#*flips through my drafts* yeah yeah lets release this

[unohanadaydreams]

Hi there! For the prompt thingy can I please request you aren't a monster for kenpachi? (Even though I think he kinda is, but that's okay. Which leads me too say, I really like the predator/prey piece that you wrote for kenpachi, I have come back to it multiple times. Werewolf kenpachi can have his way with me whenever he likes)

Notes: Tfw your monster man finally has the fight of his life and makes sure it always will be.

Honestly, I think as peace begins to really permeate the Seireitei again, it begins to dawn on Kenpachi that uuuuh what he's living for is not going to carry him through life. And I always think of him as someone who pointedly doesn't learn the same lesson Unohana & Yamamoto did.

Also, so true. Werewolf! Kenpachi owns always and forever.

Features: Angst, blood, & death.

You're not a monster + Kenpachi:

"You're not a monster," you say.

Repetition of the phrase does nothing but fill air with gurgling, halting sobs.

You judge his response by the grip gone slack around his hilt, rather than any softening of his features. There's nothing soft about his face, even now.

He can't hear you. Even knowing that, you continue to sob over his forehead, willing him back. He's unconscious. You can't think beyond that yet.

The lush green of your healing kido blinks, never staying long enough to knit him together again. You don't give up. Like a firefly, you continue despite feeling no response. His chest is ragged and open and leaking spiritual pressure, an unrestrained fissure that howls. It is the only response you garner, until it drains, finally quiet, like it too is hoarse and exhausted.

Kenpachi Zaraki is covered in blood. From his opponent. From himself. You think he'd like that.

If you focused only on his smile, you could swear he was awake. You kiss him and a tooth snags your bottom lip, tearing. You keep pressing your lips to his chapped, rough mouth until they're smeared in your blood. You think he'd like that too.

He died exactly how he wished. You try to stand and leave but you collapse not far away. You crawl back.

You scream into the wound you can not heal. He's dead. He's sated. And still you look to his still-open eyes, his wicked smile, and look for solace.

Trying to gather the great bulk of him into your arms, you keep saying it now that it's no longer a lie.

"You're not a monster."

And you're right this time. He isn't anymore. He's just dead.

[sleepyjuice]

Omg imagine everyone outside watching the fireworks but you and JJ are fucking in his room and the lights from the fireworks illuminate him beautifully through the window 😩

PHEW!!! i have a few filled requests sitting in my drafts but i had to write this and get it posted today for the 4th! thank you pookie for this!<3

warnings: 18+!!! unprotected p in v sex, creampie, think that’s it!

“Ah, fuck, JJ, they’re gonna hear us.” You spoke between moans, face smushed into JJ’s pillow as he slammed his cock into you from behind, the loud sounds of skin slapping against skin (even louder than usual in this position) filling the room.

His grip on your hips was tight, his rings cool against your skin creating the perfect contrast to soothe the slight burn from his grip.

“It’s loud as shit out there, baby, the whole fuckin’ island lightin’ off fireworks right now, no one’s gonna hear us.” He assured you, not stopping his movements as he spoke, his voice shaky from his relentless speed.

He was right, it was loud as fuck outside. Fireworks had been going off for at least an hour now and they would surely continue throughout the evening, so you two weren’t missing much.

You didn’t plan on sneaking away with JJ, but apparently he did. Something along the lines of how you were “struttin’ around in that thin ass bikini all damn day.” But you had no complaints.

“I’m close, Jay, oh god.” You whined as his cock continued to hit that perfect spot inside of you, your stomach tightening by the second.

“Yeah? Let me see that pretty face.” He breathed, his hands quickly sliding up your waist, cock still deep inside of you as he flipped you around so you were on your back and you were looking into each other’s eyes.

He had only stopped his movements for maybe three seconds, quickly continuing where he left off, his strong arms planted on both sides of you head as he kept himself up, his abs contracting with every thrust. He was so fucking hot.

Through glossy eyes, you took a moment to really take in the sight of JJ above you. His blonde hair and tan skin was perfectly illuminated by a multitude of different colors that seeped in through the window from outside, fireworks in the distance as well as many that were much closer sparkling in the night sky. You were a done deal.

“Shit— I’m coming, don’t stop, don’t stop…” You whimpered, your orgasm exploding through your body, similar to the fireworks just outside the window.

Your pussy clenched hard around his cock as his thrusts grew more and more sloppy by the second, his gaze transfixed on your face, flushed cheeks and parted lips as a sequence of soft curses and moans fell from your lips as he fucked you through your orgasm.

“God, you’re so perfect, takin’ my dick so good. Fuckin’ Christ, gonna cum, baby.”

That was more than enough to bring him to his end as well, stilling inside of you as you felt his thick cock twitch, his balls now wet with your cum pressed against your ass as he bottomed out and released inside of you, long hot spurts filling you up.

He grunted loudly as he spilled inside of you, slowly thrusting his cock inside of you a few more times, fucking his cum deeper into your pussy.

You gasped at the feeling, not missing the loud squelching sounds made from his movements, a pool of both of your releases dripping out of you once he finally pulled out.

You were panting, your naked chest rising and falling rapidly as you worked to catch your breath, properly and perfectly fucked.

“Shit,” JJ breathed, dipping his head to kiss your swollen lips sweetly before leaning back and grabbing a towel to clean you up.

“God bless America, ain’t that right?”

“JJ, shut the fuck up.”

[satashiiwrites]

Snippet Sunday

tagging @quietborderline @monsterrae1 @rosieposiepuddingnpie @tkwritesdumbassassins @outtoshatter @whimsyswastry and @missanniewhimsy with no pressure. It’s sunday and i’m procrastinating packing for vacay. Y’all know the rules.

Banner by me.

Title: Family, Familia, ‘Ohana, Chapter 13: Eddie POV

Fandom: 911, H50, SWAT

Pairings: Buddie, McDanno, platonic Deacon/Hondo

Fic summary:

When one family seems lost another comes back from the past. But does Buck want to return to the past or live in the present? And does his present lead to a future he wants? Only he can answer these questions but Steve at least will be there to support him

Tags/warnings: first draft. NavySeal!Buck. Slow burn (look it took us 170k almost to get to the first kiss), first time, get together, set post tsunami/lawsuit era.

The nurse gives him a warm blanket to wrap around himself while he waits for someone to read his scan.  Eddie falls into a light doze and is woken several times by the orthopedist and then again by the nurse and neurosurgeon telling him that he’s cleared to leave sometime around five AM local time.  

Each time he wakes, he reaches for Buck only to see the rigid line of his back through the tiny slit window in the door. Buck is never looking back at him, and Eddie knows he’s got his work cut out for him to knock whatever bullshit Buck’s been telling himself about Eddie being taken is his fault out of Buck’s thick skull. 

But first, Eddie needs Buck to willingly be in the same room as him. 

Danny Williams shows up at the time that Eddie is handed his discharge papers. Buck has disappeared in search of a wheelchair despite Eddie’s protests that he can walk out of the hospital. Eddie is irritable, hasn’t slept in what feels like ages, and wants a real shower. 

“Danny Williams—I’m a lieutenant with 5-0, which I’m sure you know.”

“I have heard of you,” Eddie admits as he shakes Danny’s hand. “Any chance you can get me a shower so I don’t smell like roadkill left out in the heat for two days?”

“Sorry, no can do. We need everything on you for evidence and then pictures.”

“For trial?”

“Yes. Assuming we go that route,” Danny mutters the last part, but he hands Eddie a set of hospital scrubs and allows Eddie to change in private, leaving his clothes, including his boots, in a large paper bag. He won’t wear his boots without socks, and Danny has provided a set of flip-flops that are the right size. 

“We’ll get you some regular clothes after the CSIs have their pictures, and you can use the showers at our headquarters. You signed the release, letting us use your records for the case?”

“Yeah. Where’s Buck? Did he have to go to LA for that wheelchair I don’t need?”

Danny snorts and smothers his laughter, ice-blue eyes dancing. “You give him a run for his money, don’t you?”

“I guess?”

Danny waves off Eddie’s confusion. “He saw me coming and hightailed it somewhere. He’ll be back once he’s talked himself into something possibly macho but extremely bullshit about you getting hurt.”

“It wasn’t his fault,” Eddie repeats yet again, scowling at Danny. 

“That’s the attitude. Keep repeating it until he believes it. The kid is too much like Steve and needs to have his little brood session before you knock him straight. He was terrified for you, so let him have it now.”

“Okay…?”

“I’m sure you don’t need my lecture on the care and feeding of your Seal?”

“I know how to take care of Buck,” Eddie firmly states. He doesn’t need to be told anything to care for Buck as long as they’re talking to each other. If Buck keeps hiding from him, he might take an assist from Kono if she’s available, but he doesn’t know Danny, and McGarrett will probably be on Buck’s side in things and be unhelpful if he needs to pin his partner down. 

“Again, I’m sure you do. Just remember he’s a bit tender about you being kidnapped.”

“How could I forget,” Eddie says, pointing to the bruising on his face. It didn’t hurt since he was given some Tylenol and ice, but it was pretty spectacular looking in the glance he’d gotten in a mirror. 

Buck picks then to reappear with a wheelchair, and he pales at Eddie pointing to his bruises.  

“Buck,” Eddie calls, stopping him from disappearing again. He may play it up a bit how stiff he feels when he stands and hobbles to the wheelchair, making Buck hover. Give Eddie a few hours in the sun, a shower, and a nap, and Eddie will be good as new and ready to sit on Buck if necessary to make him listen to what Eddie has to say. 

“Let’s get the show on the road. The sooner we get your photo shoot done, the quicker we let you shower,” Danny reminds him as Buck pushes him out of the ER.  

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Connection: Logan

Read on Ao3

Warnings: uh, calculus? other than that none

Pairings: logince

Word Count: 2502

Out of all the decisions he's made for this semester, the one he's the most pleased with is the hybrid studying/tutoring arrangement he's come to with the attractive jock who sits next to him in his Intro to Calculus class.

He's one of those students who gets easily intimidated by the formulas and vocabulary necessary for the subject, but he's persistent and determined in a way that many wouldn't be and so he's quite capable of doing the work, which is a relief. Logan can count on one hand the number of students he's tutored that have shown as much interest and passion as Roman.

Of course, it doesn't hurt that he's very pretty, either.

Roman's already at their table—yes, it is their table, Logan's had an arrangement with the librarians since the first semester and Roman is the only person that is permitted to sit at it aside from him, not that Roman knows that—when he arrives, typing madly on his laptop with just the tip of his tongue poking out. He must be incredibly focused; typically, he only does that when he's forgotten Logan's there. Careful not to startle him, Logan eases into the seat across from him, getting out his own textbooks and materials to the rhythmic click-clack of Roman's typing. Every so often, he sees him glance at something on the corner of his screen—the clock, most likely—and resume typing at a faster rate.

Ah. He must be trying to finish before our time starts.

Sure enough, one minute before their scheduled slot, Roman clicks the last button with a flourish and slumps into his hands, letting out a low groan.

"That seemed productive."

Logan chuckles as Roman startles, a light pink flush touching the tips of his ears as he flails.

"Careful."

"For—how long have you been there?"

"Not long, only a few minutes."

"I didn't even notice you."

"I know." He nods to the laptop. "You seemed intent on finishing your work, it was hardly my place to disturb you. Did you finish?"

"Yeah, sent the draft along to my editors. Hopefully, that clears my weekend."

"Ah, of course. When does the next issue release?"

"Next Wednesday. They want to do a bigger piece covering the rise of generative text technology and how it's affecting the creative community at large, so I've got a larger word count to work with. Which is nice, 'cause then I can actually express some of the more complex concepts, but also…more words."

"I see."

"Sorry, I don't mean to go off-topic. Math, right." Logan chuckles, watching him put away his laptop and get out the books and his calculator. "Okay. So."

"So?"

"What the fuck," he mumbles in a tone so exasperated, Logan has to hide a smile behind his hand, "why—I think I got as far as 'area underneath a curve' before I lost it."

"You're referring to the applications of derivatives." When Roman just blinks at him, he shakes his head. "Do you remember the difference between definite integration and indefinite integration?"

"There's two?" he asks weakly.

"Yes, there are two. It'll help you understand the 'area underneath a curve' business if you understand those first."

Roman huffs, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment before he nods and starts flipping through his notebook again. "Okay. I, uh, do I remember that? Well, I definitely wrote down and underlined 'definite integration' so I must. Let's see…oh, is this the thing with c?"

"If by 'the thing with c,' you mean performing the integration between limits where c's value becomes irrelevant, then yes, this is the thing with c."

"Great." Roman claps his hands. "I definitely understood some of the words you just used."

"We all start somewhere." Logan sets aside his textbook and reaches for a blank piece of paper, writing down the integration formula with limits and turning it so Roman can see. "So. This is the formula for definite integration, do you recognize it?"

"Uh, sort of? This is just the normal integration formula, isn't it? It's just got…extra bits." He points to the square brackets and the limits. "These. Why did you put more letters in front of me, Logan, are there not enough already?"

"Those 'extra letters' are the limits."

"So…the bounds? Like—we're only integrating part of the curve?"

"Yes, precisely. The upper one is 'b,' the lower one is 'a.'"

"Will there ever be a case where 'b' is the lower one?"

"No."

"What happens if I write them the other way around?"

"Well, you'll probably get the wrong answer, unless you correct for that in your calculations."

"Okay, but like, sirens aren't gonna go off, I'm not gonna get arrested for writing them the wrong way."

Logan chuckles. "No, darling, you won't be arrested."

"Great!" A sharp nod. punctuated by a light pink on his cheeks. "So. Limits. And then on the other side, that's just the fancy way of writing the 'between these two numbers,' right?"

"Correct. And then what this comes out looking like when we actually integrate—" he rotates the paper to write down the factorized version and spins it back— "is this. So as you can see, this c will cancel out and we'll be left with g(b)-g(a)."

"Wait, why does it cancel out?"

Logan pauses, tilting his head, before he offers the pencil to Roman. Roman looks at it as though it were radioactive and he chuckles. "Can you show me why?"

"If I'm asking you why, why would I—you know what, sure, fine, I'll try."

He takes the pencil and pulls the sheet of paper towards him, frowning as he starts to write. Logan takes a moment to appreciate the way his fingers wrap around his pencil, the other hand splayed out to balance him as he leans forward. He must be incredible to watch as he plays or acts; if this is how he moves when he's uncomfortable, what would it be like to see him fully confident? Perhaps he'll have to go to the next game, it's only a few hours, he can spare that. A single lock of hair flops in front of his ear as the pencil scratches against the paper.

"Wait, what?"

Logan blinks, looking back at Roman's work. He's gotten most of the way through it, except he's ended up with +2c instead. He looks up, confused. Logan reaches for the pencil and takes it, carefully drawing a circle around the subtract sign and setting the pencil down. Roman's brow furrows harder, before realization flickers across his features and he fixes his mistake. He puts the pencil back down and leans back in his chair, one hand covering his face.

"Don't be embarrassed," Logan chides, "I've made that mistake too."

"Sure."

"Believe me, when it's something you do in front of the entire class, you tend to remember it." He pulls the piece of paper back. "Now, let's try it with an…"

He trails off when he notices Roman hasn't moved. He frowns.

"Roman?"

Roman's hand drags slowly down his nose, revealing his eyes. Oh. Oh, dear.

"Darling—"

"Sorry," Roman interrupts before Logan can finish, sitting forward and summoning an energy he clearly doesn't have, "let's try it with a what, now?"

When Logan doesn't say anything, he glances up.

"A what?" he repeats, more forcefully. Logan heeds the silent get on with it and focuses back on the paper.

"Let's try it with an example." He writes down a simple integration problem. "Do you want to walk through it together, or do you want to try it on your own first?"

"Can I try it with my notes first?"

"Of course."

"Thanks." He pulls the piece of paper towards himself and starts glancing between it and his notes. "Oh, shit, I stole your pencil. Here—"

"It's alright, I've got another."

Try as he might, however, Logan cannot focus on doing his own work, not when Roman's utterly defeated gaze still lingers in his mind. He's noticing it in the slump of his shoulders now, too, in the way his pencil almost flops out of his hands a few times as he tries to do the problem. He's taken his bottom lip between his teeth. It looks painful.

Logan glances towards Roman's backpack where he'd packed away his laptop. Roman is able to write articles that don't require much editing before they're approved to be published. He has a successful job as a writer while he's still in school. He's clever, frighteningly insightful, and clearly has the work ethic to match it. And yet, in the same breath, Roman will say that he's not smart.

As much as Logan enjoys this time with Roman, he wishes it didn't come at the expense of Roman's own self-esteem.

"What the fuck does that even say," Roman mumbles, bringing a small smile to his face, "you know what? No, we're making shit up now."

He pushes his notebook to the side and concentrates on the problem, adjusting his grip on the pencil and scribbling something down. Logan watches as he squints at what he's written a few times, erasing one number and changing it, before he reaches for his calculator. He types a few things in and writes down the answer.

"Okay, that's my best guess."

Logan takes it, looking down and picking up his own pencil. He has to brush a few stray eraser bits out of the way, but when he sees what Roman's done, he can't stop himself from smiling.

"So?"

"Well done."

"Wait, really?"

"Yes, darling. You did it. That's correct."

The relief that hits Roman is enough to make him sag against the table, slumping down with a groan. Logan chuckles, barely resisting the urge to reach out a ruffle his hair. "I'm so gonna fail this class."

"I've just told you that you've done it correctly and now you think you're failing?"

He props his chin on his folded arms and Loren has to clench his fist under the table when he pouts. "This was an easy question and it felt like I was climbing up a gravel hill. How'm I supposed to do a whole test on this?"

"By taking it one question at a time." Roman huffs and he taps his nose with the eraser of his pencil. "Chin up, darling, you'll get there."

But Roman doesn't move, staring morosely at the paper. "I have to, don't I?"

"What do you mean, 'have to?'"

"Professor Weiss isn't gonna cut me any slack if I don't get at least 80% on this next assignment, so…"

Logan frowns. "I'm sure if you talked to him—"

"I did. I do. All the time. He just doesn't like me."

"I'm sure that's not true—"

"Yeah, it is," and that horribly defeated look is back, "he thinks I shouldn't be in an intro class when I'm a junior. He thinks I'm slacking off and he said he's not gonna let me just skate by."

Anger flares in Logan's chest and he sets his pencil down carefully. "He said that to you?"

"And I mean, I get it. Intro classes are reserved mainly for freshmen and people who transfer in, but like—math is hard for me, okay? It's not like I'm not trying, it's just really hard."

"I'm also in this class," Logan points out gently.

"Yeah, but you're taking this as your fun class. You're doing high-level math and physics and super complicated stuff in all your other classes and this one's just to help you round out your skillset. That's not the same thing."

Logan opens his mouth to say something else when Roman jerks up and shakes himself hard.

"Sorry, sorry, I got carried away. Let's get back to work. What should we do next—is it different when one of the limits is a negative number or something?"

Before he can think better of it, Logan reaches out and covers Roman's hand. The poor thing startles, but doesn't pull away.

"Listen to me for a moment, okay?" Roman nods. "Don't base your intelligence off of whether or not you can do calculus. Calculus is hard, infamously so, even for people who are proficient in other forms of math. Your grades are fine. I've seen your test results, you're not anywhere near the bottom third of the students in our class. It's alright that it's a bit of a struggle for you, the important thing is that you're struggling through it. And if the professor is being obnoxious, we'll report him for it."

Roman splutters. "I'm sorry, we'll what?"

"You said it feels as if he's targeting you specifically, yes? We can report him for that. It's unfair to single you out for any reason when you're performing decently in his class."

"You just want to fight him, don't you?"

"Perhaps."

"Is this because he refused to let you use the shortcut you used in physics because it's not 'technically' how you're supposed to do it?"

"Perhaps."

Roman laughs and Logan smiles, giving his hand a squeeze. "Thanks, Logan. I, um…I really, really appreciate you being willing to sit and explain things to me over and over again. I wouldn't…I wouldn't have the grades I do if it weren't for you."

"Believe me, the pleasure's all mine."

"Really? What do you even get out of this?"

"Aside from the fact that teaching someone else helps me understand it better, I enjoy spending time with you."

He snorts. "Fair enough. And here I thought you'd ask me out to dinner like everyone else does."

"I don't think that would be a good idea."

Oh. Oh, no, too cruel—Roman wilts, his expression flickering a few times before it settles on quiet acceptance. He takes his perceived rejection with a silent nod, going to pull away.

Logan quickly tightens his grip.

"What—"

"You've said in the past," he says before Roman can finish, "that you find some of my behaviors…distracting. For the sake of helping us remain focused on our work, I've attempted to tone them down. If we went out to dinner, however…"

He reaches forward and tucks that lock of hair behind Roman's ear.

"…I wouldn't exactly have much of an incentive to do that, now would I?"

Roman's eyes widen and Logan chuckles, letting the poor thing breathe as he pulls away. Roman sits there for a few more seconds, blinking before he shakes his head.

"You're the worst," he manages weakly and Logan laughs again.

"You're blushing."

"Shut up." He shakes his head. "No. Integration. Calculus. More numbers. We can talk about dinner later."

"Is that a yes, then?"

"I was never actually asked, so—no, no," he says quickly when Logan raises an eyebrow and leans in again, "that was not a complaint. Shut up."

"So?"

"Depends on whether or not someone else asked before you did."

"Oh? You have a lot of people asking you out?"

"What, you want a list?"

"Yes, actually."

"Oh my god, you're unbelievable."

Very pretty. Very, very pretty.

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[loodaff]

⚠️I WROTE A QUICK ONE SHOT.. I'VE HAD AS A DRAFT FOR THE LONGEST... IM NOT A WRITER NOR WILL I EVEN CLAIM TO BE ONE!!! THE ENDING IS RUSHED AND IT'S CRINGE SO HATE IF YOU WANT I WON'T BE OFFENDED 😭⚠️

Quick A/N anything in bold like "this" is just another language, ik Spanish so any other language I don't rlly wanna Google translate since it isn't always accurate.

Third POV

It was a late summer night in the middle of July. One of the most hottest month of the year, and the closer you live to the equator or a tropical island the humidity or dryness will increase making it unbearably hot and maybe you'll probably want skin yourself alive, who knows.

There they were, inside a house, on a hill, on an island, called Whale Island.

Two boys who decided to visit one of the boys Aunt only for their visit to be during one of the worse times of the year. Well at least one of them thought it was the worse time.

Gon and Killua, two 15 year old boys who decided to meet up at Whale Island after separating for a couple of months and to celebrate Killua's birthday a week late.

The two boys were supposed to share a bed but Killua just shoved Gon off the bed to the floor while he stayed on the bed uncovered and sweating and fanning himself. Gon was also sweating but the floor was somewhat cold so he just had to move around the floor to keep cool.

"Ne, Killua?"

"What Gon?"

"Do you want to go do something to cool off?"

"It won't be another one of your stupid ridiculous ideas right?" Killua asked skeptically, I mean he loved Gon, don't get him wrong, but the boy was not the brightest at times.

"Huh?! What do you mean stupid ridiculous ideas?! My ideas are AMAZING for your information, tu eres el pendejo" [you're the idiot] Gon was surprised that his BEST friend, who happened to also be his boyfriend, insulted his 'amazing' ideas.

"Stop insulting me in Spanish, but yes, your ideas aren't always great Gon, you're the reason why we're going through this heat stroke! I'm about to end my life" Killua said, the last part being kind of muffled as he put his- well Gon's- pillow on his face, ready to suffocate to his death and be released from this hell they called summer.

"huh?!" Gon looked up and quickly took away the pillow from Killua who just pouted and glared at him "Stop joking around Killubabe! Anyway, it's not my fault Ging said that opening your windows instead of using the AC would be better during summer...."

"It literally is, I keep telling you don't listen to him, he's just lying to you because he finds it funny, Aunt Mito has told you- heck! Even Alluka has told you" Killua said rolling his eyes at his boyfriend, and choosing to ignore the blush on his face from being called 'Killubabe'.

"Whatever, anyway, let's go bike riding!"

"What-"

"Let's go bike riding!"

"I heard you the first time, Gon. Why would we go bike riding though?"

"Because if we bike ride the air would go through us and we'll be cooled off, mi amor" [My Love]

"Okay but wouldn't that make us tired- and more sweaty? And have you even thought this through? Is there like a bike path I'm unaware about? Or are we going to like just bike through places? What if we get to tired to bike back?"

"Details, details, we'll worry when the times comes."

"Stupid, if this goes wrong I'm killing you, taking all your money, and buying chocorobos" Killua grumbled in Japanse as he started to put his socks on.

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes you idiot"

"YAY!!"

"Shut up! Aunt Mito and Alluka are still sleeping, don't wake them up"

"Oh- I forgot hehe"

"Whatever, go put your shoes on, not your flip flops, they'll fall off and then you'll start complaining"

"Aw, what about my huraches?"

"Uh- yeah I guess? I mean they're the better option so yeah" "Aren't they like the same thing different style?" Killua thought, but he shrugged it off, the heat was to much to care.

"Ehh, cómo vamos a salir? No pensé de eso jaja" [um, how are we going to get out? I didn't think of that haha]

"I'm guessing you don't know don't know how to sneak out?"

"Yeah.."

"Lucky for you, your amazing boyfriend sneaked out a lot during his rich era"

Gon rolled his eyes, he was used to his boyfriend always mentioned how he used to he rich, kinda classist(?), but Gon also knew his boyfriend rather live in meteor city than go back to his old lifestyle.

He watched as Killua made his way to the opened window, which Killua wondered why he didn't close it before, he swiftly climbed to the outside of the window having his hands cling on to the window sill and jumped off, landing onto the grass like a cat on all fours.

"Come on! I'll catch you!" Killua called out to his boyfriend who was just poking his head out from the window looking at him.

"Eh- okay?"

Gon quickly jumped out and landed in Killua's arms.

"That was fun!"

Killua couldn't utter any words- he was mostly flustered that Gon, the love of his life, his soul mate, the boy he planned on marrying, the boy who he would kill for and will do anything to make him happy, was in his arms.

Gon noticed how flustered Killua was and giggled, he never understood why Killua got flustered easily but he found it adorable how Killuas face would get do red, he looked like a strawberry with white leaves, or a tomato- either way he found it adorable.

Gon got off Killua's arms and started dragging him to where the bikes were at. Luckily for them, Gon bought an extra bike because he 'thought' he lost his old one, (He didnt he was to lazy to look for it and used his savings).

"Huh? When did you get a 2nd bike?"

"What did you think when I suggested to bike ride? That we would only use one bike?"

"Uh- yeah? If you were anyone else I'd think they would have a 2nd bike but this is you.. no offense but I wouldn't be surprised if you had a unicycle and expected us to ride together"

"What- do you really think I'm an idiot?! I'm a smart intel- intel- uh..INTELACTUAL person!"

"Pft- it's intellectual Gon" Killua started giggling but quickly gave Gon a peck on the cheek and ran to the bikes.

"Whatever.. okay, I say we go down the forest path and then go to that one cliff"

"Uh, the one you took me to when I first visited..?"

"Yeah!"

"Alright"

Gon and Killua got on their bikes and started biking. Gon obviously in the front as Killua followed.

The boyfriends biked their way through the woods having fun and feeling refreshed despite all the bumps on the road (literally.) and the fact that Gon decided to look back and admire Killua as the moon shined on his body in the right way that it made his skin look so "milky"- I think he meant silky but it's Gon so I don't know- but he admired Killua a bit too much that he biked into a tree and fell off for not looking where he was going. Killua laughed at him, helped him up, and then scolded him for being cheesy and trying to flirt with Killua. They still went, passing the edge of the island and on their way up the cliff, and soon enough they arrived.

"We're here babe!"

Gon got off his bike waited for Killua to get off his, as soon as Killua was fully off his bike dropped to the ground as Gon picked him up and took him to the edge of the cliff.

"W-WHA?! GON! PUT ME DOWN!" Killua screamed flustered.

"Um! I don't think so!" Gon gave Killua a bright smile.

One of Killua's arms was around Gon's neck as he was carried bridal style. He kept kicking his feet and hitting Gon's chest to get him to put him down.

"Haha, stop struggling and enjoy the view amor" [love]

"Literally shut up and put me down Gon!"

"Nah, let's just stay here and enjoy the view kitkat"

"Please don't ever call me that again. It reminds me of Retz.. eugh"

Killua twitched a bit out of disgust while Gon just stood there laughing.

Gon ended up putting Killua down and they both sat down, enjoying each other's company and presence. Looking at the view, seeing the water shimmer under the moonlight, and trees moving slightly to the very little wind there was. It was enjoyable, they loved it. They were glad they decided to bike to the cliff again, happy they snuck out and had fun on the way here.

Everything was fine and dandy!

Until like not even five minutes later.

"Gooonnnn! It's so hot heereee! I think it's worse than the house" Killua started whining. It wasn't common when Killua complained, but the heat was getting to him, I mean can you blame him? The kid grew up in a mountain, not somewhere where it was normally hot.

"MMMM, ni cinco minutos te pudistes aguantar, tienes suerte que te amo" [MMMM, couldn't even last five minutes, you're lucky that I love you] Gon rolled his eyes pulling out the fan Killua had earlier sort of surprised that Killua himself didn't bring it.

"Shut up! If it weren't for you I'd be in bed with the AC on!" Killua yelled back taking the fan while also bonking Gons head with it.

