#I've only slipped twice

[omjitskailay]

For the sheer volume of swearing that is going on in my head, I'm surprised almost none of it has accidentally come out of my mouth yet

[servicereward]

first-draft demona (as dominique destine, evil CEO) make-up test

[sanguineterrain]

smut 18+ only, fucking jason on the kitchen floor, feral horny afab reader who wants to maul jason, unprotected sex, breeding kink, submissive jaytodd!!! rock on!!!

The first time you go absolutely batshit feral over Jason, he's cleaning the apartment.

He's done nothing to provoke your ferality (he never does), and usually, you keep it to yourself. Thoughts like if I were a vampire I'd suck his blood and I need my boyfriend to hold me down until I orgasm or pass out, whichever comes first, are inside thoughts, and you do a great job at keeping them as such.

So you're not quite sure what compels you to act the way that you do.

First, Jason's in clothes that don't help your insanity. The shirt is Dick's (Jason insists that he did NOT have an emo phase, thank you), so the cropped quality of the My Immortal t-shirt isn't by design. Jason's just big.

Yes, yep, your boyfriend sure is a big boy. That's all you can think about as you watch him over the top of your open book while he attacks the kitchen floor with his Swiffer Jet. He's humming a song you don't recognize.

You love him so much. The thought hits you square in the chest. You love Jason Todd. A lot. A lot a lot a lot.

The next thought that hits you is how soft and squishy your boyfriend is. Jason's sweatpants are baggy, the baggiest he could find, and they still can't hide how humongous his thighs are. His thighs are pure muscle, but when not in the middle of a fight, they are soft. Bitable. Very bitable.

Your gazes moves to the strip of belly that flexes and flutters with every movement. Jason's stomach isn't perfectly flat, a fact that you know sometimes bothers him. You take care to treat it delicately, not wanting him to be self-conscious even though every part of him makes you rabid.

You want to kiss Jason's stomach. Feel it twitch under your hand as you do, uh... other stuff besides kissing. You love watching Jason in action, love watching him wield his powerful body. But you also love him like this: using his body to take care of himself, his space, and you.

Jason's arms. You could write prose poetry on such magnificent creations. More than once you've had the urge to wrap one of Jason's arms around your neck and let him squeeze until you lose consciousness. Another inside thought! Jason would staunchly refuse and probably get you checked for head trauma if you requested such a thing, but you can dream.

Once or twice, Jason's flexed for you, silly and smiley. You've managed to hide just how fucking hot you found it. It's been well over a year and you still want to jump your boyfriend. You try to keep it to a manageable level, not wanting to startle or overwhelm him. You know Jason's complicated relationship with his body. You respect his boundaries.

But still, the thoughts linger...

Your feet carry you to the kitchen before you can think about it. Jason's done with the mop and has moved to wiping the counters. You seize the opportunity to get behind him.

"Hey, baby," Jason says before you reach him. He keeps wiping. And that's another thing: Jason is highly competent. His training makes him hear you before you've reached him. If you were an evil goon, you'd be on the floor before you could inhale. You also find that concerningly hot.

You stick yourself to his back and wrap your arms around his stomach. You grab handfuls of the layer of fat that covers his muscles, brushing your thumbs over where his hair thickens below his bellybutton.

"What's up, hm?" Jason asks, patting your hand.

"You're really hot," you say.

He snorts, glances behind at you. "I'm what now?"

"Hot. Juicy. I wanna maul you."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah," you say peacefully, groping his waist. "Soon as possible."

"I'm free for a mauling in ten minutes. That work for you?"

"I don't know if I can wait that long." You slip your hands up his shirt. "Mind if I feel you up while I wait?"

Jason laughs but it comes out a little airy. "You're a menace."

"I'm crazy about you."

"Mm, I've noticed. Feeling's mutual."

"No, no." You move your head so that your mouth is on his exposed bicep. You feel the hot flesh in your mouth, lave your tongue over it for some time. As soon as it flexes, you bite the hard muscle.

Jason drops his dishcloth. You soothe your teeth marks with your tongue.

"You don't understand," you say, shifting so you're pressing Jason against the counter edge. He lets you keep him there. "I'm crazy about you. I wanna eat you, Jay. Let me eat you."

"Jesus, what's gotten into ya?" he asks, turning his head to look at you.

"Hopefully you," you say, unrepentant.

Jason's eyes widen. You adore how squirmy he gets whenever you're bold about wanting him. Despite how long you've known each other, Jason never fails to get flustered. Perhaps that's half the fun.

"C'mon, Jay, let me fuck you. I wanna fuck you on the kitchen floor," you say, past coyness.

He full-body shudders. "I jus' cleaned."

You grin against his arm, pawing at his hip. "I'll help you mop again, honey pie. Deal?" You're eyeing his stomach next, ready to suck his skin there.

Jason can't deny you for long. You both know that.

"You're persuasive," he says, eyelids fluttering.

You hum. "Didn't take much, though, did it? Is your dick hard already?" You squeeze him through his sweats. Jason whines, bracing himself against the counter. "Never takes long, huh? You're always ready for me in no time, stud. Ready to fill me up, right?"

"Oh m'God," he says, looking at you like you're divine. That look swells your ego every time.

"Is that a yes?" You cup his balls like you're choosing a bull for breeding. Jason buckles under your brazenness. "Yes, you want me to let you fuck my pussy? Yes, you want me to fuck you on the floor?"

"Yeah, yeah, please."

So Jason lets you push him down onto the tiles. You yank his sweats down first, then his underwear. He's already leaking onto his stomach.

"Fuck," you say, grabbing and holding Jason's wrists on either side of his head. "You gonna give me what I want, sweetie? Love of my life, handsomest guy I've ever seen?"

Jason nods vigorously. "Yeah, yes, an-anything y'want. Oh my God, I'm s-so hard. I love you. Y'so nice to me."

You smile gently.

"I'm nice for taking you on the kitchen floor, huh?" you ask, bending your knees and lining up his cock to your cunt. "What if I make you wait until I come first?"

Jason nods again, already breathing hard. "I want to, I wanna wait. You should come first. I want you to come first. I don't have ta come at all."

You raise an eyebrow. That's new. New, but not unwelcome.

"So even when I..." You sink down on his cock, just the tip. Jason whimpers in the back of his throat. "Do that? You don't need to come?"

You feel him flex under your hands but he's good and stays put. He doesn't break your hold even though he could. You grin.

"Oh-oh. Sweet boy. My best guy. Look at you, big and hard. You could take me if you wanted, but you don't want that, do you? You want me to take what I want from you. All that muscle and strength, but what d'you need, Jaybee? Hm? Tell me."

"Need you," he says, voice strained. "Need you to do whatever y'want."

