#I just can’t resist puns

[t1gerlilly]

What kind of music do posh furries listen to? .... Fur Elise, of course.

bodega catgirl

[kingofmyborrowedheart]

i’ve been wondering how you make swiftlet- do you listen to taylor’s entire discography for each episode or do you just listen like normal and take notes when something you want to discuss comes up?

Hi Miles! So Swiftlit started out as my senior capstone project for college. I chose to write about expanding the literary canon in higher education and using music as a way to enter into analysis and I specifically used Taylor’s music as an example. For my creative piece I decided to write podcast scripts combining literary theory and Taylor’s music, so the Feminist Theories, reputation and Characters episodes were the pieces I wrote for it. I just expanded on them for the actual podcast and separated the rep bits from the Characters one and turned them into two episodes. For the other episodes if there’s a holiday coming up I try to think of some theme related to it I could center an episode around. Before actually starting the podcast, I jotted down some potential episode ideas of parallels that particularly strike me in her works and I’ve just been bouncing around that list. I don’t tend to actively seek out an idea, although one might hit me when I’m listening to her music. I’m just kind of aware of the parallels and common themes she writes about thanks to listening for so long and my background in Creative Writing and literary analysis. I’ve been “trained” to search for connections and themes in all kinds of work so it just kinda happens with hers too. I do have a big lyric document that I go through and search for key words if doing a Marvelous Motif episode to help me out; though this time I went song by song to make sure I didn’t miss anything. To sum up this long rant: I essentially just have too much Taylor knowledge floating around in my head that I call on and see if I can find a decent amount of connections with other songs to get an episode out of.

[charliemwrites]

A Thought™️ that I had yesterday after watching those AITA videos and babbling in the discord:

(This is also babble to be clear. I’ve been writing this throughout the morning so it might be a bit incoherent)

The 141 is shopping for a new team member, someone to round out their four person squad into five. They have a dozen candidates, pick one that looks promising, and transfer him over under the military equivalent of “probationary” status.

Pretty quickly they decide his personality alone might not make him a good fit but whatever, if he’s good at his job, they’ll suck it up. The “alpha male” posturing bullshit is kind of amusing in the meantime at least.

Well, first mission comes and goes. The guy isn’t too bad, honestly — apart from almost picking a fight with Gaz. Skills-wise he’s as advertised, so he gets to stay a bit longer while the 141 decides if they can stand him.

Post successful mission, though, they go out for drinks at the guy’s insistence. He invites his girlfriend — who he dragged along with him — to the bar to meet his new squad. (Because he thinks there’s no way they’re not making him a permanent teammate.)

And the 141 may be barely tolerant of him, but they decide almost instantly that they adore his girlfriend. She’s incredibly charming and bubbly, doesn’t even blink at Ghost’s mask. One of the first things she does is thank them for the opportunity they’re giving her boyfriend and for keeping him alive.

Which is about the time the real issue starts.

The boyfriend says some rubbish about “an alpha doesn’t need protecting, he does the protecting. He looks out for his pack.”

And you smile a bit awkwardly, looking embarrassed, and try to usher the conversation along.

It doesn’t take long for him to quickly fall out of what little favor he accrued. You’re a bright spot in their group, laughing and chatting with them all like you’ve known them for years. Incredibly sensitive to asking any hard questions and sort of forcing the conversation through the weird patches where your boyfriend interjects with some inane comment.

Eventually, your boyfriend gets sick of your chattering and tells you to fetch them more drinks. Soap instantly sits up, saying you don’t have to do that, but you gently wave him off. Chirp that you don’t mind doing it as a thank you for their service, and weave into the crowd.

The table goes uncomfortable quiet — apart from your boyfriend, who makes some ghastly comment about how you have a pretty face but an annoying laugh. When you get back, drinks expertly balanced in your hands, Ghost goes out of his way to drop puns that get you giggling like mad.

As the night ticks later, and your boyfriend gets drunker, he reaches the point you always dread.

“Garrick, le’s arm wrestle.”

“Baby, I don’t think that’s…”

“This is between us men.”

You groan a bit and sit back. Gaz looks befuddled but shrugs and agrees. It’s not even a contest; your boyfriend’s arm is flat to the table in all of ten seconds. Flustered, your boyfriend demands a rematch. And when he loses again, scoffs and demands a go with Soap.

You practically sink deeper and deeper into your seat before the secondhand embarrassment starts to weigh and you have to excuse yourself to the restroom. When you get back, the impromptu arm wrestling seems to be over, though your boyfriend is sulking in his corner of the booth.

When you gingerly slide back in, Price nudges you with his calf.

“Would you like a go, luv?”

You grin and shake your head. “I don’t fancy a broken wrist, Captain.”

“C’mon luv, you might surprise yourself,” he teases and you can’t resist the playful glint in his eye.

So you lock your thumb around his, elbow on the table, and push. And his arm incrementally goes down… down… down…

“Well would you look at that,” he muses.

You burst into laughter, flattered and endeared by his indulgence.

“That tough, eh?” Soap muses, arching an eyebrow. “Let’s see it, then.”

So you roll your eyes, fully expecting to get trounced. But just like with Price, he starts to relent when you put up resistance, making a show of straining and panting as he “loses.” When you’ve won, you finally play into the joke.

“Serves you right,” you tease.

By your side, you hear your boyfriend huff derisively. “Oh, come on.”

Before your fun can be ruined, though, Ghost is offering you his hand, dark eyes sparkling. You bite your lip, but it doesn’t hide your grin as you accept the unspoken challenge. His hand is huge around yours, but shockingly gentle. He goes down easiest of all, whistling in amazement.

“Look’it that, you’re a pro,” he says, “think we should all be buying you a drink.”

“She doesn’t drink,” your boyfriend interjects.

You huff and settle back into the booth. “Maybe some other time, Lieutenant Riley?”

“Count on it.”

You get into an argument with your boyfriend that night. He thinks you were “challenging his dominance” and “stirring the pot,” trying to sew discord and strife amongst the men to get them fighting over you. He says something about being the alpha of the group and that he would win but it’s insulting to him as your “provider” that you would question his authority.

He’s tipsy as he says it though, working himself up. You just follow the usual routine of soothing, reassuring, simpering — and then considering leaving when he’s finally asleep. But you’re far from home, don’t have the means to leave, and besides, you won’t be finding any support from your family on this front so…

Well, it’s not so bad, you remind yourself. He can be an asshole, but so can you and it takes two to fight. Besides, he only gets really bad when he’s been drinking and that’s only once a week? 1 out of 7 isn’t a bad ratio.

—

The 141 pretty much collectively decide that they adore you though. You get regularly invited to team outings, wherein your boyfriend keeps challenging (and losing) arm wrestling, while the boys coax you into “winning.”

They’ve also become rather adamant that you don’t bring them drinks anymore.

“You’re not our personal beer wench, yeah? We’re able to get our own pints,” Gaz soothes.

Your boyfriend chuckles and shakes his head, imparts his “wisdom” that it’s a female’s job to serve her man and his friends. As a sign of respect or something. You know it’s not an argument worth having and just sip at your drink in silence.

But you love going out with them. Love knowing the men keeping your boyfriend alive and they’re a good bunch. Respectful and funny and disciplined — you’re kind of hoping they snap your boyfriend out of this weird “alpha male” phase he’s been going through. On the other hand, you’re thrilled to be making something like friends. Sure, your boyfriend has made it clear that the 141 are his friends, but they’re always so conscious of keeping you involved and comfortable.

Then one night your boyfriend mentions what a “good little cook” you are and that instantly has all the boys perking up. Smiling, you offer to host during the Saturday League matches. They gleefully accept over your boyfriend’s protests about other men in his territory or something like that.

But when they do come over they’re horrified by the unspoken expectations. You tell them to sit, that you’ll bring them all drinks, with snacks on the way. They’ll be having none of it.

Ghost helps you with drinks, Gaz chops the veggies for snacks (and dinner). Soap pops in to keep you company while you babysit simmering pots. Price helps to tidy as you go, despite you’re fussing that he really doesn’t need to, he should be enjoying the games!

They end up spending more time with you in the kitchen than out in the den with their own teammate. You barely notice, swept up in the busy currents of playing hostess. When your boyfriend shouts that he needs another beer, you come back to find Price getting plates and utensils for dinner. It’s so thoughtful you could cry.

Even worse is when they help you clean up afterwards. Each of them taking and clearing their own plates. Soap on washing big dishes, Gaz on drying. Ghost is packing up leftovers. Price is turning over the dishwasher, asking you where dishes go and tutting when you insist you should be helping.

All the while, your boyfriend stands in the doorway telling you all the ways you could improve the meal next time. And how you definitely ate too much for your body size, etc.

He only stops when Price makes a pointed comment about standing around looking pretty.

When they leave, they each sweep you up in a hug and drop a kiss on your cheek, praising your home and cooking and hosting. Soap promises that he’ll get you a little souvenir on their next mission as a thank you.

And sure enough, three weeks later, the boys are coming by. Except your boyfriend is nowhere to be found — out with some other guys from the base that he says he hit it off with. The 141 insist that he agreed to a football watch again, the empty headed muppet.

And of course you’re not going to turn them away! They’ve brought you flowers, a little matryoshka set from their last mission, chocolates and wine. Not one of them is empty handed.

“Do you even like the game?” Gaz asks as you put it on.

“My favorite team isn’t playing until tomorrow but I don’t mind watching,” you answer, shrugging.

But somehow no football is watched at all. Instead they convince you to tell them your top three favorite movies, then claim none of them have ever seen any of them and they have to watch all of them.

Which is how your boyfriend finds his whole team enjoying a little movie marathon with you. You’re on the ground with Johnny (it’s Johnny now, for you) doing his eyebrows. Gaz is braiding your hair. Ghost (Simon) is sharing a bowl of candies with you. You’re sat against Price’s shins, the captain sitting in your boyfriend’s chair, lounging like a king.

When you welcome him back, telling him the boys are staying the night, he tries to throw a fit about it. How dare you let four strange men stay alone with you?! You calmly remind him that he promised he’d be home by 11 and it’s already nearly 1. And besides, he trusts them with his life, you’re allowed to trust them to be polite in your own home.

With all four of his teammates watching, tense and nearly hostile, he mutters something about being tired and storms off to bed. You end up falling asleep on the couch with ghost despite yourself.

And your boyfriend becomes absolutely haunted by his team’s (is it even his team? It feels more like yours!) affection for you.

They always invite you out even if he doesn’t plan to invite you. (When did you get any of their numbers?! Never mind Ghost’s. He doesn’t even have Ghost’s number.)

They stop by the flat constantly, sometimes dropping in. Other times staying for hours. Soap tells him that they’re all one big family; that includes you. (“Alright then why don’t we go hang out with one of your girlfriends?!” He had an actual nightmare about the laughter that gets him.)

And the fucking gifts. It’s not just soap bringing you things anymore. It’s all of them. Magnets, mugs, sweets, pretty rocks. Just garbage to your boyfriend but you treat it all like treasure. They’ve even got you sending them on hunts for specific things. Something blue, something with nuts, something with the flag.

Then there’s the base.

They bring you on one day — Price picks you up, the boys greet you at the barracks with coffee and breakfast. You’re put into a big 141 hoodie that says “Riley” on the back and toured around. You’re supposed to be “surprising” your boyfriend, but he’s busy with recruits and generally seems uninterested in being around you.

Not to worry though, the 141 is happy to show you a good time around base! Gaz and Johnny walk you through one of the obstacle courses, Simon lets you sit on his back for pushups during the last of his workout. Price takes you to the range and shows you the basics of shooting, then lets you catnap through the adrenaline drop in his office.

Your boyfriend only bothers to find you when Johnny and Simon are teaching you basic self-defense. Your boyfriend scoffs that you’re plenty protected by him, but you point out that he’s away too often to be of any real help — at which point Johnny tags you and bolts before your boyfriend can get all up in arms.

You only recognize that this little hurdle in your relationship has become a chasm when something happens. A big argument with your parents over the phone — you barely even remember what about. But instead of calling your boyfriend afterwards, your first call is to Gaz. (Because you know he’s the most likely to be free and paying attention to his phone.) You’re almost shocked when he picks up on the second ring. Your boyfriend has never answered on the first call.

When you try to explain through poorly-restrained tears, he coos at you to find a warm coffee shop and that they’ll be right there. “They” ends up being him and Johnny, since Simon and Price are locked up in an important meeting. They buy you hot chocolate and pastries while you vent to them, and end up leaving feeling better for once.

But you can’t break up with your boyfriend. Because if you do, the 141 will surely stop hanging out with you, and you value their company enough to put up with it.

At least until you come home one day to find all your little gifts gone. When you ask through a tight throat where everything is, your boyfriend says he was just making space. That you’ve been complaining that you two need a bigger flat, but now he’s solved the problem without wasting money.

