if that's just my brain pushing me to make it lando. but there is a florist in monaco that wraps their flowers just like that as well ....

user46: thank you for your service

danielricciardo: this is very ballerina core 🩰

yourusername: has the old man been spending time on the internet?

danielricciardo: yes he has 😃

yourusername: omg proud

danielricciardo: no but seriously how did you do it? it looks sick

yourusername: very fiddly, needed an extra pair of hands

danielricciardo: an extra pair of hands [wiggles eyebrows]

yourusername: did you just comment your own stage directions?

danielricciardo: funny 😄

user48: okay i am glad we're not being deprived of the y/n and daniel friendship.

landonorris: i am enjoying this picture of you fucking up a pretzel

yourusername: i am a whore for carbs

landonorris: i am a whore for you

this comment was deleted

landonorris: i am also a whore for carbs (don't tell jon)

maxverstappen1: 📸📸📸 saw that mister !!

landonorris: you didn't see NOTHING

user49: we saw everything. i am so disappointed in lando, he's carlos' bestfriend and he's doing this?

liked by carlossainz55

user50: oh i know this man aint speaking

f1teaandgossip

liked by user51, user52 and 10,945 others

ftteaandgossip: carlos sainz was caught liking this tweet about his ex girlfriend y/n y/ln and his (former?) best friend lando norris. what do you think?

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user53: the audacity of men never fails to astound me

user54: you know what, i feel like a guilty man only acts this bold. so i'm saying it. i think there was overlap between his relationship with y/n and his relationship with rebecca

user55: you're right and you should say it

user56: carlos got with rebecca within a WEEK of the end of a three year relationship but is angry that she's finally moving on after months ?

user57: for real the first sight of lando and y/n was after at least two months

user58: i know people will say she's in the wrong because it is lando but honestly carlos has no leg to stand on with him parading rebecca around the paddock

user59: i really couldn't give a fuck if lando is his best buddy you act like a fool expect to get treated like a fool

user60: also the whole "whoring around the grid" is so dumb. you mean her FRIENDS? you know the friends she had to make when you would just leave her in the paddock or ignore her at parties ?

user61: babe really thought he was more loved in the paddock and expected everyone to go along with his messiness

user62: men don't talk about women this way challenge

user63: imagine talking about a girl you were with for THREE tears like this

user64: i wish lando and y/n all the best and i hope they're together for a long time, she deserves a good man after all of this

user65: i have faith 🤞

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 3,109,413 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername: sloppy seconds you say? i never come second with him. pun intended x

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user66: SERVE

user67: user67 found dead in her home, cause of death: this post

landonorris: what can i say i'm a giver 🤷‍♂️

yourusername: i'll say 😮‍💨

oscarpiastri: ENOUGH

landonorris: i thought you were happy for us oscar :(

oscarpiastri: i am !! i even took the second picture. but i think you forget that i am staying with you in monaco :/

yourusername: whoops my bad

landonorris: i swear my hospitality is usually better

yourusername: i can attest to his hospitality

oscarpiastri: STOP PLEASE STOP

user68: poor oscar being traumatised by y/n and lando 😭

carlossainz55: real mature

yourusername: how about instead of liking shady tweets and commenting on my instagram posts, you come confront me like a real fucking person.

carlossainz55: you'd love that wouldn't you

yourusername: i really would because if i said everything you needed to hear i'd be banned from this app

carlossainz55: you really are the gold digging slut my parents warned me about

landonorris: you will absolutely not talk to her that way. if you do so again we'll have a very real problem

carlossainz55: you have no sense of loyalty lando

landonorris: the call is coming from inside the house

user69: the girls are FIGHTING

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landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername and 1,866,398 others

tagged: yourusername

landonorris: nothing better than a podium at home and time with family

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user72: the sky camera shady as fuck for cutting straight to y/n in the mclaren garage when carlos crashed LOL

user73: her and lando's dad trying not to laugh had me creasing

yourusername: beyond proud of you baby

landonorris: your support means everything pretty girl

yourusername: and your family are the loveliest, tell mama i said thank you for having me (and my sandwiches for the plane)

landonorris: she say's thank you and come back soon (i also want you to come home asap)

user74: he already refers to his house at their home

user75: and y/n has been accepted by the family - the sainzs could take notes

oscarpiastri: oscar piastri erasure

yourusername: sorry osc, you're our favourite pookie on the grid

landonorris: also mama made you sandwiches too

oscarpiastri: i know they were very yummy 😋

danielricciardo: HOLD ON, oscar is your favourite pookie, where am i ???

maxverstappen1: i think you'll find i am their favourite full stop

charles_leclerc: nuh uh it's clearly me

yourusername: i'll just say lando is my favourite

landonorris: and i'll say y/n is my favourite

yourusername: and that's that

danielricciardo: boooooooo.

maxverstappen1: cop out :(

charles_leclerc: 🍅🍅🍅

user76: i am so confused right now

yourusername

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tagged: landonorris

yourusername: you are in love, true love.

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user77: omg the letters? i swear there were letters in her first post after carlos took rebecca to the first race of the season

user78: wait so do you think they were from lando the whole time?

yourusername: yes they are from lando ! after the carlos stuff had somewhat died down he had them all delivered to me and it definitely swayed me for a first date

user79: but i thought some of those letters looked pretty old

landonorris: i won't deny that i liked y/n for a long time but i obviously couldn't express that so i put them in letters. an idiot was an idiot and i'll never not take my chance

user80: okay that makes this whole thing so much cuter

user81: y/n is the definition of never letting your boyfriend stop you from finding your husband

landonorris: you're my best friend and i love you so much

yourusername: i'd go through all this mess and all this heartbreak again if it meant i still end up with you

landonorris: but i'm by your side forever now you can't get rid of me

yourusername: i wouldn't dream of it

user82: lord i have seen it all, please bless me with a relationship like this

danielricciardo: god you people are ridiculously cute

oscarpiastri: just think yourself lucky that you no longer share a garage with them

landonorris: we're not THAT bad

oscarpiastri: i have working ears

yourusername: sorry not sorry osc x

fin.

note: hope you all enjoyed. i am dying trying to do 75 soft but i also signed up for burlesque class !!

[adieutristana]

hii! could i request the arcane women comforting reader on her period?

of course! thank you for the request <3

b2b by charli xcx on repeat yuuuup

summary; headcanons of the arcane women comforting their girlfriend on her period.

characters included; jinx, vi, mel, sevika, caitlyn, maddie

tags/warnings; menstruation, fluff, comfort, suggestive (jinx's section), reader has hell periods, mentions of poor mental health, can't think of anything else honestly

minors and men dni.

jinx;

✧.* idk why, but i headcanon that jinx is one of those super lucky girls who has really light 3-4 day long periods. basically nothing at all.

✧.* so when you told her that your periods were long, and heavy, and painful, she was honestly taken aback. jinx was a bit puzzled as to how that's possible.

✧.* "but mine aren't that bad! are you suuure?"

✧.* she doesn't mean anything by it, she's just genuinely perplexed. sometimes it's difficult for jinx to put these kinds of things into perspective. however, the second she sees you doubled over in pain, clutching your stomach and whimpering in pain, her instincts kick in and she's rushing to your side.

✧.* "oh- oh, toots, are you okay?! what happened? why d'ya look so hurt?" she'd ask, crouching down next to you with panic evident in her voice.

✧.* "just... on my period," you'd strain. "nothing out of the ordinary. don't worry about me."

✧.* jinx absolutely will worry about you, though. she's by your side, asking you what you need. since her own periods are so mild, she doesn't know exactly where to start with this sort of thing. but she's doing her best.

✧.* she'll research! she finds out all about the cravings, mood swings, pains, and how to soothe all of those things. she nerds out when she gets to research anyways, but she'll go above and beyond to make sure her girl is comfortable and happy. as much as you can be during shark week, anyways.

✧.* the same day she finds you in pain, she's swiping things from shelves of pharmacies and convenience stores like no tomorrow. pain medicine, water bottles that she plans to heat up, chocolates, tubs of ice cream, blankets, lots of sanitary products. hell, she'll even burn a few dvds so the two of you can have movie nights. jinx doesn't do anything halfway, especially not something like this.

✧.* even more clingy than normal somehow. i imagine jinx runs pretty cold, but also has a lot of natural body heat, if that makes sense? she uses the guise of being your 'built-in heating pad,' though anyone can tell she just wants to be close to you and comfort you. she'll have both her arms and legs wrapped around you, nuzzling her face into the crook of your neck and peppering kisses along the soft skin.

✧.* "mm.. don't mind me, sugar. just wanna be here for 'ya, help you feel better 'n all that."

✧.* she's got such a sweet tooth, jinx might swipe a few of the snacks she stole for you while you're not looking... sorry. she can't help herself

✧.* will try to distract you to the best of her ability. movie nights as i said, as well as taking you around the streets of zaun (when you can manage to stand upright), gaming with you and purposely letting you win just so she can see your smile and hear your laugh.

✧.* along with the extra clingy thing, jinx will not let you out of your sight until she's absolutely sure that you're off your period. it's not that she doesn't think you can handle yourself, but she just worries so much. part of her knows it's irrational, but seeing you in so much pain eats at her inside, makes her afraid that she's going to lose you. even though it's just a natural part of your cycle

✧.* she's also read that other kinds of relief can be especially helpful for cramps, so you know jinx will be offering that to you if you know what i mean.

vi;

✧.* oh she's right there with you.

✧.* has the worst fucking periods known to man. it's like she's completely MIA as soon as it hits every month, she's just dead to the world. trust me, she understands.

✧.* which means that she can help you that much better! she knows firsthand what it's like and what works for her, but she also knows that it's not a one-size-fits-all situation. it'll take a bit of time, but vi knows what she's doing.

✧.* she's already got a stash of things lined up for you in her bathroom the day after you tell her you've gotten your period. panty liners, pads, tampons of different sizes. she doesn't even bother asking what you prefer to use, she just wants you to have the options depending on what you need at what time. only the best for her girl

✧.* fridge, freezer and cupboards are also full to the brim of your favorite snacks, the best medications. candies, chocolates, baked goods, ice cream, pain relief... all the good stuff.

✧.* don't even bother asking where she got all this stuff and how she could afford it, just let vi take care of you.

✧.* "shh, cupcake. that's for me to worry about. you sit your pretty self down and let me do all the hard work, 'kay?"

✧.* has heated blankets and water bottles ready for you at all times! the second she hears the slightest whimper of pain from you she's got the water bottle in her hand, instructing you to lean back so she can put it against your lower abdomen. she'll stay with you to make sure you're okay. she needs that reassurance both for you and herself.

✧.* vi is the type of lover who can't rest until she knows for sure that you're okay, regardless of how much you tell her that you're alright.

✧.* "i'm fine, baby. really, you don't need to worry about me." you'd say, though the way your face contorted in discomfort betrayed your words. "are you sure? you can't fool me, pretty. i know you're hurting. just let me help you. that's what i'm here for."