"OUCH! HEY! I brought that fan for you knowing you'd be a brat about the heat, the least I could get is a thank you"

"...A what?"

"Huh?"

"Knowing I'd be a what..?"

"I'm so confused-?"

"You 'knew' I'd be a 'brat' about the heat so you brought a fan..?"

"Well- yeah? I mean everyone knows you act like a spoiled brat some-" Gon cut himself off as he glanced at Killua who was just looking towards the ground with his claws out and then proceeded to glare at Gon as if he was daring him to finish that sentence.

"...-times....whichiloveyouforverymuchandidonteventhinkyoureabrat!haHA!ifanYTHINGITHINKTHEEXACTOPPOSITEANDTHINKYOUREAPERFECTHUMANANDILOVEYOUSOMUCHFORITHAHAHAHA!" Gon quickly 'finished' what he was saying.

"Oh! That's what i thought you meant, haha! Oh, I love you too Gon" Killua retracted his claws and gave Gon a kiss.

Gon gave an ugly nervous laugh and kissed Killua back. They enjoyed that sweet moment, and ignored the fact that Gon would've died a minute ago.

When their kiss ended they smiled sweetly at each other, foreheads touching and stating at each other with such love that it probably would've made you vomit, reminds you of those highschoolers that are so cheesy but you were just mad they were happy and you're not. But besides all that, they were thankful for each other, glad they met, glad they decided to be even more than just best friends.

They spent the night there, enjoying each other and cuddling in the grass. And Gon having to fan Killua as a sorry.

7:27 AM

"Hey gu-" Alluka cut herself off when she noticed the boys weren't there "UH.. MISS MITO? GON AND KILLUA AREN'T HERE.."

Aunt Mito trudging her way up the stairs "what do you mea-" Aunt Mito cut herself off as she saw Gon's room empty, window opened, shoes missing.

"Should we go looking for them?"

"No, they're probably on their way back, let's give them an hour and then we'll look for them, okay sweetie? Me los voy a chingar cuándo regresen." [I'm going to whoop them when they get back]

"Okay!"

So Alluka and Mito went back downstairs to finish making breakfast.

With the boys

"Killua, amor, kitty, babe, corazon, baby, killubabe, Lua, be-" Gon kept poking Killua's cheek, trying to wake him up until his finger was biten.

"OW! KILLUAAA"

"You know not to poke me while I sleep"

"Okay- let's forget about that and we have to go back home"

"You think?"

"Come on let's go, Aunt Mito must be worried! And it'll rain to-"

"WHY DIDN'T YOU START WITH THAT! LET'S GO"

"pfft- okay, okay"

So they got back on their bikes and arrived back home. Only for Mito allow Alluka to trash the house and make Killua and Gon clean the whole house.

[theinsanecrayonbox]

alrighty, we are amending this, now that there's some canon to incorporate

easy things though; 1: the Olinka lore stays the same 2: we are not listening to the new timestamp 3: i guess i'll accept the older brother Vassily (i mean it does add nice layers of older men controlling Arkady...) 4: Yuri is still a major part of this

so new lore!

Arkady was born looking normal; he did not have the deathly pale skin. around age 12 (or the age he seems to be in the Infinity comic) though there was an accident, he fell through ice, got fished out, but technically drowned/had hypothermia. He was taken to Natsya's mother, but his healing factor also triggered, thus his miraculous revival helped perpetuate the idea that Natsya and her mother were witches. This though really helped start his friendship with Natsya. His powers though were not fully developed/controllable at this age though; they'd trigger at large injuries/physical trauma (like Vassily burning his hand) but for the most part his death spores were inert, he just retained the deathly white skin. (this fits into canon, but still gives me my "powers triggered upon first death")

Fast forward a few years, Vassily being old enough to work at the steel mill but Arkady not quite yet or is just starting to work there. He and Natsya are still technically outcasts, but they're outcasts together. Cue Yuri's family arriving in town; they're still destitute due to the Leningrad stuff, but maybe the male head of house was brought in to take over the steel mill now. Arkady gets a confusing crush on Yuri. He hurt on the mill's grounds; Yuri catches him healing; the two develop a secret relationship. Natsya is heartbroken by this (both because everyone sort of assumed she and Ark would get married, but also the fact that her bestfriend didn't trust her with this knowledge earlier), but she's happy he's happy...but also has seen Yuri be less than pleasant. Yuri is more physical, because Arkady can take it, and because of hints that this was done to him at home...When Yuri finds out Natsya knows about them, he flips out and wants her dead, but Arkady refuses, because she would never betray him like that.

Vassily is still the one to out them, (but Arkady didn't know thta, so thus in Weapon X-Force the "lolz I turned you in brother" makes sesne), and they run, but now Yuri goes off about how it must've been Natsya who did it, and Arkady comes close to abandoning him...but Yuri gets manipulative, saying things "we're the only family we've got now; you're my home now" so yeah. Thus they go to the city and get an apartment; their cats that Arkady has referenced are now stray cats he cared for and Yuri just let him with minimal complaints. Arkady gets drafted into the Army stuff (again, where a sample of his dna was taken and Olinka comes across it eventually and goes "i want that one for my science"), Yuri winds up working border patrol. Arkady is sent away to the Antarctic, gets outted, and gets executed, but again his death spores release and his healing factor kicks into overdrive to revive him and kills a portion/the base he's stationed at.

Now though, when he leaves the base and heads back home to Yuri, he finds a strange man at their place. Fearing that this guy hurt or was planning to hurt his lover, Arkady ends up killing him with this death spores (he still doesn't have a full grasp on controlling them). After that though, he discovers that Yuri was actually in their apartment...in the bedroom...and he's dead now, due to the spores. Arkady is beside himself, because he didn't know he was there and he never wanted to hurt him (and is so distracted by grief he easily misses the clear signs that the strange man was living there, with Yuri, that Yuri had been cheating on him while he was in the Army). I could see Olinka and her crew walking in on that scene (this was his listed home address after all, so why not start the manhunt there) and she starts monologuing about great science or whatever, so an emotionally wrecked and angry Arkady manages to fight his way out of there (possibly by jumping through a window) and evades capture, fleeing across Europe right up until Banshee catches him for Interpol, who then returns him to Russia, to Olinka's hands.

This still doesn't erase the potential of the crimes his dossier says he was charged with, but it still very much leaves it open that those charges could have been trumped up by the KGB so Interpol would willingly hand him back to them and not question anything (it is also open that mayhap the children going missing in the Antarctic was from one of his basemates, so the base just pinned it on Arkady as scapegoat).

This does though make Yuri much darker and controlling and manipulative than I had originally thought...but I am totally fine with that. He might even be a slight bit older than Arkady, adding to the controlling dynamic. Arkady might not have been as violent as we were led to believe as a child, but Yuri still encouraged what was there and reveled in it (Vassily was physically abusive, Yuri was emotionally). And when Arkady wasn't immediately useful to him, he found someone else...

But since his home town had run him out, and even though he never thought Natsya woudl betray him he didn't know of anyone else that would've outted him, and loosing the only person who claimed to "love" him, he never thought of returning home.

[notsocheezy]

Brain Curd #94

Brain Curds are lightly edited flash fiction - practically first drafts - posted daily and sometimes written with the express intention of being terrible… but, you know, in an endearing way. Please enjoy.

Read the rest of Passable. here on Tumblr! This is the last part of episode one, so you'll want to be caught up to understand what's going on.

It was all very scientific, very controlled. Noah, the busboy, was blindfolded and tied to a wood chair naked from the waist down, right in the middle of the living room. Brayden was similarly nude, though he wore a very long shirt. That way, you - the studio audience - couldn’t see anything.

“Are we ready?” Brayden asked Alice.

“Yes,” she replied, “Everything is in position. I have the coin to flip, my notebook full of survey questions, and a pen to fill them in.”

Brayden gave her a thumbs-up. “Ready to part the red sea, Noah?”

“Y-yes. Yes!” The busboy replied, clearly eager to begin the research.

“Hold on,” Alice whispered. “You’re on your period?”

“Yeah,” Brayden replied. “Why do you think I’m so horny?”

Alice nodded. “Okay, I’ll need to add that to the procedure notes.”

She flipped a coin and showed it to Brayden. Tails. He gave a salute and proceeded to approach the test subject. Alice clicked her pen and watched intently.

~

Lily and Hazel walked through the hallway of the apartment building. Both laughed at whatever it was that one of them had said, but Lily had a lump in her throat. She was moments away from her first time with a cis woman.

“Anyway,” she said, trying to catch her breath. “I’m not sure if my roommates are here or not, but I’m sure we can get the bedroom to ourselves.” She pulled out the key and shakily inserted it into the lock, missing several times. Hazel gently helped her push it in.

“Hey,” she purred. “No need to be nervous. I won’t bite… unless you want me to.”

Lily released an awkward high-pitched squeal in response, nodded incoherently, and unlocked the door. It opened to reveal a disarming display: Brayden riding the loudly moaning busboy as Alice took notes on the whole thing.

“And how would you describe the sensation you’re feeling right now?” She asked, scribbling something on the page.

“Uh… uhaaahhhh…” The busboy replied.

“Come on, use your words!”

“What is going on here?” Hazel asked, seemingly more aroused than disgusted.

“Oh, uh… just ignore them.” Lily took Hazel’s hand and tried to lead her to the bedroom. “They’re experimenting.”

“Ha. I know all about that,” she said, refusing to take her eyes off the performance.

Lily let go of Hazel’s hand. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, you know… college dorms, sharing a room with other girls… we got curious. Who didn’t? Don’t worry though, nowadays I am one-hundred percent straight.”

“You’re… what?”

“I’m straight. Only into men now. It was a phase, that’s all. What’s the big deal?”

Lily rubbed her forehead. “If you’re only into men, why did you agree to go on a date with me?”

“Wait…” Hazel finally took her eyes away from the center of the living room and looked Lily up and down. “Are you… not a femboy?”

Lily wasn’t sure how to react to that question, so showed every emotion on her face all at once in a statue-like paralyzed expression.

The door opened and in walked Sarah and Peter. Sarah was mortified by what she saw, and Peter was too.

“What…” Peter stuttered. “What kind of sick pervert are you?!?”

The busboy moaned.

Sarah’s eyes went wide. “No, no, no, you don’t understand! I have nothing to do with this!”

“Ha!” Alice laughed performatively. “This was practically your idea, Sarah.”

“Thanks, Alice, thanks. Thanks a lot!”

“I don’t think I should be here…” Peter said, doing a sign of the cross as he backed away, panicking.

“I don’t either!” Hazel said, moving towards the door. She hid behind Peter, bracing herself against his body. “That horrible mannish woman tricked me into coming here!”

“Hey!” Lily yelled, incensed.

“Will you accompany me home?” Hazel asked Peter, appealing to his masculinity. “I don’t feel safe.”

“Sure,” he said, glaring at Sarah. The two walked away.

“That’s a cute nose ring,” Hazel said, as Sarah slammed the door behind her.

Sarah frowned at Lily. “Your reverse-trap stole my boyfriend.”

“Come on…” Lily said, thousand-yard-staring toward the sex act in the middle of the room. “He wasn’t really your boyfriend.”

“Yeah,” Alice added. “You didn’t even have sex.”

“We kissed!” Sarah sighed and shook her head. “He was Catholic anyway.”

Lily, Sarah, and Alice silently watched as Brayden continued to ride the busboy. Lily bit her lip and looked at the others.

“Do we have any more of that coffee?”

[andysbubba]

call me when you hear this song

↳ you performed a song you wrote for chris on live tv and chris act on the lyrics.

an | this song is call me when you hear this song by new west!! this has been stuck in my drafts for about a whole year and I HATE IT. i don't like it and I wish it isn't so draggy and lengthy and so descriptive but I just wanted to get rid of it and yay #secondchanceromance <333

---

"So you just released a new song right?" Jimmy starts off, glancing down to his card before he looks up at you while you nod in response to his question. "When you said 'call me when you hear this song', is there actually a little someone you were expecting a call from or is it words you just spewed out for the song?"

You chuckle in reply, shifting your body to turn to the kind host and took a quick second to think about your answer. "God– must I answer the question?" You joked while subtly fidgeting with your hands. You knew the question was gonna be asked when you took up the interview but it doesn't make it any less tough to answer. "But yeah! I wrote it with someone in mind and the whole song is about him."

Jimmy lets out a gasp, covering his mouth with his palm and laughs. "Alright, alright. Now I'm really curious— did you get any calls from anyone who thought you were singing about them or did the person you wrote this song for actually called you?"

You laughed at the question, thinking of the calls you did get about the song but none from the person that actually matters. "I did, actually. But not from the guy I was expecting a call from." You chuckled lightly, shrugging the question off. "But truth be told, I don't think he even heard the song yet."

"There's no way he hasn't heard your song yet, right?" He trails off and gestures at him and the audience. "Especially not when it's hitting all the charts and it's even trending on TikTok. I hear it all the time I get in the car too."

"Well," You drag slowly, with a shrug. "I dunno how to put this nicely, but he kinda sucks at technology and keeping up with trends. I mean, the only trend I remember him doing was the Ice Bucket Challenge which was probably all the way back in 2014. "

"I think we're gonna need a whole list of everyone who did the challenge just to figure out who it is, huh? Or maybe do another round of Show Me Your Phone." He suggests, keeping his face as innocent as possible with his usual cheery grin.

"Oh god." You wagged a finger at him, instantly recalling the last time when you came on the show for Show Me Your Phone and you had to show the latest video in your gallery. "Never again. I had to fight for my life on Twitter that day."

It had been a video of you on a couch, cuddled into someone's side and your head was resting on his chest. You had been lucky enough that the video didn't show his face and the only sound in the background were the lines from the movie Aladdin playing on the TV and a dog's barking.

"I really wanna know if this song guy and your video guy are the same person." He pokes teasingly.

You know Jimmy well enough that he won't pressure you into answering if you don't want to. If anything, he'll even help you cover things up. He's easily one of the best hosts out there. He's great at his job and somehow, he does it without prodding so much into people's private lives.

"They are." You sighed, rolling your eyes at the man. "Y'know, I was kinda scared to come here today just in case we had a repeat of that whole thing and I have to spend the rest of tonight fighting for my life on Twitter. Again."

The audience laughed and so did Jimmy at your explanation. He pushed his chair back and stood up. "Well, lucky for you, the only thing I'm making you do today is sing your new single." He clapped his hands together, a wide smile on his face as he addresses the audience. "We'll be right back after the break with more of Y/n Y/l/n on The Tonight Show!"

---

Chris had been mindlessly flipping through all the channels until Jimmy's face came on the screen and he decided on that since he wasn't in the mood for a movie anyways. He almost choked on his coffee because he was not expecting to see your face on his TV screen as the camera shifts to show you walking out from the backstage as Jimmy presents you. Hell, even Dodger started barking at the sound of your voice.

"Jimmy!" Your voice rang through the room as you stepped closer to him and greet him with a hug and beautiful, wide grin you always have.

As you take a seat on the couch, you waved at the audience and the cameras and Chris just swoons.

"God I've missed this couch so much. I swear to god it is just as comfy as Sebastian Stan's couch."

Chris laughs at that revelation. You and Mackie just had a thing for Seb's couch. But Seb would never reveal where he got the couch from- no matter how much you and Mackie bullied him into spilling.

Good old days.

Chris sat up straighter on the couch, watching intently as Jimmy asked you questions your new song. It's not that he doesn't keep up with your music or don't support your career. He just tries to avoid you as much as possible, knowing that he'd get the urge to give you a call and rush back into your arms at the first bit of attention you give him.

The questions shifts to something about Show Me Your Phone, and you laughed in response while swearing off the game for good.

Knowing Jimmy and his games, the game you were talking about was probably played during one of your old interviews on the show.

He hastily grabbed his phone while the screen switches to a commercial break. He's curious about the game. He types in 'Y/n Y/l/n show me your phone' on Youtube and the first thing that came up was 'Show Me Your Phone w/ Y/n Y/l/n'. The video had been from probably two years ago. And judging by the date, you both were still together then.

There was a screen with a bunch of apps. And he watches as you start the game off and had to show your last received text which was a message from your mom asking when you'd bring home a man to meet her.

That itself left Jimmy and the audience cracking up in laughter, and Chris laughed too.

In your next turn, you had to show the latest video in your gallery. He was expecting a short vlog of yourself backstage or just a random timelapse of the sunset since those are the first things that came to his mind. Chris almost freezes in his seat when the video starts playing. He recognises it all too well. The background is so obviously the very couch he's sitting on right now in his living room.

And he's not a narcissist but Chris can definitely recognise his own chest. And that bark is clearly Dodger's. What kind of dog dad would he be if he can't even recognise his dog's bark?

Scott had been over that night, and he recorded it– mentioning how he's tired of lovesick couples and using the video against you and Chris when he told the two of you to stop being so mushy. He airdropped the video to both your phones that night too.

Chris was shocked to say the least. How did it take him so long to find out about this? And he recalls the jab you aimed at him earlier in the live interview.

"I dunno how to put this nicely, but he kinda sucks at technology and keeping up with trends. I mean, the only trend I remember him doing was the Ice Bucket Challenge which was probably all the way back in 2014. "

Chris chuckles to himself and shakes his head. You were definitely not wrong about that.

He keeps watching the show as Jimmy teased you about the video and dug to find out whoever's chest it was. You sheepishly hid your face behind your palms as the blush rose up to your cheeks and you mumbled out vague replies to all his questions.

"I was so not prepared for this when I came here." You pointed sharply at Jimmy with and chuckled. "My publicist is gonna kill me after this."

Chris eyes the TV screen, realising that the show's back on and it's time for you to sing your new single. He sets his phone aside and made a note in his mind to get back to the video later and keep up with all your other interviews with Jimmy.

Call me when you hear this song I think you know who you are Can we start where we left off? Lord knows I'm never moving on

Every time you hear this tune Just know I still think of you Can we get together soon So you can say I love you too?

He realised you could've fessed up right then when the video of you on his chest was aired out to the public. It would've been so easy for you to just say his name and you could've avoid the fans and media pestering and digging into who you were with. It would've help build your career too. Again, Chris isn't a narcissist— but he knows he has all his fans and the media follows him around. And he knows you were never using him and it will never be your intention. But the media is cruel and the two of you were well aware of that.

They can easily present you as using Chris for attention and publicity and they'll start digging into you and Chris' lives, and the two of you enjoy as much privacy as you can get— even if it isn't part of the life you two signed up for.

So you kept it as private as possible for about a year until you both mutually decided on a break. For you to focus on your music, and for Chris to get back to filming. He'd be flying around for filming and press and you'd be in London for a few months to collaborate with a couple of different writers and artists there.

You didn't want to stress each other out with all the distance and separation so you took a break.

Please not again We've been through this before my friend Don't say that this is the last time No I ain't ready for goodbye

I tried my best And gave you everything I had Seems what I have is not enough You want another kind of love

"I'm always gonna wait for you, y'know."

Both of you were smiling through the pain– trying to find the good in goodbye. The tears were inevitable. Chris had tear streaks on his cheek and your heart breaks at how vulnerable he looks.

You wrapped you arms around his torso, cheek pressed against his chest as you let your own tears out.

"I'll always love you, Chris."

His own arms tighten around you. "I'll always love you too, sweetheart."

Call me when you hear this song I think you know who you are Can we start where we left off? Lord knows I'm never moving on

Every time you hear this tune Just know I still think of you Can we get together soon So you can say I love you too?

He hadn't expected to wait so long. But somehow, a week turned into months, and next thing he realised— it's been a whole year since he last saw you. He would've reached out, and Chris doesn't know why he held himself back from texting you all these while.

A part of him thought that maybe you truly moved on, what the two of you had was truly over, and he's the only one stuck in the past.

You're being pulled in another direction I want you to know that I understand Cause things get complicated when you say you still love me But how can I know how you feel I'm only human

I won't stand in your way You deserve to know yourself I know we'll meet again one day But till' then I just wanna say (I just wanna say)

Chris brushes his hand through Dodger's fur as the mutt sprawls himself out on Chris' lap. "What do you think, bud? Should I give her a call?"

Dodger nuzzles into his thigh, letting out a low purr in reply. Chris sighs at him. "You miss her too, don't you?"

Dodger looks up at him, slowly blinking as if he's actually agreeing with Chris.

Call me when you hear this song I think you know who you are Can we start where we left off? Lord knows I'm never moving on

Every time you hear this tune Just know I still think of you Can we get together soon So you can say I love you too?

---

You're grinning widely as you sing the last line, waving at the audience as Jimmy comes over and pulls you into a hug.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Y/n Y/l/n!" He looks at the camera, arm slung over your shoulder as he holds up a square frame of your album cover. "Call Me When You Hear This Song is out now on all streaming platforms!"

It wasn't long till you went backstage, the show ending with your performance. Jimmy left with you as both of you made small talk about the show and your projects.

"Do I even know who this guy is?"

"You do actually." You laughed at the question, grinning as you pat him on the back. "He's been on the show a couple of times."

"Oh god, you mean the answer's right under my nose?"

You scoff at his response. "If it helps, he's a giant goofball." You nudge him with shoulder, smirking as you walk ahead of him. "Good job tonight, Jimmy!"

"Oh yeah, I see how it is! Thought we were friends!" He shouts back at you, playfully rolling his eyes and cracking up as you chuckle and head back to your dressing room.

You met up with your manager back in your dressing room and she arched a brow at you as soon as you came in.

"$20 says he'll call soon." Olive notes as she passes your phone over.

You simply shrug at her, your manager and your closest friend. "You're on girly." You laugh mischievously as you go through your phone for anything that you missed while going live on the show.

It had been tough to convince management and your publicist about keeping your then relationship under wraps– even from them. The only people who knew about it was well— you, Chris, Olive, and Scott. Scott wasn't even supposed to find out. He came to visit while you were over at Chris' and you didn't have enough time to make an escape. And Olive well— she's your bestfriend. What choice do you have?

You honestly don't know if Chris even listened to your music. So you weren't exactly expecting a phone call even if you technically did say something about calling you if he heard the song. The song has been out for two weeks now but you still didn't hear from him. Besides, Chris is more of a documentary and news guy rather than a chat shows and reality tv guy.

A little notification pops up on the top of your screen while you were scrolling through your emails.

Chris: Should I call now?

You gasped, accidentally letting go of your phone and it drops on the floor with a loud clad. You looked up at Olive, who eyed you weirdly.

"He texted."

She grins at you. "Pay up, girlie."

You chuckle, rolling your eyes at your friend before picking your phone up and you quickly typed out a reply. "He's asking if he should call."

"I'll give you some time. " Olive nods, standing up from her seat as she goes out to leave the room. "We're leaving in thirty."

His name pops up on the screen soon after she left and you inhaled deeply before you picked it up.

"Hey." He breathes, chuckling softly as soon as you picked up.

"Chris."

"You did great, Y/n. Dodger dozed off listening to you sing." He starts, his voice low and you realised that he watched the show- oh my god.

"You heard the song?"

"Watched the Show Me Your Phone video too."

"Oh my god." You laughed, taking a seat on the couch while your heart beats just a little bit faster.

"Y'know, I'm gonna be fuckin' embarrassed if it turns out that you weren't basically telling me to call you." His accent was thick as he speaks and it made you a little flustered.

"Nope." You popped the word. "It's definitely you."

You hear him breathe a sigh of relief as he talks to Dodger over the phone. "You were right, buddy."

You let out a breathy laugh at his words. "Did he convince you to call?"

"It's just those damn puppy dog eyes. I think he really misses you." Chris says before he clears his throat and you could almost feel his nerves through the phone. "Wanna come over?"

A giant grin forms on your lips. "Be there in an hour?"

Chris chuckles, "Okay. See ya soon, gorgeous."

---

You changed into something more comfortable and you got Olive to drop you off somewhere in Chris' neighbourhood— making some lame excuse about how you had to visit a friend. She obviously didn't believe you but she let you go anyways, telling you to stay safe, to not get caught by any paps, and sends you off with a "Don't do anything crazy, Y/n."

You ended up on Chris doorstep 10 minutes later, knocking on his door with your poor attempt of a disguise with just a hoodie, sweats and a cap. He was quick to open the door, instant pulling you into a hug as he kicks the door shut.

"Hi." He starts off, grinning almost shyly when he pulls away.

"Hey," You giggle in reply, letting your arms stay around his torso.

"I'll make you some hot cocoa then we can talk?" He suggests. "Dodger's on the sofa."

You nod, following him as he walks inside the house. You're familiar with it, but it's been so, so long that it just felt a little awkward to be back in Chris' home again.

Chris goes into the kitchen while you head to the sofa where Dodger's just sprawled out on.

"Bubba!"

The pup perks up at your voice and he barks immediately as you rush over to him and plop yourself beside him before he climbs into your lap. Dodger excitedly licks your face and he pawed at your hoodie.

You laugh at the mutt, letting your hand rub over his belly. "I missed you too, baby."

Dodger nuzzles into your touch when your fingers brushes through his fur as he slowly calms down. You're glad he didn't tackle you to the ground like when he finally met Chris after two whole weeks. He's cute but he's a huge dog. And heavy.

"Hey! Stop hogging her, you goof." Chris chides playfully when he comes into the living room with two mugs in his hand. Your hand stays on Dodger's fur while the other reaches grabbed a mug from Chris. The moment he sits beside you, Dodger moved so that he's half-sprawled on your lap and half on Chris.

"So," He drags awkwardly, a free hand going to the back of his neck and scratches at his nape. "Nice song."

Both of you stared at each other for a quick second before you both burst out in laughter.

"Okay, okay," He shakes his head with a chuckle, "But I'm serious, it's a really good song."

You cleared you throat, "Uhm– I didn't think that it'd reach you, honestly." You tried your best to look at him but for some reason, your gaze kept shifting down to the mug in your hands.

His voice got lower– almost a whisper but it was still loud enough for you to hear. "Did you mean it?"

You glanced up at him, and his eyes never left yours. You never stopped thinking of him— that's how you got the inspiration to write the song in the first place.

"Every word."

"Good." Chris breathes.

His lips was on yours in a split second, his free hand cupping your jaw and he shifts so he's closer to you. You tensed up, hands staying in the same spot with your fingers wrapped around the mug in your lap.

You pulled out of your daze, letting the mug rest in between your thigh so both your hands are free. You reach for Chris' face, twisting your body just a little and pull him closer, your lips moving slowly against his soft ones.

You feel Dodger hopping off your lap and you almost feel bad for the pup but Chris pulled away, so you kinda forgot about the dog. He had a cheeky smile on his lips while he stares at you. His fingers gently rubbing your cheek and he leans in to rest his forehead against yours.

"I love you too."

You couldn't help but chuckle before you realised that his hand holding the mug is hovering over your lap. "God, please don't spill that hot cocoa on me."

Chris glances down, laughing lightly before he backs away and took your mug too– placing both on the coffee table. He sits back beside you, hands reaching out and swiftly pulling you to sit on him.

"I missed you." He says softly, his hand staying on your waist and the other gently rubs your back.

Your arms rest on his shoulders, nose pressed against his and your lips curl into a grin.

"I know."

"So what? We're dating again?"

You hum, quickly pressing a kiss on the tip of his nose.

"Wanna tell everyone that I called you when I heard that song?"

You looked at him then, palms cradling his face and thumbs brushing against the soft skin underneath his eyes. "You sure, Chris? The media's gonna flip."

Chris nods, pulling you closer to him as he sits up. "We didn't tell anyone last time because of your career. There's nothin' to be scared of now, baby. Maybe the privacy thing, but it's nothing we can't deal with, right?"

"Olive's gonna kill me."

"And Megan will kill me. Should we request to be buried next to each other?"

"You only live once, right?"

Chris grins. "How do you wanna do this?"

"I'll post that video of us that Scott took on my stories with my song in the background."

He nods in agreement and pulls his phone out. "I know what I wanna post."

"You gonna show me?"

He hums as he taps on the screen and hides it from your view. "You'll see, sweetheart."

He glances back up at you after a quick minute, waiting for you to stop tapping on your phone. "You ready?"

You tap the button and wait for the story to load, and you quickly switch to Chris' account and refresh his page just to see his story.

When the purple ring pops up around his profile picture, you click on it. A picture of you on his couch with Dodger pops up with your song playing in the background. You realised its a picture he snapped just a few minutes ago while you were waiting for him to make the hot cocoa. Your face wasn't shown in the picture but it's easy to identify the person as you— if your voice singing in the background isn't enough.

"Sneaky." You teased as you turned your phone off and set it aside.

"No backing out now. You're with me for good, baby."

You cradle his jaw and lean down, bringing your lips close to his. "There's no other place I'd rather be."

-----

an | put me in jail but idc if this flops i really don't like it and it makes me sad bcs it could've gone so much better but im so 🫠🫠🫠

[msg4andre]

momma’s boy ❤︎︎ - S.H

Contains: subby!steve, mostly dom!fem!reader, lactation kink, mommy kink, Steve being eager to please <3

A/N: bye the ending kinda sucked but I wanted to get this out of my drafts LMAOAOA, anywayz have this yall. Also this was not pre read so sorry for spelling/grammar lol <3

Steve Harrington came home from a long day at work feeling exhausted. Shitty customers, constant loud noises and let’s not forget the snobby kids who would constantly knock things over and leave it to him to clean up. It’s not like Steve loved his job but today was definitely one of the harder days for him. Even the trip upstairs seemed more tiring.