You kiss under his jaw and dig your nails into his wrists. Then you sink further onto Jason's cock. His hips twitch but he doesn't thrust like he usually does.

"Will you kiss me?" he asks when he bottoms out, body strung tight like a bow.

"I did kiss you," you say, smiling into his neck.

"On th'lips," Jason says, fingers shaking. "Please? Please."

You thread your fingers with his to steady them. Then you lean in to kiss his mouth. Jason moans, greedily kissing you back. You begin to move. Jason's shoulders tense.

"You're so perfect," you say against his lips. "You'd be so perfect at knocking me up. Any time I wanted, you'd be hard and ready to come in me, right?"

"Ah-ah," Jason says, voice wrecked. "Y-yeah, yeah. As much as y'want. Do anything y'want. I'd do anything."

"Yeah, I know," you say, grunting as you slide back onto him. "I know, sweetheart. Pretty boy. Y'dunno what you got with this fat cock. Can barely speak when your dick's wet."

You do a particularly hard grind and growl against Jason's sweaty throat. You lick the salt from his Adam's apple, feel it bob against your tongue. Then you bite.

"Oh, oh," he whines, and your gut tightens further at his sounds.

"Don't come," you snarl, pussy like a vice. "I come first."

Jason shakes his head, lips parted. His pulse throbs against your mouth. "No, no, won't. I won't. I'm good. I'll be good. 'M I good?"

You pet his hair, voice softening. "You're good, Jason. So good, baby. So good that I gotta take you right here on the floor. You understand, right? I was aching over there, watching you. I had to fuck you. Had to use your big dick for something."

"Uh-huh," he says, voice wet and sticky with pleasure. "Y'had to. I can do it. I wanna be good for you."

He looks up at you, and you're struck again by your difference in size, and how easy Jason gets when he's inside of you. You feel that familiar tightness, the edge of your impending orgasm.

"Rub my clit," you say, letting go of his right hand, and Jason obeys instantly, locating and deftly rubbing your clit.

"Harder," you tell him, and he rubs harder. Your mouth falls open as the pleasure swells. "Yeah. This is what you're made for. Pleasing me."

One of these days, you'll broach the subject of Jason putting those muscles to good use and fucking you doggy-style, whining in your ear as he shoots load after load into you.

"I'm gonna come," you say, cunt tightening. "Are you gonna come?"

Jason shakes his head desperately. "No. No, no, y'said not to. Not gonna come!"

"A-are you sure?" you ask, grinning as Jason makes uh-uh's in the back of his throat.

"Won't come, I promise, won't come," he says, near tears.

You come, tightening hard around Jason's cock. He nearly howls, the corners of his eyes wet, tendons pulled taut in his neck.

But he doesn't come, true to his word.

Sloppily, you kiss him. Jason kisses you back, but it's frenzied. You know his brain must be soup with the effort it's taking to not come.

"Look at you," you say, gaze hungrily roving over Jason's swollen nipples, his red face, his drawn eyebrows. "You listened so well. Y'wanna touch me? Wanna hold me?"

Jason nods frantically. "Yeah, yeah, please, baby, please, can I?"

"Go ahead, sweetheart. Hold me how you want and make yourself come. Don't be gentle."

Jason hesitates at the last direction. "Don't be gentle? Are y'sure?"

You pinch his nipple lightly. Jason bucks his hips. Your eyes narrow.

"I'm sure. Gimme everything you got, big guy."

You bite your lip as Jason's body comes alive, strength kicking in as he draws your thighs up over his hips, plants his feet, and drives into you. He punches the air out of you with each thrust, sobbing as he does. You hold on to his arms as he moves.

It only takes him a few thrusts before hot cum fills your pussy. Your eyes roll back at the feeling, nails scratching Jason's biceps.

"I want more," you say, grinding shallowly against his cock. Jason cries out, and more cum fills you.

"Was that good?" Jason asks, holding you closer.

You grin. "We're definitely doing that again."

Except, maybe not right after Jason's cleaned. You're not that mean.

[ddejavvu]

Mean! Logan loves wet pussy and loves how you get so leaky when he’s around. He loves to finger and spit on your pussy at random times, adding to the mess 🥺💜

Simple - Logan Howlett x Reader

send me mean!logan requests!

contents/warnings: smut, minors dni. mean!logan, spitting, vaginal fingering, don't like don't read.

god anon. 'mean!logan loves wet pussy' aaaand it's all over the screen ☝️ thank you for phrasing that so hot i wuv you

Logan's acute sense of smell can be a curse sometimes, but it's never more of a blessing than when he's around you. He can always smell your arousal- always. You're more cunt than brain around Logan, and he adores the way your pussy always starts leaking at the smallest of gestures by him. A smirk, a hand run through his hair, even a well-timed wink can have you wet in your panties, and Logan's always eager to sniff you out.

"You know this really is a problem," He hums, turning where you're cuddled close to his chest and murmuring over the movie playing in front of you.

"Hm?" You shift, your leg hiked further up over his thighs as you blink up at him, "Wha'ss'a problem?"

"You make a mess anytime you're with me." He laments, faux-disappointment clouding his voice, "S'a shame you ruin all your panties."

"What?" You ask, incredulous but not more than you are bashful as you try wriggling away from his grip. But Logan doesn't let you, and you're caught in his muscular grip as he drags you back towards him.

"Don't act like you don't know what I mean. Here, I'll prove it." Logan's hand slips deftly into the waistband of your sleep shorts, bypassing the hem of your panties just as skillfully. All of a sudden there's thick, rough fingers prodding at your pussy, and you cry out in shock as Logan swipes two of his fingers through your puffy slit.

"Look at this," He showcases his evidence, a copious amount of your slick arousal now smeared on his fingers, "All I've done is lay here with you- what is it, the way I smell? My hand on your back? That's all it takes to get you creaming?"

You can't offer up an adequate response in time, mortification sucking every coherent thought from your brain.

"I- no, that's not-!"

Logan chuckles deeply, like he'd predicted that, "Simple thing, aren't'cha? I like it. C'mere, open up for me, honey."

He pats once, twice against your thigh, rough enough to leave a stinging sensation in the wake of his large palm. You don't quite comprehend what 'open up' means until he's scooting you across the couch himself, placing your back up against the arm and spreading your legs to get a glimpse of what's between them.

Your sleep shorts and panties are easily moved out of Logan's way; he tucks two fingers into the waistbands of each and tugs them aside. He's revealed a look at your glistening cunt, now leaking from the way he'd jammed his fingers inside and let your arousal leak out.

"You're soaked." He notes, eyes roving over your drooling cunt, "And all I had to do was be around you."

"Logan, I-" You feel like you should apologize for being so- simple.

His jaw tightens and rolls slightly, but you're not expecting him to lean forwards and spit between your legs. The glob of his saliva lands directly on your already-sticky slit and mixes immediately with your slick, only furthering the obscenity between your thighs.

