#“when the inside jokes are still there”

[gumii-bearr]

thinking about... ❝ corruption kink ❞

featuring... megumi fushiguro

content warning: MDNI (18+), afab!reader, girly!reader, alt!megumi, college!au (all characters are around 20-22), opposites attract fr, choking, corruption kink, rough sex??, virgin!reader, masturbation mentions??, dacryphilia, spanking, bruising, marking, size kink, blowjob mentions, dom/sub dynamics, reader is a girly girl and megumi is alt as fuck

author's note: this was requested by a lot of people

── alt!megumi who was infatuated with you from the start.

── you met at some college party and you were just adorable. you wore a pretty pink skirt with frills and lace, and you had pink bows in your hair and your makeup done with pretty blush and glitter.

── and alt!megumi knew he had to have you.

── you were so sweet to him, immediately bubbly and kind, complimenting his tattoos and his piercings and laughing at his sort of terrible jokes.

── and you loved that he was bigger than you and stronger than you, he was dark and brooding and definitely a little intimidating but you always make it a mission to befriend everyone.

── alt!megumi loving how soft and pretty you are and he'd be lying to himself and everyone else if he didn't want to corrupt your sweet little innocence.

── alt!megumi who stands out like a sore thumb in your pastel room, covered in hello kitty posters, fairy lights, sanrio plushies and pretty pink bedspreads and pastel sheets.

── alt!megumi whose dark clothes end up strewn all over your floor, your adorable lacy bloomers and pink skirt in a heap because you can't fucking resist each other anymore.

── alt!megumi who has your kitty sock-clad feet over his shoulders, your little hands gripping the sheets while he fucks into your tight little virgin pussy.

── alt!megumi who knows he's your first with how tight you feel around him, your plush thighs shaking with your approaching orgasm and you don't know what's happening because you've never been able to make yourself cum on your little fingers.

── "g-gumi– what's happening? i f-feel weird–"

── "s'okay, sweetheart... you're gonna cum."

── alt!megumi who loves it when you cry. when you whimper and cling to his shoulders, your pretty acrylic nails scraping down his back because it feels too good and you can't get enough.

── alt!megumi who wants to fucking ruin you for any other guy.

── alt!megumi who fucks you a little rougher the more you get used to his cock.

── he leaves bruises on your pretty hips and likes to leave hickeys all over your neck and down your pretty tits. and he especially loves when you try to ride him.

── it feels too good and you're whimpering and moaning and your movements are so shallow and erratic and megumi knows you need his help but fucking hell he likes to see you beg and whine about being embarrassed.

── alt!megumi who finds out you like to be spanked.

── you try doggy for the first time and your ass is just so damn cute pressed against his hips like that and he can't stop himself.

── he lands a hard spank to your ass and you whimper and gasp at the feeling of his cock deep inside you paired with the sting of his big hand on your ass.

── you clench down hard on him.

── "aw, sweet girl... you like that, huh?"

── he never lets you leave without your ass red and stinging under your cute little skirt, too sore to put on panties and too sore to sit down in a chair so of course you sit in his lap so he can soothe you with kisses and gentle rubs to your thigh.

── alt!megumi who fucking loses it when he sees your adorable pink lacy panties on his bedroom floor, a stark contrast to the dark and alternative vibe of his room.

── he loves seeing you wrapped up in his black sheets, your skin so soft and so warm and your hair still adorned with bows and pink hair tinsel.

── alt!megumi who slips your panties into his back pocket and will act dumb when you ask if he's seen them later.

── alt!megumi who will never fail to be surprised by you. like when he's fucking you a little too soft and you like it rough now because of him, so you tug on his hand and force it around your throat, wanting him to choke you while he fucks into you.

── "holy shit, sweetheart. you just keep me guessin' don't you?"

── alt!megumi who likes how much bigger he is than you, how your hands look so small wrapped around his cock and how your mouth struggles to take him.

── alt!megumi who likes how fucking dumb you get on his dick. begging for more as if you don't feel him inside your tummy and as if you haven't cum on his face, his fingers and his cock about six times.

── alt!megumi who fucking loves you, loves how you leave angry marks down his back, how you leave your cute panties lying around on his bedroom floor, how you send him little pictures of your outfits every day only for them to end up on your floor when he comes over.

── alt!megumi who's the first guy to ever fuck you and will absolutely be the last.

author's note: RARARARARA BARKING ON ALL FOURS

[vunblr]

The Price of Silence

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ only. Smut. Unprotected sex. Dirty talk.

Summary: Porn with a little plot, what can I say.

Word Count: 9k.

notes: None. Just filth.

The world had shifted after the Blip, mutated into something unrecognizable. Bucky had learned to survive in chaos, but survival wasn’t the same as living. His government-mandated therapy sessions had been a performance. A carefully crafted facade to prove he was “reformed,” that the Winter Soldier was no longer a threat. It worked. The government gave him the pardon he’d been promised and promptly forgot about him.

Finding a job had been the first hurdle. The Blip had flooded the workforce, and employers weren’t keen on hiring a man with his history, no matter how clean his record now appeared on paper. The rejection became a pattern, confirming what he already suspected, there was no place for him here.

But the construction site didn’t care who he was. They didn’t ask questions when he showed up looking for work. His enhanced strength made him an asset. Moving steel beams, hauling concrete, cutting down hours of labor with what he could do in minutes. He worked silently, head down, invisible among the noise of drills and heavy machinery. On Fridays, he got his paycheck and a little extra for the tasks only he could do.

The city still treated him like a ghost. People stared, whispered, or crossed the street when they recognized him. He didn’t hide his arm anymore; he let the matte black vibranium gleam under the sun. Let them look, let them flinch. It didn’t matter anymore.

The tattoos had started as a cruel inner joke. The red star below his clavicle had been his first, an ironic reminder of the weight he carried. It hurt like hell, his serum-enhanced skin required tebori, the old Japanese hand-poking technique, to get the ink to stick. The pain didn’t bother him. If anything, it made him feel alive, comforting him in ways the therapy never had. Over time, more tattoos joined the collection, sprawling over his arms, chest, and back. A physical map of what he’d endured, what he wanted to forget, and what he knew he never could.

The nose piercing came on a whim. A flicker of rebellion against expectations, though no one had any for him anymore.

The monotony of construction work became his new routine. It was predictable. Safe, in a way. Until one Monday, the foreman sent him to pick up the crew’s lunch order, a task usually assigned to Stephen, who was out sick. A small errand, a minor inconvenience.

He didn’t expect it to change anything. But then again, nothing ever went as planned.

----

The bell above the door jingled softly as Bucky stepped inside. The smell hit him first: fresh bread, sugar, and butter mingling in the warm air. It was... comforting. He blinked, adjusting his eyes to the dimmer light of the bakery after the bright glare of the sun outside.

The place was small but welcoming, with neatly arranged baskets of bread on shelves and a glass display case showcasing pastries that looked too delicate for his rough hands. He pulled off the working gloves he’d forgotten he was still wearing, shoving them into the back pocket of his worn jeans. His vibranium fingers glinted faintly in the soft light, but he didn’t care who noticed.

Behind the counter, she looked up from where she was restocking some pastries, offering a bright smile the moment she saw him. “Hi there! What can I get for you?”

He froze for half a second. People didn’t usually smile at him like that. Don’t usually smile at him at all. Period. He cleared his throat and glanced around, suddenly unsure of how to navigate this. “I’m here for the construction crew’s order.”

She wiped her hands on her apron and nodded. “Right, the sandwiches,” she said, moving behind the counter to grab the large paper bag already packed and ready. “Stephen’s usual pick-up, huh? I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”

“No,” he muttered, keeping his gaze on the countertop. “He’s out sick. They sent me instead.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you,” she said, sliding the bag onto the counter. “You’re working on that new apartment building, right?” Her tone was bright and conversational. “Big project”

He nodded, unsure of how to respond. People avoided small talk with him, and he was usually glad. His appearance purposely did much of the trick but she was treating him like a normal customer, with no hesitation, and he didn’t know what to make of it.

“Do you want anything for yourself?” she asked suddenly, leaning her hands on the counter. “Coffee, maybe a juice? It’s on the house for you guys, you are spiking out incomes.” She winked.

He blinked, caught off guard. “No. I’m fine.”

Her smile didn’t waver. If anything, it softened, like she could sense his discomfort but didn’t want to make a big deal of it. “You sure? You look like you’ve been out in the sun all day. Hydration’s important, you know.”

His lips twitched, almost a smile, though he didn’t let it form. “I’m fine,” he repeated, less harsh this time.

“Alright,” she said, stepping back with a small shrug. “If you change your mind, let me know. No rush.”

That threw him even more. No rush. No expectation for him to hurry up and leave. He picked up the bag, mumbling a gruff, “Thanks,” before turning to go.

But something made him glance back before stepping outside.

Fuck it. He wanted juice, and she offered. Also, she was nice to look at. “Actually, yeah. I could drink some juice before heading back if the offer’s still on,” he half-smiled.

Her head tilted slightly, and a playful look flashed in her eyes. “Of course! What kind of juice do you like? Orange, apple, maybe something else?”

He hesitated, scratching the back of his neck with his metal hand. The hoop in his nose glinted under the bakery’s light as he shifted slightly. “Uh… orange?”

She set the bottle in front of him. “There you go.

He nodded, twisting the cap off and taking a sip. The cold, tangy juice was a welcomed sharp contrast to the sweltering heat outside, and he found himself relaxing just a fraction.

“You guys must be working like crazy out there in this heat,” she said, crossing her arms and leaning casually on the counter. “I mean, you’re probably used to it, but still, it can’t be fun.”

“It’s work,” Bucky replied simply, glancing at her. He expected her to press and ask more questions, but instead, she nodded like she understood.

“Well, here’s hoping Stephen feels better soon,” she said, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. “But if they send you back, I wouldn’t mind. You’re a lot less grumpy than him.”

That caught him off guard, and his lips twitched into the faintest ghost of a grin. “I’ll let him know you said that.”

Her eyes widened in mock horror, and she let out a warm, easy laugh. “Oh, no, don’t you dare! I can’t handle more of his attitude. He’s bad enough already.”

Bucky tilted his head, leaning one elbow on the counter, the edge of a smirk ghosting across his face. “Maybe you could persuade me to stay silent,” he said, dropping his voice slightly.

She froze for half a second, her brows shooting up as the teasing in her expression turned to something a bit more curious. Then she leaned forward, resting her hands on the counter, playfully. “Oh, really? And what exactly would that take?”

Shit. His brain stalled. He could feel the weight of her gaze, the way she was waiting for him to respond. His mouth opened, then closed again, his thoughts scrambling for something -anything- that wouldn’t sound like the mess of half-baked flirting swirling in his head. Finally, he muttered, “Uh… garlic bread. That might do the trick.”

The corner of her mouth twitched, and for a second, she just stared at him like she was trying to decide if he was serious. Then, she burst into laughter again, her head tilting back slightly as the sound filled the space between them. “Garlic bread, huh? That’s the bribe of choice?”

He ducked his head, rubbing the back of his neck as the tips of his ears burned, pretending to fuss with the juice bottle. Yeah, maybe he really did need to work on his social skills.

The thing was, he usually didn’t have problems getting laid. A bold woman with a venturous streak might approach him at a bar or whatever dimly lit hole-in-the-wall he happened to be in, probably looking for an anecdote to share later: I hooked up with the Winter Soldier. And he didn’t care. He wasn’t a monk. If a touch on the arm, a whispered suggestion, or a couple of drinks got him laid, he went with it. The bar’s bathroom, a dark alley, it didn’t matter. It was impersonal, and mechanical.

Was he a manwhore? Probably. But after everything they did to him, every time his body had been used for someone else’s agenda, he couldn’t be bothered to care anymore. Sex, when it happened, was more transaction than connection. An itch scratched, and nothing more.

This was different. This wasn’t the haze of dim lights and alcohol. It wasn’t the brazen touch of someone who wanted something from him in a questionable pub. It was broad daylight, with no pretense, and she wasn’t throwing herself at him or giving him a shortcut to the finish line. She was throwing the ball back in his court, expecting him to make an effort, to do the work.

And his brain? It shut down. Completely.

He stared at her, watching the way her laughter softened into a teasing smile, and her hands rested lightly on the counter as if she didn’t realize she’d just short-circuited every social skill he thought he had left. She wasn’t avoiding his gaze or putting on a mask of bravery. If anything, she was waiting. Waiting for him to say something, to do something.

Instead, he just stood there like an idiot, gripping the juice bottle like a lifeline. Luckily -or not- the bell above the door jingled, cutting through the charged silence as another customer entered.

Her eyes flicked to the door, and her expression shifted quickly. “Duty calls,” she said lightly, tilting her head toward the counter as if to excuse herself. And just like that, she was gone, leaving him standing there like a misplaced piece of furniture near the small counter where the juice bottles were displayed.

The man who walked in looked like he belonged somewhere with air conditioning and private elevators. His tailored suit practically screamed money, and the glossy sheen of his expensive shoes didn’t have so much as a speck of dust on them. He pivoted past Bucky without sparing him a second glance, as if he didn’t even register the scruffy guy in worn jeans and a tank top standing there.

“Muffin,” the man greeted her with a tone that was just a hair too familiar.

Bucky noticed the subtle shift in her body language instantly. The confidence she’d carried moments ago was gone, replaced by stiffness in her shoulders and a forced smile on her face. “Good afternoon, Matt,” she replied, politely but devoid of warmth. “The usual?”

‘Matt’ smiled -a smarmy, self-satisfied smirk that made Bucky’s fingers tighten on the juice. “I’d add your delicious buns, but usually…”

Wait. Was this asshole actually implying-?

Her response was immediate, cutting him off before he could finish. “Yeah, as per usual, they’re not for sale,” she said, deflecting with a practiced ease. “Anything else, Matt?”

“I’ve been thinking, Muffin,” he drawled, leaning casually on the counter like he owned the place. “Maybe one of these days, you and I could share a coffee. I’m sure there’s more to you than just your delicious baking skills.” He smirked, trailing his eyes just a little too long to be anything but suggestive.

Something in Bucky snapped. Maybe it was the fact that she was uncomfortable, or perhaps because he was -horrendously- flirting with her first, maybe it was his stupid confidence, the heat, or just his crappy week. So he stepped forward, slow and deliberate. “Hey,” he said in a low tone, looking directly at the man in a suit. “You holding up the line or something?”

Matt blinked, caught off guard by the interruption. His eyes flicked to Bucky, narrowing slightly as he took in the scruffy man standing there, all broad shoulders and quiet menace. “Excuse me?”

Bucky tilted his head slightly, and his gaze became cold and unwavering. “Just saying, some of us have places to be. Thought maybe you’d want to keep it moving.”

Matt scoffed, straightening his tie like it would help him regain some sense of control. “Maybe you should mind your own business, pal,”

Bucky didn’t even blink. His tone didn’t rise, didn’t waver, but the edge on it sharpened. “See, that’s the thing. You embarrassing yourself in front of the clerk here is my business since I’ve got an order to pick up, and you’re wasting my time.”

The room felt smaller somehow, the tension thickened the air as Matt stared at him, clearly debating whether or not to push his luck.

Bucky just stood there, unflinching, with the hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth like he was daring him to try.

“Fine,” Matt muttered, grabbing his order from the counter with a sharp motion. He threw a glance at her, his tone clipped. “I’ll see you around, Muffin.”

“Sure thing, Matt.”

The bell jingled sharply as he stormed out, leaving the tension lingering in the air like a bad aftertaste.

Bucky turned his gaze to her, and his expression softened slightly. “Sorry if I overstepped,” he said gruffly, holding her gaze for a moment longer than he intended.

She exhaled, easing the tightness in her shoulders as she offered him a small smile. “Don’t apologize. He’s been like that for years; he is the owner’s cousin.” Then, with a hint of humor, she added, “Thank you. That was... satisfying to watch.”

“Glad to be of service,” he said, dryly but with the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Now I can brag I’ve been saved by the Winter Soldier,” she teased, playfully.

He froze, and the smirk vanished instantly as his eyes darted to hers, startled. “What?”.

She shrugged, utterly unbothered by his reaction. “It’s hard not to notice. You’re not exactly hiding it.” She said, looking towards his vibranium arm. Then she nodded toward his shoulder, where the red star tattoo was starkly visible against his skin. “Nice touch, by the way.”

He blinked, caught off guard. Well, yes, he’d never intended to hide it. Hell, he wanted people to see it. But hearing her point it out so openly about that, caught him off guard. “Thanks,” he muttered, in almost a grumble, absently brushing his hand over his foreshoulder.

He shifted the bag of sandwiches in his grip, glancing toward the door. “I should probably get back,” he commented gruffly, as the air suddenly felt too tight for him.

“Of course,” she said, stepping back to give him room. “Wouldn’t want you getting stuck saving anyone else today.”

That earned her a faint twitch of his lips, though it wasn’t quite a smile. “See you around,” he muttered, already heading for the door.

-----

The rest of the week passed uneventfully. She served the usual customers, greeted the familiar faces, and kept herself busy with the daily rush. But in the quiet moments when she was restocking shelves or wiping down the counter, her thoughts drifted to him. He was barely recognizable under the layers of tattoos, the nose piercing, and the rough, scruffy demeanor. Nothing like the man she vaguely remembered seeing on TV years ago. Yet, the arm was unmistakable.

She found herself daydreaming about their brief encounter more than once, imagining the sharp blue of his eyes focused on her, like a storm always brewing just beneath the surface.

---

By Thursday, Bucky couldn’t resist the pull. He’d spent most of his life denying himself anything remotely indulgent, always practical, always keeping his head down. But this time, he decided he could allow himself a little something, a treat from the bakery.

Well, if he was being honest, it wasn’t really about the pastries. The thought of seeing her again crossed his mind more than he cared to admit. There was something about the way she spoke to him, the way she smiled like he was just another guy standing at her counter, not a former assassin with blood on his hands. It unnerved him, but it also intrigued him.

The bell above the door jingled as he stepped inside. She was at the counter, chatting with a customer who was just leaving. When she glanced up and saw him, her expression brightened.

He felt his chest tighten slightly at the sight. Damn it, what the hell was he even doing here?

“Hi! Already coming to collect your bribe?” she teased, her tone laced with playful mischief, a brow arched as she leaned her elbows on the counter.

For a moment, Bucky just stared, caught off guard. Right. The garlic bread. His pathetic excuse at flirting. He shifted his weight while his mind scrambled for something to say that wouldn’t make him sound like a complete idiot. Manning up, he found his voice.

“Yeah,” he said in a lower, rougher tone. “Came to collect what’s mine.” He let the words hung in the air, deliberately, with unmistakable implication.

Her eyes widened slightly, but not with hesitation. No, she didn’t back down. Instead, she quirked a brow, twitching her lips like she was fighting back a smirk. “Well,” she began, “I was just about to take my break. Perhaps…” She leaned forward just slightly, resting her forearms on the counter, “we can discuss the terms of your payment in the back? You know, the bread and... whatever you have in mind to assure your cooperation.”

For a moment, he froze, caught completely off guard. There was no way he was reading this wrong. Was there?

She tilted her head, waiting, the amusement flickered in her eyes as if daring him to make the next move.

Bucky cleared his throat, suddenly hyper-aware of every inch of himself and his surroundings. The way his fingers gripped the edge of the counter, how his tanktop clung to his sweated skin, the hum of the refrigerator behind him, even the faint scent of her perfume mingling with the bakery air. “That so?” he managed, trying to sound unfazed, though he wasn’t sure he pulled it off entirely.

Her half smile widened, and she straightened, grabbing a small set of keys from behind the counter. “It is,” she replied simply. “Back door’s that way.” She gestured toward the far end of the shop, where a narrow hallway led to what he assumed was the staff area.

He hesitated, trying to gauge if this was really happening or if she was just messing with him. But there was no sign of mockery, no indication she was about to laugh at his expense. Instead, she turned and walked toward the back, throwing him a glance over her shoulder that felt like a challenge.

His legs moved before his brain could catch up, following her lead. Whatever was about to happen, he figured he’d see it through.

After the door closed behind him with a soft click, Bucky became painfully aware of the contrast between them. She stood there in her neat uniform, the pale beige fabric brushing just above her knees, paired with the frilly brown apron tied snugly around her waist. Her scent hit him, something warm and sweet, like vanilla and sugar, mingling faintly with a subtle hint of floral perfume.

And then there was him. Sweaty from the day’s work, his tank top clinging in spots, jeans dusty from the site, boots worn and scuffed. His hair was slightly damp from the heat, sticking to his neck in unruly strands, and the only thing remotely clean were his hands. He always made a point of washing them before leaving work, some ingrained habit of not wanting to spread the grime of his life any more than necessary.

He stood there, awkwardly shifting his weight as she set the keys on a small table by the wall, looking entirely at ease, like this wasn’t strange at all. Meanwhile, his heart was thudding against his ribs, and for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why she wasn’t fazed by the walking disaster in front of her.

“So,” she began, leaning against the edge of a small table, crossing her arms over her chest. Her tone was light and playful. “Shall we discuss the terms of your so-called payment?”

He cleared his throat. “You sure about this?” he muttered, gesturing vaguely to himself. She tilted her head, and a spark of amusement flashed across her face. “You mean to tell me you braved the heat, the dust, and possibly your dignity to come in here, and now you’re getting shy?”

His lips twitched despite himself, and the ghost of a smirk formed on his lips. “Not shy. Just... considerate.”

Her laugh was soft but genuine. “Well, aren’t you a gentleman,” she teased. “But if I had a problem with the way you look, I wouldn’t have let you back here, now would I?”

That threw him for a loop, and he found himself momentarily speechless, a rare occurrence. He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing to the side as if searching for something to say. “Guess not,” he finally muttered.

“Good,” she said, pushing off the table and stepping closer. “Because I don’t mind sweaty construction workers who like garlic bread.”

He blinked, caught somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. “That right?”

She nodded. “That’s right. Now, tell me. What’s the real reason you came back here?”

Her boldness disarmed him, but in a way that made him want to keep going, to see where this would lead. “Figured I’d try my luck,” he admitted, meeting her gaze.

“Well,” she said, softening her tone “seems like your luck might not be so bad after all.”

The way she looked at him then, confident, like she saw right through him and wasn’t the least bit fazed left Bucky feeling more exposed than any of his tattoos or scars ever could. He wasn’t used to this, to someone holding his gaze without hesitation, without fear or judgment. It stirred something deep in his chest, something uncomfortable and unfamiliar.

“Guess not,” he muttered, rougher than he intended, and he stepped closer without even realizing it. She didn’t back away.

She tilted her head, a playful quirk to her brow. “So, does this mean we’re negotiating now? Or are you just going to keep brooding at me until I hand over the garlic bread?”

That pulled a chuckle out of him, low and brief, but genuine. “You don’t quit, do you?”

“Not when it comes to getting what I want,” she said simply.

Bucky’s gaze flicked to her mouth for half a second before he caught himself and looked away, focusing on a random spot on the wall instead. “You’re bold,” he muttered, almost to himself.

“Hmmm I’d say you like that,” she countered, her tone light but her eyes sharp, like she was testing him.

And she wasn’t wrong. He did like it. Maybe too much. It was the kind of boldness he wasn’t used to anymore, the kind that didn’t come with an ulterior motive or veiled fear. It was just... her, and for reasons he couldn’t explain, it had him drawn in like a moth to a flame.

“Maybe,” he admitted.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence wasn’t awkward. She didn’t look away, didn’t fidget or try to fill the gap with empty chatter. She just waited, giving him space to make the next move.

“I’m not good at this,” he finally said.

“At what?” she asked like she could sense he wasn’t just talking about their little back-and-forth.

“Any of it,” he said, gesturing vaguely between them. “Talking. People. This.”

Her lips curved into a small, understanding smile. “Lucky for you, I don’t need you to be good at anything. Just honest.”

His hand came up to rub the back of his neck, a nervous habit he hadn’t quite shaken.

“Well,” she said after a beat, stepping just a little closer, “if it helps, I think you’re doing fine so far.”

Bucky's gaze dropped to her lips, lingering there a little longer than he should have. The temptation to lean in, to close the distance was maddening and he swallowed hard.

Her voice cut through his thoughts, teasing and sharp. “Deciding your price?”

His eyes snapped back to hers. For a moment, he was thrown, like she’d read his mind and decided to call him out for it. Her expression wasn’t mocking, though. “Maybe I am.” the words left his mouth before he could overthink them.

She leaned a little closer, just enough to shrink the space between them. “And? What’s the verdict?”

For a second, all he could do was stare at her, at the way the corner of her mouth tilted up, like she knew exactly what she was doing to him. His brain scrambled for something to say, anything that didn’t make him sound like an idiot.

“You’re making it hard to think,” he admitted finally, a dry edge to his tone that made her laugh softly.

“Good,” she shot back, tilting her head. “Means I’m doing my part in this negotiation. And you still haven’t named your price,” she said, dropping her voice just a fraction.

That did something to him, something that made his chest tighten and his palms itch. She was bold, fearless, not afraid to meet him where he was. Hell, maybe even a step ahead of him.

“Maybe it’s not something I can name,” he muttered, almost testing the waters as he took a slow step closer to her.

Her eyes flicked up to meet his, and the playful glint in them softened. She didn’t move back, didn’t shy away. Instead, she held her ground. “Oh?” she murmured, her gaze never leaving his. “Then how are we supposed to settle this… negotiation?”

Bucky tilted his head slightly, “I guess that depends on what you’re willing to offer.” he said, noting neither of them was willing to break the tension first.

Her answer came in the form of a step forward, closing the remaining gap between them. She tilted her up, and her voice dropped as she said, “I think you’re the one who needs to make the offer. After all, you’re the one collecting a bribe.”

That knocked him off balance for a fraction of a second, and he just stared at her.

Her laugh was soft, almost a hum, as she leaned back slightly, one hand coming to rest on her hip. “You don’t seem like the type to play coy,” she teased.

He felt the heat crawl up the back of his neck, though he forced himself to hold her gaze. “I’m not.”

"So?" she asked, flicking her gaze to his lips, her tone was challenging but soft, like she already knew the answer and just wanted to hear him say it.

That did it. His resolve snapped like a taut wire. Slowly, deliberately, he cradled the side of her neck with his vibranium hand, firm but careful, while his other hand slid to the small of her back, pulling her closer.

"So," he murmured against her lips, his voice low and rough, "I think I'll just take the rest of my payment. And then... maybe some more."

He closed the remaining distance, capturing her lips in a kiss that was neither tentative nor tender. It was demanding and unapologetic. Everything he couldn’t say in words poured into the connection.

She let out a small gasp, and her hands instinctively found their way to his chest clutching his tanktop. He took that as permission, deepening the kiss. The faint scent of flour and sugar mixed with something distinctly hers, made him a little dizzy, a little reckless. And for once, he let himself take what he wanted.

When he finally pulled back, resting his forehead lightly against hers, he caught the sight of her lips, slightly swollen, and her uneven breathing as she looked up at him. He wondered if he should stop there.

Then she did it. Her hand slid upward, fingers threading through his hair before fisting it lightly, pulling him closer with a confidence that sent a spark down his spine. She pressed herself against him, soft curves meeting the unyielding hardness of his chest, and that was it, he lost it.

A low, guttural sound escaped him as he claimed her lips again, this time with less restraint. The backroom faded away. No shelves, no counter, no lingering scent of baked goods. Just her. Her body, her warmth, her lips moving against his like she was just as lost in this as he was.

When they finally broke apart, both gasping for air, her eyes were half-lidded as she stared up at him. She wetted her bottom lip. “Not bad.” she managed to breath.

“Still think I’m underpaid,” he shot back.

"Oh, I don’t take advantage of hard workers, sir," she said, low and teasing as her lips skimmed along his stubbled cheek. Her teeth nipped at the rough skin there, sending a sharp jolt through his body that went straight to his cock.