On the bright side, steve had you to comfort him! Steve lightly pushed the bedroom door open, his heart swelling at the beautiful woman who sat in his bed. The room was dark except for an old lamp on the nightstand, the dim yellow light reflected off your satin nightgown as you flipped to the next page of your book. Your back comfortably resting against some pillows leaning against the backboard of the bed. “Hey…” Steve whispered.

You looked up from your book as your boyfriend crawled into bed next to you, moving slowly until he was right next to you. Steve was on his side balancing the rest of his body on his elbow to keep himself up. It seemed like he was too tired to keep himself upright on the mattress without collapsing, you could tell. Today must’ve been a rough day at work for your poor Stevie. One of his coworkers didn’t show up for their morning shift so Steve had to fill in for them. Much to his dismay, he had to get up from the comfort of your arms and start his day a couple hours early. Your poor baby looked exhausted, from the dark circles underneath his eyes to the way his voice was soft and seemingly incapable of speaking any louder.

“Hi baby, bad day at work?” You asked. “Yeah.” Steve nodded. “Freaking Mario didn’t even bother showing up today and they made me fill in for him.” He sighed, nuzzling his cheek against your shoulder. Which was his way of telling you he wanted to be pampered, taken care of.

You gave your sweet boy a knowing smile, closing your book and setting it on the nightstand beside you. “C’mere, baby.” You cooed, wrapping your arms arroud Steve and holstering him up so his head would press against your chest. Steve toyed with the straps of your nightgown, his brown puppy eyes shooting you a look. Once he had your approval, he let the top of your nightgown fall, watching the glistening satin gown pool around your elbows and revealing your leaking tits.

Steve’s eyes lit up as he latched onto your nipple, tongue swirling around your bud as he suckled on your tits “Mommy…” He murmured against your sensitive nipple, biting down as his hand snaked into your nightgown. You moaned when Steve began massaging your clothed clit through your panties, a wet patch forming causing the cloth to stick to your pretty pussy. You groaned at the sensation of your sweet milk gushing out of your tits.

“M-my good boy. Such a good boy always pleasing mommy.” You cupped Steve’s cheek, your heart fluttered watching your baby suck on your milk-filled breasts.

Steve whimpered at the praise. Pleasing his mommy always made Steve’s pretty cock weep, he couldn’t help but grind his hips against the mattress as your nectar continued to flow into his mouth. The wetness seeping through your panties and coating his fingers made him impossibly hard. Steve released your nipple and moved onto your other tit, continuing to toy with your sloppy pussy by stroking your slit and guiding his fingers up to your clit. “S-Steve!” Steve looked up at you, milk dribbling down his chin and dripping on you. You sucked in a breath. Steve tweaked and toyed with your sensitive buds, and the stimulation left you absolutely breathless.

Steve rutted his hips against the mattress, drunk on your sweet sounds, slipping two finger inside your soaked cunt. “O-oh…let me take care of you, baby…” You mewled, bucking your hips against his fingers as they curled and scissored inside your wet hole . Steve shook his head no, your boob still in his mouth as he worked on your pussy.

You gazed at him in adoration and brushed the hair away from his face as he nursed, his brown eyes looking up at you and meeting yours as your wetness lewdly squelched. With a groan, Steve released your sensitive nipple and moved his head downward, the skirt of your nightgown covering his head as he pulled down your soaked panties. “I could do this all day…” He huffed against your clit, his warm breath making you shiver. “G-go on baby, you know mommy doesn’t like it when you tease.”

[rebeccccccaaa]

O̶l̶d̶ M̶a̶n̶ M̶o̶v̶e̶s̶

__________________________ Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Steve shows you a thing or two about being an old man. 

Warnings: *AGE GAP*, smut 18+ minors dni, very dark/inappropriate joke (only mentioned once but beware)

Author’s Notes: I know this isn’t the most original but hEr yA gO lol (ps this a long one but boy is it a good read #prettyproud ;) lmao) __________________________

“Hey Nat, do you know anything about World War II?” you peeked your head in her room.

“Nope, ask Steve.”

“Hey Tony, do you know anything about World War II?” you walked into the lab.

“Nope, ask Steve.”

“Hey Sam, where’s Bucky?” you walked in the kitchen.

“Mission.”

“Well, do you know anything about  World War II?”

“Nope, ask Steve,” you grunted and rolled your eyes.

“Hey Wanda, do you know anything about World War II?”

“Nope, have you asked Steve?” 

“Ugh! Everyone keeps saying that,” you flopped down on her bed.  

“And why aren't you asking him?” 

You looked at her raising an eyebrow. She was the only, well you think Nat knows but Wanda is the only person you told about your little crush on the super soldier. Upon seeing your face, Wanda chuckled humorously. One time she caught you during a meeting thinking about Steve; every part of Steve. To say you were embarrassed would be an understatement. 

“What about Bucky?”

“He’s on a mission. Hey, what are you watching?”

“Malcolm in the Middle.”

“Nice.”

You laughed at the show for a bit before grunting remembering that you had to finish the history report for your college professor who’s as old as sliced bread. Before you walked out Vision phased through the door. 

“Ooh! Vis, tell me everything about World War II!”

“No, Vis! Don’t tell her a single thing! You have to ask Steve,” she scolded. 

“No!”

“Yes!”

“Wanda,” you whined.

“I’m pretty sure he’s in his room,” she smirked.

“Please don’t make me do it,” you begged hyperbolically. 

“Then fail your report,” she smirked evilly.

“Dammit, Wanda,” you left her room hearing her snicker. 

You stomped to your room and collapsed on your bed. You sat at your computer for twenty minutes until a knock disturbed your dreadful staring. 

“Steve!” you shouted opening the door.

“Hey, Sam told me you needed help with a history report?”

“Sam told you?”

“Yeah; and Tony, and Nat, and Wanda,” Steve phoned chimed suddenly.

“Oh, uh, Buck just texted me saying Sam told him that you need help with uh, a history report,” he chuckled.

“Yeah, World War II,” you gritted.

“Well,” he stood awkwardly at your door still.

“Come in,” you moved over to let him in.

Steve walked in and sat on the edge of your bed. You scurried over and threw yourself on the bed gathering all your papers and books and your laptop. You sat criss crossed on the bed before looking up at him ready for learning, I guess.

“Ok so what exactly do you need to know?” Steve smiled.

“Oh well, uh, maybe we start with life before soldiers got drafted?” you suggested.

Steve smiled remembering tons of stories and memories of him and Bucky being teenagers in New York. You stopped caring about your report altogether and just kicked back to listen to all about Steve. The way he lit up whenever remembered something he forgot to tell you made your heart burst. 

At one point he started laughing so hard, as were you, when he slapped his hand directly on your thigh and squeezed hard from pure humor. Needless to say, you instantly stopped laughing and zeroed in on his large hand and the way it gripped your thigh. 

“Awe man, that such was a good day,” he breathed out once he cooled down.

“Yeah, it’s kinda weird,” you said, coming back to reality.

“Why’s that weird?”

“I don’t know? You’re the captain, you don’t have fun. You’re an old man,” you giggled.

“Old man? Kid, you’re hurting me,” he clutched his chest dramatically.

“Hey, I already told you to stop calling me kid. I’m twenty years old,” you crossed your arms. 

“Hey come on, I’m just joshing ya,” he smirked.

“Who the fuck says ‘joshing ya’?” you laughed.

“What, the kids don’t say that nowadays?” he laughed.

“No!” you were cracking up rolling on the bed.

“You’re supposed to be doing your history report,” he defended.

“You’re such an old man, oh god.”

“And you’re such a child,” he pinned you down on the bed.

“Ooh, someone busting out the old man moves. Get off grandpa,” you smirked.

“Make me, kid,” he emphasized ‘kid’.

You two glared at each amusingly, both trying you very best to not smile. Your shirt had ridden up your stomach and Steve could somewhat see the exposed skin. He didn't think you were a kid per say, he thought you were a very beautiful young woman; too young. He didn’t think it would be appropriate to pursue any sort of relationship with you; it’s not like you were very incognito when it came to checking him out. He knew that you liked him. 

Explains all the teasing you do too. 

The close proximity between you two make you both bothersome; Steve's muscle clenching and fighting every urge in his body to do something he might regret, or worse, something you’ll regret. Your stomach flipped and your mind wandered to what it would be like if you were in this position under different circumstances. 

In an attempt to relieve yourself without Steve knowing you clenched your thighs softly before moving your knee up. Upon moving your knee, your eyes widened and Steve instantly got off you covering his modesty with your sheet. Your face slowly turned into a mischievous smirk before raising your eyebrow at Steve, who profusely blushed under your taunting gaze. 

“Do kids turn you on?” you joked.

“Y/n!” Steve groaned at your highly inappropriate joke.

“I’m kidding!” Steve simply rolled his eyes at you.

“I’m just joshing ya,” you grinned, making Steve chuckle.

“How much of your report have you done?” Steve reached for your laptop; making you panic because you didn’t even have your name let alone a title typed out. 

“Seriously?” he looked at you like a stern father.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you said.

“You don’t even have your name,” he cracked a smile.

“Well, your stories are just too captivating; I was distracted,” you weren’t exactly lying, seeing Steve seem so relaxed and carefree thinking back on memories made you smile. 

“Distracted,” he repeated sarcastically.

“Yeah, I was,” you felt small as Steve got closer to you.

“Is this distracting now?” he mocked.

“Maybe,” you whispered.

He looked at your lips before running his nose along your cheek and your own nose. He pressed his lips too close to your lips, of which you were desperate for him to touch. Your hands grabbed at his arms that were held tightly on your waist for any sort of stability. You felt like you were going to pass out. 

“You better finish that report if you know what’s good for you,” he whispered against your lips. 

“Huh?” you breathed out seeing as Steve has stood up and made his way to your door. 

“You heard me. Come find me when you’ve been a good girl and finished that report,” he slipped out smoothly leaving you high and dry, or rather soaking in arousal. 

Your eyes were practically bulging from your head and you couldn’t believe the Steve with that gnarly stick up his ass was the same one that just easily turned you on like an easy-bake oven and called you a ‘good girl’. You immediately rushed to grab your laptop googling facts about World War II and typed faster than Usain Bolt could run.

Meanwhile Steve stood in the shower with cock in hand, his thumb rubbing over the tip leaking with precum. He ran his hand down his shaft and threw his head back at the pleasure. He moaned your name and tensed his muscles getting close to a release. 

He had to hold on to the wall to keep his knees from buckling. The sight of seeing you under him, squirming and wiggling so innocently made his cock twitch. He knew that you liked him, it wasn’t necessarily a huge secret; you weren’t desperate to hide that fact. But he knew you weren’t going around telling people so he never said anything. 

He went to your room genuinely trying to help with your college report and he got enthralled with his own memories. He didn’t exactly know when the air shifted but he realized it indefinitely when your body tensed under his hand that rested perfectly on your thigh. 

He remembers the softness of skin and remembers the way your breathing quickened. He kept the conversation going as innocently as possible but then you started teasing him about his age, about what an old fashioned sucker he was. And all he could think about in that moment was flipping you over and fucking you into the mattress you showing his “old man moves”. 

“Fuck,” he moaned to himself.

Soon enough after a couple more pumps, he painted the shower walls with his cum desperately wishing it was your stomach or even your back. He just wanted you there with him. He felt guilty thinking about you like that. He knew if he were ever to get with you he wouldn't be able to keep up. You were so spright and mischievous and beautiful and gorgeous and sexy and… wait; slow down, Steve.

He got out of the shower and cleaned himself off. He changed and just stayed in his room letting the sounds of the TV drown any thoughts he might wandered to you. A sudden knock broke the silence settled in his room and he opened the door to find his best friend. 

“Hey, man,” Bucky smiled.

“Buck, your back,” Steve opened the door further letting him come in. 

“Oh, did you get my text? About helping Y/n with her report? Heard it’s like forty percent of her grade,” he said. 

“Yeah uh, I did,” Steve said hesitantly; Bucky narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously.

“What did you do?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Steve retorted.

“I don’t believe you. Come on what happened?” Buck chuckled.

“She called me an old man,” Steve pouted.

“Haha! Seriously?”

“Yeah but jokes on her cuz I-” Steve stopped himself, what if his best friend thought he was a creep.

“Oh no, did you guys fuck?” he asked suddenly.

“Buck,” Steve groaned.

“You did, didn’t you!”

“Almost!” Steve bursted out, his eyes widening in fear.

“Hey, why are you all freaked out? I thought you liked her?” Bucky questioned.

“Yeah, but what? She’s too young. I thought you were gonna think I was a creep,” Steve was confused.

“Well, how old is she?”

“She’s uh, she’s twenty, almost twenty-one,” he muttered.

“Oh, yikes. Uh, I don’t know man. I mean you’re both adults,” Bucky said. 

“Fuck, man. I really fucked up,” Steve said making Bucky ‘language’ him of which Steve glared back.

“Did you kiss her?”

“No, almost,” Steve responded.

“Ok then what happened?”

Steve explained to Bucky what happened just hours ago and Bucky couldn’t help but laugh at his poor friend's antics.

“You’re such a fucking tease, Steve,” Bucky joked.

“Buck, you’re not helping,” Steve grunted.

“Well, either you keep your promise and fuck her good, or be that old man she called you with a stick up your ass and make her feel like shit. No pressure though. See for dinner, I’m going to beat the shit out of Sam,” Bucky stood up.

“What’d he do?”

“Nothing,” with that Bucky left. 

Steve sat there on his bed conflicted. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do. All he knows is that you’re a beautiful girl and Steve wants nothing more than to show you; he knows you'd be more than willing to let him have his way with you. But on the contrary, you are too young. There are tons of guys who would be so lucky to call you theirs; and they’re your age. 

Then again, Steve can’t even imagine another man putting his hands on you. They’d never be able to pleasure you like he could. Ugh, but you called him an old man! Fuck this, Steve thought, I’m taking a nap.

-

You sat in your room busying yourself with facts about the war. You cried about the horrid things that happened, terrified that people that live in the world. You were even more shocked that Bucky and Steve lived through that. 

You glanced at the clock noticing the many hours that had passed you. It was sundown which usually meant Wanda was going to come by any minute-

“What do you want for dinner?” There she is. 

“Uh, I’m not sure. Haven't had much time to think about it,” you said lifting your laptop.

“Did Steve come?”

“I don’t know but he came pretty close,” you said snarkily. When he left about 5 minutes after you had to change your panties because you couldn’t focus on the report with arousal dripping out of you. 

“What the hell does that mean?” Wanda sat on your bed. You told what happened when Steve came by, how innocent everything seemed until it wasn’t. Wanda was rolling on your bed in laughter, snorting at your frustration. 

“Wandaaa,” you whined. 

“Sorry, sorry. But I’m confused,” she cooled down.

“What’s there to be confused about; Steve Rogers is a fucking tease,” you grunted. 

“I thought this is what you want. He clearly seems to like you back,” she said. 

“I don’t know it’s just-”

“Just what?”

“It’s not exactly clear whether he likes me or just wants some young, fresh meat. He didn’t say he liked me back.”

“Did you say you liked him in the first place?”

“No.” Wanda sighed at your answer. Were you overreacting?

“Y/n, I’ve known Steve for a long time and he’s not that kinda guy.”

“People change.”

“Y/n-”

“I just wish it stayed like a little stupid crush, because then I wouldn’t have to worry about my heart getting broken like that; worrying whether it’s real or not. Pining hurts so good, it’s comfortable.”

“Well, on a lighter note, how’s the report?” Wanda changed the subject so you wouldn’t feel bad anymore.

“I’m almost done, I think I’m gonna skip out on dinner. I’m really close to finishing,” you told her.

“Want me to bring you a plate?” she asked.

“Yes, please.”

-

Everyone sat at the table eating silently. Sam held an ice pack to his face because Bucky accidentally threw a rock at him; seriously it was an accident. Bucky threw the rock at his groin but Sam tripped back and the rock landed on his face. There are no hard feelings though, Sam said he was gonna get him and now Bucky’s arm is disabled and limp.

Steve stared at the seat across from him, it was the seat you always took next to Wanda. You weren’t here for dinner and he was wondering if it had something to do with him. Did he make you uncomfortable enough that you never want to see him? 

“She’s finishing her report,” Wanda said, her voice echoing in Steve’s head.

“Ooh what’s the gossip?” Nat said humorously seeing as Wanda’s eyes glowed red as did Steve’s. 

“Nothing,” Steve mumbled. 

“He was wondering where Y/n was?” Wanda said making Steve shoot daggers at her. 

“You miss your little girlfriend?” Sam joked.

“Shut it,” Steve growled.

“She never misses dinner. Where the brat?” Tony asked.

“She has a history report for a college class and she told me she was almost done and that she was gonna skip dinner,” Wanda explained.

No more questions were asked and everyone ate in peace. Small talk and laughter was exchanged appropriately but Steve couldn’t help but wonder if maybe you lied to Wanda to get out of dinner. What if you hate him now? What if you were creeped out by him now? Fuck.

“Steve your plate?” Wanda asked him. 

“Oh sorry, I’m finished. Thank you,” he handed her the plate of picked food. 

“Y/n, asked me if I could bring her a plate when we were finished.”

Steve simply looked puzzled at her. 

“Take this. And don’t break her heart,” she said handing him your plate. 

“I would never,” he said.

“Don’t tell me, tell her.”

Steve walked hesitantly up to your room. He knocked careful not to disturb you. He heard you shout, giving him access to your room and he found you laying on your stomach typing away on your laptop while cartoons played lowly on the TV.

“I brought your dinner,” he said softly.

“Thank you! Ugh, I’m starving but I swear I have like two sentences.”

He smiled and placed your food on your bedside before sitting on the bed with you. He watched your face carefully memorizing the smallest things about you that he’s never really noticed before. He noticed the dryness of your lips because you bit them whenever you were immensely focused just as now. 

He admired the small creases between your eyebrows and the way you scrunched your nose. Your hair was a little crazy and he noticed you had changed since he’d last been with you. He thinks he knows why that is and if it was true, he felt a sense of pride almost. Imagine if he really got to touch the way he wants. How ruined you would be. 

“Steve?” you asked.

“I’m sorry?” he asked.

“Are you ok?” you smiled awkwardly. 

“Oh uh, yeah. I’m ok.”

You ate quietly, eyes trained on the TV and Steve felt out of place. He went to stand up but you placed your food down and called after him.

“Where are you going?” you asked.

“I didn’t think you wanted me here anymore,” he said softly. 

“But, but you said to come find you when I finish my report. You’re already here,” you said shyly.

“Sweetheart, I don’t think-”

“I was a good girl and finished,” you said innocently biting your lip.

“Y/n,” Steve sighed. 

“What?” Oh no, you guessed it. He doesn’t actually like you and he's just messing with you.

“Hey look at me,” Steve grabbed your chin softly. You didn’t want to but you ultimately did.

“I want nothing more than to reward you for being a good girl but I can’t,” he said sadly.

“It's because I’m too young, isn’t it,” you whined. 

“I can’t do that to you. You have your whole life ahead of you, sweetheart. An old man like me shouldn’t keep you back like this,” he said.

“You’re not keeping anywhere, I’m an Avenger just like you. I don’t have anybody else. I’m only going to college because Tony’s paying for it and I took this stupid histroy class because I wanted to know more about what life was like for you. Because I like you,” you said. 

“Y/n, you can have anyone and you’re choosing me?” he chuckled.

“Yes, guys my age don’t even know where the clit is!” you shouted exasperated.

“Show them,” he said stupidly.

“Ah, yes. Because a twenty-two year old college frat boy is gonna wanna listen to you tell him how to have sex,” you said squinting your eyes, making Steve chuckle.

“I don’t want a guy my age, I want you.”

Steve cupped your face softly and you leaned into his hand with a childish pout. Steve smiled at you and your pout turned into a smile too. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me, babygirl,” he sighed, pushing you down to lay on the bed.

“Not if you die from a stroke first old man,” you cracked. 

Steve wrapped his large hand around your neck bringing his face dangerously close yours.

“Smart mouth, and to think I was about to reward you.”

His voice gave you chills and you audibly whimpered under him. Steve pressed his leg between your thighs and your body shudder feeling his muscular thigh firmly pressed against your core.

“Fuck,” your voice shook.

“Does that feel good?” he asked mockingly, he knows what he’s doing.

“Yes, Stevie,” you whimpered.

“Fuck, you sound sweet whimpering and shaking under me. Almost feel kinda bad.”

His hand squeezed a bit harder and your body melted into the bed. He leaned down and kissed for the first time. Your eyes opened wide before fluttering closed again wallowing in his kiss. Your hand moved from his forearm to his face cupping it gently and your lips moved against his impeccably. 

His lips faltered and trailed down your throat, his hand pulling your hair gently to move your head back to give him more room. He nipped and bit at your throat hungrily before soothing his marks with his tongue. His hands sneaked up your shirt, his fingertips grazing the skin under your breasts. He could feel the chills that rose all over your skin and he chuckled darkly in your ear. 

“Is this ok?” he asked softly tugging the waistband of your shorts. 

“Yes, please,” you moaned. 

Steve pulled them down little by little pressing kisses to every new part of exposed skin. He littered your hip bones and thighs with light bruises and bites. You were practically dripping in arousal, toes curling under themselves anticipating Steve’s next move.

He stood up at the edge of the bed keeping his eyes trained on yours, slowly unbuckling his belt. He pulled his pants down showing off his very impressive length. He gripped with his hand pumping it softly. He grabbed your ankle with his other hand and pulled you close to the edge of the bed.

“Lay on your stomach, babygirl,” Steve directed.

You eagerly flipped over, pushing your ass up to the air. Steve smiled at your ambition and gently rubbed your cheeks you put up for him. He pumped his cock a few times before lining himself up with you. 

“Fuck, you gonna be my good girl?” he asked seductively.

“Yeah, fuck. Stevie, fuck me good,” you moaned. 

“Open up those pretty legs for me, will ya?” Steve smirked. You spread your legs wider and arched your back more. When Steve finally pushed past your entrance, you felt so full. 

“You gotta breathe baby,” Steve soothed. 

“Sorry, you’re just… so big,” you whimpered.

“I know baby but you're taking my cock so well, you're being such a good fucking girl.”

“Steve!” you squeaked. 

Steve snapped his hips in and out of you rapidly and you couldn’t help the high-pitched moans that escaped your mouth. Steve gripped your hips harshly, forming littles red and purple marks on your hip bones that you’ll have to admire tomorrow morning. 

You gasped and moaned at the feeling of Steve’s cock driving into you and you couldn’t hold back any longer. 

“Stevie, I’m gonna come! Fuck, I can’t hold it. Please daddy let me come!”

“Come on pretty baby, come for daddy. Make a mess all over my cock like a good girl,” he groaned above you.

Your body trembled and your arms fell forward as you nearly screamed Steve’s name in pure ecstasy. You breathed heavily but Steve wasn’t done with you yet. He pulled his still ever hard dick out of you momentarily to rid his shirt. He walked to the side of the bed and sat comfortably with his back against the headboard. 

“Come here baby girl. I know you’re tired but I think you pull one more for me, yeah?” his voice was silky. 

You whimpered and tried your best to sit up all the way, crawling desperately over to Steve. He kissed you softly before slowly pulling the hem of your shirt over your head to expose your breasts fully to him. 

“Fuck, you are just too beautiful, sweetheart,” he whispered in your ear, his voice raspy making your body shudder above him. 

His hands roamed your body; smoothing over your ribs, your hips to your thighs, back to hips against pulling you impossibly closer to him. His lips again just as before nipped and pecked the skin along your neck and collarbones and you could resist the small whimpers you made. 

“Steve,” you moaned.

“I got ya, baby. I’m right here.”

You looked into his lust blown eyes before kissing him messily. Your age divulges your experience but Steve couldn't care less. You lifted your hips for him and he lined himself once again to your entrance. 

Your arousal made it easier this time around and you were able to fully bask in the feeling and pleasure from Steve’s length. You hastily moved your hips around, back and forth, the position completely new to you. You felt erotic and confident and Steve’s kisses and praises did nothing but egg you on. 

“You're doing so good, my love. God, you keep clenching me like that and I’m gonna blow,” he moaned.

“Please, Stevie. I want to make you feel good,” you encouraged.

“You already are, don’t even worry about that,” he smirked.

Your hands gripped at his shoulders hard, nails digging into his pale skin. Your clit rubbed against his pelvis and soon enough you felt another orgasm approaching quickly. As you grew tired, Steve’s hands went to your cheeks and aided you in moving back and forth.

Your arms gave out again and you fell against Steve's torso still thrusting your hips back and forth with his help. The pressure built rapidly in your lower stomach and you couldn’t hold it again. 

“Steve,” you moaned. 

“I know, just hold on, please. I wanna come with you; I’m almost there,” he gasped. 

You held back as long as you but soon enough your body shook against Steve, desperate to release everything you have in you. In an attempt to distract yourself momentarily, you treated Steve the same by nipping and kissing the skin of his neck and shoulder. Your hands combing into his hair, tugging on his short blonde hair. 

“Ok, go ahead babygirl,” he grunted, “Fuck!”

“Ugh, Steve!” you couldn’t help but sink your teeth into his shoulder. Ecstasy waved over you and you feel euphoric. Your body trembled from intensity and Steve whispered soft praises in your ear. His words soothed you and your eyes felt heavy. Steve tracing little patterns on the small of your back did not help your tired case. 

“I gotta clean you up, sweetheart,” Steve whispered, you could hear the smile in his voice.

“No, stay with me, please,” you whined. 

“I promise I’ll be back,” he chuckled.

“Hm,” you huffed.

You slowly rolled off of Steve and he practically ran to your bathroom emerging with a warm wet towel in hand. You laid limply on the bed, your breathing slowly returning to normal. Steve kissed your stomach and hips softly as he cleaned between your thighs gently. He went back to the bathroom and cleaned himself up as well.

“Come back,” you whined, making him chuckle.

“Yay,” you cheered softly when he did.

“Are you ok, sweetheart?” 

“Mh-hm,” you nodded tiredly.

“I freaking love you,” you said, hiking your leg over to lay on top of him again. You nuzzled your nose in the crook of his neck.

“You do?”

“Yeah.” There was a slight moment of pause.

“Do you love me?” your voice crack and tears brimmed your eyes.

“I shouldn’t…” he started. His heart nearly broke when you looked up at him with teary eyes; afraid he would say he didn’t and you fell in love just to get your heart broken.

“But I do,” he finally said.

“Thanks,” you sniffled, making Steve smile.

“I love you, sweetheart,” he kissed the top of your head. 

“I love you too, old man.”

-

The next morning, Steve slipped out of bed while you were still asleep, you looked so beautiful and peaceful. It took everything in him not to just crawl back into bed with you but Steve had a couple things to do and it was already past eight. He promised to himself that he was gonna come back before you wake up.

So he softly closed the door before immediately running around the compound filing paperwork, directing agents and trainees, meeting with Nick Fury, and lastly making breakfast for you and him. Wanda, Bucky, and Sam all sat at the counter eating bowls of cereal watching Steve frantically run around the kitchen making breakfast. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Bucky spoke up. 

“I’m making breakfast,” Steve momentarily stopped to say. 

“Ok, but why are you freaking out like that? You’re running around like a crazy person.”

“I have to make it before-” Steve stopped himself. He didn't know whether or not he should say anything, whether you were comfortable with others knowing yet. 

“What did you do?” Wanda said, smiling like an idiot.

“Nothing, I’m just really hungry and I need to make breakfast before I starve,” he said.

“Really?”  Bucky said.

“Yeah.”

“Where’s Y/n?”

“She’s aslee-” Steve stopped himself again.

The three at the counter bursted into a fit of laughter at Steve’s slip up and he just simply rolled his eyes before finally plating the food and running upstairs. Not without flipping the three still laughing off. 

He slowly opened the door finding you still asleep in bed. He smiled at your beautiful form illuminated by the golden rays of the sun peeking through the curtains. He placed the food on your table before sitting on the bed, his hands softly running up and down your side to slowly wake you. 

Your eyes fluttered open and upon seeing Steve’s gorgeous face you smiled. 

“Good morning, old man,” you grinned cheekily. 

“When are you let that go?” he shook his head.

“Never,” you winked.

“I brought you food, pretty girl.”

“Thank you,” you sat up covering yourself. You ate the food he made for you and made grabby hands for him to cuddle you. He laughed before crawling back into bed with you. You made a face though before he got fully under the covers and he gave a puzzled look.

“What?”

“Why are you all dressed?”

“I had a couple things to do this morning and then I made you breakfast. I couldn’t walk around in my birthday suit,” he laughed.

“Hm, fine. I’ll give you a pass,” you said making him chuckle, “Can you at least take your shirt off again?”

He smiled cheekily before getting up and taking his shirt and pants off leaving him in his boxers. You cheered making him laugh even harder before he dived into bed cuddling you extra close. His strong arms wrapping safely around you and his legs entangling themselves with yours. 

You kissed him one last time before grabbing your TV remote and turning on the TV to watch cartoons.

“You know sometimes you really are a kid,” Steve snickered.

“Yeah grandpa? What about this,” you fluffed his beard that specks of grey hairs.

“Do I need to show my old man moves again?” he smirked.

“Yeah, I think you oughta,” you winked before Steve threw the covers kissing your stomach all the way to your core. You gotta admit, the old man’s got some moves. 