"There, even wetter." He grunts, taking a rough thumb and smearing his spit into your skin. He lacks grace as he rubs the pad of his thumb into your pussy, but that doesn't mean the sight of him carefully tucking his spit away into your cunt doesn't make you want to cum right then and there.

"Keep that in there," He instructs, as if you have a choice, and he's suddenly broken from his trance as he pulls his fingers away and turns back to the movie. He tucks them promptly into his mouth, eyes on the screen, humming at the taste as he methodically licks them clean, "And later, I'll finger it out of you. You can squirt it all over my face, yeah?"

He grins at you like he's expecting you to shake on it, but at your mortified squeal he scoffs fondly, "Alright, alright, pretend you wouldn't like that. But I will lick you clean, honey."

[dinogoofymutated]

Hi can you write something for Logan? I don’t have anything in particular in mind, but I never see this man get any love. Thanks!

NSFW!Wolverine/AFAB! Reader

Hope this is okay! I tried so hard to post it last night but tumblr kept failing on me. It wouldn't even save as a draft! If you see this before I've added the meat to the fic, it's because I'm testing because tumblr is being a dick and I'll edit in the good stuff soon.

Edit: Yay! It worked! I was just uploading too much at once I guess. Had to brake it all down for it to work!

Tw: MNDI!! pnv, fem reader, creampie, size difference, petnames. Praise kink.

If you asked him personally, Logan would say he's extremely unlucky, cursed even. and With everything he's gone through, he might be correct. But still, he is certainly blessed in at least one aspect.

Logan had a really, really nice cock. It wasn't pretty like the perfect ones in porn, but damn, was it nice. It has prominent veins that you couldn't help but spoil every time you your hands (or mouth) on him. He was flushed a deep red color at the stip, and proportional, a good 5 or six comfortable inches.

The only thing is, Logan's cock was thick. impressively, deliciously thick. When the two of you started to take your relationship to the next level, Logan didn't hesitate to warn you. That didn't stop him from Taking care of you though. He'd pump his thick fingers in an out of you, curling and stretching you, finding the most pleasure spots inside of you to get you to cum and cum hard.

But every time the two of you would get close to going further, he'd back out. It wasn't that he was uncomfortable, or that he didn't want to, he just wanted to make sure he didn't hurt you.He'd always end up saying “ ‘next time, sunshine.” Or “Just wanna make sure I take care of you properly.” and although it was sweet, you knew what you could handle, and you were determined to climb this man like a tree.

And if there was anything Logan knew more than anything, it was to never get in the way of a determined woman.

You had spent what felt like hours in Logan's sheets, his fingers curling deep in your cunt, stretching and touching the most sensitive parts of you. He kissed every tender part of you, letting you writhe and moan underneath him. He wanted to make sure that you were ready for him beyond a shadow of a doubt, knowing how stubborn you are when you really want something. This was no different. And after Cumming twice on his fingers, you were sure you could make it work. Logan sighed as you straddled him, grinding his cock against your slick cunt to try and lube him up. He sets his hands on your thighs, comfortingly caressing the plush skin. The two of you gasp when his head brushes against your Clit, an electric shock of pleasure bolting through your bodies. Logan is laid back against the pillows on his bed, looking up at you with a heated gaze.

“ ‘you okay there, doll?” He asks, the words rumbling through his chest with a groan. He smirks just barely as you scoff, adjusting yourself on your knees as you line his cock up with your slit.

“I'm- fine, I can do this.” You huff, grinding down against his thick head. Logan sucks in a breath as you do so, teeth latching onto his lip as we watches you desperately try to take him. He's not going in as easy as you thought he would, and it almost makes you feel discouraged. You were so sure you could take him, and you didn't want to quit now. Your eyebrows furrow as you struggle, and at some point his cock slips out and away from your hole. Logan lets out a grunt as you flinch, mortified.

“Ah- Sorry.” You're doing your best to not let it get to you, but there was such a sinking feeling in your chest. Almost as if he can sense it, Logan reaches up, taking your chin in-between his thumb and index finder and tilting your head down to look at him.

“It's okay.” Logan assures you. “Just relax. You'll get it.” His thumb drags across your lip, calloused hand brushing against your tits as he brings it down to your clit. He circles the nub gently first, then with a tad bit more pressure. You hear him chuckle as you eyes flutter closed, moaning at the pleasurable sensation.

“okay.” You sigh, trying to align himself with you once again. You try it a little slower this time, grinding down with just enough pressure. The both of you gasp when the head of his cock notches against your slit, an improvement from before. Then, almost suddenly, it slides in.

“Fuck.” Logan grunts. His cock was hardly halfway inside, but that didn't stop the moans you let out at the pleasure- and slight discomfort- of having him inside you. The stretch was slightly painful, but you can't seem to stop yourself from grinding against him, trying to take him further.

“Logan…” The whine of his name comes out involuntarily, and the strong man inbetween your thighs shushes you sweetly, adjusting himself so he's sitting against the headboard. He brings you closer to him, snaking his hand around the nape of your neck to bring you into a kiss. He hardly gives himself time to breathe in between kisses. Logan bites your lip, licking into your mouth when you gasp at the painful pinch. He groans when you clench around his length. Still not quite adjusted to what you could fit, and his hand grabs hold onto your thighs and squeezes.

“I know, sweetheart.” He says, finally pulling back. “I know. Take your time. I'm not going anywhere.” You bite your lip, leaning your head on his shoulder as you begin to move your hips again. The process is slow, sinking onto him inch by inch as your body adjusts to the girth, but when you finally feel the base of his cock finally sink into you, you've never felt so accomplished.

“Good girl.” Logan grunts into your ear. “ ‘did such a good job.” You yelp a little as his hips jerk, thrusting up into you. You cry out Logan's name, holding onto his shoulders as he starts to slowly pull out of you, gently thrusting back inside as he cups your face, kissing you gently. It feels good. Like he's rubbing against every spot inside of you perfectly. His slow, loving pace felt good, so, so good. But it could only keep the two of you satisfied for so long. The next time Logan pulls out of you, you slam down with a little more force. He lets out a choked moan, before you hear him chuckle. He pulls away from you just slightly, arms wrapped around your waist as he smirks at the needy look on your face. You're impatient however, and grind against him sharply when he stops moving. A flicker of pleasure flashes across his face before he's growling. He pulls you against him, pressed flush against your body as he begins to thrust more aggressively.

“Couldn't be patient, could you?” He growls. Your noises are embarrassingly loud as he picks up speed, fucking into you just like you had spent so much time imagining he would- and he was right too. You couldn't be patient. He moves his hips just slightly, hitting that one spongy spot inside of you that makes you see stars. You can't help but cry out, and without having to even tell him, he's hitting thay spot over and over again without fail. His grunts and groans are starting to get louder, and you can feel the knot in your stomach coming so close to snapping.