Her hands moved to the buckle of his belt, working the leather with an almost infuriating slowness, like she was daring him to stop her, or daring him not to. “By no means are you going to be left underpaid,” she murmured with mock formality as her gaze flicked up to meet his.

He couldn’t help the low chuckle that rumbled from deep in his chest. “That so?” he rasped as he let his hands slide from her waist to her hips, gripping just tight enough to feel her warmth through the thin fabric of her uniform. “You always this generous?”

Her fingers hovered just above the waistband of his lowering jeans, brushing the bare skin with a maddening lightness. Then she smiled at him, slow and deliberate. “Only with hot sergeants who gave a lot to this country.”

Something snapped. His hand darted down, grabbing hers where they lingered teasing his skin. His fingers closed over hers. Not harsh, but firm, the rough calluses of his palm contrasting with her softness. “You shouldn’t say things like that,” he growled low in her ear, rougher now, deeper, his restraint fraying with every word.

“Why not?” she whispered, with a tone laced with defiance, though her breath hitched ever so slightly as he stepped closer.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he dipped his head, trailing slow kisses on the curve of her neck. Her breath shuddered as he worked his mouth thoroughly, and his stubble scraped along her sensitive skin. His free hand slid lower, gliding over the fabric of her uniform until it reached the curve of her ass. Without hesitation, he squeezed, digging his fingers just enough to pull her flush against him.

Her hands, now pinned between her body and his waistband, flexed slightly, testing like she was still daring him to see how far he’d go.

“You’re playing with fire,” he murmured against her neck, as he pressed her harder against him.

She tilted her head slightly, giving him more access, curling her fingers into the hem of his tank top. “Good thing I don’t scare easy,” she replied breathlessly, and his grip on her tightened, molding his vibranium hand to the curve of her ass as he pressed her harder against him.

Without breaking their connection, he moved with fluid determination, gripping her hips and spinning her so that she faced an old counter. The sudden shift elicited a breathy laugh from her, laced with surprise and excitement.

He leaned in, brushing his chest on her back as his lips found her neck again, suckling and nipping her skin. She arched instinctively pressing herself against him, bracing her hands on the surface counter. “You don’t waste time, do you?”

His flesh hand slid down her side, curving over her hip before venturing beneath the fabric of her uniform. His fingers splayed against her bare thigh, pushing the hem up inch by inch, grazing her skin with agonizing slowness.

Her breathing hitched as his hand roamed further, the metal of his fingers creating a stark contrast against her heated skin. He squeezed her again, this time directly over her bare flesh, eliciting a sharp, involuntary intake of breath.

As his hand traveled upward from her hip along her spine, her dress bunched around her waist, exposing her to him. He relished the sensation of her bare skin beneath his fingertips, trailing higher to the small of her back. Her shiver told him everything he needed to know.

Her head tilted back, her breath coming in soft, shallow gasps. “James” she whispered, half warning, half plea.

His lips curved into a smirk as he bent closer. “Bucky” he rasped, his stubble brushing her ear. “What’s it gonna be, doll? Should I stop?”

Her answer came in the way she pushed herself back against him, reaching behind to tangle her hands on his hair. He grinned darkly against her skin, sliding his hand along her back as his lips continued their descent, tasting every inch of her exposed neck and shoulder.

Bucky’s hands continued their ascent, his fingers trailing over her heated skin until they slid under the fabric of her bra. He cupped her breasts, his palms rough and warm, squeezing with a pressure that made her gasp: firm enough to send a thrill through her body, but not enough to hurt. She arched into his touch, responding instinctively, and a soft sound escaped her lips spurring him on.

“Like that, huh?” he muttered, as he pressed himself harder against her back. Her hands gripped his hair tighter for balance as he shifted closer and his solid, muscled frame blanketed hers. Then, with deliberate intent, he slid one thick thigh between her legs, pressing it firmly against her pussy. The friction made her knees weaken, and she let out a breathy moan, rolling her hips against him instinctively.

He growled low in his throat. “You’re making it real hard to keep this...civil,” he rasped, though the way his hands kneaded her and his thigh pressed against her left little room for civility.

She turned her head slightly to meet his gaze, eyes dark with need and amusement. “You know, if you keep things civil like this, I might... stain your pants. How are you going to present yourself tomorrow to work, all messy?”

Bucky froze for half a second at her words, tightening his grip on her hips as her teasing tone penetrated his brain. His gaze darkened, and the corner of his mouth quirked in a smirk that was anything but innocent.

“You think I care about that?” he murmured, roughly, sending shivers down her spine.

Her head tilted slightly, exposing the curve of her neck to him. “Mhm,” she hummed, her breath hitching when he shifted his stance, pressing her harder against him. “Just trying to save you the trouble of explaining… why your responsible worker pants are a mess.”

Bucky let out a low growl, dipping his head to her neck. His stubble scrapped deliciously against her skin as he nipped at her pulse point, making her gasp. "Luckily for you, muffin, it's been a long time since I give a fuck about other people's opinions, let alone explaining myself. So you can get my damn pants wet like the naughty girl you are to your pussy's content.

The brazen bluntness of his words sent a pang directly to her needy clit. “Oh,” she exhaled, with a trembling voice. “Is that so, Sergeant?”

He leaned in closer, as his vibranium hand tightened on her hip, grinding her harder against his thigh. “Damn right, it is,” he growled, and the deep rasp of his voice vibrated against her skin. “Now stop stalling and show me how messy you can get me.”

She let out a soft moan as she pressed harder against him, and her movements became more erratic, more needy. “You mister-” she gasped, her words catching in her throat as a wave of pleasure made her pussy clench deliciously, “are a fucking tease.”

“And yet,” he muttered, curving his lips into a wicked grin against her skin, “here you are, soaking my damn pants just like I told you to.”

Her laugh came out breathless and broken, “Cocky bastard,” she managed to say before nearing the precipice. "F-fuck, Sarge," she mewled, as her voice broke on a high, desperate pitch while her hands gripped at the counter for dear life. "I’m gonna-"

Bucky’s grip on her tightened, and his vibranium hand slid up to press flat against her tummy, anchoring her firmly against him. “Do it,” he growled into her ear, in a hot and ragged breath. “Let go for me, muffin. Make a mess, cream my fucking pants.”

Her body tensed, and her thighs trembled as she ground herself harder against his thigh, chasing that final push over the edge. “God, Bucky,” she whimpered, her head falling back against his shoulder.

“That’s it,” he rasped, his lips brushing against her ear as he coaxed her along, keeping her steady with his hands as she fell apart. "Good girl."

The sound she made was half a sob, half a moan as the tension inside her snapped, pleasure crashing through her in waves that left her gasping and shaking in his arms. She clung to the counter as her body jerked uncontrollably, and her breath came in short, desperate bursts.

He didn’t let go, keeping her firmly against him, grounding her body as she rode out every last second of her orgasm. When her movements slowed, and her body went slack against him, he pressed a soft, almost reverent kiss to the back of her neck.

“You okay?” he murmured, with a mix of roughness and softness as his hands remained firm on her hips.

She turned her head slightly, glancing at him over her shoulder with a dazed, dopey smile that made something inside him twist. “Mmm-hmm,” she hummed, languid and satisfied. “That was such a nice ride, Sarge.”

A soft squeeze at her hips reminded her where his hands still were, and she placed hers over them, giving them a light, playful press. Then, with an ease that made his pulse quicken, she turned around to face him.

Her fingers grasped the hem of his tank top, deliberate but unhurried as she tugged it upward. “But,” she said, her voice taking on a teasing lilt, “I still owe you the price of your silence.”

As she pulled his tank top up and over his head, her eyes immediately fell to his chest, and her gaze widened for a beat. The light from the room caught the silver gleam of the bars piercing through his nipples, hard to miss against the expanse of ink and scars that marked his skin.

Her lips parted slightly, and a playful grin broke across her face. “Well, aren’t you full of surprises,” she murmured teasingly. She reached out without hesitation, grazing her fingers over one of the piercings. “Naughty, Sarge. Very naughty.”

He let out a short huff of laughter. “Don’t act so shocked,” he muttered. “Thought you’d figured out by now I’m not exactly by-the-book.”

She tilted her head as she thumbed over the cool metal, sending a shiver through his body that he didn’t bother to hide. “Guess I have a lot to learn about you,” she mused, tracing her fingers over the lines of his chest, pausing now and then to admire the ink and scars.

His smirk deepened, and he tugged her closer “Plenty of time for that, Muffin.” He conceded.

Her hands roamed freely now, mapping the hard planes of his chest, alternating her touch between featherlight and deliberate. She flicked the tip of one of the piercings with her thumb, earning a sharp inhale from his lips.

“Sensitive?” she teased, glancing up to meet his gaze.

His jaw tightened, and the way his hands gripped her hips told her she’d struck a nerve. “You tell me,” he rumbled, edged with a warning that didn’t quite mask the rough undertone of arousal.

She laughed softly, a low, breathy sound that made his cock twitch. “You’re full of contradictions, Sarge. All gruff and serious, but with these…” she said, lightly tugging on one bar with a wicked grin.

“Careful,” he warned, tightening his grip as his eyes darkened.

“Or what?,” she quipped, with a sultry voice, her confidence growing with every reaction she pulled from him.

His patience snapped. In one smooth motion, he shifted, lifting her effortlessly onto the counter behind her. She gasped, bracing her hands against his shoulders as he stepped between her thighs, crowding her.

The edge of the counter bit into her legs, but she didn’t care. All that mattered was the heat between them, the way his hands gripped her.

His fingers moved to the buttons of her dress, deliberate but unhurried, each undone clasp exposing more of her soft, skin. She shivered beneath his touch, and a quiet hum escaped her lips as her hands slid down his sides, tracing the lines of his ribs before settling at his hips.

The dress slipped further down her body, pooling at her waist, leaving her exposed to his piercing gaze. His eyes darkened as they swept over the rise and fall of her chest, and the slight tremble in her thighs.

"Damn," he murmured, roughly, almost reverent.

Her cheeks heated, but she held his gaze with a playful smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "What, you don't see this every day?"

"Not like this," he growled back, deftly unhooking her bra with a kind of precision that made her blink in surprise. The garment slid down her arms, and he caught it in one hand, tossing it over his shoulder without so much as a glance. It landed somewhere behind him with a soft thud, but he didn’t care. His gaze flicked down, lingering on her newly exposed skin.

He leaned down and trailed his lips through the curve of her neck, gifting heated kisses downward her skin until his lips latched one of her nipples. His tongue flicked, quick and teasing, as his hands roamed lower, slipping beneath the hem of her uniform skirt and gripping her bare thighs.

Her hands flew to his shoulders for balance before sliding up to tangle them in his hair. Her body was already pliant, sensitive from her release, but he wasn’t slowing down. His teeth scraped lightly, sending a shock through her system, and she arched instinctively against his mouth.

"Turn around," he murmured against her skin, almost a growling. His hands gripped her hips, spinning her gently but firmly until she was braced against the counter. She barely had time to catch her breath before she felt his fingers hook into the waistband of her drenched panties, tugging them down and letting them pool at her feet.

His jeans had already been shoved low enough to free his aching cock, and she could feel it, hard and insistent, pressing against her rear. “This okay?” he rasped against her ear, as his length drenching her buttocks with precum spoke volumes about his intent.

She nodded quickly, breathlessly.

Bucky didn’t waste time and his vibranium hand gripped her hip, as his flesh one guided himself inside her in one smooth, deliberate thrust. A low, guttural groan tore from his chest as her tight heat clenched around him, and her gasp of pleasure sounded like music to his ears.

“Fuck, Muffin,” he muttered, leaning over her, breathing hot against her ear. “So tight. Feels like you’re made for my cock.”

Her knuckles whitened as she gripped the counter, instinctively pushing her body back to meet his thrusts. He set a slow, grinding pace at first, making her feel every inch of his thick cock, savoring how she trembled beneath him at every drag. One of his hands slid from her hip, trailing down her thigh before slipping between her legs.

“You’re dripping for me,” he observed roughly as his fingers found her clit. He rubbed slow, lazy circles, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. “Such a greedy pussy, doll. Pulling me in like you can’t get enough.”

She let out a breathless moan, her body arching against him as his words sent a rush of heat through her system. “Bucky-”

“That’s right,” he cut her off, almost mockingly as his fingers pressed harder against her swollen clit. “Say my name. Let me hear how much you love being fucked like this.”

Her response was a broken cry, her hips bucking against his hand as he picked up his pace. He grinned, sharp and wolfish, sliding his free hand up her back to fist her hair, pulling her head back so he could press his lips to her ear.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” he rasped, as his thrusts turned harder, sharper. “I can feel it. This pussy’s squeezing me so tight. You gonna come all over my cock, Muffin? You gonna soak me, cream my dick like the good girl you are?”

She could barely think, the pressure building inside her reaching a fever pitch as his filthy words and relentless touch unraveled her completely. Her moans grew louder, and her body trembled as her release washed over her, clenching her walls around his throbbing cock.

“Fuck,” he growled, as the sensation tipped him over the edge. His hand tightened on her hip, and his thrusts turned erratic as he followed her into bliss, spilling inside her with a low, drawn-out groan.

He stayed buried inside her for a moment, resting his forehead against her shoulder as they both caught their breath. His fingers gave her clit one last, gentle stroke, making her shudder before he finally pulled back, steadying her with his hands as her legs wobbled.

“You okay?” he asked, rough but laced with an unmistakable note of satisfaction.

She nodded, glancing at him over her shoulder with a blissed-out smile. “More than okay.”

He smirked, brushing his hand over her lower back as he stepped away. “Good. ‘Cause we’re not done yet, little Muffin.”

She turned slightly, lifting her brows in surprise as a sly grin curled her lips. “Not done yet?” she asked, breathless but laced with intrigue.

Bucky’s smirk deepened as he took her hand, gently turning her around to face him. His eyes roamed over her glistening skin, mussed hair, and the marks his lips and teeth had left trailing down her neck. He loved how wrecked she looked, and knowing it was all because of him, sent a thrill coursing through his veins.

“Not even close,” he murmured, sliding his hands to her thighs and effortlessly lifting her onto the counter.

She gasped as the cold surface met her bare skin, but it was quickly replaced by a soft moan when he stepped between her legs, spreading them wide. His cock, still hard and wet, pressed against her slick heat, teasing her entrance.

“You’ve been so good for me,” he muttered, leaning in to brush his lips against hers. “But I think you’ve got one more in you, Muffin. Don’t you?”

Her breath hitched, and she couldn’t stop herself from grinding against him, desperate for more. “You really think I can take it?” she asked, playfully.

Bucky chuckled darkly, ghosting his lips over her jawline as he pressed the head of his cock against her pussy, not pushing in just yet. “Oh, you’ll take it,” he purred, gripping her hips firmly to hold her in place. “And you’re gonna love every second of it.”

He surged forward without waiting for a reply, parting her inner wallsin one deep thrust. Her back arched, and a loud moan spilled from her lips as he set a brutal pace right from the start, holding nothing back this time.

His hands roamed over her body, one sliding up to knead a breast while the other dipped down to find her clit again. “Feel that, doll?” he growled, his voice barely more than a rasp. “Feel how perfectly you take me?”

She nodded frantically, digging her nails into his shoulders as her body rocked against him, the counter beneath her creaking slightly with the force of his movements. “F-fuck, Sarge, I-”

“You gonna come for me again?” he interrupted as he worked her clit with expert precision. “Gonna soak me like the naughty little thing you are?”

Her answer came in the form of a choked cry as her body tensed, her third climax hitting her harder than the previous ones. She tightened around him, pulling him deeper, and deeper, and he groaned low in his throat, thrusting erratically as he chased his own release.

“Goddamn, you feel so fucking good,” he growled, gripping the back of her thighs and spreading them wider as he buried himself one last time to the root, erupting in long spurts of hot cum that filled her up and overflowed between them, pooling on the floor.

For a moment, neither of them moved, their ragged breaths being the only sound in the room. Slowly, he pulled back, steadying on her hips as he helped her sit upright, locking his eyes on the mess between her legs. His jaw tensed as he drank in the sight of her pussy, utterly wrecked and glistening from everything they’d done. He reached out, parting her swollen, slick folds with his thumbs with a deliberate, almost reverent care.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered under his breath, thick with desire. “Look at you.”

Her cheeks heated, and the burn rose fast as she felt his gaze fixed on her. Her instinct was to press her thighs together, but his firm grip on her leg stopped her before she could move.

“Don’t even think about it,” he warned, brushing his vibranium thumb against her inner thigh as his other hand traced the outline of her puffy, sensitive lips. “Let me see you.”

She whimpered softly, gripping the edge of the counter to steady herself as his fingers continued to explore, brushing over her clit just enough to make her hips jerk.

“Fuck, this pretty little pussy of yours, completely ruined… because of me.”

She inhaled deeply, with embarrassment and lingering arousal. “Bucky,” she managed, her voice was barely above a whisper, a plea wrapped in his name.

He glanced up at her, quirking his lips into a cocky smirk. “What? Embarrassed?” His thumbs teased her again, pressing lightly on either side of her clit, enough to make her tremble. “Don’t be. You’re perfect. And you’re mine to mess up like this.”

His? Her thighs shook at his words, the low growl in his voice sparking something deep inside her chest.

Bucky leaned in, and his stubble grazed her inner thigh as he pressed a kiss there, lingering his lips as he muttered, “Maybe I should take a picture, so you know how fucking incredible you look right now.”

Her head fell back with a strangled, embarrassed moan. “Don’t you dare,” She protested, without much conviction.

He chuckled, finally easing up on her overstimulated nerves. Then, he pulled back, standing tall as he licked his bottom lip. “Good thing I’ve got a photographic memory. I’ll be thinking about how fucking incredible you look dripping my cum on the floor when I’m at home later, getting all needy.”

The heat on her cheeks spread down her neck and chest. “My god, Sarge, you say your prayers with that mouth?” she asked, her tone trembling with exhaustion and disbelief.

A low laugh rumbled in his chest as he pulled back to meet her gaze. “It’s been a long time since I stopped doing that,” he admitted, carrying an edge of cynicism that matched the wicked smirk tugging at his lips.

He couldn’t help but admire the sight before his eyes. Her disheveled state, the pristine uniform now wrinkled, pushed up and open, her lips swollen and glossy from everything they’d just done. For almost a second, a pang of guilt flared in his chest. Almost.

The notion of her going back to work in this state, dripping with his cum while she smiled and served customers, stirred something deliciously darker in him. The guilt was quickly overtaken by the way his cock twitched again, the lingering pull of need frustrating him as much as it excited him. He muttered a low curse under his breath.

“Here,” he said after a moment, offering his hand for her to stand up. “Let me help you look all pretty so you can carry on with your day.”

He grabbed her crumpled uniform and smoothed it down over her thighs, brushing his fingers on the soft skin under it as he worked to put her back together. When he reached her collar, he buttoned the top slowly, deliberately taking his time.

“You’re gonna walk out there,” he said, adjusting her apron with a hum of satisfaction, “looking just like you did before I got my hands on you.”

Her lips parted as if to respond, but the words didn’t come out. He leaned close, brushing his pierced nose against hers, mingling his minty breath with hers, before stepping back with a low chuckle. “So much better than the garlic bread.”

He stepped back, bending to retrieve his tank top from the floor. Without hesitation, he slipped the shirt over his head, dragging it down on the hard lines of his inked chest. When the fabric caught over his pierced nipples, he hissed through his teeth. He adjusted it with a slight tug, smoothing it over his abs, slow and deliberate, like he wasn’t in any rush to leave the moment behind.

His gaze flicked to her form and a dark glint sparked in his eyes. His tone dropped into something deeper, more dangerous, as he added, “If anyone gives you trouble...”

He paused, letting the weight of his words linger between them. “You know where to find me.” It wasn’t just a statement; it was a subtle reminder of where he worked, down at the construction site.

Before she could gather herself enough to respond, he turned on his heel and made his way to the door. As his hand rested on the handle, he glanced over his shoulder one last time, his blue eyes filled with a hint of satisfaction.

“Enjoy the rest of your shift, Muffin,” he drawled, before disappearing out the door leaving her breathless and utterly wrecked.

Dividers by: @/strangergraphics

[l0vebombing]

if each of the boys is aware of the others' existence, i can only imagine how much they'd hate the idea that someone else could have the chance to touch your body the same way they do.

sure, it'd be insanely hot to imagine fucking with all of them at the same time, of course it would, but i don't really believe there's any chance of that happening. just the mention of something like that would probably result in xavier fucking you against the window again, maybe even making you call one of your dear ‘friends’ just to make sure they know you're very much taken, even if your mind tends to wander into unconventional ideas that will never happen.

zayne would have to hold back from rolling his eyes at a suggestion like that. if you wanted someone else instead of him, he wouldn't stop you from chasing who you really loved. but sharing you, after you've already chosen him? not his style, and he'd rather believe you were just trying to get under his skin. still, that wouldn't stop him from reminding you that you shouldn't be so greedy when you can barely keep up with him alone.

rafayel would be so offended, seriously. frustrated, irritated, and all the negative feelings a person could possibly feel. he’d probably say something like, "oh, sure, let's invite a bunch of strangers to fuck my girl. because that's not at all awkward or problematic." it would definitely take you a while to calm him down. and even after apologizing, you wouldn't be off the hook— he's never been particularly rough in bed, but after such a suggestion, he'd feel compelled to show you that he's more than enough and far better than anyone else could ever be.

sylus' incredulous laugh would sweep his momentary anger under the rug, he'd rather pretend he misheard you. honestly, he'd also think you only brought it up to annoy him, because you must know he'd never agree to share you with anyone. you’d spend a good while sitting on his lap, the office door locked tightly, watching some old videos to refresh your memory as to why that idea was ridiculous. his hands would hold your wrists firmly, ensuring yours didn't wander lower than he'd allow for the next week.

suggesting that to caleb would be like asking for another decade of private captivity, without contact with anyone except him. depending on his mood at the moment, he might say he found your joke amusing— or he'd fuck the idea right out of your head. he waited so long to see you again, this time finally able to have you the way he wanted, no longer having to act like just some friend, and now you say something like that? ha. go to sleep— tomorrow's another day, and you'll have plenty of time locked inside his house to reflect on your words. but that only after the number of rounds you've gone through surpasses the number of positions you've tested.

[radioiaci]

Alastor had no real reaction to Vox's joke - though he did have some concern when the other seemed to disappear to again empty the contents of his stomach. Brow furrowed, he made a mental note - to ensure that Vox both ate something and drank an adequate amount of water once they found a better place to stay. He was becoming very keenly aware and accustomed to the other taking such poor of himself that it seemed to backfire on him frequently.

Something to remedy, maybe. Or try to.

When Vox returned, Alastor had stepped at least once or twice, cautiously over the threshold, sparing the other the briefest of sideways glances before speaking again.

"No. Just me."

The seal broken now, on entering the home, he finally began to take more gradual steps into the hall, the floorboards creaking with every step. There was no salvaging the home - half consumed by plants, mold, decay, and dust, he was not here for the bones of the place. What he was here for perhaps still lingered inside, his eyes traveling over the walls and against abandoned furniture as he turned into the first - and largest - room. A living area, still fully furnished with stuffy, decrepit items of the time, and broken through with reeds and small flowers. There were scuffle marks on the floor here or there where small animals might have nested - but it was empty now.

Against the far wall, Alastor spotted marks. Carvings into wood beams that traveled upwards, his name scrabbled against the surface next to it and worn in over the years from erosion. But one could still make out several letters.

He crouched, running his hands over the lines. Obviously meant to track his height over the years. From ages three to twelve, it seemed. She had stopped tracking once he became a teenager.

If Vox wandered, he might come across one of the other rooms. Two bedrooms - one meant for a child and one meant for an adult. Both were damaged beyond repair. Cracks in the walls leaked sunlight and anything that still hung in picture frames and up on shelves were caked in dust and grime. One photo of Alastor and his mother - a dark-skinned woman with grey streaks in otherwise tightly coiled hair, pulled up into a bun - might remain in the largest bedroom, positioned above an old desk, missing at least one leg.

Next to them in the photo would be a man, pale white with stern and icy blue eyes, his hand braced tightly against his wife's shoulder, with both of their other hands placed onto Alastor's shoulders in turn.

None of the three looked particularly happy.

Vox freed the other’s hand as he seemed to gain some confidence back- or at least curiosity. And started moving into the home. Before the other even got to the stairs though, Vox had his hand on one of the wooden railings that seemed to be firmly seated in mud, and about as sturdy as a paper straw now. He wiggled the thing back and forth. Then let go and it in no way bounced back into shape.

The tv man scooted in front of it casually- unsure of the other’s… attachment. To it being retained. This would be the second.. maybe the third time Vox broke something of Alastor’s. But the deer had yet to mention it. If he ever even found the messed up snake skeleton stashed away in the bathroom.

Thankfully he didn’t have to wonder long, because in barely another minute, Vox flinched out of his thoughts as Alastor’s foot went right through the floorboards of the porch.

Despite himself he gave a little chuckle under his breath.

“There goes the resell value.” He teased. He followed gingerly, but when the door opened, a smell of rotted wood and plants- maybe mold- along with long stagnant air drifted from the hallway. Vox suddenly was quickly reminded of his late night bathroom visit.

He struggled to swallow the urge to throw up. And succeeded.

Until Alastor sneezed—?? And made a sound like a chipmunk being stepped on. He laughed out loud, but just once until his muscles protested. Then backed out a step and moved out of sight. Emptying his already thinned out stomach again over the edge of the porch and into the bayou swamp below. He spit once, and returned to the hallway after only another half minute.

And wasting no time in pulling his pack and lighter out. But he didn’t exactly have a water bottle to get the taste out of his mouth.

“Fuckin’ell..” he mumbled again.

“You have siblings..?” He asked casually, his voice a bit hoarse again.