✧.* she also knows that insomnia comes with menstruation at times, so she'll make sure you sleep in her bed until you're off your period. holding you close, rubbing soothing circles over your back and stomach to help relieve some of the pain for you. don't worry about clinging to her, don't worry about how long it takes you to fall asleep or even the possibility of bleeding onto her sheets. vi just wants to make you feel comfortable, she'll take care of everything later.

✧.* doesn't let you do a damn thing for yourself. she almost treats you as if you're made of glass. it's not that thinks you're helpless, vi knows damn well just how fierce and independent you are. but she also enjoys taking care of you and knowing she's making your life easier.

✧.* "i'm on my period, not helpless." you'd protest, crossing your arms over your chest with a light pout. vi would chuckle to herself, playfully pinching one of your cheeks. "i know, i know. but i just wanna do this for you, okay? let me take care of you."

mel;

✧.* mel probably knows your cycle by heart after a certain amount of time being with you. not in a creepy way, but she's just that connected and attuned to you.

✧.* she'll come to you a few days before she knows you're due for your period, concern evident in her tone. "are you starting to cramp at all, dear?" she'd ask, or something along the lines of, "i know you're due soon. no discomfort? any cravings? you can tell me these things, darling."

✧.* she has a constant stash of things and she knows your preferences when it comes to hygiene products, snacks, medicine, all of your favorite comforts. she truly knows you like the back of your hand.

✧.* she'll be taking off work for you as well, as much as you protest and assure her that you're okay. realistically, mel knows sure and well that you're okay. but she still wants that time to be with you and make sure that you're comfortable and you're in as little pain as possible. it's more for her own peace of mind.

✧.* her own are honestly pretty moderate, not too bad but not exactly pleasant either. though again, she's attuned to your own senses and knows exactly what you need.

✧.* mel will be basically attached to you by the hip. she doesn't let you out of her sight for a second out of pure worry for you and your well-being. seeing you nauseous, craving the most odd foods, doubled over in pain, it hurts your girlfriend to even think about. she knows she can't outright prevent all of that, but it'll ease her mind to be there by your side.

✧.* mel doesn't insist that you take it easy, she knows that life goes on despite everything. she doesn't want to hover over you too much, but again, she'll be by your side. helping you run errands, walking you to and from work, watching from the sidelines as you do those little things that make you happy. painting, reading, writing... any of it.

✧.* it's a well-known fact that she loves to spoil you, so if you mention wanting anything at all, she won't even go out and buy it for you. she'll take you to the store with her and tell you to just buy whatever you'd like. no limits.

✧.* "anything at all, beautiful. let me treat you." "but mel, this is-" she'd shush you lightly, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "too much? nonsense. i can handle it, you just tell me what you need. it pains me to see you so uncomfortable, regardless of how natural it is."

✧.* holding onto you so tightly, and you just know mel would give the best massages. literally anywhere that's sore, she'll massage for you with such love and care. her fingertips are a bit calloused and rough, but always so soft with you.

✧.* also runs you warm baths and even tosses in salts and flowers! they help her a lot when she's having period-related pains, so she hopes they'll have the same effect on you. she's happy to leave you to yourself, or sit near the edge of the tub and just talk to you. whatever would make you the most comfortable and happy.

sevika;

✧.* she's also got pretty mild periods, but she is very attuned to you and your senses. sevika can't exactly feel your pain and discomfort, though she knows how to ease it.

✧.* trust me when i say that she's got a good supply of things for you. all the sanitary products you could need, extra-strength pain medications, heated blankets, heat pads, snacks, the whole nine yards. uncomfortable and hurting? not on sevika's watch.

✧.* "just tell me what ya need, darlin'. you know i'll get it." she'd say, spooning you tightly while one hand rests over your lower stomach. you'd mumble light protests, but she wouldn't have it. "i know you're okay, babe. you tell me that enough. but i still wanna help, okay?"

✧.* so touchy and so clingy. sevika doesn't want to let go of you for a second, not if she can help it. whether that be holding you from behind while you move about the kitchen cooking, holding you close to her in bed, keeping an arm around your waist as you saunter around the lanes together, or brushing her lips against your forehead, she relishes that contact. especially when you're vulnerable like this.

✧.* she still has things to do. unfortunately, sevika's job isn't really one that she can take time off from, as much as she'd like to. but the second she gets off work, she's back home, by your side. your girlfriend is so loyal, so doting when it comes to you. a side of the usually gruff woman that's reserved exclusively for you.

✧.* she also won't hinder you from doing anything for yourself, the last thing she needs is for you to feel both excruciating pain and helplessness at the same time. however, sevika makes it clear that she's happy to take over whatever task you need if it gets to be too much.

✧.* you could be in the middle of a task when a cramp suddenly hits you, making you nearly fold in half and clutch at your stomach. "hey, what's wrong?" sevika would ask, cold metal against your shoulder. "cramps? come on, i'll take it from here. you go lay down."

✧.* do not worry about needing to ask for help with sevika. ever. she's more than happy to provide it for you, don't worry about asking for 'too much' or being 'too demanding.' you're her girlfriend, and you're on your period. there's no such thing as either of those with her.

✧.* "come on. you know whatever it is, i'll do it for you. so tell me," she'd pause, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow in that way she typically does, "what do you need, dove?"

✧.* also super attentive during sleep, would probably stay up just so that she can make sure you're okay and sleeping through the night. sevika is used to running on little to no sleep, thank her line of work. she'll try to keep it quiet, not let you know that she's observing, but she just worries. she wants to make sure you aren't suffering any bouts of insomnia. that, and seeing your peaceful expression during slumber is a plus.

caitlyn;

✧.* caitlyn gets it, she really does. one of piltover's strongest enforcers and officials, but struck down once a month by menstruation. something had to take her down a notch.

✧.* she knows exactly what'll help her, and she hopes it'll help you too. though she gives you options, since she knows you probably won't have all the same preferences as her when it comes to sanitary products, snacks, care, etc. cait will take her time so that she gets your routine down pat, before she eventually just has everything stocked in her home for when the time inevitably comes every month.

✧.* caitlyn is constantly checking in on you. she’ll ask you about every little thing, making sure that you’re not straining too hard, not in too much pain. you could be sitting on your bed, folding towels, and caitlyn would ask something like, “are you sure that’s not too much right now? if your back or stomach is hurting, i can take over.”

✧.* she’ll want to keep you at home with her on the days that are the hardest on you. the days where you’re groaning in pain, you can barely think straight from just how uncomfortable you are. when you’re an emotional mess from the mood swings and crying over a puppy you saw on the street. she wants to be there to comfort you and help you get back on your feet.

✧.* “shh… love, it’s fine. i know, that puppy was adorable.” you’d sniffle, looking up at her with pleading eyes. “can we get one, cait? please?” she’d chuckle quietly, letting out a heavy sigh. “maybe when i don’t have so much on my plate.”

✧.* she's on top of your every need. in pain? here's a bottle of painkillers. cravings? she's already got whatever you need. in the case that she doesn't, caitlyn is in the kitchen making something for you herself. she'll be damned if she lets her girlfriend go unsatisfied, especially on her period.

✧.* she'd be so doting especially when it comes to the pain, caitlyn wants to just hold you until all of the cramps are gone. realistically, she knows there's not much she can do besides offer a few over-the-counter methods. she's gonna have to wait until they run their course, but it doesn't make her want to cling to you any less. she wishes she could hold you and you'd feel the rest of the world melt away

✧.* "fuck, cait, it hurts," you'd whimper, clinging tight to the girl with your brows knitted together. she'd softly hush you, her one hand slipping under the fabric of your top to run soothing circles over your lower back. "i know, darling. i'm here, it'll be alright."

✧.* cait would run you warm baths as well, she's at your side the entire times. she'll throw in flower petals and salts, maybe even a bath bomb if it'll make you happy. not only will it help ease the pain, but making you feel cared for in this time is of the upmost importance to her. yes, you feel gross, but you don't have to! look at the nice bath she drew you! she'll even help wash you off if you need it, or she's happy to just stay by your side and talk to you as you soak.

maddie;

✧.* maddie's own are pretty moderate, but she has a cut-and-dry routine she's stuck to as a teenager. works like a charm every time her period rolls around, so she hopes those methods will work for you. though, if they don't, maddie will immediately stop and regroup.

✧.* maddie i don't think would be super in tune with everything.. i apologize. she'll connect the dots after she sees you hunched over in pain or with a bottle of painkillers in one hand and a tub of ice cream in the other, but she won't be able to pick up on it right away like some others might.

✧.* but that doesn't make her any less good at comforting you, let's make that abundantly clear. as soon as she catches onto what's happening, she's basically waiting on you hand and foot. maddie is devoted!

✧.* now of course, she's a junior officer. maddie can't be by your side as often as she'd like to, unfortunately. she likes her job, but sometimes she curses it for holding her back from her girlfriend in times of need.

✧.* so she second she's allowed off the job, she's swinging the door open with a bag full of snacks to make her presence known. "i'm home, darlin'! where are ya?" she'd announce, glancing around the empty space before her eyes land on you. "oh, there you are. here, i brought these back! sorry, i know i was gone for a while, but i'm here now, yeah?"

✧.* however, you'll have to ask for a lot of what you need. maddie knows that you're independent and capable of helping yourself, so she doesn't want to assume unless she knows for sure that you're incapable of it because of pain or discomfort. that's one of the things she doesn't really budge on. if you're able to voice what's bothering you, she'll be more than happy to be of help!

✧.* also really, really good at distracting you. she'll put on movies, plug in cassettes of your favorite albums, talk to you for hours on end about nothing and everything simultaneously. maddie figures that if she can take your mind off of it, that's better than just waiting out the discomfort.

✧.* she kinda sucks at cooking. sorry.. but! she'd still make sure any cravings of yours are filled. freezer is packed to the brim with ice cream, and she's got lots of sugary treats for you in her cupboards. i also would imagine she lives basically smack in the middle of piltover, next to a lot of vendors and convenience stores. so on the off-chance she doesn't have something you need, she's already on her way to grab it for you.

✧.* "i'll be right back, okay? just running around the corner. rest assured."

✧.* also so cuddly especially when it comes to being in bed with you. she's already clingy, but you might have to pry her off of you when you're on your period. she hopes you wouldn't want to, though, not when she's got her legs wrapped around your waist and her head nestled into the warmth of your neck.