“Fuck- Logan!” He groans at the way you say his name, the knot snapping as you reach your peak and cum hard on his cock. He curses, burying his face into your neck as he starts to crumble at the feeling of your warm walls fluttering around him, desperately trying to milk him for what he's worth. He almost lets out a whine as he cums, and the noise surprises you. You can feel him twitch as spurts of his cum warm up your insides. By the time he's done, you're sure he must be leaking out of you. You lay against him, boneless as the two of you pant for air. Logan begins to press gentle kisses against your neck, praising you for how well you did. You sigh, content. Logan lays the two of you down on the bed, holding you close as his cock starts to soften inside of you.

Logan Howlett was definitely blessed.

[idkwhatever580]

Embarrassed

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x enhanced!reader (Reader has powers like Wanda's but pink because I'm the author and I can do what I want, and my fav color is pink)

Prompt: Reader's best friend Wanda informs reader about this new thing she learned with Agatha that amped up their sex life. Reader decides to try it out with Nat, and the outcome is better than expected.

Warnings: SMUT, enchanted strap, bondage, slapping, daddy kink (daddy is not a reflection of your gender just a term I used i swear!) cumming without permission?/warning?, swearing, tmi? (Is there such thing as tmi between best friends?), teasing. Top!Reader (semi soft)

A/N: I already had this in my drafts partially finished but then I got a rq and I thought I could incorporate it into this so yeah :) thanks for the request @keirannoa420 <3 (I made reader afab but I think I made them gn for everything else I hope that isn't a problem!)

Today is a simple day for the Avengers. Almost nobody is on a mission today, so everyone is doing their own thing to decompress and rest. Especially since last week was horrible. It was just mission after mission for you and the others.

From what you know, Tony and Bruce are in their lab, Steve and Buck went on a date after visiting Peggy's grave to give her the monthly flowers, Clint went back with his family, Thor and Loki are back at Asgard until needed, Nat is reading in her library, Agatha is in a therapy session (she is still healing from her witchy trauma, good on her!), Vision is probably floating around somewhere, Peter is with Aunt May, the rest of the younger ones are out and about, while you and Wanda are catching up on a much-needed yapping session.

"Omg did you hear what happened on Sam and Tony's mission yesterday?"

You sit up being intrigued, "No, what happened?"

She giggles at the thought of what happened, and says, "He- he"

She can't even tell you what happened without bursting into laughter. "He what! Oh my gosh stop laughing and tell me what happened!"

Your need to hear what happened overpowering your patience, but Wanda eventually can control her laughs into a soft snicker every now and then, "He had to run into the building instead of his usual flying, and he ended up slipping and falling on his back and rolling around because it was raining! Sam got the whole thing recorded thanks to redwing!"

You burst into laughter at the thought of Tony slipping, this surely hurt his ego more than anything. You gasp and say, "Wait... can I see the video? Do you have it?"

She laughs and grabs her phone, "Of course I have the video! I would say I'm surprised you don't have it, but I forgot your phone broke."

You roll your eyes at the reminder of not having a phone to do your daily social media things, but Nat says you need a break from your phone. Joke's on her, you're just bothering her more. (She secretly likes it)

You're drawn away from your thoughts when Wanda holds her phone to your face, the video of Tony slipping funnier than you pictured.

(volume is not necessary for this one)

You both started laughing so hard that tears fell from your eyes, but you both eventually calmed down and were able to change the subject. "So, how's Aggie? I feel like I haven't seen her in months even though I've only been on a mission for a week."

She smiles softly and says, "She's good. Her twice-a-week therapy sessions are really impacting her in a good way. I think she might be having a bit of a hard time adjusting to the Avengers though. She still gets overwhelmed sometimes. Which is what I was scared about. I didn't want to bring her into this space after nine whole months of secretly dating just for her to regress on her progress, but I think she is getting there. Her communication skills are definitely getting better which is helping me accommodate to her needs you know?"

You smile and nod knowingly, "Yeah, I remember coming here for the first time from being a S.H.E.I.L.D. agent, it was terrifying, but my relationship with Nat only grew from where we were. Something is bound to blossom from her too. Anything else interesting with you two?"

Wanda sends me a small smirk and says, "I've been trying out new spells and tricks to cast and I happened to fall upon an interesting spell."

You raise an eyebrow with a tentative voice, "Interesting how?"

She giggles and says, "Okay, so obviously we talk about our sex lives a lot together, but this spell just made bedroom time way better. It's a spell to make an inanimate object basically a part of you. You can feel it and everything that happens to it. So, I tested this spell out on a certain strap-on that we use and let me just say I've never felt so good before. I think you should really try it on Nat, the first time I did it to Aggie, she literally cried because she felt so good."

You raise your eyebrows suggestively and say, "That is quite the interesting find Wands. I'm impressed. You'll have to show me the spell. I think I might try it out on Natty tonight if I can do it right.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a few tries of this new spell with Wanda, you're able to feel everything that happens to the tv remote in your leg. You smirk at Wanda and go to exit the room just as Agatha comes back. You send your goodbyes and almost sprint to Natasha's library, making sure to stop by your room to get a certain backpack.

The joys of having your own floor with Natasha means that the things on that floor are only used by the both of you, unless otherwise provoked. So, you know nobody is going to be walking into this space. This also means that you guys can literally fuck anywhere on that floor, but you are so excited to try this spell on her.

You slow down right before you enter and you saunter in, even though Nat has her noise cancelling headphones on, so you know she won't hear you. You come up behind her and softly rest your arms on her shoulders slowly creeping down to kiss her cheek.

She pulls off her headphones and says, "Hello detka. Do you need anything?"

You simply nod your head and give her a soft kiss on the lips to distract her before carefully snatching the current book she is invested in. She lets go of it but not without a pout, "Baby, I was reading that."

You carefully set the book down after putting a bookmark in. Then you walk around and pull her headphones off her ears which makes her even more confused. Until you sit in her lap and snuggle up to her neck. She softly smiles and starts rubbing patterns on your back. "Aww baby, did you want cuddles?"

You nod your head innocently and she says, "Well I can do that while also reading my book so can I have it back?"

You shake your head, and she realizes there's something else you want. She raises an eyebrow, and skeptically says, "What else is it? Did you do something?"

You pull away from her neck and shake your head, "No, I didn't do nothin', but I'm 'bout to."

She furrows her beautiful brows in confusion but notices the glint in your eyes. She knows this look; she has seen it a million times before. How could she miss it? So, she pouts and says, "Aww is my detka a bit horny?"

You nod your head and whisper, "I want to try something new today."

She smirks and nods, always willing to try everything once, well, almost everything. "Of course, detka, what is it you were wanting to try?"