You actually raise your voice for once, throwing an entire fit because this. This is the last straw. You storm into your bedroom, slam and lock the door, and call the 141.

A small part of you expects they’ll take his side or something. But nope. Simon soothes you on the other end, that the whole squad will be there in fifteen and to pack your stuff.

You do so while Price takes over and keeps you level. Reminds you of essentials to pack and explains that you’ll be coming to stay at his place, since he’s got off-base housing. It’ll be quiet and cozy and safe while you recover.

Five minutes away, they promise to be right there and end the call.

You could absolutely scream when your boyfriend — ex boyfriend — starts banging on the door. Demanding that you open the door to him. That you’re being over dramatic and blowing everything out of proportion. Using the “your emotional and irrational” line that you’ve heard a thousand times and are just about sick of.

Your heart stutters with relief when you hear the knocking at the apartment door, confused silence as your ex goes to see who it is. You take that moment to slip out, packed suitcase in hand.

You startle a bit at some commotion, round the corner to see your ex’s shirt bunched up in Johnny’s fists, looking ready kill him. No one seems inclined to pull him away; neither are you.

“How are you holding up, luv?” Gaz asks gently as Simon takes your bag.

“Been better,” you admit, sniffling as Price wraps you up in a hug.

“It was just things, luv,” he soothes, “we’ll get you a million more, if you like.”

You pull back to give him a miserable look. “But they were my things and they didn’t have to go anywhere. He just threw them out.”

Johnny snarls something out, but Gaz is already ushering you out the door. You tell your family about the break up through text and then shut off your phone, bundled into the backseat of an SUV with Gaz in the backseat. Price is in the front, all of you waiting for Simon and Johnny to come down.

“What now?” you ask quietly.

“Well, about time we cut that knob loose,” Price muses. “But that’s not your problem anymore.”

“Oh…

“And you, luv.” He looks at you through the rear view. “You get whatever you want.”

[soaps-mohawk]

Pretty Boy

Kyletober Day 1: Mirror Sex

Summary: You can’t help but smile back, your stomach fluttering as you stare at him in the mirror, at that pretty face. Your pretty boy.

Pairing: Kyle x Fem!reader

Word Count: 810 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, mirror sex, pegging, handjob, language, very light Dom/sub dynamics

A/N: And we start off Kyletober with a bang (pun intended). I didn't intend for this to be a pegging fic but I can't help myself, the dommy mommy came out. Anyway, enjoy yourselves and remember, we are here to have fun and praise our Lord and savior Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick

MASTERLIST

“Fuck...” 

It’s long and drawn out and so needy sounding. 

It makes your pussy clench. 

Your hands smooth over soft skin, fingers curling into the dip of his hips. His back arches, his muscles flexing and contracting beautifully in front of you. It’s like he’s been chiseled out of marble, each dip and curve perfectly sculpted. 

The muscles of his arms flex as he pushes against the wall, his head tilting back. He looks wrecked already. Lips parted, eyes squeezed closed, a bead of sweat sliding down the side of his face. You want to lick it, but you have more important matters at hand. 

His head drops down with a gasp, drooping between his arms. You tsk, bringing your hand down against one pert ass cheek. The sound of skin cracking against skin is loud over the sound of his labored breaths and quiet groans.

“Fuck,” he breathes, his head shooting back up. 

“Eyes on me, pretty boy.” You say, meeting that honeyed gaze in the mirror. 

His lips part again as he keeps eye contact with you through the mirror. Your hands move to his hips again, fingers sinking into his skin as you begin to rock your hips. Soft, breathy moans leave his lips as you work the dildo into his ass completely. You can feel the way he clenches around it from the resistance you get pulling back. 

“Give it to me,” He nearly whines as you pull back, breathing heavily as he stares at you in the mirror. 

“You want it?” You ask, sinking back into him slowly. 

He nods, already panting and you’ve barely fucked him. “Please, please,” 

You grip his hips tighter, drawing your hips back until just the tip is inside of him. “Okay. You asked for it.” 

You push your hips forward as hard as you can, sliding the dildo back in until your hips are pressed against his ass. His arms buckle where they hold him up against the wall, his face nearly smashing against the mirror. You pull his hips back, trying to guide him away from the mirror so he doesn’t get hurt. His muscles flex again as he fights to hold himself up while you begin to thrust into his ass. 

Your gaze is still on his face in the mirror, those pretty features contorted in pleasure. Even being fucked he’s still pretty, your pretty boy. Your perfect man. Even the way he moans is pretty, all needy and breathy. 

“Oh, fuck!” He gasps as you grind your hips against his ass, pushing the dildo as deep as you can. “Fuckin, feels so good babe.” 

“Yeah?” You smirk, reaching down to squeeze his balls. “You like that?” 

His knees start to shake as you massage his balls, your thrusts getting shallower as you angle the dildo down. “Yes!” He almost yelps, his eyes rolling back. “Right there. Fuck-don’t stop!” 

You grip his hips for leverage as you thrust your hips down, pushing the dildo right against that spot over and over. He’s close already, you can see the way he’s tensing, legs locking. His eyes are squeezed closed but you don’t care, the mirror is more for you than him anyway. You want to watch his face, and you want to watch yourself fuck him. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” The word leaves his lips like a mantra as his head tilts back, his ass pressing back against you as he trembles. 

You fold your body over his, gripping his shoulders as you snap your hips against his. You’re getting tired, your muscles starting to ache from the exertion. Your stamina is nowhere near his, but thankfully he never lasts very long in this position. 

You wrap your arms around his middle, one hand sliding down to grip his cock. His hips buck against your hand as you begin to pump his length, his moans getting deeper and deeper as he throbs in your hand. He’s close, so very close. You snap your hips against his ass as you work his cock with your hand, both moving in sync. 

He lets out a long groan, his body jerking against yours as he cums, leaking his release all over your hand. He’s still breathing heavily, your hand slowing on his cock until he starts to go soft in your hand. You press a soft kiss against his back, as you relax against him, your dildo still seated in his ass. He lifts his head, meeting your gaze in the mirror.

“Fuck me,” He breathes, shaking out his arms one at a time. 

“I think I just did.” You grin, pressing another soft kiss to his skin. 

You can’t help but smile back, your stomach fluttering as you stare at him in the mirror, at that pretty face. Your pretty boy.

“Yeah,” He chuckles, giving you a dazzling smile. “You did.” 

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[glossysoap]

Ima just toss this; imagine the guys, each alone with their girls, and aphrodisiac chocolate.

Which of the men are first to crack?

mmmmm

afab and fem reader. (readers cunt is referred to as ‘she’ once i think)

soap for sure i think. he’s such a horny rat and quite frankly, i think his need for you far outweighs his need to beat the other boys. he’s yanking his pants off and fisting it before you know it. getting it all chubbed up and ready to slip inside your cunt. “oh, hen. y’ know i cannae resist yer pretty pussy. contest be damned”

gaz i think would tease you, try and get you to crack first. he’d walk around either half naked or full on naked, doing casual tasks around the house so you’re forced to see his cock right in front of you. at the most, he’d jack off while you masturbated - excusing it with “it’s not cheatin if we don’t touch each other”

price and simon would have the hardest resolve (pun intended). they would hiss at the feeling of their cocks staining against their pants but they are not looking at your scantily clad form. if you’re wearing lingerie to tease them, they curse under their breath and go to another room. when they finally crack? woof.

“had just about enough of you teasin’ me. gonna take this fuckin’ cunt till she can’t take it anymore.” price.

“think you’re so smart walkin’ ‘round here with your cunt damn near on display? won’t be able to walk much after this.” simon.

[abbyshands]

SPENCER’S!ELLIE

⋆𐙚₊˚ content warning: 18+, fem!reader implied, sub!reader, dom!ellie, vibrator usage, the back of spencer’s just says it all, abby feature, praise, use of baby, reader wears glasses

⋆𐙚₊˚ READ THIS FIRST. | LINKS FOR PALESTINE | DAILY CLICK

⋆𐙚₊˚ MASTERLIST

oh, nothing, just thinking about spencer’s!ellie who’s seen many girls in your place before, but could have sworn you shouldn’t have been in a store like this. like, really shouldn’t have been. your friends had dared you to give the store a browse because allegedly, you were too innocent. ellie’s quickly drawn to you in that cute skirt and glasses, clutching your messenger bag like a lost puppy. and quickly, she’s drawn to you, the first to say “welcome to spencer’s” when you walk in.

spencer’s!ellie whose best friend and coworker, abby anderson, bets you’ve never even seen a dildo before. spencer’s!ellie whose best friend and coworker, abby anderson, is right.

spencer’s!ellie who finally walks up to you browsing the back of the store, looking like you met the devil in the flesh. “you good back here?” she’d ask you, causing you to jump out of your head and back into the present. nervously, you nod. “what? yes. yes, i’m fine. just fine,” but it’s a lie. you’re here wondering if human anatomy even allows for most of these toys to in fit any holes of the body. spencer’s!ellie, who you ask to recommend you a product, that’s according to you, “small,” and “tame.” she chuckled at how shy you seemed to make the request. “like a vibrator, baby?” she asked, like it was common knowledge, like everyone knows vibrators were always the answer. she shows you one, a small blue bullet that seems easy enough to use, but dumbly, you ask, “so it just, does the work for me?”

spencer’s!ellie who can’t miss this chance. “oh, baby. maybe i should give you a little tutorial,” and of course, you agree, because who wouldn’t want those emerald eyes on their own while getting fucked with a vibrator? “come with me.”

spencer’s!ellie who ended up shoving you into a closet in the backroom of the store, sat on a chair, skirt pulled up as she rubbed the vibrator in slow, delicious motions over your aching clit. ellie’s hand was over your mouth, shushing you so you were inaudible. “shhh, be quiet, baby. you don’t want people to hear, do you?” she asks, her voice a whisper as she carries on with her work, causing you to shake your head. “good girl.”

spencer’s!ellie who pushes the vibrator inside you just for fun, nearly laughing at the way you nearly shriek. “fuck, you are such a slut, aren’t you, baby? yeah, you like the way it feels inside you, huh?”spencer’s!ellie who’s wet at the whines and whimpers leaving your lips as your hips rock forward, her hand having fallen at this point to let you speak, because it was too hard to resist. “that’t it, attagirl. being so quiet for me, even when it feels so good. dyin’ to scream my name, aren’t you?” spencer’s!ellie who single handedly (pun intended) has you coming in the backroom of a fucking spencer’s. “you gonna come for me, baby? yeah, fuck, baby, c’mon, make a mess on my fuckin’ hand.”

everybody thank @sugarevans and our unhinged ft call yesterday for this <3

[sluttywonwoo]

no nut november — lee know (winner)

pairing: lee minho x fem!reader

warnings: swearing, smut (18+ mdni), oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex

a/n: part of @gimmeurtmi's and i’s collab <3

word count: 4.3k

series masterlist

“God, that feels so good,” you whine.

Minho’s head pops up from between your legs and he grins, chin shiny with your arousal. “You close?”

“I was until you stopped,” you grumble.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he says with a pout. 

You push his head lightly. “You’re not sorry.”

“You’re right, I’m not.”

You roll your eyes. “Just because you can’t cum doesn’t mean I can’t.”

“I thought we were in this together,” Minho whines. 

“You really want to deal with a girlfriend who hasn’t cum in a month?”

“Good point.”

With that, Minho gets back to work. He’s teasing you purposely, this time, dragging his tongue up and down your slit without staying in one place long enough to be effective.

“Minho.”

“Hm?”

“Please...”

“Please what?”

“Need more.”

“Use your words, baby- hey. Don’t squirm.”

He presses down on your hips to keep you still, basically wrestling you into place. You surrender to him but only because you know he’s stronger. Minho smacks your cunt twice, each time making you jolt slightly. 

“Let’s try this again. Use your words to ask for what you want.”

“Can I- can I have something inside? Like your fingers or your tongue?”

“What about my cock?”

“What about it?”

“You don’t want my cock inside of you?”

“Of course I do, I always do. I just... didn’t think that was on the table.”

“Why not?”

“Are you really going to make me say it?” you groan. 

“You don’t think I can control myself?” Minho accuses.

“No, actually, I don’t!”

He sits up, hand over his heart in mock offense. “You wound me.”

“You just get very... passionate when we have sex.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that once you start, you can’t stop.”

Minho narrows his eyes at you like you’re challenging him, even though that isn’t your intention at all. You don’t want him to lose on your account, but you can only resist your irresistible boyfriend offering you his dick on a silver platter for so long. 

“I can’t believe you think that little of me!”

“It’s not that you can’t last, Min- we both know you can. You just like to... finish something once you’ve started.”

“Is that supposed to be a pun?”

You grin. “Sorry, couldn’t help myself.”

He rolls his eyes at you. “You’re such a loser.”