[rjreins]

ATTENTION TO ALL THE LADS FIC WRITERS!! I got a fic idea, and idk how to fully write this...SO HERE'S WHAT I RANDOMLY CAME UP WITH !!

childhood bestfriend!ex!caleb x non-mc!reader

you and caleb were both invited to mc's wedding. at first, you were adamant about not attending because you already knew that caleb was going to be there.

given with the history you had with the man, who wouldn't be hesitant? the break up was a year ago. no biggie! I mean, how crazy would it be if you were to be mc's maid of honor and him the groom's best man?

well jokes on you, you had no choice but to attend.

with the phone on your hands, you were already typing away, preparing a long message to send mc. making an excuse on how you're not going to be able to make it.

but this is your childhood friend! you have to be there for her!

so you let it go and accept the invite.

so months before the wedding, mc tags you along with her in trying on the wedding dresses. you know, maid of honor duties.

when mc finally picked out a dress for her, she keeps on insisting for you to try and wear one since she says, "come on, we've got time to spare! maybe you'll find a dress you'd like for your own wedding!"

as if, you thought.

it was a few minutes of a back and forth banter before you finally give in to her wishes.

now in the dressing room, all dressed in white, you find yourself admiring the woman in the mirror.

thoughts of what could've been suddenly flash in your mind. the dress was really pretty, it complimented you so well. your fingers linger on the lace—treading on the details of the dress. it hugged your body so nicely. it would be a shame if you didn't walk with a beautiful dress like this down the aisle.

yeah...this was a bad idea. just a silly little fantasy you would never have since the only person you'd only want to wait for you in front of the altar had done and broke your fragile heart into two.

you shrugged your head, and just as you were about to take it off, the sound of the dressing room curtain opening halts your movements.

right then and there, standing before you was the one and only love of your life and the main reason for your heartbreak, the cause of one-too-many miserable drunken nights.

the room was quiet. both people just staring at each other in complete silence along with the heavy tension lingering in the air.

it took a few seconds before caleb cleared his throat. while it definitely broke your stare-off, you didn't fail to notice that he was also dressed, wearing a best man attire.

"oh, um... sorry. I thought this was where mc was..." he trailed off, looking at anywhere but you.

you then come to your senses, realizing you were wearing a wedding dress in front of your ex. "it's fine! she's just right in the next dressing room." you say as you composed yourself.

"thank you." caleb says, turning around to leave. before he fully steps outside, he looks back at you, and your breath hitches.

"y/n?"

you bravely look at his eyes and take a quick opportunity of the moment to shamelessly admire him. at some point, the air in your lungs leaves you breathless. he looks so handsome in his suit, but you can't bring yourself to say it out loud.

and you must've been staring too long to not notice that caleb was already taking steps towards you.

you don't move. your body freezes as caleb raises his hand to caress your cheek. and if you were breathless awhile ago, you might just be as good as dead right now.

it was all too much, the close proximity, the unspoken desire, and the talk you both desperately needed to clear any misunderstandings that happened in the past.

as you opened your mouth to speak, caleb gulps and says, "you look just as beautiful as the day I lost you."

note: I know it's corny! but I had to get this off my mind or else the idea would just be a forgotten one. if anyone wants this idea or wants to write a fic with it... feel free to use it and tag me, please !! love everyone in this community. you guys do not disappoint !!

[mizxeclipze]

Bad idea

dbf!joel x f!reader.

dividers by @saradika-graphics

main masterlist

summary: teasing joel while on a road trip to houston for a concert was a bad idea. especially with your father tagging along. 3.9k words.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, age gap (23/40), smut, unprotected piv, fingering, dirty talk??, shit load of pet names, banter??, gas stations, no use of y/n, cursing, readers father is oblivious ofc, not beta read we die like losers, uhh idk what else so if i missed anything lmk !!

a/n: omfg this took way longer to write than i'd hoped for but it's here !! it's not the best and it's truthfully my first fic i've completed, written, and posted so if it's horrible that's why. that and i've also never written smut before so this was definitely a learning experience, hopefully as time goes on i'll get better at it but for now it's fuck it we ball, live and learn, anyways enjoy this and also happy birthday to joel miller the loml <3

The tree leaves dance in the wind, a few cars crushing the ones that have fallen and blown into the street leaving only tiny pieces to scatter in the air. It's only the middle of August but the leaves have already started to change colors and fall. at least it's still warm out.

You've watched at least four cars pass since the time Joel was supposed to show up, your dad planned some overnight trip to a concert in Houston. You're all supposed to ride in Joel's truck – he'd offered to be the one to drive there and back – but he still isn't here.

Be nice if it was just you and Joel. It would be like a date, the two of you alone together, spending the day together and having the hotel room all to yourselves for the night.

But that could never happen.

You can hear him from where you're sitting on the porch. your dad. He's been on the phone for the past hour arguing with whoever, he'd gotten loud enough you'd sought reprieve outside, it's proven useless.

You're thankful when you spot the familiar black truck pull up along the sidewalk, you stand from the steps and make your way over to him as he steps out of the truck. “You're late,” you say.

Joel grabs up your bag, tossing it into the bed of the truck. You're not entirely sure how safe that is but you don't bring it up yet.

“Sorry baby, lost track of time and got stuck in traffic.” When he turns to you he leaves one hand on the bed and the other on his hip, you watch the way his hands flex, like he wants nothing more than to wrap you up in his arms and kiss you.

But your dad could walk out the door any second, so he doesn't.

You nod, giving a slight raise of your eyebrows. “Traffic,” is all you say.

“What?” He cocks his head, raising his own eyebrows questioningly.

“Nothing,” you mutter when you hear the screen door open and your dad's voice travels through the air.

“We ready?” he tosses his own bag in the bed, eyeing you two curiously. You both nod in confirmation. “Alright then, let's go.” He rounds the truck, hopping in the passenger's side.

You look at Joel who gives you an apologetic look as he opens the door behind the driver.

This is going to be a long trip.

Joel was right about the traffic, you spend thirty minutes waiting for it to move along the highway. You'd understood the plan of it being an overnight trip but at this rate it might as well be a two day trip.

“God damn, the hell’s takin’ so long?” You hear your dad say, finally breaking the silence that filled the car. “might have to stay longer at this rate, if we even make it,” he mutters.

“‘S why we left so early,” Joel says, there's a hint of agitation laced in his voice, no doubt from the traffic.

You feel the need to make it worse, poke the bear if you will.

“You were late,” you mumble, but you can tell he heard you from the glare you receive through the mirror.

The concert doesn't start till seven, you'd left early – far too early if you're being honest – enough so there was time to get ready, you aren't too sure how that will plan out now from the traffic but Houston isn't very far now.

You honestly wish it was just you and Joel. The car ride so far has been pretty boring, if it was just the two of you the ride wouldn't be so dull. Instead you've listened to your dad talk about sports and work while Joel nodded along, occasionally replying with a sentence or two.

You'd be lying if you said it didn't bother you that all of Joel's attention was elsewhere. But you'd also be lying if you weren't about to make his life impossible.

Because that's exactly what you do.

It's honestly not a good idea, it's risky, but you're beyond caring at this point.

You reach over for your bag, grabbing out a few snack foods you'd packed earlier. You opt out of the chips, they're probably not the most sultry thing you could eat, instead you reach for the cream puff you'd bought a few days ago and forgot about.

You'd packed it for that reason, but now it has a new purpose.

The sound of the wrapping catches the two men's attention, your dad turns in his seat to see what the noise was when he spots the pastry between your hands. “Be careful with that, don't go makin’ a mess in Joel's truck,” he says, scolds almost.

You roll your eyes slightly. “I won't,” your eyes meet Joel's in the mirror, you smile at him as you take a bite of the puff.

His eyes track you, occasionally flitting back to the road. You can tell he's trying to figure out your game, not that it's too complicated to figure out.

You pull the pastry from your mouth, your other hand coming down to cup under your chin slightly. Joel's eyes are like daggers on you as he watches you, you can see the moment he spots the cream on your lips – you spotted it too.

Your tongue darts out slowly to lick at your lips, cleaning the mess left behind running your thumb along your bottom lip for extra measure. Joel stiffens in his seat, his hand tightening on the steering wheel, his jaw ticking to the side as he watches your little performance.

You smile innocently, but you both know what you're doing.

“Light’s green bud,” your dad's voice booms, breaking Joel from his trance as his eyes move from the mirror back to the road.

You’ve stopped for gas twice now, the first time was before you’d left because Joel forgot to fill his truck up the night before. You’d be worried about not making it on time but you’ve made pretty decent time.

You’re about half way when Joel pulls into a gas station, pulling up to a pump and shutting off the car. The sound of the passenger door opening catches Joel's attention. “We all goin’?” he asks, looking back at your dad who’s already out of the car.

“Yeah, figured we could stretch our legs and all that,” your dad says, emphasizing his statement by stretching out his body.

You’re wondering about the candy section when your dad finds you. “Hey, Joel's outside filling the truck, you almost done?”

You scan the aisle one more time, snatching up a lollipop as you nod. “Yep, now I am,” you say, following him to the counter.

You swear the line takes forever, you don’t think you’ve ever seen a gas station so busy before, you stand next to your dad as he checks out, your eyes wander out one of the windows, you spot Joel almost immediately. His broad shoulders squared as he stands next to the pump.

You feel a tap on your shoulder, turning to see your dad gesturing towards the door. You follow him out, unwrapping the lollipop as you both make your way back to the truck. “Shit,” your dad mutters, ruffling through the plastic bag. “I'll be right back, forgot something.”

You nod, leaning against the side of the truck, watching as your dad jogs back into the store leaving you and Joel to finish filling the tank.

Your eyes catch Joel's, he’s standing at the bed of the truck his arms crossed along his chest, you watch the way his shirt stretches along with it.

You can tell he’s caught onto your game, has for a while now if the way the muscle in his jaw jumps says anything.

“The hell you doin’?”

You smile, pulling the sucker from your mouth with a pop. “What do you mean?”

Joel shakes his head, grabbing the pump and putting it back freeing up his pathway as he steps closer to you. “Don’t give me that, you know what I'm talking about,” he says, crowding your space slighting.

You look up at him through your lashes, doing your best to keep your expression unreadable. “You’re going to have to be specific joel,”

His jaw ticks to the side, scanning the area quickly before gripping your chin between his fingers, tilting your face upwards more as he leans in. “Your little stunt in the car with the cream puff, tryna get me hot and bothered, hm?” He whispers, his tone dropping an octave sending shivers down your back.

This is the closest he’s been in hours and he still isn’t close enough.

“Wanna get us caught, hm? Is that it?” His hand slides to the base of your throat, “let your daddy find out i’m fucking his daughter?”

You part your lips, his eyes drop at the movement, you want nothing more than for him to kiss you right now to run your hands through his hair while he all but devours you. He’s thinking the same, the way his hand tightens ever so slightly around your neck as his eyes flit between your lips and your eyes.

“Joel,” you breathe, you’re not sure what you’re trying to ask but you never get a chance before the sound of your dad’s voice causes you both to spring apart.

“Are we ready?” your dad asks, tossing his things in the car and looking at you both.

“Yep,” Joel clears his throat, running a hand across his face before getting in the truck.

Your legs are practically screaming at you, sitting in the back of a pickup for hours and then climbing a set of stairs is leaving your calves burning in the worst way.

You’d finally made it to the motel you’d be staying at for the night with plenty of time to spare thankfully. When you walk into the room you’re immediately met with the ac, it’s a relief on your skin from the hot air outside.

The room’s what you’d expect a motel room to be, two double beds spaced apart with two dark night stands next to them. They’re neatly made, meaning it’ll be a battle to get into. You venture further in the room, passing by the bathroom and heading towards another door within the room.