[saeist]

"you seriously need to stop showing up at my door at ungodly hours looking like a fucking corpse"

you walk away from the front door after opening it for your not so secret assassin boyfriend, nagumo

"hey, at least i came home alive and kicking" nagumo attempts to joke but it looks like you aren't in the mood for shits and giggles with the way you completely ignored him and headed straight to the bathroom

nagumo, despite being an absolute fucking mess, clothes bloody and all, still removed his shoes at the entrance of your apartment. a strict rule you had implemented after you had started dating

he follows you to the bathroom like a puppy that has been kicked. when he gets there, he sees you waiting by the door holding your first aid kit

this is basically a routine at this point. nagumo goes on about his day like normal and when shit hits the fan, he comes home straight to you

nagumo quietly sits on the toilet lid as he takes off his dress shirt that's now all cut and dirty. his blood or not, he throws it away to the trashcan

you let out a big sigh, opening your first aid kit. you take a second to look at nagumo, assessing his wounds for the night. a big, long slash on his chest, multiple bruises all over his abdomen and some minor cuts on his face

looks like it's gonna be a long night inside your bathroom

it's quiet in your bathroom this time around. usually by now you were scolding him to no end, talking about how he should be more extra careful next time because you hated seeing him come home like this

but tonight takes the cherry on top. you couldn't take it anymore. this slowly becoming a routine was killing you

you knew that nagumo was strong enough to handle his enemies. he wasn't in the order for nothing but sometimes you can't help but worry for him

the first order of business is to clean his wounds. you grabbed a towelette, run it under the faucet before cleaning his cuts and bruises

"wait can you count to three before you– ouch!" nagumo yelps the second the towelette is pressed over his wounds.

you kept silent and did your work. now focusing on cleaning the deep cut across his chest. he now was cursing and complaining about how it hurts

nagumo should know better that this hurts you as much as it hurts him. you absolutely can't stand the thought of him getting severely hurt mid mission or worse— dying

"y/n– babe, can you be more gentle– ow! ow! ow!" nagumo grunts as you tilt his head up so you could wipe the cuts on his face and his bruised forehead

nagumo's hands fly towards your wrists, preventing you to move further

"y/n, what's wrong with you tonight? why aren't you saying anything?" nagumo frowns, looking at you, "talk to me"

you shake his hand off of your wrist and continued working on his wounds, refusing to talk nor look at him in the eyes

when you move to clean his busted lip, nagumo hisses, jerking his head away

"fuckin' hell" he hisses, kissing his teeth in annoyance. he was slowly getting ticked off that you were giving him the silent treatment for no reason

you grab his face, forcing him to turn back to you so you could be over this. his usual playful face long gone as he scowls. he wasn't even trying to hide the fact that he was getting frustrated by you

when you press the towelette back to his lips again, this time snatches it from your hand to do it himself

"if you're just going to keep being silent then let me just tend to myself" he mutters, voice sharp with irritation

"fine. suit yourself" you snap, slamming your first aid kit shut, shoving it back into the cabinet and walked out of the bathroom with nagumo still inside

"oh, so now you start talking" nagumo retorts, watching you walk out of the bathroom

spinning around, you shot him a glare before you slamming the bathroom door shut, stomping off to your bedroom so you could go back to bed

nagumo scoffs, staring at the now closed door. clearly angered by your attitude for tonight. 'did i overdid it tonight?' he thinks to himself but he quickly shakes those thoughts away because he had no one to tend to his wounds but himself

while nagumo was still in the bathroom, you lay in bed, staring at a wall for god knows how long

you were busy thinking about nagumo and the state of his well being. yes, he is an assassin and that it's his job to kill people, but that also meant there are people out there who's also targeting him

you worry about him all the time. he's your boyfriend, of course you're going to worry. so seeing him walk through your 4 walls you call your shared home looking like that?

it was too much

the other end of your bed suddenly dips, snapping you out of your long train of thought. you didn't have to turn around to check if it was nagumo

you can't help but feel a little guilty that you just left him in your bathroom to tend himself but unfortunately for tonight, you let your emotions get to the best of you

a long arm slides over your waist, pulling you back. you feel your back hit his now bandaged chest. nagumo snakes his other arm under your head so you were now in his arms

you can feel him shift a little closer to you as he rests his head against your shoulder. his hair, damp, poking your face

"i'm sorry" he whispers, hot breath fanning the side of your face

for a moment you debated on whether or not you should stay upset at him or let him be but you are unable to resist him much longer. you feel guilty over your actions. it's not like he can control whether or not his enemies would only give him a slap on the wrist and so, you melt with his touch. you shift your whole body around to face him

nagumo looks at you tenderly. you can see the exhaustion written on his face. he then softly tucks your hair away behind your ear as you two stare at each other. basking in each other's presence. he's okay

suddenly, nagumo presses a gentle kiss on the top of your head. that was enough to start the waterworks. he's here, he's home, he's with you safe and sound

the second nagumo hears you sniffle, he immediately tips your chin up so he could see you fully

"man, i hate seeing you cry" he chuckles, wiping the stray tears that's rolling down your cheeks

"i hate you" you mumbled, "i hate seeing you come home looking like.. that"

nagumo purses his lips shut. he knows that this was hard on you. he knows that you hate seeing him all wounded. he knows that you hate his profession more than anything

"i know" he says quietly, his thumb caressing your cheek, "but it's my job"

"i know that but can you at least not come home like you're seconds away from knocking on death's door? you're going to kill me faster than you could kill your enemies" you rant, letting your emotions flow freely

nagumo sighs, resting his forehead against yours. "i'm sorry" he repeats again

hearing his voice sound like that made your chest tighten. you can also see it in his eyes, but he couldn't help it. things like this, or the aftermath of every mission is beyond his control whether he wins or not

nagumo shifts your position, pulling you closer if it was even possible. your face now buried in his neck. his free hand rubbing random shapes on your exposed skin

his own little way of comforting you and telling you that he's not going anywhere

when he feels that your breathing was starting to become steady, he pulls your duvet over both of you. it's times like this where his warmth and presence are enough to lull you to sleep

"you should go to sleep" nagumo mumbles, "i know you're tired"

you blink, looking up at him. your eyelashes tickle his neck but he doesn't mind

"i love you" you say, pulling apart ever so slightly so you could kiss him on the lips

nagumo smiles against the kiss and peppers your face with kisses

"i love you more than life" he says back, looking into your eyes. "i'll be more careful next time. i promise"

you scoff, nesting your head onto his bandaged chest as you let your eyes close

"you better or i'm killing you myself" you mumbled, slowly falling asleep

"i'd rather have that than anything else"

nagumo kisses the top of your head one last time, getting sleepier by the minute. you can feel his body relax as he dozes off with you in his arms

one thing's for certain is that despite everything, nagumo is still here, with you and you wouldn't trade that for anything in this world

[insidekatmind]

Model~Alejandro Balde

Wearning: +18,smut

Request: yes!

The music was loud, the lights dazzling, and the stage was dominated by a runway that seemed endless. You, one of Victoria's Secret models, moved with elegance and confidence, wearing lingerie that highlighted every step you took along with the iconic Victoria's Secret wings. You knew all eyes were on you, but there was one gaze you could feel without even looking.

In the front row, surrounded by celebrities and honored guests, sat Alejandro Balde, your ex. Next to him were Lamine Yamal, Hector Fort, and Robert Lewandowski, all chatting and commenting on the show. But Alejandro... he couldn’t take his eyes off you. When you stepped onto the runway, you saw him smile—a smile caught between excitement and admiration. His gaze followed you, and for a moment, it seemed like he forgot he was surrounded by people.

“Wow… did you see Y/N?” he whispered to Yamal, who chuckled. “she so hot" Alejandro continues to mutter.

“Bro, you’re drooling,” joked Hector Fort, nudging him with an elbow.

You continued walking, maintaining your professional expression, but inside you felt electrified. You knew Alejandro was watching you. He had always told you that your walk was hypnotic, and now it was clear his opinion hadn’t changed. Every step you took felt like a silent message, a reminder of what you had once shared.

When your turn ended and you left the runway, the crowd erupted in applause for you.

As the applause continued to echo in the hall, you finally stepped off the runway and made your way to the dressing room. The moment you closed the door behind you, the chaotic scene transformed into a space of tranquility.

You stood in front of the mirror, your hair slightly disheveled from the performance. As you began to fix it, the silk of your dressing gown glided across your skin, creating a delicate contrast against your elegant lingerie.

You took a deep breath, allowing yourself a moment to gather your thoughts and regain your composure. But there was a knock at your door...

You turned your gaze towards the door, slightly taken aback by the unexpected noise. "Come in," you called out, your voice a mix of curiosity and anticipation.

The doorknob turned, and the door opened to reveal Alejandro standing there. His presence filled the room, his gaze locking onto you. He closed the door behind him, the sound of the latch echoing in the quiet space.

Neither of you spoke for a few moments. The air between you was charged with tension and unspoken words.

"What are you doing here?" you ask looking at him.

Alejandro met your gaze, a mixture of determination and vulnerability in his eyes. "I had to see you," he said, his voice low and sincere. "I couldn’t watch you walk that runway and not come back here."

He took a few steps towards you, closing the distance between you. The atmosphere in the room grew even more intense, the air heavy with the weight of your shared history.

You try not to fall into his beautiful eyes, like you always have. Alejandro could see the effort you were making to keep your guard up. He knew you still felt the same as he did, but he also guessed you were holding back just as much as he was.

He took another step forward, his gaze never leaving yours. His hand reached towards you, as if to touch your face, but he withdrew it before making contact.

"Y/N," he said softly, his voice filled with a mixture of pleading and understanding. "Don't act like you don't feel this too."

"What are you talking about?" you play dumb. Alejandro sighed, a slight hint of frustration evident in his expression. He was used to playing games, but not with you.

"Don't do this," he said, his tone firm but measured. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. The connection between us is still there, whether you want to admit it or not."

He took another step forward, now standing so close that you could feel his breath on your skin. "Just look at me and tell me you don’t feel it. Try."

You bite your lip knowing you couldn't lie.Alejandro watched you bite your lip, a habit he was all too familiar with. He knew that small gesture was a sign that you were struggling to keep your emotions in check.

"You can't lie to me," he whispered, a flicker of satisfaction crossing his face. "Your body betrays you. Your mind may be trying to resist, but your actions give it away."

He took another step closer, now standing so close that you could faintly feel the heat emanate off of him. "Admit it, Y/N."

Your heart pounded in your chest as Alejandro leaned in even closer, his body almost but not quite touching yours.

"Stop fighting it," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. "Just let yourself feel what you want to feel. What we both know is true."

He reached out again, this time his hand gently cupping your chin, gently raising your gaze to meet his.

His eyes searched yours, looking for any sign that you were giving in. His thumb gently traced the contour of your jaw, his touch creating tingles on your skin.

"Please, Y/N," he whispered, his voice laced with desperation. "Just give in." He was begging now, wanting you to surrender to the attraction that still hung in the air between you.

Your mind was screaming at you to resist, to maintain your emotional distance. But your body, your very being, was responding to his presence in ways you couldn't control.

Alejandro's gaze was intense, his touch sending waves of heat through your body. You could feel your resolve crumbling, the wall you had so carefully built up was starting to crack.

His hand moved from your chin to your waist, pulling you closer so that your bodies were now brushing against each other. The space between you was almost nonexistent, the electricity between you crackling like an impending storm.

His gaze bore into yours, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Y/N," he murmured, his voice heavy with longing. "We can pretend all we want, but this," he paused, his hand tightening its grip on your waist. "this connection between us is undeniable."

He leaned in even closer, his lips hovering just millimeters from yours. You could feel his breath on your skin, warm and tantalizing.You looked at his lips and for you it was like a reminder of everything you've been through.

Alejandro observed your eyes lingering on his lips, realizing that you were reliving all the memories shared between you. He knew you were grappling with the same whirlwind of emotions that was spinning through his own mind.

He ran his thumb gently over your lower lip, almost tracing its contours. "Memories don't fade," he said softly, his voice filled with a mix of nostalgia and longing. "They linger, and we both know that what we had was real."

Your heart ached as his thumb moved across your lip. Those memories, those moments that you shared together, they were etched into your soul, impossible to ignore.

Alejandro continued, his voice even softer than before. "I can't deny that I still want you, Y/N. The past doesn't just disappear, no matter how much we wish it could."

He leaned in closer, his lips nearly touching your ear. "And deep down, I know you still want me too."Your heart ached as his thumb moved across your lip. Those memories, those moments that you shared together, they were etched into your soul, impossible to ignore.

Alejandro continued, his voice even softer than before. "I can't deny that I still want you, Y/N. The past doesn't just disappear, no matter how much we wish it could."

He leaned in closer, his lips nearly touching your ear. "And deep down, I know you still want me too."

Your eyes shut as Alejandro whispered into your ear, his words sending shivers down your spine. You knew that your breakup wasn't just about protecting your heart; it was also about protecting him from the intensity of your feelings.

But now, with him so close, with his touch against your skin, you couldn't help but want him, despite the fear of heartache that still lingered in the back of your mind.

His hand continued to rest on your waist, his grip just tight enough to pull you in closer. "Look at me," he murmured, his voice husky with desire.

You slowly opened your eyes, meeting his gaze, and it was like looking into the storm in his eyes. There was a mixture of desire, vulnerability, and determination.

His body was pressed against yours, the closeness making it impossible to ignore the raw chemistry that still existed between you.

"Just admit it, Y/N," he said once more, his voice laced with both pleading and insistence. "Admit that you still want me too."

You lick your lips "I want you" you murmur.

Your whisper was barely audible, but the effect it had on Alejandro was instantaneous. His eyes widened slightly, a mixture of relief and hunger in them. He heard the truth in your words, the honesty that you couldn't fully hold back.

"Say it again," he demanded, his voice thick with desire. "Louder this time."

"I want you," you repeated, your voice a bit louder now. The words felt like a release, escaping from your lips with a mixture of longing and hesitation.

As you spoke, Alejandro's hand moved to the small of your back, pulling you even closer until there was no space left between your bodies.

He looked down at you, his eyes dark with a mix of raw desire and an almost primal need. His voice was low, filled with a hint of ragged breath. "That's what I wanted to hear."

He cupped your face with both hands, his thumbs gently tracing the edges of your jawline. "I've missed you," he muttered, his gaze intently fixed on yours.

The confession sent a pang through your heart. You had missed him too, more than you wanted to admit. But still, there was doubt lingering in the back of your mind. You couldn't shake the fear of being hurt again.

Alejandro must have sensed your hesitation because he leaned in, placing his forehead against yours. "Please," he whispered, his voice heavy with pleading. "Don't deny us this."You knew he was right, you were hurting yourself by separating from him. You hug him, leaning against him.

As you embraced him, your body pressing into his, Alejandro's arms encircled you completely, as if he was afraid to let go. He buried his face into your hair, inhaling your scent and relishing the feeling of you against him.

His grip tightened slightly, almost as if he was afraid you'd pull away from him again. "Don't leave," he murmured against your hair. "Please, don't leave me again."

“I promise,” you whisper and kiss him softly. Your declaration, a gentle whisper filled with promise, washed over him like a wave of relief. It was a promise he hoped to hold onto tight. As your lips touched his in a soft kiss, Alejandro's arms tightened around you further, pulling you impossibly closer. He returned the kiss, the touch of your lips on his own making his heart race like it had never raced before. He savored the kiss, his tongue gently coaxing yours, as if to remind himself that this moment was real, that you were really there, that he wasn’t dreaming, that you weren’t going anywhere anymore.

After what felt like an eternity, the kiss ended, but neither of you moved away. Your bodies were still closely pressed together, the silence in the room filled with the sound of your quiet breaths.

Alejandro pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you, to really look at you. His gaze lingered on your face, as if he was trying to memorize every detail, every curve. His fingers gently caressed your cheeks, and his voice was low when he spoke. “I’m not letting you go this time."

The determination in his voice was undeniable, as was the desire in his eyes. He looked at you as if you were the most precious thing he'd ever held, and you knew that he was serious.

"Not again," he continued, his fingers tracing the line of your neck. "We belong together, Y/N. We always have, and we always will."

As he spoke, he leaned in, his lips gently brushing the sensitive skin of your neck. The touch was light, but the heat of it sent shivers down your spine. He continued to trail soft kisses along your neck, his hands sliding down your waist to the curve of your hips, pulling you even closer against him.

The room seemed smaller now, the world outside fading into insignificance as his lips moved against your skin. His body was hard against yours, the evidence of his desire pressing into you. He inhaled deeply, as if trying to pull your scent into his very being.One of his hands moved from your hip, slowly sliding under the material of your robe to the bare skin of your back. The touch was almost reverent, as if he was tracing a sacred line across your body. His fingertips traced gentle, invisible patterns on your skin, causing goosebumps to appear in their wake.

The room was silent, the world outside completely forgotten as Alejandro's touch continued to explore your body with a mixture of tenderness and urgency. He was trying to commit you to memory, his lips kissing every part of you they could reach while his hands seemed to learn you anew.

Alejandro gently took off your coat leaving you only in your underwear. As the robe pooled at your feet, Alejandro’s eyes took in the sight of you in your lingerie. He breathed in sharply, his gaze roving over every curve and contour. His touch was gentle, a soft caress down your sides, as if he was afraid he might shatter you.

“You're even more beautiful than I remember,” he murmured, his voice slightly strained from the effort of holding himself back.

He pulled you back into his arms, his skin against yours, creating a delicious friction. His hands were now on your waist, pulling you tight against him, leaving no space between you. He could feel the heat of your body against his, the way your hips fit perfectly against his own.

You make little sweet sighs when Alejandro plays with your underwear taking it off.The little sounds you make as he slowly peels away the fabric of your underwear drive him crazy, each soft sigh adding fuel to the fire that's already raging inside him. He takes his time, his movements almost agonizingly slow, as if he's savoring every moment.

“You’re driving me insane,” he mutters, his voice thick with desire. He continues to caress your skin, his fingers feather-light on your hipbones.

As he gently guides you onto the makeup desk, the cool surface a stark contrast to the heat between you, he looks down at you. Your eyes are wide, your breath coming in shallow pants as you anticipate his next move.

Alejandro stands between your legs, his hands on your thighs, his gaze fixed on yours. He leans in, his body towering over you, and whispers, “Just lay back and relax.”

Alejandro lowers his head and licks a stripe in your folds.You let out a shudder as his tongue makes contact with your folds, leaving behind a trail of heat that courses all the way up your spine. Your hand unconsciously clenches the edge of the table, your body instinctively arching towards him.

He smiles at your reaction, his gaze flicking up to yours. "You're so responsive," he murmurs, his breath hot on your sensitive skin.

Then, his head dips back down and he starts to feast. His tongue works you slowly, methodically, alternating between broad, flat strokes and flicks that make you moan. Every movement is calculated, designed to drive you wild. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and he's enjoying every second of it. You can feel how much he wants you, how much he needs you. He sucks and licks and nips, his hands moving to your thighs to push your legs even wider apart, giving him better access. You’re starting to writhe on the table, your hands gripping whatever they can find to hold onto.

“You taste so good,” he whispers, his voice rough and full of need. “I can’t get enough of you.”

He keeps going, his tongue working you like it knows exactly what you need. Every touch of his sends waves of pleasure through your body

Alejandro licks harder and sucks your pussy like a man who hasn't eaten in days. You pull his hair. "Ale" you moan.His name is a moan that escapes your lips, a desperate plea for more. He looks up from between your legs, his eyes dark and intense. The sight of you, coming apart under his touch, only makes him want you more.

“You keep saying my name like that,” he grunts, his voice thick with desire. “It's driving me crazy.”

He dives back in, his tongue picking up the pace, harder and faster, as if he can’t get enough. His hands are on your legs, holding you steady.You moan feeling his tongue so skilled that it gave you pleasure. "Fuck so good" you whimper with pleasure.

Your words spur him on, his own desire burning inside him like a wildfire. He loves having you at his mercy, loves seeing you dissolve under his touch.

"That's it," he murmurs, his voice low and huskier than ever before. "Just let go. Let me hear you."

He knows exactly how to bring you to the brink, how to keep you there right on the precipice of ecstasy and agony. Every movement of his tongue is calculated to drive you wild, every touch sending little sparks of pleasure through your body.

Your hips start to move involuntarily, meeting his mouth with each movement. “Look at you,” he murmurs, his lips close to your skin.

“You look so beautiful like this. Falling apart under my tongue.”

You can feel yourself getting closer to the edge, your body taut like a bowstring, the pleasure building and building. His hands on your thighs only served to anchor you to reality, to keep you from completely spiralling out of control.

“Come for me,” he whispers, his hot breath on your skin.

“I want to see you lose control.”The words are barely out of his mouth before he returns to you, his tongue working you with even more fervor than before. He’s relentless, focused on bringing you to your peak with a single-minded determination. You’re so close now, teetering on the edge, and he won’t let up until he gets what he wants.

Your body can’t take much more, every touch sending you closer and closer to the precipice. Your fingers grip his hair, holding onto him like a lifeline, anchoring yourself to him as the pleasure threatens to overwhelm you completely.

“Please,” you gasp, “Please, Alejandro, I can’t… I can’t take any more…“

He responds with a satisfied hum, his lips against your skin. “Yes, you can,” he murmurs, his voice rough. “Just a little further. Let go. I’ve got you."

At his words, your body finally gives in, the pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave. You cry out, a hoarse moan that seems to echo through the room. Your body trembles, your muscles clenching as the orgasm washes over you. And throughout it all, his lips remain on you, slowing down just enough to bring you down from your high.

When you finally come back to reality, you look down to see him watching you with a satisfied smile.

“You’re beautiful when you come,” he murmurs, his voice still thick with desire. “I could watch you do that for hours.”

He looks as wild as you feel, his hair tousled from your hands, his lips slick and shiny. But there’s a fire in his eyes that tells you he’s far from done with you yet.

He moves up your body, bracing his forearms on either side of you, effectively trapping you between his strong arms. As he lifts himself above you, his gaze is still fixed on you, his expression one of pure hunger.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he asks, his voice low and rough as his hips come to rest between your legs.

Your body is still coming down from the high, your skin sensitive to every touch. But you can feel him there, hard and eager against you. His gaze bores into you, his desire for you clear and unguarded. You can see the way he fights to hold himself back, to take this slow even though everything in him just wants to take you right now.

“I tried to be patient, to give you space,” he mutters, his lips against your throat. “But I can’t wait anymore. I need you too damn much.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, his need for you as palpable as his touch. You can feel his restraint slipping, his body tense as he holds himself back.

He moves closer, his chest pressed against yours, his breath hot in your ear. “I was going crazy without you,” he admits, one of his hands moving to your hip. “Thinking about you every day, wanting you every night…”

You gently caress his face. Your fingers tracing the sharp lines of his face cause his eyes to flutter closed for a moment. He leans into your touch, his body almost melting against you.

The simple act seems to release some of the tension in him, like he’s been waiting for this contact for days. He lets out a low sigh, his breath warm against your skin.“That feels good,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “Your hands on my skin..."

He moves a little, his body settling more heavily on yours, his weight pressing you down into the cool surface of the desk. You can feel every hard muscle, every line of his body, and it makes you want to pull him even closer, to hold him as close as humanly possible.

His head dips down, his lips seeking out the sensitive spot just below your ear. He places a gentle kiss there, his tongue tracing a delicate line down your neck.

“No one touches me like you do,” he mutters, his lips against your skin. “No one makes me feel like you do.”

His words send a jolt through you, a reminder of the power you have over him, how much he needs this, needs you. The realization makes your heart clench, desire heating up inside you even more.

"No one" you confirm softly.He lifts his head then, looking down at you with an intensity that makes your breath catch.

“No one,” he repeats, his eyes roaming over your face. “Not since the day I met you. You’ve ruined me.”As if to emphasize his point, he presses his hips more firmly against yours, the hard length of him rubbing against you.

You moan as you feel his hardness rubbing against your exposed pussy "Ale" you moan.Your moans are like fuel on the fire, sending his desire spiraling even higher. He groans, his fingers gripping your hips tighter as he rocks against you.

“God, you drive me crazy,” he mutters, his voice ragged. “Hearing you like this, feeling you like this… It’s too much.”

"get naked, I want you inside me now" you moan wetting his pants with your excitement.The sound of your words, the needy tone of your voice, almost snaps the last bit of his self-restraint.

“Anything you want, baby,” he whispers, his lips against your ear. “Just… give me a second.”

He pulls back reluctantly, his grip on your hips loosening. He stands between your legs, his hands moving to the buttons of his shirt.

Alejandro quickly undresses and enters you making you moan "fuck so good" you murmur.

The moment he’s inside you, it feels like something falls into place, the missing piece of a puzzle.

"Oh, god," he groans, his head dropping forward, his forehead resting against yours. "You feel so good."

He starts to move then, the slow, even pace setting a rhythm that’s driving you both wild. The only sound in the room is the smack of his skin against yours, the little gasps and moans escaping your lips as you cling to each other. His hands are on you, roaming over your body, touching every piece of you he can reach.

“I’ve been thinking about this for days,” he mutters, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “Dreamed about you, wanted you so bad…“

He’s losing control more with every passing second, his hips moving faster against you, his breaths coming shorter and shorter.

“You’re so beautiful, so perfect…” he murmurs, the words torn from him like a confession. “I… I don’t think I can last much longer…”

"me too Baby, I'm coming again" you moan taking his face and kissing him.Your words and the feel of your lips on his send him over the edge.

“Come with me…” he husks, his fingers tangling in your hair. “I need you to come with me…”

He kisses you then, fiercely, as if he need to taste you and feel you to survive. His body moves faster, harder, each stroke bringing you both closer to the brink of ecstasy.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers, his lips against your ear. “Just let go. Just let go for me…”

Your legs are shaking and you come moaning his name. Your body tenses as the orgasm washes over you, your breath catching in your throat as you cry out his name. The sound of it on your lips does something to him, pushes him over the edge.

“Oh, god…“ he groans, burying his face in your neck. “You… you make me…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence, his words dissolving into a soft curse as he follows you over the edge, his body trembling

You stay like that for a moment, wrapped around each other as you both try to catch your breath. The room is quiet, the only sound your uneven breathing and the sound of your heartbeats.

He’s still braced above you, his body pressed against yours, his arms shaking slightly from the effort of holding himself up. He’s nuzzling your neck, his lips placing gentle kisses wherever they can reach.

You sigh contentedly and stroke his hair "I missed you" He hums in satisfaction, his body relaxing into your touch. “You have no idea how much I missed you,” he mutters, his lips still against your skin.

He lifts his head a bit then, just enough to look at you. His eyes are half-lidded, his expression a mix of contentment and satisfaction.

“I’ve been going crazy without you,” he admits quietly. “Every day felt like an eternity.”

"Nothing and no one will separate us Ale" you whisper.His arms tighten around you at your words, a shudder running through his body like he’s been hit by an electric current.

“Promise me,” he mutters, his voice thick with emotion. “Promise me that, no matter what happens, we’ll always find our way back to each other.”

"I promise baby".He lets out a shaky breath, his body visibly relaxing at your promise.

“Good,” he mutters, his fingers drawing lazy patterns on your back. “Because I couldn’t bear to lose you again. I don’t think I’d survive it.”

He’s silent for a moment, just holding you close, his heart beating steadily against your cheek. But then he lets out a soft sigh, as if some lingering worry has been lifted off his shoulders.

“I know it’s going to be hard,” he murmurs, his voice quiet. “But we’ll make it work. I’m not letting you go, not ever again.”

[rieamena]

two plus two equals six

nerd!takuma ino & popular-ish!fem!reader

contains... both of you being absolute losers and incredibly embarrassing. that's about it.

word count: 9.4k (its been a while since i've written something this long...)

riea's comments: it's been a terrible couple of days but this idea really stayed in my head and i really had to act on it. idk if its one of my best works but i still like it! i will prove my spot as the mayor of takuma city!!!

technically, you weren't supposed to bother him. something about threatening a restraining order but a threat is really just empty words, amiright?

"hey…," you called out towards the man just two feet in front of you, as a result of you sneakily sliding into the seat across from him at the cafe table he sat at. your lips hung on that final syllable, really stretching out that "eyyy". "you're in my gen chem right?" the harmonic clink of your bangles rang through the space you occupied as you focused on making your voice sound as sweet and sultry as possible

the man in question, y'know, the ones your friends call p.f.b.b.. the p.f.b.b. thing was all credits to you of course. every time you talked about that day's writing or chemistry lecture, he was always mentioned as just that: pretty face black beanie, even though "pretty face black beanie" never looked your way once. it was several continuous moments of pure delusion, your pure delusion

p.f.b.b. glanced up at you and gave a small head nod before turning back to his laptop. it had a clear case with a bunch of stickers from bands you didn't recognize amongst other things you assumed he liked. "of course you are! the chemistry between us is just so genuine maybe its cause you're such a gentleman!"

a giggle escaped you as you continued talking. "see what i did there? the gen from genuine and the gen from gentleman both correspond to the gen from gen chem. which i know means general by the way, i'm not—"

"are you okay?"

p.f.b.b.'s eyes were now trained on your form, looking with an expression you couldn't discern as anything but pure concern. but of course, for you, that meant something completely different. under his gaze, you felt your cheeks heat up and you began to fidget. "p.f.b.b., stop looking at me like that! you're making me shy…"

it was silent for a few seconds before he spoke. "why do you keep calling me that?"

"i'm sorry?" you tilted your head a bit

"this is maybe the third or fourth time you've called me p.f.b.b.," he takes a sip from his coffee cup before continuing to type away on his laptop

i've spoken to you before??? is what you thought

and its also what you said.