“That you’re in love with.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re lucky that’s the case.”

“And here I was thinking you’re the lucky one.”

“Oh, I definitely am. Listening to your terrible jokes is a small price to pay for getting to be your person.”

You push his chest bashfully. “Don’t get all cheesy now.”

“Why not? Can’t take it?”

“No, actually. I can’t. If you keep pouring your heart out to me like that I’ll die on the spot and then you’ll go away for my murder. “

“Worst they could get me for is manslaughter,” Minho scoffs like he’s brushing off the possibility. 

“So comforting to hear when you have me pinned underneath you.”

He smirks. “Did you want to get fucked or not? I do have to work later tonight.”

You sigh, shrugging. If he was so insistent about it, you weren’t going to fight it anymore. You were only trying to do him a favor in the first place. His funeral and all that. 

“Give it to me.”

Minho’s smirk turns into a genuine grin and he rubs your thighs in excitement. “I know you wanted something inside but did you want me to make you cum before fucking you?” You shake your head no. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, just put it in.”

“So romantic.”

Despite the sarcasm in his voice, Minho scoots up so that his face is just inches above yours and kisses you deeply, getting you to moan so that he can slip his tongue into your mouth. He tastes like you, unsurprisingly, and like the strawberry jam you put on your toast in the mornings. 

“Spread your legs a bit more for me, baby,” he whispers. You do, and he praises you for it. “There you go.”

One of his hands comes down in between your legs to rub your clit as he eases himself inside of you. The fit is perfect, like always, but the stretch is obviously a little more intense than usual. 

“You alright?”

“Yeah, just give me a minute.”

While he waits, he just lies on top of you, ignoring your complaints when you tell him you can’t breathe. Then, you tap him on the back twice to let him know he can move so he does. 

Minho isn’t one to jump right into fucking the life out of you, preferring to start slow and build gradually build the pace, and today is no different. He’s even slower than he normally is, being extra considerate of your disposition. 

“You can go faster,” you urge him. “I promise I won’t break.”

You see him hesitate, almost like he wants to ask you if you’re sure, but he doesn’t. It’s something he’s been working on, trusting you to be honest about what you want in the bedroom, much like you’ve been working on telling him what you want in the bedroom. “Wrap your legs around my waist, baby.”

You moan as soon as you lock your ankles behind his back, the angle already pushing him deeper inside of you. 

“Oh fuck,” you gasp. 

“Atta girl. So good for me when you wanna be, huh?”

You nod, whimpering. 

He keeps his fingers on your clit as he fucks you, wanting to get you to the edge as fast as possible. You assume he’ll draw back, slow down and edge you just like he had when he was eating you out a few minutes ago, but he doesn’t.

“Fuck, I’m going to- I’m cumming!”

You sob as it hits you, wrapping your arms around your boyfriend’s neck and pulling him close. He makes a sound of surprise as he falls forward into you but easily accepts his fate and begins to kiss and nip at your neck.

Minho’s still fucking you even after you come down, even though your legs are trembling and tears are staining your cheeks. He seems entirely unaffected by the way your pussy’s clenching relentlessly around him. Meanwhile, you’re falling apart every time the head of his cock nudges your g-spot. Curse his dancer’s hips and performer’s stamina.  

“Think you can give me another one?” he asks. You can hear the smirk in his voice and it’s infuriating. 

You don’t get the chance to respond before you’re cumming again, whining his name and biting your fist so hard you think you’ve drawn blood. It isn’t unlike Minho to fuck you into a second orgasm right after the first, he loves overstimulating you almost as much as he loves edging you, but it always catches you off guard. 

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he grunts.

“Yeah, I just c-came twice.”

“You’re always tight,” he says matter-of-factly. 

“Thank you?”

“You’re welcome.”

You snort and roll your eyes while Minho kisses your nose. 

“One more?” he asks, rolling his hips experimentally. 

Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you moan. “Yes, please. Please make me cum again.”

Minho tries to gently coax the third orgasm out of you, taking his time instead of fucking your brains out like he just had been. You can tell he’s getting close too. He’s trying not to show it but he has a tell that’s a dead giveaway every time. 

“So good for me, letting me do whatever I want to you,” he pants. “So fucking warm and tight and perfect. God, you can never get enough of this cock, can you? Just have to have it all the time.”

“Yes, always!” you agree even though you aren’t entirely sure he’s expecting an answer. 

“That’s my fucking girl.”

You cum unexpectedly, shocking both yourself and your boyfriend. It’s all Minho’s fault, really. He can’t say shit like that and expect you not to gush everywhere. 

He tries to make the most of it by thrusting deep as he fucks you through the orgasm. You clutch him to you, digging your nails into his back as your thighs tighten around his waist. 

The cries of his name and the pulsing of your cunt drive Minho right to the edge and he’s suddenly frantic, whimpering and grunting in your ear as he desperately begs you to say the things he needs to hear.

“Tell me you love me,” he whines. “Please, baby tell me you’re mine.”

“I love you! I love you, baby. I’m yours, I’m yours. ”

It hits him hard- body going tense, eyebrows knitting together, mouth falling open as he cums inside of you. He looks so pretty like that, it’s a view you’ll never get tired of. It’s almost enough to make you cum again. You can feel it, feel his cock throbbing as he fills you up. You hadn’t used condoms with Minho for a long time now, didn’t need to when you were taking twice the typical dose of birth control for your awful periods. And you had been dating for long enough that you could trust each other with something as intimate as this.

Minho gives you and himself a moment to recover before he’s pulling out and rolling off of you. He feels around for one of the washcloths you always kept on the nightstand and finds one, cleaning himself and your thighs off.

“I’ll wet go wet another one with warm water for the actual mess,” he assures you. “Don’t want to use a dry washcloth on that. Your PH balance is already fucked up enough after what we just did.”

You wrinkle your nose at him. “Can you not say stuff like that until at least twenty minutes after we fuck?”

“You don’t think it’s sexy that your boyfriend cares and is knowledgeable about vaginal health?”

“I do, but I don’t think I would classify the subject as bedroom talk.”

“Agree to disagree.”

It isn’t until you’ve both showered and are laying in bed together that you bring the bet back up. Minho still has about an hour before he needs to be at the JYPE building and he’s trying to spend as much of that time with you as humanly possible. 

“Min, the bet,” you sigh. 

“What about it?”

“You lost. You guys shook on it like... a few hours ago.”

Minho shrugs. “Oh well.”

You sit up, detaching yourself from him to give him a look. 

“What?” he asks. 

“You’re the most competitive person I know..”

He grins. “Thank you.”

“That wasn’t necessarily a compliment, but you’re welcome, I guess. I just mean you’re not even a little upset about being the first out?”

Another shrug. “Meh. You win some, you lose some.”

“Have you told them yet? What did they say?”

“I’m just gonna let them figure it out on their own,” he says. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like.”

You narrow your eyes at your boyfriend as it dawns on you. “You were never going to play, were you?” 

Minho smirks. “Oh, I’m playing. I’m just playing a different game.”

-

“I’m not lying to our friends!”

“It’s not lying! It’s just not telling them.”

“It’s called a lie of omission for a reason, Minho. Because it’s a lie. And what if they straight up ask me about it? What am I supposed to say then?”

“Just change the subject.” “Yeah, because that’ll work fine and not be suspicious at all.”

“Babe, please,” he pleads. 

“It seems mean!”

“It is mean,” he agrees. “But it’s funny.”

“What if they all hate you after this?”

“They contractually can’t hate me. They still have to be in a group with me for the next two years and if we renew then even longer. Besides, this is me getting back at them for volunteering me to MC for Music Core. I was sick the day the representative came around to the company and they all recommended me knowing I wouldn’t want to do it because they thought it would be funny. Next thing I know, I’m in the audition room and they’re telling me I have to wear stupid hats and do aegyo every Saturday-”

“I thought you liked the hats.”

“They’re okay sometimes,” he huffs, refusing to admit what you both know to be true. “But it’s the principle of the thing.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, Mr. Drama King. What do I get in return for participating in your little revenge plot?” 

“What do you want?”

“The rest of the SKZOOs.”

Minho purses his lips, holding back a scoff. The only SKZOO you owned was Leebit, obviously. You actually had a couple of Leebits around your apartment but Minho had jokingly banned you from getting any of the others because, in his words, he was supposed to be your favorite member. 

“Having the others doesn’t mean you’re not my favorite,” you’d argued. “Do you want Leebit to be lonely?”

“Leebit doesn’t need friends,” Minho had insisted. “He’s happier by himself.”

You weren’t convinced but you also didn’t feel like arguing with your very stubborn boyfriend on the subject. You were content with Leebit for the time being- until now, that was. 

“That’s really what you want?” Minho asks. 

“Mhm.”

He sighs, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Fine. Deal.”

You grin triumphantly and kiss him on the cheek. “Pleasure doing business.”

“You’re a menace.”

“And that’s why you love me. We’re made for each other.”

-

Your plan was to simply avoid the members and their partners for the entire month. If you didn’t run into them, you wouldn’t have to lie to them. Easy peasy. Right?

“Jisung did what?” you gasp, standing dumbfounded in the middle of your bedroom as your boyfriend gets dressed. 

“Planned a surprise birthday party for me,” Minho repeats.

“Why would he do that?”

“Because he’s my best friend?”

“But... your birthday was last month. And how is it a surprise party if you already know about it?”

“You know he’s not good at keeping secrets. Or planning ahead.”

You sigh and put your hands on your hips as you watch Minho button his nice dress shirt. 

“Do I have to go?”

He pauses to look up at you. “What do you mean do you have to go? You don’t want to?”

“It’s not that,” you explain, “I’m just worried about someone bringing up your stupid bet and having to lie to them.”

“I’ll do most of the talking,” he assures you. “Just stick by my side.”

Thankfully, the party Jisung had planned was on the smaller side. Only Minho’s closest friends were in attendance which meant that you knew almost everyone there. Han had admittedly outdone himself with the setup, too. You couldn’t even recognize the JYPE ballroom with all of the decorations and lights strung up everywhere. You told him as much when you saw him. 

“If only the guy was actually surprised,” he grumbled to himself, “but thank you. I’m glad you like it.” 

The ‘sticking by Minho’s side’ method only worked when he was actually by your side. Midway through the party, he excuses himself to go talk to one of his friends, leaving you to fend for yourself until he returns. 

“Oh my god, I feel like it’s been forever!” a familiar voice echoes from behind you. 

You turn to see Hyunjin’s girlfriend holding her arms out to you for a hug, and quickly reciprocate, briefly wrapping your arms around her in greeting. 

“It’s been too long,” you agree. 

“Where have you been?” she asks. “The other girls have been asking for you.”

“Oh, you know,” you mumble, “work has really picked up lately so I’ve just been swamped.”

It’s not technically a lie, you have been swamped, but you’ve also been actively avoiding your friends at the same time. 

“Ugh, that sucks. It must be so stressful,” she sympathizes, then lowers her voice. “How have you been doing with... you know?”

Fuck. 

You take a deep breath and swallow the guilt that threatens to claw its way up your throat as you scramble to come up with a bullshit answer. “About as well as any of us, I figure.”

“Fucking tell me about it,” she groans. “I nearly killed Hyunjin when he told me about it. I still might.”

You laugh. “If he goes missing, I won’t say anything.”

Suddenly, Minho’s back by your side, his hand resting on the small of your back. He greets Hyunjin’s girlfriend warmly. She wishes Minho a happy birthday and then excuses herself to go find her own boyfriend. 

“What were you two talking about?”

“Who’s asking?” you ask in response. 

“The birthday boy.”

“He has no authority here, sorry.”

Minho’s jaw drops in faux shock. “You’re really not going to tell me?”

“She just asked me how I was holding up through all of this No Nut November bullshit,” you admit.

“Wait, she actually asked you about it?”

“Yes, she actually asked me about it. Girls talk about this stuff.”

He winces and rocks back on his heels. “Damn, I’m sorry, baby.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, yeah, just don’t fucking leave me again. What was so important you had to ditch me for in the first place?”

“I went to go say hey to that girl Jeongin likes,” Minho explains, nodding in her direction. 

You look over to where she was now sitting with Jeongin and nod in understanding. “That’s her?”

She was one of the guests you didn’t know super well. You had only seen her at a few group functions and she mostly kept to Jeongin and some of the other younger members. 

“Yeah, that’s her.”

“What did you say to her?”

“I just thought she might be interested to know that her crush on Innie is mutual.”

“What?”

“She likes Jeongin back.”

“No, I know she does.” One of the other girls had told you about Jeongin’s little crush and how the two were practically shooting heart eyes at the other all the time but were completely oblivious. You just hadn’t been able to put a face to the name until now. “How do you know that?”

“It wasn’t hard to figure out,” Minho mutters defensively. 