==================

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (For all my work)

@mathletemadison​

@buckybarnes101​

@l-sofiamia-l 

[rreyie]

k. (eren j. x reader)

summary; you're well aware by now that your feelings of eren have blossomed into something more than a fuckbuddy. but you're not quite sure if he'll agree.

content warnings; smut (18+), fingering, oral (f. receiving), vaginal, unprotected sex, unestablished relationship, degrading, use of pet names, creampie, slight dumbification, hurt at the end i’m sorry.

word count; 2.2k

a/n; the fic that has been sitting in my drafts for 2 months has been completed! anyways i’m sorry i’m advance

you're well aware by now that eren jaeger isn't just a one night stand you had a week ago. you couldn't quite call it a friendship now, but perhaps fuckbuddies- or people who banged on the low with no strings attached.

well, you wouldn't say you didn't have feelings for him by now. you couldn't tell if it was his mischievous personality or his nine inch long dick, but there were certainly more than platonic feelings on your end.

you two had met when armin, mikasa and eren bought a house to rent out for college. you were a friend of mikasa's and had nowhere to go except to the house they rented, so you moved in. you and eren clicked almost instantaneously, as if you were best friends your whole life.

the sexual tension between you two was inexplicable. and you both knew it. and that's why one day, eren chose to make his move when you two were watching "finding nemo: blu-ray dvd edition" on the couch in the living room.

you two fucked during the scene when the little red-headed girl was terrorizing the other fish. but you two don't talk about it. all that mattered was that it was good sex- and by good, you meant really. fucking. good. you had no clue how he gained all this experience, but that didn't matter either.

now you were here, nearing the end of your sophomore year. this little rendezvous with eren had lasted five months now. you two definitely fucked often- sometimes sucking him off while he was studying for is psychology course, other times bending you over the bathroom counter with a death grip on your asscheeks.

this time he had walked into your room while you were clicking away at your laptop while you sat on your bed, doing your best to study for the exam you had next week. he didn't say a word, just laid down on the bed next to you and stared up at the ceiling.

you tried your hardest to ignore him, but your train of thought was lost when he cleared his throat unnecessarily loudly as if you couldn't already tell that he was right next to you.

you shut your laptop in defeat, and turned your head over to eren, a smile ever so slightly curling on his lips. you were unamused at his behavior.

"yes, eren?" you ask, eyes locking with his jade orbs. he clearly hasn't slept in a while, telling from the dark circles under his eyes, contrasting his somewhat tan skin. his brown hair was in its messy bun like normal, tied up sloppily with some baby hairs poking out here and there.

"dunno", he responded. "just seeing what you're up to."

"mhm? well, that sounds like bullshit to me, mister jaeger", you scoff. "you always come in here and make yourself at home when you're horny."

eren sighed, and sat up from his position. "fine, you caught me red handed. but i know you're as horny as i am."

"...you're right", you admit, before he flips over so he's on all fours and crawls over so he's in front of you. the several rings that adorned his fingers glistened in the ceiling light above, his grey sweatshirt hanging loosely around his body. though what he always wore was so simple, he never failed to look breathtaking in it.

tugging at the waist of your sweatpants, eren growled a "take it off" before you slid your hands down to your waist and did as he told you, leaving you in your panties. you didn't wear nice ones today assuming you weren't going to be fucking somebody, but here you were.

the rest was done by him as he pulled down your panties, breath hitching at the sight of your wet cunt. eren licked his lips hungrily.

"wet? already? what are you, some kind of whore?"

when you only looked at him with doe eyes, he rose his voice. "well? give me an answer, slut."

his very words made something awaken in your core, and you responded with a "y-your whore, eren."

eren nodded in satisfaction, content with your answer. "you're learning."

in past experiences, you had been quite a brat to him- as he would say. constantly going up against what he wanted, trying to dominate him. but every single time he ended up pushing you back down and pounding you into the nearest surface, making you state exactly who you belonged to. but since you were being good this time, he relented.

dipping a cold finger into your folds, he collected the juices that wetted the outer lips of your cunt, savoring the warmth it provided him in contrast to his hand. in response, you jolted at the cold temperature, only for eren to hold you down by the waist to prevent too much movement.

working his fingers inside your impossibly tight cunt, he pushed in one, swirling it around in an attempt to find your sweet spot- in which he succeeded. with a hum of approval, he pushed through another finger past the bit of muscle and into your walls, placing it in the same spot the other finger was. curling his digits around that spongy spot and placing the gentlest pressure upon it. letting a pathetic whimper escape your lips, eren is quick to stop what he's doing and reach for your panties.

"w-what are you doing?" you croak, voice weak from the recent stimulation.

"shutting you the fuck up", he snapped back in response. balling up your pair of soaked panties, he stuffed them in your mouth, making you gag a little. he only smirked at the fact you were struggling. "you're just too fuckin' loud. if armin and mikasa weren't downstairs i would let you have at it, but we've gotta keep this a secret baby."

resuming what he was doing a minute ago, he moves his mouth closer to your cunt, ever so gently wrapping his lips around your delicate little clit. your hips bucked upwards as he put his two fingers in their previous spot, pumping slowly in and out.

you're only able to mumble in approval as his pumping turns languid and rough, and before you know it you're already feeling that knot that's all too familiar in your stomach. you yelp into your balled up panties that occupied your little mouth, the sound coming out muffled. erens brow raises as he removes his fingers from your fluttering cunt.

you're about to mutter something in disapproval, but eren starts talking before you. "i told you to stay quitet, princess. what don't you get about that? are you that stupid whore i thought you were? yeah, i thought so."

"'m not a stupid whore", you say, making your statement clear even though there was a piece of fabric in your mouth.

"then show it", eren demands as he slides his fingers back in, his thrusting become too quick for you to resist an orgasm, but still staying quiet so he would let you cum.

you gush all over his fingers, creamy white liquid coating his fingers as he pulls out, and places his fingers in his mouth, licking off the substance. you're reduced to a panting mess on your bed.

"that tired, are ya?" eren mocks you. "too bad. i still've got a hard cock and you're gonna take care of it." he isn't wrong. his print is easily visible in his grey sweats, at its full length and glory.

"more", you pant out. "want your cock, can handle it, eren..."

"i know you can, princess", he coos as he practically rips down his pants and boxers at the same time, exposing his hardened and flushed cock. the tip was tinted red, a few veins protruding through the skin on the side. he had a pretty cock indeed.

"bend over", he commands. shakily, you comply and get on all fours so that your head is near a pillow in case your legs give out. "that's'a girl."

you can feel him come up from behind you, and rub his warm tip over your cunt, making a shiver run down your spine. his size never failed to make you at least just a little bit nervous, it always hurt a bit when it went in but he prepped you well enough that it would slide in easily.

with his right hand, he grabbed the sturdy frame of the headboard, and with his left, started to push his cockhead into your tight little hole. you squealed as you felt his flesh enter you slowly, but soon sheathed his whole self in with one thrust.

"fuck- you're tight", he grunted, and removed his left hand so it was now gripping your ass. you could feel his fingernails digging into the supple skin, likely leaving red crescent marks. after eren took a deep breath or two, he started his movements. and he didn't relent.

the pace he was moving at was almost dizzying, making you let out a few high-pitched wails. his balls slapped up against your behind, lewd noises of skin on skin filling the room. he held onto the headboard, making the bed shake and creak with every new thrust he took.

"eren, eren, eren", you mumbled, completely cockdrunk by him. "more, more please".

eren smirked, his hair starting to fall out of his bun. "liking that? i knew it, you're just a whore. begging for my cock like always, just like the slut i've always known."

his words were mean, but they made you clamp around his dick, making him release a stuttered moan. were you perhaps sick for liking the way he degraded you? you didn't know and didn't care.

"s' good, 'ren", you gasped, wanting him to keep calling you these names and degrading you down to the bone. you would never let any man talk to you like that- only eren could, he did it the right way.

"i know baby, i know", he purred. "m' gonna cum, you gonna cum with me?"

"y-yes!" you shriek, feeling your second orgasm creep up on you, making your stomach do a somersault. "please 'ren! make me cum! need you filling me up!"

eren gave a dark chuckle, and threw his head back into a moan. your orgasm hit you like a truck, the pleasure taking over your entire body and making you shake uncontrollably, squealing into your pillow as your legs gave out. eren knew this was coming, so he removed his right hand from his headboard and put both of his hands under your legs to hold you out as he rode out his high. he jackhammered into you, balls tightening as the knot in his stomach finally snapped, making his cum spurt out of his tip and into your cunt. you were left immobile and speechless, drooling into your pillow as he pulled himself out and let his semen leak out from your hole and all over your sheets.

after he finished panting, he looked over to you. "you good?"

"mmph", you mumble, eren barely hearing you. you meant for that to be an affirmation.

he flipped you over so you were on your back, your sweatshirt still on your body. he cursed himself for not removing it, but there was always a next time. he smiled at your state, knowing he fucked you that good.

“you did good, princess”, he grinned, and pulled up his boxers again, and searched for his phone which he left somewhere in the room.

“eren”, you ask. “where are you going?”

“there’s a party at jeans dorm tonight. you going?”

you sigh. “no, studying for the exam. i need to pass it, maybe i’ll go next time.”

eren nodded, and walked out the door. “thanks again.”

staring up at the ceiling, you wondered how eren could always treat the fact you two fucked on the regular so casually. he always went around and flirted with other girls at parties, but never took them home.

well, it was now or never that you were going to make your move.

you grabbed your phone from your nightstand and unlocked it, your home screen being a photo of you, eren, armin and mikasa all huddled around the couch for a movie night. you opened your messaging app, and clicked on erens contact. this is where you began drafting your message.

| You: um okay hi eren! so thanks for today, it felt really good as always. but i was wondering if maybe you would want to take things further? we can go out to dinner thursday night if you’re free :)

reading it over once before sending, you pressed the blue button that sent the message to him. it took two minutes for him to read if.

the three dots in a bubble popped up on his end of the conversation. you internally panicked, wondering if this was the right choice.

| erennn: i mean don’t we fuck? don’t get me wrong u cool but i mean idk man

your heart quite literally froze at the sight of his message. the dots popped up again, and you held your breath waiting for an answer.

| erennn: so like fuckbuddies basically, that’s all i want rn so uhhhh yeah 💀

this was the exact moment you felt your heart physically sink. fuck, now you’ve embarrassed yourself. would he think your weird?

wanting to act calm and unaffected by his answer, all you wrote was one letter.

| You: k.

[stutterfly]

Love Bytes 09 |  Trivia: 01001100 | KNJ (M)

Last time on Love Bytes 08: After a night that left your head spinning, your best friend confessed his feelings for you. Now that you’ve admitted the same, everything is different.... but is it?

Rating: M (Explicit 18+)

Word Count: 17K

Series: Love Bytes (9/9)

Genre: Friends to lovers, IDIOTS to LOVERS, fluff, humor, slow burn, friendship feels, angst, pining, sexual tension, SMUT, Bestfriends!au, CollegeProjessor!Namjoon, IT/Nerd!Reader

CW& Other Tags: corny humor, nipple play, an absurd amount of kissing, dirty talk, grinding, fingering, hair pulling, sexual instruction, let’s play just the tip, cunnilingus, blowjob, protected sex, sexual roleplay, unprotected sex, adoring boyfriendJoonie, suave Joonie, supportive friendships, love talk, dorks in love

Pairings: Namjoon x Reader, brot7

Posted January 2021 by stutterfly & cross-posted to ao3. Do not repost.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You’ve crossed the line you’ve been so afraid of only to discover there really isn’t anything to fear at all. Namjoon has already made you a totally non-burnt breakfast and told you about the success of his student following the release of the poetry program. When he brings up the poem he wrote as an example, you beg him to read it for you.

He apologizes again for that day when you clicked on the document containing the draft, with dozens and dozens of half-thoughts and scribbled words placed within. He wasn't ready to show you then. He settles on the couch and opens his laptop. You look over his shoulder as he clicks a vaguely familiar document labeled: Trivia_L_Final. Unable to sate your curiosity, your eyes scan through the first few lines but he quickly flips the screen down.

“Patience."

"Ugh," you complain. "But you said I could see."

"I said I was gonna share," he clarifies with a snort. "That doesn't mean I want your speed-reading ass going through it at lightspeed without understanding any of it."

"Fair." You cross your arms but stare at him expectantly, trying your best to be patient.

“Is this love?”

He pauses to spare a glance up from the screen and freezes when his eyes meet yours. Even after everything you’ve shared he still finds himself sweating through the thin tank top he’s put on. Although he’s sure he’s masked his apprehension behind a wall of stone, all it takes is your soft, reassuring smile to break through. A wave of serenity quickly douses the anxiety. It crashes against his wall, and erodes its harsh edges until all that’s left is a familiar longing to kiss your lips.

“Is this love?” he repeats with emphasis. “Sometimes I know. Sometimes I don’t.”

He can’t stop grinning at the way your smitten gaze matches his own. It’s a difficult decision, but ultimately he chooses to ignore the urge to pull you in for the hundredth kiss of the morning and continues on instead. You sit and listen, hanging on every word you know was painstakingly thought out and written for you.

You're my person. You're my desire. You're my pride.

You're my love. One and only love.

The closing words are left echoing in your head. It’s so easy for you to forget that Namjoon is as smart as he is. Right now you feel too stupid to respond. Nothing can possibly match the perfection of his poem.

“Please say something.” He quickly closes his laptop and sets it aside. “Actually, wait, don't. It was too much wasn’t it?” He reaches over and places a large palm over your forehead and begins lightly rubbing. “Delete it from your brain.”

A laugh bubbles from your throat. “What are you doing?”

“Wiping your hard drive.”

His response has you cackling. Did he really just make such a lame joke all on his own? You grab his wrist and pull him close while a big cheesy grin graces your features. “I think I’m rubbing off on you.”

He groans as he leans in and pauses before kissing you. “You are.”

His hand gently cups the back of your neck as he slips his tongue inside your mouth. You lose yourself to the rhythm of your tongues rolling across one another, hungry to keep tasting and feeling. It takes every ounce of self control you have to pull away long enough to breathe out a compliment.

“You’re incredible. Your poem is so good.”

“I had a good muse.” He smiles and moves in for another kiss but you press a finger to his lips.

“I mean it. I love what you wrote. I don’t think anyone’s ever written anything so beautiful with me in mind.”

To spare himself from the embarrassment tingling in his belly, he presses his lips to the pad of your finger with a few light, teasing kisses before moving to repeat the motion against your neck. Goosebumps immediately prickle at your flesh and you can’t help the way your hands travel along the warmth of his body, seeking to consume his heat to assuage the chill in yours.

“You make it easy,” he mumbles, kissing a line up to your ear.

“Do I? I thought I made it harder.” Your smile grows impossibly bigger as you reach down to palm him through his basketball shorts and find exactly what you’d been hoping to.

A breathy sigh warms the shell of your ear. “Fuck. You know you do.” He drags the lobe through his teeth and exhales another sigh at the way you tease his shaft. “Wanna practice?”

He whispers the words against your ear like they’re some secret he’s almost too shy to reveal and you deliver your response with equal timidity. “Please?”

Warm fingers press into the skin at your stomach and travel upward. The action disregards the flimsy white fabric of your borrowed shirt, which slides up with the rising of his arm. You think he's about to cup your breast when he suddenly changes direction and slides his fingers around your ribs to tickle you.

"Na-Namjoon!"

You're a little offended that he would do you dirty like this when you basically just begged him to fuck you for the second time today. But, if you're being honest you're also incredibly grateful. He knows how to take the nerves out of everything with such ease that you almost forget how new this aspect of your relationship is.

You grab at his hand, effectively pulling him down into a kiss brimming with laughter between the pair of you. When you try to retaliate he grabs your wrists to keep your cold fingers at bay. As his tongue dips into your mouth again, he slowly guides your hands above your head. You shift beneath him, spreading your legs so he can slot a knee between them and get even closer. It feels like it's always been this way. Nothing's going to change. This is just you guys. It's always been you guys.

At the heart of your friendship, it's always been about you being dorks together and having each other's backs. You'd never considered the possibility of adding even more physicality to it before but now you don't want to imagine life without it because it feels so fucking good. It feels so fucking right.

Instead of bearing his weight down on you, he drags your bottom lip through his teeth and lets it snap back. He hums a satisfied sound as he rises, pulling you to your feet with him. Your head feels light and for a moment it feels like you might float away, but his arms are strong and they ground you in a tight embrace. He begins walking you backwards and peppers your neck with light kisses.

“Trying to get me back into your bed, huh?” you tease.

He brushes his nose against your neck and inhales deeply, taking in your scent before expelling an airy, audible sigh. “Ah… You see right through me. I mean we could do it on the couch if you prefer. I just thought it might be a little more comfortable, you know, somewhere where I can lay you down so you don’t get a leg cramp or anything.”

You can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of his statement. “How considerate.”

“Yeah, you know, ‘cause I plan on being between your legs as long as it takes.”

“Oh?” You feign ignorance. As he spins you towards him you’re glad he’s holding you steady because it feels like you’re about to faint. “As long as it takes for what?”

The tone of his voice drops low as he leans against your ear. “To make you cum.”

You stiffen in his embrace, frozen by interwoven fears of inability and inadequacy.

“Is that okay?” he asks, guiding your stiff form towards the bed.

The large, borrowed t-shirt bunches up around your thighs as you sit on the edge. It seems like every few days he’s telling himself he’s never seen you look so beautiful. Maybe you’re really to blame for the increased frequency. Now you’re looking at him in a similar light to the way he’s always seen you, and it’s added a new layer to everything.

“Yeah.” You nod, pausing to chew on your lip. “Just… don’t expect too much, okay?”

“Hey, no pressure. I promise. I just want to make you feel good.”

You pull him into a kiss before wiggling backwards up the bed. He follows your lead, slotting a knee between your legs as he climbs over you in an attempt to chase your lips.

“You do make me feel good. All the time.”

He assails your neck with kisses until he’s hovering above your lips. “Really good, though. Like right now. Right here.”

He takes a moment to meet your eyes as he ghosts his fingertips over your stomach, traveling down towards your mound. Almost as if he second guesses himself he stops and moves his hand back up to rest just above your navel.

“Can I try again?”

An embarrassed smile creeps across your face. “You really want to, huh?”

“Of course.” He pauses and his voice drops to a low whisper. “Will you show me how you like it?”

Your palms slide up your cheeks until your fingers cover your eyes. You purse your lips and try to keep your brain from short-circuiting. “Joooon.”

“What?” He shakes his head and offers a small laugh. “Why are you so shy now?”

“Because,” you murmur.

“Because...?” he prods when you leave the explanation unsaid.

“I’m embarrassed.” The words tumble out in a whisper but he seems to catch them regardless.

Hot, sweaty palms encircle your wrists and push them aside. It doesn’t take much effort to separate your hands from your face and when he does he slides his hands up to meet yours. In perfect sync, the pair of you weave your fingers together like you have a thousand times before.

The truth is that you want him. You want him so badly that your cheeks are on fire and all you can hear is your heartbeat in your ears. Despite seeing his mouth in motion, every nerve ending in your body is preparing for his touch. Anticipation overrides every other command in the forefront of your mind as your knuckles press into the pillows beside your head.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he whispers, planting a kiss on your cheek. “Your body is perfect. I could spend all day exploring it, exploring you. I wanna learn what feels good for you. Teach me. Teach me how to make you cum.”

In a stupor you blink slowly and gape at him in wonder, offering a tiny wordless nod. You’re not sure if you’ll be able to instruct him with much success. It’s not like you’re a teacher in any sense of the word and it’s definitely not something you’ve ever tried to talk through with a partner. But his eyes seem to sparkle in the dim light and the sight floods you with the determination to try, even if you don’t know how to begin.

Luckily Namjoon has an idea to assist with comfortability. He carefully positions himself beside you and runs his fingers down your chest, basking in the sight of your areola, which are perfectly visible through the faded fabric.

“You look so hot in my shirt.”

Your ears flush with heat at the compliment. Massaging light circles around the nipple he’s chosen to tease, he watches in wonder as it grows rigid. He experiments, alternating featherlight touches with a tiny pinch between his fingers.

“Do you like this?”

Words seem to escape you at the moment so you nod and mirror his actions on your other nipple. The barrier between his fingers frustrates your growing desire for skin on skin contact. You slowly hike up the shirt past your stomach to expose your breast. His eyes widen and guiltily dart away.

You pull the shirt back down abruptly and sit up with hot embers of embarrassment heating your cheeks. Maybe he's having second thoughts now that he's seeing you up close again. Before your mind can spiral too far he places his hand over yours.

"Sorry. It's not that. I just— Promise me you won't ask me to forget? I want to remember how you look, how you feel, how you taste.”

Relief cools the fire in your face and you half-heartedly chuckle as you climb over his lap. Cupping the side of his face, he Instinctively he leans into your touch.

"Joonie, I don’t think I could ever do that now. There's not a single restore point we could go back to, and I don't want there to be. I never want to pretend like I don't love you with my whole heart ever again. Because the moment you kissed me it's like this weight lifted from my shoulders. Everything I'd been locking away in my heart finally broke free. And it felt… incredible. It felt right. There's not a doubt in my mind. You're my person. You're my light. You're my pride."

"My one and only love," he adds with a kiss to your palm.

You smile and nod, pushing down the tears threatening to spill out of your eyes with a joke. "Are you gonna change your mind now?"

"Wouldn't dream of it." He smiles at you softly, watching you struggle to regain your composure as you sit back on his abdomen.

"Good. 'Cause it's like a totally binding thing now."

"Oh, okay," he laughs and lifts himself with his elbows to get a better look at you. "You gonna type up those terms and conditions for me? I'll sign, Geeksquad. Get me those papers."

"Yeah, yeah. Let me write a draft right now.” You press him back against the bed and lean over his chest, splaying your fingers out for a moment before pretending they're tapping away at a keyboard.

"Under this agreement, I, Y/N, agree to the following conditions..."

"God, you're a dork."

"We have fun. We have lots of…" you stop to giggle and wiggle your eyebrows, "you know, sex when we both want it."

He rolls his eyes but he's smiling so big his cheeks hurt. "You're so corny and I'm here for it."

"And…" you pause and meet his eyes as you fake-type the next condition. "We don't ever feel bad about loving each other. I'm in love with you and I don't want to waste another minute of my life acting like I feel any other way."

He looks down at his chest. Your fingers have stopped moving. "Is all that going in the, uh, love contract? It's a binding thing, you know."

"Yes, yes," you agree, pretending to catch up on typing. "If something doesn't work, we will talk about it. Deal?"

He doesn’t even stop to think about it before he answers, looking down at your fingers like they'll show him an invisible dotted line. "Okay where do I sign?”

"See I'm typing on your heart because that's how this works. So..."

You bite your lip and lift your shirt over your head, watching his eyes struggle to stay focused on your face. You really don't deserve him.

"You type and sign right here." Your fingers lure his gaze down to the valley between your breasts and then slightly to the left. "Right on my heart.”

He ghosts his fingers over the area you’ve pointed to and licks his lips, trying to hide his smirk. “Actually your heart is a little bit lower and a little bit…” He massages his fingers against your breast. “Here.”

“Hmm. Educational and strategic. What a combo.”

"Do I gotta type the whole thing up before I sign?"

You roll your eyes. "Depends. You gonna type as shitty as you usually do?"

He tongues his cheek as he starts tapping away at your breast with his two pointer fingers. It’s too true to reality. “Under this agreement I, Kim Namjoon--”

“Nevermind this is taking too long,” you complain, wiggling over his lap. He quickly drums his fingers over your chest. “--Agree to everything you just said. Signed... Namjoon...” His fingertips trace his name along your breast. “It’s a deal.”

“Okay, okay.” You laugh and reciprocate. “If you break it I'll probably cry and Jennie will beat you up."

“Like I would ever…” he mumbles.

With a rut of his hips he cups your breasts in his hands and resumes gently working his fingers over your nipples. Following the slow rhythm he sets, you grind yourself down and thumb at the band to his basketball shorts, pulling them down just enough to reveal that sliver of dark hair leading below. A loud groan escapes with his breath. His heart aches to feel you against him again, without barriers.

He sits up and heaves his shirt over his head with reckless abandon. His arms are immediately wrapping around your waist, fingernails digging into the skin of your back with the hope feeling your body can assuage the ache in his chest. The heat of his mouth envelops your nipple before you can comment on his earnest behavior and you whimper instead. His rough embrace draws you closer, and his sinful tongue batters your nipple as you loop an arm around his neck and tangle your fingers in his hair.

The suction of his mouth makes you throw your head back. “Fuck, Joon.”

He moans and skims his lips across your chest to show your other breast love. Despite his adoration for the current position of his face, it’s not enough. Greed overtakes him. He holds you tight and musters the strength to flip you onto your back. The tiny squeal you make in response makes his dick twitch. You make such wonderful sounds.

As you draw him into a kiss, the barrier of silky basketball shorts do nothing to conceal his hardness. It makes you crazy. You want to feel his dick glide against your folds again. When you raise your hips to grind your clit against him he meets your motion with equal enthusiasm.

“Take them off,” you mumble. “Put it in me, Namjoon. Please.”

It’s hard to say no when every fantastical thought about you he’s ever had is now coming to fruition. How long has he yearned to hear those words? He thinks of earlier. He thinks of the disappointment he holds for his own performance, how he squandered his opportunity to make you feel the way you deserve.

“But I wanna go down on you,” he insists, slowly making his way down your torso. He plants deep kisses as he goes, working a trail of tiny dark marks into the surface of your skin.

“Joon…”  Your fingers claw at his back as he descends.

“Show me how you like it. I’m a good student. I promise.”

The ever present flames in your chest burn hotter, searing a path to your cheeks. He kisses along your hip and pauses to inspect the bruise from your earlier slip. He carefully creeps past it, and instead focuses on the skin of your inner thigh. Taking your hand in his, he positions it over your cunt. He rests his cheek against your thigh to watch the way your fingers settle in place.

“Are you gonna be looking at me like that the entire time?” You laugh, covering as much of your sex as you can with your hand.

“I’m a quick learner,” he assures you. “Plus…” He leans in and laps at the glistening slick in the space between your fingers. “I could taste you all day.”

“It’s after noon,” you mumble, drawing your fingers away to allow him greater access to your folds.

“Mmm,” he hums against you, letting his tongue explore every crevice of your labia. “You want me to keep going?”

Your head falls back against the pillow and you lift your hips with a whimper. “Yes.”

“How?”

Pulling his mouth back just enough to allow your finger to creep back into place, he offers a blissful sigh as you work light circles against your clit. He places a finger over yours and follows the movement, listening to your quiet breathing. He cocks his head to the side and repositions, sliding his finger beneath yours to take control.

“Like this, baby?”

It’s been so long. You’d forgotten just how good it feels to have someone else touch you, to not have to put the work in yourself to attain the reward. It feels so good. Maybe you will be able to let go.

“A little more pressure.”

You guide him again by pressing down over his finger and moving him towards the peak of your clit. He immediately gives in to the change of pace. After a little while he finds his own rhythm and you move your fingers to the back of his head where you tangle them in his hair.

“Yes, like that.”

Confident in his ability to hit that spot again, he glides his fingers down to tease your entrance and brings his lips to your clit. Your entire core tingles as he presses down and creates suction around the tiny bud. As your hips lift in ecstasy he wraps an arm around your thigh and slips two fingers into your slick cunt. Much to his delight you moan in tandem with your desperate exhale.

A proud grin spreads his lips apart and he does his best to hide it by battering his tongue over your clit instead. How many fantasies has he indulged in? How is it that they all pale in comparison to your true taste and sounds? Determined to keep himself on task, he focuses on the spot you seemed to favor and presses his lips back down while rolling his tongue along you. His fingers curl up and search for the promised sweet spot within your cunt.

You tense and clench around his fingers, body desperate to draw him deeper, to take more of him inside of you in any way that you can. Then you feel it: the unmistakable pleasurable pressure steadily rising within. You don’t want to let it slip away this time. With the pads of his fingers pressing as close to your g-spot as he can, the area of your clit you need him to hit with his tongue seems to shift.

Palms shaking, you pull on Namjoon’s hair to guide him to your newest point of pleasure. “Right there. Right there.”

He moans and expels shaky breaths through his nose. Immediately feeling guilty for being rough, you soften your grip and lovingly smooth back his hair. Disheveled, sweat-slicked strands fall against his forehead, rebelling against your touch.

“Sorry,” you mumble, cradling the sides of his face, trying to draw him up from his position. “Did I hurt you?”

He doesn’t budge. Dark brown eyes flicker upwards. The electric tingle in your heart steals your breath as you’re caught in his lurid gaze. He digs his fingernails into the soft flesh of your inner thigh and the energy contained in your chest bursts. Shockwaves of internal chills scatter throughout your body.

“Don’t you dare apologize,” he whispers. “Pull me however you want, baby.”

His voice is so low and soft that it barely registers to your ears. Your brain doesn’t have time to process the words before he drags his nose over your clit and sucks on your labia. You gasp out his name as he moves back to tongue your clit. He keeps his eyes on you as he plunges his fingers into you with a renewed sense of urgency, desperate to make you say it again. It doesn’t take long for a stuttered verse of his name to sputter from your pretty lips.