When you open the door you’re met with another room, it’s slightly smaller with no other way out of it than the main door, there’s a single double bed in the center of the room that’s made up the same way as the other two.

Conjoined rooms. It makes sense, you toss your things on the bed closing the door. You rummage around in your bag looking for the dress you’d packed, you didn’t pack a whole lot given that you weren’t staying for very long but now as you’re searching for something to wear it feels like you did.

You end up dumping the bag, your pajamas and make up layed out on the bed as you flatten out the wrinkles of your dress, it wasn’t anything too extravagant just a simple dress that fell just above your knees.

You’re just about to put your hair up to do your makeup when the door opens, you turn to see Joell standing in the doorway, his broad frame practically taking up the entire space. He’s dressed in the same clothes he’d shown up this morning in, — save for the flannel he’d stripped himself of — a dark blue shirt that hugs his arms paired with dark washed jeans.

He stands leaning against the frame in silence as  his eyes rack up your body taking you in. “Y’look pretty,” he says, finally pushing off the frame taking slow deliberate steps towards you.

You watch his movements stood in the middle of the room, your heart rate picks up heat pooling in the bottom of your stomach from the way he’s looking at you. The atmosphere in the room is thick with need, you have half a mind to ask where your dad is.

“Oh, now you’re worried ‘bout your dad?” your eyes widen, you hadn’t thought you’d said that aloud. Joel crowds your space, his hand coming up to cup your face, his thumb under your chin as he tilts your head slightly.

“He left to get food, won’t be back for a little while,”

“It’s just us then?”

“Mhm,” 

You all but drag him down to your lips, your hands locked together around the back of his neck. Joel stumbles at your eagerness catching himself before he can fall, his hands falling to your waist bunching up your dress as he squeezes your sides.

You gasp softly when Joel pulls you closer, the prominent bulge of his cock digging into your hip, you grind your hips upwards seeking some sort of friction for the ache already forming between your legs.

Joel pulls away, you whine at the loss. “Should finish gettin’ ready sweetheart,” he mumbles, putting distance between you, his hands still firmly in place at your waist.

He’s teasing you now, getting you back for the car ride. But you’ve lost the patience to be teased right now, your core practically throbbing already and Joel is looking at you with a smug smirk well aware of the state you’re in.

“Joel,” you whine out, trying uselessly to pull him back towards you.

He raises his brows, keeping his distance. “Yes babygirl?” He says, rubbing circles along your sides.

“Please,” 

“Please what, darlin’?”

You groan in annoyance, if you weren’t so worked up you’d strangle him for making you beg, but you are. “Please, fuck me,”

Joel hums, looking up as if he’s contemplating, you’re certainly starting to reconsider strangling him. “Dunno know baby, might just make you wait til we get home,”

You could honestly start screaming, you’re running out of time and he’s just messing with you. You look up at him, his eyes already on you an almost amused look on his face.

You lay your hands on his shoulders as you plead. “Please. I’ll do anything just, please,”

“Yeah?” He steps closer, leading you backwards towards the bed, you nod slowly carefully walking til the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed.

Joel lays you back, pushing whatever's on the bed to the floor as he follows you down, he nudges your legs apart so he can nestle himself between them. You wrap your hands around his neck again, pulling him down once more to your lips.

His mouth slots over yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth. Your body is on fire as his hands wander, sliding lower to where you need him most.

You moan into Joel's mouth, your hips grinding upwards as one of his hands slip under the hem of your dress finding your clit through the fabric of your underwear, damp from the slick leaking from your core.

He rubs gentle circles against your clit, kissing his way down your neck. You run your hands through his hair gripping the strands as you gasp and moan.

Joel pulls his hand away from your core, you whine at the loss, he pulls away from you, his hands sliding up your legs. His fingers slip under your waistband, pulling your underwear down off your legs and stuffing them in his pocket.

“Joel,” you squirm under him, his eyes flick back up to yours, he watches you, his eyes never leaving yours as his hand slides back up your leg spreading them so he can nestle between them again.

“I know,” he rasps, two of his fingers running through your arousal, collecting the slick before sliding the two digits past your entrance slowly, your head falling back against the pillows as you moan softly.

He thrusts his fingers, a slow back and forth rhythm, curling them upward on every inward thrust. Your hips rock up encouraging him to move faster, every inward thrust paired with the rock your hips has Joel hitting the spongy spot inside you that has you seeing stars.

His thumb finds your clit rubbing circles on the bud, your hands seek purchase on his shoulders, rumpling his shirt as you ball your fists. “This what you wanted, baby?” He taunts, pulling his fingers almost completely out then thrusting them back in.

You nod, your voice lost to the moans and gasps. “Could've asked ‘stead of teasin’ me all day,” Joel drawls, his voice thick with lust, his hips slowly rutting into the mattress.

“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” You finally breathe out.

You hear Joel grumble something under his breath, you don’t catch what before he’s back to thrusting his fingers at a fast pace, his hips grinding down matching the rhythm of his fingers.

You can feel yourself teetering on the edge, the warmth building at the bottom of your stomach. Joel can sense it too, his fingers working more determinedly, his thumb applying more pressure on your clit as he works to push you over the edge. “You gonna cum?” He drawls in your ear lowly, placing delicate kisses below your ear.

A soft moan elicits itself from your throat, nodding your head quickly, your toes curling up as your orgasm approaches. “Words darlin’,” he nips at your earlobe.

“y– ha – yes,”

“That's it babygirl, let go,” he coo’s gently, encouraging you, and you do. You grip Joel's arms, tossing your head back, your mouth agape, a chain of moans escaping. Your walls clench around his fingers, your body shuddering under the weight of your orgasm.

“There you go, good girl,” Joel praises softly, slowing his fingers as you come down from your high. He watches the way your chest rises and falls rapidly, your body relaxing into the bed. You haven’t fully come down from your high before beginning to fumble with the button of his jeans, Joel's hand lays over yours stopping your movements. “Woah, slow down darlin’,” he chuckles.

You groan in frustration, throwing your head back against the pillows once more. “Joel.” you grumble.

“Ask nicely,” he says, raising an eyebrow.

You groan again looking up at him again. “Please,” 

He pulls your hand away, carefully pinning it above your head as he deftly works open the button of his pants, swiftly pushing them past his hips along with his underwear. You can tell he’s running out of patience — and time — to keep teasing you from the way he all but hurriedly frees his aching cock.

You watch as he strokes himself, a careful back and forth motion, his brows furrowed in pleasure. He nudges your legs further apart nestling his hips between your thighs, you wrap your legs around him pulling him closer to you. The head of his cock nudges against your clit eliciting a gasp.

“Fuck,” Joel breathes, closing his eyes tightly, his teeth grinding together slightly.

He lets out a breath, composing himself, he wraps his hand around the base of his cock, sliding the tip along your folds and through arousal using it to slick himself up. Holding your breath everytime the tip catches your clit.

He does that a few more times, his cock only catching your entrance before pulling away. “Just, fuck me,” you huff irritatedly.

“Bein’ a real brat, y’know that?” Joel grumbles, lining his cock up with your entrance. “Should leave you like this, let you go to the concert soakin’,” he never gives you the chance to say anything before he’s pushing his hips forward, stretching you open.

You moan out your legs tightening around his hips, he sets a brutal rhythm, his hips snapping upwards, the head of his cock pushing further on every thrust.

Your hands find their way to Joel’s hair, pulling the strands as you toss your head back in pleasure, your eyes rolling backwards. Joel groans, his head falling on your chest, his hot breath ghosting the skin there.

The room was filled with both of your breaths, soft moans mixing with heavy groans as Joel fucked into your heat. His hand slides down your side, his thumb finding your clit once more drawing tight circles, your moans growing in pitch. Joel slots his mouth over yours, muffling your moans slightly in a heated kiss, your teeth clashing together.

“Be. Quiet.” He manages to gasp out between kisses. You mumble out what sounds like an affirmative, he moves down your neck leaving open mouthed kisses along the skin there, his teeth lightly nipping there. But he knows better than to leave any marks.

His hips continue to ground into you, his cock pushing further and further, his tip grazing against the spot inside you that leaves you breathless. “Yeah? Right there?” He quirks an eyebrow, watching as you bite your lower lip in an effort to muffle your moans.

You nod your head, unable to form any words, your walls tighten around him, you can feel yourself getting closer. His pace quickens, his hips pounding into you faster working vigorously to get you there before him. “Go on baby, le — fuck — let go,” he stutters, his hips faltering slightly.

Your legs tighten around his hips as your orgasm gets closer, the feel of his cock pushing you over the edge. Your walls clamp down, your legs practically going numb as your eyes rolling as pleasure washed over you. Joel’s movements slow as you come around him. “That’s it babygirl, there you go. Cum around me, good girl,” he soothes, a desperate moan escaping.

When you finally come down from your high Joel’s movements pick up speed again, working desperately to push himself over the edge he’d been teetering on for a while now.

You run your hands through his hair, pulling him closer, trailing kisses up his neck and below his ear, lightly biting the lobe as his hips begin to stutter. “Fuck darilin’, so fuckin’ pretty it hurts,” he rambles, his head falling to your shoulder.

He groans, his hips stopping as he cums, his warm load coating the inside of your walls. His body slackens slightly, careful not to put his weight on you. For a while the only sound filling the room is that of both your breaths.

After a few more bouts of silence Joel finally speaks up. “Should get cleaned up and finish gettin’ ready,” he says, groaning as he slowly pulls out, carefully tucking himself away before extracting himself from the bed. “C’mon,” he pats your leg, moving towards the door.

You sit up on your elbows, watching him from the bed. “What about my underwear?” You ask, Joel turns to face you from the doorway.

“What about them?” He doesn’t say anything else, never gives you the chance to say anything either before he’s out the door a smug smirk plastered across his face.

You stare out the door at a loss, eventually falling back against the bed, you know you should get up and finish getting ready before your dad gets back, but if you’re being honest you don’t think you could get up right now.

Instead you lay there staring at the ceiling, a ridiculous grin spread across your face. Teasing Joel with your dad around may have been a bad idea, but you’d do it again if it got you here.