“But why would you try to meddle in their business? Shouldn’t you let them figure it out for themselves?”

“If I didn’t interfere they’d never act on their feelings,” he argues. 

“And why did you decide to ‘interfere’ now of all times?” you push. 

Minho smirks, knowing you’re on to him. “I think you already know the answer to that.”

You roll your eyes and shove him lightly. “Why are you trying to make him lose? You’re already out so why does it matter?”

“I’m just trying to keep it interesting!”

“You’re being an asshole, is what you’re doing!” 

“You’re hot when you’re mad.”

“Don’t change the subject!”

“What do you say we get out of here?” he suggests, completely ignoring what you’d just said. 

“You can’t leave your own birthday party early!”

“Says who?”

“It would be rude, Minho.”

“Fine, then let’s find a closet or something.”

“You really want to fuck like twenty feet away from everyone you’re up against for No Nut November?”

He shrugs. “Who doesn’t like a little challenge?”

-

Jeongin loses next, then Hyunjin. Changbin follows not long after, then Chan, then Felix. All the while, you continue to have sex with Minho. He comes over a lot more often, fucking you in every room of your apartment and then falling asleep in your bed just to go again in the morning. 

You can’t risk being at the dorms because neither of you are very good at keeping your hands off of each other, but you don’t want to raise suspicion by not being around so you drop by a couple of times throughout the month under the guise of bringing Minho dinner or picking him up for date night.

When the boys ask about you, Minho gives them the same excuse you’d told Hyunjin’s girlfriend about work. They don’t pry, thankfully, probably too intimidated by your boyfriend to invoke your name more than once every three to five business days. Minho could be a little possessive at times, even around the friends he’d known longer than he had known you, and that was working in your favor this month. 

The other six having lost meant that Seungmin was the only one left standing. Technically, he had already won. But he doesn’t know that. Only you and Minho know that. 

You expect Minho to tell him the good news as soon as Felix announces his failure, but he doesn’t.

“November isn’t over yet,” he points out.

“You’re just going to let Minnie suffer?”

“He’ll be fine.”

“He’s going to kill you.”

“Probably.”

-

Minho feels a little bad about having you lie on his behalf, but not bad enough to stop you from doing it. You’re just as much of a little jerk as he is, which is why he knew you’d agree in the first place. Sure, your moral compass is a bit more aligned than his, but that’s what makes you such a great pair. You’re there to reign him in when he goes too far, and he’s there to push your boundaries. 

“You’re having fun, aren’t you?” he asks when you come back from a girls brunch all giddy and breathless. 

You hadn’t even wanted to go in the first place to save yourself from lying to them all morning but Seungmin’s girlfriend had begged you to, seeing as you were the only two whose boyfriend’s hadn’t caved and therefore weren’t getting laid like the other girls were.

You didn’t want to leave her hanging like that, so you went. And now, you’re practically glowing with adrenaline as you recount the last two hours to Minho.

“I said that you won’t even touch me,” you exclaim, making Minho’s smile falter. “And that you’ve resorted to sleeping on the couch when you stay over so you don’t accidentally get too close to me in your sleep.”

He scoffs. “Did you have to make me sound like a total fucking loser?”

“Would you rather I have told the truth?”

“Okay, okay, you’re right. Thank you for doing that.”

You take a seat on Minho’s lap and hum happily. “You’re welcome.”

-

When the clock strikes midnight on December first, Minho’s surprised by the radio silence from Seungmin’s end. 

“Do you think he’s asleep?” he asks you. 

“Maybe he’s fucking his girlfriend into oblivion,” you suggest with a shrug. “I hope he is for her sake. Poor girl was desperate for dick.” 

Minho isn’t really sure how to respond to that so he doesn’t. He just hums in acknowledgment and turns the lamp by your bedside off so that your room is doused in darkness. You pat his thigh comfortingly under the blankets. 

“We’ll find out tomorrow, babe.”

“I guess we will.”

Seungmin doesn’t text the groupchat until the afternoon, hours after Chan’s texted asking who won. Minho shows you the texts and you read over his shoulder as the messages roll in. 

Kim Seungmin SKZ: lost an hour or two before midnight. congrats minho. 

Lee Felix SKZ: minho won??? Why am i not surprised at all lol

Hwang Hyunjin SKZ: I think we all saw this coming.

Hwang Hyunjin SKZ: pun intended.

Bang Chan SKZ: so where are you going to take your gf?

Minho: actually, you all should congratulate Seungmin.

Bang Chan SKZ: what?

Hannie: what? did you lose yesterday afternoon or something?

Seo Changbin SKZ: ???

Minho: I was the first to lose. 

The groupchat is silent for a single beat before it starts blowing up with messages from all of the members furiously cursing Minho out. He laughs as he scrolls through them. 

Bang Chan SKZ: all in favor of voting lee know out of the group?

Kim Seungmin SKZ: i think it’s unanimous.

Minho: Relax, Minnie. You won. You’re getting the trip. 

Kim Seungmin SKZ: RELAX? YOU’RE GOING TO TELL ME TO FUCKING RELAX??? I COULD HAVE BEEN FUCKING MY GIRLFRIEND THREE DAYS AGO AFTER FELIX LOST BUT NOOO YOU THINK YOU’RE SO FUNNY MAKING THE REST OF US LOOK LIKE IDIOTS

Yang Jeongin SKZ: i mean it is kind of funny

Hannie: you’re not mad innie?

Yang Jeongin SKZ: i was out second... or i guess technically third so i was never going to win anyway. minho got me a girlfriend out of this so i can’t really complain too much

Minho: Listen, I’m happy to be the sole contributor to Minnie’s vacation since I was the one to orchestrate all this. The rest of you can donate to that nonprofit we talked about at the beginning of the month. I’ll make a donation too obviously but don’t worry about the trip.

Kim Seungmin SKZ: I don’t want your pity money

Minho: it’s not pity money, it’s sorry for being an asshole money

Seo Changbin SKZ: if he doesn’t want it, i’ll take it

Kim Seungmin: don’t you fucking dare

Minho: anyway, if you guys are done bitching I’m going to go spend some time with my girlfriend now. I hope you’ve all learned your lesson.

Hwang Hyunjin SKZ: our lesson???

Lee Felix SKZ: wym?

Bang Chan SKZ: oh don’t tell us you’re still mad about that

Minho: not anymore. we’re even now.

Minho puts his phone down on the counter as soon as it starts to ring with a call from Seungmin. He swipes the decline icon and turns his attention to you. 

“Was it worth it?” you ask. 

He opens his mouth to answer but his phone rings again, cutting him off. It’s a call from Chan this time. He declines it and turns the phone off completely so that no one else can bother the two of you. 

He leans forward and kisses you hard, taking your bottom lip between his teeth as his hands settle on your ass. 

“Was it worth it?” he repeats, smirking. “I’d do it again in a fucking heartbeat.”

sorry again for the wait- as you all know i've been going through a lot lol

nnn tags: @doesthismeannothingtoyou @yellowroses-world @allyoops @thelostverse @karlitaburrito @lydataylorsversion @septemberkisses @caticorn61 @multifandomtrash-dree @cixrosie @mchslut @cutiequokka @fairygemss @multistancheck @lady---boner @stay-bi @compersian @raspbinniecreme @skzgallll @strawberriesandknives @laylasbunbunny @goddessofhiddenpleasures @brit97 @jonaticdragon @linobuns @vampcharxter @skizzel @sillyrabbit76 @sahazzy @kpfly @zerefdragn331 @wonuziex @sirleeknow @ashcapybara

[spctrsgf]

morning banter

summary: something about you and marc? he wakes up early, and you most certainly do not.

word count: 1.2k

warnings: language, my shitty spanish (i’m trying okay)

a/n: took a quick break from b+h for a lil marc spector drabble!!! hope you all enjoy

Es tan temprano para esta mierda, Marc. Jake’s annoyed Spanish drawl smacks into the side of Marc's head. The combination of his drowsy, slow mind and that Marc knew next to no spanish caused the said man’s eyebrows to crinkle. “What the fuck did you just say?” He can barely hear his own voice, but he knows Jake can.

Don’t worry about it.

“Jake.”

Marc. Only Jake would pitch up his name in a high voice: it’s a mimic.

“Hey! I don’t sound like that.”

Yeah you do.

“No, I don’t! Back me up, Steven.”

Don’t bring me into this. 

C’mon, Stevie— Jake cuts off abruptly, probably the doing of Steven.

“Jake,” Marc resists the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Just tell me what you said.”

Go to sleep, puta.

“Okay, I know that one,” Marc hisses, toiling you in closer to him. “Rude.”

You deserved it.

“You wanna know what you deserve?”

Oh, yeah, Jake taunts. What’s that?

“A fucking pun–”

His voice goes legato as soon as he senses you moving, causing him to fall silent. You curl tighter into a ball, spiraling the covers more into your fists and tucking them again beneath your chin. Jake, by some miracle, also goes quiet, as if somehow his words could expel themselves out of Marc’s mouth and to your ears. 

But, the soft exhales are the only noise you left out, and if you heard them, you didn’t show it. Marc’s shoulders roll back from where they were hunched, surely Steven’s gentle gesture to the position he hadn’t even realized he’d been in. 

Would it kill the two of you to just be nice to each other? The Brit muses. 

Absolutely. Jake’s response is automatic.

“One hundred percent true.” Marc chimes in.

HAH! Steven ejects the exclamation in triumph. Now I got the two of you agreeing.

“Sure, whatever.”

Only time we agree is when you finesse us into it, hermano.

Marc slides his arm out from where it was wrapped around your waist to give the two a thumbs up in agreement with Jake, reluctantly.

Or, he tried to.

“Noooooo…” You groan groggily, tightening your hold. 

Marc freezes. “Baby?”

“Mmmmm?” 

“I- I didn’t know you were aware.”

“Well,” you snuggle closer into his chest, his warm embrace. “You ‘n Steven ‘n Jake aren’t exactly quiet when you argue.”

He sighs, guilt pooling in his stomach. “Listen, ‘m sorry. You know how we can be.”

“Yeah, I do. And I love you all,” you reach back, squeezing his bicep reassuringly. “But I also love my beauty sleep.”

“You don’t need to sleep to be beautiful.” He ducks his head to place a featherlight kiss to your neck, savoring the sigh you let out in return.

“You’re sweet, but we both know that’s not true.”

“Do we?”

“Mhm,” you turn, nudging Marc’s arms off of you as you face him. “‘M a menace without it.”

“That’s true,” he chuckles when you slap his arm, letting out an effortlessly beautiful smile. “But it’s nothing a cup of nice, warm coffee can’t solve.”

You giggle softly. “That’s true.”

“C’mon, sleepyhead,” He moves to slide you both out from under the covers. “Let’s get going.”

“Nope.” You let him go, rolling to burrito yourself in the covers again. 

“Nope?” He inquires, rounding the bed to stand over you.

“Nope.”

His shadow covers your shut eyelids and you know he’s bent over your face. “I’ll make you coffee to apologize for waking you up, baby, I promise.” You scrunch your nose. “Tempting, but no.”

“Not even because I’m asking you?”

“Not even if you were on your knees and begging.”

“Oh?” The sentence your half asleep brain had kindled clearly took him by surprise. 

You huff, flipping over in the bed dramatically. “Go away, I’m tired.”

“What’s so great about this bed that I can’t give you, huh?”

“Well,” You take a deep breath, and some small, rational part of your brain tells you that maybe the spew of words about to come out of your mouth is what he wanted to happen all along. “The bed is warm. It’s cozy. The covers are just the right heaviness and just the right thickness to provide optimal warmth and the right amount of pressure to keep me sleeping like a bear in hibernation. ‘Nd my pillow is the right firmness, but has my desired amount of sink to put me out as soon as you turn off the light and wrap your arms around me. Even though that only happens sometimes.”

Marc huffs in frustration. “Hey!”

“Yeah, Marc, my bed is always here on time. It never goes anywhere, and the only life it’s saving is your sorry ass right now.”

“Uncalled for.” He runs a hand through his hair. 

“Thought you liked a bit of banter.”

“I like a kick or two,” He leans over and pulls your shoulders to level on the bed and your eyes to meet his own. “But not at eight in the fucking morning.”

“Neither do I,” You reach up, pulling his face in for a kiss.

He gives in almost immediately, setting a knee on either side of your legs and scooping his arms underneath your body to pull you up.

“Nuh uh,” you pull away and unwrap his arms, flopping back onto the bed. “Sleepy. Time to sleep.”

“You can't leave me hanging like that!”

You yawn, pulling the covers up to your chin again. “I can and I did.”

For a second, a naive, small second, you think he’s going to leave you be. Your brain relaxes, you feel yourself on the precipice of sleep, the hypnotic, rich swirl of unconsciousness sucking you deeper into its whirlpool. But then you feel the covers lift, and Marc’s— frighteningly cold— fingers are dancing along your sides to a tune you illustrate with laughs. You slap his hands away, reaching out towards the lure of sleep that now sneaks away to taint another victim.