Another shockwave of excitement pulses through your gut. He makes it so easy to lose yourself in the pleasure he offers. Any shame and anxiety falls to the wayside, making way for your impending orgasm. You gasp out a pitiful sound and grind your pelvis towards his soft, plush lips to create even more pressure where you need it most. There’s no doubt he feels the way you clench around his fingers and because he reaches as far as he can in search of your g-spot and looks to your face for any sign of discomfort. Instead he finds you looking back through half lidded eyes that threaten to close any moment. With your eyebrows knitted together and quivering lips parted, he knows you’re on the brink of coming undone.

You reach for the back of his head as you lift your hips and cry out. You might not make those exaggerated pornstar moans, but yours are infinitely better. It’s better than anything he could have imagined. His name spills from your lips again, tired and quiet as you come down. There’s no need for you to tell him to stop or push him away this time. His softened lips are already crashing down against your mouth.

As you glide your tongue along his, the tang of your own juices fills your mouth. It doesn’t bother you. If anything it spurs you on to wrap your arms around his back and pull him closer. You tug on his shorts again. This time he raises no argument. He inhales a shaky breath as he goes in for another kiss and works the clothing down his legs until he’s steadying himself over you and clumsily struggling to kick them off.

You take his face in your hands while he gracelessly fights the fabric caught around his ankle and he smiles at you. Another jolt of electric butterflies pulse in your gut, frazzling your senses as they travel outward from their point of origin. By the time the sensation reaches your brain, it carries along the weight of your feelings. You reflect on how he cares for you, how he’s always cared for you. Navigating the key pleasure points mapped to your body is just one more way he can show it. You’re so incredibly lucky to have someone in your life so attentive and considerate of your needs. It makes you wonder how you meandered through life without a guiding light like Namjoon to lean on for support. Meditating on that thought threatens you with torrid tears.

“I love you,” you whisper.

Before he can respond with you draw him into a deep kiss, crossing your legs behind his waist to pull him closer. His shaft presses against your sensitive clit as he grinds himself down. While your body reacts with a twitch, you still roll your hips up to meet him. His bottom lip quivers and you suck it between your teeth, slowly drawing it away from him. When it snaps back to him he chases your mouth and presses you down into the pillows.

He follows the enticing motion of your hips with a loud groan. The slippery nature of your folds promises to make his entrance effortless. Each pass his cock makes over your cunt is another strike against his willpower, but god if it doesn’t feel amazing. It would be so easy to slip in, just a little bit, just enough to satisfy the aching need of the tip that inches closer and closer to your cunt. The way you lift it for him only serves as a greater invitation.

He rolls himself through your slick folds, floating on the high of the pleasure, encouraged by the moans you breathe into his mouth. He ruts into you, coasting into your entrance just enough to make him break the kiss with a whispered expletive. You whimper as he retreats and try to beckon him back with another gentle roll of your hips. He sighs, allowing himself to rock back into you enough to coat the tip of his dick with your warmth. Your cunt pulses against him, seeking to lure him further inside.

Again he surrenders to your salacious advance, sheathing the head of his cock in its entirety within your heat. You gasp and moan at the welcome intrusion, pulling on his hair as though it will move him closer than he already is.

“Please,” you whisper. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

Desperate to feel the stretch of his cock diving deep inside, you make your best attempt to raise your hips higher to take more of him in. He moans into your mouth, gently rocking himself further into your cunt and then slowly pulling back out.

Playing this game is dangerous. He knows that. But with each gasp and moan he pulls from you, the stakes rise. He tells himself he’s allowed to drive another moan from you with his teasing. Just one more time. One more sound. He tests his own resolve with each shallow thrust, never sinking deeper than before.

“Joonie,” you whine as he pulls back again. “Please. Stop teasing. I want your cock in me.”

His stomach does a somersault and it snaps him back to reality before his hips can snap forward instead. He leaves the comfort of your sweet cunt to lean over you and fish for the packet in the drawer of his nightstand. It should be right on top, but it’s not. Where the fuck is it?

The sticky wet head of his cock slips against your belly while he frantically rummages through the drawer. You shudder and reach down to take him in your palm, earning you a breathy curse in response. He spares a glance towards your mischievous eyes before looking down at the way you gather the moisture from the peak of his cock and pump it down to the base. His eyes roll back in delight for a moment and he drops onto the weight of his arm. The drawer rolls out farther than it should and promptly clatters off its track and onto the carpet below.

“I can fix that,” he announces.

“Are you okay?” You laugh, trying to sit up to help.

“Fine,” he murmurs, leading you back to the pillows with a kiss. “You just got me a little...”

His eyes wander to the nightstand. Perched on its surface are the remaining foil packets he’d been searching for in the drawer with its contents now spilled on the floor.

“Oh my god.” He sighs.

“Yes?” you press with a smile. “You good?”

“Mhm.”

He quickly snatches one up, fumbling it in his hands for a second before he recklessly rips it open. He leans back on his knees to roll the condom on, but about halfway down his shaft the rubber splits and snaps against his fingers. He vents a frustrated sound from his throat and scolds himself internally for being too excited, too eager. He wasted another one in his haste.

“I’m sorry,” he says in defeat. “Hold on.”

You’re already carefully opening the last packet while he rises to discard the bits of ruined rubber. “It’s okay. Come here. I got you.”

As he approaches the bed you reach out and begin to slowly roll the new condom down his shaft. He watches your hands roam over his cock with wonder. You seem much more confident now that he’s made a complete fool of himself for the millionth time today. Maybe you won’t think of him as so much of a saint now. He’s just as much of a mess as you are.

“You don’t have to worry so much,” you say with a slow pump of your hand over his cock. “I always have that five dollars, you know?”

It’s difficult to take your eyes off of the perfect shape of his dark cock. It’s veiny and thick in your palm, and long enough to make you wonder how it might feel hitting the back of your throat.  You manage to shift your gaze to his face and beam at him.

His worried expression melts into a dimpled smile. “Geeksquad saves the day again, huh.”

“Yeah. Pretty great, right? So, come here.” Despite feigned confidence, your jaw trembles with anxiety as you settle against the pillows once more. Nerves set your body alight with excited anticipation. “And put your cock in me.”

He slots himself between your thighs and cups your cheek, catching the subtle shiver of your body.

“Cold, baby?”

“Excited,” you admit, grazing your fingers over the expanse of his back until they’re nestled in the hair behind his neck. You kiss him.

It doesn’t matter how much time he’s had to recuperate. As soon as your lips are on his and he’s teasing himself into you, he knows he’s in trouble. You’re so tight. How is he supposed to last? Inch by slow inch you take him in, then out again. Your fingers twirl around strands of his hair until you’re sure it can’t be twisted any further.

“Oh fuck.”

Your jaw drops and you gasp a stuttered slew of nonsense as he bottoms out. He remains there, unmoving as your body adjusts to the stretch of his cock. Every executable file in your brain stops working as you lie beneath him with your mouth agape, eyes wide, and fingers tangled in his hair.

“Need a minute?” he asks, peppering kisses along your bottom lip and lightly working it between his teeth.

Finally you find the command in your brain to resume all processes. You moan into his kiss and purposefully clench around him.  “Do you?”

“Evil,” he murmurs as he begins setting a slow, steady pace with his hips. “Goddamn, you’re tight.”

You throw your head back in ecstasy, exposing your neck for his mouth to latch onto. Your hands explore the muscles of his back, digging into the sculpted flesh with your nails. He grunts against you, sucking a mark into the crook of your neck to muffle the sound. Taking time to follow the creases dividing the defined muscles of his triceps, your palms drift further down to curl around the pillars of his forearms. Without disrupting his pace, he reaches up to lace his fingers with yours.

The back of your palms press into the soft pillows beside your head. You’re connected as deeply and as literally as two people can be and still you crave more. When you moan his name into the open air he trails a line of sloppy open-mouthed kisses to meet your lips. You meet each slow thrust with a roll of your hips and a desperate need to keep him inside of you forever. Frenzied panting fills the space between you as you break the kiss.

Dark eyes full of adoration peer down at you, focused on the way the force of his accelerated thrusts shake every part of your body but leaves your gaze untouched. It’s insane just how much he cares for you. By now you must be sick of hearing his declarations of love, but he wants to say it all the same. He wishes he could make you cum for him like this. He would do anything to make you cum a second time before he does. Maybe with more practice he’ll learn your body well enough to make it happen. For now he’ll settle for making you feel good. You’re enjoying yourself at the very least.

A smile spreads across your face and a sweet laugh slips out. “What?”

“What?” he echoes, lost in the sight of you beneath him like this.

It’s like his head goes empty when you laugh like that, when you look at him like you’re shy and infatuated at the same time.

“Looks like you wanna say something.”

The serious expression plastered on his features matches the intensity of his whisper, “Yeah. Maybe I do. You wanna know what it is?”

Every muscle in your cunt contracts around him. He purses his lips, takes a slow breath through his nose and relaxes his pace.

He leans next to your ear and whispers in a quiet tone, “You’re just so fucking sexy.”

You’re so flattered that all the embarrassment resting on the tip of your tongue dissipates the moment you open your mouth. Flustered words form and then decompose the moment they’re to be spoken into existence. All that comes out is a broken sound of uncertainty.

It’s like the lights dance in his eyes as he takes a moment to straighten up and regard your features. His lips press against your forehead, then your nose and he pauses over your lips.

“I love you.”

The words fall from your mouth easier than ever. “I love you too.”

He kisses you like it’s the first time: passionate, desperate, and needy. You break off to rest your forehead against his.

“So are you gonna cum inside me or what?” You can barely conceal the smile that breaks through your pursed lips.

“Wow. So am I just a piece of meat to you, Geeksquad?” he jokes.

“I mean… Protein right?” You make a ‘yikes’ face at him and start to laugh.

He shakes his head but he’s grinning like a fool. “Well if it’s what you want…”

Just like that he calls your half-bluff. He ducks his face into the crook of your neck and begins to suck another mark over the fading mark from his earlier endeavors. Your laughter quickly turns into a string of moans as he resumes the previous tempo of his thrusts. A surge of adrenalin flips your stomach on itself and excitement pulses through your body at the thought of his cum slowly dripping out of your cunt.

“I do.”

You squeeze his hands and shimmy him away from your neck so you can sink your teeth into his shoulder to hide the shame of your desire. A broken moan rattles its way up his throat as he entertains the fantasy you’ve conjured in his mind.

“You want me to fill you, hmm?” he whispers in a breathy tone between shallow breaths.

There’s no doubt in your mind that he feels the way your cunt tenses at his words to offer a wordless answer, but you also offer a muffled hum of affirmation.

“You want me to fuck my cum into you just like this, baby?” His words are followed by the sound of his balls slapping against your ass at a new feverish pace.

“Yes,” you whimper and bring your lips to his, high off the sensation of his dick plowing into you.

“Gonna take it all for me?”

“Mhm. Cum for me,” you plead between sloppy kisses. “Cum inside me.”

“Oh shit, baby,” he gasps.

You don’t get another opportunity to coax him into letting go because he’s already slamming his hips into you and crushing his mouth over yours. He’s buried deep inside of you when his hips still but you wiggle beneath him and purposefully clench to give him the tiniest overdose of pleasure. He sighs as he leans back, finally releasing his death grip on your sweaty palms.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, planting a kiss on your forehead.

“You’re sweet,” you murmur, running a hand through his sweaty hair. “Good lay too.”

He rolls his eyes but smiles nonetheless. “Likewise.”

When he pulls out to rise and dispose of the condom you already miss his shape, but the unmistakable ache starts to set in: the ache of a pussy pounded too well after a long hiatus. You clamp your legs together and roll onto your side to expose the skin of your sweaty back to the cold air of the room, closing your eyes as you listen to the patter of raindrops against the window.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Mmm.” You don’t bother opening your eyes. “I seriously need another shower. Sorry about your bed.”

He kneels on the floor next to the edge of the bed and carefully moves the hair from your face. “You can soak my sheets any time.”

“Hmm. I’ll keep that in mind. Sounds gross though. Definitely don’t wanna lay in the puddle behind me.”

“Tired?”

“Yeah.”

“You gonna sleep right there?”

“No.”

You’re such a liar.

He lets a few seconds of silence pass before he speaks again. “How about shower and movie?”

You peek at him from beneath one eyelid. “What movie?”

“Thinking The Kick, unless you have something else in mind.”

“No, that’s— Wait, what time do we have to be at Tae’s?”

Namjoon’s eyes widen and he rubs the back of his neck. “Later… Uh, about that. Are we— I mean on one hand I don’t wanna make a big deal about it but…”

You bolt upright. “Oh no. They’re gonna make such a thing out of it. Nevermind. I’m never seeing them again.”

“It won’t be that bad.”

“Won’t it? Oh my god, if I show up in your clothes…”

“Geeksquad.” He grabs your face.

“Joonie.”  

You reciprocate the action and squish his cheeks towards the center of his face, causing his lips to pucker. He quickly takes your hands into his own.

“Hey. Look at me,” he pauses to make sure you meet his eyes before he continues. “You’re fine. Stay. We’ll figure it out when we get there and we’ll do it together.”

“Okay,” you breathe a sigh of relief. “Okay.”

“Be my ride?” He flashes you his wide dimpled smile.

“Only if you’re mine later.” You wink and draw him into a chaste kiss.

───── ⋆⋅☆·⋆ ─────

"Geeksquad."

His voice sounds distant and soft while reminding you you’re home. In this moment, you’re safe, you’re warm, and you’re loved. It’s too comforting to move away right now, too comforting to bring your eyes to open, so you cling to the heat of his body.

“Hey,” he tries again, gently nudging your shoulder. “Geeksquad, wake up.”

You make sure that your distaste is apparent with a loud grumble. You nuzzle against his chest with your cheek and hum like it will drown him out. He laughs softly as the sound fades away. He briefly lets silence fill the space, which allots you the precious seconds needed to hit the imaginary snooze button and doze off again. It seems he isn't having it when he lets out a loud sigh.

“You missed the end and it’s already five,” he tries to reason. “Weren’t you the one who told me not to let you sleep too long? Unless…” He carefully snakes his fingertips down to your side, hoping to remain undetected. “...You changed your mind about going home to get all cute because you finally realize you are cute, you know, without trying."

You groan against his chest and that seems to be enough to keep him quiet. Just as he feels your head begin to drop down he starts talking loudly.

"Oh, I see. You just really wanna be out flaunting how good you look wearing my clothes. That’s it, right?"

You lightly smack your hand against his chest but don’t allow yourself to let your guard down until you’re certain he's given up.

"That must be it," he continues. "Not you... Being a pain in the ass to wake up. At all.”

With your head pressed against his chest, you find it difficult to drift back off with every loud word dropping from his mouth and vibrating straight into your eardrum. Still you rock your forehead against him and try to ignore his booming voice. When his fingers dig into your side to tickle you, your body jolts up straight and you can’t help but laugh.

“Wow. She speaks,” he jokes. “...Kinda.”

You wiggle against his grip, thrusting your chest up while dipping your head back. You attempt to scold him with his name between a fit of giggles. “Stop,” you wheeze.

“But I love the way you laugh.” His fingers relax despite his words. He leans in to press his lips to your perfectly exposed neck.

Your breathless laughter quickly transforms into a subtle slew of whimpers. He swathes his tongue across a particularly sensitive spot and your breath hitches. You grab his arm and pull down like you want him to crush you like a bug. He doesn’t. Instead he smirks against your neck when he feels your nails dig into his bicep.

“Joonie…” you whine.

He offers his inquiry in the form of a hum that radiates vibrations from the point of contact with your skin.

You’re embarrassed to admit the million things you want to ask him to do right now in place of complaining about his teasing. “Come closer.”

“Closer how?” he murmurs before kissing that spot again.

You take the hand at your side and slip it beneath the worn fabric of your shirt. You don’t have to lead him very far until he’s molding the flesh of your breast with his hand and you’re panting shallow breaths into the air around you. The sweet kiss at your neck turns into a sinful demonstration. The things he could do to you, for you. Do you truly know?

You know you never want him to leave. The heat from his mouth seems to sear a path of lava straight to your core. Your fingers glide through his hair and settle at his jaw. It takes all of your self control to gently push him away from that delightful spot he’s found so that you can plant a soft kiss against his jaw.

You draw out a groan as you pull away. “Maybe we should just cancel.”

“Mmm, don’t tempt me. You know I will,” he murmurs, chasing after your lips.

You lean back just a bit further, a grin plastered on your face as you allow him to press his mouth against yours just one more time.

───── ⋆⋅☆·⋆ ─────

The rain has been reduced to a light patter against your windshield now. You’re grateful that visibility is decent as you pull up to the familiar curb in front of Namjoon’s building. Already waiting just within the building’s entrance, he sprints out at the sight of your headlights. He eagerly hops into the passenger seat and you do your best not to look over at him. Suddenly, you’re nervous. Have your palms ever secreted this much sweat in your life? Still you keep your hands planted on the steering wheel, staring ahead like you’re playing the role of a first-time chauffeur.

Sensing a lingering apprehension, he clears his throat as his seatbelt clicks into place. “Everything okay?”

Keeping the car in park, you allow yourself to look over at him. He smells good. He looks incredible, even in a simple black tee and jeans. And he’s looking at you like all he wants to do is kiss your lips for the millionth time today. It’s like you can feel the anxiety melt from your face.

“I’m nervous,” you admit, shaking out your hands as though that will clear the sweat from them.  “I don’t know why I’m so nervous.”

Your sheepish laugh causes him to reach out for your sweaty palm. To your surprise his hand is just as hot and moist as yours. Regardless of how uncomfortable it is, he holds on tight and laces his fingers between yours.

“It’s okay. Me too.”

The pair of you stare at each other for a few seconds in silence, just smiling and trying to think of what you were going to say before promptly getting lost in one another’s eyes. How is it you’ve never noticed the softness in his features when he looks at you like this? It still feels kind of surreal. But your heart skips a beat and you allow yourself to acknowledge the way heat radiates from your cheeks. You want to kiss him, to reassure him you’re not going to waffle on him again, but you’re too entranced by the infatuation smeared across every aspect of his face.

When you finally speak, he starts at the same time and you both have to pause and laugh. Silence falls between you, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s charged. It’s shy. It’s excited. He bites his lip and drags it through his teeth as his eyes rake over any part of you they can.

“You look beautiful.”

You lick your lips and your smile grows larger in response. “I- Thank you. I’m. We-- I mean, you look…” A nervous laugh slips into the breath between your words. “Hi.”

He leans across the armrest and plants a soft kiss against your lips. The moment you reciprocate his tongue dips into your mouth and glides against yours. It takes all of your willpower to keep the car running instead of plucking the keys out and dragging him back into his apartment to fuck him stupid. Still you rely on him to break the kiss.

“Hi,” he whispers, dragging a thumb across your cheek as he cups your jaw. “Still nervous?”

You nod. “My stomach hurts.”

“Hey, they’re our friends. It’ll be okay.”

“I know. You’re right.” You sit back against your seat and stare blankly out the foggy windshield. “I haven’t answered Jennie all day. She’s asking and I… I don’t want to answer.”

His heart sinks. It sounds like you want to keep things a secret, even though he knows you’re a terrible liar. No wonder you’re so nervous. It’s the last thing he wants to do, but if you asked he would attempt to cover for the both of you. He sincerely hopes you don’t ask.

“It’s just… I don’t want it to be a text. I mean, do we go in holding hands?” you ask, instantly allaying his fears. “Do we just announce it?”

He breathes a sigh of relief. “Geeksquad, come on. Pretend like nothing’s changed. Things are basically the same right?”

You nod, but your expression casts uncertainty over the action. “Right, right. We can just say it like that, right? I mean, we still work at the same place. We still like to hang out together. Watch movies,It’s just a little more… intimate. You know, the kind of time you spend with someone that you care about and like… make out and have bomb sex and—”

“I’ll tell them we’re together,” he interrupts. “You’re my girlfriend. You signed the love contract.”

“Okay but you’re not going to tell them about the contract right?”

“Mmm. Maybe. Didn’t see anything about it in the terms and conditions.” He laughs.

“Uh, the fine print says you’re sworn to secrecy of its existence. You know, like fight club.”

“Must have missed that. Didn’t have my glasses on, you know?”

“Oh, here.” The lightbulb in your head flickers on. You rummage through the compartment beneath the armrest, presenting Namjoon with the glasses you’d been meaning to return for some time now. “Maybe these will help. You left them at my place.”

“Shit. I thought I lost those.” He sighs, taking them from you. “Wish I hadn’t ordered another pair.”

“Sorry, I kept forgetting to give them to you,” you admit.

He smiles. “Did you forget, or were you pining over me? Be real with me, Geeksquad.”

You roll your eyes. “Okay. I’m gonna start driving before I push you out of this car.”

“Sniffing them because they remind you of me?” he teases.

“Yeah. They smell like avocados.” You laugh as you turn your attention to the road. “You’re lucky hipster glasses are in.”

“Alright, baby.”

He hums in amusement, sparing a glance out the window beside him. It seems like the barrage of rainy days may be coming to an end soon. At least he hopes so. There’s not much he wouldn’t give to take you to his favorite hiking spots, have a picnic with you under clear blue skies, or lay on a sandy beach with you by his side.

“You keep calling me baby,” you point out quietly, pulling him from his reverie.

“Wha— I’m sorry. It was heat of the moment and it felt really natural when we were fucking you know? But if it’s weird now, I-I can stop. I’ll stick with tried and true Geeksquad.” He stumbles through his embarrassment in true Namjoon fashion.

“No, I like it. I just wanted to tell you it... makes me feel good. Way better than Geeksquad.”

“Yeah, you are.”

You smirk and reach for his hand and he gives you a tight squeeze, driving the rest of the way in a comfortable silence. Holding his hand is enough to keep you distracted from all the noise in your head.

───── ⋆⋅☆·⋆ ─────

Knock-knockknock—-knock-knock.

The answer to your knock is the resounding pound of Hobi’s fist through the barrier of the door.

KNOCK-KNOCK.

The door swings open and Hoseok’s smiling face greets you. Namjoon’s hand falls from around your shoulder on instinct. Although Hoseok’s eyes briefly drop to Namjoon’s twitching fingers he draws no further attention to the reaction, stepping aside and gesturing for the pair of you to enter. Seokjin’s incoherent shouting carries from the other room, nearly drowning out your greetings.

“It’s about time.” Hoseok tips a bottle to his lips and the majority of the liquid sloshes back down as he makes a face and runs to shove it against Yoongi’s shoulder. “Yuck.”

Yoongi takes a hearty swig without so much as a glance away from the kitchen. The unmistakable bounce of a ping pong ball springs from the unseen room and you lean back to attempt to see around the blockade Yoongi and Hoseok’s bodies have created between you and whatever is happening in there.

“They started playing while we were waiting for you. Should be done soon,” Hobi says, walking back towards you. “Jimin and Tae put up a good fight but Jungkookie is too good.”

“You didn’t have to wait. We could have met you there,” Namjoon says, rubbing the back of his neck and stealing a sideways glance at you.

Hoseok raises an eyebrow and smirks, his eyes following Namjoon’s to you. His bony finger pokes your spine and you instantly tense and straighten your posture.

“I think we all wanted to wait.”

He knows. Even as you spin towards him you feel it. Despite the words left unspoken, somehow he already knows.

Yup. It’s time. Just get it over with. Easier thought than done.

“Why?” you blurt.

“Well...” Hoseok begins, ghosting his fingers over your shoulder as he walks towards the couch to put his shoes on. “We wanted to see you guys. Had a feeling we might not see too much of you as the night goes on. Figured you might want some,” he pauses to finish knotting his shoelace, grinning at you as he stands, “hmm, alone time?”

“I— Pssfht. What?” The unexpected shrillness of your voice cuts through the space between you. You clear your throat and do your best to dampen your anxiety. “I mean, like, why would we—? We’re—We, uh, whew… Is it hot in here?”

Words are no good right now. Anything else you say will just be another unnecessary embarrassment to endure. Your heartbeat resides in your ears as your flight response kicks in. Namjoon must hear it too because drapes his arm around your shoulder and pulls you towards the comforting mass of his chest.

Your fingers fidget with your keys even though you know you won’t need them tonight. You consider tossing them in the bowl Tae keeps on the counter, but that would require walking past the rest of your friends and abandoning Namjoon. You agreed you would face them together.

Namjoon smiles softly and gives your arm a reassuring squeeze. “We’re good, man.”

“Are you?” The look on Hoseok’s face tells you he’s hoping you’ll expand on Namjoon’s short answer. “How are you doing, Y/N? Has that douche tried to contact you?”

You almost forgot about Jihoon. It seems like such a distant memory now. The sting of his words echo in the darkest corner of your mind, but not for long. A smile forces those thoughts to scatter as you look to Namjoon for support. You take a breath and exhale a relieved sigh.

“Nope. He’s gone for good, I think.” You reach for Namjoon’s hand, using the courage his touch instills to fuel your confession. “If he comes back around I’m sure my boyfriend will try to kick his ass.”

“Wait. It’s finally happening?” Hoseok’s eyes go wide and he springs from the couch in an instant to poke his fingers against your sides. He didn’t expect to be totally correct in his assumptions, but he hoped for it. “For really real?”

You said it first. Out loud. Namjoon’s stomach churns in excitement as he looks at you. You’re grinning like a dork and nodding even though he knows you’re embarrassed as hell. Yeah. He’s pretty sure he’s never been more in love with your goofy ass smile. Hoseok covers your entwined fingers with both of his hands and practically drags you both towards the kitchen.

“Guys, guys! It’s official!”

The ball leaves Jungkook’s fingertips, launches across the table and circles the rim of the final cup as his opponents turn away. The room goes quiet, save for the airy spin of the ball slowly decelerating into the contents of the cup. Namjoon adjusts his glasses and you swallow hard under the burning spotlight of your friends’ eyes.

“Drumroll, please!” Hoseok demands with a smile, rolling his tongue to begin the buildup. “Bdrdrdrrdrdrdrdrdrdrdrdrdr--”

Yoongi presses his lips together to hold back a smile and begins drumming his fingers on the wall beside him. Not willing to be outdone, Seokjin and Jungkook join in, pounding their fists on the table, followed by the light tap of Jimin’s hands against his thighs, and the smack of Taehyung’s palms against his face.

“I present to you the moment we’ve all been waiting for…” Hoseok ducks behind the pair of you and lifts your arms like you’ve just tied for victory in a boxing match. “Joonsquad!”

The inflection at the end of his tone makes you cringe almost as hard as the nickname.

“Nope. No. We’re not calling it that.”

“Joonsquad? Really?”

The combined cheers from your friends drown out your objections.

Jimin’s arms are the first to wrap you both into a tight bear hug. “I’m so happy for you both.”

The statement seems genuine, but you’re flooded with the embarrassing memory of drunkenly slobbering over his face. Namjoon had always reminded you that Jimin was used to keeping things casual but still you find yourself ashamed for going there. Harmless flirting and games of chicken ruled your friendship with Jimin for so long. You used to fantasize about his lips exploring your body, but it seems so preposterous now. You’re not sure when it happened, but things changed.

Despite your mind’s acknowledgement of his beauty there is no worry accompanying it, no butterflies wreaking havoc on your senses. Your simple crush has faded into surface appreciation. It seems easy to recognize that now that you’ve stopped trying to push down the feelings you have for your best friend. Any lingering affections you bear resemble nothing more than a strengthened friendship, much like the one you’ve shared with Jennie for years.

Even with all the back slaps and fistbumps, Namjoon’s eyes are trained on you in a smitten stupor. Embarrassment does nothing to steal the light in your eyes or the joy in your laugh. All of the congratulations in the world can’t reach his ears when you’re looking at him like that.

“I knew it!” Jennie comes running from around the corner, pushing past all the men in her path to throw her arms around you. “No wonder you’ve been dodging my texts. I wanna know everything.” She attempts a whisper, but softness doesn’t translate through the liquor already clouding her voice. “In detail.”

Namjoon clears his throat loudly to combat the redness spreading along his ears. “Where are we headed? Seesaw?”

Everyone looks at one another like they hadn’t really thought about it.

“Sure. Your first drink is on me.” Yoongi throws an arm around Namjoon.

Hoseok weaves his arm beneath Yoongi’s from Namjoon’s other side, beginning to walk them towards the door. “It’s a dancing night, don’t you think?”

“How about we hit up the strip club after?” Jungkook suggests, already tugging his sneakers on and stumbling towards the door.

Seokjin rolls his eyes and claps a hand around the youngest’s neck. “Do you really want to break up a couple so soon?”

“What? They can look together, right? Wings doesn’t discriminate. It’s like a bonding thing. You don’t mind, do you, Y/N?”

“Don’t worry, Y/N. We’re not going there.” Seokjin turns back to Jungkook to whisper, “Not every celebration needs to be at a strip club.”

“I’ll remember that on your birthday,” Jungkook mutters, already on his way out the door.

The others begin to follow suit but before you can get too far, Taehyung latches onto your elbow. “Keys.”

“Right.” You produce a tangled mess of keychains and keys. Namjoon hangs back to wait with you, leaning against the doorframe as Tae disappears.

“You’re always welcome to stay here,” Tae offers as your keys clang against the others in the bowl.

Namjoon chews on his lip and looks to you. As long as you’ll lay next to him he doesn’t care where he sleeps tonight.

“Depends how drunk we get,” you reply with a smile, lacing your fingers with Namjoon’s to lead him out of the apartment. “Thanks, Tae.”

He grins and pats Namjoon’s shoulder after locking the door. “Don’t worry, Jungkook washed all the sheets yesterday.”