You smile and say, "You're gonna have to wait and find out."

She rolls her eyes at your antics, but you kiss her on the lips and the words that were on the tip of her tongue fade away quickly.

You both start making out softly, a tenderness infiltrates your hearts that only you two can replicate with each other. The kiss quickly turns aggressive though. Her hands falling to your hips to steady them when they start to move on their own, while yours go to her hair to softly tug on the luscious, fiery locks.

Moans start to spill out of you when your core starts to rub on her thigh, and she starts to unbutton your pants trying to get directly to the source, but you push her away. Before she can question your antics, you reach behind her lounge chair to grab the backpack and wave it in front of her face. She smiles and you both stand up to undress yourselves, not bothering to do it for the other, instead choosing efficiency.

Once she has the strap securely tightened around her hips, you push her back down and sit just before the silicon cock, butt resting on her thighs. "I need you to hold still and be quiet for a moment, okay?"

She furrows her brows and says, "Wait, what are you doing?"

You smile at her and say, "I just need you to trust me so I can work my magic." You kiss her doubts away and whisper, "I think you're going to quite like this."

You cast the spell silently and when it is done, you look in her eyes and there is nothing, but confusion written all over her face. "What did you do?"

You smirk and spit on your hand before softly rubbing the tip of the dildo making her hips jerk. "Woah."

You smirk and say, "Woah indeed. Did that feel good?"

She nods her head and says, "Seriously Y/n, what did you do to me?"

You giggle and say, "I made you be able to feel everything like it is your own."

You shimmy your body down to be eye level with the pink sparkly attachment, and you look up into her eyes with yours being doe like from this angle and you slowly take her length into your mouth.

This new sensation causing Nat to moan helplessly and thread her fingers through your hair. You softly start to play with yourself and stretch yourself out, while making sure to not give her too much stimulation. Once you deem yourself ready to take her, you pull away and Nat glares at you. "Why'd you pull away?"

You smile and kiss her worries away, "So I can do this..."

You grab the attachment and slowly slide yourself onto her. Moaning at the size. She always seems to be so big even when you take her all the time. She moans extra loud when you take her to the hilt, and suddenly her hips jerk and her eyes roll to the back of her head.

You force her to look into your eyes and then you start to bounce up and down while grinding onto her.

Although you are feeling very good, your sole intention is to make Nat feel good today. "How does it feel baby?"

She opens her mouth to say something, but only a measly gasp is heard. After a while, she finally is able to conjure a sentence, "Fuck... it feels- so good."

You smirk and say, "Yeah? You like feeling this pussy clench around you?"

She whimpers and nods her head biting her lip to stifle her sounds. Usually you wouldn't let that slide, but since it is her first time feeling this, you'll give her some grace.

You start to bounce up and down on her cock more aggressively and her hands tighten around your hips. She is completely still excepting the few involuntary thrusts her hips make, which make you moan at the spot she hits when she does this.

Nat's head is thrown back and she finally lets go of her lip, allowing all the beautiful sounds to tumble out of her throat. Her pathetic noises are so hot to you and even hotter when she tries to speak, "Y/n I- it feels, I-"

All of a sudden, her words are cut off with an almost pornographic moan, which makes you so wet because you never hear her be this vocal. Her hips start thrusting into you uncontrollably and her hands are scratching into your hips, not that you care.

You furrow your eyebrows as hers raise in surprise and embarrassment. You slow down and say, "Did you... did you just cum?"

Natasha lets out an exhausted breath and looks at anything but you, until you move her by her chin to look into your eyes. When she sees your eyes, she tears up a bit, "I'm sorry I don't know what's wrong with me! I usually last way longer than that! I wasn't even prepared for it; it just sprang up on me."

She starts to ramble, so you shut her up with a kiss and when you pull away you chuckle softly, "Natty baby, I don't know why you came so fast, but I'll bet you it has something to do with the fact that this spell makes you feel things you've never felt before huh?"

She nods her head, and you smile, "Do you want to keep going or do you want to stop?"

She frowns and says, "I want you to cum."

You smile and shake your head, "That's not what I asked darling, I asked about you."

She thinks about it, and then a nasty thought pops into her brain, and she says, "I wanna keep going."

So, you nod your head, and keep moving and grinding on her, this time she makes it about five minutes before the same thing happens.

You become beyond confused as it looks like she just came again. Once she calms down, you tentatively ask, "Did you just... again?"

Her eyes widen and her face turns redder than her hair. She tears up a bit and tries to shove you off of her to inevitably run off and hide from her embarrassment, but you push on her hips, and she moans again. She still tries to get away, so you cut her thoughts off with soft tone saying, "Darling, don't worry, it's okay if you did, you know? It is a new sensation, and it is normal to have a crazy reaction to it."

She previously covered her red face with her hands to hide, so you carefully pull her hands down and smile at her small frame. "Tasha, why are you hiding from me?"

She finally cracks and says, "Because! That was so embarrassing! I've never finished that fast! So, I am embarrassed because I didn't even get to last long enough to have fun, and don't even mention the fact that you didn't get anything out of it!"

You pout at her with fake pity, "Oh darling," You brush her already sweaty hair out of her face and clench your pussy on her strap making her moan at the feeling, "You don't have to worry about that, trust me, we are going to have fun all night. You'll be begging me to stop."

She timidly nods her head, and you say, "Is that okay?"

She nods and says, "I really want to keep going."

You smile and nod your head, but before you can start riding her again, she pulls you off of her swiftly and flips you over on your hands and knees, slipping right back into your wet cunt.

She leans over to whisper in your ear, "I'm gonna fuck this pussy so hard."

You can only moan in response because she's already thrusting deep and hard into your insides. You consider giving in to her and letting her take over, but you already made your mind up ahead of time and she is not getting in your way. So, with a flick of your wrist, she is flipped over, and ropes appear and tie themselves around her wrists.

You crawl up to her as the pink glimmers fade from your eyes, and shake your head, "Thought you could get away with it huh?"

She doesn't answer and you slap her breast making her jerk and yelp out, "I asked you a question, didn't I?"

She meekly nods her head, and you say, "Then I expect you to answer it."

She nods her head again and you say, "Don't make me ask again."

"Yes! I thought I could get away with it! Please daddy!"

You bite your lip at the power trip you're getting from this, but you make sure to soften up and check on Nat knowing she only uses 'daddy' when she's extra sensitive, "I want you to use the color system just like always, okay? Can you tell me a color?"

She doesn't even hesitate before saying, "Yes! Green, please daddy!"

A sigh falls from your lips at hearing that and you nod your head. "Okay baby, you know I'm not gonna be nice to you right?"

She whimpers and nods her head closing her eyes to center herself. You smirk and flip her over, making the dildo hit the bed when you push her hips down on the bed.