"well yes," he started, gaze never leaving the blue light of his device, "like that time i answered professor's question and you said 'wow p.f.b.b. you're so smart!'. or that other time when i picked up your pencil case for you as i was leaving the lecture hall. or when—"

"okay i get it! i seriously don't remember that happening at all though… maybe i should start taking memory pills…" you muttered

"i know you're popular and stuff but we're in university now. the bullying thing is outdated and super uncool."

you had to take a couple of moments to fully grasp what he was saying. he thought you were bullying him. he thought you were a bully. and worst of all, he thought you were uncool. your body shivered at that thought and a pit formed in your stomach

"wait—!" you exclaimed, even though he wasn't going anywhere, "first off, i'm not bullying you! the p.f.b.b. thing is an inside joke—"

"am i in on the joke?"

you froze in place. he got you there. "well no—"

"exactly. move to the second thing please." he bluntly stated as he took another swig of coffee

"okay um, i'm not uncool! i'm actually really cool. and i wouldn't consider myself to be popular either!" you scrambled to find your words and for each syllable that you said, you felt that pit in your stomach growing bigger

"everyone in the school knows you. you're popular." he said as he reached into his messenger bag, pulling out glasses and putting them on

you usually would be entranced, but you had way bigger fish to fry. "i—i can't be popular! what if someone asks me for the best date spots, or amazing places to eat, or secret secluded areas for a bit of privacy!? i'm not from here! i wouldn't know! and—and then i'll look like a failure! i'll look like a loser! p.f.b.b. i can't!—wait."

it was only when you stopped talking that he looked up from his laptop, "what…?"

you'd never noticed it before but his voice was really nice, almost to the point where even you would shut up just to hear him talk about any topic that came to his mind 

"are you from here?"

"uh, yeah? i was born and raised in this area. why?" p.f.b.b raised his eyebrow at your sudden question to which you sighed in response. "oh nothing…," you cupped your hands on your jaw and looked out a nearby window. "i just wish a local, y'know, someone who's lived here all their life and was born and raised here, knows all the ins and outs of the city…, yeah just wish someone like that would show me around. i'm still new here…"

"well, i hope you find that person."

your eyes snapped open to see him all packed up, headphones on, and that suspiciously never-ending coffee cup in hand. "bye for now."

sitting in shock was all you could do. and sit you did. a calm five or so minutes had passed before you noticed something shiny in your peripheral. a card, but not just any card, a pokémon card, but not just any pokémon card, an ultra rare pokémon card at the back of a phone, but not just any phone, p.f.b.b.'s phone

you struck gold. pretty face black beanie will certainly be looking for this soon enough, and then you'll be there to swoop in and save the day. and it'll go something like this…

"ugh, where is that thing!" p.f.b.b. mutters frustratingly

"what thing?" you say sweetly, batting your eyelashes

"my phone. i must've misplaced it."

"oh perhaps…" you walk over to where he's standing, his phone in hand, "is this your phone?" you look up at him cutely

"yes! this is my phone! you found it! how can i ever repay you?"

"oh… you don't have to. i was just looking out for you…"

"i know! let's get married!"

"well if you insist…"

"of course! i love you!"

cue flowers and glitter and sparkles 

you giggled from how creative and vivid the scene was but unfortunately that sound broke you from your delusion and brought you right back to the real world

"i have p.f.b.b.'s phone." you said flatly, opening the door to your shared apartment. shouts of "what?!" and "huh??!" filled the space as you set down your things and laid on the couch. your best friends quickly flooded the living room, throwing questions at you

"ladies, ladies, please. one at a time."

nobara hit your thigh, "stop acting so high and mighty! how did you get his phone?"

mimiko massaged the area as she listened to you, "so long story short, we were talking at a cafe and then he left but forgot his phone so i just picked it up!"

"so… you stole his phone." nanako stated

"no. he left it and i picked it up."

"wait— don't you know his schedule?" nobara mentioned, resting her head on the plush couch, "shouldn't you have been able to give it back to him?" 

"well no… i'm not a stalker! i just have general knowledge of when and where his classes will be during the week."

"so why didn't you give it back to him, instead of stealing it?" mimiko teased, now kneading at your calves

"not you too, mimi!" you whined, "like i said, i didn't steal his phone! he left it on the cafe table and i picked it up!"

their voices mixed together to try and get the same two words through that thick skull of yours

"that's theft!"

the arguing of you and your roommates concerning your concerning ethics filled your ears, preventing you from hearing anything else. especially that banging on the front door

nanako shushed you all, bringing her voice to a barely audible whisper, "do you guys… hear that?"

thump. thump. thump.

"its probably one of your packages," nobara mentioned, earning an enlightened nod, "you seriously have a shopping addiction."

the shopaholic stood up and walked over to the door, still whispering, "you're one to talk!" you, nobara, and mimiko watched on as nanako's hand slipped over the door handle and turned it open. you swore that the door wasn't even open for a full five seconds before it was slammed shut. "it's a man."

the four of you exchanged confused looks. "yeah… maybe it's the delivery man…? check for a package," you said reassuringly. the door opens and it closes. nanako's voice right after. "no package."

"well… uh… what does he look like? maybe he's returning something one of us misplaced?" mimiko stammered, feeling the tension in the air rise at the unexpected stranger. the door opens again and it closes again. "brown hair. brown eyes. he's kinda emo looking…"

"spencer's emo or hot topic emo?"

"spencer's."

"wait!" you realized, practically falling over yourself as you ran to the door and pulled it open, "its–!"

"uh, hi..." you said, voice suddenly small compared to your usual playful demeanor. he was standing right outside your apartment door, looking more tired than annoyed, though the crease in his brow said he was definitely annoyed

"hey," he replied, with little emotion. his eyes briefly flicked to your roommates huddled behind you, who had all gone suspiciously silent. "you have my phone."

you unfortunately understood his intentions of finding where you live. it wasn't to ask you on a date, or to take you up on that offer you made earlier, it was to get his phone. you could've lied and said you didn't have it but…

"i do!" you held it up triumphantly like some kind of trophy, though the look on his face immediately made you regret it. "...but i swear, i wasn't trying to steal it or anything!"

his eyebrow raised slightly, and for a second, you thought he might actually laugh. instead, he sighed and reached out his hand. "can i have it back?"

"of course," you said quickly, but just as you extended it toward him, you froze. "wait! how do i know this is really your phone?"

"i'm sorry?" he blinked, looking somewhere between incredulous and exhausted. "you know it's my phone. you picked it up."

"yeah, but..." you stepped back slightly, holding it just out of reach. "what if it's not your phone, and you're just some random guy who also happens to wear a black beanie and drink coffee in moody cafes?"

your roommates groaned audibly from behind you, and you heard nobara mutter something like she's impossible under her breath

p.f.b.b., stared at you for a long moment before pinching the bridge of his nose. "okay. fine." he held out his hand again, palm up. "ask me something only i'd know if it's my phone."

you paused, scrambling for a question. "uh... what's on the back of your phone case?"

"a meowscarada pokémon card. holo, rare," he said without missing a beat. "which you clearly already saw, since you're holding it."

damn. he had you there.

"okay, okay," you relented, placing the phone in his outstretched hand. "i believe you. say no more."

he chuckled softly—barely audible, but enough to make your heart do a little somersault. "thanks. i appreciate you picking it up. i was worried i'd have to replace the card."

before you could stop yourself, you blurted, "you must really like pokémon, huh?"

"it's nostalgic," he admitted, remembering his childhood. "my brother and i used to play together when we were kids."

your lips curved into a grin. "that's cute. guess you're not as emo as you look."

his head tilted slightly at that, but you caught the faintest twitch of a smile at the corner of his lips. "guess not. anyway..." he glanced past you at your still-curious roommates. "thanks again. i should go."

"wait!" you called after him as he started to turn. he stopped, looking at you expectantly. "how do you know where i live? do you live around here or something?"

"i… uh… live just over there," his thumb pointed behind him and you followed that direction to…

the unit right across from yours.

703.

"what?!" you gasped, "how come you never said anything? plus, i never see you in the mornings? how is this possible?!"

"one, we don't know each other well enough yet to know where the other lives," p.f.b.b. scrolled through his missed messages while he continued, "and two, i make sure to leave early and come back late every day just so i can avoid you."

grumbling, you wanted to slam the door in his face again but remembered that you had to choose peace. "that's great! i hope you're happy!" aaaand you slammed the door anyway

yet. we don't know each other well enough yet.

"oh p.f.b.b~!" nanako swooned

"oh [name]~!" nobara giggled

"insert kissing sounds and the actors are running their hands over the other's body." 

"stop that!!"

music was blasting and your spirits were up. you were practically skipping to your next class. that was… until you caught sight of a familiar head of blonde behind the granite fountain 

"uncle ken!" you called out, rounding the fountain's corner

"hello, [name]. what brings you here?" the well-composed man paused his previous conversation, giving his research assistant a silent apology while he focused on you

you nodded to p.f.b.b. before answering kento, "nothing much! just walking to my next class,"

"uncle…?" p.f.b.b questioned under his breath

unfortunately for him, his mentor picked up on it. "my apologies, i should introduce you two," kento turned towards the other man who seemed to regret his decision of speaking his thoughts, "ino, this is [name]. her parents and i are close so, naturally, she calls me her uncle. and—"

kento spun back to you, using his hand to motion towards "ino". you noticed a bracelet adorning his right hand. kento doesn't like wearing anything that's not a watch and it looks handmade and those colors… yellow, blue, black and brown??? how odd… "[name], this is takuma ino. he's been my research assistant for two years."

it was kind of weird to realize that p.f.b.b.'s name wasn't… well— p.f.b.b. like, he has a whole name: takuma ino. it hung on your lips and your tongue savored the taste. "hi," you spoke, giving ino a small wave. "hey," he responded, parroting your motions

"was that what you were working on at the cafe yesterday? some data stuff?"

"uh…, yeah. yeah i was."

kento silently watched this happen and even he was uncomfortable. there was a slight tension in the air. it was missable but apparent enough if you looked for it. he cleared his throat softly, bringing your attention back to him. "how are your parents?" he asked.

"they're good," you replied, smiling, though your voice carried a slight hesitation. "they always ask about you, by the way. mom wanted me to tell you that you're still her favorite."

kento allowed a rare chuckle, shaking his head. "i'm flattered, but i imagine that makes your dad roll his eyes."

"it does." you laughed

"speaking of family," you continued, "my brother is getting discharged from the military soon! and we're planning to have a little get together or something. nothing too crazy, but it'll be our first one together since he left and i know how much he loves you so…" your voice trailed off, hoping that the silence was strong enough to carry your unspoken words

"i understand. of course i'll be there."

kento smiled when he saw you beaming, on the verge of jumping up and down from happiness, and from the corner of your eye, you swear that you saw the corner of a lip curl up from that "ino"

"great—oh shoot—!" you checked the time on your phone and realized that… if you didn't go now, you'd be late. and that professor does not play. you showed up three minutes late to one of his lectures and he basically publicly humiliated you. "i gotta go but text mom and dad about it, okay uncle? bye now! bye ino!"

as you speed walked away, you felt ino's eyes lingering on you. a soft chuckle escaped your lips. takuma ino—you liked the way it sounded

the campus library was unusually quiet for a wednesday night, the usual hum of late-night chatter replaced by the occasional sound of a book being flipped or the muffled footsteps of a librarian making their rounds. you had no plans to be productive tonight; in fact, you'd come here specifically to procrastinate. or, more accurately, to bother someone

your target was easy to spot, tucked away in the far corner of the library like a hermit hiding from civilization. p.f.b.b was hunched over his notebook, one earbud in, one out, the faint sound of rock music drifting in the air around him

you made a beeline for him, sliding into the seat across the table before he could even process what was happening. "fancy seeing you here," you whispered conspiratorially, even though this was his obvious habitat

he didn't even look up, just sighed. "you're aware this is a library, right?"

"and you're aware you're in my study spot, right?" you countered, setting your bag down with an exaggerated thud

finally, his eyes flicked up to meet yours, unimpressed as always. "you… study?" before you could fight back, he continued, "anyways… pretty sure i've been coming here since the semester started, so if anything, this is my study spot."

"well that's too bad for you because i've been coming here since the first day i set foot on this campus," you shot back with a grin, leaning forward on your elbows. "but i'm willing to negotiate. how about we share?"

p.f.b.b. stared at you before shaking his head and returning to his notes. "as long as you don't talk too much."

"me? never."

silence settled between you for a few moments, a fragile truce held together by his focus and your determination not to annoy him too much. but that didn't stop you from sneaking glances at his notes

"why are you studying organic chem?" you asked after a while, squinting at the complicated diagrams on his page. "i thought we were suffering through general chem together."

"because i'm actually trying to graduate," he replied flatly

"well, me too," you said with a dramatic sigh, leaning back in your chair

he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, finally setting his pen down. "if you're not here to study, what are you here for?"

you grinned, pulling a pack of gummy bears out of your bag and sliding them across the table toward him. "to make sure you don't pass out from starvation, obviously."

he looked at the gummy bears, then at you, his expression unreadable. after a beat, he shook his head, a small, reluctant smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "you're weird, you know that?"

"compliments will get you everywhere," you said, plucking a gummy bear from the pack and popping it into your mouth

for the rest of the night, you sat across from him, not saying much but somehow managing to get under his skin with every little comment or movement. oddly enough, seeing him work made you itch to do some studying of your own. and when he finally packed up to leave, muttering something about having an early class, he didn't tell you to leave him alone or call you annoying

instead, he paused just before he walked away, turning back to you with a bemused look

"thanks for the gummy bears."

"anytime— wait! aren't we going the same way…? wait for me!" you scrambled to pack up your pencils and books, stuffing them in your bag, not realizing that p.f.b.b—i mean— ino, was kinda, sorta, maybe, if you had asked him he'd say "no", but from what i saw, he was… waiting for you…

"then move faster, idiot."

you walked through the halls, passing numerous rooms, a small skip in your step. your body froze as you recalled a certain room's number, kento's research lab. walking back to where it was and peeping through the windowed door, you saw that it was… organized chaos. papers and binders were stacked, whiteboards covered in dense equations, and the faint scent of coffee could be smelled from outside the door. looking closer, you could see someone hunched over a desk, scribbling something on a notepad. ino.

you twisted the handle of the door, opening it with a push, "tough work?"

ino looked up from his desk, blinking at you in mild surprise. his hair was slightly disheveled and rid of that beanie, and there was a smudge of something that looked suspiciously like marker on his cheek

"i'm fine," he said, though the dark circles under his eyes told a different story. "really. i've got it handled."

you raised an eyebrow, looking him up and down. "you're drowning in… whatever this is. don't worry about it, i'll just provide extra assistance."

he groaned, leaning back in his chair. "seriously, you don't have to. it's not a lot of work."

the phrase held so much irony considering there were sheets upon sheets of paper, and towers of that. you guessed he realized his small lie once he glanced around the room

ino sighed but didn't argue further, instead gesturing to the mountain of work in front of him. "fine. if you're so eager to help, you can start with that pile over there."

you pulled up a chair beside him, scanning the papers and the spreadsheet open on his laptop. "okay, let's see what we're working with."

as you both settled into the task, the room grew quieter, save for the sound of typing or the rustle of papers

"you're surprisingly good at this," ino said after a while, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye

"surprisingly?"

he winced. "i didn't mean it like that. just… i didn't expect you to pick it up so quickly."

"thanks for the backhanded compliment," you said dryly, but there was a hint of a smile on your lips

he chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "sorry. i meant it as a real compliment. you're making this way easier."

"you're welcome," you said, turning back to the spreadsheet. "but seriously, how have you two been doing this without losing your minds?"

"coffee," he said immediately

you snorted. "yeah, i can tell. your bloodstream is probably ninety percent caffeine at this point."

he smirked, but the teasing in his expression softened into something more genuine. "it's been… a lot. nanami keeps me grounded, though. he's really good at this kind of thing."

"yeah, he is," you said, pausing for a moment before adding, "but so are you."

ino blinked, caught off guard. "me?"

"yes, you," you said, glancing at him. "you're smart, ino. you don't give yourself enough credit."

he looked at you for a moment, his usual demeanor towards you faltering. "thanks," he said softly

the moment lingered longer than either of you expected, the air between you feeling just a bit heavier

the hours passed in a steady rhythm of work and banter sprinkled in, and by the time the sun began to set, the two of you had cleared more than half of the tasks kento had left behind

"see?" you said as you leaned back in your chair. "teamwork makes the dream work."

ino laughed, shaking his head. "alright, fine. you win. maybe having you here wasn't the worst thing."

"don't get too used to it," you teased, grabbing your bag. "next time, i might just let you suffer alone."

he playfully shot you a look while stretching in his chair, "hey, how about i show you around."

"what? are—are you joking?"

 he got up and packed his bag with never before seen speed, "yeah. i am."

"you—!"

"follow me."

ino led the way out of the building, his energy contagious despite the long day you both had. the evening air was cool and refreshing, the city humming quietly as the golden glow of the setting sun bathed everything in a warm light

"i know this great spot," he said with a grin as he walked slightly ahead, hands casually stuffed in his jacket pockets. "you've been here for a while, but have you actually seen the good stuff?"

you raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite yourself. "define 'good stuff.'"

he smirked over his shoulder. "you'll see."

as you followed ino down the bustling streets, the city seemed to transform as it got darker. neon lights flickered to life, illuminating the shop windows and casting colorful reflections on the wet pavement from an earlier drizzle. the aroma of street food mingled with the faint scent of rain, creating a vivid tapestry of sights and smells

"so," you began, dodging a biker weaving through the crowd, "what's the first stop on this magical mystery tour of yours? please tell me it's food. i'm starving."

ino grinned, gesturing dramatically toward a food cart that had a line of eager customers. "you, my friend, are about to experience the best takoyaki this city has to offer."

"oh, come on," you teased, falling in step beside him. "isn't that what everyone says about their favorite food cart?"

"don't disrespect taro-san like that," ino shot back, placing a hand over his heart in mock offense. "this man has been perfecting his craft since before i could hold chopsticks."

moments later, you stood together, balancing plates of piping hot takoyaki drizzled with sauce and topped with dancing bonito flakes. ino took a bite, his expression almost reverent. "see? what did i tell you? food of the gods."

you took a bite, and your eyes widened. the crisp shell gave way with a soft crunch, revealing the molten, creamy filling inside. it was so warm it nearly melted on your tongue, a perfect blend of savory depth and a subtle sweetness that made your mouth water instantly. the octopus at the center was tender, just the right amount of chewy, and so fresh it almost seemed to bring a whisper of the ocean with it. the sauce on top was like a burst of fireworks—sweet and tangy, with a smoky undertone that paired flawlessly with the creamy mayo drizzled alongside it

you had to pause for a second after swallowing, just to appreciate it. the warmth lingered in your mouth, and you already knew one bite wouldn't be enough. within seconds the entire thing was gone, but you couldn't give ino the satisfaction of being right

"it was alright i guess." you shrugged, "i suppose you're not as full of it as i thought."

"right…," ino said with a suspicious grin, nudging you lightly with his elbow. "stick with me and i'll make you a connoisseur."

he didn't waste any time bringing you to the next point of interest, grabbing your hand with his and dragging you to a small, secluded alley lined with string lights and small artisan shops. it was beautiful, to say the least

"it's… quieter here."

"yeah," ino agreed, his voice softer now. "this is one of my favorite spots. it's like the city pauses for a second."

you glanced at him, noticing the way his eyes softened as he looked around. "you come here often?"

"used to, back when i needed to think. or when i was avoiding studying," he admitted with a sheepish grin

"you? avoid studying? how unlikely…" you sneakily caught a glance at your still interlocked hands, noticing a small, oddly colored, handmade bracelet around ino's wrist. but it seems you were staring at it for far too long

"oh! sorry!" he stuttered, pulling his hand from yours, and bringing it to his chest. you immediately felt the slight chill of the night but still flashed a bittersweet smile that conveyed something of a don't worry about it. out of the corner of your eye, you saw one of the shops practically twinkling. getting a closer look, your wallet itched once you saw the array of jewelry and hair accessories. it was sorted by color and then by type, gold earrings on the far left and silver necklaces on the far right. but you were inexplicably drawn to one item: a hair clip with four small, white seashells on it

"that one?"

ino's voice next to you made you jump slightly. giving him a small hit on his shoulder, you followed his finger to the item you were just admiring. "yeah, that one. it's really pretty, isn't it?" ino hummed in response, surprised to see you turn away from it and walk down the alley instead

"but…, maybe i'll get it another time."

after a minute or so of window shopping the rest of the stores, ino caught up to you. "next up is the park. you can't say you've really seen the city until you've walked through it at night."

once you got closer, ino pointed at the beautifully lit area in the distance. lanterns illuminated the paths, and the sound of a bubbling fountain echoed softly. children chased each other, their laughter carrying through the crisp air, while couples strolled hand in hand. ino brought you to a bench overlooking a pond, the moonlight reflecting off its surface like a scene from a painting

"alright, i'll give it to you," you said, leaning back and stretching, stomach craving that takoyaki from earlier. "you weren't kidding. this is incredible."

"see?" ino said with a smirk, leaning back beside you. "i'm full of surprises. and speaking of that… here." ino reached into his left pocket, pulling a small item out, and pushing it into your hands

staring down at it, you realized it was the seashell hair pin you were eyeing from earlier. overrun with happiness, you flung your arms around ino, showering him in thank you's. pulling away and on the edge of bouncing in your seat, you slipped it into your hair, looking at ino for validation

"how does it look?"

oh. oh.

she's… beautiful. though, i've always known that…

thanking the cashier and gathering your bags, you made a beeline for the exit. you see, you were trying to make it home as quickly as possible because it was friday and you and your roommates always watched a specific show on friday nights. you guys ordered in and it was just amazing, until nanako said that she was craving your cooking, everyone agreed, and then you somehow lost the four way rock, paper, scissors on who goes to the store to get the ingredients. so here you were, standing under the awning of the nearby grocery store, bags in hand, watching the wall of rain as it drenched the street. the rain that wasn't in the forecast and the kind of downpour that left everyone scrambling for cover

great. just great.

your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you pulled it out to see a text from kento

kento: the rain was unexpected. are you alright?

you sighed and quickly typed back

you: yeah, just stuck waiting for it to stop. don't worry, i'll figure it out

after a couple minutes of you standing and contemplating your next move, a sleek black car pulled up to the curb, and the passenger window rolled down, revealing p.f.b.b.'s grin that even though you've seen about three times, you'd never get used to

"need a ride?" he called out, leaning casually over the center console

you blinked at him, caught off guard. "what are you doing here?"

"i was with nanami when he mentioned you," he said, shrugging. "said you were stranded. figured i'd play the hero."

you tried to cross your arms but the weight of the bags were kind of weighing them down, "play the hero driving kento's car? do you even have your license?"

"hey—," he explained, raising his voice just a bit, "it may be nanami's car but he said i could take it! and yes, i do have my license!"

you rolled your eyes but couldn't help the small smile tugging at your lips. "alright, fine. but what about these?" you gestured to your grocery bags

"pop the trunk," he said, pressing a button on the dash. the trunk lid opened smoothly. "problem solved."

with a sigh, you stepped into the rain long enough to stow your bags before climbing into the passenger seat, shaking droplets off your jacket as you settled in. the interior was warm, the faint scent of leather and air freshener filling the space

"comfy?" he teased as you buckled up

"more than i'd be waiting in that rain," you shot back

he laughed, the sound light and easy, as he pulled back onto the road. the rain drummed steadily against the car, but inside, it was quiet, almost peaceful

"alright, then…, let's go home."

home, huh?

the blue light of your laptop pierced your eyes as you typed the final words of your assignment, and submitted it, chemistry work abandoned at the edge of your desk. as you were looking at it ashamedly, a ping came through your phone

xxx-xxx-xxxx: have you done the writing assignment yet?

you: wrong number

xxx-xxx-xxxx: no. it's p.f.b.b.

you: oh! how did you get my number?

p.f.b.b.: don't worry about that. did you do the assignment?

you: yeah i just finished. why?

p.f.b.b.: can you come over? i need some help with it. in exchange, i'll help you with your chem work that i know you didn't start

you: well since you're offering…

"do you still even like him?" nobara questioned, "before you'd be jumping up for joy."

"yeah, i do," you put your laptop and chemistry work and textbook in your tote, grabbing some snacks from the pantry too, "i'm just not as upfront about it anymore. maybe it's cause we're friends now, but i don't know!"

you slung your tote bag over your shoulder, opening the door to your apartment and saying a quick "i'll be back" to your girls. walking just across the hall and knocking on his door, you barely had time to exhale before it swung open to reveal ino in a hoodie and sweats, his hair slightly tousled like he'd just slipped off that beanie

"right on time," he said with a grin, stepping aside to let you in

"you texted me like two minutes ago—"

"make yourself at home," he interrupted, already moving to clear space for you

his apartment mirrored yours in layout but had its own chaotic charm—textbooks and notes spread across the coffee table, an empty coffee mug sitting precariously on the edge

you dropped your bag and slid onto the couch, pulling out your laptop. "let's see what you've got so far."

ino groaned, flopping down beside you with an exaggerated sigh. "barely anything. writing isn't my thing."

you rolled your eyes, smiling despite yourself. "that's what i'm here for."

the second session, where you both stumbled through the assignment, bickering over comma placement and syntax while munching on the snacks you brought. you teased him for his messy handwriting, and he fired back with jokes about your overuse of sticky notes

the fourth session, where ino finally made good on his promise to help you with chemistry. he sat cross-legged on the floor, explaining concepts in a way that actually made sense while you leaned over his shoulder to read his notes

the sixth session, where the stress of exams had both of you yawning into your notebooks. he brewed coffee—terrible coffee—but the gesture made you smile. you fell asleep on his couch that night, waking up to a blanket draped over you

or that one time he showed up at your door, unannounced, holding a coffee cup in one hand and a thick textbook in the other for an "emergency study session,"

today was no different. you walked over to ino's apartment that he graciously started leaving unlocked around this time—just for you. walking in and greeting him briefly, you sat on his couch, your knees brushing against his as you both hovered over the same textbook as you reviewed chemical equations. the proximity made it hard to focus; you were acutely aware of the way his shoulder brushed yours every time he shifted, and you wondered if he was too 

"see?" you said, pointing to a diagram. "like what does that even mean? what does this show me?"

"okay so, this shows esterification.  ethanoic acid and ethanol produces ethyl ethanoate and water in the presence of an acid catalyst like sulfuric acid. the reaction begins with the acid protonation of the carbonyl oxygen of the carboxylic acid, making the carbon more electrophilic." he replied, the words falling off his tongue with ease

you glanced up at him, finding his eyes already on you. though the usual playful spark was there, his words went in one ear and out the other, and you felt embarrassed that you didn't understand a word except acid, produces, reaction, and catalyst

neither of you spoke for a long moment. the tension was palpable, the world outside his apartment fading away until it was just the two of you in this bubble of uncertainty and longing

"ino, repeat that for—" you started, but your words were cut off as he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a kiss so tentative it felt like a question

your breath caught, your mind racing even as your heart leapt. what is happening right now? it was almost an immediate reaction that you kissed him back, the touch lingering just long enough to send your thoughts spiraling before you pulled away

"i—" he started, his expression a mix of surprise and hesitation. "i didn't mean to—"

you shook your head, rising from the couch as you scrambled to gather your things. "i should go."