You flip up the hood of your sweater and tighten the strings to cover your face. You’re definitely not coming back here tonight.

───── ⋆⋅☆·⋆ ─────

You’ve done your best to balance your attention between your friends throughout the night, sharing food, drinking and laughing together. But as the night continues you feel your energy draining with each attempt to remain social and engaged in conversation. You’re grateful when Namjoon steers the conversation away from you, leading most of the table towards the bar to collect more drinks for everyone. Only Hoseok and Yoongi are left to hold down the table with you. You’re pretty sure Namjoon is counting on the majority of the group getting distracted and splitting off. At least you’re hoping that’s what he’s playing at because you’d really like to get away from all the questions and stories.

When you yawn Yoongi nudges your elbow out from under you, forcing you to catch yourself before your chin slams against the table.

“Tired?” he asks with a smirk, eyes focused elsewhere.

“Mmm,” you agree with a nod. “I guess I should get up before they come back or I’ll be stuck here forever, huh?”

“You know, you’re not being rude if you want to head out. You don’t have to stay and prove anything. We’ve all been rooting for you to get together. If you wanna slip away for some privacy, you should.”

It’s funny how well your friends know you. You can’t even remember what life was like before they came along.

“A break from questions would be nice,” you admit with a stretch of your arms.

Hoseok, who’s been nursing the same drink all night, brings the glass to his lips and gulps down a rather large sip and scrunches his features together. “Blegh. Ooooor you can come dance with me.” He wiggles his eyebrows for good measure.

You stare him down, tonguing the straw to your tequila sunrise and trying to steal the last sip of the drink from the ice that remains in your glass. Is he trying to fuck with you?

“Don’t worry, I’ll be good.” He laughs, offering you his hand. “Namjoonie’s not much of a dancer, but I think he’d be willing to learn from you more than me. Think I can teach you something to show him before he gets back?”

“Hobi, I know how to dance,” you say with a laugh, although you’re already taking his hand.

“Mmm, do you though?” Hoseok flitters his free hand back and forth. “Ehhhh.”

With a roll of your eyes, you spare Yoongi a glance. “You coming?”

Yoongi leans back in his seat with a shake of his head. He casually pops a fry into his mouth.“Go on. I’ll send Namjoon your way so Hobi will keep his hands above your waist.”

“That’s just rude,” Hoseok scoffs, pulling you towards the dance floor.

He’s true to his word, dancing as respectably as someone with hips like Hoseok can. He guides your hips with his hands as he sways behind you.

“You’re perfect for him,” he says.

“What?” Your rhythm falters and you lose your sense of balance, stepping on his foot as you try to keep yourself from falling. “Sorry.”

He laughs, tickling your sides. “See? That’s what I mean. Took you dummies long enough to realize it.”

“It’s my fault. I was too scared and stupid to see what was right in front of me this entire time.” You sigh and lean back, surprised to find his chest a decent distance away. “I still think he’s too good for me.”

“Oh, pffft. Stop it,” Hoseok chides in your ear.

“I hope— Ugh, nevermind.”

“What?”

A small chuckle escapes with a held breath. “It’s dumb.”

“So?”

“I just— I hope my love is good enough for him.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that.”

His hands hug around your stomach and push you closer to him, but the way they subtly tremble as they descend to rest on your hips feels different. When Hoseok steps around and hands still clasp you from behind, your heart soars. If not for the familiarity of the stiff chest at your back and the loving embrace enveloping your form, you might be nervous.

Namjoon’s lips caress your ear as he whispers, “You know it is.”

Even your best attempt to hide your embarrassed smile would fail, so it’s a good thing you’re not even trying. Hoseok wears a satisfied grin as he watches you turn towards Namjoon for a shy kiss. He thinks about leaving you with dancing advice, but instead he decides to slink away wordlessly. There isn’t anything he could say right now that the two of you would hear, not when you’re in a world of your own like this.

It’s easy to lose track of time as you grind against him, teasing him with every swaying motion of your hips. Every sigh against your ear spurs you on to press him further. Even with all the layers between you, the hard length grinding against your ass is ever-present and obvious enough to make you want to bend over so he can take you right here.

Instead you dance and feel his body move against yours until exhaustion starts to set in. Tae and Jennie are already waiting for a ride by the time you step outside. Your cheeks ache from smiling so much and every muscle in your face is too tired to speak. She looks just as tired as you but she gives you a small greeting.

It’s funny how you don’t find anything odd about the way she leans into Tae as they sit near one another, or the way Tae is absentmindedly stroking her hair. You feel like it should be odd, but the world is so far away that you can’t hold the details in your brain long enough to make a connection. Between the haze of alcohol and sleep, you’re too far gone to think too much about it.

Namjoon keeps his arm around you as he talks to Tae, but you don’t catch much of their conversation. Sleep threatens to take you where you stand. You count yourself lucky that Namjoon cares for you so well. You close your eyes to rest for a moment, but when you open them again he’s unbuckling your seatbelt and helping you out of the lyft. You shuffle past the threshold of Tae’s home.

Namjoon leads you down the hall to the guest room and pulls on the dangling chain on the lamp  near the bed. A soft yellow glow fills the room as you start to sleepily yank the clothing from your body. Namjoon quickly goes for the open door, but Tae is already in the doorway averting his gaze with one hand and holding a small quilt in the other.

“Thanks. She, uh, gets really cold,” Namjoon says, blocking your body with his frame as you bend at the waist to untie the shoes you now realize are blocking your pants from sliding over your feet.

“Sorry. Let me know if you need anything else,” Tae mumbles, clearly embarrassed. “Goodnight.”

“Night,” Namjoon murmurs back, clutching the quilt as he softly closes the door and turns to you. “Baby.”

“Hmm.”

Your foot is stuck in your shoe but you can’t get your foot out because your shoe is stuck in your jeans. This is a conundrum.

“Baby, you’re gonna fall. Sit down. I’ll help you.”

“I can do it,” you mumble, plopping down on the edge of the bed.

“I know,” he says, already on his knees before you.

He frees your legs and gives you a kiss as he helps you wiggle below the bedspread, setting the quilt on top of your side.

“It’s hot,” you mumble.

“I know.”

“Too hot for blankets.”

“I know. How about the sheet?” he asks, rolling everything back except for the topsheet. He knows you. You’ll want them again soon enough.

“Mm. Come here.” You reach your grabby hands out for him as he flicks the light off.

“I’m coming.” He laughs and slides beside you. “So needy.”

Although you know he can’t see you pout, he pulls you toward his chest anyway and it turns into a smirk against his warm skin.

“It’s ‘cause I needy--you” you slur with a giggle, planting your lips against his chest in a drawn out kiss.

“You’re a hot mess and I love you,” he says, shaking his head.

“Love you, too.”

It’s clear you’re already falling asleep but he gently strokes your arm until the world around you begins to cool and fall away. When you roll away with a shiver, he carefully secures your body in a cocoon of blankets and drapes his arm and leg over you. Not even overheating could keep him from your touch. A wave of calm overtakes him.

This time he knows: this is love.

───── ⋆⋅☆·⋆ ─────

Months into your relationship,you’ve have prepared for the end of the semester by planning a little vacation for just the two of you. Namjoon struggles to get through his last day of work, daydreaming about staying at Tae’s summer home and laying on the beach with you. His favorite hiking spot isn’t too far from there and he’s been dying to take you and show you the clearing of wildflowers he loves so much. Hopefully they’ve bloomed beautifully.

He yawns and stretches out, flipping the binder on his desk. It’s been a long day, commemorating the end of a long week. He’s exhausted, but he’s graded every last paper and is in good shape to submit final scores by the deadline. His phone buzzes against the dark wood in the only spot bereft of errant papers. He flips the screen around, finally allowing himself to check the time and give in to distractions.

You: Still working bae

He smiles, thumb gliding over the screen effortlessly while attempting to organize the mess on his desk.

Namjoon: Just finishing up. You: 😏 You: can I You: come before you finish You: it’s only fair

He halts his efforts to stare at his phone.

Namjoon: … You: yes?? Namjoon: 🤦‍♂️ You: what? I’m serious You: 😈😈😈 Namjoon: You on campus? You: I mean... You: who else is gonna be your ride 😘

He shakes his head, smile growing wider as he glances up at the monitor before him. He definitely doesn’t miss running to catch the last bus on late nights. He’s nearly done logging final comments. He’ll be done sooner than you can get here, but this might be as good a time as any to make the reveal.

Namjoon hits the icon to call you, swooning at the familiar image of you stealing his drink. He straightens his glasses and types away at the keyboard while trapping the phone between his ear and shoulder. It doesn’t ring for very long.

“Joonie?”

“Hey, I gotta upload these grades but I’m having trouble.”

You sigh. The last thing you want to do tonight is work, especially not with what you had planned. “What kind of trouble?”

Even as he types away on the keyboard, his mind searches for a term, some kind of red alert to get you off the phone and into his office so he can tell you in person.

“Uh… blue screen.”

“Blue screen of death?” You rub your temple. “What does it say?”

“Uh,” he swallows, pausing to proofread the comment along with the grade he’s about to submit. “It just restarted.”

“On its own?”

Submit.

“Yeah.”

“Is this the first time it’s doing this?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, see if it starts up okay. We can always come back before we go on vacation.”

“Baby, I really want to get these done tonight. I was so close to being done so we can start tonight.”

You sigh heavily and check your makeup in the rearview mirror. “Is it starting up?”

“No, it’s beeping.”

Even straining your ears doesn’t help you pick up on the sound.  “Are you sure?”

“Can you come here? Please?”

Your heart melts. “I’ll be right there.”

You turn the car off and grab one of Namjoon’s oversized hoodies from the backseat. You slip it over your skimpy outfit and carefully make your way to the library, tugging on the hem like it will somehow magically cover all the exposed flesh down to your knees. No such luck. Regardless of how many times you’ve practiced wearing these awful heels, it’s not like you expected to be walking up several flights of stairs in them.

There’s no security guard at the station across the quad. You don’t know if you should feel as happy as you do about that. Despite the voice in the back of your head telling you to get in your car and demand an escort to his office, embarrassment outweighs any fear for safety and you push on. Only a familiar yellow cardigan draped over a chair greets you at the receptionist’s desk, its occupant long gone for the night.

Adrenaline pumps through your veins as you climb the stairs, passing stack after stack of dimly lit bookshelves until you’re standing outside of the only office still illuminated. Thankfully the door is propped open and you power walk as fast as you can towards it. The faster you can fix it, the faster you can head home and celebrate the end of the semester the way you originally planned.

He nearly tips the chair as he stands. It hits the back wall of his office with a graceless bang. “Y/N? Are those heels? Did you drive here in those?”

It’s difficult to keep your lips as they are when he adorns that expression, features battling between where they might settle: aroused or awestruck. You’d rather not screw up the perfect lipstick application you worked so hard to achieve— not yet at least. The plan is to be on your knees when that happens.

“You look—” he pauses as his traveling eyes try to glean any information they can. His voice lowers to a whisper and he quickly attempts to sate his curiosity with a wandering hand up your thigh. “Are-Are you not wearing anything under there?”

Before you can answer his fingers find the pleated fabric hidden beneath the hoodie and a new, eager question fumbles from his lips. “What are... you wearing?”

As much as you’d like for him to keep exploring, you muster enough willpower to smack his hands away. It’s only fair that he has to wait while you work.

“Computer first. You said it was beeping. Did it ever start back up?”

He swallows hard as you round the desk and start troubleshooting. It’s hard to think when all the blood in his brain is quickly evacuating in favor of inhabiting a far less intelligent location. He’s supposed to say something. He knows that much. But you look so beautiful he forgets how to say it. Your brows furrow in frustration and you sigh his name.

You’ve done your makeup, your hair is down for the first time in a long time, and you even put on a cute outfit as far as he can gather. But here you are in his hoodie, donning a pair of blue-light blocking glasses, rolling up the baggy sleeves, and tying your hair into a tight ponytail as you start to go into full on geeksquad mode. Even with your hunched shoulders and irritated tongue clicking, you’re trying to help him, still beautiful in the way he loves.

Underneath all that skin-deep beauty that fades with time, within the wrinkles that have already begun to crease the edges of your eyes and the corners of your mouth, you shine. You shine brighter than any star he’s ever seen. Months of reflecting your light haven’t been enough to show you the true glow of your soul, but he’s confident that one day you’ll see it.

He’s pulled back to reality as your scowl settles on him. Repeatedly pressing the power button with your finger won’t change the fact that he’s purposefully unplugged it, a fact it seems you’ve come to realize when you reach for the VGA cable and there’s nothing there.

A charming, dimpled smile graces his features and he picks up the monitor with ease. “I, uh, think maybe something fell off before you got here.”

“There’s nothing wrong with your computer, is there?” You lean back in the chair and sigh as he stands there like a fool on the opposite side of the desk, cradling his LCD screen like a bouquet.

“No,” he says sheepishly. He gently lowers the monitor to the floor and sighs. “I planned on presenting this better, but you distracted me. There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about for a while now.”

Your stomach is spinning and you take in a deep breath. Oh fuck. Is he really going to break up with you? No, he can’t be. He wouldn’t be smiling about that. Would he?

“Nothing bad,” he quickly adds, circling behind the desk and your chair in one large stride. His thumbs dive into the fabric of your hoodie to rub circles into your shoulders.  “At least I don’t think you’ll think it’s bad…” Terror strikes at his belly and he adds, “Unless you do...”

“Joon. Please. You’re stressing me out. Whatever it is, just tell me.”

He spins the chair around and squats down onto one knee. He straightens his tie and reaches for your hand, sending your stomach on another rollercoaster ride, only this one is running in the complete opposite direction and you’re equally as unprepared. You’re not really a marriage kind of person. Well, maybe you are, but you’re not sure. It’s too soon to know! You’re more of a limbless amoeba at this point, stuffed into heels and floating with the other protozoa in the petri dish of the universe, unthinking, just existing.

The world stops as he reaches into his coat pocket and you find yourself too petrified to speak. You close your eyes and slump into the chair like you’ve become a being comprised solely of pudding. Your skirt rides up as you sink and your panties shrink into the world’s thinnest thong. Have you ever held a breath for this long? Maybe you’ll melt through the mesh seat and evaporate into the cheap carpet below. It takes him too long to realize his latest mistake.

It was probably the pudding hand that tipped him off.

“Oh. Shit. Okay. No, look at me. I’m not—” He laughs and sets something in your palm, closing your fingers around it and holding them there. “Look.”

You finally settle on the floor before him and squeeze the item in your palm. It feels unremarkable, like a basic wire or plastic cap. The most remarkable part about it is that it is definitely not a ring.

Relief washes over you with the breath you exhale. “Joon. You’re killing me. Please.”

“Here’s the thing.”

He releases your hand so you can look at this unremarkable thing that has caused you so much panic. It’s the plastic head of a CAT5 plug, pins and all. You tilt your head to one side and inspect it with childlike curiosity and bewilderment.

“I’m not that bad with computers. I mean, I’m not like you-level, but I’m not as bad as you think.”

Things begin to click into place. This isn’t just any ethernet plug. It’s the first one, the one you couldn’t fathom disappearing like it did, leaving a mess of wires in its wake. Namjoon just seemed so clueless that you naturally blamed drunken students vandalizing campus property for shits and giggles. It never crossed your mind that the sweet, quiet professor could have staged the whole thing.

“Before I knew you, I wanted to know you. But I felt like I needed an excuse to talk to you so I…” He reaches into his pocket and adds various bits of broken plastic and screws to your cupped hand. “...did this.”

You blink stupidly at the pile in your palm, watching busted pieces of plastic slide off the side of the tiny heap of junk and fall onto the floor beside your knees. “Oh my god. You…?”

“Breaking things seemed like the easiest way to spend time with you,” he admits. “At least at first. I started doing less destructive things after a while. Deleting empty documents. Unplugging my keyboard. Turning off bluetooth. Moving my email shortcuts. I mean, damn. I thought you caught me more than once. I kept waiting for you to call me out. I dreaded it. I hoped for it.”

A cackle bubbles in the back of your throat but you suppress it with a snort. “So you held onto these? This whole time?”

“I didn’t know if I should like, recycle them or not and it’s not like I could ask you. And I mean googling that just seems suspicious. I’m not about to land myself on a watch list or something. But like, for real, you should definitely tell me if I can recycle them though because I have more and I would really like to clean out my drawer.”

Laughter breaches your lips in full force. “You faked being bad at stuff this whole time? Joonie, are you serious? I can’t believe I fell for the way — the way you type!” You cough and wheeze, trying to catch your breath between laughs. “With two fingers! I should have known. Only dads type like that. Oh my god. “

He offers a sheepish smile. “Actually, I really type like that. Something about the keys.”

“Oh.” Your laughter dies. “Sorry. I mean that like… mmm. You know what, I meant what I said. Kinda crazy, considering you text faster than me.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes. “Okay. Texting is different.”

You cross your arms, burying the broken pieces in your clenched fist. “Have you ever needed my help? Should even come running anymore?”

“Hey, sometimes I really do. I’m still clumsy. Plus, it’s out there now. I have no reason to waste your time... unless you want me to. I won’t stop you from climbing under my desk in those hot pants you wear with all the little pockets.”

You furrow your brows and scoff, an incredulous grin spreading across your face. “My cargo pants? Those pockets are huge.”

“Not compared to your ass.” He shakes his head with a smile, holds up his hands like he’s cupping your ass and pretends to squeeze it a couple times.

“Why are you like this?” You laugh with a roll of your eyes.

“Excuse me, who’s the one getting so drunk she’s going on thinking it’s hot to talk about making guacamole with my avocado dick?”

“Vaguely remember that. Smeared it all over me though, didn’t you?” You grin and wiggle your eyebrows.

He purses his lips and takes a breath. “If you mean watched you drink too fast on an empty stomach while we waited for takeout, sat with you while you dry-heaved for 20 minutes untiI I carried you to the couch and held your hand till you drank enough water to fall asleep, then yeah. Smeared it good.”

“And that’s why… I love you.”

You lean in and stop short of his lips, sitting back enough to narrow your eyes at him.

”Wait a minute. Projector.”

If you’ve been living on a ramen and cereal diet for two years because of a man’s inability to properly express romantic interest, you’re going to be pissed, regardless of how much you love said man now.

“Oh, hey, no. Hold up. The projector was a real accident. I cried,” he reminds you. “I will proclaim you as my goddess and savior for all time on that one.”

“Goddess, huh?” you smirk and close your fist around the busted pieces, leaning in for a kiss. “You gonna call me that instead now? I think I like that better than Geeksquad.”

He hums disagreement against your lips, “Mmm-mmm.”

You rest your forehead against his. “Promise me you won’t purposefully break anything else going forward.”

“I promise. That includes your heart,” he whispers, cupping your chin and pressing his lips against your cheek.

“You are so corny.” You pull at his tie, grinning as you lure him to your lips again. “And I’m so here for it. Now are you gonna help me up so we can start our vacation? Or are you gonna sit there with a hard dick and pretend like you still have work to do?”

He clicks his tongue and rises to his feet to extend a hand to you. As you attempt to pull yourself up, he reaches for your sides and lifts you with ease until you’re perched on the edge of his desk. He didn’t ask you to part your legs yet they spread for him anyway, wrapping around his waist and pulling him close.

“Are you gonna make me guess what all this is about?” he asks, tilting his head to the side and giving your crude ponytail a soft tug.

You smirk, staring at the red streaks of your lipstick circling his mouth while you try to ignore the heat between your legs that begs you to take him right here. You’ve imagined fucking on this desk thousands of times, but at least you still have enough sense to realize the risk in playing out that fantasy. He’s got a perfectly good desk at his place anyway.

“Take me home and maybe you’ll get to find out,” you say, pulling your keys from the hoodie pocket and letting them hang from your finger.

He groans as he takes them from you. “You know I can’t do highways.”

“Backroads are fine.”

“It’s gonna take forever,” he complains, dropping his head to your shoulder.

“It’s a good time to practice. Come on.” You pat his back a couple times and hop down from the desk, making sure to grind yourself against his erection. “I promise I’ll make it worth the wait.”

───── ⋆⋅☆·⋆ ─────

As soon as you’re in his apartment, you remove the hoodie to reveal your very crude surprise: a slutty schoolgirl costume. Eyes wide and jaw slack, he stops loosening his tie to imitate a lifeless statue of a drooling neanderthal.

“Y/N, what is… Why?”

“Because,” you begin in a low, sultry tone as you drag your fingers over the soft silk still in his hand. “I want you to teach me a lesson.”

His soft exhale fills the space between you and he stumbles to form a response. He laughs nervously, unable to compose himself. “What?”

You bite your lip, suddenly feeling stupidly uncertain. “You… watch this porn all the time, don’t you? At least I thought you did. Oh. Oh god. This is stupid. Sorry.”

He grips your shoulders to keep you from running towards the bedroom. His eyelids flutter for a

second as he struggles to compose his thoughts. “No. It’s fine. I’m all for roleplay. I’m just... I’m not into the teacher-student trope.”

You frown and reach into the hard-drive files of your brain for any porn you’ve seen on his computer. He’s lying and he knows you know it. He wilts under your puzzled gaze.

“I’m not that into it. Like a lot. I’ve seen some, but only when the story is there.”

“Oh, the story?” You hold back a giggle.

Is he really trying to tell you he’s watching porn for the plot to cover for some terrible porno choices? He should know by now that you don’t care about that. You’ve watched more than your fair share of terrible videos just to get off and immediately hated yourself after. It shouldn’t come as a surprise considering he pretended to be a total idiot with technology for years to cover up his feelings.

“What? I’m serious. I think it’s great when the woman is the teacher and the guy is her equal, you know? She definitely makes as much as he does, if not more because she does it in tight clothes because of the dress code, you know? And he comes in one day after hours and is like how does all this work, anyway? And she starts explaining but you know a button snaps and there’s tension. Baby, you know I’m a feminist. I would never—”

“Joonie. I’m not judging you. I wouldn’t do it if I wasn’t into it myself. I thought it might be fun. And I mean… I really wanted an excuse to have you bend me over your desk, but if you’re not interested I can just—” As soon as you start to work at the buttons of your blouse, he reaches out to stop you.

“We can try it,” he says, bashfully taking a step back and tapping his fingertips against yours. “I’d like to, if you’re down.”

You see an opportunity to break the tension and put him at ease, donning your best valley-girl accent. “Oh em gee, Professor Kim! You are, like, my favorite teacher. Is there some way I can get some extra credit? Puhleeeaase.”

“Nope, none of that,” he says with a laugh, twining his fingers with yours. “As a rule you cannot use that voice.”

“Fair enough.” You lead him towards the desk and gesture to the chair nearby. “How about I’m the teacher since you like that plot point so much?”

He chews his lip to hold back a toothy grin and watches with eager eyes as you bend at the waist to inspect the desk before him, giving a clear view of your ass and panties as your skirt rises. You relocate anything valuable to the nearby bookshelf and work on gathering the papers strewn about the surface.

“Sorry just let me gather up all my extra paychecks,” you mumble.

Once the desk is clear you perch yourself on its edge. Namjoon is already holding out a hair tie and a pair of glasses.

“You forgot these at the staff meeting.”

You roll your eyes and grin, working your hair into a messy bun and resting the glasses atop your head. “Thank you, Professor Kim.”

“Professor Kim is my father. Call me Namjoon.”

You purse your lips and try your best not to laugh, uncrossing and recrossing your legs purposefully. “I suppose you can call me Y/N, then.”

He makes no attempt to hide his lurid gaze, but his eyes travel to your face and he smiles. “Can I call you beautiful, instead?”

“Very smooth, Joonie,” you chuckle, breaking character for a moment.

“Joonie. Hmm. I like the way that sounds in your mouth.”

“I think there’s something else you’d like in my mouth. Maybe you’d like to put it in?”

Namjoon straightens in his seat as you approach, chest heaving in anticipation as he spreads his legs further so you might slot yourself between them. He dips his tongue into your mouth and you work his belt off, slowly sinking to your knees as you try to will yourself to break away from his kiss. He’s eager to unzip his pants and free his cock for you. It stands at attention, eagerly awaiting your touch.

Your breath warms the tip as you skim your lips across him, teasing him just enough to have him twitching, aching to thrust into that pretty mouth. He bites his lip as he looks down at you and inhales sharply through his nose the moment you grip his shaft. The moan that follows is like music to your ears and you grant him the flat of your tongue to reward such a sound.

He combs his fingers through his hair and clutches your shoulder as you take him into your mouth. The dark swollen head of his shaft is thick enough to make your jaw ache, but the sound of him cursing and losing all sense of coherence makes it worth it. As he sinks further into your mouth, he tilts his head back and squeezes his eyes shut in ecstasy.

You take him as deep as you can, allowing your spit to coat his cock. He likes it when it’s sloppy, when you’re drooling over yourself while he fills your mouth and you’re more than happy to oblige. Your eyes water as he flirts with the back of your throat with a soft, shallow thrust. When you choke his head snaps up to focus on you but you wave his concerned look away and grip his shaft tightly.

A thin string of precum and spit still connects your mouth to him as you lean back for just a second to compose yourself.

“Hope you don’t have any other meetings planned.”

“Why’s that?” His palm gently cups the back of your head, waiting for the moment you’re ready to take him again.

“I’m gonna make a mess of you.”

“Good.”

You meet his eyes and gather as much spit in your mouth as you can, allowing it to dribble down his cock before pumping your fist over him. He doesn’t have time to guide your head back down because you’re already on him again, working him over with your hand any place the warmth of your mouth can’t reach.

He chokes out an expletive and buries a hand in your hair, taking in the sight of your perfect mouth offering the bliss he craves. “You take me so well.”

You bob on his cock until he snakes his fingers down to undo the first button of your blouse, granting him access to a sliver of cleavage. He’s eager to see more of you, to feel more of you. Even after months of being with you, it doesn’t take much to tip him over the edge. He won’t last much longer if you keep going, but he’ll be damned if he blows his load in your mouth before even getting an opportunity to touch you.

“I wanna feel you,” he murmurs, leaning forward to coax you away from his cock and back to his lips.

The moment you press your lips against his he reaches for your waist to help you stand. He’s about to follow suit when you surprise him, straddling his lap and grasping at his tie to pull him towards your chest. His cock throbs as it grinds against the slick barrier of your soaked panties, begging for entrance as he buries his face in the splendor of your cleavage. A roll of your hips tempts him to push your panties aside and plunge into you like this. His fingers work as quickly as they can to pop open a few more buttons before slipping down to grip the meat of your ass.

“Fuck me,” you plead, grinding yourself down.

His arms tense and before you can entice him further he stands with a grunt, hoisting you onto the desk. You barely have time to react as he yanks your panties down and plunges a finger into your dripping cunt. Planting an arm behind you and keeping the other clasped around the back of his neck, you weakly attempt to keep yourself somewhat upright.

“How about you make a mess for me instead,” he whispers, leaving your cunt in favor of rubbing quick circles against your clit. “And then I’ll fill you up. Walk you out of here past everyone so they can see my cum dripping from your thighs. Everyone will know what a filthy slut you are for me, won’t they, beautiful?”

The way your muscles tense up nearly gives you a cramp. You bite your lip and nod with a pathetic fucked out grin as he fucks his fingers into your cunt, continuing to rub against your clit. Your elbow wobbles and you frantically grasp at his shirt instead, balling the material into your fist, desperate to undo the buttons but too close to nirvana to remember how to perform such a simple task. Your legs shake against the surface of the desk, and while the steady rhythm of his finger against your clit is heavenly, you’re ready to cry when his fingers leave your hole empty and aching to be filled.

“Joon, please.”

As soon as the desperate plea leaves your mouth, the tip of his cock teases your entrance, providing small, shallow thrusts that send you soaring past the threshold of your release. He can’t help but smile against your kiss as you drag his bottom lip through your teeth and melt into his form. Your walls spasm wildly around him and he gradually lets the pressure off your clit, instead increasing the pace and depth of his thrusts. He fucks you through the shockwaves of pleasure that follow your orgasm, stilling only when your eyelids stop fluttering and you’re able to meet his gaze with a fatigued satisfaction.

“Why’d you stop?” you wonder, lazily opening the buttons on his shirt. Pert brown nipples poke out from beneath the soft fabric, with the silky tie still swaying between them.

He watches you with a smile for a moment before pursuing the last few buttons of your blouse. Quickly working it off your shoulders, you give him the opportunity to reach for the clasp of your bra. It doesn’t take long for him to sweep you into a deep kiss, entranced by the way your skin feels against him while he’s still buried inside of you.

“Bend over this desk for me, baby. Show me that sexy ass.”

You whimper at the loss of his cock but do as he asks, knowing you’ll soon be full again. He lifts your skirt, takes both cheeks in his hands and squeezes before giving one side a slap. The moan that escapes you is embarrassing and it spurs him to repeat the action.

“Fuck,” he whispers, finally allowing his cock to press against cunt once more. “So fucking wet.”

Your own juices coat the expanse of your thighs, slowly trailing down them. Without warning he slams into you hard and fast. Wet slapping sounds fill the room as he holds your hips, driving them back to meet his thrusts.

“So fucking tight.”

You grip the opposing edge of the desk and moan. “You’re so deep, baby.”

“Fuck...” The word is exhaled through a shaky breath.

“So deep you could read me poetry,” you whisper, unable to stop the joke even though you know he’s on the cusp of cumming.