[wonysugar]

working in retail 101 | ahn yujin

synopsis : what happens when a floor manager flirts with a floor clerk during an accidental, overnight lock-in inside the store? well, not anything professional, that’s for sure.

pairing : clerk!gpyujin x floormanager!femreader

genre : smut, kinda fluff towards the end too? coworkers trope, kinnndaaa boss x employee?? idk but THEY’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE DATING!

tags : so! lot to unpack here lol, superstore au, yes that sitcom netflix show SUE ME, references to the show, you don’t have to watch the show to read this but it’d be better if you knew what i was talking aboutgiejdks, naturally all characters work at cloud 9!girlpenis!yujin, handjobs, teasing, oral sex (yuj receiving), missionary sex, marking up, sub!yujin, she’s hung halp, dom!reader, implied puppy play, jonah!coded yujin, so yes she’s a loser, amy!coded reader, dina!coded gaeul, cheyenne!coded wonyoung, glenn!coded jiwon, although she isn’t really mentioned ueueueue, garrett!coded rei!

warnings : mentions of alcohol!

word count : 5,1k (excluding texting ofc!)

a/n : THIS IS MY LONGEST FIC YET?? kinda not proofread so sorry for that but HAIII omg okay so this took me such a long while to write i’m SORRYY</333 i started it while i was in the PRIME of my superstore hyperfixation and ??? IT’S SUCH A FUNNY SHOW I DEFINITELY RECOMMEND IT OMG did i mention this was a superstore au— [GUNSHOTS] as for my other drafts, they’re being worked on as we speak!! i really hope you enjoy reading this and thank you for your time! :]

also. IF ANY OTHER SUPERSTORE ENJOYERS ARE READING THIS PLEASEEE INVADE MY INBOX IMMEDIATELY I BEGGG

yujin.

that was all that preoccupied your thoughts, just her stupid face plaguing your mind like it was some sort of virus on a computer.

you needed yujin, there was no way around it. it was impossible to focus on your job when all you could think about was her, you needed her right here and right now.

and that’s exactly what you were gonna get.

after making sure that none of your coworkers were watching you flee the department you were in charge of, you quickly rushed towards the photo lab, or as everybody in the workplace liked to call it, ‘the bang room’. you walked in, slowly closed the door on your way and immediately pulled out your phone, leaning on the table and grinning to yourself as you typed up a text to send her.

running.

..running?

visualizing her just running across the store made you uncontrollably giggle at your screen in amusement.

cute, you thought to yourself. nobody else you knew would go out of their way to run across a department store as an employee to get head, and you’d normally take that text as a hyperbole, but knowing yujin? well, she was known to be very literal in everything she said. if she’d one day tell you that she had bigger fish to fry, that’s probably because she was indeed at home, frying bigger fish on a pan. (and she’d probably even send you pictures of the bigger fish in question, because why wouldn’t she?)

barely 30 seconds had passed after her last message when you turned off your phone, slid it into one of your back pockets and waited patiently. looking around at the familiar environment, you thought of various ways you two could use it this time. on your last encounter with yujin, she laid you down on the same counter that the printer sits on and proceeded to dick you down there! another time, you thought that grabbing the professional camera that’s usually used for passport or id pictures on the metal shelf next to the table and recording yujin as you rode her cock was an amazing idea! and, it was.

so much so that you still have the videos saved onto your phone!

you didn’t know that reminiscing about all of these past occurrences again would worsen your original predicament, but it did; you needed yujin to show up as soon as possible. now more than ever. 

then, suddenly, as if your prayers were magically answered, you heard rapid and loud footsteps outside the lab, followed by a familiar voice exclaiming the words “oh shit—“ before being cut off by the sound of numerous heavy boxes falling on the ground, the thud of that person’s body immediately following. worried, you got up from your seat, the door swinging open before you even had the chance to take a step towards it.

a panting yujin is what greeted you, her chest heaving up and down.

she looked at you, and you looked back at her, eyebrows raised in surprise. her eyes were nervous, darting around occasionally, looking like this was the first time you would’ve ever sucked her dick in the photo lab. 

oh she definitely fell on her way here.

“…hi?” you said, amused by the thought.

“hello!” she responded, still short of breath, smiling stupidly. 

still preoccupied by the alarming amount of boxes toppled over behind her, you tried looking over her shoulder, wanting to confirm your theory. she reacted by immediately leaning onto that side of the door frame, attempting to hide her accident from your curious sight by acting casual. that gesture alone made you especially notice how messy her short hair looked, how the ‘ahn yujin’ name tag she had pinned to her blue cloud 9 vest seemed to be abnormally tilted to the left, as well as… how weirdly scratched her glasses looked..?

it, unfortunately for her, didn’t take long at all for you to connect the dots.

yup. she fell. 

“yujin— did you slip on your way here?”

she immediately started laughing nervously in response, her eyes darting around as she pushed up her glasses and cleared her throat, hand running through her soft short hair, “…what?! noo… who do you think i am? that’d just be clumsy of me..” she kept laughing, that is, until she mumbled under her breath, 

“i did jog a little bit and didn’t seem to notice the wet sign that was on the floor but it’s just a tiny little scratch probably, nothing too bad aha i’ll clean it up later before the other managers sees it— a-anywho!” 

so you were correct in believing her, she did run across the store just to get in here quickly. and, as expected of her clumsy person, she apparently also slipped and fell in the process.

you giggled at her. god, what an idiot, you thought.

your favorite idiot.

“you know you could’ve just walked here, right?” you told her, slowly walking towards her as you cheekily smiled. “we’re not in a rush.”

while you did so, yujin took the opportunity to finally lock the door properly behind her, not even looking back at it. she stared at you, then at your lips, then right back up at your eyes. “well— i did tell gaeul that i was gonna stock up the fridge after cleaning the spilled yogurt..” 

her hand scratched the back of her head nervously, “and.. i-i kind of was in a rush, i mean, you texted me...”

you chuckled, simply thinking that she was being sappy. that is, until she nervously bit her lip and motioned with her eyes for you to look down at her. “i couldn’t have anyone see me like this… so—“

your gaze was met with the incredibly visible hard-on she had. no seriously, it poked right through her denim jeans, anybody with average, functioning eyes could effortlessly see it, especially under the new, very bright lights that were recently installed by the electricians. you scoffed, incredibly amused by the sight, she got a boner from those innocent texts alone? that was a first, no wonder why she looked so keen to get here.

in her defense, it had been a long while since the two of you were last in this room alone. hell, it’d been a long while since the two of you even said actual words to each other, period. you guys aren’t friends or anything, you only ever text her whenever it’s work or sex related and there’s still barely any conversation then, let alone when you spoke to her in person.

therefore, the boner wasn’t completely unexpected, but it was still enough to heavily flatter you. then, you felt your ego get even more stroked when you remembered that… she didn’t know much about you at all, yet she got this worked up over texts like that from you? a simple coworker she knew and fucked from time to time?

i mean, you probably wouldn’t even remember what her last name is without looking at her nametag; in other words, you know absolutely nothing about her either! okay yeah, you know that she would always stumble on her own words when talking to customers, and that she has a tendency to always pick at her nametag that’s on the left side of her vest using her right hand. you also know that she always pushes her glasses up whenever she’s nervous and that she is overall incredibly handsome and that you catch yourself staring at her from any department you’re tasked in managing very often, but apart from that? you truly don’t know much.

she’s nothing more than just an inferior at work, to you. an acquaintance, at most, but that’s about it.

this whole approximately-twice-per-month ‘meet me in the photo lab’ ritual you two have going on wouldn’t have even existed if it wasn’t for that one time that the corporate team accidentally locked all of you in the store for the night. seriously, what else was there to do? every employee there (including yourself) took the opportunity to get drunk out of their minds to pass the time and.. honestly? yujin just looked that good that night. you couldn’t help but feel the desire to drag her to the photo lab and figure out what she tastes like, despite it being strictly forbidden to be having any sort of sexual or romantic relationship with your inferior.

the both of you were anything-but-sober, very hot individuals, and she’d caught your attention for the longest time prior to that moment, too, something stupid was bound to happen in the heat of the moment!

“photo lab, in five.” was what you quietly slurred into her ear that night, holding the biggest, most cliché, red, beer-filled solo cup ever. since the others were too busy drinking and playing ‘never have i ever’ in a certain corner of the store, nobody particularly noticed you two. she, in response, could only turn her head to face you properly with her eyebrows slightly raised, clearly taken aback by your sudden and unexpected boldness, whilst also subconsciously taking in all of your intricate facial features all at once. it’s not like she didn’t know what ‘photo lab’ entailed, everyone that worked at cloud 9 for more than a week did. maybe you were joking, she thought, perhaps you said that just to get a reaction out of her. saying that she was confused in the moment would be a big understatement, especially when she watched you get up from your seat and make your way to the spot in question.

yujin’s not stupid at all, she knew you were drunk as shit, the manner that you stumbled on your words, the way your hand sat on her thigh, the slight tint of blush on your cheeks and nose quickly gave it away. she also figured that it was most probably a very bad idea to actually follow you into that room, considering that you’re her manager, and all..

did she still do it, though? of course, of course she did. because despite everything, despite all of the ‘this is so wrong’ and ‘we shouldn’t be doing this’ she managed to get out of her,

she was equally as intoxicated that night, and it’s not like she even had it in her to pass up your invitation whether she was sober or not; as much as yujin tried to remain professional around you and not pursue anything outside of work, she always deemed you as intriguing, and she had thought about you in such a way occasionally. that being said, she was willing to accept the consequences that came with potentially having sex with you that night.

those feelings only got stronger when you eventually showed her what she’d been missing out on for all those months in one singular night. anything she’d have hoped for, you exceeded in.

as it turns out, drunken people don't always make the worst decisions after all! since, yknow.. you haven’t gotten caught by anybody yet, and hopefully never will. the only consequence she really had to deal with afterwards was you contacting her throughout random times of her shifts whenever you felt like sucking dick.

and that’s a perfectly fine outcome for both you and her.

but, that hasn’t happened in a long time, not until now, at least. hence the situation you were both put in now.

“should’ve texted you earlier, by the looks of it, hm?” teasing, you approached her, both of you now face to face. your eyes trained on her crotch, you pressed your palm onto it before looking up at her again. yujin pushed her thick glasses up the bridge of her nose, then looked away from you in response to the intimacy, embarrassed.

you got to properly look at her features again. her eyes were still just as soft and fragile as when you saw them for the first time, staring back into yours with careful anticipation.

“m-maybe..” was what she mumbled under her breath, trying her hardest not to let out an accidental whimper from the slight friction she felt down there (which she failed to do), her thighs slightly clenched together. 

“did anybody see you walk in?” you asked.

“n-no! the only one near was wonyoung, i believe. and she was on her phone, as per usual..” reassured, you giggled at her usual nervousness, then, after keeping your eyes on her nervous lips for a few moments and licking your own in anticipation, you closed the minimal amount of distance between you two and made them meet after what felt like an eternity.

and once you did, she immediately got used to the familiar feeling and melted into the sensation of your embrace.

after such a long time of not being able to touch her like this, you felt like your hands glided on her entire body by themselves, feeling up the curve of her back and waist as you kissed her. she did the same, only this time more eager than your gentle movements, as one of her hands ‘accidentally’ grazed your ass.

one thing about yujin: she will always love your ass.

the only audible thing in the photo lab was her lips intertwining with yours, the kiss was undeniably messy, and while it might’ve been able to be heard from outside, you just couldn’t seem to care; at that moment, you just wanted to feel her body against yours, to pull her in closer than physically even possible. that’s what happens when you don’t get to have each other for a long time, after all.

“i missed you—“ she pulled away for a quick moment and whispered, pouting in a puppyish manner. her arms set around your waist and holding you, her fingers tugged onto your vest in desperation as you kept rubbing your hand on her clothed hard-on. 