"wait," he said, standing as if to follow, but you held up a hand to stop him

"i'll… see you later," you murmured, avoiding his gaze as you slipped out the door

the walk across the hall to your apartment felt endless, your heart pounding in your chest. once inside, you leaned against the door, your fingers brushing your lips as you replayed the moment over and over

what the fuck?

the party was in full swing, a cheerful celebration of your brother's long-awaited return. laughter and chatter filled the room, plates of food were passed around, and glasses clinked in endless toasts. you were busy setting a tray of drinks on the counter when you spotted takuma ino standing near the door, looking a little out of place but still managing to charm a small group of your family members and friends with his easygoing smile

your steps faltered, your chest tightening. he hadn't mentioned he'd be here. not that you blamed him—why would he? last night's kiss wasn't a topic either of you seemed ready to breach today. but still, the sight of him caught you completely off guard

turning on your heel, you found kento by the kitchen, nursing a glass of wine. marching up to him, you jabbed a finger in his direction

"why is he here?" you hissed, keeping your voice low

kento raised an eyebrow at you, calm as ever. "he's here because i invited him. your brother wanted to know more about my project. what better way to tell him about it than to bring my research assistant? why?"

you rubbed your temple, biting back a groan. "look, i'm not saying that he can't be here, but… you could've given me a heads-up."

kento's gaze turned suspicious, and his lips twitched into a slight frown. "why would you need a heads-up? haven't i introduced you two?"

you felt heat rising to your cheeks, the embarrassment seeping into your voice as you fumbled for an explanation. "well, yeah, formally, but he and i—we—we're—he and i—NO!"

kento stared at you, unblinking, while you buried your face in your hands, muttering curses under your breath. his frown deepened, and you could practically feel his uncle intuition kicking in

"wait," he said slowly, his tone sharpening. "what do you mean, 'he and i'?"

"nothing!" you snapped, dropping your hands, "i meant nothing. just—just forget i said anything."

kento's expression didn't waver. he studied you for a moment longer before sighing and shaking his head. "whatever you're freaking out about will pass. ino's a good guy."

"yeah, i know," you muttered under your breath, glancing back toward ino, who was now engaged in a conversation with your brother. his laugh echoed across the room, and you couldn't help the flutter of nervous energy it sent through you

as the party continued in full swing, you moved around the room, trying to keep busy—refilling snacks, grabbing empty plates, and avoiding ino's gaze whenever your paths seemed to almost cross

you weren't sure how long you could keep this up. every time his laughter reached your ears or you caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eye, your heart seemed to skip a beat. the kiss from last night lingered in the back of your mind, a constant, unspoken weight

you had just finished setting down a fresh tray of drinks when you heard a voice behind you

"hey."

you froze, recognizing it immediately. slowly turning around, you found ino standing there, his hands holding a can of soda; they were shaking. his usual smile was softer now, almost nervous

"can we talk?" he asked, his voice low enough that no one else could hear over the party noise

your heart sank and leaped at the same time, "uh, sure. now?"

he nodded. "yeah. just for a minute. outside?"

you hesitated, glancing around the room. kento was chatting with your brother near the couch, and the rest of the guests were engrossed in their own conversations. no one would miss you for a few minutes

"okay," you said finally, your voice quieter than you intended

ino led the way to the front door, holding it open for you before stepping out into the cool night air. the silence stretched as you stood there, arms crossed against the slight chill. ino rubbed the back of his neck, clearly searching for the right words

"so," he started, his tone careful, "i uh… figured it was probably a bad idea to bring this up inside. with, you know, everyone around."

you nodded, unsure of where he was going with this. "probably."

he let out a small breath, finally meeting your eyes. "about last night…"

your stomach flipped. of course, he'd bring it up. you'd been bracing for this moment all day, but now that it was here, you didn't know what to say

"look," he continued, "i don't want to make things weird between us. especially not with nanami, or your family, or—"

"it's not weird," you interrupted, surprising even yourself. "at least, it doesn't have to be."

his brows lifted slightly, a flicker of hope in his expression. "really? because i was worried i'd screwed things up."

"you didn't," you said quickly. "it's just… unexpected."

ino nodded, stepping closer. his voice softened, almost hesitant. "i don't regret it, you know. the kiss. but if you're not okay with it, i'll back off. no questions asked."

the sincerity in his tone made your chest ache. you looked up at him, taking in the way his usually confident demeanor seemed so tentative now

"i didn't say i wasn't okay with it," you murmured, barely louder than a whisper. "believe it or not, but i've been flirting with you for a while now."

ino blinked at you, his brows knitting together in confusion. "wait… what?"

you tilted your head, giving him a look that said seriously? "flirting, ino. you know, dropping hints, teasing, trying to get you to notice me?"

he stared at you, his lips parting slightly as if the realization was slowly dawning on him. "you're kidding."

you let out a soft laugh, part amused and part exasperated. "no, i'm not kidding. you're telling me you didn't pick up on any of it? not even when i started making excuses to see you more?"

ino's hand went to the back of his neck, rubbing it in that familiar sheepish way. "i thought you were just being nice! like, nanami-level nice."

you raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. "nanami-level nice? ino, i bought you coffee with your weirdly specific order three times in one week. kento would never do that."

he opened his mouth, then closed it, a look of genuine shock crossing his face. "wait… that was flirting?"

"yes," you said with a small laugh. "and the time i told you your new haircut made you look good? or when i made sure there was always a snack for you at kento's? flirting, ino."

ino's jaw dropped slightly, his hands falling to his sides as he processed your words. "oh, my god. i'm the dumbest guy alive."

"well… maybe," you said, trying not to laugh at his adorably stunned expression

"i am," he insisted, his voice rising slightly in disbelief. "you've been into me this whole time, and i've been walking around like an idiot, completely missing it."

you couldn't help but laugh now, the sound easing the tension between you. "well, now you know."

he took off his beanie and ran a hand through his hair, still looking flustered but with a hint of something softer in his eyes. "yeah. now i know."

for a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet night stretching around you. then, almost shyly, ino glanced at you again. "so… does this mean i can kiss you again? like, now that i'm finally catching up and all."

you smiled, warmth blooming in your chest. "i think that depends. are you going to keep being oblivious, or are you going to start paying attention?"

he grinned, his usual confidence flickering back. "oh, i'm paying attention now. promise."

before you could respond, he stepped closer, his hand brushing against yours as his gaze met yours. slowly, he leaned in, his lips expecting to meet yours in a kiss that was as sweet as it was certain, but… instead they met your pointer finger

"do you hear that? i think someones calling for me." you walked back into the house, leaving ino to wallow in his self-inflicted embarrassment for a while

the convenience store's fluorescent lights buzzed softly above the aisles, casting a harsh glow on shelves stocked with instant noodles, snacks, and cheap energy drinks. you and ino—or, as he let you call him in private, takuma—had wandered in after a long evening of hanging out at his apartment, the kind of night where laughter and teasing filled the silence

takuma leaned against the refrigerator door, his black beanie pushed back enough to reveal a few strands of his messy hair. he squinted at the drink selection like it held the answers to life's greatest mysteries

"you've been staring at that for a full minute," you teased, sliding up beside him. "it's not that deep. just grab the green tea like you always do."

he smirked without looking at you. "and miss out on your expert critique of my choices? never."

you reached past him to grab a bottle of sparkling water, your shoulder brushing his arm. it wasn't much, just a small touch, but it was enough to make the air between you shift. for a second, it felt like the buzzing of the fluorescent lights got louder, the hum filling the space where words should be

he cleared his throat, stepping back just slightly. "you always drink that fizzy stuff. isn't it just soda pretending to be fancy?"

"it's called having taste," you corrected, placing it in your basket

"right. taste," he said, rolling his eyes but smiling anyway

as the two of you wandered through the aisles, the quiet of the late hour settled over you, broken only by the occasional sound of a cashier scanning items. you found yourself in front of the snack section, takuma trailing behind you with his hands shoved into his jacket pockets

"you want anything?" you asked, holding up a bag of chips

"nah, i'm good," he said, but his eyes lingered on the pack of pocky in your hand

you smirked, tossing it into your basket. "liar. i'll grab it for you. consider it a thank you for giving back that hoodie you stole last week."

"i didn't steal it," he argued, though his tone was more defensive than adamant

"oh, so it just walked out of my closet on its own? how did you even get in?"

he scratched the back of his neck, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, "mimiko let me in… and… it's comfortable."

you grinned, but decided to let it go. instead, you nudged him lightly with your elbow as you headed toward the counter. "next time, just ask. i might even let you keep it."

he followed you in silence, but when you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, you caught the faintest hint of pink on his ears

after paying for your haul, you stepped outside into the crisp night air. the streets were quiet, the kind of stillness that felt rare in the city. takuma walked beside you, the pocky in his hand already opened

"you're eating that now?" you asked, digging through the bag for that sparkling water of yours

"why not?" he said around the stick in his mouth, offering you the box

you took one, the chocolate coating melting slightly against your lips. for a moment, the two of you just walked in comfortable silence, the tension from earlier still lingering but softer now, like a thread pulling you closer without snapping

"thanks," he said suddenly, his voice quiet

"for what?" you asked, glancing at him

he shrugged, not meeting your eyes. "i don't know."

"he knew. he definitely knew," you insisted, gesturing wildly as you paced the living room

mimiko tilted her head thoughtfully. "but if he knew, why wouldn't he just say something?"

nanako smirked. "maybe he's waiting for you to say something first. or maybe he's just an idiot who can't read the room."

nobara clicked her tongue. "i mean, the guy's not exactly subtle. pretending he needs help with writing assignments? clearing his schedule to go grocery shopping with you so that you never have to carry the bags in by yourself? and don't even get me started on how he looks at you when you're not paying attention."

you threw up your hands, exasperated. "what am i supposed to do, just march up to him and demand he explain himself?"

"yes," they chorused

"ugh!" you groaned, grabbing your bag and stomping toward your room. "i don't wanna do this anymore!"

their laughter followed you down the hall, but your irritation evaporated the moment you stepped inside. on your desk, there was a letter

your name was scrawled across the front in unmistakable handwriting. your breath caught as you picked it up, hands trembling slightly as you unfolded the paper. the words inside were written with care, each line pulling at your heart:

to you, the one who's always on my mind,

i've started and restarted this letter more times than i can count, and even now, i'm not sure if i've found the right words. how do you tell someone that they've completely changed the way you see the world? that their laugh is the best sound you've ever heard, or that their smile makes even the worst days feel a little brighter?

i've never been good at this—putting my feelings into words—but for you, i'll try. because you deserve to know how incredible you are, even if i can't say it as smoothly as i'd like.

you have this way of making everything feel easier, lighter, just by being yourself. and it's not just the big things, like how you help me with work or how you always know exactly what to say when i'm frustrated. it's the little things too. like how you hum under your breath when you're focused, how you tilt your head when you're confused, how you always manage to start an argument over the stupidest of topics, how you light up when you talk about something you love. it's those little things that make me fall harder for you every day.

i don't know when it started—maybe it was the late nights we spent working together, or maybe it was how you didn't let me quit when things felt impossible. but now i don't think i want to stop. you make me want to be better, just so i can be someone worthy of being by your side. and maybe i'm not saying this the right way, but i hope you understand what i mean.

i don't know what you'll do with this letter, and maybe i'm an idiot for writing it (and asking mimiko to put it on your desk for me), but if nothing else, i just needed you to know.

yours (if you want me to be),

p.f.b.b.

your chest tightened, emotions flooding through you as you reread the letter. before you could realize it, you were across the hall, in front of takuma's door

you knocked on it and pushed it open without waiting for a response. "takuma—"

he was standing in the kitchen, and your eyes immediately caught the bouquet of your favorite flowers on the counter. the vibrant blooms were arranged with care, their familiar scent wafting through the room

takuma turned, his face a mix of surprise and panic. "oh. uh… hey."

"you're unbelievable," you said, holding up the letter, trying to fight back your smile

his ears turned red as he scratched the back of his neck. "so, you found that."

"takuma, what is this?" you gestured to the flowers and the letter, your voice a mix of exasperation and something softer

he hesitated, looking uncharacteristically shy. "i… i wanted to tell you how i feel, but every time i try, i just… i mess it up. so, i thought maybe this would be easier."

you stared at him, your heart pounding. "and the flowers?"

"i thought they'd make you smile," he said simply, stepping closer. "do they?"

you felt your lips twitch despite yourself. "they do."

his shoulders relaxed slightly, but the tension between you only seemed to grow. his voice dropped, softer now. "i meant every word in that letter. i did."

your breath hitched, and before you could stop yourself, you blurted, "why didn't you tell me sooner? i've been…" you trailed off, shaking your head

"been what?" he pressed, his eyes searching yours.

"waiting," you admitted. "i've been waiting for you to say something since the party. anything."

takuma stepped closer, his hand brushing against yours. "i'm saying it now," he murmured. "i care about you. a lot. more than i probably should. and if i'm being honest, you terrify me a little because of how much i feel when i'm around you."

your heart twisted at his words, and before your mind could find a reason to say no, you leaned up, capturing his lips in a kiss. it was hesitant at first, soft and searching, but when his arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer, the world seemed to melt away

when you pulled back, both of you were breathless, his forehead resting against yours

"i think we should date," he said, a small smile playing on his lips

you laughed softly, your nerves giving way to warmth. "i think we should too."

his grin widened, but before the moment could get too serious, he quipped, "does this mean i get to steal your clothes now?"

you smacked his arm playfully. "i'm pretty sure it's supposed to be the other way around."

"hey…, what does p.f.b.b. stand for?"

"mmm," you hummed, looking at your… boyfriend. "don't worry about it."

jjk taglist

@blendingcaramal @gzchaos @theamazingrain @woah-girlz @voloslobotomyservice

@kyozvy @obessionofagrl @bubybubsters @sugurusbaobei @raindropsonrwses

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@baekhyunsbestie @vorfreudevortex @leuriss @xaithings @corvid007

[ayumigotabittoolonely]

Is there someone else?

(Satoru gojo xreader angst)

Part 2

{i used chat gpt to fix my grammer)

Is There Someone Else?

The rain poured relentlessly, cascading down the large windows of your shared apartment. You sat on the couch, your phone clutched tightly in your hands, waiting for a message-any sign from him. But Gojo Satoru, ever aloof and unreachable, was silent once again.

He’d been distant lately. His playful demeanor remained, but something felt off. The way he avoided eye contact during conversations, the way his smile didn’t reach his eyes anymore—it gnawed at you like a persistent shadow.

Tonight was the breaking point. You had waited for hours for him to come home, dinner growing cold on the table. When you finally called, it went straight to voicemail. Not that it surprised you. Satoru’s life as the strongest sorcerer was unpredictable, but this wasn’t about his missions anymore.

It was about her.

Her name was uthaime. She had always been a presence in his life, confident and alluring. You told yourself it was paranoia, but the little things added up. The whispered phone calls, the inside jokes they shared, the way his face lit up when she walked into a room—it was unbearable.

When the door finally opened, Satoru stepped in, his hair damp from the rain and his blindfold hanging loosely around his neck. He looked exhausted, but the sight of you froze him in place.

“Hey,” he said softly, but the warmth in his voice felt rehearsed.

“Where were you?” you asked, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to sound calm.

“Out,” he replied, evasive as always.

“With uthaime?” The name tasted bitter on your tongue.

His eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face. “Why does it matter?”

You stood up, the pain bubbling into anger. “It matters because I feel like I’m losing you, Satoru! You’ve been so distant, and every time I see you with her, it feels like you’re slipping away.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You’re overthinking this. Uthaime and I work together. That’s all it is.”

“Then why don’t you ever tell me where you’re going? Why do you avoid me?” Your voice cracked, betraying the hurt you tried so hard to hide.

“Because I don’t want to fight about this every time!” he snapped, his usual playful tone replaced by frustration. “Do you think I don’t notice the way you look at me, always doubting me?”

“Can you blame me?!” you shouted. “You never let me in, Satoru! I don’t even know what we are anymore.”

For a moment, the room was silent except for the sound of the rain. His gaze softened, but it wasn’t comforting. It was filled with something that looked like guilt.

“Do you love her?” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He froze, his expression unreadable. “What kind of question is that?”

“Answer me.”

He hesitated, and that pause was enough to shatter whatever hope you had left.

“I care about you,” he said finally, but his words felt hollow.

You laughed bitterly, tears streaming down your face. “That’s not what I asked.”

He stepped closer, but you took a step back. “Don’t, Satoru. Just… don’t.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said softly, his voice filled with regret. “You mean so much to me.”

“But not enough,” you replied, your heart breaking with every word.

The gap between you felt insurmountable, a chasm filled with everything left unsaid. Without another word, you grabbed your coat and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?” he asked, panic creeping into his voice.

“Somewhere I can breathe,” you said, not looking back.

As the door closed behind you, the rain outside mirrored the storm inside your heart. You didn’t know where you were going, but one thing was clear—you couldn’t stay. You didn't know if you'll be back or not.

And somewhere in the empty apartment, Satoru stood alone, his hand still reaching for the door, wondering if he had just made the biggest mistake of his life.

[harrywavycurly]

The Almost Bumble Fumble: Roses and Petnames

Part 1: Here

CW: none

A/N: I’m so glad yall wanted more of this, I do enjoy these two they are fun so just let me know if you’d like to see more of them✨

Tag List: @georgiarose94 @maiajadestyles @fandomfreak404 @likea-silhouette @obsessiveenthusiast @thegr8estpuff @triski73 @amarenonamari @cloudyluun

Summary: You have a new Friday night routine and as fate would have it you also get a Saturday morning surprise✨

“Are these your only options?” You don’t mean for your voice to sound so teasing as you ask the simple question but Harry doesn’t seem bothered by it as he holds up two hangers that have his shirt options for his dinner later in the evening.

Now if anyone had asked what you do on your Friday nights after work you know they’d think you were a bit off your rocker if you explained how you spend most of your Friday evening cuddled in the corner of your couch with a bottle of wine while on FaceTime with Harry Styles. But it’s the truth and it’s been your Friday routine for about three weeks now ever since you scrolled upon his profile on a certain dating app. Friday nights being your chosen night to spend with each other through phone screens since that seems to be the day when both of you have the most down time. Minus tonight because Harry reluctantly agreed to going to dinner with a few friends but you still get a few hours of his time which he made sure to clear his schedule for. Something that of course you weren’t aware of, you just assume that he calls you at the usual time of five in the evening because he needed some advice on his outfit and didn’t feel like bothering anyone else.

“Uh well I could go back in the closet and pick something else but-you really don’t like the red?” He asks as he looks down at the silky red long sleeved shirt and then back to you with a quirked brow. You rub your lips together as you shake your head making him let out a huff.

“I’m sorry it’s just a lot of red very close to your face.”

“So if I changed my face it would be a winner then?”

“Harry honestly when is the last time you wore that much red?”

“I wear red all the time.” He argues as he tosses the hanger holding the red shirt onto his bed before holding the other shirt option up to his chest as he looks at himself in his mirror.

“No you wear red as an accent color like red with giant white hearts or a floral print on top of it not just solid red.” You explain as you reach over for your glass of wine that’s sitting on your coffee table. Harry rolls his eyes as he moves around his bedroom so he can grab the pants he plans on wearing.

“I just think the blue is boring.” He states as he holds up the pants and the shirt in front of his iPad that he has perched on top of his nightstand, opting for his iPad so he has a bigger screen to see you on but you did tease him about it when he first used it last week because it reminded you of you grandpa using his iPad to take photos during the holidays.

“Blue makes your eyes pop.” You tell him making a small smile appear on his face as he eyes the blue short sleeved shirt one more time. “Besides it has white and pink stripes on it so I’d hardly call it boring.” You add before taking a sip of your wine.

“I wear blue a lot though so shouldn’t-”

“I’ve never seen you in blue.” Harry makes a face that lets you know he isn’t sure if you’re joking or not. You let out a chuckle as you lean over to place your glass back on the coffee table.

“You saw me get tattooed on television wearing a blue and white shirt love.”

“Yeah but that wasn’t in the flesh like in person or even over a phone screen.”

“So if you don’t see it with your own eyes in person then it doesn’t count? Is that what I’m learning tonight?” Harry can’t help but laugh and shake his head when you nod in response, he doesn’t know why but it’s little conversations like this that have him feeling all warm and fuzzy inside and deep down he wonders if it’s because it just feels like a conversation between two people who like each other.

“Exactly now go put the whole outfit on and I’ll tell you if it’s acceptable or not.” You smile at the way Harry doesn’t even hesitate to walk off to his bathroom so he can change. “Oh and remind me again who all is going to be at this dinner?” You only raise your voice the slightest amount since you know he can hear you.

“A few people from the label as well as Jeff and I think Mitch and Sarah but I’m not completely sure if they’ll come or not.” He answers as he walks out of the bathroom messing with the buttons of his shirt. He stands a little bit away from the camera so you can get the full picture of his outfit. “So? What do we think?” He asks as he holds his arms out and does a slow spin making you laugh as you bring your phone closer to your face so you can see the details of his black trousers better.

“Is that a gold belt?” Harry looks down at the belt he picked and immediately starts to undo it so he can slide it off while shaking his head and giving you a shrug.

“Gold belt? No why-why would I pick a gold belt with cool toned colors? That’s absurd.” You just roll your eyes as he mindlessly tosses the belt towards his closet door and gives you a playful grin. “Obviously I’ll wear a silver one.”

“Do you need a belt or is it just an accessory?”

“Uh no I don’t-”

“I like it better without the belt.”

“You know it’s sort of odd I’m taking fashion advice from someone I’ve only ever seen in pajamas or workout clothes.” Harry watches your face as he teases you because neither of you can manage to go long without a playful jab at the other and you find it’s something you enjoy about talking to Harry, he doesn’t take himself too seriously.

“You’re literally the one who called me and asked for my opinion and besides you said my smiley face pajamas were cute.” You remind him as you stand up from your couch and head into the kitchen while Harry walks over to where he keeps his jewelry so he can begin to pick out his rings.

“They are very cute.” You smile when you look at your phone screen and see him concentrating on finding a certain ring, the statement about your pajamas being cute falling out of his mouth without even having to think about it. “What are your thoughts on pearls?”

“Oh I only have inappropriate thoughts about pearls. What about you?” Harry lifts his eyes away from his jewelry case so he can send you a playful glare while the corner of his mouth goes upward into a small smile.

“Are you drinking red wine?” You laugh as you place your phone on the counter making Harry get a decent view of your kitchen ceiling. “You get a bit cheeky on red wine.” He adds as he goes back to picking out a few rings.

“I think pearls would look nice.” You answer his original question, ignoring the one about what kind of wine you’re drinking.

“What are you doing? Why am I still looking at the light fixture above the sink?” Harry doesn’t mean to sound whiney but he also doesn’t have much time left before his driver will be arriving and he would much rather be looking at your face than your ceiling.

“I’m putting a pizza in the oven you’ll get my face back in a few minutes you drama queen.”

“What kind of pizza?” He feels as if he already knows the answer because wine and pizza seem to be your usual Friday evening routine and he’s only ever seen you make one type.

“I’ll give you three guesses and if you get it wrong then I’m hanging up and unmatching with you.” You threaten as you grab your phone allowing him to see your face again after what was really only a few minutes but to Harry felt like half an hour.

“Three cheese on one of those flatbread crusts?” Harry guesses and when he sees you smile he knows he’s right making him grin in return.

“Wow a man who pays attention. You’re a rare gem Harry Styles let me tell ya.” Harry laughs as he clasps his dainty pearl necklace closed, ignoring the way his cheeks feel a bit warm at your compliment.

“I like learning new things about you so of course I’m paying attention to you love.”

“Stop it.” You place a hand over your face as your cheeks turn a light shade of pink making Harry smile. “You aren’t allowed to say things like that to me Harry it’s rude.”

“Rude? It’s just the truth.”

“Because what am I supposed to say to that?”

“You don’t have to say anything.” He reassures as you finally lower your hand allowing him to see your face again. He gives you a soft smile as the two of you just stare at one another for a moment. Harry can practically see his words sinking in, him admitting that he likes learning things about you and he doesn’t really have time to get nervous that maybe he overshared or said something wrong as he watches as you slowly start to smile and look away from him.

The two of you have casually flirted with each other but it normally is in the middle of random conversations and most of the time it’s been over texts exchanged during the week, so hearing him make a comment like that to your face is something you aren’t quite used to. But you don’t hate how it makes you feel, all the butterflies it causes to erupt in your tummy and how pink your cheeks get. And you know it’s not because it’s Harry Styles saying it, it’s because someone you’ve found yourself developing a rather large crush on is saying it as his way of dropping little hints of how he’s feeling about you.

“I like the pearls.” You motion to your neck and Harry just smiles as he takes a small step backwards so he can show you his hands letting you see which rings he went with. “Oh no initials?”

“Eh everyone at this dinner knows my name so there’s no need for them.” You laugh as he shoots you a playful wink.

“That isn’t why you wear them Harry and you know it.” Harry just shrugs as you grab the phone and carry it with you as you head back into the living room to grab your wine glass.

“No I wear them because I’m a narcissist right? That’s what the rumor is?” He questions as he watches you take a sip of your wine that is in fact red making him smile to himself.

“I have no clue? Are there rumors about your rings?” You ask with a raised brow as you place your glass down on your counter before leaning your phone against your coffee maker so you can check on your pizza that’s in the oven.

“I don’t really know actually. I know people think I’m like a hand guy and-”

“Well yeah you’re totally a hand guy.”

“What? I am no-”

“You have a song about choking someone and you have that cross tattoo and all the rings.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m-I’m a hand guy? That just means I like rings and uhm the choking thing isn’t like-”

“Harry.” He stops his rambling and looks at you the moment his name slips out of your mouth making him let out a huff as you just stare at him with an oven mitt on one hand and the other resting on your hip. “We listen and we don’t judge okay? It’s fine. Besides you have nice hands.”

“Thank you.” Harry feels like his cheeks are going to be permanently flushed a light shade of pink with the amount of blushing you have him doing. You hear a light dinging sound come from your phone as you put your oven mitt on the counter.

“Was that you or me?” You ask as the corners of Harry’s mouth start to droop a bit.

“It was me. My driver is here.” You want to roll your eyes at how he lets out a sigh as if going to dinner with his friends and a few label people is the absolute worst thing he could be doing with his Friday night.

“Well have fun and I’ll talk to you later okay?” Harry just gives you a smile as he nods and runs a hand through his hair.

“Don’t worry I’ll be sure to fill you in on any hot gossip I hear.” You laugh as you grab your wine glass so you can take a sip. “Enjoy your pizza and your wine. I’ll talk to you later love.” You smile as he gives you a small wave that you return with your free hand and before he ends the call he quickly blows you a kiss that makes your face get hot just as the screen goes black.

What are you doing right now?

You smile as you read Harry’s text, having spent most of the morning chatting with him about how his dinner went last night you’re not shocked at his sudden subject change. You quickly type out a reply before grabbing your sunglasses and your water bottle and walking out your front door.

About to go on a little walk. What about you?

Harry chews on his bottom lip as he reads over your text, he doesn’t know why he feels a sense of nervousness begin to overtake him for simply wanting to hit the FaceTime button near your contact name in his phone. Now that he knows he wouldn’t really be interrupting anything serious, not that walks aren’t important because he knows you enjoy your “hot girl mental health walks” as you call them and go on a few a week but surely you could walk and talk to him at the same time.

“Oh just do it already Harry don’t be a ninny.” He mumbles to himself as he uses his thumb and presses the FaceTime icon.

“Well hello there.” You smile as you answer after just two rings. “Miss my face already huh?” Harry has to laugh to keep himself from just openly admitting that yes, he did miss you a bit because he didn’t get his usual amount of time with you last night due to his dinner plans.

“How’s the walk going? Are you doing your usual route of going around your neighborhood?” He asks as he notices some trees and bushes in the background as you continue walking down the street near your house.

“Sort of but I’m going left instead of right at the stop sign up ahead.” You inform him as you hold your phone up and flip the camera so Harry can see the stop sign just a few feet in front of you. “See where that leads me.”

“Sounds like an adventure.”

“What’s the pop star got on his agenda today? Anything fun?” Harry just shrugs as he sits down on his couch and runs a hand through his hair.

“No plans today actually.” He answers as you flip the camera back around so he can see your face. “I am feeling a bit restless though so I might go to the gym later-”

“The gym in your house or the gym you do your little boxing stuff at?” You ask before you take a quick sip of water while Harry silently deals with the fact you managed to remember him briefly telling you about his boxing class the other day that he takes at a gym not too far from his house. “What? You thought you were the only one who pays attention?” You joke as a grin takes over Harry’s face as he shakes his head and lets out a chuckle.