He huffs out a strained puff of air as he tries his hardest not to laugh. He gives in to the laughter after you begin to giggle. Unable to save himself, he leans into the joke that threatens to ruin his orgasm. “You’re my person. You’re my desire. You’re my pride...”

His thrusts are sloppy, his legs tense. You crane your neck to look over your shoulder to make sure he’s not mad. It must be your own grin that is contagious because he’s smiling even though he’s shaking his head at you.

“You’re my love. One and only love,” you recite for him, reaching back for his hand and pushing your hips back into him with force.

His grip on your hip tightens and he squeezes your hand. He slams into you a final time with a moan, ensuring he’s as deep as he can be before filling you with his seed. The pleasure amplifies every time you try to wiggle back for some sort of movement and he moves his hand to your ass, digging his fingernails in like it will keep him grounded. He leans over your form, kissing any bit of skin on your back his lips can reach.

Regardless of the sensitivity he keeps himself buried in you, hoping by some miracle he’ll stay hard enough to fuck you a second time. He can’t tell what’s his mess and what’s yours anymore as it drips down his balls to his thighs. As he finally slips out, you turn to face him with a sweet smile on your lips.

Your fingers glide through his hair and trail down to cradle his cheek. “I love you.”

Namjoon leans into your touch, pressing his lips to the inside of your palm. “I love you too.”

Maybe it’s the endorphins, but he can’t remember the last time he felt so comfortable and happy with another person, someone he can be so unapologetically himself with. He’s completely certain that he’s bound to you by fate. The love you share is destiny, a gift from the universe he never intends to take for granted.

No matter what the future holds, he knows he wants you by his side through it all: his one and only love.

[borkthemork]

Drabble Request: Anne and Marcy after her rescue

You know what, Anon? You get a 2,600 word draft as a treat. Thank you for your patience!

-----

Anne had read books before.

She wasn't the kind of person to read long-winding literature like the typical bookworms back home, but she did read whatever interested her. From magazines to comics to zoo books about bird mating dances, Anne liked stuff that had meat to it.

Give her enemies to lovers, she'd cheer at the makeouts. Give her gut wrenching biographies about surviving the Himalayas, she'd bawl her eyes out. And if one gave her story about being one's true self under the guise and acceptance of a duck instructor then she'd quack it up and never be heard from again.

There needed to be meat, drama, scenes of people kissing in the rain. Stories were all about getting punched in the gut over some random guy, and that would always be the best part!

So she had no idea why Cynthia Coven never stood out to her.

It might be because of the choppy writing style or perhaps fantasy wasn't her thing, but that didn't make sense to her. After all, she'd read anything as long as it was interesting and somehow the Coven books just…didn't stick?

Sure, Cynthia had a pet squirrel. Anne could find a squirrel at the park anytime. Cynthia had spells, curses, people with talking body parts that shouldn't be talking at all. Okay, cool — ugh, why wasn't she interested? Everything about it seemed right up her alley!

She chalked it up to preferences and moved on. 

But somehow, after all these years, the same book fluttered between the pages in her hands. And she found herself narrating, speaking the paragraphs out loud under the green canvas of her tent. 

All because the bedridden girl beside her couldn't sleep. 

It had been forty-six hours since Anne and the girls united. It felt a lot longer than that, if she wanted to be honest, but all the footing, fighting, and planning they did to get out unharmed from Andrias's castle had taken a toll on them. And for Mar-mar even more so, what with the amount of stuff that went down. A lot of explosions. Crying. Frog-on-frog violence.

So in this tent came privacy. Not enough privacy to basically stop Sprig or Sasha from barging in, but the makeshift walls were one of the most protected cliff faces inside the forests. So they were basically between a rock and a hard place.

And since Amphibia's nature became a hazard to not only the typical frog but aggro robot intruders, nothing got through as a threat in the end. Not even the huge mother frobo that she and Sash fought days prior.

Anne flipped a page.

The cold draft had slipped in and raised goosebumps on her umber skin. It almost seemed surreal that Summer started to transition out with the months passing, but the chirp of birds and the lack of cicada song had marked a new season, and now Anne shivered slightly with her narration.

Marcy's wounds needed to heal. From the remains of the stab wound to the headache to the numerous nicks upon her feet, if she didn't start sleeping then the medicine Maddie gave wouldn't come into effect anytime soon.

And if she didn't snore in the next ten minutes, Sash would have to knock her out with some sleepshroom grub saute and Anne wasn't going to let her get drugged anytime soon.

But from what was currently happening, Anne became unsure.

Marcy's eyes fluttered shut a few times. She would start drifting off at some random part in the story and then jolted back to listening intently as if nothing had happened. Nothing in the book could get her to sleep. Not Cynthia's introduction to werebeasts, her dramatic one-liners, or how she got knocked out for a minute straight from drinking a pint of Canadian beer.

Wait, could teens drink beer in Canada? Gah, that wasn't important!

What was important was that Marcy looked dead — terrifyingly dead — and no matter how much Anne tried to keep her eyes on the words, the fear clung to the recesses of her mind, asking if everything was going to be alright despite the girls' current luck streak.

That maybe this would be the last time she'd ever see Marcy alive. All because she fell asleep.

Anne leveled her voice when these thoughts struck her, and hoped Marcy didn't note the hitch in her throat or how she blinked faster to catch herself from crying.

Because Marcy was strong. She was stronger than people gave her credit for.

Anne peered down. Marcy's thumb had pressed to the side of Anne's fingers, their eyes meeting for a second; one harbored bags under her eyes, the other of worry.

"I promise I'll sleep." Her smile reached her gaze, the weariness plain on her worn out dimples and ashen cheeks. Anne might need a washcloth later. "It's been a long time since I've read the Cynthia Coven series, my brain can't help but pay attention."

"I know, Mar-mar." Anne closed her eyes for a second and let out a relaxed sigh. "Seven months can be pretty long."

"Tell me about it." Marcy's eyes lingered at the ceiling, licking her lips. "I've been so busy with everything that's been happening that I've barely caught up with the latest book."

"Yeah." Anne smiled. "You know they've got a new release out?"

She blinked. Almost as if Anne punched her in the face at that moment. "Are you serious? Aw man, I missed so much."

"Hey, it's alright. It'll be waiting for you when we get back." Besides, Anne already wrapped the edition in a lot of Christmas paper, might as well keep the surprise.

But Marcy still looked miserable. She pouted,  letting her sink more into the mattress almost comically, and Anne bit back a laugh when she groaned. "Oh man, I'm so excited, this sucks! At least tell me if Cynthia gets over the Bridge of Quintessence."

"I don't know what that means and besides, you're two books behind, why would you wanna spoil it!"

They shared a laugh and carried on. Anne missed this. She did. In between the page clips and the eagerness flowing in Marcy's voice, it almost seemed like they were back to what they once were: Two girls laughing and making fun of bad jokes, giggling at stuff that didn't make sense in the story. It almost made the worries over Andrias and her parents grow into background noise.

Almost.

Anne perked up. A question had flown past her, and now Marcy stared at her, inquiry clear in her eyes. "Oh, sorry, I zoned out a bit. What'd you say, Marbles?"

"I'm curious, Annarama."

"Curious about what?"

Marcy's eyes traveled over her shoulder for a second. Was it the fatigue? Judging from how she fiddled with her fingers, the question must've been something serious, maybe something about Andrias or what happened back in the castle.

Whatever it was, Anne readied herself as she waited.

And then:

"Is that mine?"

Anne blinked. She ogled her book, then at the bedside table with its medicinal herbs, then the Thai Go logo printed fresh on her shirt. "What's yours?"

She pointed to Anne's waist.

When Anne looked down, the realization struck her like a bat. Under the filtered sunlight, she almost forgot that the yellow jacket around her waist was there to begin with, snug and tight in that hard knot Anne tied everytime she stepped out of the house.

And somehow, it remained clean from countless dimensional hops and Super Saiyan power-ups. And now it was here. Being scrutinized by her and the girl opposite her.

With that, she started to sweat.

Right, that.

A nervous laugh burst out from her mouth, making Marcy stare at her more out of concern.

How was she going to explain that?

"Oh, yeah! I almost forgot!" She rubbed her neck, trying her best to pick out the right reasons in her mind, but nothing stuck out to her. "It's a funny story actually, so funny that you'll probably forget in the morning so why not another time?"

A smile formed. "I don't know, Anne." Her eyes scrunched up too in pleasure, pressing her thumb against Anne's knuckles. "I'm all for sleeping to a comedy. Remember when we watched Borat? I laughed so hard I passed out."

"Oh, Mar-mar, that's not what I mean."

"Then what do you mean?" She then pulled her hand away, frowning. "Unless I'm pushing you, then I'll just—"

"No, no. You're fine!" What wasn't fine was how her heart pounded against her chest. Or, that the more she tried to take a deep breath, Marcy's growing concern made her laughter sound more like an old man wheezing from an asthma attack.

Anne was about to make a dumbass out of herself and that was fine! As long as she stayed calm and explained then maybe she wouldn't feel nervous about this.

Wait, why was she nervous anyway? It was just a jacket!

Oh, she knew why.

"Okay." Anne placed the book down, trying to regain her breath. Might as well go for it. What was the worst that could happen? Don't answer that. "So you remember how I've been trying to find my way back after I got through the portal?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, I didn't want to forget. Not like I would've but I thought you died and I knew taking down Andrias was the only way to avenge you and get Sasha back." Anne sharply inhaled — words speeding past her ears. "So I thought 'Hey, I'll carry your jacket so I don't forget' and I basically wore it around everyday until I finally found a way back. So…"

Marcy's stare didn't help her sweating as she spoke, giving jazz hands to finish it all off. "Here I am. Yeah."

Marcy continued to stare at her. She'd never seen her this gobsmacked before; usually she found a way to ask questions, to let her enthusiasm shine through with eager stride, but now she became a deer in the highlights. All agape. All wide-eyed.

Oh Frog, I broke her.

"Mar-mar, you okay?"

"So you wore my jacket as a reminder to stop Andrias," she asked slowly, "after months of finding a way back?"

Anne puffed out her cheeks. "Maybe?"

"Anne…"

"Okay, okay, yeah." She hung her head, defeat in her voice. "I did."

"Oh." Marcy's eyes widened to the size of saucers, a shaky exhale breaking through. "Oh."

Anne stood up. If she didn't get out in the next fifteen seconds, she was going to explode. "Okay, yep! That's it for the Cynthia Coven series! Goodnight, Mar-mar, I'll check up on you later—!"

"Wait, wait!"

Marcy latched onto her wrist. Her ears pounded on, hard to focus with her sweaty palms and the shallowness of her breath. Because this whole situation was awkward and weird and it made her feel funny things in her heart and darn it Anne should've handled this back on Earth — not while they were stuck in the middle of a Frog darn war!

"Anne, please look at me."

She did. 

When she turned, the sight surprised her. Marcy's cheeks had darkened considerably as they held each other's gazes, the hold on her arm still having them tethered to one another.

Then the touch loosened slightly. It didn't speak of fear nor did it speak of pain. It didn't speak of the desperation Marcy once had when she held her fists in the broken halls of the Newtopian castle. What Anne instead found was reassurance. A reassurance in their interlocked hands, at how they gazed intently under the tent canvas, a heat creeping well onto Anne's cheeks too.

"It's really sweet that you wore my jacket like that." Marcy then bore down at the bedding lines, almost squeaking her words. "And very clever! Yeah! Because a physical reminder is a great alternative to notebooks and to-do list, and since my jacket has emotional connotations to me, of course you'd wear it! It just makes sense."

Marcy coughed into her sleeve, words almost a whisper. "You've always been good at improvising, after all."

"Mar-mar..."

"And thank you."

Anne stopped. She could've honed in on the bustling Wartwoodians outside. Or the rustle of the forest trees. But she focused on the comforting tap of Marcy's fingers, and the gleam in the girl's eyes — almost as if Marcy was about to cry.

"You've always been kind," she murmured. Her fingers trailed circles on Anne's palms, leaving her to shudder slightly under the touch. Especially when Marcy's eyes grew half-lidded. Remorse on her lips. "And to know you worked so hard after everything I did to you and Sash, I don't how I'll ever make it up for it."

"You don't have to do that," she said. Her words drifted between them, remembering what Mrs. Wu said a few months ago: That Marcy was the best out of all of them. Because she always needed to be. "What Andrias did was not your fault, and I'll beat him again if he ever makes you think it is."

"Besides," she said, putting on a smile. "Having you beside me has always been enough. Honest."

But Marcy's grief remained on her face, unspoken as her fingers faltered their dragging on Anne's palms.

Because she wanted to hold her hand instead, both their fingers trembling from the bedridden girl's arm.

"Anne, I hurt you. I did. No matter how much I try to justify myself, I still omitted everything about what I knew." Her eyebrows furrowed, glaring more at their shaky hands. "I was selfish. I wasn't honest."

"Don't say that. You didn't know this would happen, I understand this now."

"But you're still angry." Marcy sighed. "I know you are."

The conifers rustled silently. The faraway bugs whistled, occupying each interval as they held hands, their gazes observing anything but the other. Until Anne couldn't think up a better excuse anymore.

As much as Anne tried to forgive, there was something frightening about the resentment in her skin, underneath all that warmth. It went against every lesson she learned. Every lesson of compassion. Or maybe she was just denying it for what it truly was — a tight angry wound that had reason to exist as much as their handlock. 

Her body sagged at the thought. She'd gotten so far, trying to deny anything about herself would reverse so much.

"Yeah," she said softly. "I'm still mad. I don't want to be, but I am. But that doesn't mean I was gonna leave you guys in the middle of a war." The next words were under her breath. "I never wanted you guys to get hurt in the first place."

Marcy brushed her knuckles. "Take as much time as you need."

"I think a few months is enough."

"Or a year."

A smile. "Maybe more."

And Anne held her hand until the silence heard their heartbeats. Until their smiles returned slowly, surely.

"I talked to Sasha before you came in," Marcy said.

"You did?"

She nodded. "Mhm. And I don't know if she told you this, but we both agreed to a concordance." Marcy faltered. "An agreement I mean."

Anne snorted. "You don't have to dumb yourself down around me."

"Heyy, I'm not, I just don't want this to sound...clinical."

"Right."

The younger girl shuffled closer to her, which was surprising enough with the limited room on the bed itself. But when Anne held her eyes, there came recognition of something new. Was it relief? Worry?

"What we agreed on is that you don't have to forgive us. Maybe you'll be mad at us for a long time—"

"Mar-mar, I'm not—"

"Let me finish," she said softly. Anne hesitated. She resolved to caress Marcy's knuckles instead, and, of course, she didn't seem to mind. "Whatever happens, whatever you decide, we're not going to abandon you. If you want us out of your life, we'll respect it. If you want us to stay, then we'll respect that too."

Marcy inhaled, slow and careful. 

"And when you're ready, I'll make sure to be close by."

There had been times where Anne couldn’t predict what her future held. There had been numerous moments where Anne wanted to quit, to get angry, to question how her life hit upon all these coincidences like pinball and found herself in the most surprising of situations.

But when Marcy finished, stared at her, waiting for her to let her statement sink in, everything seemed to click in place. For just a single moment.

Each word had come out resilient, well thought-out. Anne could imagine the planning so clearly: How Sasha and Marcy sat in the same positions as them, sat with their heads together as they discussed what to say. And the more Anne listened, she could only hope that Sasha was just around the corner, ready to say the same things in her own Sasha-like way.

But for now, they gripped each other's hands, squeezed their fingers until Anne could only think of the heat. The burn in her nose. Then the bit-back sob and her trembling lip as Marcy pressed a thumb carefully to Anne's cheek, rubbing the tear trail away.

Because out of everything Anne predicted to find at the other end of the portal, it wasn’t this. 

"You promise?"

Marcy smiled, the ends of her lips twitching weakly. "I promise this time." Her voice broke. "I do."

With it, came the waterworks.

[sweettodo]

Good girl ⟿ Hisoka Morow [ teacher ] x reader

Includes : raw sex, semi- public, praising, teacher x student. Reader is aged !

word count : 2,5k

this is for 200 followers, some more teacher stuff for you lil sluts <3 enjoy ! maybe I’ll write sun more 😏.

••

You knew it was such a terrible idea, you knew you would be in so much trouble if anyone found out; but how couldn’t you resist? He has quite the magic touch.

Plus, how could you resist, especially when you were his, and his only?

Professor’s pretty little doll, his little fruit, he could do whatever he wanted to you and you would be so much as begging on your knees for more, you were his; to fulfill his every urge and twisted need. He knew your limits, he knew not to subject you to any unwanted pain, but he also wanted to erect every nerve in your body and stimulate it until you were unable to walk; or move for that matter.

It wasn’t for the grade anymore, admittedly, it was never really for the grade to begin with, and not to mention, you were in too deep, you were falling in love with the man, thighs had just happened that you nor him could explain. He never failed at treating you like a princess, his perfect little girl. 

It was hard to contain yourself in English class every other day; you didn’t know if it were just you, could it be one sided? Was he thinking about you as much as you were thinking about him? Nonetheless, you paid attention to nothing other than the man who certainly had you swooned, staring at his tall figure, muscular legs and that tight back, you were light headed and breathless when he would wear that constricting white button-up, just like today; the shirt tightening around his biceps whilst he wrote on the board, daydreaming about you being in his bed, vulnerable, tying you up to the bedposts and toying with you all night into the morning, per usual.

“Y/n?” You snap out of your childish gaze, everyone's eyes are on you, waiting for your response, you had no idea what to say and you quickly become flustered, “were you listening, y/l/n?” he crosses his arms; ‘well don’t act like my teacher or anything’ you scoff silently.

“Uh- n-no, sorry sir.” nervously chuckling, your teacher shakes his head, a small ‘tch’ as he continues to look at you in disappointment.

He sighs, followed by a quick and strict, “stay after class.” Your thighs immediately clench, sitting up in your seat and wiggling, he has to know what he’s doing, you nod and he continues teaching. If it weren't for his hold on you, you wouldn’t be having these sinful thoughts, he knew how to flip the switch, he knew how to drive you absolutely fucking mad.

You finish your assignment, now just waiting for class to wrap up, the bell finally rings, kids charging out of class to enjoy their weekend; you walk slowly to the front of your teacher’s desk, ready to face the wrath of the man, hes ushering kids out the door, waiting for the last kid to leave before he’s closing and locking the door behind him, shutting the shade to block anyone from looking in, he turns around and tilts his head, “what’s on your mind, I can’t have you zoning out in my class.” He interrogates, only a foot away from you, his arms crossed and tense, awaiting your response.

“I was just distracted- thinking about things…” you drag, looking down at your feet, unable to meet his intimidating gaze, his arms unfold, your eyes trail up his towering body, golden eyes burning holes into your skull.

“What were you thinking about?” he asks, “more specifically, what had you wiggling in your seat?” his hand tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, his thumb caressing your sensitive skin, chills riddling your bones.

“You, Mr. morrow.” you spoke under your breath, his eyebrow quirks up, obviously pleased with your forthcoming answer, “it’s just, what you’re wearing…” you mutter, he drags his thumb under your chin, bringing your head up, you could faint on the spot, the feeling he stirred up was indescribable.

“Yeah? You like what I’m wearing, princess?” He hums, you nod, looking up at him through your eyelashes, he chuckles, his hand trailing down to your throat, lightly squeezing, you were so in love with him, in love the way he touched you, in love with the way he took care of you, “You know, I just can’t take my mind off of you, you know that?” He says, taking his hand off your throat and grabbing your hand, leading you to sit on the end of his large desk.

“Really?” you reply, opening your legs only a little so he can stand closer to you, he replies with a small ‘hmm’ and places his hands on your bare knees. You subconsciously wore skirts almost every class, or leggings, to ensure easy access for your professor, this wouldn’t be the case if you weren’t such a hungry whore for your teacher. He rubs your thighs, only slightly going under the black skirt, you were tickled with excitement.

“Of course princess, you’re always on daddy’s mind, you know that.” You bite your bottom lip, legs opening a little more, “but, I can’t have you failing this semester, you know I don’t like it when you’re a bad girl, right princess?” He speaks, you nod.

“I know, I’m sorry, I’ll pay attention.” You ensure, your hand touching his belt buckle teasingly, a small smile on your face as Hisoka’s eyes glance down to see what you were doing, “maybe.”

He smirks, “My, are you saying I’m a bad teacher? That I’m at fault for your distraction?” His hands stop moving, removing them from your thighs, you shrug in response, taking his belt back into the grasp of your fingers, “do you want to get me in trouble princess? Imagine the trouble we would be in if I gave you what you wanted.” Your fingers begin to unloop the buckle, tugging him closer to you. 

“I’m sorry professor, but that hasn’t stopped you before.” His eyes widen slightly, you knew that would get him going, his fingers reach the back of your head, tugging your roots yo your head is forced upwards, his other hand finishing the unhooking of his belt as he rips it out of the loops of his slacks, he dips his head down, kissing down your jawline until reaching the corner of your lips, stopping and you pout, he smiles when he sees your neglectful pout, he wanted to kiss you badly, but what was the fun of not watching you beg?

“On your knees, pretty girl.” it took you no longer than a second to slide off the desk and onto your knees, he laughs, “god, so so good.” He’s overcome with happiness when he sees you following orders, you unbutton his pants, already feeling the tightness of his growing cock beneath the fabric of his pants. Pulling them down, freeing him from those tight pants, the tent in his boxers got you beyond excited. You knead him through the thin fabric, his hand already bunching up your hair to clear your face so he could look at his dick destroy your throat.

“You like sucking my cock, don’t you? C’mon, open up.” your tongue slipping out, welcoming his rock hard cock to fuck your throat, he was happy to see you were so compliant today. His hands cup your face as he slides into your wetness, a little groan leaving his mouth as he slips further into you. He guides your head as he sees fit, not wanting to come within the first few seconds, he makes sure to go extra slow, he needs to save his seed for your pretty little pussy.

As he pulls out of your throat, your tongue swirls around his tip, he swears under his breath, followed by a mantra of your name, he shoves himself as far down your throat as he can, making sure you choke and gag so your throat can constrict around him, tears bubbling at the waterline of your eyes from the restriction of air, pouring down your cheeks, causing the black makeup to seep down your face. “Do you want me to fuck you? Right here?” He purrs, finally releasing you from around his cock, you pant, trying to fill your lungs back up.

“Yes I do, please fuck me, please daddy.” You beg, still on your knees, he smiles.

He pulls you to your feet, pushing you down onto the desk, “‘fucking love it when you beg princess, you need my cock that bad?” You look back at him, nodding, “let’s see how wet you are, yeah?” You lower your head and let him take over, the cold desk against your face making you tingle, he flips up your skirt, the draft of cool air making you shiver. His large hands kneading your ass, pulling apart your cheeks to let your underwear move towards your heat, he grabs ahold of your underwear, pulling it up your back, you gasp, the pressure of the fabric pressing against your screaming cunt, “You better keep quiet, or you’re going to be in much more trouble when we get home, okay pretty girl?” He’s moving your underwear down past your ass until they’re just above your knees caps, your legs spread enough for him to drag his wet tip up and down your cunt, teasing you before sliding his tip just past your entrance.

“Already sucking me in, good fucking girl.” he spits, your left clenching your teeth to prevent you from moaning out, he slowly fills you up, fitting him perfectly, his hips hit your ass, before slowly pulling out and plunging back in, you weren’t going to be able to keep quiet, covering your mouth with your hand as your teacher fucks you raw in a classroom.

“I- I won’t be able to do it, sir, I can’t stay quiet.” You moan, he picks up the pace, cockhead peeking at your cervix, the pain rung throughout your body, it hurts so incredibly good, you screw your eyes shut, keeping your hand glued to your mouth as you screamed into your palm.

“Shut up! be quiet y/n.” Hisoka hisses, trying to gain back some authority, but he failed miserably, he was falling apart at the seams, your pussy did magical things to him. Sweat beading at his forehead, he could barely keep it together, sloppy thrusts filling you to the max.

He pulls out of you, grabbing you by your shoulder and flipping you over, forcing you on your back over the desk, quickly pulling your undergarments off so he can pin your legs open and back so he can dive back into your cunt. While pinning one leg down, he uses the other to cover your mouth, his body leaning over yours as he fucks you again, your legs wrap around his waist, face inches from yours, breath fanning your face as he slams into you, you wail out in pleasure under his heavy hand, drilling into you mercilessly as you could do nothing but look at him with tears pouring from your eyes. He was animalistic, those once pretty and light eyes were now dark, devilish, full of lust.

You were so close to orgasming, the repeated pounding of that one spot was driving you over the edge, you gripped your legs around him tighter, clenching your walls around his thick cock as your eyes rolled back and you cream all over him, creating more of a slippery lube bathing his wet cock. He isn’t far behind you, the sticky sound of your hips slamming against each other probably could’ve gotten you caught, but you two were so high on cloud nine that all you needed to do was reach climax and then you could ensure you both wouldn’t get yourselves caught; Hisoka was so close, “god, this fucking pussy, all mine, keep squeezing me like that princess- god- I’m gonna fill you with my kids, til’ I’m pouring out of you.” He whispers into your ear, you whine under his hand, stomach tightening more and more.

Your hands find themselves either gripping his hair or gripping his back, wishing you had sheets beneath you so you could grip, instead of this desk. Maintaining eye contact is one thing Hisoka loved most, watching those beady eyes; they told him what you were feeling, whether it be pain, sadness, those eyes you had when you were at your climax, he loved those pearly little things.

His dick starts twitching, long, yet hard strokes as he slows his pace, staggered breathing as he releases into you, feeling hot liquid cover your walls, he stops and stays inside your soaked cunt for a few minutes before slowly pulling out, “Such a good girl, always doing what daddy want’s, you never cease to amaze me.” Catching his breath, his cheeks red from the workout. You lay there, somewhat unable to move, feeling both Hisoka’s and your own juices drip out of your cunt, seeping onto your ass and down to the surface of the desk. 

Your Professor and you definitely took this privacy for granted, what were you two thinking? But that was so far back in your irresponsible heads. The sudden adrenaline rush you both are overcome with when someone is knocking on his classroom door, “Professor, I have a question about the homework,” sends you flying to your feet, pulling up your underwear and making a run for your desk so it looks like you were sitting there working the whole time, Hisoka is throwing his pants on and tossing his belt under his desk, shuffling towards the door, trying to compose himself as he is unlocking the door and opening it, a student stands there with a paper in his hand.

“Sure,” taking the paper from his hand, the boy glances behind Hisoka’s shoulder, eyes landing on my own, he sends me a look of confusion, your eyes widen; you looked a fucking mess, eye makeup smeared everywhere and most likely staining your face. There was no avoiding this one, you were beyond humiliated, dropping your head down to avoid your peers eyes.

“Making her cry Professor? That’s not nice!” He jokes, Hisoka glances over his shoulder and makes eye contact with you, a smug look covering his face.

“Maybe if she paid attention in class she wouldn’t be crying would she.” He taunts, you blush and look back down. 

That was too close.

[nomtterwhere]

come back to me || marco peña x reader

a/n: now that we have an official announcement for kissing booth 3, i figured i’d finish this little fic that has been sitting in my drafts. i combined two requests because they were kind of similar and i had an idea that would work the both of them in. hope you guys like it!

request: @dystopianchic13 requested: “Going on a date and finding someone better after Elle!” and @mansaaay requested: “marco befriended a girl before the elle thirsting over marco incident, and the kissing booth, marco and the girl sorta start talking again?”

summary: when marco starts at your school, the two of you quickly become friends. but when elle gets involved, your relationship takes a turn for the worse...

word count: 4.4k

marco valentin peña.

newest school heartthrob, with good reason, and very quickly set to possibly be the most popular guy in school. and yet, here he was sitting and eating lunch with you and your friends.

it’s not that you weren’t well liked or anything, but you and your friend group were nowhere near the status of the omgs. and considering the way everyone talked about him from the moment he stepped into the building, you had assumed that would be the direction he would flock.

but alas, on his first day at this school, he ended up standing at your table, tray of food in hand. your friend nudged you until you looked up from your lunch and saw him standing there. up until this point you had only heard of marco. you hadn’t shared any classes with him earlier in the day but throughout all of them you could hear bits and pieces of conversation about how attractive this guy was. and now that he was standing in front of you, those comments didn’t do him enough justice.

he was wearing the same uniform everyone else was, but he had rolled his sleeves up so they just passed his elbows, drawing your attention almost immediately to his forearms. trailing your eyes up his body, your eyes followed along his broad shoulders and up the length of his neck, glancing at his strong jawline.

you made eye contact with him, your breath quite literally leaving your body. his brown eyes were kind and inviting, friendly even, as if you hadn’t just been shamelessly checking him out.

“um, hi.” you say.

he smiles at you, nods to the empty seat across from you. “hey, i was wondering if that seat was taken.”

oh god, his voice.

you try and ignore the pinch that quinn delivers to your thigh underneath the table and shake your head. “no. um, it’s all yours.”

he gives you a full smile now, his perfect teeth on full display and you can’t help but smile back. he takes a seat, setting his bag down beside him.

your friend grant sits at his right side and places a hand on his shoulder. “you’re marco, right?”

marco nods.

grant squints his eyes at him and shakes his head, looking across the table at you and quinn. “unbelievable.”

he turns back to marco. “do me a favor and stay away from my girlfriend.”