“i know you did.” you whispered back, taking the opportunity to delicately unzip her jeans with the same hand you teased her with before going back into the kiss, this time, more longingly than ever. you did want to tell her how much you missed her too, but you refrained from doing so.

you had way better things to waste your time on.

your lips still on hers, she whimpered against the kiss. knowing her, she was wordlessly begging for you to do something about the raging boner you gave her. and knowing yourself, you wouldn’t give into her desires so easily, not until she used her words like a big girl. in other words, you wanted to see how desperate she would get.

smiling to yourself, you slowly slid your hand up from her crotch to her abs, you only kept tracing your finger on them, teasing her further.

“god, please—” her breath hitched, breaking the tense silence, the one that was occasionally filled with the sound of your lips uniting with hers. she whined even more, feeling her hard cock rubbing against the fabric of her already zipped down denim pants.

“please what, baby? you know i can’t do anything if you don’t tell me what it is you want.” you looked up innocently, now staring into her hooded eyes. she, in response, exhaled in anticipation, looking right back at you with her eyebrows slightly upturned. you knew exactly what she wanted, that much is obvious to her.

of course, she knew it wouldn’t be so easy, she knew she needed to work for it.

“i want you to t-touch me..” she desperately bucked her hips into your palm as a pitiful attempt at satisfying her crave for friction. “please..” was what she added afterwards, wearing her trademark puppy eyes whilst she pleaded.

“good girl.” you hummed, already getting familiar with the sound of her begging again. you planted a small kiss onto her lips and another onto her neck before getting down on your knees in front of her.

you looked up at her as you unbuttoned her jeans, your eyes locking with hers whilst you slowly pulled down her pants. once those as well as her boxers were completely off, leaving with nothing but her pretty dick springing up at you, you left lazy kisses all over her lower stomach and sides. 

you kept kissing her all over, giving attention to her inner thighs and hips, purposefully giving attention everywhere except where she specifically asked to be touched, watching out for any kind of reaction from her end.

and when you eventually got what you wanted, oh you were way more than satisfied.

“you’re so m-mean y/n.. please..” yujin whined quietly, too embarrassed to even look you in the eye anymore, hers all glossy with hot, desperate tears threatening to spill if this carried on any further. her dick said all of the words that couldn’t come out of her mouth through its slight movement, twitching and practically throbbing before you, aching to be taken care of.

she needed to feel your warm mouth around her, hell, just feeling the light graze of your touch against her aching cock would be enough; at least, that’s what it felt like, she was sure she’d go insane if you didn’t give her just that. if she could, she’d grab the back of your head and fuck your throat like she likes it, unapologetic and more than ready to make you swallow all of her thick load.

she knew she couldn’t, of course, she was very much aware that she needed permission to remotely even touch you, which, unfortunately for her, just contributed to arousing her even more.

taking pity on her, “i’m sorry for teasing, baby, you’re just so cute when you beg..” you admitted, smiling to yourself and running your hand up and down her thigh, before adding on, “you’ve been so needy, so good for me.. and just for that, i’ll take good care of you now, okay?”

just like that, her eyes were back on yours, this time wider and more excited, it’s like you could see her invisible puppy ears standing up in anticipation. she nodded at your words, her gaze still wet and pathetic with tears. 

it didn’t take long for you to finally wrap your hand around her hard shaft, stroking it up and down ever so slowly, to which the girl whose penis you were jerking off let out a heavy sigh of relief. your thumb brushed the slit of her tip, rubbing all of the precum that came out of it all over the surface of her cock, making her shudder. then, after what felt like an eternity of you teasing her, you eventually took all of her length all at once, holding your hair up. 

“ahh— y/n.. fuck..“ desperate moans escaped yujin’s mouth as you sucked her off, using all of her willpower attempting to not hold up your hair for you and ram herself into your mouth. 

she really wanted to, though, and you know her like you know the back of your hand, so that wasn’t hard to figure out. it’s obvious, especially with how her nails seemed to dig into her own skin due to how desperate she was to touch you. 

you saw that, and took pity on her; gently grabbing one of her hands and putting it on your hair, you nonverbally gave her the desired permission to finally touch you, and to guide your head however she wanted to.

mumbling quiet and desperate ‘thank you’s, she nestled her fingers in between your strands of hair for maximum comfort. unconscious about it, she dug her nails into your scalp slightly. it didn’t take long until she proceeded to finally move your head in a repetitive, back and forth motion.

“y/n..” she groaned after a while of having you suck her off, looking down at you and using all of her willpower to be as quiet as possible, but alas, “i can’t hold it in.. i’m sorry i— i need to cum.. so badly—”

no matter how hard she tried to keep it contained, she simply couldn’t: she moaned, finally shooting her long anticipated load into your throat, the warm and thick substance coating the entirety of the inside of your mouth. 

you weren’t done with her, of course, especially not after that.

now, you weren’t usually one to be into anything considered similar to ‘vanilla sex’, you always liked experimenting and trying different things, especially if it was with yujin. however, you felt like keeping it simple today, your only objective being to orgasm from the girl’s, still very hard, cock.

therefore, what better way to do that than some good old missionary on the photo lab table? 

after making out with you and leaving marks all over your neck and visible parts of your collarbone, she ended up on top of your laying body, both your clothing and hers mostly still on. 

being positioned like this was the only time where she felt like she had power over you, and not vice-versa. it was the only time where she felt like she could do anything she wanted to you without any consequences, and she looked forward to it every single time. of course, she still thoroughly enjoys having you order her around, whether it’s for work or not, however, she also liked having a role switch every once in a while.

keeping her balance with one of the hands she has on the table, positioned right next to your head, she proceeded to take off the glasses from her face and set them somewhere near. you quickly stopped her by gently grabbing onto her wrist, which caught her attention. wide-eyed, she asked, “yeah?”

“don’t take them off.”

“...excuse me–”

“keep your stupid glasses on this time,” she was already committed to the action of putting them back on after you indicated that you wanted her to, but you decided to justify further, just for good measure, “i’ve always wondered what’d it look like for you to wear them while you fuck me.” 

and when she thought she couldn’t possibly be any more turned on and eager to fuck you, you proved her wrong with just that small, simple sentence.

she quickly pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose before leaning back into you, kissing you again, this time more eagerly. soon enough, she pulled away and started fucking you with slow, gentle thrusts, listening out for any sounds that came out of your pretty lips, gaze going back and forth between admiring how pleasure quickly contorted your beautiful face and watching how her dick disappeared into you.

the longer that went on, the harder it got to contain the noises that threatened to leave your already agape mouth, especially with how fast yujin’s pace got progressively faster.

“f-fuck yujin..” you whined, watching the girl on top of you lose herself as she thrusted the entirety of her length into your core. she looked at you through the lenses of her glasses as you whimpered sweet praises, leaving hungry, desperate kisses all over your lips, neck and even collarbone, marking you up even more.

soon enough, all of this turned into a constant cycle; all of a sudden, you realized that you wouldn’t actually mind staying that way for hours and hours on end. who knew that yujin could make hooking up on a shift for around the hundredth time still be so fun?

she eventually planted one last kiss on your lips before making you cum, your walls clenching all around her cock, which, of course, turned her on so much that she had to pull out to jerk off and help herself reach her own climax, in one last long moan.

lightheaded from the consecutive orgasms she’s put herself through, she laid there after you thoroughly licked her coated-in-cum dominant hand, as to remove any evidence of you two being ever here. her body rested on yours and her head comfortably nestled in the crook of your neck as she cuddled up to you, enjoying your body warmth. you panted, matching the rhythm of her own breathing, otherwise a comfortable silence settled between the two of you. 

that is, until her phone obnoxiously rang in one of her jean pockets, breaking said silence and catching the both of you by surprise. 

sitting up in a hurry, she quickly digs into said pocket and pulls out her cellular device, wasting no time to look at the caller and straight up just answers it, in case of an emergency. she puts it up to her ear before speaking up, clearly nervous, “..hello?”

silence. you stare at her with anticipation and curiosity, studying her facial expressions and looking out for any hint of bad news. thankfully, that never happened, as her eyes instead lit up in surprise.

“oh! yes, hello..”

“uh huh,” she added, nodding along to the words only she heard from the tiny phone speaker placed against her ear, “4 pm? yes! of course, i-i’ll be there. thank you so much.” 

she quickly fixed her posture and ended the call soon after saying that, turning back at you with a pleased and surprised expression.

“who was that?” you asked, curiosity eating at you.

“target.” she watched as your expression switched to a puzzled one, therefore explained further, “they called me to see if i was free for an interview later.”

“interview?” you repeated, making sure you heard her correctly, she nodded. “you applied to places recently?” is what you added.

she gave you another nod, this time reluctant, fixing her glasses and messy short hair, “i mean, nothing against cloud 9 or anything! i like working here and i love you guys, a lot! i simply just wanted a change of pace, i guess.. p-plus they might not even hire me, it’s not like i was expecting them to even call me back in the first place, so—” 

“hey,” you placed before she could stumble on another one of her words, wearing a sympathetic smile, “don’t worry about ‘not repping’ cloud 9 or whatever, it’s not like you sold your soul to jiwon when coming here. you’ll kill it there!” you joked, before continuing, “plus, you can always come back if things ever don’t work out; whatever happens, i’m rooting for you, we all are.” 

“even if you’re working for the rival company.” were your last words before leaving a kiss on her cheek and standing back up on your two feet, fixing yourself up. the sudden skin contact combined with the banter earned a shy giggle from yujin.

it was somewhat a ridiculous situation, feeling guilty for leaving your coworkers and going for another job, yujin didn’t know why she felt like this over trivial things such as this one. yet, you comforted her, despite how stupid it might seem. it’s only natural since you, out of all people, are the first person to know how much of a nervous wreck she is and how sensitive she always is to this kind of stuff, that was her charm, after all.

she appreciated you way more than she’d like to outwardly admit.

so, while you’re making your way to the door, getting ready to go to the break room to grab your things from your locker and clock out for the day, she calls out to you, “hey, y/n?”

“yeah?”

“are you maybe free, afterwards? y-yknow since our shifts both end at 2:30pm i was thinking we could maybe go grab a coffee together before my job interview and stuff but it’s like, totally fine if you already have plans or whatever—“

you smiled, flattered by the invitation. after all, today would mark the last day that you’re considered her ‘superior’, so you found it cute that she’d ask so soon. quite frankly, you were very tempted, this time having no obstacles in your way. who wouldn’t wanna go out on a date with the cute, charming girl who usually works at the dairy section? well, used to.

“sure, i would love tha—“

“ahem ahem.” you were cut off by the staticky sound of the words coming from the intercom, immediately recognizing the familiar and soft-spoken voice of your coworker, rei, “attention, dear shoppers of cloud 9, just a heads up to please proceed to not feel concerned about the following message, as it is destined to our staff, and our staff only, please and thank you. happy shopping!”

you and the puppy-like girl looked at each other in confusion, only to be thrown off guard by the same voice again, this time sounding more impatient. 