“No I just-I don’t know? It feels nice.” He clears his throat before he continues trying to explain how he’s feeling. “I don’t always feel like people are actually hearing what I’m saying. Sometimes I think people sort of get caught up in who I am so they kinda can’t focus on what I’m saying so it’s just a nice feeling to know you’re listening.” You can’t help but feel your heart drop the tiniest bit at Harry’s honesty, having no clue what it must feel like for him to not know if what he’s saying is even registering with whoever he’s talking with or if it’s just going in one ear and out the other because they let the fact he’s Harry Styles get in the way of really hearing him.

“Well you do talk a lot but don’t worry I’m always listening even if sometimes I look like I’m not.”

“Oh yeah? Like that time you were asleep? Were you listening then love?”

“I wasn’t asleep I was just resting my eyelids. Blinking all day is hard work.”

“Last time I checked sweetheart that’s just called sleeping.” He doesn’t mean to let the petname slip out but he also isn’t mad that it did because in his mind he’s been talking and getting to know you for three weeks now so calling you something other than love isn’t that bad, or at least he hopes you don’t take it badly.

“Okay and when was the last time you checked? Because I wasn’t asleep. I responded to your question and everything.” You can’t help the smile that takes over your face as you try to keep the conversation going without letting Harry know how his little petname has you feeling like you’re back in high school talking to a crush. But of course Harry notices right away how your cheeks get pink and your smile seems to stretch extra wide as you continue on your walk, finally reaching the stop sign and heading left.

The two of you continue talking as you enjoy your walk through a new part of your neighborhood. You notice once you’re about five minutes away from where you turned left that the houses in this part of the neighborhood are mostly gated and a bit on the bigger side than the ones in the part you live in. Harry is in the middle of telling you a story from his One Direction days when he notices you stopped walking.

“Everything okay?” His voice is only mildly filled with concern as he can clearly see you’re not hurt and for the most part he can see you’re still alone on the sidewalk you’re currently walking on.

“Oh yes sorry I just got distracted by these flowers.” You say with a laugh as you turn the camera around once again so Harry can see the flowers that had you stopping in your tracks.

Now Harry could argue that he’s quite used to being sort of caught off guard, having been stopped at random and sometimes inconvenient times by people asking for a photo or just wanting to say hi. But being actually shocked isn’t something he’s used to, so when you turn your camera around to show him some flowers he isn’t at all prepared to see his own flower bed appear on your screen. The reason he knows it’s his flower bed that he has right outside his front gate is because of the roses, something his mother planted there during one of her visits and he makes sure to take excellent care of them.

“Uhm those-those are very pretty.” He answers as he quickly gets up from his comfortable spot on the couch and heads for his kitchen where he keeps the tablet that shows the cameras he has around the outside of his house.

“Right? I love roses they are simple but so pretty.” You explain as you flip the camera back just as Harry is taking a little look at the camera he has on his front gate and sure enough on the screen he sees you standing there holding your phone up while slightly bent over so you can smell his roses.

“What color roses are your favorite? I quite like the classic red ones if I’m being honest.” He asks in an attempt to get you to stay where you’re at for as long as it takes him to find and put on his shoes.

“Oh the reds are lovely but the pink-” You stop talking when you hear a sound coming from behind you that sounds an awful lot like a door opening and then shutting.

“Pink huh? I don’t know why I had you pegged for yellow or maybe orange.” Harry watches your shoulders go tense as he stands behind you, right outside his gate. You look down at your phone and see Harry has turned his camera around so all you’re seeing is your back letting you know you’re in fact not dreaming and his voice is really coming from directly behind you.

“Oh my god.” You mumble as Harry ends the FaceTime call so he can slide his phone into the back pocket of his jeans. You slowly turn around and slide your sunglasses up so you can see him better. He gives you a smile and a small wave as you put your phone in the side pocket of your leggings.

“You’re real.” Harry laughs at your comment as you take a small step towards him as if you’re worried he might disappear if you get too close.

“I am.” He answers with a smile as he also takes a step towards you but unlike you he’s not worried about you disappearing he is more so worried you don’t think he’s actually standing here.

“It’s nice to finally meet-” Before he can finish his sentence you’re dropping your water bottle on the ground causing a metallic clanging sound to be heard as it lands, then you’re wrapping your arms around him in a hug that he immediately returns.

“You smell good.” Your voice is muffled a bit as your face is pressed against Harry’s chest but you know he heard you because you feel his chest vibrate as he lets out a low chuckle.

“Would you uhm mind some company on the rest of your walk?” He asks nervously once the two of you pull away. You give him a small nod before you turn to grab your water bottle off the ground.

“I’d love some.” Harry smiles as you slide your sunglasses back down and turn so you’re facing him. He takes a step towards his flower bed and you watch him bend down and reach out for one of the roses.

“Since you like them so much.” He explains as he stands up and hands you one of his roses, you let out a sigh as you take it from him with a smile.

“That was smooth Harry real smooth.”

“Yeah that’s probably the smoothest I’ve ever been.”

“So it’s all downhill from here then?” You tease as you bring the rose up to your nose and give it a sniff. Harry laughs as he takes a step to the side so he can stand next to you on the sidewalk.

“Exactly.” Is all he says as the two of you begin walking down the street, you keep the rose in your hand while Harry has to shove his in his pocket so he doesn’t try to reach over and grab yours.

“Looking forward to it.”

[sunnywiz]

pairing: mingi x afab chubby!reader

contains: smut(mdni!), pet names(doll, good/dirty girl), fingering, cunnilingus, simp!mingi, a little cursing

wc: 1k (what the)

susu's note: i lowk love and hate this at the same time.. requests are open btw!

When you and Mingi met for the first time in a cafe, his eyes immediately lit up in interest towards you. You just had made your order and were on your way to a table but ran into him when he got into the cafe. 

He started scanning over your body with his eyes and said wow quietly to himself. He loved the way your tight t-shirt hugged your curves and showed off a little bit of your tummy. Your long white summer skirt flowed a little in the air as the cafe door closed. You thought you weren’t in the best condition but in his eyes you were in the perfect fit. I mean, who wouldn’t love a little curviness in a girl.

Mingi was standing there in front of you with his jaw all the way on the floor, poor guy almost drooling. You looked at him in confusion, you got very entertained by his very random and sudden reaction.

”Are you okay?” you asked him, letting out a laugh since he still was in his thoughts. Mingi snapped out of it immediately and apologized to you, then quickly walked away to a table. You got confused by his action but decided to brush it off and got to your table.