“You ready to get out of bed now, sweets?”

You groan, turning to face him in defeat. “You fucker.”

He throws his arms mockingly. “What’d I do?”

“You manipulated me! I hate you.”

“I did no such thing. What are these accusations?”

“You knew I would get worked up,” you sit up in the bed now, and Marc shrinks ever so slightly under the weight of your deadly stare. “You knew that would wake me up.”

“Hey, let’s calm down–”

“You knew that if you pushed the right buttons, you would get what you wanted.”

Marc’s face is ghastly, and he looks two steps away from summoning his suit and flying away.

“I warned you earlier about this, Marc, were you listening?”

He nods frantically. “Of course–”

“I’m a menace when I get woken up early.” You launch off the bed, and you might as well be Moon Knight yourself with your accuracy.

The takeaway from this event? For Marc, it’s to never try waking you up before you’ve recharged fully, or to have some coffee made ahead of when he was to attempt it. For you, though?

It’s that Marc shrieks like a little girl. 

translations (HELP I FORGOT):

es tan temprano para esta mierda - it’s too early for this shit

puta - bitch

i felt very fancy using these

[jesuistrestriste]

♡ You're Such A Loser pt. 2; Art Donaldson x Reader ♡

nsfw (18+) cw: switch(dom)!art donaldson, switch(sub)!reader, reader guiding art through domming, begging, brief choking, slight hate fucking themes, orgasm denial, slight bit of tears/crying (he’s okay), oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, praise, degradation, creampie.

all that frustration from losing his matches has built up in him, and now Art is ready to let it all out. only because you’re letting him, of course.

word count - 2.9k

note : part twoo (part one) !! i hope that those who liked pt. one will like this part just as much :) it’s a lil bit of a switch in dynamic (pun not intended)

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He’s diving back into your cunt without hesitation, lapping at the remnants of your orgasm that have spilled and sprayed down your inner thighs. His arms are hooking under your legs so that he can bury his tongue deeper and deeper into you.

You groan deeply, running your fingers through his hair before pulling the locks taut in your fist.

“Yes, baby, just like that.. your mouth always feels so damn good,” you breathe out, moaning at his expert tongue skills.

As you gaze down at him, you can see the way that his eyes are squeezing shut and his brows are turned up in arousal as he licks at your insides. He lets out a pathetic whimper at your words of praise, which shoots a mouthful of vibrations up through your form. Your knees tremble, clamping down on his flushed cheeks, and you use your grip on his hair to guide him gently up to your clit. He takes notice of your cue, and moves his mouth up to suck your sensitive bundle of nerves. You gasp brokenly and toss your head back, before looking down again to see his face.. and god, he is beautiful. His brows are still knitted up, but now his big aquamarine eyes are watery and looking up at you like a lost puppy. He was all yours. Just yours, and he knew it too -- in fact, he loved it.

“That’s it, sweetheart, doing so--mmf!--so well,” you moan out, using your hand to now stroke at the back of his head and give him a bit more physical stimulation. His eyes flutter closed at the feeling of your fingers brushing against his scalp, and out of habit he reaches up with one of his free hands and uses his middle and ring finger to brush against your dripping hole. Immediately, you wince at the contact, and he lets out a drawn out groan that you can tell is an incoherent plea for permission. You nod.

He wastes no time in turning his wrist so that his hand is palm-side up, and then his fingers are gliding into you without any resistance whatsoever. Your body is absolutely starved for him at this point, and you can’t do a thing to hide it. As he feels your insides wrap warmly around his digits, his eyes prick with tears while he continues to mouth at your clit.

He brings his head back, detaching his mouth from your body, and moves to look longingly at the way your fingers are sucking him in every time he pulls them back. Your slick is covering his chin and his lips, which are currently parted in arousal as he huffs and puffs from desperation. He continues to pump his fingers in and out of you, relishing in the way that he can feel you clench and twitch.

“You’re so hot,” he whispers, not breaking eye contact with the point of connection between your body and his. He then decides to bury his two fingers so deep inside of you that they actually completely disappear. Next thing you know, he’s curling his fingers repeatedly in the “come hither” motion while he’s still buried up to the hilt. About thirty seconds of this is all it takes for you to get there.

“SHIT-! Oh my god, Art, don’t fucking stop, don’t stop, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, I’m g’na-”

You manage to moan out a quick warning before your hips are arching into his touch, going completely still for a few moments. Then, wave after wave of your orgasm washes over you, causing your pelvis to spasm rapidly as you babble incoherent phrases of praise to your partner.

Art’s mouth is now completely agape, his eyes lidded, as he takes in the show of your orgasm, not stopping the movements of his fingers. You couldn’t really tell over the sound of your own vocality, but he was letting out tiny whines and whimpers from the way that your body was making his cock leak pathetically in his already-soiled boxers. He could barely hold his second orgasm off.. it was so damn hard.

After you collapse fully on the bed in an attempt to recover in your afterglow, sticky with sweat and panting heavily, you are now able to fully hear Art’s pure and unfiltered anguish. He’s moaning lowly as he glances from your cunt down to his clothed cock, which is jumping over and over in his underwear -- begging for attention. He then moves to pull his wet fingers from inside of your pussy, which allows for a few drops of viscous wetness to spill from your hole. Without hesitation, he lurches forward with his pretty tongue sitting gently on top of his bottom lip so that he can gulp down the taste of your release. He sucks and licks greedily at your hole, letting his eyes flutter closed as he grips his own thighs. He doesn’t want to touch himself yet. After all, you never gave him permission.

“You’re such a good boy, baby.. so needy and hungry for me, aren’t you?”

He nods quickly but shakily, his nose brushing against your clit as his mouth continues to relentlessly engulf your heat.

“You want me to let you cum?” you ask, knowing from his track record that he’s probably already on the edge.

He pulls back, licking at his bottom lip to not waste any of your taste, before he removes his hands from gripping his legs and instead places them to your waist. He digs his fingers into your soft flesh as he looks up at you from his position on the floor.

“Please, please, I’m already there-- just tell me I can and I will! I promise,” he gasps out, drawing out the second half of ‘promise’ to emphasize his sheer closeness. His brows are still turned up as tears start to well in his eyes. He’d cry if you said no, you knew that. The real question was: did you want to keep punishing him tonight? Had he had enough?

“Tell me how bad you want it, love.”

You could stand to be cruel a little bit longer.

He whines, his fingers clenching around the skin of your hips, as his pelvis continues to buck involuntarily.

“I want it so badly- I wanna cum- I’m so close, please please please.. I don’t know if I can stop it,” he moans, the slight friction of his cock against his wet boxers pushing him closer and closer to the point of no return.

“What if I said no?”

“Nooo, god, please don’t.. I’ve already made you cum.. I could prob’ly cum just from you telling me that I can.. can I? Oh shit, please-”

“I’ll tell you what: I’ll let you cum if you can take control for once.” 

He looks at you, confused, before trying to stave off his orgasm by biting down on your thigh as he lets out a broken whimper. You yelp, before stroking his hair, knowing that he was deep in an animalistic state of mind -- he didn’t mean to hurt you, he just was trying so hard to be good.

“Use your words, Art.” 

He releases you from between his teeth, before tears are spilling down his cheeks.

“I,” he sobs, “I can try.. but you know that I’m not like that..”

“I know, baby, I know. I want to teach you. Would you like to try that?”

He nods. He’d do anything to cum at this point.

You use your hands to push yourself farther back onto the bed so that your head is now close to the headboard. Art watches your every move, but stays as still as he can. He still wanted to please you, and didn’t want to do anything without your say-so. This was going to have to change within the next ten minutes.

You pat the bed’s comforter, and he immediately crawls up onto the bed and hovers over your form. His breathing remains uneven as his cheeks continue to flush with the torment of his delayed release. The erection in his boxers is still as stiff as ever, and you eye the way that it visibly jumps with anticipation.

One of your hands reaches up to comfortingly caress his face, and he leans into your touch.

“Breathe, honey, breathe. You’ll get what you want soon.”

He sighs, which almost turns into a moan, but he cuts himself off as you start to give instruction.

“Okay, first I want you to take off my top and bra. Undress me, understand?”

“Yeah,” he responds breathlessly, moving to pull your shirt over your head and unclasp your bra in under a minute. You were now completely naked, and he allowed himself the pleasure of drinking in the sight of your uncovered body. You were so gorgeous, it made his dick twitch.

“Good. Now, take off your boxers and shirt. I wanna see you,” you couldn’t help staying in a dominant headspace for a few seconds more.. it was just so fun to boss him around. He was so quick to follow directions, too.

He unsurprisingly does as he’s told, swiftly removing his gray tee and pulling down his boxers. At the sight of his bare cock, you bite your lower lip and place a hand on the back of his neck to guide him down to meet your mouth. You kiss him deeply, letting your own tongue lick his as he reciprocates with equal ferocity. He’s mashing his lips with yours, moaning into your open mouth when you pull back to switch the angle of your head. You bite down on his bottom lip before sucking it, which causes him to groan deep in his chest. Your hands snake to his lower back and you pull him down in one swift motion so that his body is now pressed flushed to yours as you continue to make out. A few more moments of this go by before Art knows that he has to speak up.. 

“I th-think I’m gonna c-cum,” he stutters, rubbing his hard cock against your lower stomach, “I can’t hold it, I cannn’t-!”

You reach down quickly and grasp his dick, which makes his eyes roll back into his low lids, and then you’re sliding it inside of your tight hole without warning.

“Nnghh-! I’m--fuck!” he sobs out, immediately spilling a thick, warm load inside of you. You let him thrust shallowly into you as he pumps you full of cum.

“Ah hah hah haah-!” he cries as he overstimulates his cock by continuing to fuck himself through his long-awaited orgasm.

As you watch his face with a smile and feel his throbbing dick inside of you, Art suddenly pushes himself up onto his hands so that he’s looking down at you. He’s gasping for more air but his brows are sitting low on his face and he looks weirdly upset.

You reach a hand up to his face, but he grabs your wrist with one hand and shakes his head without breaking eye contact with you.

“Don’t,” he breathes out, before beginning to thrust his spent cock more forcefully inside of you. Was he pissed that you had initially denied him..?

“Wha-”

“Don’t say anything, please,” he cuts you off, “just let me fuck you some more..” 

You close your mouth, feeling a new kind of heat swirl in your gut. There was something about his tone that was new for him.. there was a bit of authority in it. Art hangs his head as he groans, pulling his cock all the way out to the tip before slamming it back into you. The wind feels like it just got knocked completely out of your lungs, and you squirm on the sheets.

“You feel so good.. f-fuck, I’m already hard again,” he moans, a growl beginning to creep up his throat.

A moan escapes your lungs as you let your head fall back into the plush pillow, and then before you can fully comprehend what he’s doing, his hand is over your mouth. His elbow is resting by your neck as his palm covers the lower half of your face and muffles your sounds.

“I said to be quiet,” he says gruffly, now speeding up the movements of his hips. They snap back and forth with a renewed sense of fervor, filling you up with his heavy cock with every thrust inside of you. You moan, although muffled, and you can tell that your stifled sounds were driving him crazy.

“You did a lot of talking tonight, babe, now let me say something--” 

You drool under his hand, your mouth open and panting, as you try to focus on his words,

“I don’t get why you called me a loser when you’re my coach.. my loss is your loss- shit!” 

The tip of his cock hits your cervix as you clench around him, causing him to briefly lose his train of thought. He finds it quicker than you thought he would, though.

“So that means that you’re a loser too, aren’t you?” he spits out with gritted teeth, leaning down close to your face and looking deep into your eyes. You compulsively whimper and buck your hips up to meet his.

“Use your words, baby,” he mocks you from earlier, anger laced potently in his command.

He knows that you can’t talk coherently right now, and it’s not his hand that’s stopping you. He knows damn well that if he removed his hand from your mouth, you’d still be a slurring mess of moans and pleas for more beneath him. His cock was fucking you so well, and it was hitting all of the right places at all of the right times. You weren’t sure you were going to last much longer, and neither was he to be honest..

Before, he was in the mindset of a defeated, washed-up tennis champ, but now he was taking on the same persona that he did when he was in his prime. When he won back-to-back matches. He was a fucking beast.

“Mmmph-! Mm-!” your moans rolled around in your chest and were muffled by Art’s large palm as he continued to fuck mercilessly into you. You felt the cord in your gut being pulled taut.. ready to snap at any moment..

Suddenly, he pulls his hand from your mouth and groans, bringing it up to his mouth as he licks depravedly at your drool left behind on his skin. You whimper at the sight, and he follows it up with a similar vocalization before speaking down to you.