She moans out and you lean forward, your lips brushing softly over the shell of her ear, and you whisper, "Do not cum."

Her eyes widen and she shakes her head knowing she's already sensitive from previous orgasms, and she whines out, "No! Please daddy!"

You chuckle at her desperation and say, "If you're good tonight, I'll find a spell to make it so that you can cum in me too."

She shudders at the thought of being able to "breed" you and both of you feel it, so regardless of how much she already wants to cum, she nods her head and takes a breath to prepare herself.

Right before you are about to start, she yelps out, "Wait!"

You freeze in worry that she doesn't want this anymore, so you pause and look to her and let her speak. Her words come out the first time a quiet jumbled mess so you say, "What was that babe?"

She looks over her shoulder and says a little louder this time, "Can I hold a pillow?"

You think about it for a moment, and ultimately decide that if you're not going to comfort her until after, she might as well have something else to find comfort in, so you nod your head and she grabs a pillow. Once she is situated you wait for her queue and when she nods her head you begin to massage her ass a bit before pulling back and landing a harsh slap on her butt.

Natasha's hips jerk away from your hand, and in turn makes her strap rut against the bed stimulating her. She lets out a mix between a moan and a groan because she feels good, but she also knows you put limitations on her.

You continue your assault on her now red and pink ass, and the lewd sounds that are emitting from Nat's throat are making you more wet than you'd like to admit.

You slap her ass again, and she starts to uncontrollably hump the mattress, and you won't allow her to cum without asking so you grab her hips and lift them from the bed before she can stimulate herself any further. She groans and pleads, "Please. ugh please I need it!"

You simply chuckle and shake your head, "Need it so bad you're willing to give up cumming for a week?"

Her eyes widen at that threat and she whimpers knowing she might not be able to hold back since the last two came out of nowhere, but you lay her back down and say, "two more, then you can cum again."

She nods her head, crossing her fingers that she makes it, and out of nowhere the second to last slap is let out on her skin. It is way harder than all the others, so in turn, it makes Nat almost forget about what you said. Almost.

You hum and rub her ass tenderly, not letting her know when the last one is coming, and the second she whimpers again you pull back and hit her ass so hard it has her shoving her hips back into you.

She catches her breath and rolls around. You tell her to hold still as you are about to disenchant the strap, but Nat says, "Wait, baby, what are you doing?"

You furrow your brows and say, "I thought you said you were done after this orgasm?"

She nods and says, "I held it, I wanna cum with you on my cock."

Her eyes are so sweet and soft you simply can't refuse, so you let her win this time, riding her cock until the both of you come, and then you end up just laying together in a moment of tenderness.

"I love you detka."

"I love you too Natty, I'm glad you liked the surprise."

"Oh, I loved it."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Masterlist

Taglist

@ilovesnat @ihartnat @marvelnatasha12346 @moistblobfish @justarandomreaderxoxo @lovelyy-moonlight @symp4nat @ale-estrabao

Comment to be added to the taglist!!! I have a list of prompts coming out after this :)))

A/N: I hope y'all liked it!!! (Did you catch my Love and Death reference???) Also, I apologize for the rushed ending, I really needed to get this out.

[shadesoflsk]

YOUR? OUR MARGARET

PAIRING: Leon Kennedy x Single mom!reader

SUMMARY: Life slowed down when Leon first saw those tiny rays of sunlight. But he didn't think he would fall in love with the whole sun. Or: Leon falls in love with a single mother.

WARNINGS: Brief mentions of alcohol, government, leon's traumas, love confessions, Leon is a bit insecure and awkward but he's also a sweetheart and has a soft spot for kids, cheesy and corny type of love, this is just fluff believe me!

WORD COUNT: 4.5k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: If I had a nickel for every time I've written about Leon's transition from vendetta to death island I would have two which it isn't a lot but it's funny it happened twice. If you wish to know what song Leon played this is the one I had in mind. As always, I hope you like it. This is my Valentine's Day fic for today!

MY MASTERLIST

Gruesome scenarios and depressive states of mind have tainted Leon's path in life. However, the grizzled and gloomy agent has had a rather rough patch this last year in which he was left alone to die in his own sorrow—Raccoon City, Spain, China and his already-known addiction took a toll on him.

He doesn't have anyone to blame, nor does he want to. Yeah, he could blame the government for stripping him of his innocence and his genuine wish to help people but he felt like he had failed his nation, not the DSO, not the FBI, just him.

Behind closed doors, in the white house and for everyone else he's Agent Leon Kennedy, Mr. Kennedy, and if someone were to ask the president he'd say he's the most trusted weapon the country has. 

He has grown accustomed. His shield has hardened to the point he's numb to most things he should find disturbing or annoying yet he couldn’t help but wish someone would see him the way he really is. 

A bittersweet feeling grew in Leon’s system. Alcohol no longer brought the same dull sensation that’d put him to sleep even in the loudest and sleazy bar. So, slowly he grew out of his addiction. Not alone, though. Alongside him were a couple of therapists which he reluctantly confided in. Not because he didn’t believe in mental health, but because he thought it wasn’t for him.

Also, his friends made his life a bit better. Spare the man the embarrassment, but friendship does indeed make you see the world more colorfully. It was nice hearing his name slip out of his friends' lips. Leon, Leon! Aww, Leon. 

However, life didn’t prepare him for the moment his name was replaced by a:

Dada.

Therapists had told him he should look for a hobby, something that’d fill those moments where boredom or monotony would push him to fall back into his deadly addictions. And he completely understood, he ought to follow the experts’ advice in order to actually improve.

It was rather easier, he was not a complicated man. 

Even before the Raccoon City incident, he loved exercising. Whether it was lifting weights, cycling, or plain running he’d always be found doing something. The mere thought of just lying in bed was something he’d never engage in, especially not now that he’s getting better. 

So, he combined two things. One he was familiar with and a second one he hasn’t been able to really connect with: nature. 

Near his current apartment, there was a small park in which he goes jogging. Usually, his schedule would only allow him to go there in the early hours of the morning where the only people he’d find were retired grandparents who danced to some Spanish music he couldn’t understand.

Peaceful, he liked it. 

But when he was getting used to his daily morning jogging, a call from work told him they needed him ASAP. So, his little detoxicating activity would be postponed to the afternoon. 

After dealing with the usual stress from work, calls from Hunnigan, and a rather bothersome headache, he got to his apartment and decided to get ready and not skip his so-needed jogging. 

The afternoon sky was painted with a hue of blue mixing with the slightest orange color, the gentle breeze hitting Leon’s face as he jogged around the park. His tempo never missed a beat not even after an hour or so between his physical training and some pauses. Sweat fell from his forehead and onto the ground with each step he took, meaning that he was reaching exhaustion.