You felt a pair of dark eyes on you the whole time you were drinking your coffee. It was certainly not the best feeling in the world. But when you had just finished and were getting up, the same guy from before walked past you at a fast pace, dropping a napkin with his number on the table. There was also a simple sentence above the number. ”Call me”.

~~~

You and Mingi had been dating for a while now and he has made it clear multiple times that he didn’t care if you were a little chubby. In fact he thought it was one of your best qualities and he absolutely was against any diets or you trying to lose weight.

”Doll, you know I love your body. You’re like a goddess to me, seriously” he said as you both finished your dinner and got up. You slapped his chest playfully and he acted like he was hurt. ”Stop joking around, Mingi” you pouted at him. 

Your words caused something to snap in him. ”You think I’m joking? Do you really think I’m messing around?” he looked down at you with his eyes dark. Mingi almost looked like a predator trying to mess with his prey’s mind. You got flustered and looked away from him. He immediately grabbed your chin and made you look at him again.

”You know I don’t play when we’re talking about you, doll” you are loving the pet name he gave you more and more every second. Mingi put his arms around your waist and slid them down to your ass, giving the cheeks a firm squeeze.

You started getting into the mood, forgetting about all of your insecurities and actually about everything in the world, but him. He pulled you

close and kissed you deeply. You kissed him back and parted your lips ever so slightly to let his tongue wander and explore all of the inside of your mouth.

He picked you up with ease in his muscular arms and brought you to your bedroom. He placed you down on your bed carefully not wanting to hurt you. But his actions other than that told a very much different story.

Mingi hovered over your body and pulled your shirt off, leaving you only with a bra on. ”Baby you are so incredibly beautiful” he said as he started kissing you all over your torso. He quickly also undid your bra exposing your bare chest and he groaned to himself. 

”Shit doll, one day you’ll be the death of me” Mingi said as he went lower and lower with his kisses, finally reaching the band of your shorts. Then he pulled them off with your panties, leaving you all naked and raw on the bed. 

He sat up for a second to admire your figure only for him to dive back down as fast as he got up. He lowered his face to look at your already dripping core.

”Oh dirty girl, you’re liking this, aren’t you?” you nodded slightly in response. He brought his thumb to circle your clit lazily while looking at your face that quickly turned into a very much fucked up one.

”Mingi please..” you begged for his touch. He obeyed your words immediately and dived down to kiss your core. You let out a moan and that only made him more and more excited. He started lapping at your hot wetness with his tongue and you let out more of those erotic noises that went straight to his dick.

You felt him insert two fingers inside of you, one at a time. First was his index finger that made you feel good yet a little empty, but when he put his middle finger in as well you started to feel like heaven. Mingi thrusted his fingers in and out of you at a fast pace at the same time as he lapped at your sweet nectar.

”Ming-…I’m...” you started to feel a knot form in your lower abdomen and your body started to tingle. He got what you meant right away, you were close and he curled his fingers inside you. One of your hands gripped tightly on the bedsheet and the other went straight to Mingi’s hair to pull his mouth even closer.

”Let go for me, doll” he muffled against your core and that’s what you did. You let your juices flow all over his face and neck with a loud moan of his name. ”Shit Mingi..” you said while panting heavily. 

He licked you clean of your juices and hovered over you. He brought his fingers that had been inside of you onto your lips and you opened your mouth, licking and sucking on his digits, tasting yourself. ”Good girl” he said while admiring you. You looked down at your lower parts and saw him having a painfully big looking bulge. 

”Now let’s see how I can make you sound like”.

[inej-ruination-ghafa]

MAKING UP AND OUT - S.B

Warnings: none

Summary: the one where sirius black realises the mistake he has made and tries to make it up

Wordcount: 3.6k

The Gryffindor common room was a haven for the seventh years, especially at 11pm when it was empty and all of the marauders and their associates would gather and drink whilst playing silly muggle board games.

There was one sitting on the table in the middle of the seats and they were barely playing, talking over the game as they would occasionally flick a wand to roll the dice. There was something so nice about the mundane moments in life, where they could all just sit together and forget all of the horrors of life.

Laughter erupted from the group at some joke that Remus made. He was sitting on the edge of Marlene’s armchair and she pushed him off, watching as he stumbled back into the armchair that Alice and Mary were squeezed onto.

You and Peter were sitting on the sofa, your legs sprawled out over most of it, the boy curled into the feral position as he just watched the scene. Dorcas was sitting on the floor below him, knees tucked into her chest.

On the other side of the room was Sirius. He had just come downstairs after a study session and was standing by the staircase, leaning up against the banister as he admired the scene.

The only two missing from the group were Lily and James who were on their patrols as head girl and head boy and whilst it did feel weird for them to hang out without them, it was good for them to spend some time together alone.

“Yes! Yes!” James yelled as he ran through the door, his hands pumping the air as he looked at his friends. Remus stumbled off of the floor and walked over to his friend, placing his hands on his shoulders.

”What? What’s going on?” He asked.

Nobody could ignore the wide smile on his face and there was a moment of tension as they awaited his news, ”She said yes!”

There was a resounding gasp through the group, Dorcas jumping up off of the floor as they all realised that the moment they had all been waiting for had happened, “She did?”

“She said yes! Lily Evans is going on a date with me!” He jumped up in the air with a cheer and the room burst into applause.

After seven years of pining for the redhead girl that sat across from him in potions, he finally had her wrapped around his finger. They had all seen this coming and were all happier than ever for him. The room was flooded with congratulations and cheers as they marvelled at their friends ability to succeed at the long game.

You, on the other hand, sat there for a moment in silence. Lily was one of your closest friends and you were so happy that she had finally decided to go out with James, he was the perfect guy for her.

If only you could have the guy that you had been pining for. Sirius was still standing on the other side of the room, his eyes trained on you, and when you looked up, the two of you locked eyes. It was like he could see the turmoil inside of your soul, the way you were happy for her but at the same time, envious of the relationship.

”We all knew she’d say yes eventually,” Marlene said, leaning over the armchair as she pat James on the cheek, him laughing at her.

When you looked back at Sirius, he was still looking at you and you could feel your cheeks heating up at the intensity of his stare.

Last October, you and Sirius had hooked up and it had been the best night of your life. He had told you that he had feelings for you and that he was hoping that there was something there, that he had wanted to be more than friends for a while.

You could picture him now, his arms wrapped around your body, his bare chest pressed up against your back as you woke up surrounded by him after a drunken night at one of the parties by the black lake.

Two weeks later, he had decided that you should remain as friends because it would be too complicated if you were dating whilst you were all still friends. You agreed with him because it would have blown up the friend group if it didnt work out. Still, there was a feeling in your chest like you were falling in love with him every time you saw him.

He was still flirty, always making jokes about the two of you, or sitting next to you in the crowded rooms, legs pressed up against each other. There was something there stil, an undeniable spark but neither of you had addressed it. So now it was January and your heart hurt every time you saw him even talking to someone else.

So yeah, you were happy for Lily and James but a little piece of your heart shattered all over again as you wondered what could have happened between you and Sirius.

James had finished his shift patrolling the halls so came to join you guys in playing the game, squeezing between you and Peter on the sofa, a hand patting down on his best friends leg as they talked about the ideas for the date.

You looked over at Alice and Marlene, the two sharing a quick whisper, the latter squealing, before Alice cleared her throat, “Guess what else happened?”

“What?” You questioned, brows furrowed in confusion at the amount of announcements going on tonight.

“I told Frank I love him,” she announced.

There was a collective awe from all of the girls in the room and an appreciative nodding from the boys as they all listened to the story of how they were hanging out at Hogsmeade, cuddled up at a booth and then she just blurted it out.

”Merlin, that’s amazing,” Mary said, smiling at the interaction.

Marlene narrowed her eyes, “He said it back, right?”

Alice nodded enthusiastically, not wanting to give anyone the impression that it wasn’t mutual, “Of course, it was so perfect,”

there it was again. You could feel that little piece of your heart chipping away at yet another happy relationship that had occurred within the friendship group and how they were working out.

Every time you closed your eyes, you would see Sirius there at the party, his hand brushing the hair out of your face as he leaned down to kiss you, pulling you up to his face.

You could feel the tears burning behind your eyes as you thought about everything that the two of you could have had and how easily he had thrown it all away, like it meant absolutely nothing to him.

You knew that if you stuck around any longer, listening to Alice recount the story to them all, that you would burst into tears in front of all of your friends so you stood up, stepping over the beer bottles that littered the floor, and headed towards your stairs.

“Ill be back in a min, just going to grab my water bottle,” you said, informing Remus as he asked where you were going.

You walked towards the staircase and you cursed yourself for using that excuse because you knew that would mean having to get close to Sirius. You could smell his signature cologne within seconds, your head tilting up to give him a polite smile as you started to walk past him.

“Hey,” he reached out and grabbed onto your arm, stopping you from moving. It was a light grip but you understood that he wanted you to stay so you didn’t fight him, “Where you going?”

It was painful enough to be close to him but now, with his long fingers wrapped around your wrist, you could feel your body heating up, your eyes trailed up along the veins on his arms from where he had rolled his sleeves up, along the obvious muscle of his arms exposed by his tight shirt, past the two moles on his neck, along his strong prominent jaw.

Your face was heating up the more you looked at him and you averted your eyes before he could notice how flustered you had become, “I’m thirsty,”

You shook your arm out of his grasp and he watched as you rushed upstairs away a from him as fast as you possibly could.

You sat down on your bed, head collapsing in your hands at the humiliation of the whole situation because he must know that you still like him and there he was, taunting you like he always did.

A tear slipped down your cheek against your own will and you quickly wiped away. Merlin, this was so pathetic of you to be upset because some measly guy didnt like you back. You could ask out any guy in this castle and they might say yes but the issue is that you didn’t want just anyone, you wanted him. He was everything that you had ever wanted.

Sure, Sirius Black had a plethora of issues from his problems with his family to his avoidance of being in a relationship but you could care less about all of that because you knew that there was something between the two of you.

You took a deep breath and stood up, walking to the vanity on the other side of the room and looking at yourself. Your eyes were a little red and there was a small smudge of mascara on the apples of your cheek but you wiped it away and prepared to leave.

That’s when you spotted his face through the mirror. He was just standing at the door, looking at you with that intense stare.

“Your mama never taught you that staring is rude Black?” You said before turning around to face him, folding your arms across your chest

He hummed in response, a cocky look on his face, “Mum never taught me anything,”

You could feel your face heating up in embarrassment. You were so ready to spite him that you had forgotten the biggest issue he dealt with, “yeah, sorry,”

”I should be the one apologising,”

You scoffed, “For what?”

“The way I have been treating you since that night, for starters,” those were the words that you had been wanting to hear for weeks yet you were sitting here and they were rolling off of you like it didn’t matter.

“You shouldn’t apologise. You told me not to do it if I thought I’d get attached and look where we are now,” you shook your head because the words were the truth. You never should have done it because you knew you would fall for him.

You looked away from him, the embarassment creeping up on you again. Being this vulnerable with him used to be easy but there was something about having to admit your feelings for him knowing that he probably didn’t feel the same way that left a sickening feeling in your gut.

There was a beat of silence and Sirius pursed his lips together, trying to decide if he was making a mistake in what he was about to admit, “I think I was speaking for both of us,”

You hummed in response. That was not the reply that you had expected, “That so?”

there was something about this whole situation that felt icky, like he was lying to you. Maybe because he was, maybe because you were just scared that he was telling the truth and that was just the worst possible scenario.

”Yeah, I think I got a little attached too,” he replied.

You shook your head because there was no way that was how he had felt, “You were the one that said we should stop this,” you gestured between the two of you.

there was no word for whatever was going on between you, more than friends but less than lovers. Everyone always wanted this, to be friends first and then fall in love but the waiting was agonising. The constant questioning if they really felt the same way towards you was slowly tearing you apart and you wondered if Sirius could see it, the very fabric of your being being unthreaded by his words.

”I know that,” he responded. It was so monosyllabic, like he didn’t even care.

There was something about his tone that caused the blood to boil in your veins, like he was so nonchalant about his feelings.

“You were the one that told me that you weren’t sure if you had feelings for me?” The words were starting to get agressive, all of that anger that had been kept inside of your chest finally coming out.

“I know that,” you scoffed again at the nonchalant tone to his voice.

You brushed a hand over your face, the frustration obvious now, “Okay. So why are we dragging this out again? It hurt enough to get over it the first time,” you asked.

Sirius rolled back and forth on the balls of his feet, a habit you had noticed after all of the years of knowing him. You knew him better than most people do, more than anyone. You could pinpoint the moles on his body, number the freckles on his face, tell people how he likes his coffee, the music he likes to listen to when nobody else is listening. There were parts of him he had only revealed to you so you knew he was nervous when he rocked back and forth on his feet.

“Because-“ he swallowed and you watched as he fiddled with the rings on his fingers, staring down at his hands. You waited for the rest of the sentence but you were getting annoyed, “-because I’m not quite over it either,”

”Shut up,” you spat the words out with a venom that had never been directed at Sirius.

You didn’t even have time to be shocked at his confession because you were sure that it was a lie, that he was teasing you for some sick, masochistic reason. There was no way that he felt the same way about you.

This. This whole situation had been caused by im being scared to get into a relationship with you and now he was here trying to retcon it. You were not having any of it.

the only thing you could think to do was leave before the tears that were burning behind your eyes spilled over and you embarrassed yourself in front of him even more. So you tried to storm past him, shoulder bumping into his. He grabbed onto your arm, his grip firm but gentle.

You weren’t having it. You pulled your arm out of his grip and he let go quickly, “Don’t,” you spat out, giving him a glare that was normally reserved for irritating Slytherins.

He muttered your name in the way he always does, voice low and sexy. It made chills go up your spine, even if you didn’t want to feel that way about him.

You shook your head, ignoring the way he said your name, “Do not do this to me,”

“Do what?” His brows were furrowed and his eyes narrowed like he didn’t know the effect he had on you.

“Make me think you love me! You’re driving me crazy!” Your words were loud as you looked at him, eyes wide.

You had felt crazy from the moment that you had kissed him, like a puzzle piece had finally been clicked into place and then immediately knocked away. You had been overthinking every little thing that he did and you couldn’t do it anymore.

The eye contact between you and Sirius was intense and you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes away from him. There was something pulling you two together, like a magnet. You had to get away so you brushed past him but this time he didn’t grab onto you to stop you.

“I’m so worried that I am falling in love with you and that is why I have been pushing you away,” the words came tumbling out of his mouth before he even had a moment to think about the consequences.

You froze on the spot, eyes widening as you realised what he had said. There was no way that the man thaat you were falling for had just admitted the same thing to you, it wasn’t plausible.

Slowly, you spun around on your heel to look at him and you saw him standing there in the middle of the room, eyes wide like a puppy. The second you had stormed off, he had panicked and admitted what he had been holding in for weeks, he was trying to make you stay.

”If this is some joke, I will kill you,” you said, trying to hide the way your lip wobbled as you held back tears.

He nodded, giving you a sympathetic smile, “Reasonable,”

“What isn’t reasonable is why you’ve been playing with my emotions for months,” you weren't going to let him off so easy. You had felt like shit for so long and one admission of love was never going to be enough to make you come back to his side.

He gave you a look like he felt guilty about the way he had treated you, and you were sure it was genuine. You just weren’t sure how easily you were going to get over it.

You thought back to the way that you would lie in your bed, a numb feeling in your chest as you played over moments that the two of you had shared, trying to understand where it went wrong.

Sirius gave you a look like he understood that he had made a mistake, “I've needed some time to figure out how i feel,”

“And you couldn’t have communicated that to me?” You asked.

“I needed some time,” he replied, like it would change everything you had gone through.

”Okay-” you folded your arms over your chest. You knew you would forgive him for it all, because your love was stronger than that. Still, you wanted to see what lengths he would go to in order to make it up to you, “So what are you gonna do about it now,”

there was a teasing tone to your words and he smiled to himself. The tension eased up between you and that great divide between you seemed to shrink with every step that he took towards you.

When he stood in front of you, towering over you like he always did, you could feel your heart racing. For the first time in months, you didn’t feel like that idiot that had been played by Sirius Black.

There were butterflies in your stomach as you looked up at him, his eyes baring into yours. It was like the first time you had kissed, standing outside of the Black Lake, his focus unwavering.

He hesitated for a second, almost like he was nervous. Then, he reached up and cupped your face in his hands, holding you so gently like you were porcelain that could break at any wrong move, “I’m gonna kiss you, and I’m gonna take you on a date and I am going to make this right,”

You hummed in response, trying to keep your composure but you were definitely a little bit flustered at how close he was to you, “You still have a lot of grovelling to do Black,”

“I know baby,” the nickname made your cheeks heat up even more, his voice low and sultry, “But will you give me a second chance,”

You sighed, trying to hide the smile that was creeping out from your mouth, “Of course,” you said, leaning in to close the gap between the two of you, capturing his lips in yours.

The whole world slowed as you kissed him, it was gentle at first, just a press of your lips. As he got more desperate, the kiss became more forceful, his tongue slipping between your lips.

Your hands came up to his shoulders, gripping onto the fabric there. Your heart was racing a million miles a minute and it felt like you were flying.

When you pulled apart, he rested his forehead against yours and smiled to himself, “Thank you, for giving me a second chance,”

You opened your eyes and looked at him, the red flush spreading across his cheeks. You leaned in and pressed your lips against his quickly in a chaste kiss, “Don’t screw it up,”

“Yes ma’am,” he muttered before kissing you again. He wasn’t going to mess it up, ever.

[shivunin]

Honey and Lavender

In which Lucanis grapples with his feelings for Rook after their near-kiss in his bedroom (AO3 Link)

(Rook Ingellvar/Lucanis | 3,586 Words | No CW, romance progression spoilers)

“Who has seen the wind? Neither I nor you: But when the leaves hang trembling, The wind is passing through.” —Christina Rossetti, “Who Has Seen the Wind?”

No matter what he’d told Rook, stepping out of the dining room did not help Lucanis clear his head. No matter where he stood, it would always be too loud, too cramped. 

“Go back,” Spite snapped. 

Lucanis wrapped his hands around the wood railing and squeezed, trying to shake the sensation of Rook’s breath on his cheek. She had been so very close—close enough to breathe her in, to feel the brush of her clothing against his. Close enough to touch, though he had not done so.

“No,” he said. 

Spite loomed in his peripheral vision, his face pinched. 

“No,” Lucanis repeated, his grip tightening until the uneven wood pressed hard into his palms. “We have to stay focused. Getting attached without—no. No, it is a poor idea.”

“Liar,” Spite spat. “Make up your own reasons later. I want to touch her. Go inside.”

The demon’s grip tightened, like a fist around the base of his neck. Lucanis gritted his teeth and pushed back. Waking from sleep to find himself already standing, the taste of strange words on his tongue, had become all too familiar. 

Rook’s presence when he woke was also not unfamiliar. He wished he knew how to feel about that. 

That was, in the end, the problem: he didn’t know how to feel. He didn’t know which of them wanted Rook, or for what. When he thought of setting his hand on her shoulder, was that his or Spite’s? When he imagined how her bare hands would feel on his face, was that something Spite wanted, for reasons beyond Lucanis’s understanding? Or worse, was it the remnants of infiltration training he’d rarely cared to use?

How could he hope to understand when Spite would not stop saying that?

“I said no,” Lucanis told him. “She isn’t for touching. She is—”

A what? A client? A friend? An associate, he had called her when Teia had flirted with her, and realized too late that she’d only done it to prod him. Rook was none of those things; she defied easy categorization. Rook was a threat when threatened, a friend when friendship was offered, a leader when leadership was called for, his voice of reason when it seemed easiest to believe the worst of himself…

Rook was important. He would never pretend otherwise. It didn’t make any of this less of a distraction. 

“She wanted to touch. You wanted to. I felt it,” Spite said, and Lucanis felt the demon’s grip tighten at the base of his neck. He gritted his teeth against the pressure and tightened his grip on the railing. 

“It does not matter what I want,” he said, and with some force pushed the demon further away from his mind again. 

Alone for a moment, Lucanis pressed his knuckles to the trickle of blood that already dripped from his nose. 

She is not for touching, he’d told Spite. 

He wished he knew if he believed it. 

|

Lucanis would have been lying if he’d said he wasn’t watching Rook more closely in the aftermath of the near-kiss, but such a lie would have been pointless. Spite saw everything he did and nobody else seemed willing to ask about it. Who would he have lied to? 

At first, he might have thought there was no change in her behavior. She still followed her general routine, sparring and cooking and seeking ways to fight the gods. She still took him with her when she and Neve hunted Venatori in Minrathous and still joked with him when they were around the others. When he walked unsleeping in the rotunda, he could still hear the haunting strains of her violin from the meditation room. 

There should not be any difference, yet he would have sworn that something was amiss. Rook was more prone than usual to drifting silence, gaze fastened somewhere in the distance, a frown furrowing her brow. It wasn’t until several days later that he overheard her speaking to Neve and put the pieces together. 

“Hey, there. Something bothering you?” Neve asked. The door to the dining room creaked shut. “You haven’t seemed like yourself these past few days.”

There was a long silence, which Lucanis disregarded. Whoever she spoke to, it was not his current concern. He needed to prepare for—

“Do you think people are capable of changing?” Rook asked.

Lucanis, who’d been in the middle of a long series of stretches, paused and listened. 

“Rook!” Spite said. 

Lucanis resisted the urge to tell him to be quieter; nobody would hear the demon but him. 

“What sort of change do you mean?” 

Soft sounds, liquid pouring (“Eugh—smells like burned coffee,” Spite muttered, and Lucanis could not blame him), and a quiet sigh. Lucanis slipped silently to the door and stood very still just before the threshold.

“Because,” Neve went on, “I have a hard time believing some people can change. You know, lifetime of power and murder makes it a little hard to start thinking that other people matter, for example. But if you’re talking about, say, learning to like a new food? I’d say yes.”

Rook laughed slightly. Something scraped—a chair pulling away from the table. When she spoke again, her voice was much quieter. Lucanis had to strain to hear her. 

“I mean—do you think we’re doomed to make the same mistakes over and over again forever?” 

A pause. Footsteps—Neve’s. 

“I’ve got a lot of experience in being where I’m not wanted,” Rook went on. “I mean, it’s sort of what has to be done when it comes to our current situation. But even before that, I was used to people—I mean people I cared about—I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m asking, I suppose.”

“No, go on,” Neve said, and a second chair scraped over stone. 

“You’re a detective,” Rook began, and paused. 

“I am, yes.”

“How do you know when you’re putting clues together and when you’re reading into something that isn’t there.” 

Spite hissed.

“Ah,” the syllable carried a heavy weight. 

Lucanis braced his hand against the wall and bent forward, anchoring himself to the sensation of solid stone against his fingertips. Something that isn’t there. She could mean anything. He wasn’t willing to try to fool himself into thinking she meant anything other than whatever was happening between the two of them. 

“I lay out the facts,” Neve said at last. “Clear as I can. What was actually done, what was actually said, what I know about the situation as a whole. I write it all down together, get everything I know in one place.”

Someone sipped from their cup. The hearth on the other side of his wall crackled faintly—almost time to add a log. He did not think he would do so while they were still talking. 

“Right,” Rook said at last. “Right. That makes sense.”

“I try to stay out of my head about it,” Neve went on, voice lowered. “Easy way to get distracted from the facts. That’s when you get into trouble.”

“Out of my head,” Rook repeated. “It sounds good in theory, but I’m not sure how I would achieve something like that.”

Neve laughed. 

“Sounds about right,” she said. A chair scraped across the floor again. “But if you want my opinion? Just between the two of us?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re not imagining it.” 

Soft footsteps—Neve’s—and the creak of the door. Slowly, it creaked closed again. In the other room, Rook sighed and pushed her chair away from the table. Her footsteps were quiet—barefoot again, even after she’d scraped her foot on the wooden steps to Davrin’s room last week. They hardly grew louder when she approached his room. 

Lucanis, still leaning against the wall, curled his hand into a loose fist and tried to decide if it was worth pretending he’d been doing something else. Maybe he would resolve this instead, make it clear he’d heard her. That he thought…

What did he think? 

That he’d only really slept once since they’d almost kissed and he’d dreamt of pressing her back against this wall and tasting her? That he had been wondering what her hair might feel like caught between his fingers? That Spite talked over everyone but her, that his fascination with her had probably been sparked by Lucanis’s? That he was no longer entirely convinced that he felt like this only because of Spite?

That it had only occurred to him to want to do this once before and it had been a disaster?

His door creaked slightly, as if Rook’s hand rested upon it. This close, he could hear the soft intake of her breath. She was only a few inches away—less than a foot. He could open the door himself. He could tell her…

The door rattled slightly as the pressure on it released, followed by a soft sigh and footsteps moving away. 

“She’s walking away,” Spite snapped, surging for the door. 

Lucanis reached for the handle before he caught himself, violet sparks burning in the corners of his eyes. He shook his head and stepped back slowly, deliberately. His hand stretched forward against his will, grasping for something it could not reach.

“Let me talk to Rook,” Spite went on, as he so often did. “Open the door.”

Rigidly, Lucanis walked back to his cot and sat, wrapping one hand tightly around the other. In the next room, the door swung open and closed again. 

“She’s leaving. Now!” Spite said, seizing his hands. 

The demon warred with him for control. Lucanis pushed him away, but the effort took several minutes and left him exhausted. Temporarily alone, he pressed a hand to his face and took several long, slow breaths. 

If he could touch her without touching her—if there were some way to make his feelings clear while holding her at a safe distance…

Unbidden, he remembered the way she’d smiled at him that first time in the cafe. Surprised, cheeks slightly flushed; he had not had her measure then. He was not entirely sure he had it now, for she spoke so little about herself. But she had smiled at him and said—

That was it. 

Lucanis stood, remembering precisely which set of stretches he’d left off on before the conversation in the other room. He had a plan now. Now, he had only to wait for the right time to set it in motion. 

|

“Do you think Harding believed you?” Lucanis asked from the other side of the fireplace. 

Rook, midway through dumping her pile of vegetables into the stewpot, glanced at him. 

“About the letter from her mum? ‘Course she did. There was an actual letter.”

“Oh?” he lifted a brow and angled his head to the side. The firelight traced the lines of his face the way she would’ve liked to, painting dark hollows under his eyes and limning the angle of his nose and cheekbones with gold. He was just so—

Shouldn’t be watching him like this. It’d been days since they’d almost kissed. She’d been strong. Focused. Had kept things aboveboard and friendly, no matter how much she wanted to ask him…

What? What could she say, really? How’s your head feeling these days? Pretty clear? No, that was silly. There was too much else to be worrying about to worry about whatever was between—whatever she’d imagined was between them. 

“You’re not imagining it,” Neve had told her, but it felt awfully dangerous to believe her. The consequences for believing her and being wrong would be far worse than she could handle right now. Worse than all of them could handle, if she was being honest. More than anything, it was her responsibility to make sure that they all held together. There was no room for her to make a mistake that big over her own feelings. 

“Well, I remembered it was Lace’s turn to cook,” she told him, focusing on the cutting board with far more attention than was warranted, “and Davrin may have mentioned something about an alarming amount of cheese earlier…”

“It was for a cheese soup, I believe,” Lucanis agreed, and his hands moved in her periphery. Taking another sip of coffee, presumably. She suspected it was a proportionately significant component of his blood content at this point. She wasn’t going to watch the way his lips moved when he pressed them to the rim of the cup. 

“You can’t be serious,” she said, though she knew he was. Lace had been most of the way through grating a block of cheese when Rook had walked in. 

“You don’t think her capable of it?” 

Rook laughed at that, settled the lid on the pot, and turned away again. There was half a block of grated cheese to do something with now—a troubling thought, since none of the rest of them were Fereldan and thus did not share the scout’s love of cheese. Maybe she’d just set it aside and Bellara would make khachapuri again. 

“Well, in any case,” she went on. “The letter came in a little earlier. I may have waited until she’d started cooking to let her know.”

“Devious.”

“You wouldn’t be the first to say so.”

She tapped her hips, surveying the available ingredients before selecting a likely-looking loaf of bread. Lucanis shifted in her periphery. Despite herself, she looked at him. He’d pressed a hand to his face, forefinger and thumb pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Spite?” she asked, and he nodded. “He want to say anything in particular or is he just hungry, too?” 

The muscle in his jaw twitched. Slowly, deliberately, he set his mug on the table beside him. 

“It is nothing worth sharing. I will brew more coffee. Would you like some?” 

What could she say? Pity would shame him and sympathy was hardly better. She sometimes wished she had Emmrich’s talent for hearing spirits. Perhaps if she could address both of them at once…but no. Maybe letting him do something for her would help. He seemed comforted by taking care of the people around him in that way.

“If you’re making it.”

“Sweet with cream, yes?” he said. 

The soft sounds of metal and glass to her left told her he’d already begun. Could he see her smiling? Surely not. She’d turned her head enough that she wouldn’t be caught. 

“You remembered.”

“How could I forget?” he said. 

She laughed. He didn’t, but Rook was distracted enough in retrieving the bread knife that she hardly noticed. Water bubbled in the kettle and was poured into Lucanis’s coffeemaker. The fire crackled between them, its sound like a warm blanket over her shoulders. All at once, for no apparent reason, she felt—well, it was strange, but she could almost say she felt a sense of belonging, of rightness, like she was meant to be here at this moment with him. Her hand stilled on the knife, as if moving too much would dispel the sensation.

Had she ever felt like this before? Like she belonged anywhere that wasn’t the Necropolis? Maybe it didn’t matter if he wanted her or not. Maybe it was enough just to be near him, to know that he cared. Maybe it was enough to be in a place where people cared about her and told her so, where she cared enough to cook for them and worry about who would eat what. 

A place where somebody remembered how she liked her coffee. 

“Rook?” Lucanis asked, abruptly beside her. 

“Sorry,” she said, straightening. “Did you say something? I was…lost in thought.”

Whenever he looked at her, she had the odd feeling that he was reading something far deeper than her skin. She often wondered how much he saw, how much he understood without ever asking. 

“Your coffee,” he said at last, and held out one of the delicate coffee cups that’d appeared in the kitchen shortly after his arrival. 

Rook took it, still trying to cling to that feeling of comfort. His hand lingered on the mug, brushing against hers. His skin was warm, unexpectedly so. She wished that she could linger in the heat of it, but perhaps the warmth of the mug could satisfy that want instead. 

“Thank you. You make the best coffee—but I’m sure you know that.” 

“Nobody else here has the experience,” he agreed, and drank from his own cup. 

Lenore blew across the surface of hers and took a sip, wary of the heat. Lucanis seemed less sensitive to it than she was and she’d burned her tongue on his coffee more than once. Caution had made her careful. 

There had been no reason for her caution; this was the perfect cup of coffee. It was slightly cooler than boiling, perfectly sweet (though it was a warm sweetness that could not have come from sugar), and tasted faintly of…what was that? She closed her eyes and drank more deeply, trying to name the flavor. 

Coffee, honey, cream, and…something floral. 

Lavender! That was lavender. Oh. 

Honey and lavender cream, sweet and intriguing, he’d said at Cafe Pietra. Like a first kiss. 

When she opened her eyes again, Lucanis was still watching her, index finger tracing the whorl in the ceramic cup he still held. Two steps away—that was all. Such a small distance. She could have closed it so very easily.

“Honey and lavender cream,” she said. Her breath seemed to have deserted her; the words came out in a whisper, so quiet that someone standing on the other side of the hearth would not have heard them. 

His eyes were—she never stopped thinking about them, but they seemed especially deep, especially fathomless in that moment. She wanted to touch his face, to trace the dark lines of his beard, to cup the angle of his cheekbone. She wanted to watch his eyes change when she kissed him, wanted to know if that self-contained focus of his would dissolve or sharpen in response. 

“I can make you something else if you would prefer,” he said. His voice was as quiet as hers had been, but so gentle it hurt her heart to hear. 

“This is perfect,” she said. She drank again while he watched. The coffee was just as sweet and luscious and strange the second time. She’d never tasted anything like it. 

“Perfect,” she repeated. “The best I’ve ever had, I think. Thank you.”

“It was my pleasure,” he said. 

She wondered if Lucanis would turn away and break the moment, but he did not. He stood very still and watched her instead, his own mug cupped in his hands. 

I lay out the facts, Neve had told her. Get everything I know in one place. 

Maybe they were both working on too little information. Maybe the only way to fix that was to put all the facts in one place. 

“What are you thinking?” she asked impulsively, clutching her own mug in mirror to him. Lucanis angled his head, longer strands of hair slowly drifting over his shoulder. 

“I am thinking,” he said at last, “that it may be a poor substitute for the alternative.”

A slow breath. Her heart raced on anyway, refusing to be calmed. The coffee warmed her cool hands and the taste of lavender and honey still lingered on her tongue. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Lenore told him. “I wasn’t exaggerating when I told you it’s been a very long time, and even then I wasn’t any good at it. If this is something you—something you want…I’m not in any rush.”

A ridiculous thing to say, considering the forces arrayed against them and the tight timeline they were always working under. It didn’t feel ridiculous, though. It felt right, in the way that cooking in the same room as him had felt right. Facing the idea of some sort of romance head-on made her feel faintly ill, as if looking down on the world from some great height. But this? It might be roundabout and oblique, but it felt good anyway. 

Lucanis opened his mouth to answer, but the door to the dining room opened and Bellara rushed in. 

“Is it my turn to make dinner? I can’t remember where my copy of the list went. I think it might have gotten stuck under something again. Hi, Rook!” 

“Bellara,” Rook said. “No, you’re fine. It was Harding’s turn, but I took over for her. If you don’t mind, I’m running a little behind. Could you slice the bread while I finish with these?”

“Sure!” Bellara said, slipping between Rook and Lucanis. The latter set his cup on the table and returned to the hearth. 

“I will keep this from burning,” Lucanis said, lifting the pot lid and looking inside.

It already is, Rook thought, for there was heat from her cheeks to the tips of her ears. She said nothing aloud, but took one more sip from her mug before setting it aside. 

As first kisses went, it was certainly better than her last one, and given with a great deal more care and attention. I don’t think you’re imagining it, Neve had told her. Lenore had to agree. This—whatever it was, whatever it would become—was entirely real. 

“What are you humming, Rook?” Bellara asked a moment later. 

Rook, who hadn’t realized she was humming at all, smiled. 

“I don’t think it has a name yet,” she said, “but I’m working on it.”

[enemiestolovershoe]

Best Birthday Ever

Chris Sturniolo x bsf!reader

Summary: Y/N and Chris deepen their friendship turning his 21st birthday into an unforgettable night.

Warnings: SMUT 18+, use of y/n, oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it up pls), friends to lovers, virgin!chris, loosing virginity

Words: 3.8k

Disclaimer: While the characters in this story are inspired by real people, the events and interactions are purely fictional and not reflective of reality.

The very first day of high school felt like an overwhelming blur of unfamiliar faces and nerves. But one thing stood out crystal clear—being assigned to sit next to Chris Sturniolo. It was almost comical how fast you hit it off. Within minutes, your shared sarcastic jokes and mutual confusion about the teacher's seating chart made it seem like you’d known each other for years. That was the beginning of everything.

Soon after, Chris introduced you to his brothers, Matt and Nick, who were his triplets. Meeting them felt like being absorbed into an entirely new world—a chaotic, hilarious, and ridiculously fun one. From that point on, the four of you became inseparable. You were a unit, a team. Movie nights, impromptu late-night drives, junk food binges—you name it, you did it together.

But something shifted when you were around 19. Out of nowhere, your feelings for Chris transformed. What used to be simple friendship became something deeper, something that scared the hell out of you. It hit you like a brick, sudden and unrelenting. Yet, you did your best to suppress it. There was no way you’d risk your friendship for feelings he likely didn’t share. What you didn’t know, though, was that Chris felt the exact same way. He’d been quietly falling for you but chose to hide it, too terrified of losing what you two had.

Then you got a boyfriend. It wasn’t anything serious at first, but things escalated quickly, and before long, you’d lost your virginity to him. Chris’s reaction was colder than you expected, especially when it came to your boyfriend. He was distant, sharp even, whenever the subject came up, though he never fully explained why. Things unraveled when you caught your boyfriend cheating. Devastated, you went straight to the Sturniolo house. Chris was the one who stayed up with you all night, listening to your sobs and holding you as you cried. He never let you go until you felt whole again. Even now, years later, he was still there for you.

After that heartbreak, you never dated again. And now, two years later, everything felt like it had gone full circle. You and the Sturniolos were as close as ever.

At 21, you were the oldest of the group, since the triplets were still 20—though their 21st birthday was only hours away. That’s why you were currently at their house, getting ready for a celebration with their closest friends.

Arriving a bit earlier than the others, you’d decided to get ready with Nick. He always had the best taste in fashion, and you trusted him more than anyone else when it came to looking your best.

“Y/N!” Matt shouted from the doorway, wrapping you in a bear-crushing hug the second you stepped inside. Nick quickly followed suit, pulling you into his arms with a grin. But it was Chris who hugged you the tightest. You noticed how his hands lingered for just a second too long before he finally let you go.

“Geez, Chris, you trying to crush her ribs or something?” Matt teased, smirking knowingly at his brother. Chris shot him a glare, cheeks tinged pink, and mumbled something about “just saying hi.”

Upstairs, you and Nick dove into picking an outfit. “No offense, but that top screams ‘I gave up,’” Nick said, holding up a much more stylish option.

“Excuse me? This top is a classic,” you argued, though you ultimately took his advice.

As you were finishing up your makeup, the door to Nick’s room burst open. Chris stood there, holding a can of Pepsi, his expression caught between nerves and awe. “Uh... I figured you might want something to drink,” he stammered, extending the soda to you.