“You taste so good, baby, fuck fuck...” he pants, the movements of his hips becoming sloppier by the second.

he places his wet palm down across the center of your collarbones, and you groan lowly at the feeling, before you take his wrist and manually move his hand up to the base of your throat.

“please,” you whimpered. 

and he readily obliged.

Art squeezes gently at the sides of your throat, stifling the blood flow to your brain and initiating the spread of a pleasant fuzziness throughout your body and head that made your impending orgasm feel that-much-more intense. 

“you like that? you like when i choke you, baby..?” he moans, clearly enjoying the switch in dynamic as much as you were.

you nod immediately, trying to take in more oxygen as his fingers pressed deliberately against your pulse. then, he released you from his grasp like a lion drops a gazelle from its mouth before feasting upon it.

you take a huge, broken breath into your lungs before everything begins to feel like it’s getting too much .. everything feels too good right now.. 

“Honeyimgonna-mffphh!-imgonnacumpleaseohmygod” you couldn’t stop the slurry of nonsensical pleas and whines as you felt your orgasm getting ready to wash over you.

“I’m gonna give it to you so good.. i wanna fill you up.. you’d be nowhere without me, let’s face it.. if i didn’t win any matches we’d have no income.. so i’m not a goddamn loser.. i’m not.. i’m.. i..”

Art was becoming more and more incomprehensible the closer he got, and then he felt everything crash down around him once your orgasm started to rip through you and pulse around him.

“OH GOD! HOLY SH- OH FFFUCK! I’M CUMMING I’M CUMMING!” he shouts, unable to hold anything back as he fills you up again.

You feel the warmth and tingly pressure of his release spread throughout your cunt as you cum on his throbbing cock, your eyes rolling as your head tips back against the bed. You whimper and groan as you take in the feeling of your second orgasm of the night, and relish in the heat and aftermath of your partner’s third one.

After you both come down slightly from your highs, Art collapses in a sticky, sweaty mess on top of you as his chest heaves against yours. You close your eyes, smiling, as your hands move to rub lovingly at his lower back. As his head rests heavily in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent, he slowly pulls his hips back and you whimper as the feeling of emptiness starts to rush through you in the absence of his length.

You could feel his cum oozing down your pussy, and you laughed softly at the sudden realization of the reality of your situation.

“You know,” you huffed, still trying to catch your breath, “i think you just came inside of me again.” 

he laughs.

“i don’t think i could have stopped that from happening..” he smirks, rubbing his soft but sensitive cockhead against the inner part of your right thigh.

“right, right.. all i’m saying is that you better not get me pregnant. you’re already a handful as it is.”

“You love it,” he whispers, picking up his head slightly to bite at your neck.

“Whatever you say, loser.”

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guys, this took so long to finally finish up and that’s on me lmaoo

writer’s block had me in a firm chokehold n i didn’t like it

i feel like i ended this fic a bit quickly, but i think that can mostly be chalked up to sleep deprivation.

anyways, hope this quenched ur mike faist thirst for the moment, but i have more ideas that i want to write about asap.. so there’s definitely some more hot stuff coming soon hehe

[raven-dor]

sweet nothing

In which james potter makes sure his friend isn't late for class

PAIRINGS: james potter x ravenclaw!reader

WARNINGS: given last name, fluff, flirting, crushing, OBLIVIOUS READER

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

AN: i just love marauders fics where they're happy and nothing is wrong and they are just living their lives

The halls of Hogwarts were buzzing, Pandora, Regulus, and Y/N contributing heavily to that sound. The blonde girl had said she’d discovered nargles, which caused Regulus and her to get into a heated discussion about the topic. Y/N watched helplessly, laughing at how animated Regulus was with his hands when he talked. A hand swung over her shoulder, rectangle glasses coming into view. 

She shrugged him off, glaring playfully. “What do you need, Potter?” 

James scoffed. “Can’t a man say hello to his favorite Ravenclaw without being reprimanded?” 

She raised an eyebrow. “Not when I’m in the middle of a conversation.” 

“Were you? Because it looked like you weren’t doing much talking.” 

Regulus cleared his throat. “Actually, Pandora and I were just leaving. We need to inspect the… the nargles.” He smirked. “Have fun.”  

“Reg!” She turned to Pandora, pleading. “Please, don’t leave me here! You know how annoying he gets when left unsupervised.” 

She giggled airly, walking away. “Have fun, Y/N/N.” 

She turned to James, smiling lightly. “How are you, James?” 

“Just fine, love.” She tried to ignore how her heart clenched at the nickname. He nudged her arm. “And you?”

“Fine.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “Fine? Just fine?”

She nodded, staring at the ground. “Y/N, come on.” He slipped his pinky around hers as they walked. “You can tell me anything, you know that.” 

She could never keep a secret from him for long. If she wanted to become an Auror, she really had to work on her resolve. “It was-” She shivered. “Horrible. My parents cornered me, practically threatened me into getting the dark mark.”

He stopped, his grip on her pinkie stopping her as well. He grabbed her hand, tracing over the freckles on the back. “And did you?” 

“Rowena, no.” She scoffed. “Do you really think I’d do that?” 

He shook his head. “Just asking, lovie.”

She sighed, pulling him along through the corridor. James put his arm over her shoulders once more, and this time, she didn’t shrug him off. His voice had a joking tone to it, but she knew he was being serious. “If you ever need a place to stay, my parents would be more than happy to have you.” 

“James, I’ll be fine, really.” 

“Only if you’re sure, love.” 

She blushed, mumbling. “Don’t call me that.” 

He gasped, putting his hand over his heart. “Why not?” 

“You know why. You like Lily. So in the future, direct the endeering nicknames towards her. If you keep flirting with everything you see, Potter, she’ll never give you a chance.” 

His cheeks were pink, and he scoffed. “For your information, I actually like someone else. In fact-” 

“I enjoy a good deer pun as much as the next person, but are you two going to sit and eat lunch? You’re blocking the sun.”

She laughed, reaching across the table to ruffle his hair. The Gryffindor gasped, immediately shoving her away to fix his hair. “Don’t harm the merchandise, love.” 

James mumbled, glaring at his friend. “Oh, so he can call you love, but I can’t.” 

Y/N chose to ignore him. “Sorry Siri. I couldn’t resist.” She sat down, placing a heaping pile of mashed potatoes on her place. “And I would never miss lunch. It’s the most important meal of the day.” 

Remus smirked, tilting his head. “I think you’re thinking of breakfast, Y/N/N.”

She glared at her friend. “I am shocked you weren’t placed in Ravenclaw, Remus.”

He laughed. “I’m shocked you were.” 

“Remus John Lupin!” Her jaw dropped. “What a rude thing to say.” 

“You’ll be fine.” 

Peter giggled, shaking his head. “You’ve always been the funniest person I know, Y/N.” 

She bowed, and Sirius rolled his eyes. “Well thank you, Pete.” She looked at the other three, who could not care less. “Take notes. That is how friends treat friends.” 

James scoffed. “Speak for yourself. I treat you like a princess.” 

Y/N smiled, leaning her head on his shoulder. “When you're not tormenting my peace, yes, you are.” 

Sirius looked over at Peter, highly offended. “I’m not forgetting you said that Pete. You know I’m funnier than her.” 

Peter nodded, smirking. "Sure you are, Sirius."

"I'll have you know-"

"Boys, boys." Y/N put her hands up. "No fighting at the dinner table."

"It's actually lu-"

"Remus, again with the know-it-all card."

He raised his eyebrows. "Now, who's fighting at the dinner table?"

Free period was Sirius and James’s favorite part of the day. 

It was not Remus, Y/N, and Peter’s favorite part of the day. 

Because every day like clockwork, the pair begged them to watch their impromptu Quidditch practice. Peter luckily got out of this one, mumbling something about tutoring and scurrying away before he could elaborate. Remus and Y/N walked down to the pitch, holding their coats close to their bodies as they talked about their latest read.

“I don’t know Y/N/N, Jane Eyre seems to forget that she is the heroine in this story. Staying with that psycho who kept his wife in his attic? Not her wisest choice.” 

“I think you’re missing the main point, Remus. She’s finally doing something that no woman in her time had the fortune to do. Decide her own destiny. I agree, I think that particular choice was not the smartest, but she becomes the heroine of her own story anyway because she chose to stay. It’s a rare trope in that era of literature.”

James and Sirius stared at them from the sky, both of their stomachs queasy for the same reason. James turned to his best friend, whispering. “Do you think they’re… together?” 

Sirius spluttered, scoffing. “I mean, he can’t- he- she- they definitely-” 

James rolled his eyes. “Relax, Pads. Moony isn’t going anywhere. You still have a chance.” 

His friends cheeks grew pink, but he said nothing. James smiled, nudging him lightly. “You know I’m actually very proud of you, Padfoot. I know how difficult it is for you to accept that you like someone.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Prongs. I’m just shocked at the idea of them.” He nodded, but his voice didn’t sound as sure. “That’s all.” 

The practice ended quickly, and Remus left Y/N in the stands. He knew she liked to soak up the crisp, fresh air before sitting class for two hours.

“I am so surprised to see you here.” 

She opened her eyes, holding a hand above her to block the sun. 

“James. Great job out there. You continue to impress me.” 

He smiled, bowing. “Thank you. What are you doing after this?” 

“Transfiguration, James. With you.” She raised her eyebrows. “The same as every other Thursday.” 

“Can you blame me for trying to block it out of my memory?” He laughed. “Besides, I don’t need to take Transfiguration, I’ve already mastered that art.” 

She hummed, laying back down on the stands. He smiled, she looked rather peaceful like that. “Then you should be fine, sitting there for two hours. It isn’t that difficult, anyway.”

James scoffed. “Of course you would say that. Some people have to try, you know.” 

“Well not me and you. Don’t stress about it.” She sat up, huffing. “Suppose it’s time to walk over. I’ll see you in a bit James.” 

Y/N hadn’t even gotten two steps before a hand grabbed her wrist, stopping her in her tracks. “What if I told you I have an idea?” 

She squinted, whenever James had an idea it either ended in a prank or detention. No one could blame her for being hesitant. “And what is this so called plan?” 

He grinned. “Fancy flying?” 

“You cannot be serious right now James.” 

He smirked. “You’re right. I’m not Sir-” 

“Shut it.” She raised her finger to his lips. “McGonagall would have our heads.” 

“Nonsense. Minnie loves me. And if you don’t want to be late, you should take me up on my offer.” He held his hand out. “Don’t you trust me?” 

She sighed. Once again, her resolved crumbled thanks to James Fleamont Potter. “You know I do.” 

“Then get on.” She jumped up, gripping his waist as tight as she could. His voiced shook his chest. “Hang on, love.” 

She screamed, nuzzling her face into his back instantly. James laugh echoed through the grounds, and she couldn’t help but laugh with him. It was contagious, his laughter. What felt like seconds later, their feet touched the ground, her hold as strong as ever. “You can let go now, Y/N/N.” 

She shook her head, rather comfortable in this position. “One more second.” 

“You’re shameless.” He whispered. 

She nodded, releasing her hold. “I’m ready now.” James grabbed her hand, racing towards McGonagall’s classroom. “Merlin, James slow down!” 

“Can’t have our resident genius late to class. It’s a bad look Y/N/N!” 

She laughed, panting. “I’m not our resident genius James!” 

They whipped around the corner, throwing the doors open. McGonagall stood at the head of the room, her eyebrows raised. Giggles echoed through the class, the Marauders audibly laughing. McGonagall cleared her throat. “Mr. Potter. Ms. Baudelaire. How kind of you to join us. What exactly were you doing before you intrusion?” 

Y/N turned bright red, stuttering. “Professor, I am so sorry, I-” 

“It was my fault Minnie. I was running through the halls and bumped into Baudelaire. She took a nasty fall so I offered to walk with her to make sure she was alright.” He looked over at Y/N his eyes wide, practically screaming ‘go along with it.’ “Just plain, old fashioned chivalry.” 

Y/N fought a giggle back down her throat. “Exactly. Chivalry.” 

Sirius laughed, before quickly getting smacked over the head by Remus. McGonagall nodded, turning back to the chalkboard. “In the future, Mr. Potter, watch where you’re running.” 

He nodded. “Of course, Minnie.” 

Y/N looked down, realizing they were still holding hands. James grinned, pulling her over to their desk. He leaned over, whispering in her ear. “I told you we’d be fine.” 

She blushed, pushing him away. “Minnie really does love you.”

[mini-mews]

animal crossing and alien noises <3

request: hi! i hope ur doing well, i love ur acc and i wanted to ask if you can do some shota x reader fluff,,, maybe he sneaks into ur room to cuddle and talk :)) 💗

p1harmony shota haku (soul) x gn!reader

wc: 705

summary: Shota comes home late to find you comfy and he can't resist melting into the warm bed with you, a bubble of love blocking off the outside world.

a/n: hii anon!! thank you so much for this request, it was super soft annd i really enjoyed writing it, so i hope you enjoy it lots <3

Shifting around in bed as you bury yourself into the blankets, the switch sitting in your hand lights up. Soft music chimes out as your island comes into view, Animal Crossing displayed. It was just past 11pm, only a few minutes after Soul had sent you a text. 