“now.. y/n, yujin, i know you can hear me; come out of that damn photo lab before i personally drag you out of there myself oh my god y’all aren’t slick, we all know what you do in there, you’re not fooling anybody. also, what happened to keeping it classy? what happened to doing this at home? not only that but it’s been like— an hour and a customer has been trying to get some passport photos done but you hoes— two, you two have been at it for forever. next time, if you’re gonna do this, make sure to at least keep it short and not have it last a whole decade.” 

then, you heard the intercom turn off.

yujin’s face went completely red as she listened to that, now not at all wanting to walk out of said photo lab. you cleared your throat, your whole body invaded with nothing but embarrassment as uncomfortable silence filled the space between you and the other girl. 

then, once you heard the intercom turn on again, it felt like your worst nightmare coming back to life for round two.

except this time, it didn’t come for you.

“oh and yujin, gaeul wanted me to tell—“ rei’s voice blasted through the speaker again before being obnoxiously interrupted by what sounded like gaeul’s voice, who was audibly angry and annoyed.

“yujin if you don’t get your ass back in the dairy section right now and clean that god damned spilled yogurt i’ll personally make sure that jiwon gets your next paycheck cut off by fifty percent, don’t test me. it reeks, yujin, reeks. oh and as for you, wonyoung, get off that damn phone before i—”

then, the intercom turned off again, which was probably rei’s doing, to both yujin, and probably wonyoung’s relief. 

you simply giggled, watching as she took off her name tag in an embarrassed manner, yknow, as to not be recognized by the customers she’d meet on her way to the row she had to clean. then, you cleared your throat, earning her attention before leaving. 

“meet me outside when you’re done?” you smiled.

she returned that same smile, immediately having forgotten the misery that was waiting for her outside that door, visibly excited.

“yeah, i’ll be there.”

[cr4yolaas]

for lovers who hesitate — tsukishima kei

synopsis: you find your old academic rival at your new job. every bone in your body says it’s fate, but everything else seems to be stopping you.

notes: puking cuz idk how i feel abt this one. i worked on this all thru out my trip and there was a lot of scrapping and rewriting and deleting the entire thing and rewriting it again, but i think this version is the best i could get it to. i <3 tsukishima kei

tags: fluff → angst → fluff, self-indulgent long fic, reader smokes, reader has trauma w/ their parents, mainly fem reader oriented but gn pronouns used, reader has self-destructive habits, themes of self-doubt from both, tsukishima is probably ooc, slow burn but not really, the most awkward love confession ever, mitski rdr x radiohead tsukishima (sorry), proofread but not really

tsukishima kei, for once, was at a loss for words.

there you stood beneath the bright green foliage, your face marred by the heatwaves of the sun and still all too familiar. he thought, for a moment, that he had the wrong person — you had taken on a rougher appearance, but his body, heart, and soul still recognized you. and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to speak to you.

where had the last decade gone?

he coughed into his fist and walked past you, feigning ignorance to your arrival. when you followed after him with a keycard of your own, he found himself flustered.

no words were exchanged. he was playing the silent game with you, although he quietly hoped you would say something first.

and thus, he continued his shift as usual, with the added oddity of you shadowing him alongside his boss. he just couldn’t find the proper words to place on his tongue, nor the right gestures to show that he did want to talk, he just didn’t know how to.

but truthfully, what was one supposed to say in such a situation?

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

you believed that tsukishima hated you. and you wouldn’t blame him.

when you applied for this job, you had no expectations going into it, save for the hope of a higher salary and a lighter load than your previous job. what you had not anticipated was to stand face to face with the man you swore to hate in your youth.

a sliver of hope embedded itself within you; an overwhelming desire to perhaps refurbish a long lost relationship had taken root. but when he looked away so persistently and spoke not a word to you, that sliver dissipated into meaningless sand.

you continued your work as best as possible. it was a routine job — set up the displays for the day, guide whatever visitors came around, and leave in the afternoon. but when a certain blonde was sneaking glances at you and somehow always in your vicinity, it proved to be easier said than done.

you were too afraid to admit that his presence was refreshing. that, in the midst of the mundane and borderline unhealthy cycle you had formulated within the past handful of years following graduation, he had proven to be an odd factor; he stood as a disruptor to the routine. it was unwelcome. and even still, you craved it and more.

tsukishima kei had always been a constant in your life. you just didn’t expect him to reappear so soon, so suddenly.

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

it was a wednesday. an uneventful shift had come to an end. and just as you rid yourself of your work attire, a verbal invitation to a work party was sent your way.

the prospect of it was almost laughable. you were under the impression that the body of employees in a museum would be too reserved to host parties such as this, and you were quickly proven otherwise. thus, you accepted instantly.

as soon as you sat down, you regretted it just as quickly.

the moon had just barely begun to hang bright in the sky, and yet the table was already full of drunken coworkers that you hadn’t seen before. loud chatter filled the room, as if this table was the only one in the establishment. it was overbearing.

before you could take even a sip of your drink, you excused yourself under the pretense of needing to use the restroom. instead, you escaped outside, the gentle breeze reestablishing your senses and reeling you back in.

he was also there.

“oh,” he exclaimed softly. his eyes drifted away from yours, the warmth of his cheeks illuminated by the dim lamp above. oh was the first word he had ever spoken to you since graduation. you nearly laughed.

“hello,” you offered quietly, still testing the waters of conversation. your gaze fell to his fingers, slim and cherry-kissed and blemished, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “um… i didn’t expect to see you here…?”

tsukishima laughed lightly at your tone, as if to conceal his own anxieties. “likewise.” he watched as you pulled out a cigarette, the stick meeting your lips like it were more than natural. “did you come all this way to stalk me? or to follow me? after all those years of silence?” he teased, although a tinge of bitterness dripped from his words.

you shook your head aggressively. “no, no, i just…” you bit at your lip for a moment before continuing. “i’m taking a break from my actual job. i needed to wind down before i return.”

tsukishima hummed at your response, evidently oblivious to your lie. he looked at you for a moment too long, his eyes grazing over each alteration and unfamiliar feature. he could not help but admire you in this light — the soft strings of moonlight in contrast with the neon signs glaring against your complexion painted an image he hadn’t seen in ages.

for the first time in a long time, tsukishima kei thought you were unbearably pretty.

what he didn’t catch wind of was your nervous shuffles and your incessant skin-picking as you stood beside him. he didn’t realize that the cigarette was a distractor, a tool to pull you back in. and he failed to acknowledge the stutter in your voice as you spoke to him, for it hadn’t crossed his mind once that you thought he disliked you. not that it would matter to him, anyways.

it’s too soon, he thought to himself. this is stupid, he argued. i’d mess it up if i did anything reckless, he reasoned. all of which were excuses to fight against the overwhelming reality of his vulnerability.

you turned your head away, the extended silence whittling away at whatever confidence you once bore. tsukishima watched with framed eyes and a calculative stare, as if scrutinizing each and every action you took. unbeknownst to you, it was the exact opposite of that.

the soft call of your name from inside the bar pulled your attention away, much to his dismay. he witnessed your frame disappear through the doors, your eyes flitting towards his so quickly he might’ve imagined it.

this was foolish. tsukishima decided that much. but despite his claims of how stupid it was, he was getting reeled in faster than he could pull out.

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

despite how hard he tried to display his ignorance, tsukishima was caring at his core.

silent glances exchanged between shifts morphed into small conversations shared whenever possible, as if the tension that previously barred you from interaction had dissipated into nothingness.

at some point, he dropped off a neatly wrapped bento box to your desk, the fabric littered with small dinosaur doodles.

“what is this?” you questioned, an amused lilt to your voice. you failed to notice the way pink rose to his ears, too enamored by the intricate arrangement of veggies and rice.

“don’t think anything of it. i just had leftover food and didn’t want to waste it.” the excuse slipped through his lips as if it were truth, earning him a soft smile from you.

there were butterflies whipping their wings against his ribcage so aggressively they might have bulged out from his skin.

eventually, you invited him out for a walk to the convenience store nearby during your break. and after that, it became routine. with an umbrella in one hand and his wallet in another, tsukishima walked with you down the street to buy onigiri and sandwiches and sometimes a sweet treat nearly every day, and that shared hour became his favorite part of work.

it was silly.

you sat beside him in the booth, your blistered hands carefully unwrapping the plastic from your meal. to your left sat a can of soda. and to your right, he was there.

“i need to stop living off of these,” you complained while motioning towards the onigiri in your grasp.

tsukishima shook his head. “what else would you eat?”

“your bento boxes,” you commented absentmindedly, your bites becoming larger as you neared the center of the rice. “i liked it, when you gave it to me that one time. you should make it again.”

he looked away, his chin resting atop the sweat of his palm. slowly, he turned towards you. “it’s just a bento box. surely you can handle making one.”

“oh, shut up!” you laughed while shoving him lightly. “the fact that you can even make one is shocking. all you have in that head is volleyball and shit.”

“our old test scores say otherwise,” he quipped. the shift in your eyes left a bitter taste on his tongue.

“whatever,” you muttered before leaving to throw out your trash. a pit grew in tsukishima’s stomach.

the blonde mustered the last of his resolve and made an offer. “i’ll teach you how to make one.”

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

of all the things tsukishima was bracing himself to see, a thinly-walled apartment that was less than well-maintained was the last thing he was prepared for.

you came out from your bedroom in clothes that were far more casual than his, your hair disheveled and your steps uneven. “sorry for the mess,” you uttered while bending down to pick up a hoodie sprawled across the floor, alongside a plastic bag that looked empty. he could only watch in awe.

he placed his bag down on your counter before arranging the ingredients, each brought from his own home. the clatter of your rushed cleaning echoed behind him. and when you finally stood beside the man, he could not contain his grin.

tsukishima decided to hold his tongue. instead, he opted to gently guide your hands through each step, the perspiration collecting on his skin a stark contrast from the rough texture of yours. he realized how little you knew, despite your insistence that you were more than knowledgeable in what you were doing — it showed in your unstable cutting and your hesitance when preparing the pot for boiling — but he refrained from commenting, in fear of disrupting the peace he’d constructed.

on the other hand, you were horrified.

to admit that you were inferior to him in yet another aspect uprooted the envy you had burrowed deep within yourself, and you were terrified of letting it overspill. he was so calm — at least, that was what it looked like — and you’d be damned to ruin it.

mitski’s soft hums reverberated in the background, your shaky chopping filling in the rest of the noise. it was almost satirical — the solemn melodies coated your bare bones and rendered you silent, a strong juxtaposition to the warmth exuded from the closeness of your skin to his. neither of you did anything to interfere, save for an earlier comment from the man questioning your music taste.

(“then what do you listen to?”

“… radiohead.”