At last, he found solace under a tree that cast a shadow, perfect for Leon to catch his breath. Closing his eyes, he let his lungs inhale as much air as they could.

His peaceful moment was broken when a tiny voice called out for him. Or rather, mistaken him for someone else.

“Dada!” A little girl came walking to where he was seated, wobbly steps trying to reach him. 

“Margaret!” You appeared out of nowhere before the toddler could reach and hug the stranger. The giggling and excited kid seemed to have heard “run faster” by the way she didn’t stop at your call.

A hint of confusion washed over Leon as he watched the scene develop with rather curious eyes. A mop of curly hair running away from your grasp. The white dress turned into a slightly brown color, Leon guessed the child must have been playing in the dirt.

And then a glimpse of a faint smile replaced his previous bewilderment as his eyes fell on you. As you tried catching your daughter, he observed her antics and your patience. 

Finally, your hands lifted the little one as her tiny legs kicked in the air, ready to run in the air. 

You fixed Margaret’s dress and messy hair while her bright eyes continued being focused on the man sitting on the grass. Her hands doing the typical “grabby” motion to Leon. Sighing in defeat, you spoke to the man.

“Sorry, don’t know what happened.” You sheepishly said as you offered the man an apology for your daughter’s previous mischievous actions. “She usually doesn’t call random people dada I assure you.”

“She gave me quite the scare.” Leon chuckled as he got up from the grass. “My past actions flashed before my eyes.” 

“As I said, I’m sorry.” You repeated your words while your daughter tried wriggling her way out of your arms. When she saw that her mother’s grip wasn’t budging, she took matters into her own hands.

She started crying.

You weren’t letting your daughter play with a stranger, that much you knew. 

“My name’s Leon, by the way.” Leon said, extending his arm, but he pulled back as soon as he saw that you were too busy handling the tantrum your daughter was having. 

You told Leon your name which easily fell from his lips to confirm he heard you well. “Do you normally come here?” You asked.

“Yes, but just in the mornings.” He responded, watching the little one pouting. “Something came out today so duty called. Cops don’t rest.”

“Wait, Are you a cop?” You seemed to relax at the revelation and he couldn’t help but get a Deja Vu from this little interaction. A friend of his asked him the same question, but at least now he wasn’t surrounded by zombies.

“A cop…” A whisper came out from Leon’s lips, a playful yet gentle smile formed on his face. “Kinda.”

“I’ll assume you’re way more important than that.” You adjusted Margaret in your arms when she finally calmed. Although she kept on staring at Leon, her bright eyes focused on him. “Because if you were indeed a cop or a chief you’d be puffing your chest out.”

“Are they always like that?” He acted surprised.

“Here, in New York? I don’t know… you tell me.”

It’s been a while since he last spoke with someone this freely. Surely he has talked with his friends a lot. But they were people he had previously known and shared the same past as him, a connection to the outside world seemed impossible and even greedy in a way.

Soon, both of you found yourselves unable to stop talking, even Margaret chirped from time to time, making her opinion loud and clear. He got to know a bit about you, and you got to know little fragments of his life. The ones who wouldn’t lead him to share more than necessary, obviously.

Despite the rough exterior, his constant frowning stopped as a soft expression replaced it. Margaret's chubby hands absentmindedly held one of Leon’s fingers as he spoke with you, blabbering and being overjoyed by his presence. 

However, her cheerful mood slowly turned sour as soon as she got hungry. Glassy eyes and sobs warned you that the conversation would come to an end.

“Yup, I gotta go.” You murmured trying not to bring more stress to your already distressed baby. “It was nice talking to you.”

“Likewise.” Leon kept his hands in his pockets, unable to come up with anything else. He wanted to say that perhaps they could repeat this. But then again, he’s been so deprived of normal social interactions that he no longer knows if that would sound creepy. 

“Have a good night.” He decided it would be the wisest thing to do. He watched your soft expression as you took your little girl’s hand and waved goodbye. 

Ever since that little interaction, his schedule changed. His morning routine was long forgotten. An excuse was made, something between the lines that his shift changed so he has to work in the mornings. 

And he was delighted to spend time with both of you. The highlights of his whole day would be getting to hear about you and Margaret. 

Each day that passed meant new memories being made. From the way he got to know Margaret’s favorite ice cream flavor to your childhood dreams. Every detail mattered for him because he could now see how simple life could be.

He took—both of you mostly— on little dates. Let it be to try a new cafeteria near the park, drinking an americano while Margaret drank from her sippy cut which was filled with chocolate milk. 

However, there were times in which Margaret would stay with a friend of yours. Allowing you to be alone with Leon. And while he appreciates the joy and happiness your daughter brought, he also loved the moments in which he could focus just on you. 

Sadly, years of training didn’t prepare him to man up and make the first move. When he thought he would brush away every insecurity and second guesses, something would come up. 

He wanted to grab your hand, the waiter would come at the worst time. He wants to compliment you, he'd almost choke with his own saliva. He wanted to give you a goodbye kiss after driving you home, someone would call him.

It was as if the universe was against him.

Thankfully, you had picked up those hints. And if Leon wasn't the luckiest man out there, you can help him in his predicament.

On a usual afternoon, as Margaret played with the leaves that had fallen from the trees, you shot him a question.

“Would you like to have dinner with me?”

“Huh? Yes, it sounds nice.” Leon absentmindedly replied, thinking it would be like the rest of your dates.

“I mean… In my house. I don't think I've invited you yet.”

In the meantime, Margaret had grabbed some leaves which she placed on Leon's hair. The man didn't even react to it, already used to her antics.

“I wouldn't like to intrude.”

“You wouldn't. See it as a friendly meeting.”

Friendly meeting, of course. He couldn’t be so selfish.

“If you insist.” He says as the little one giggles, her smile just showing two teeth. “When would it be?”

“Are you free this 14th?” 

He nods, he doesn't even remember if he's in fact free. But he'd make time. 

Besides, who works on Valentine’s Day?

     ⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

He wishes he would've realized about the implications of the day sooner.

The other dates have been nothing but platonic. Of course he had been nervous, biting his nails to the point where had to put on clear nail polish. 

But this one is for Valentine's Day. Day where people confess their love in dramatic ways. Some lucky people even propose on this date. 

Leon has been out of the dating game for years. He believes he'll mess it up somehow, especially as he sees the reflection of himself in the mirror. 

Of course, he knows he's getting better. But his appearance tells everyone otherwise. His hair continues being dark, a big contrast from his past self whose blond hair would be the talk of some people.

The palm of his hand brushes over his stubble cheek. The sensation of those tiny hairs is similar to blades. He looks at his watch, there is no time to shave. The last thing he wanted was to be late on his first date.