‘Are you still awake? 〵(•́ ꞈ •̀)〴’

‘Yeah m’ just in bed now, do you have yer key? ♡’ 

‘Yesss!! cya 15 mins ʚ(*´꒳`*)ɞ’

Knowing he probably freshened up at the company you got comfortable checking through your island to pass time. Quiet chimes of the music fills the space as the side lamp gives a warm glow to the room and before you knew it, the telltale sound of keys jingling could be heard.

Footsteps down the hall as your eyes follow a dark spot in the water, trying to get close enough to trigger a fishing event without scaring it off. The sound of footsteps and water splashing rise and suddenly stop as the screen reads out ‘I caught a sea bass- no, wait! This is at least a C+’ making you scrunch your nose. 

As you glare down at the sea bass with terrible puns, Shota stands leaned against the doorframe admiring you. The cute face you're making at the screen, how comfy you look curled up in bed, the light illuminates you so perfectly, gently kissing your skin Shota bites back a wide smile. When you finally look up, locking eyes with him as he moves towards you.

“Hi baby, welcome home.” You whispered out as he settled into bed, allowing himself to get tangled within the blankets and you, throwing an arm over your belly to pull you flush against him. “How was practice? Are the boys doing well?” Shota gave quiet recounts of his day, not wanting to ruin the calming environment you’d had created. He’d talk about funny stories of recording with Theo and Keeho, how Jiung and Intak kept teasing each other during practice, and the new moves he created with Jongseob. You nodded along as you continued your little tasks in the game, Shota watching intently. 

It was only after you finished showing off your latest creation of a heart shaped pond did you notice that he had stopped talking and was watching you instead of the game, making your face heat up at the sudden attention. 

Shutting it down and putting it aside you turn back to him,“What’s up Sho?” Mumbling out as you slide further into the bed, shifting around until you're laid on his chest, leg thrown over his, peering up through your lashes until it’s his turn to shyly avert his eyes away from your stare. 

Nudging your chin into his chest to bring his attention back to you, you ask again, “What’s on your mind baby?”. It seemed so intimate, the way you whisper it, soft eyes looking up at him as he wraps his arms to press you almost impossibly closer to him. “I love you so much.” He says barely above a whisper as he locked eyes with you, a toothy smile spreading. 

A wave of warmth hits you as you bury your face in his chest, caught off guard by the confession. “You can’t just say that all of a sudden…” The words are muffled by his shirt but still causes an airy laugh to escape him. “You asked, didn't you?” Shota said, still amused by your reaction, “I’m just really grateful to come home to you, Y/n.” You could feel his heartbeat under your fingertips, the warm feeling infectious as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “I love you too, my alien.” Huffing out one of his signature noises, you’d smile attempting to echo it back to him. 

A home filled to the brim with warmth and love. Shota runs his hand up and down your back, sometimes stopping to draw patterns on your skin as your palm smooths against his cheek brushing his hair. Eventually your eyelids start to get heavier, as your breathing steadily falls into deep sleep, Shota holds you close whispering out “I’ll love you forever.” before shutting off the lights, joining you in dreamland. 

i hope you enjoyed, please like/comment/reblog as any interactions is greatly appreciated and motivating! ©mini-mews

[catsandbats13]

Hi! If you're still doing requests, may I suggest Stan with this meme? (If it's too spicy please disregard 😅)

I just think it'd be fitting 😂😅

The combination of the pun and another Stan pinup was all it took, I had to draw this lol

I even added a lil bonus doodle of how i imagined Stan looking at the invisible camera when he can’t get his pants on lmao I couldn’t resist

I think I’m getting better at drawing body hair now?? I can’t really tell lol

Anyway I hope you enjoy this as much as I did! And thanks for the suggestion! 🥰💜

[perrywrites]

Aaaaahhhhhh!!!! Your writings are so good! Can I ask for Ness, Kunigami, and Nagi to fill out the roster for the “mumbling ‘i want you inside me’” blurbs you got going on? If you’re not too busy of course! Idk which characters exactly you write for tho so it’s cool if you forego Ness or smth

YES, I was already writing Shidou, so I wrote Nagi and Kunigami with him as well. The cutie Ness will have to wait his turn (if there is one, I'll see if I'm inspired) 😞😞😞 BUT ALSO, having Kunigami and Shidou on one list feels illegal and wrong ngl LOLOL, thank you so much for liking my writing 🥺🥺🥺

Absentmindedly murmuring that you want him inside of you during practice part 4;

NSFW 

Includes; Nagi, Kunigami, Shidou

Part 1 (Isagi, Hiori, Bachira) and part 2 (Chigiri, Reo) and part 3 (Barou, Kaiser) and part 5 (Sae, Rin, Karasu, Otoya, Yukimiya)

Nagi: he only knows you’re here when Reo elbows him, telling him that you’re here, except this time Reo is snickering in a way that confuses him. Why is he laughing? What’s so funny about you being here? Nevertheless, unanswered questions fading away in his head, he turns to see you across the field, and he waves at you - but there’s something weird about you. Although you wave back, like you would usually do, it’s not an energetic kind of wave. It’s more lethargic, hand barely raised, and something about you seems like you’re not really there. Right now you kind of seem like the zombies he shoots in his games. Concerned and confused, he blinks at your weird behaviour, but he saves it until his break. The moment he gets his chance, he’s making his way over to you, but the closer he gets to you, the more… confused he starts to feel; your state doesn’t seem as similar to a zombie’s as he initially thought. You’re certainly seeing him, that’s for sure, but your eyes are weird. They’re all opaque and dazed, as if you’re delirious from a fever of sorts. He doesn’t know why, but something about your glassy eyes makes him antsy. “... You there?” And it’s when your dreamy smile widens, your head tilting, that he realizes even before the words leave your mouth exactly what is up with you. Ah, so that’s it. You need him right now. That’s what those eyes are for, yes, he remembers. That’s how you look up at him sometimes when he’s trying to get you into bed. Except, you’ve never said the kind of thing you just said, and those sultry words send heat straight down to his cock. Something in that breathy tone of yours tugs at his heart and he becomes restless. What are you doing to him? He shifts on his feet slightly. You can’t do this to him right now. Not right now. Don’t look at him like that right now, it’s making him think of you in a way that’s going to make going back to practice really hard - pun intended. The only kind of thoughts that are sitting in his head now are all images of him making you cry on his cock, using that pussy of yours until you pass out, pounding away until your voice is ruined. And, ah, shit, well. He can no longer deny himself, it’s too hard to resist this urge and go back to practice. So when Reo comes to tell him that practice is about to start, all he mutters is a quiet “sorry Reo” before he grabs you by the arm and drags you off somewhere. You’re the one that started this, you can take responsibility by letting him go as many times as he wants, right? 

Shidou: the moment he catches that hazy gaze of yours, he’s busting his ass laughing right on the field, yelling to his teammates something about how he’s eager to score even harder with his girl looking all cute for him. Rin is the one that tells him to shut up - both of them somehow seem destined to stick together, joining the same exact league, both bemoaning their misfortune. All Shidou does is almost start a fight, taunting Rin back in response, telling him that if he’s so jealous he should stop being loveless and go get with someone already so he can hop off of Shidou’s dick already. Of course, the rest of their teammates and coach have to get involved to calm both of their asses down, and so there’s an unplanned break. Immediately, first things first, he heads over to you, all amused, noting how you’re still looking at him like that, all lovesick and yearning. Shit, damn, you’re gonna make him catch a public indecency case. “Shit sweetheart, you’re looking like you want to milk my cock, huh? Want me to bust my load inside of you or something?” Turns out, that’s exactly what you wanted, because you say that - say that you want him inside of you. Well then, he didn’t expect that - usually in the face of his desire (for you, you, only you), you had a tendency to be a bit more shy. That was nice, getting to tease you and watch you get flustered, then have you make all of those lewd sounds and faces for him - but… There was something about you being all bold and blunt like this about wanting him to fuck you that got his blood pumping. It made him want to go the extra mile in fucking you - even though he already always goes full out when fucking you -  try out new positions and breed you in each and every single one, shoot his burning hot cum right into your womb as he holds you down and your perfect pussy flutters around his cock again and again. He won’t even take his cock out this time, leave it in until he gets hard enough to fuck you again and again and again - he’ll give it all to you, he’ll get you fucking pregnant, fuck his cum into you until he’s sure of conception, shit. You want that, don’t you? Just the same as him, yeah? Of course you do, you’re just as much of a fucking pervert as him. So within a moment of you saying something that hot, he has already made the decision of pumping his seed into you right then and there. That’s why he immediately picks you up, throwing you onto his shoulder and you yelp - confused and disoriented as he starts carrying you off, warning everyone to not enter the showers for the next hour or so unless they want to hear him giving it to you good. Rin scoffs from the side, glaring, saying something about practice, but Shidou laughs, having none of it. “Fuck off virgin eyelashes, impregnating my girl takes priority~” You hear Rin muttering something about him not being a virgin beneath his breath, but that’s no longer your concern. You’ve lent fuel to a forest fire and now it’s going to burn through the whole country, don’t think you can walk after how hard he fucks you. After all, Shidou Ryusei loves invitations, especially if it’s the kind you give. Although, your biggest concern soon will definitely be how you’re going to face the rest of his teammates after they inevitably hear all those raunchy sounds you’re 100% sure Shidou will make sure you’re unable to suppress...

Kunigami: although he’s not exactly an oblivious guy, he’s not exactly the most conscious guy either when it comes to this kind of stuff. He never really knew when a girl crushed on him or swooned over his gentlemanly behaviour up until he got a confession. That still holds true even now, but you’re not exactly ever ‘subtle’ - case in point, those very obvious bedroom eyes you’re giving him at the moment. He feels his ears burn, face warm - not because of physical exertion - as he tries to ignore your eyes absolutely burning through his back. Why are you looking at him like that right now? Are you even aware of the kind of dreamy expression you’re making? You don’t seem like it. God, you’re distracting him, completely. The things he’d do to be alone with you right now - goddammit, he feels like a pervert now. When his break arrives and he goes over to you, the fervent blush only deepens - you’re still looking at him like you want him to claim you, eyes all hooded and dazed, pouty lips parted open. “Hey…” He curses himself for his awkwardness even with his own girlfriend, keeping his eyes averted from you as he rubs the back of his neck. “… You good?” Is that all he can say? Really? Wow, great going Kunigami, what a great job. But before he can berate himself any further for his awkwardness - he’s always a little shy when it comes to the more intimate side of your relationship - you say something that has him sputtering, eyes wide as he looks at you. Did you - did you really just say that? The way your lips twitch up into a small smile is enough of a confirmation, and he feels his heart beat intensely beneath his broad ribcage. How do you - how do you just… say things like that. “You… You sure do love to tease me, huh…?” And then he falls silent, shifting on his leg as you giggle lightly at his words, the sound of your voice making him shiver slightly now. Do you even know what you do to him? How you make him want to push your legs up right into your chest and just pound away? Fuck you into the bed as you cry out his name? Claim you, over and over again, make you sore and exhausted as he uses your body until you’re full of his cum. Fuck, god. He should be thinking of kicking balls right now, scoring goals, but instead his head grows empty and blood rushes down to the wrong head. Why are you like this? Why do you do this to him? He curses beneath his breath, willing the wrong head to go back to sleep, and he catches you staring at the bulge all yearningly and - ah fuck, he can’t play like this. He grabs your hand and pulls you up. You’re coming with him and helping him deal with the ‘problem’ you caused, okay? Hopefully he can get a quick round in before the break finishes, or well, if he can’t… He might as well fuck you for as long as he pleases.

Also I finally realized there's a character limit per block thingy LMFAO, I couldn't figure out what was the problem the last two times and just did 2 characters I'm such an idiot 😭😭😭

[jobean12-blog]

Have A Little Pun

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader 

Word Count: 1,007

Summary: Joel has more than one reason to smile now. 

Author’s Note: Well, we all know I love a good pun and any time I throw them in a fic well, that’s just the most fun. Also, The Last of Us is slowly burying me under emotional damage and I need to think about things like this-the show is amazing and I love it so-but these moments are everything to help me get through haha! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you sweets! 🥰

Warnings: Soft fluffs and even some smiles

*There are some small spoilers from Episode 4 and 6 here, nothing plot wise really but some dialogue stuff- you have been warned 🥰*

GIF NOT MINE: Credit goes to @joelmjller​ thank you lovely 🥰

Joel Miller Masterlist 

“You know I can hear you two,” Joel drawls from his spot by the window.