You couldn’t help but laugh at how flustered he seemed. “Thanks, Chris.”

Nick’s jaw practically dropped. “Wait, hold up—did Chris just willingly share one of his Pepsis? Are we in an alternate universe?”

Chris rolled his eyes, trying to play it cool. “It’s just a drink, Nick. Relax.”

“Sure, just a drink,” Nick teased, winking at you. Chris muttered something under his breath before making a quick exit.

When you finally made your way downstairs, the party was already in full swing. The living room was packed with friends, music thumped through the speakers, and the smell of pizza filled the air. Everyone was laughing, chatting, and enjoying themselves.

It wasn’t long before someone suggested a game of Truth or Dare. The group eagerly circled up, the energy buzzing with anticipation. At first, the questions were lighthearted—“What’s your most embarrassing moment?” or “I dare you to shotgun a beer.” But as the night went on, things took a more daring turn.

One girl turned to you with a mischievous grin. “Y/N, have you ever faked an orgasm?”

The room went silent, all eyes on you. You felt your body tense, memories of your ex flashing through your mind. Chris, who had been leaning against the wall next to you, straightened up, his jaw tightening.

“Yeah,” you admitted quietly, forcing a small smile. “I have.”

The group laughed, some people making jokes, but you could feel Chris’s eyes on you. His gaze wasn’t teasing or curious—it was protective, concerned.

Your turn came, and you directed a question at one of the guests, trying to shift the attention off yourself. After a few more rounds, the attention shifted to Chris.

“Truth or dare, Chris?” one of the guys asked.

Chris hesitated. “Uh... truth.”

The guy smirked, clearly looking to stir up some drama. “When was the last time you got laid?”

The question hung in the air, heavier than any of the others. Chris froze, the usual playful energy in his demeanor completely gone. His brothers exchanged glances, clearly taken aback, and you noticed how he clenched his fists at his sides.

“You okay, Chris?” you asked softly, leaning in just enough so only he could hear.

He swallowed hard, avoiding your gaze. “Yeah... I’m fine.” But his voice betrayed him—it was shaky, uncertain.

Chris hesitated, the silence in the room stretching unbearably before he finally answered, forcing a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ve never gotten laid. Next question.”

The room fell completely silent. A ripple of shock passed through the circle, and even his brothers exchanged surprised glances. Chris’s gaze flickered to the floor, his usual confidence stripped away in an instant.

Without thinking, you reached out and placed your hand gently on his arm, offering silent reassurance. When he glanced at you, your sweet, supportive smile met his uncertain eyes. Slowly, his tense shoulders relaxed, and he managed to return the faintest smile, gratitude shining through his vulnerability.

The moment passed, and the group awkwardly shifted back to drinking, chatting, and carrying on as if nothing had happened. You stuck around for a while, laughing with Matt and Nick as the party carried on, but your eyes kept darting around the room. Chris had vanished.

After a few minutes of scanning the crowd and not spotting him, you excused yourself. “I’ll be right back,” you said to Matt and Nick, who were too deep in conversation to notice the concern lacing your tone.

You made your way upstairs, stopping in front of Chris’s door. Knocking softly, you called out, “It’s me. Are you in there, Chris?”

A few seconds later, the door creaked open, revealing Chris standing there with red, puffy eyes. His usual playful energy was completely gone. He looked vulnerable, broken.

“Chris…” you said softly, your heart sinking at the sight of him. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he gently grabbed your hand and pulled you inside, shutting the door behind you. He took a deep, shaky breath, as if trying to gather his thoughts, but the moment he spoke, it all came tumbling out.

“I’m so fucking embarrassed, Y/N,” he blurted, his voice cracking. He ran a hand through his hair, pacing the room as he continued. “Everybody knows now. They know I’m a virgin. It’s so fucking humiliating. I wanted to lie, I really did, but I just couldn’t. I don’t know why, but I couldn’t.”

Your chest ached at the raw frustration and shame in his voice. Without hesitation, you crossed the room and wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a hug. His hands hovered awkwardly for a moment before he melted into your embrace, clinging to you like a lifeline.

“Chris, listen to me,” you said gently, your voice firm yet comforting. “There is nothing—absolutely nothing—you need to be embarrassed about. You haven’t had sex yet. So what? That doesn’t change who you are. Anyone who thinks differently can shut the fuck up, because they don’t know you the way I do.”

He didn’t say anything, but you could feel the tension in his body slowly fading. You pulled back just enough to look up at him, your hands coming up to cup his face. Your thumbs brushed away the lingering tears on his cheeks as you smiled softly at him.

“You’re still you, Chris,” you continued. “Whether you’ve had sex or not doesn’t change that.”

Chris let out a shaky laugh, though the sadness in his eyes hadn’t completely disappeared. “I just feel like… I don’t know, like I’m behind everyone else. I’m 21, for God’s sake.”

“Not yet,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood. “You’ve still got, what? Half an hour?”

That earned a real laugh from him, though it was tinged with melancholy. “Doesn’t make a difference,” he muttered. “It’s not like I’m going to lose it in the next hour.”

You tilted your head, watching him carefully. “What if you do?”

Chris’s brows furrowed in confusion, his eyes locking onto yours. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” You took a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest. “What if I take your virginity?”

Chris blinked, stunned into silence. He searched your face, trying to figure out if you were joking. “Y/N, stop joking, please. This is serious.”

“I’m not joking, Chris,” you said softly, your voice steady.

His breath hitched. “You—you would do that for me?”

“I’d do anything for you, Chris,” you said, a soft smile spreading across your lips.

For a moment, he just stared at you, his emotions flickering across his face—confusion, disbelief, and something deeper. Then, slowly, as if testing the waters, he leaned in. His lips brushed against yours, tentative and soft.

It was the first time Chris had ever kissed you, and it was everything.

The kiss started soft, like a gentle spark igniting between the two of you, but it quickly grew more heated. Chris’s hands found your waist as you leaned into him, his grip tightening with every passing second. You pushed him back with a playful nudge, and he stumbled onto his bed, his laughter mixing with the sound of the mattress creaking beneath him. Before he could say a word, you climbed onto him, straddling his lap and pulling him up into another deep kiss.

His breath hitched as your core pressed against him, and you could feel him hardening beneath you. The slight friction caused a soft whimper to escape both of you, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. You began moving your hips in slow, deliberate motions, eliciting quiet moans from Chris as he tilted his head back, his fingers digging into your thighs.

“Y/N…” he whispered, his voice breathy, almost pleading. You pulled back just enough to look at him, his cheeks flushed, his blue eyes wide and filled with nervous excitement.

“Relax,” you murmured, your lips brushing against his. Your fingers toyed with the hem of his shirt, tugging at it slightly. “This needs to come off.”

Chris blinked, his nervous smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Yeah, okay,” he said, his voice cracking slightly as he lifted his arms to help you pull his shirt off. The second his chest was bare, you couldn’t help but run your fingers down his torso, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your touch.

“You’re beautiful, Chris,” you said softly, the sincerity in your voice making him blush even harder.

He laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “You can’t just say stuff like that, Y/N. I’m trying to keep it together here.”

You grinned and leaned down, your lips brushing against his jawline. “Who said I want you to keep it together?”

His breath hitched again as your words sank in, and you guided his hands to the hem of your shirt. “You can undress me too, Chris. No need to be shy.”

His eyes met yours, wide with both excitement and hesitation. After a moment, he nodded, his fingers trembling slightly as he lifted your shirt over your head. The way his breath hitched again when he saw the black lace bra you were wearing made you smile.

“Wow…” he muttered under his breath, his eyes glued to you.

You chuckled, reaching for one of his hands. “You can touch me, Chris. It’s okay.”

He looked at you as if asking for reassurance, and when you nodded, he let you guide his hand to your chest. His fingers flexed hesitantly at first, but as he began kneading your breast through the fabric, his confidence grew. His other hand quickly joined, and you couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped your lips as he touched you.

“Does this… feel good?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Better than good,” you replied, leaning down to kiss his neck. Your lips left a trail of soft, open-mouthed kisses along his skin, and his whimpers were like music to your ears.

When his hands faltered slightly, you pulled back just enough to look at him. “You’re doing perfect, Chris.”

He smiled, his cheeks still flushed. “You’re… perfect.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, but you didn’t linger on them for long. Instead, you climbed off his lap, earning a small, disappointed sound from him, and began sliding your skirt down your legs. Now, standing before him in just your matching black lace underwear, you noticed how his eyes roamed over you, filled with awe and adoration.

“You’re staring,” you teased, though his gaze only made you feel more confident.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, though his eyes didn’t leave you. “I just… you’re so beautiful, Y/N.”

You stepped closer, kneeling between his legs as your hands reached for his belt. “You don’t have to be nervous, you know. It’s just me.”

“I’m not nervous,” he insisted, though the way his hands fidgeted gave him away.

You raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Liar.”

He laughed softly, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “Maybe a little.”

You leaned into his touch, your voice soft. “We’ll take it slow, Chris. I promise.”

With that, you focused on unbuckling his belt, taking your time to open the button of his jeans and slide them down his legs. When you glanced up at him, his expression was one of pure anticipation.

“You sure you wanna do this, Chris?” you asked, your tone serious now. “It’s your first time, and I don’t want to make you feel pressured or… repeat the same mistakes I did.”

His hand reached for yours, squeezing it gently. “I’m 100% sure, Y/N. This will never be a mistake to me.”

The conviction in his voice made your chest tighten, and you nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Okay.”

You slid his boxers down next, leaving him completely bare before you. Chris’s cheeks turned crimson, but he didn’t try to hide himself. Instead, he watched you with bated breath as you wrapped your hand around him, your touch gentle as you spread the precum along his length.

“Is this okay?” you asked, wanting to make sure he was comfortable.

“Yeah,” he breathed, his head falling back against the headboard. “It’s more than okay.”

You pumped him slowly at first, watching his reactions carefully. The way his chest rose and fell, the quiet moans spilling from his lips, it all made you want to give him more.

Leaning forward, you swirled your tongue around his tip, savoring the way his hips jerked slightly at the sensation. “Y/N…” he gasped, his hand finding its way into your hair as you began to take more of him into your mouth.

You worked him with a mix of your hand and mouth, listening to the sweet sounds he made. He was a mess beneath you, his moans growing louder and more desperate with every passing second.

“Y/N, I—” His voice broke as he tried to warn you he was close, but just as he was about to reach his peak, you pulled off him, leaving him breathless and whimpering.

Chris’s chest was heaving, his breath ragged as he lay beneath you, trying to compose himself. His cheeks were flushed, his lips slightly parted, and his eyes fluttered open to meet yours. “Why did you stop?” he asked, his voice breathless and laced with desperation.

You leaned down, brushing your lips against his ear as you whispered, “Because I don’t want you to cum yet. I want you to cum with me, pretty boy.”

Chris let out a strangled moan, his head falling back against the pillows as his eyes rolled back. “Fuck…” he groaned, his hands gripping the sheets tightly.

You smirked, loving how completely undone he was beneath you. Slowly, you stood up from your position, your movements deliberate and teasing. His dazed eyes followed you as you straightened, and you held his gaze while hooking your thumbs into the waistband of your panties.

Chris swallowed hard as you stripped them down your legs, his eyes drinking in every inch of you. His breathing grew even shakier as you stepped out of them and stood there, completely bare before him.

“God damn, you’re so beautiful, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice reverent. His words were so sincere, so filled with awe, that your heart skipped a beat.

“Thank you, Chris,” you replied softly, your lips curving into a playful smile. You pointed toward the headboard. “Now, scoot over to the headboard for me.”

Chris blinked, as if snapping out of a trance, and quickly obeyed. “Yes, ma’am,” he said with a shy smile, moving back until his head was resting against the headboard, his long legs stretched out before him. His hands fidgeted in his lap, a mix of anticipation and nervous energy.

You crawled toward him, your movements slow and deliberate, and his wide-eyed gaze never left yours. As you settled back into his lap, straddling him once more, you placed your hands on his chest, feeling his heart pounding beneath your palm.

Chris still couldn’t believe this was happening. The fact that you—his best friend, the girl he had been secretly in love with for years—were about to take his virginity felt almost surreal. He looked up at you, his eyes full of adoration and vulnerability.

“You okay?” you asked softly, brushing his messy hair back from his forehead.

“Yeah… I just…” He paused, his lips twitching into a small smile. “I still can’t believe this is real.”

You leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to his lips. “It’s real, Chris. And it’s just us. Nobody else, nothing else matters right now.”

He nodded, his hands finding your hips again as you reached between your bodies, lining him up at your entrance. “Are you ready, Chris?” you asked, your voice gentle but filled with anticipation.

“Yes,” he breathed, his eyes locking with yours. “More than ready.”

With that, you sank down onto him slowly, letting him fill you inch by inch. A loud, unrestrained moan tore from Chris’s throat, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he tried to steady himself. You let out a shaky moan of your own, the feeling of him stretching you almost overwhelming.

“Chris,” you gasped, your voice trembling, “you’re so big…”

“Fuck,” Chris groaned, his head falling back against the headboard. “Don’t say that—I don’t want to cum yet.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, leaning forward to kiss him again. “You’re doing so good,” you whispered against his lips, your voice soft and reassuring. “Just breathe, okay?”

He nodded, his hands roaming up and down your sides as he tried to keep himself from completely losing control. You began to move, lifting your hips before sinking back down onto him, setting a slow and steady rhythm.

The room filled with the sounds of your shared pleasure, soft moans and gasps escaping both of you. Chris’s eyes stayed locked on yours, his gaze full of so much love and admiration that it made your heart ache.

“You feel so good, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice shaking. “I… I don’t even have words for this.”

You smiled, cupping his cheek as you leaned in to kiss him again. “Just let yourself feel it, Chris. Don’t think—just feel.”

He let out a low groan, his hands moving to grip your waist as you began to pick up the pace. “Fuck, I love you, Y/N,” he mumbled, his words barely audible but unmistakable.

For a moment, you thought it might just be his pussy drunk mind talking, but the way he looked at you told you he meant every word. Your heart swelled, and without hesitation, you whispered back, “I love you too, Chris.”

His eyes widened for a split second before they softened, a beautiful smile spreading across his face despite the tension in his body.

“I’m so close, Y/N,” he admitted, his voice desperate.

“Me too,” you gasped, your movements becoming more erratic as you felt the knot in your stomach tightening.

The moment your climax hit, you cried out his name, your body trembling as waves of pleasure washed over you. The feeling of you tightening around him was too much for Chris to handle, and with a loud moan, he followed you over the edge, spilling inside you as his entire body shuddered.

You both collapsed against each other, your foreheads touching as you tried to catch your breath. Chris’s arms wrapped around you, holding you close as if he never wanted to let go.

“Thank you so much, Y/N,” he said softly, his voice filled with emotion.

“You don’t need to thank me,” you replied, brushing your fingers through his damp hair.

“I do,” he insisted, his eyes meeting yours. “And I meant what I said. I love you—I have for a while now.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you smiled. “I love you too, Chris. I always have.”

You leaned in, kissing him deeply, the moment filled with nothing but love and tenderness.

Suddenly, a loud banging on Chris’s door shattered the quiet.

“Wrap it up, Chris!” Matt’s voice boomed from the other side. “You missed the birthday countdown—we’re officially legal!”

You and Chris both froze before bursting into laughter, the tension from the moment dissolving into pure joy.

“Happy birthday, baby,” you said between giggles, leaning in to kiss him again.

Chris grinned, his cheeks still flushed. “Best birthday ever.”

Taglist: @sophand4n4 @courta13

[sugarcubeindulgent]

coming undone | pete dinunzio x f!reader

synopsis. you confront pete about his sudden distance after you say three cursed words. what follows isn't exactly what you expected or wanted.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ contents. hurt w/ no comfort. misogyny? heavy angst. swearing. insecurities. pete has issues. violence if you squint. established relationship.

The corridor smells like various cheap colognes, cigarettes, and bubblegum toothpaste. Avoiding the mess along the carpeted corridor, you’re peeling stickers off of your face and fixing your hair after the mandatory attack of affection and greetings from Pete’s larger than life family. You smell like his mother and his closest older brother now, a mix of paprika and cheap Ax body spray that smells almost too masculine.

But you don’t mind, really you can’t seem to care as you walk towards the room with the bright and cliché “DANGER! ZOMBIES AHEAD” sign.

You’re such a bundle of anxiety and nerves that you’ve chewed the inside of your cheek to shreds. Not even during arguments do you dread seeing Pete so much, but you can’t stand it anymore.

Not bothering to knock when you hear the loud rock music on the other side of the door, not as loud as the noise of the full house, you enter a bit cautiously. Immediately the heavy smell of pot hits your nose, your eyebrows twitch and you expel a breath while your eyes fall to Pete laying on top of his made bed and staring up at the ceiling. By the clean look of his room his mom must’ve forced him to clean it recently, still there are some clothes tossed about the carpet.

He’s lying on his bag, hands folded behind his messy dark hair as he seems to almost be glaring up at the Avenged Sevenfold poster on his ceiling surrounded by various other geeky, horror, rock and metal posters and magazine cut-outs. In a gray hoodie and baggy denim pants, his dirty shoes are on the bed. The music is even louder now that you’re in his room, despite knowing how much it annoys him you walk over to the stereo on his dresser beside the television playing The Mist. When the music shuts off he sighs.

“Ma I said I–” Pete immediately shuts up and his unibrow raises when his dark eyes meet yours. He blinks and you can see the shift in him as you’ve seen it for the past four days. Instead of being excited, that stupid boyish grin spreading on his acne-scarred and acne-blotted face – instead he seems to tense up and he looks away while pushing off his bed. “Uh, babe, what’re you doin’ here?”,he asks while you nervously tighten your hands at the straps of your crossbody bag.

Looking at Pete, you’re doing your best to not show your worry or burden, smiling a bit and walking over to where he sits on the edge of his bed now. “Uhm I don’t know, I wanted to see you.” You know prolonging it will only make your stomach hurt more, it’ll only make you want to chicken out of a serious conversation. So you clear your throat and gesture a hand between the two of you before it returns to the strap of your bag as if they’re two magnets. “I wanted to – no, I–I think we should talk.”

Pete immediately sours in the face and he exhales deeply with a shake of his head. “If you say you’re pregnant I’m blowin’ my brains out.”,he says. You can tell he’s joking by the way his unibrow raises and there’s a hint of a smile on his face. That’s a good sign, it makes you smile and you laugh while walking over closer a bit tentatively.

“Believe me, if that were the case I would’ve blown mine out first.”,you joke back. Pete laughs and shakes his head. Another good sign. You relax a bit while you sit down next to him. Holding your bag on your lap, your eyes flicker to him and your expression grows a bit more serious. Before you decide to voice what’s really bothering you, you decide to give him a chance to wave away your worries before the conversation has to get too serious. “You’ve just…you’ve been weird lately. Not the good kind. I know you keep telling me nothing’s wrong but…I mean…” You suddenly can’t seem to finish your sentence, only looking at him with a frown.

That smile on his face falls, he licks his lips he’s peeled the skin off of so many times they’re scabbing again. Looking along your features, his unibrow furrows and his lips part to speak but when he looks into your eyes he looks away. “Nothing’s wrong, babe. Did’ya come here to ask that shit again?”,he laughs it off but you deflate and your hands sting in his dismissive attitude. It’s always difficult to talk seriously with Pete, but this seems like it may be the most difficult.

You can’t stand it. Truly. Ripping the bandaid off, you reach out and hold his cheek to force his eyes to you. “You’ve been weird since I–” You hesitate, it hurts. But you continue ripping it off. “Since I told you I loved you.” Immediately Pete pulls from you and stands with a sharp exhale, you watch his back with a hurt in your chest but you keep your firm expression of worry and confusion.

“Christ, I–I told you I just been a bit occupied–why d’you gotta think something’s–”

“Because you’ve never acted like this with me.”,you interrupt Pete, standing up after you toss your bag onto the floor beside your sneakers. Your boyfriend furrows his unibrow tightly and he shakes his head while looking down at his sneaker rubbing into a bong water stain on the carpet. “You’ve been blowing me off and–and any time I call or message you’re always all short worded. I mean even fucking Bill has noticed how you’ve been acting. I’m not stupid, Pete.”

It seemed to have switched in your head and throat, words spilled out. They spilled out after being kept in your chest for so long, the heat of hurt in your stomach heating up the bottle of words to push out of your mouth. And Pete seems to immediately stiffen when they hit the stale air of his bedroom illuminated in warm light by a lamp in the corner.

He shakes his head, running a hand over his dark hair. “No that–that ain’t–” When he tries to deny it, it only seems to irritate and hurt you more. Your eyebrows sew up and you walk closer to him.

“A-Are – Do you think I’m gonna be mad if you don’t feel the same?”,you ask him with eyes trying to look into his but he keeps averting his gaze while clenching his jaw, his hands fisted in the pockets of his hoodie. “I-It’s okay, Pete. I know you…I know you already struggle with being sweet verbally, with being a typical boyfriend. It’s okay if you don’t love me, but I-I took the risk. You don’t need to, I didn’t expect–”

“Well why the fuck did you say it then?”,snaps Pete in a quiet manner with a toss of his hand. You blink, flinching at his harsh tone and the angry look in his face as his dark eyes meet yours. Inhaling deeply, seemingly trying to calm himself when he registers your surprise, he continues a bit less harsh yet still too sharp for you to not be hurt. “I-I–mean we had ‘a good thing going, you know? Then what?”,he scoffs and grins in a humorless way,”We’re just smokin’ at the fuckin’ park and you tell me that shit?”

Frowning at him, you blink as a stinging sensation takes your eyes and a lump begins to form in your throat. You didn’t want this. Fuck. No. You’re not going to cry. Inhaling shakily, your eyebrows furrow as hurt and anger war in your entire body that’s since grown to feel like T.V static.

“You don’t have to be a fucking jerk about it, Pete.”,you snap at him, your arms cross firmly over your chest and your hands grip your biceps tightly. You shake your head while looking into his angry expression with your own, his eyes flicker away after a moment but you continue. “I-I’m sorry if I made things weird or – or if I made you feel any pressure but I was just expressing myself. Why are you so mad? I don’t get it–”

Once more, he interrupts you, angry in a way that confuses and hurts you. “Because I didn’t wanna hear that bullshit!”,he shouts this time. You inhale sharply, holding your breath while looking into his eyes. Pete looks along your features then he exhales hotly, nostrils flaring a bit. “The last thing I wanted was for you to tell me you fuckin’–” His jaw clenches when he shuts up immediately and you look at him while you feel tears brim your lashline. “You don’t. Alright? I know you don’t, so I can’t figure out why the fuck you said it.”

Your eyes widen and you reach out, your hand gently cups his cheek. “What? You think I said that just to fucking say it? Pete, I love–” Pete grabs your wrist tightly, pulling it off his face as if you burn him. His grip is tight, the kind of tight grip he uses when you’re both fooling around. Not with anger in his face.

“Shut the fuck up.”,he hisses, roughly shoving you back by the arm,”Get out. I don’t wanna talk about this shit anymore.”

Pete passes you and you inhale shakily, warm tears roll down your cheeks to gather beneath your chin and you quickly wipe them away. You’re so confused. Is he mad because he doesn’t believe you? You turn around and he’s holding out your bag to you, you look at his face, his dark eyes burning down into the carpet.

You take your bag and set it on the carpet before you grab his hand and step closer to him. “Pete, I promise I’m–I’m not trying to trick you. I’m not lying. I love you.”,you breathe out, holding his hand between yours. Pete looks into your face, his lips pressing thin and his dark eyes flickering between yours. For a moment, he almost seems to ease up when he follows a tear that escapes down your cheek. But then he immediately tenses up and yanks his hand away.

Silently, he walks over to his stereo. You hurt and you watch him. When the loud music comes on again, you’re unsure what to do to convince him. Regardless of if he believes you or not your arm hurts and he’s being a dickhead. You’re angry and hurt and maybe even guilty and yet he seems to only be angry. Why are you suffering more than him? You were the honest one. Stomping over to his dresser, you slam your hand on the button and the music stops.

“You–”

“Why do you believe I don’t love you?”,you look at Pete.

He looks at you incredulous. Then he slams his hand on the stereo. Loud music deafens when you slam your hand against it.

“Answer me. You don’t get to be an asshole because you can’t handle what I say.”,you breathe out,”I love you. I deserve to know why you don’t believe me.”

Pete flinches at those three words. He looks at the stereo, his jaw tenses and his expression continues to harden but soften into feelings too quick in passing for you to identify. His mouth opens, then it shuts. Then he shakes his head and looks you in the eye. “Because I don’t love you, that’s why. Is that what you wanted, huh?”,he asks, raising his unibrow at you.

Your lips part and your heart feels like it’s been punched. You blink and Pete tilts his head, his jaw clenching and his adam’s apple bobbing hard with a rough swallow. Pressing your lips, you shake your head. “You’re being mean.”,you simply breathe, like you’re a child. Pete scoffs and he shakes his head, getting in your face.

“What? You said you wouldn’t care if I didn’t, right? Well I don’t – do you care? Because you look like you’re gonna fuckin’ cry.”,he says harshly, practically sneering,”Is it not what you wanted to hear? Huh?” Of course you wouldn’t care if he didn’t feel the same because at least you love him. But he didn’t have to act this way, to make you hurt and to be so blunt about it. To hurt you and not care as he got in your face.

You want to say something, insult him and argue back. But you can’t. You feel awful and pathetic because you simply can’t say anything. Instead, you smack your hand on the stereo and you walk over to your bag. Loud music blasts in your ears and you snatch up your bag. Tugging it on your shoulder, you reach into your bag and roughly toss Pete’s portable CD player at the wall. “What the fuck!”,comes muffled under the music. You glare at Pete and you look down.

Snatching off the Bride of Frankenstein keychain from your zipper, you toss it at his face. He winces and you stomp over to the door. It slams behind you and you hear it open again when you’re walking down the corridor.

“Yeah, yeah!”,Pete shouts,”You’re just a fuckin’ liar like every other pair ‘a tits. Well I don’t need that shit, I don’t need you! Fuck you!” His voice is distant by the time you’re rushing down the steps, wiping at your cheeks furiously.

You feel like a fucking idiot.

[thatgirlsworld36]

Jude Bellingham NSFW alphabet

(minors DNI!!!)

TW: NSFW themes; read it only if you feel comfortable. English is not my first language. 

Enjoy! <3

A= Aftercare(what they're after sex)

Jude  is exceptionally attentive when it comes to aftercare. He understands that intimacy extends beyond the physical act, so he makes it a point to check in with his partner emotionally and physically. Whether it's cuddling, whispering sweet nothings, or simply enjoying a comfortable silence together, he ensures that both of you feel cherished and secure.

If he’s gone a little too rough on you he will make you a warm bath and make sure all your muscles are relaxed. Jude gets incredibly affectionately and wants you as close as possible. For him, holding you is almost like another way of saying "I love you" and he needs you to feel that just as deeply.

B= Body part(their favorite body part and also their partner's)

Jude is particularly fond of his own toned legs, which he takes great pride in thanks to all his trainings. He also love his strong big arms with which he can lift you pretty easily no matter your size. 

He appreciates his partner's body, especially their smile, as it reflects joy and happy memories. Buuut i think Jude is a man who LOVE your curves. But he also often gets distracted by your neck and collarbones. He love to rest his chin there during tender moments, creating a sense of closeness and connection that enhances your intimacy. 

C= Cum(anything to do with cum basically)

When it comes to this topic, Jude has a playful and open attitude. This man is all for the intimacy (I'm saying the same thing again and again at this point but that’s how I see him) so he prefers to cum inside you. No actually he is obsessed with cumming inside of you. The way you squeeze around him make him go insane. He enjoys the warmth and intimacy that comes with it, often teasing you about how he loves the feeling of closeness it brings.

D= Dirty secret(pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret they desire)

Jude has a secret fantasy of being intimate in a public setting, like a quiet corner of a bustling coffee shop or a secluded area in a park. The idea of being caught adds an exhilarating element of risk to his desires.

E= Experience(how experience are they?)

Though still young, Jude brings a mix of eagerness and a budding understanding of intimacy to the table. I think that he absolutely knows what he’s doing even though he is pretty young. He might not talk about it, but he’s got this quiet confidence that shows when things get intimate. He knows how to hit every right spot and when to say the right thing to push you over the edge.(But the bipolar in me says he still has a lot to learn and is willing to do it with you)

F= Favorite position(again, pretty self explanatory)

Jude enjoys missionary as his go-to position because it allows for deep eye contact and emotional connection. Annnnd that also gives him opportunity to play with your clit, tits, lips and to leave hickeys on your neck.  

However, he is also open to experimenting with different positions that spice things up, often switching things around to keep the excitement alive in your intimate moments. He also love when you are on top because as much as he likes to be in control he also like you being the dominant during it.(he's still the one whose dominating)

G= Goffy (are they more serious in the moment? do they joke during it?)

Jude has a naturally light-hearted personality, and he brings that energy into intimate moments. He often cracks jokes or makes playful comments to ease any tension, ensuring that both him and his partner are laughing and enjoying themselves. But if he is angry and just wants to release the tension then he will be serious as fuck…(praying for you girlie)

H= Hair(how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc)

Jude is well-groomed and takes pride in his appearance, which includes his hair. He keeps it stylish and tidy, reflecting his overall attention to detail. Whether it’s his head hair or body hair, he maintains a look that is both appealing and fitting for his athletic lifestyle, and he always makes sure to match his grooming style to his partner's preferences.

He also doesn't care if you are trimmed or not. Jude just want you to feel comfortable in your own body.

I= intimacy(how intimate are they during it?)

Jude values emotional closeness and intimacy, often focusing on creating a deep connection with his partner. He enjoys sharing personal thoughts and feelings, making the experience feel more meaningful. His affectionate nature means he's often found holding hands, stealing kisses, or engaging in soft whispers during more intimate moments.

J= Jack off(masturbation headcanon)

Jude appreciates his alone time, using it as an opportunity to explore his own desires and relieve stress. Sadly it happens pretty often because of all the games he has to play away from you but most of the time you are glad to give him a show on facetime.

K= Kink(one or more of their kinks)

Oh this man is F.R.E.A.K.Y.

 This man has a breeding kink. That’s it. End of the discussion. Yes he love filling you up, yes he love staying just a little longer inside so he is sure everything will stay there and yes, he does not want kids…(He said this somewhere if i’m not wrong??)(I mean yes he was younger when he did so, but a person can’t change his opinion that easy about something important as this…sorry don’t come at me <3))

 I think this man is not only very dominant on the pitch but also under the sheets. He will always “control” you during it no matter who is on top. 

Public sex! He doesn’t care if you two get caught. I’m done talking. 

Anything involving your mouth and lips. Sticking his fingers in your mouth(does that go with gagging??), spitting in your mouth, biting your lips. He just love them. 

But let's not forget he won’t do anything that would make you uncomfortable.

L= Location(favorite place to do it)

Hi! It’s me again. Somewhere outside your house. Public sex. Same thing again. In an empty dark alley? Yes. On your balcony? Yes sir. In the locker room after a game? Yes Yes YES.  

I also think about the shower? The way the water drops slight over your bodies, the warm that it came with it.(I just think Jude finds the bed slightly boring, okay?)

M= Motivation(what turns them on?)

We ALL have seen this man. And his “little” friend. So his motivation is… Everything? I want to say it’s you, I really do…but i can’t. This man is breathing and somehow he gets horny.  

He also finds it really attractive when you go around your house wearing only his shirt. (he was horny even before he saw you. Sorry(i’m not really))

N= No(something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

Jude is clear about his boundaries, particularly when it comes to humiliation. He prefers to keep things fun and consensual, ensuring that both of you are comfortable and respected throughout your experiences. He believes that intimacy should be a positive and enjoyable experience for everyone involved.

O= Oral( preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc..)

Jude is a little egoistic when it comes to this. He love to eat you out, but he prefers you giving him head which can get pretty annoying sometimes. Jude especially love receiving after he wins a match. You on your knees, with him in your mouth and the pride after winning- a dream for Jude. 

 He takes pride in knowing how to please his partner and often engages in playful teasing about it. If he is in the mood for giving  he will take his time with you and eat you until you can’t keep your legs open. 

P= Pace(are they fast and rough? slow and sensual?)

Jude is adaptable when it comes to pace. He can start slow and sensual, savoring every moment, but when the intensity rises, he’s not afraid to pick up the pace and embrace a more passionate rhythm. But it also depends on his mood. If he's angry- good luck. He will go fast, hard and deep…or slow, like reallyyyy slow. Almost like torture, making you feel everything so deep as if you are on something. 

Q= Quickie(their opinions on quckies, how often etc..)

Jude finds quickies to be thrilling and spontaneous, enjoying the adrenaline rush that comes with them. He appreciates the excitement of a rushed encounter when time is limited, viewing it as an opportunity to connect despite a busy schedule. It also means the chance of this happening outside is big. (Aham, public sex)

R= Risk(do they take risk? How far are they ready to go?)

 Jude’s definitely open to trying new things in the bedroom.He’s adventurous and loves exploring, especially if it’s something you’re into. Should I start talking about his affinity for doing it outside?(i swear at this point it sound like I’M the one that is into this)

S= Stamina(how many rounds can they go? how long do they last?)

Jude boasts impressive stamina, often surprising you with how many rounds he can go. He enjoys taking his time and ensuring that both you and him are satisfied, lasting longer than one might expect, he can literally go for forever.

T= Toys(do they own toys? do they use them?)

Jude is curious and open-minded about using toys in the bedroom. He has a collection that he enjoys incorporating into your sex life, believing that they can enhance pleasure and add a layer of excitement. But i feel that sometimes he can ge a little jealous because he think sometimes they make you feel better than him.(Seriously Jude?)

U= Unfair(how much they like to tease?)

Jude loves to tease you, often building anticipation and creating playful tension before finally giving in. Brushing his fingers lightly over your pussy through your underwear and then eventually tapping your clit with his dick which makes you whine. He enjoys the thrill of keeping you guessing and the excitement that comes from a little bit of playful unfairness.(a "little" bit)

V= Volume(how loud they are during it?)

I DON'T think Jude is vocal during it. Like he keep it to himself and only some deep groans and quiet little whispers of your name.

W= Wild card(a random headcanon)

One of Jude's wild card traits is his talent for surprising his partner with romantic gestures. Whether it's planning an impromptu getaway or leaving sweet notes, he enjoys keeping the spark alive and showing his affection in unexpected ways. (this men just love affection...and public sex)

X= X-Ray(let's see what's going on under those clothes)

He is big. Definitely above average. With a lot of visible veins on it

Y= Yearning(how high is their sex drive?)

Jude has a high sex drive(are we surprised?), often feeling a constant desire for intimacy and connection.

Z= Zzz(how quickly they fall asleep afterwards?)

After you two are done, Jude tends to fall asleep quickly, often wrapping his arms around you for a cozy cuddle. He enjoys the warmth and comfort of being close, drifting off contentedly with a smile, realising how good he made you feel.

[idontactuallyremember]

Regarding the post about Thanos’s full back tattoo: imagine not having seen him in so long since he’s been recording songs and touring but he finally comes back home to you and you get a glimpse of the tatt after he takes off his jacket when he gets in. You’re SHOCKED but you’re like “does it go all the way down your back” and he’s all smirky and cocky and shit like “yeah, why princess, you wanna see” and you’re all “if you don’t strip rn…” and take your time admiring (and maybe licking and kissing all along that tattoo to show Thanos just how much you’ve missed him) 🥵🥵 someone write this out pleaaaase 😩

Hi, Anon. This is amazing and I wanted to write this so bad, I hope you like it <3

Notes/CW: Your famous boyfriend Thanos has been busy & you haven't seen him in a few months, SFW, flirting sexually but it's mostly playful fluff, Fem!reader, the games never happened you're just in love, You match his energy so good, (me finding out about his back tattoo is making me somewhat feral)

You wake up at 2am to your phone ringing; buzzing above your head.

You rub your eyes, the light from your phone giving you an instant headache. You try to decipher who could possibly be calling you this late.

"Thanos <3 is calling..." your phone screen burns into your eyes.

You swipe right, instantly.

"Hi, Princess," Thanos says, a certain excitement in his voice, "What'ya doing?"

"Was sleeping... what are you doing, baby?" you say, groggily.

"I just got done with a show but that doesn't matter. Look outside."

"What did you do now, huh?" You tease, still a little sleepy.

"Just look outside, brat." He teases back, then, sincerely: "Sorry I woke you."

"It's okay, you think whatever is outside will make up for it?" You scramble your robe on and look outside.

"I'd like to think so." He says, locking eyes with you immediately through the curtains.

"Su-bong, you fucking didn't! Come inside." You exclaim. Even in the dark, you knew it was him. You can't help the smile on your face. After all, it's probably been a few months since you saw him last.

"Wait before I do... I have a really serious question to ask you..." He says, his tone changing. Even from across the street and through the window his demeanor seemed to change.

"What's up, baby?" You ask.

"Can you push your tits up against the glass, pleasee-"

You hang up the phone and playfully give him the middle finger.

He flips you off back and makes his way to the front door. Even though he's your boyfriend, butterflies flittered in your stomach and chest anyway.

Meeting him downstairs, you open the door just as he's walking up.

"Fuck, c'mere, Princess." He says, slamming the door behind him as he grabs you, attacking your neck in wet kisses.

"I missed you so fucking much." He mutters breathlessly.

"I missed you, too. How did you even manage to get here?" You question.

"The show I played wasn't so far from here, I needed to see my girl." He pouts.

Peeling off his jacket he adds, "You always keep it 100 degrees in here, why?"

"So I can watch you undres-" you start, but get distracted. A tattoo- a new one- has you shocked for a moment. It starts at his middle finger, just below his nail bed, and trails under the sleeve of his shirt.

"Fuck..." you say, "when'd you do this?"

"You like it, princesa?" He smirks, complying when you grab his arm.

You notice more, too- on his neck.

"Fuck, yes. I love it." You say, trailing your nails down his neckline, "does it go down your back?"

"Mmm... why?" He smirks, "You just missed seeing me shirtless, huh?"

"C'mon, take it off." You say, starting to pull it over his head already.

His shirt thrown aside, you quickly admire his abs and focus on the tattoo.

Simply: 'Thanos' written in neat Korean letters.

"Little conceited, no?" You joke but your cheeks burn seeing the perfectly intricate lines across his muscular back.

He turns to face you- surely with a smartass comeback- but sees your flustered expression and he smiles, arrogantly.

"So on a scale of 1 to 'let's-go-break-our-bed', how would you rate the tattoo? Because right now you look like you're gonna jump on me." He says, sarcastically.

"Maybe a 9? It's a nice bed." You joke.

"Shut up." He says and swiftly grabs you, "Let's go upstairs."

Once you're in the bedroom, he throws you on the bed and lays next to you on his stomach.

The moment you start kissing up his back, he melts into the comfort of Home- the comfort of you.

You trace the lines with your fingers- with your tongue- up his back, down his arms, and up his neck into his hairline. You suck gently on the sexiest parts of his back and neck, leaving hickies.

You don't know how long you admire him but, eventually, Thanos snores softly into a pillow. You crawl next to him and pull a blanket over you both and before you know it, you're fast asleep.