“grant!” the girlfriend in question, jen, exclaims and gives him a look before turning to marco. “excuse him, he’s an idiot.”

grant releases marco with a laugh and takes a bite of his sandwich. “i was kidding! mostly.” he mumbles the last word through a full mouth.

marco laughs, waving it off. “it’s okay. trust me, i’m not here to steal anyone’s girlfriend.”

you take a drink from your water bottle, laughing at your friends. “yeah, this may have not been the prime table for you to choose to sit at.”

marco shrugs, giving you a half smile. “i like it. you guys seem very...”

“loud?” quinn finishes as one of the boys down the table shrieks as someone else pours water down his shirt. “disruptive? unfiltered?” she aims that last word at grant, who’s too infatuated with his sandwich to notice.

marco laughs again and you smile. he seems very open, you note. willing to go with anything.

“i was gonna say entertaining.” he shrugs. “but those work too.”

you and your friends quickly introduce yourselves and the rest of the lunch period resumes like it always would have.

marco quickly slips into the natural system of you and your friends, not even a little bit fazed when the entire cafeteria turned to see the commotion that you had caused when someone flipped their entire lunch tray off the table. he simply laughed along with you guys, giving himself into the moment. too soon, lunch is over and you and your friends are cleaning up your table and throwing out the trash. faintly, you hear quinn arguing with the boys, telling them you were the ones to make the mess so of course you have to clean it up! as you came back to your table from returning your tray.

marco looks at you when you return and stands. “hey, could you tell me where mr. peterson’s room is? i would have asked one of them but...” the both of you turn your heads to where quinn is supervising the boys picking up after themselves and the girls sneak off as best as they can before quinn gets to them as well. “...they seem a bit busy.”

you laugh, picking up your backpack. “just another day with this bunch, trust me. but lucky for you, i also have ap physics next.”

the bell rings and you turn to quinn, but she hasn’t let up on the boys so you just let her be. being late on the first day isn’t that big of a deal anyway.

you lead marco to the physics room, all eyes on the two of you as soon as you step into the room. you almost forgot that you had spent the entirety of lunch with the school’s newest crush up until this very moment. you could feel the glares directed at you radiating throughout the room and watched as heads of those who hadn’t seen him yet perk up as he entered.

“is it just me, or is everyone looking at us?” marco had bent down and was whispering in your ear.

you decide not to inflate his ego anymore and shake your head. “it’s just you.”

you take a seat at one of the lab tables, marco sitting beside you. you zone out as the teacher speaks, it was the first day so it was mainly rules and the expectations for the year.

so you don’t pay much attention until one sentence catches your ear:

“the person you’re sitting with will be your lab partner for the rest of the year.”

you and marco turn to look at each other and he grins.

“hi, partner.” he says, quietly since mr. peterson is still speaking.

“you should know, i have been yelled at in every lab class i’ve ever taken because i always forget the directions.” you warn him.

“well this should be fun. so have i.” he winks and you both laugh quietly.

the period passes slowly as most do on the first day. the bell rings but everyone stays in their seats since lab was next anyway.

you go over lab rules and discuss the first lab you will be doing next time and you raise your brows as he hands out the instruction sheet.

“yikes, this looks like a lot of steps.” you say to marco and he shakes his head.

“mm, yeah. next lab class should be fun, don’t you think?” he gives you a knowing look.

you can’t help but laugh at the thought of you in a lab class together, but the laughter is also for the fact that you found marco.

never in your life had you met someone who was so ready to quickly adapt and go with the flow. you had had no doubt that your lunch table would be enough to scare him off but he had already decided he would be coming back tomorrow. and so, that became the beginning of your friendship and many screwed up labs. marco inserted himself nicely into your friend group and the two of you especially started becoming really close. that was, until one fateful day.

“...hot.” is the only thing you hear over the loudspeaker in the middle of your english class and everyone around you looks up in confusion. “he’s just a guy...woah!”

you quickly recognize the voice as elle evans and also realize that she probably doesn’t know she’s being broadcast to the entire school right now.

“the omgs were right, this guy is a snack!” you hear her say and everyone in your classroom laughs, the teacher’s eyebrows raised.

you wince on her behalf. you’re not friends, but still. that’s embarrassing for anyone. everyone gathers pretty quickly that’s she’s talking about marco and you internally roll your eyes. obviously you know marco’s hot, you have eyes. but to have another girl describe just how hot he is over the loudspeaker during class makes you bubble over with annoyance.

and besides, doesn’t she have a boyfriend?

eventually, her tirade stops and your teacher tries to calm the class down so you can get back to work. but even as you leave your class, everyone is still taking about it and elle has been given the new nickname get it girl.

“ah, there he is, our very own full course meal. or was he the dessert?” grant asks as marco sits at the table.

“no, grant. he’s a snack, remember?” quinn joins in.

“how about all of the above?” you say and the table erupts into laughter.

marco shakes his head. “alright, alright. enough jokes.”

you get a deadpanned look on your face. “oh, no. we’re dead serious marco. you’re just that hot.”

grant wraps an arm over his shoulders and starts making kissy faces at marco which he laughs at and shrugs off.

“seriously, though. where does elle get off saying that kind of shit? doesn’t she have a boyfriend?” jen asks.

“she does, indeed.” you point a fry in her direction before popping it into your mouth.

“huh,” marco says as he takes a sip of his water.

“what’s that’s supposed to mean?” you ask him.

“nothing.” he sets down his bottle. “i just didn’t know she had a boyfriend is all.”

you give him a wary look but decide to drop it for now, hoping that elle evans was behind you. and she was, until...

“you what?”

marco sighs, sinking his pool shot before standing up straight.

the two of you were at the arcade, making the most of your last day of the weekend. the arcade was mainly empty except for a mother and her two kids who turned to look at you when you shouted. you gave her an apologetic look before turning your attention back to marco.

“i felt bad. lee can’t do the competition and she really wants to enter. what was i supposed to say, no?” marco says in response.

apparently elle and lee were supposed to enter a dance dance mania competition together, but since lee sprained his ankle, elle needed a replacement partner.

you don’t say anything, simply watching as he misses his next shot.

he looks up at you when he realizes you aren’t going to respond. “why do you even care if i help her?”

you feel your face get warm but you ignore it as best as you could, setting up for your own shot. it was your first shot of the game considering you hadn’t realized he was apparently a pro at pool.

“i don’t! its just that we have a take home lab due in two weeks and i don’t want to be stuck doing it myself cause you’re off dancing with get it girl.”

you call her by her nickname solely to spite him. why did you care so much? who knows, but you enjoyed seeing marco roll his eyes at the mention of the name.

“you won’t. and hey, relax.” he says.

you shoot him a glare. “don’t tell me to relax when you’re abandoning me.”

he chuckles. “no, relax.” he nods to the pool cue in your hand which you have in a death grip.

“oh.” you didn’t realize you had been taking out your anger on the poor stick. you take a deep breath, relaxing your grip and line up your shot.

“here.” marco walks over to you, disappearing from your vision as he stands behind you.

you quietly take a sharp intake of breath as you feel his body behind yours, his hands coming around you to lightly rest on the cue, shifting it slightly.

“what are you doing?” you ask, quietly but make no move to exit his embrace.

“considering i’m three shots away from winning and you haven’t made a single one yet, i figured i could help you out a little.” he says and you can hear the smile in his voice.

“oh, shut up.” you mumble, but you don’t put any power behind your words.

marco adjusts your grip on the pool cue, lightly setting his hands over yours. his chest presses against your back and you can feel the heat radiating from his body to yours. your stomach clenches as his hand grazes yours ever so gently as he settles in. he leans forward a bit as he helps you line up your shot and you try your hardest to focus on the task at hand. but his lips are right by your ear so you feel his breath as he whispers:

“and shoot.”

you tap the ball with your pool cue, watching as your striped 10 ball rolls into the left corner pocket.

marco lifts his arms in victory and you found yourself saddened by the sudden loss of his body against yours.

“there it is!” he exclaims. “alright, next shot is all you.”

you groan playfully, trying to ignore the butterflies that have arisen in your stomach. you spend the rest of your day in the arcade before calling it quits and heading home to finish homework.

when you get home, you mull over what marco dancing with elle in the ddm competition means. you try to remind yourself that marco said things weren’t going to change now that he was helping out elle, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t going to turn out like he hoped.

and you were right.

ever since they started rehearsals, you have seen less and less of marco. he even eats lunch with her, leaving his spot across from you vacant. you saw him during ap physics but that was the only time you talked.

and as for your lab, guess who had spent the past two weeks working on it herself? everytime you called him to get him to work with you, it was always “sorry, elle and i have a practice” or “elle needs me right now.” it was as if your friendship meant nothing to him.

“alright guys, labs are due friday. i want them on my desk by the beginning of the lab period.” mr. peterson says at the end of lab on tuesday.

“oh shit, i totally forgot about that.” marco says, turning to you. “how’s—”

“it’s fine. i’m almost finished.” you cut him off, packing away your stuff without making eye contact.

“okay...” he says this with a twinge of confusion in his voice and you can feel the anger inside of you. “there’s nothing i can do?”

“i don’t know marco, why don’t you ask my dozens of phone calls and text messages i’ve sent you regarding the lab?” you lock eyes with him, angry now. “does i won’t let you do this lab alone ring a bell? or have you forgotten about that too?”

he sighs. “y/n, you know i’ve been busy. and i’m sorry. i really didn’t mean for you to do all of the work.”

your teacher clears his throat. “mr. peña, ms. y/l/n. don’t you have a class to get to?”

you look up with a smile. “yes, mr. peterson, sorry. have a good day.”

you leave the classroom without another look at marco.

and so the continuing weeks followed as such, marco spending all of his time with elle and the two of you only speaking when you had class together. there were times you tried to reach out, to be a peacemaker, but he always responded to your requests to hang out with sorry, i’m busy. next time?

to no one’s surprise, there was never a next time.

and as much as you were mad at marco for essentially ignoring your presence ever since he started dancing with elle, you couldn’t help but tune in to the competition since it was being streamed live.

“give me a second!” you call to your mom as you sit in front of your laptop and watch as elle and marco are called to the stage.

you sit through the performance, unable to help the proud feeling spreading through your body. you and marco may not have been as good of friends anymore, but you were still happy to see him thrive. even if it was a result of ignoring you for so long. your proud smile quickly drops from your face though, as you watch elle kiss marco. your eyebrows raise and you inhale a sharp intake of breath when she wraps and arm around him and pulls him closer.

you shut your laptop quickly, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. you press your hands against your eyes, refusing to let the tears fall. what would they be falling for? some guy that hadn’t shown interest in you and then abandoned you when you needed help? you were better than that.

so you left it alone. you didn’t know what was going on with elle and marco and it wasn’t any of your business. you had put it past you. you and marco were still friendly, but after the kiss with elle, he seemed even more distant than usual. and you couldn’t figure out why until the night of the fundraiser.

you were walking through the carnival, looking at different booths with jen when elle ran past us, accidentally bumping into you. she turned when she noticed it was you who she had run into and you notice her red rimmed eyes.

“oh my gosh, are you okay?” you may not have been her biggest fan, but you also weren’t a bitch. it was obvious she had been crying.

“i’m really sorry. just talk to him, okay? please.” was all she said before leaving the carnival.

“what was that about?” jen asks me.

“i’m not sure...” you say, looking after her retreating figure.

but it didn’t take long to figure out because as we walked further into the booths, we saw marco walking away from the kissing booth. with his head slightly bowed and his hands in his pockets, it was obvious he was upset about something.

you and liz exchanged a look and she raised her eyebrow at you, nodding over in his direction.

“well? go talk to him!” she shoved you forward a little bit.

you sighed, knowing that you should. you assumed that’s what elle had been talking about. so you approached him slowly, just as he reached the outside of the kissing booth crow.

“hey.”

he looked up when he heard your voice, an almost grateful look on his face, and gave you a small smile. “hey.”

“can we talk?” you asked him and he broke into a relieved smile.

“yeah, i’d like that.”

you followed him to the outskirts of the carnival where the two of you sat on a bench right outside the exit. you sat first, crossing your legs as you faced the opposite side of the bench and patted the space beside you.

marco chucked and sat down, turning to face you as well. he drummed his fingers on the back of the bench, and you noticed his knee was bouncing. he was nervous. because of this you thought you would have to guide him into conversation, but to your surprise he began with no hesitation.

“i know i owe you an apology. ditching you like that because of my stupid crush on elle was not cool, especially after promising i wouldn’t let you do all the work yourself.” you winced at that, hoping it wasn’t too visible. you had known that marco liked elle, obviously, but to hear him say it aloud still hurt. “i’m so sorry. and not only about the lab but about our friendship. you were the first people that was actually real to me when i came here and you were my best friend. i let elle get in the way of that and i feel terrible.”

he fidgeted a bit in his seat. “i know i haven’t acted like it but...i miss you. a lot. i miss our terrible labs and arcade days and having lunch with you. i miss all of it. and i know it’s my fault that none of that has been happening. i really just...want to be friends again.” he looked up at you with sad eyes and you could tell he meant it.

and as much as you appreciated his apology and his honesty, you couldn’t just let him off the hook. “you really hurt me, marco. i get it, okay? crushes can make you do crazy things, but i told you that she had a boyfriend. you knew that and you still decided that she was worth risking our friendship over. while you were off dancing with elle, i was losing my best friend.”

“i know. and i’m so sorry. you’re right, i should’ve backed off the minute you told me that. but i really thought...” his voice trailed off and he shook his head. “but it’s not. and that’s done okay? she’s made it pretty clear i’m not the one she wants. and i hate that it took this for us to finally talk again, but i really just want to get back to the way we were.”

you smiled. “i want that too. and of course i’m upset but i can’t say i wouldn’t have jumped at an opportunity to hang out with someone i liked as well.”

“so?” he looked hopeful.

you laughed and stood. “so...marco valentin peña, you are officially forgiven.”

he smiled and stood up as well, pulling you into a hug. wrapping your arms around his waist, you squeezed him tightly as he did the same to you. you stayed like that for a moment before heading back into the fair. and just like that, the two of you were good again.

over the next few weeks, you and marco started hanging out again, he returned to your lunch table, and of course the two of you screwed up more labs than you could count. and over those few weeks, marco was getting over elle and he couldn’t help but think about you. the way you said his name, how you grabbed onto him whenever you were excited about something, your kind heart, and he especially couldn’t stop thinking about when you hugged him.

due to his height, his whole body ended to engulf you hen the two of you hugged, but you loved it. and you were an affectionate hugger. he wished he was the only one who received your hugs became they always made him feel so comfortable and at home. and when you let go, there have been more than a few times when he would pull you back in saying just a little longer. and you would laugh and snuggle yourself further into his chest. and there was nothing better than that feeling.

he really liked you. and he couldn’t believe he had wasted all that time on someone already in a relationship when you were right in front of him. so one day when you were at his house studying for your upcoming physics test, he decided to short his shot. sitting beside you at the dining table, he put his notebook down and turned his attention to you.

“hey, so y/n.” he said, his voice shaking a bit.

“mm?” you said, not looking up from the flash cards you were making.

“i, uh–” he cleared his throat. “i had a question.”

“shoot.” you said, highlighting the important information in your notes that you would copy onto your flash cards.

“um, do you–i mean, would want to go out with me? like, on a date?”

you paused your highlighting and slowly turned to face him. “i thought your question was going to be about physics...”

marco let out a short laugh. “yeah, well.” he just shrugged. when you didn’t say anything else, he got nervous. “is that a no? did i just make this weird? i definitely did, didn’t i?”

now it was your turn to laugh. “no, no, it’s fine. um, i would like to go on a date with you, really.” his face lights up but then dims again at your next words. “i just–i just don’t want to be your rebound from elle.”

“i can promise you right now, that is far from what you are. elle is in the past, i promise. i really like you, and i’ve just been too much of an idiot to see it. but you are not a rebound, y/n.”

“really?” he nodded. “because i really like you, marco. like, a lot.” you laugh and so does he.

he reached across the table and took your hand in his. “well that’s good to know.”

you watched as your hands intertwined, his hand squeezing yours lightly and you smiled. you looked back up at him.

“so yes, i would love to go out with you.” you said with a grin.

“perfect.” he whispered, leaning in.

you smiled and turned your head at the last moment, so that his lips touched your cheek. you felt his lips curve into a smile against your skin and he kissed your cheek again.

“physics first.” you said when he pulled away. “we do still have a test you know.”

you slid your finished flash cards over to him and he bit his lip, shaking his head. he took them, glancing over at you again.

“since when are you all about the work?” he asked.

“since we’ve almost failed every single one of our labs and need a good grade on this test.” you said teasingly.

“touché.” marco said, tuning back to his work.

but as soon as that last definition was memorized, marco took you by the hand, leading you to the doorway from the kitchen to the living room where a mistletoe hung. the peñas had decorated the house for christmas together but you could guarantee that this one had been marco’s idea.

you could only smile as he cupped your face in his hands, leaning down to meet your lips. you stop on your tiptoes to meet him in the middle and when your lips touched you felt the butterflies burst in your stomach. this boy you’ve had a crush on liked you back and now you were kissing him under the mistletoe. the thought made you smile and marco noticed.

“what’s got you so smiley?” he murmurs against your lips.

“marco peña is kissing me.” you said in response and pressed another kiss to his lips. “what’s not to smile about?”

a/n: idk about y’all but the best friendships for me came out of science labs, they are so funny for some reason.

taglist: @devilishdior @write-from-the-heart @minnyvees @lover1307 @sonnyalice @caro1115 @psg-for-life @mansaaay @thebookwormlife

[captainimprobable]

Part 3 of that thing I’ve been posting.  This is a first draft, once it’s edited I’ll put it on Ao3.  There will be five parts! Part1  Part 2  ~~

Amity has a plan.

She knows her girlfriend likes meaningful gestures, especially when it’s about something important.  So as she signs her name at the bottom of the pink paper, she wills herself not to be nervous.  She’s doing everything right, she knows, and besides, it’s Luz.  Luz is understanding and generous.  She’ll love this. 

(Amity hopes.)

Walking to school the next day is torture, and she’s brought back to a similar morning a few months ago, when she was clutching paper from the same notebook she used today.  She didn’t go through with it then, but everything is different now.  Luz will say yes.

So why can’t she stop shaking?

She walks into the building and immediately spots Luz.  Her stomach flips itself over, as usual, and she nervously walks over to her girlfriend.   

“Amity! I missed you!”  Luz sees her and runs over, catching her up in a hug.  Amity tries not to swoon.  

“Luz, I saw you yesterday,” Amity says, smiling as she’s picked up and swayed a little.  

Luz pouts as she puts Amity down.  “Yeah, but that was a long time ago,” she mumbles.  She looks down at the ground, and her eyebrows scrunch together.

“Oh wait,” she says, stooping down and picking something up.  “You dropped this.”

It’s the pink paper.  Amity wants to die.  “WAIT,” she says loudly, startling a couple of other kids down the hall, “DON’T LOOK AT THAT.”

She grabs the paper and then stops.  Wait.  Things are different now. 

“Actually,” she says, with as much composure as she can muster after an outburst like that, “this is for you.”

She holds out the pink paper. And Luz. Takes it.

If Luz recognizes the type of paper the note is written on, she doesn’t mention it.  Amity is shaking as Luz opens the note, inspecting every single change in Luz’s face, anticipating a possible rejection. 

But instead, Luz’s face morphs into a huge smile, and she turns the paper over so Amity can see the words she’s written.

“Luz, will you go on a date with me?”  

 There’s color high in Luz’s cheeks as she asks “Really?”

“Of course really,” Amity scoffs, her entire body relaxing at Luz’s reaction. 

“Ohmygosh of course I will!!!!!  Where are we going? What are we doing? Can we-”

Amity holds up a hand to stop Luz’s train of thought.  “I have it all planned out,” she says proudly.  “All you have to do is show up.”

 Luz smiles, the crinkles at the corners of her eyes getting deeper as she does.  “Of course you do,” she says.  “I’ll be there!”

~

Amity had thought she was nervous yesterday, but that’s nothing compared to today.

 Edric and Emira are trying to help calm her down, but they’re somehow making it worse.  “I’m sure she’s gonna have a great time,” Ed says sincerely, nodding to himself.  “Unless….she doesn’t,” he adds.  

 Emira hits her twin on the arm.  “Ed, not helping,” she scolds, and puts her hands on Amity’s shoulders.  “First dates are scary, but this is Luz.  You could take her to the dump and she’d thank you.”

 “I’m terrified,” Amity confesses to her sister.  

 “Don’t be!”

 “Thanks, Em, suddenly I’m totally fine.”

 “Glad I could help,” Emira winks.  “Now go get your girl.”

~

It’s time for her date with Luz.  Well, actually, it’s an hour before her date with Luz, but she’s leaving now anyway because she likes to be punctual.  

 As it turns out, she doesn’t have a lot of time to be nervous, because when she opens the door to leave Blight Manor, Luz is standing there with flowers.

 “Hi,” Luz says excitedly, laughing a little at the look on Amity’s face.  “These are for you.  I got you purple ones because they match your hair!”

 “You’re early,” is all Amity manages to say.  She takes the flowers from Luz and their fingers touch.  Normally, this wouldn’t be such a big deal anymore, but knowing they’re about to go on an actual date makes everything feel a little different.  Amity tries not to jump.

 “Yeah,” Luz says, hands behind her back.  “But I know you, and I knew you’d be early, so here I am!”

 Suddenly Amity feels like crying.  Being known isn’t something she ever thought she would get to experience.  Being known this well was never even a thought.  She is so, so lucky.

 She blinks the tears away and manages to direct a smile at her girlfriend.  “Thanks,” she says.  “I love them.”

 Luz beams.  Amity still marvels over the way Luz’s expressions are so open and extreme.  She’s smiling with her entire body, somehow, exuding so much happiness just because Amity liked the flowers.  

 “So you have an idea?” Luz asks.  

 “Oh, yeah!” Amity says.  “I have the perfect plan.”

~

Amity watches Luz’s face stealthily out of the corner of her eye the entire way through Bonesborough.  They’re holding hands, and it feels like magic, but Amity is so nervous that Luz won’t enjoy what she’s planned that she can barely appreciate it.  Luz looks unbothered, though, swinging their hands between them happily as she chatters on about something King did earlier in the day.  Normally, Amity would be paying rapt attention, but today she’s a little too wound up.

 “Okay, here we are” Amity says nervously, watching  Luz’s face carefully for any sign of rejection.

 Luz looks up and gasps.  “A bookstore?????? I didn’t even know there was a bookstore here!”

 “Yeah,” Amity says shyly.  “I just thought...well, the first thing we really bonded over was Azura, so I figured maybe we could wander and…” She trails off.

 Luz is jumping up and down on the balls of her feet.  “Yes! I’ve always wanted to go on a bookstore date! I wonder what kind of weirdness a Boiling Isles bookstore has! Unless it’s just, like, a normal bookstore.  Which would be disappointing but still cool!”  She grins and pulls on Amity’s hand.  “Cmon, let’s go!”

~

It’s going well, she thinks.  Luz looks like she’s having fun as she pulls book after book off the shelf, commenting on them each before putting them back.

 “I’ve been wondering about the Azura books,” Luz says at one point.  “Like, how come we get them in the human realm and the Boiling Isles? How is that possible?”  Luz scratches her head.  “Maybe the author is from here and somehow managed to get their books to my realm? Maybe they’ve got a really good publicist? Or maybe they’re human and their books accidentally made it here somehow, like, maybe Eda brought one back one day and someone bought it and-”  Luz stops.  “Oh my gosh, Amity, do you think Eda is responsible for the circulation of the Azura books on the Boiling Isles???”

 Amity considers that.  

 “You know, I haven’t really met any other people who like these books,” she says.  “I always wondered why they weren’t more popular.”  Her eyes widen, realization dawning.  “What if I’m the only one? What if Eda sold them to the bookstore and I bought them and-”

 “Woah,” Luz says.  “That is some crazy coincidence.”

 “Well,” Amity says bravely.  “Guess it just means we were always meant to be.”

 She gets a bright red Luz as a reward for her nerve, and she smirks.  It’s fun to make Luz nervous.  Knowing she has that effect on her makes her so happy.  

 Luz doesn’t say anything, just reaches out a hand for Amity’s.  Amity gets it.  Sometimes holding Luz’s hand is the only thing that makes sense.

 “Oh no way,” comes a voice from behind them.  Amity’s heart sinks.  Oh no, not now, why now, why here, why-

 They turn around and Boscha comes into view, scrutinizing their linked hands.  “You’re actually dating the human.  Wow.  I thought that was a rumor, like, one so ridiculous it couldn’t even be true.”  She smirks.  “And yet here you are.”

 Amity can feel Luz stiffen next to her, and she’s suddenly filled with rage.  Luz escaped her world to avoid being made fun of, she shouldn’t have to deal with that here, too.

 Amity raises her chin and looks Boscha in the eye.  “Aw, what’s wrong, Boscha, jealous that nobody wants to hang out with you?”  She looks around pointedly.  “Looks like you’re alone, huh?  Has everyone finally realized what a monster you are?”

 Boscha’s face turns a shade of pink darker than her hair.  “I’m not alone,” she spits.  “I came here by myself on purpose.  It’s exhausting, having followers all the time.”

 “Sure,” Amity says, turning to leave.  “Come on Luz, let’s-”

 “Can’t believe she went and got a girlfriend from another species,” Amity hears Boscha mutter under her breath.  And then, a little louder, clearly intending to be heard- “Guess shopping at the bottom of the barrel is easier than finding someone normal.”

 Amity stops.  She’s gripping Luz’s hand so hard it’s probably starting to hurt a little, but she can’t help it.  Luz seems to sense the storm coming, and she scrambles to stop it.  “Amity, it’s okay, let’s just go-”

 But Amity is done.  Done with Boscha and her stupid games, done with everyone making fun of Luz for things she can’t control, done with her girlfriend being treated lesser than because she wasn’t born a witch.

 She releases Luz’s hand, whirls around, and says, quiet as the dead, “Say that again.”

 Boscha seems to realize she went a little too far this time, but she’s not one to back down.  “What are you gonna do, Amity? Hex me? You don’t have the-”

 Before she can finish her sentence, Amity’s fingers are twirling in circles and Boscha is on the ground, angry hives crawling up and down her body.

 A security guard comes over, looking bored.  He gives Boscha a glance, unimpressed.  “Miss,” he says to Amity.  “I’m gonna have to ask you to go.”

 “Don’t worry about it,” Amity says.  “We were just leaving.”

~

Amity thinks her hands might be clenched permanently, now.  The anger (coiling, rampant, hot to the touch) she’s feeling isn’t new, but it’s somehow louder now, a line of static in her ears so loud that she doesn’t hear Luz calling her name until the third time.

 “Amity!”

Amity blinks herself out of her stupor and remembers, suddenly: she’s supposed to be on a date.  A date with her cute girlfriend.  A date that she messed up by getting them kicked out of a store.

 She knew she’d mess this up somehow.

 “Amity, are you okay?”

 Luz is looking at her with concern in her eyes, and Amity doesn’t deserve it.  She doesn’t deserve any of this.  She’s ruined everything.

 “I’m sorry,” she mumbles, not looking Luz in the eye.  She’d understand if Luz dumped her over this.

 “For what?” Luz asks sincerely, and Amity looks up in confusion.  “Um, for ruining our date?”

 Luz raises her eyebrows.  “How exactly did you ruin it?”

 “I hexed Bosca, I got us kicked out of the bookstore, I-”

 “What I’m hearing,” Luz says, taking Amity’s hand again, “Is that you got angry on my behalf and defended me from a bully”

 “But I got us kicked out of the store!” Amity insists.  She feels like she owes it to Luz to admit what a screw up she is, but Luz isn’t having it.

 “No, Boscha got us kicked out of the store.  Besides, it’s no big deal, we were basically done anyway.”

 This isn’t right.  She knows she should be happy that Luz isn’t blaming her, but something inside her insists that Luz needs to know, that Luz needs to understand that Amity messed up and will probably mess up again, that she had everything planned out perfectly and it went nothing like it was supposed to and Luz should probably break up with her and-

 “Break up with you?????” Luz sounds scandalized, and Amity realizes: she said everything out loud.  

 “You think I would break up with you over this?”

 “I..I don’t know,” Amity says, closing her eyes as though that will make her disappear.  “Maybe.”

 “Amity, I-I don’t like you because you’re perfect.  You’re only human- I mean, you’re a person, and people make mistakes, and that’s okay! I make mistakes all the time! Just today I missed a step and fell down the stairs.  It happens!”

 She takes Amity’s other hand and looks her in the eyes.  “You’re perfect to me.  But not because you never mess up.  Because you’re kind, and funny, and beautiful, and you do things like hex bullies because they make fun of me.  I don’t need the perfect date, Amity.  I just need you.”

 Amity is speechless.  Nobody has ever said anything like that to her.  She remembers what she told Hunter in that cave all those months ago: I grew up thinking everything was an opportunity to justify existing.  But there are people out there who won’t make you feel worthless.  You just have to let yourself meet them.

 It’s time she took her own advice.

 “Thank you,” she says quietly, smiling shyly.  “You’re the best girlfriend a girl could ask for.”

 “No, you are!” Luz says earnestly, and Amity realizes that, if she had the courage, she could kiss Luz right then and there.

 She doesn’t, of course, but now that it’s in her head, she’s not going to forget about it anytime soon.