You and Ellie exchange wide eyed glances before erupting into hushed giggles.

“We’re just trying to have a few laughs,” you counter, raising an expectant brow.

Joel levels you with a look that says he’s not amused.

“Come on, one of these has to make that fucker laugh,” Ellie whispers as she turns the page of the book.

She points to a pun and covers her mouth.

“Hey Joel. I’ve got one for you,” Ellie starts. “Doesn’t matter how much you push the envelope…it’ll still be stationary.”

She lifts her eyes from the book and smiles at Joel. He narrows his eyes and purses his lips.

“Shit,” Ellie groans, but despite Joel’s grumpiness she still laughs.

“I’ve seen him smile before,” you tell Ellie. “We can get him to crack.”

She holds your gaze and her eyes soften. “He definitely smiles more since you’re around.”

You give her shoulder a soft bump and whisper a quiet “thanks.”

“Oh! What about this one,” she says excitedly.

“Hey Joel,” Ellie says, grabbing his attention again. “Why did the scarecrow get an award?”

Joel pushes off the wall with a grunt and slings the rifle over his back as he moves past you and Ellie and says, without looking back, “because he was outstanding in his field.”

“You dick. You read this didn’t you!” Ellie exclaims with a laugh.

You try to cover your snort but when Joel turns around with his deadpan expression it only makes you laugh harder.

“Gimme that,” you tell Ellie, reaching for the book. “I’m gonna find a really good one that has to make him laugh.”

After an hour of thumbing through it, your finger running over page after page, you finally find one that you don’t think he can resist. With a pep in your step you trot over to Joel, who is now sitting on the edge of an overturned cabinet, his arms crossed over his chest and an extra grumpy look on his face.

You slip in front of him and rest your hands on his thighs, eyeing Ellie over his shoulder with an assured look.

He remains still, his expression neutral as he holds your stare expectantly.

“Did you know diarrhea is hereditary?”

You ask the question with such sincerity that you see his resolve waiver, his features relaxing just for a moment.

Even so he doesn’t smile.

“What?” he replies.

“It runs in your genes.”

You crack a smile and can’t stop the laughter that escapes as you wait for his reaction.

“Jesus,” he mumbles as he drops his head with an exasperated shake.

Despite his grumbling his shoulders start to jump and it makes you laugh harder.

“That is so god damn stupid,” he says, keeping his face hidden.

“YOU LAUGHED YOU ASSHOLE!” you shout as you dance in front of him.  

When he lifts his head you see his slight smirk just before he chuckles again, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

“HE’S LAUGHING!” you say again, catching Ellie’s eye.

She’s smiles widely before she exclaims, “gotcha fucker.”

He straightens up and puts his hands on his hips, ready to give both you and Ellie a snarky retort but you start to laugh harder, which causes him to do the same.

Without thinking you launch yourself at him and throw your arms around his neck.

With a light ‘oof’ he catches you and at first seems surprised, his body slightly tense, but when you don’t let go he tentatively closes his arms around your waist.

You squeeze him harder and he lowers his head to your neck, your name leaving his lips on a soft inhale.

When you finally pull away it’s only enough to slide down his body and look him in the eyes.

He’s lips are still turned up into a smirk.

“I like this look on you. Not that I mind the grumpiness…considering it’s almost all the time.”

His lips twitch and you can tell he’s fighting a bigger grin.

“You’re allowed to smile you know,” you tease.

“And you’re definitely allowed to kiss her,” Ellie chimes, suddenly standing beside you.

Joel’s eyes go wide and you can feel his fingers dig into your skin.

“Ellie,” you chide, but it comes out soft as you turn to give her a ‘what the fuck’ look.

“What? I’m not blind,” she says, her tone full of sass. “I see the way he looks at you when he doesn’t think you’re paying attention.”

You drag your eyes away from Ellie and find Joel staring at you.

“Ellie,” he says gruffly, his eyes still on you. “Why don’t you go take a quick look around.”

Ellie nods with a sly smile and grabs her gun.

“Don’t forget to…” Joel starts as he turns Ellie’s way but his mouth shuts quickly when she interrupts him.

“I’ll be quiet and check my six, find the high ground and look for tracks,” she says knowingly. “Don’t worry.”

She winks at Joel before smiling your way and turns on her heel, skipping out the door, clearly following Joel’s instructions.

Joel watches her for a moment before he slowly brings his eyes back to you.

“I really have to teach her to keep her mouth shut,” he murmurs.

“Don’t think that’s possible,” you answer, “and besides, I think she’s just what you need.”

He hums low in acknowledgement as he pulls you closer. “Might need a lil’ more than that darlin’.”

“And what might that be?” you ask him.

His eyes drop to your lips as he smooths one hand up your back. His free hand lifts to your face and he presses his fingers under your chin to tilt your head back.

He lets out an exhale, your name a whisper on his lips as he dips his head. He pauses for a moment, his mouth hovering just above yours and he smiles, and you smile back, before he leans in to kiss you.

[oldhalloweentape]

🪨Venture (OW II) x (gn) reader headcanons⛏️

(Start of Romantic Relationship Pt. I Edition!)

(Not my picture!)

(Venture has to be one of the only characters that have made me write this frequently with little to no period of resting before jumping into another post than any other character.)

(Pt. II) (Pt. III)

- Besides the previous jitters they had when they were trying to confess (confession here), they’re so loud and proud about you.

- On the list of subjects they just love to talk about, you’re high on that list.

- They just love you so much you know?

- Spending time with you is the highlight of their day, anywhere, even on the battlefield when they’re getting the shit knocked out of them by Reinhardt.

- On top of that, if the situation allows it, they love to be touching you in some way, whether it be holding hands, placing a hand on your thigh, wrapping their arm around your shoulders, etc.

- They think of you so highly, this does not go away as the relationship between you two progresses, trust.

- Never stops adoring you, and never stops sharing their thoughts with you either. Whether it be about certain types of rocks, artifacts, historical architecture, anything that pops in their brain and they’re in your presence…

- You best believe they’re gonna share it with you first than anyone else.

- Oh and you guys know Rosetta right? Y’all have rock kids together, that’s just fact.

- They all have their own names and their own special spots everywhere in the places you guys reside (together or separately).

- Started collecting them as a monthly anniversary tradition that went off the rails the second they brought one to you.

- You both take some of them to missions together (this is if you guys work together ofc) to gush over them like the proud parents you are.

- Love letters? Love letters, love letters coming from them come in several forms.

- The most common being sticky notes that consist of words of encouragement and flirting that usually has a rock pun in it.

- Like stupidly lame yet equally as cute puns, You can’t tell me they wouldn’t write “Sedimentary rock has got nothing on the many layers of your amazing personality! :D” or “Baby, you rock my world!”

- If they’re in charge of packing your lunch or something, expect notes like this on top of chocolate rocks, gummy worms, orange slices, bag of your favorite chips, and a hoagie sandwich.

- Nothing cooked cause I wouldn’t trust them with a stove.

- They understand if you want to take things slow, but they can’t resist thinking about the future.

- They can’t imagine a life without you in it!

- They’re in this for the endgame, they adore and love you so much, jumping at the chance to show it in any way possible!

(Sorry if this is all over the place, I just have so many ideas to voice about them :))

[beyondspaceandstars]

The Barista

Relationship: Matt Murdock x Reader Warnings: nothing. only fluff Summary: Although the barista at the local coffee shop never seems to be able to get Matt's order right, something keeps bringing him back. A/N: enjoy this quick little fluffy thing I whipped up in the notes app of my phone <3

Masterlist

Matt winced after he took another sip of his coffee. You had added cinnamon to it this time. Cinnamon. He didn’t know how you managed to do that. His coffee was simple and, more importantly, never changed, but you—a barista at the local coffee shop—always somehow managed to get it just a little incorrect.

But, also, Matt wasn’t exactly keen on skipping his weekly coffee trips.

“What did she put in your coffee this time?” Foggy asked after having witnessed the face his friend had made.

Matt sighed. “Cinnamon.”

“Cinnamon?” Foggy laughed. “I don’t understand how that is even possible. Why do you keep going to that place?”

Matt did his best to his shrug casual, undetectable. “No reason. It’s not that big of a deal.”

Foggy gasped. “Oh my gosh.”

“What?”

“There’s a hot barista, isn’t there?”

Matt immediately started spewing out (weak) protests. “What. That’s… I— How would I—,”

But Foggy cut him off. “Don’t give me that again, Matthew. You do know. You can’t stop yourself from going to the coffee shop because you’re trying to get with a hot barista.”

“Okay,” Matt said in defeat, “maybe let’s not call her ‘hot barista.’ She’s just… She’s very kind. She makes silly coffee puns when I order. Sometimes we get to talking and… I don’t know. I like it. I like her, I think.”

“Even though she gets your coffee order wrong every single time?”

Matt blushed. “Well, I think I make her a little nervous. I may or may not have noticed some spikes in her heart rate.”

"Oh, that’s perfect," Foggy said with a laugh. "So, when are you going to ask her out?"

"I— I don’t think I can do that. That would be weird, right? Maybe she’s just being nice to me. I don’t want to be one of those customers."

"But you said her heart skips when you walk in."

"Sure, but maybe she’s just an anxious person—,"

Foggy scoffed. "Since when have you ever had this many reservations about asking someone out?"

"I don’t know," Matt admitted with a sigh. "I don't think she needs to get wrapped up in all my stuff."

"Actually it sounds like she very much wants to get wrapped up with you."

"Foggy…"

"Alright, alright, I’ll stop," he said, raising his arms in surrender. "I’m just saying, it sounds like she might be into you so I would at least think about it."

And so Matt did. He tried not to—he really did—but no matter how much he resisted it, your angelic voice and his best friend’s insisting words kept creeping up in the back of his mind. Even when he was out patrolling his city, the thoughts didn’t leave him.

In fact, it consumed Matt for an entire weekend. And he found himself back at the coffee shop bright and early Monday morning.

As Matt opened the door, he was immediately hit by your soft, sweet voice talking to another customer. You were kind and respectful as you interacted with them but Matt was quick to notice you didn’t share a coffee pun. He didn’t know why that made something in his chest warm.

When he approached the counter, he heard your heart speed up just ever so slightly, as if on perfect cue. Matt enjoyed trying to act clueless sometimes.

"Good—Good morning, Matthew," you said. "It’s good to see you again. I missed you a latte this past weekend."

Matt subtly tightened the grip on his cane. He swore you winced at your words, which he found adorable. "Good morning.” He couldn’t help but smile. "That was a good one.”

You giggled. And it nearly took his breath away.

“Thank you,” you replied. “I have to start looking up new ones. I fear I’m running out.”

Matt shook his head. “We can’t have that, can we?”

You laughed again. You were as giddy as ever around him. Maybe Foggy wasn’t completely bonkers, Matt thought.

"What can I get started for you today, Mister Lawyer?”

"Coffee. Splash of cream," Matt answered.

"Of course, of course," you muttered to yourself before waltzing around behind the counter. The sound of grinding beans and dripping coffee made Matt’s ears perk up.

"Busy day today?" You asked over the noise of the machines.

Matt shook his head. "Paperwork to do, files to review. The usual," he replied but his words felt jilted. Should he ask you? Would that be weird? Would you call the cops or something?

"Well, that’s good to hear! Your day will fly by," you said quite cheerfully. It made Matt feel really good—a particular kind of good that didn’t always come easily for him.

"It’s already off to a great start here," Matt replied, taking a little leap of faith. He swore he heard you gasp. "Um, you know, there is something I wanted to ask you."

You were now pouring coffee into a to-go cup. Matt didn’t think you had messed up anything this time but he couldn’t be sure. He was a little distracted.

"Oh, yeah?" You asked. Your voice was suddenly shaky. Your heart rate shot up. Not just a skip like before. It was pounding.

It could mean anything, really, he told himself.

"Yeah." Matt took a deep breath. "I was wondering if you’d like to grab dinner sometime. With me."

Something heavy hit the counter. "Uh, dinner? Like as a date?"

Matt chuckled. "Yes, exactly like a date."

"I’d love to." You didn’t even hesitate slightly. That made Matt feel really good.

"Great," he replied. He was sure he was keeping his composure from the outside but on the inside? He wanted to let out a sigh of relief.

You two exchanged contact information after Matt’s order was ready. He paid and you both kept it very professional, even when he noticed your hands were pretty much shaking.

The professionalism fell when he was bidding you a goodbye. You stepped around the counter to plant a kiss on his cheek and wish him a good day. It nearly took Matt aback but not in a bad way.

A permanent smile was etched onto his face for the entire morning—even when he went to take a sip of his coffee...

Vanilla. Matt could smell it, he could taste it. You had somehow added a splash of vanilla syrup to his cup of coffee. Matt laughed to himself.