“wow. as if that’s any better than mitski.”)

tsukishima found himself smiling at your pride in your creation. messy, yes. but within each ingredient lay a remnant of him, and that was enough.

a stream of small talk emerged into you sitting on the couch together. the music dimmed down to white noise and an old romcom that had only two star ratings played on your TV, the poor quality adding to the humor. your legs leaned against his beneath the blanket. and there was peace.

tsukishima knew what it was. he knew what this would blossom into, and he could only hope and pray he didn’t mess it up in some way. your quiet yet crude commentary disappeared into the tender air, and he remained silent, as if absorbing each syllable that fell from your lips.

it was so quiet, and so vulnerable, and so delicate that he felt like he was going to explode.

he didn’t question it when your head fell onto his shoulder. he didn’t make fun of you when your colorful reviews on each scene turned into sleepy ramblings. and he didn’t say a word when you dozed off against him, your whole body against his.

instead, he looked around. he took note of the dust collecting on the cabinets, the water marks on the windows, the clothes and food and plastic scattered all over your living room, the dead plant on the shelf, and the half-empty pack of cigarettes sitting on the arm of the couch. it was all a far, far cry from the cleanliness and stability of his own home, and yet, he thought to himself, this is so like them. and he thought, i could live in here, if it were with them. and again, he thought, this could be a home.

tsukishima kei was of the belief that he did not have a type. but as he observed your house and reflected on its singular (?) inhabitant, he figured that this was his type. his type was your quiet laughs and your sharp remarks and your wrinkled clothes and the scent of cigarettes that always seemed to cling to you. his type was you.

he exchanged one last glance to your sleeping figure before getting up and leaving you to rest. not without wrapping up your lunch for tomorrow, and not without a small smile on his lips.

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

hell came to you on a thursday morning — the day following whatever had happened between you and tsukishima. you hadn’t put on your uniform just yet, and your belongings sat outside of your locker.

your boss scrambled into the office, his brows furrowed and his larger hands closing the door as quickly as he could without slamming it. the sweat that collected between his wrinkles shined beneath the dim lights. his breaths were haggard and rushed and shallow.

for the first time in a long time, you felt fear.

“there’s people who want to talk to you outside,” he whispered. “they want to talk to you now.”

there was no one else in the building. no one other than you, your boss, and the people who were so adamant on speaking to you.

so why was it so loud as soon as you stepped out?

the eyes of your mother came into your vision first. then, the stare of your father. and finally, their faces blended into one large picture that made sense.

“what the fuck are you doing here?”

withered hands slammed against the table. you watched the papers and the dinosaur trinkets rattle. “that’s no way to speak to your parents.” you could feel it — the air seeping out of your lungs, depriving you of breath; the trembling in your palms; the cloudiness in your peripherals. you could hear them, but you couldn’t hear them. at some point, their vocabulary was solely financial, and at another point, it grew cruel and violent, akin to wild dogs gnawing away at your skin. you didn’t know where it was going. the hastened footsteps of an unidentifiable coworker neared, and the shaky breaths of your boss behind the door grew louder and louder.

you needed to leave.

your feet led you away before your mind could. the yelling softened, until finally, the only sound was the chirp of birds and the whirring of cars.

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

tsukishima didn’t see you for a week. he didn’t hear any mention of your name, didn’t find your face in a crowd, didn’t feel the vibrations of your voice against his chest. you had disappeared, and no one told him why. it wasn’t until your name didn’t show up on the schedule that something clicked.

it was cruel. you were cruel, he decided.

tadashi sat on the couch while his roommate leaned against the counter. the hum of the air conditioning blinded the blonde’s senses.

“i don’t fucking know what i did,” tsukishima groaned into his palms for the twentieth time that night. “they just left. they quit and i can’t even contact them because i was stupid enough to not ask for their number or email or anything. i don’t- i don’t fucking know, ‘dashi, i don’t.”

“i’m sure they had some good reason,” his friend attempted. “i don’t think they’d do that if it weren’t within some sensible limit. it was fucked, yeah, but… i don’t know. i think they’ll come back when the time is right.”

it was tiring. it was tiring to be left alone not just once, but twice. and it was tiring to have it hurt so much more the second time.

tsukishima ran a hand through his hair. “it’s so stupid.” another groan spilled from his tongue. “i’m so fucking tired of this.”

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

this was just about the fourth job you had applied for.

the museum could no longer be a part of your routine — instead, it morphed into loud nights and bustling men and the clinking of glass; it emerged from quiet and gentle tours around dinosaur exhibits to noisy cheers and yelling and the more-than-occasional bottle thrown at your head; it turned into pure, devastating loneliness.

it was compact. it was suffocating. it was overwhelming. it was everything the museum was not. but you could not return there, no matter how much you ached for it.

you were avoiding him. avoiding everyone.

a gentle nudge from a blurred face reminded you that your shift was over for the night, coupled with an apology for the gash that formed on your head from another drunken man who had no outlet for his anger other than you. with heavy steps, you trudged back home, thankful for the week’s pay and the free food and drinks.

it was quiet.

the lights were off, and the LED numbers on the microwave read way past midnight. a dull pounding resided in your chest.

just the other day, it was so vibrant. you were alive, and so was he, and it was going well. but it was wrong. you realized that much when your parents came to remind you, and you realized it again as you quit the same day.

the thumping in your chest spread to your head, and your back met the wall with a force that was sure to upset your neighbors. carefully, daintily, you slid down, your body reaching the floor gently.

you missed him. but it was wrong.

that night, for the first time in a long while, you cried.

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

tucked away in a small alley in sendai resided an establishment with only three tables and a bar that was worn down from years of use. and behind it, tsukishima found you.

he was only out for a walk. at least, that was what it was until his feet brought him elsewhere and he stood face-to-face with the most suspicious of buildings. and when he saw you, it felt as if all the anger and guilt and distress that riddled his bones and flesh and blood withered away, as if it hadn’t coalesced within his veins over the past month.

before you could hide, his hand snaked around your wrist, his touch light yet desperate. “can we talk?”

talking entailed bringing him back to your apartment. and by extension, it included him witnessing your house somehow being worse than before.

tsukishima found himself sitting on the floor with his back to the couch, and you found yourself sprawled across said couch. he picked at the blisters on his fingers before quietly asking, “why did you do that?”

he could hear your nervous habits — the shifting, the fidgeting, the harsh lip biting. “i don’t know.”

“bullshit,” he muttered under his breath.

you turned over onto your side to face his back. “my parents found me,” you explained meekly. improper guidance leads to destructive tendencies. tsukishima kei, in his high school years, was deemed your only obstacle to complete succession — always a few points ahead, a few questions ahead, a few steps ahead — and your poor influence from youth only fueled such a fire. and so, you felt that it was reasonable to loathe him. your judgement was clouded beyond repair.

tsukishima listened. he listened to every detail, every portion of your retelling of each segment of your childhood, and your teen years, and your silly hatred for him. he listened to you talk about what you did after graduation — how you got into a good university but dropped out and hopped between a multitude of jobs (thus proving your claim at the work party to be a lie), and how you were constantly escaping from both the stress and your parents.

he listened so intently that it was overbearing. you didn’t tell him that. instead, you talked and talked and talked until you sculpted him into someone who knew your entire life, as if he were there from the beginning.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered through stubborn tears. you hated it — how exposing it was, how you had practically dumped everything onto him in one go, how you couldn’t help but beg for forgiveness in the end. most of all, you hated how easily he gave you his forgiveness.

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

tsukishima didn’t leave your house at all that week. you found no energy to complain.

in the morning, you’d find him cleaning whatever disaster you left behind, whether it was the pile of laundry on your bed or the collection of full trash bags next to the front door or the food (or rather, the lack thereof) in your fridge. he was silent all the while, and that hurt more than any berating he could have done.

“why are you still here?” you asked him one night. you had finally moved from the couch to the bed, and tsukishima couldn’t be any prouder. (any movement at all was enough to be proud of, he felt). “you shouldn’t want to be here.”

you watched him heave a heavy breath as his shoulders drooped. “because i want you,” he admitted, his voice unmistakably tender and soft and ridden with a youthfulness that he unearthed from deep within himself. “i want to be with you and i want you to be happy and i just want us to be happy together, for once.”

he spoke of his affections so fluently, as if he were born to share them with you. and still, every bone in your body was whispering otherwise.

even so, tsukishima promised that he would be willing to wait. even if it meant watching you down an unreasonable amount of beer at an unreasonable hour.

he promised to sit through it all with you, even if it meant listening to you call his name out in long, drawn-out tones. even if it meant hearing you confess your long-harbored affection for him. even if it meant hearing you say that you never told him, not even in high school, because you felt like you didn’t deserve to tell him.

tsukishima didn’t understand.

he failed to comprehend how you didn’t feel deserving, when his whole body, mind, and soul was bound to you; when, in the depths of the night, he’d burn pink in the night at the mere thought of you; when he was so uncharacteristically smitten for you. he didn’t get it. he didn’t think he ever would.

not that he said anything about it — at least, not in that moment. not when you were inexplicably drunk, to the point where you couldn’t move a limb without tumbling over.

but, without a doubt, he went to bed with a stupid grin and a berry-kissed face.

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

it took another couple of weeks before tsukishima would see you at work again. you entered through the doors as if you never left, and he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be excited or neutral or anything else, because his guts only knew tenderness with you at that point — all the fake ignorance and stubbornness and denial had been cast aside.

you basked in a shared silence in the locker room, until you finally admitted that you were, in fact, healing. to some degree, at least. you asked him to come over again under the pretense of seeing how clean your house was. you detailed every segment of your life, from when he last saw you to your entrance into the museum, including how you made yourself breakfast for the first time in forever and how you drank a cup of water almost every day. and he was so overwhelmingly proud, so much so that it spilled over and he couldn’t contain himself.

“i love you,” he blurted out, his rushed admission cutting off your rambling. you whipped your head towards him, but he was looking everywhere except for you.

“what?” you exclaimed.

“i said i love you. i’m in love with you. what don’t you get?”

your jaw hung open, just like that of a fish. “wait- what the fuck?” much to his amusement, you jumped up and began pacing around the room. “i like- well, i guess, love,” you paused, the vocabulary uncomfortable on your teeth. “you too, but like- what the fuck? who told you that?”

“you did.”

“what?”

tsukishima kei was laughing. he was laughing at you, and yet, you weren’t as angry as you expected to be. he was laughing, and all you could do was relish in the noise.

“so,” he hummed delightfully, an amused smirk on his lips. “am i still coming over?”

you (begrudgingly) agreed. again, he laughed — this time, at the heat rising to your face.

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

through the cracks between your blinds, silk strands of sunlight crawled through, a soft reminder of the morning. beside you, a mountain of warmth lay, with his glasses still on his face and his hoodie misshapen on his body.

tsukishima was always the first to rise. he would wait for your eyes to flit open gently before getting up and making breakfast, despite your protests that your food was probably better than his. he never listened.

the splatter of coffee into your cup served as the only noise in the room, save for the dull noise of the morning news on the TV and the cars passing by outside the window. you watched intently as the blonde set up the table, his lip drawn in a tight line but his eyes shimmering with contentment. “eat up,” he spoke quietly as he took a seat in front of you.

tsukishima kei was, by no means, a cruel person. he was just a little rough on the edges and occasionally didn’t quite know how to say things without being mean. but as he sat with you, eating breakfast made by him in your shared apartment; as he pressed a fleeting kiss to your forehead before leaving to change, ignoring your groans about the remnants of syrup on his lips; as he drove you to work as the sun settled in the sky; you realized he was simply a man in love.