He sighs and walks toward the table, on top of it are two bouquets. One has multiple red and pink roses, that one is for you. The other one consists of a single white rose, for Margaret. Even if he has forgotten the basics of dating, he wouldn’t go empty-handed to your home.

The drive to your house isn’t an easy one. Not because he lacked driving skills, he is pretty much proud of how well he could drive when he is not facing life-or-death situations. 

He takes his car, just for today. He knows he has to be himself and show you his love for bikes. But he would be lying if he wasn’t a tad scared about coming to your house driving his usual motorbike. What would you think? Surely you’d dump him for risking his life or something like that.

But he is so damned anxious. He turns on the radio, trying to muffle his thoughts but the first thing that comes up is a Valentine's Day advertisement. ‘Don’t mess up your date today! Try our newest product and—’ He’s trying, he doesn’t know what the ad is talking about but he needs no product for this date to be a success.

He turns off the stupid machine. After all, today’s music sucks. Nothing personal, he just doesn’t like it. He’d prefer if the radio played real music. Some Deftones and Korn would do. 

But right now he’d dance to anything. Valentine’s Day, after all, should be a romantic getaway from the normalcy of life. Even though years had made him a corny individual, if it’s with you, romanticism should never die.

He’s rambling, his head is a mess. He sees himself slow dancing with you, Somethin’ Stupid playing in the background. He foresees a future in which he could paint next to your daughter, suns and trees never looked so pretty as he imagines that scenario. 

Dating you would come with the whole pack, he knows well. But even at his age, he still feels like a broken child whenever he sees himself in the mirror. Memories of his innocence being stripped away of him and his present still clinging on to the faint threads of hope. 

So that’s why he made the promise of taking this relationship seriously. No matter if you end up being nothing more than friends. People often say that you just know when you meet the one. And he saw the beacons of lights announcing the whole sun when he met you and your little one.

Eventually, he reaches your home. Double-checking the address you had previously sent him over text, he confirms this is the place you live in. A modest house, enough for you and Margaret. 

He switches off the engine and takes out the key from the ignition. Placing his hands one last time on the steering wheel, he takes a deep breath, mentally preparing himself. And with a newfound conviction, he grabs the two bouquets and gets out of the car.

When he walks towards the door, he immediately knocks. If he dared to wait just a second just to calm his anxiety, he’d spend at least 5 minutes staring at the wooden material. So, he sacrifices that priceless time in order to face reality.

A ‘coming’ is heard by Leon a few seconds after he knocks. Eventually, the front door opens and you welcome him with Margaret in your arms. “Hey.” You greet him, Margaret doing the same as she waves her hand.

“Hey, you two.” Leon says with a warm smile, trying to hold back the fact that there hasn’t been a better image than this. “I couldn’t come empty-handed to your house so I took the liberty to bring you these.”

Leon then hands you the bouquets he had brought—the bigger one for you, and the smaller one with a single rose for Margaret. 

“Are these for me?” A dumb question, of course. But there’s no harm to ask and surely it would get a nice reply from Leon who has been dancing around the idea of flirting with you. Too scared to come off as awkward and silly.

“I don’t see another pretty woman around here.” It slips so smoothly out of his lips. Leon Kennedy, you still got it, he mentally praises himself. 

“Yeah, right.” You roll your eyes, satisfied with the answer you received. “Please, come in.”

Leon nods and enters your house. The living room was nicely organized, and the way some toys blended in with the decoration brought a smile to his face. The perfect balance between the sober expected room with the colorful and childish playthings.

You set Margaret on the floor not before giving her the rose Leon gifted her. She absentmindedly walks toward the couch and sits down to inspect what an amazing thing the funny man brought.

“Well, looks like she likes them.” Leon hums as he watches how Margaret starts happily tearing the flower into tiny pieces. Her antics filling Leon’s heart, he could get used to this feeling.

He wants to.

“Yup, definitely.” And your eyes meet Leon’s, his piercing blue eyes are not cold as he often thinks. They remind you of the beach sea, of the gentle waves and the gentleness they carry. 

And he sees himself in yours. In your eyes, he isn’t a cold and depressed agent who is fighting off the odds. He admires the man he’s becoming. The man who despite everything he has experienced, wants to do better.

“I haven’t told you yet but…” Leon trails off as he gathers the courage to do this simple yet nerve-wracking action. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

He grabs your hand and brings it to his lips. Without breaking eye contact, he kisses your knuckles. A gentleman through and through. If he could win your heart, he’d do anything to protect both of you.

Although he was lying, even if he weren’t to win you over, you have already gained a friend who would literally save the world for you to live in with your most beautiful miracle. 

“You’re sappy.” You shake your head laughing, but you don’t push Leon away. In a way, your teasing comes off as a thank you. 

“And you break my heart.” He chuckles, letting go of your hand which falls to your side.

As it does, your eyes fall on Margaret. While she continues playing with torn pieces of the flower, you see her head swaying slowly from side to side, as if fighting off sleep. 

“It’s nap time for little Margaret.” You break the silence as you walk toward Margaret whose tiny fingers still try to tear up the already destroyed rose. 

You pick up Margaret and with the way she isn't getting fuzzy, your assumption was correct. She is fighting against Morpheus, sadly losing.

You glance at Leon who is standing in the same place you left him. Admiring the scene of you carrying your daughter. 

“Would you like to help me?” You murmur. 

Of course he does, he wants nothing more but to embark on this new life. He has seen so much horror and for once, he wants to indulge in this domestic dream of his.

“If you let me.”

Humble, timid, and definitely not showing how enthusiastic he was about helping you. 

You nod and guide him upstairs. Margaret’s room was just next to yours, even though you prefer to sleep with her, still too nervous about her getting tangled in her own blankets.

As both of you reach the room, shades of pink and white greet Leon. Some toys are scattered around the floor too. Proof of Margaret’s wholesome behavior. 

Margaret shifts in your arms, her previous peaceful demeanor changing given the frustration of not falling asleep yet. She is pretty much easy to handle when nap time comes, but today is one of those days.

“You told me I could help.” Leon's hushed voice reaches you. His eyes express the need to assist you in a task like this. 

“Sure…” Your heart flutters as Leon steps up to help you. You indeed asked him if he wanted to come with you. But the fact he had so eagerly accepted the role made you appreciate him even more.

If that was even possible.

As Margaret starts letting out soft cries, you hand her to Leon who is quick to catch her. At first, Margaret is held rather awkwardly which brings a smile to your face before her cries get really serious.

You help Leon by moving his hand. That gains a quiet ‘ok ok’ meaning that he got the hang of it. 

He positions Margaret on his chest, her face seeking the crook of his neck as she continues letting out tiny sobs. With his hand supporting his back, he rocks her.

If anyone were to see him, they'd think he's a father holding his daughter. But in his mind, he's holding your world, his world. 

Oblivious to it, Leon started humming a song. He doesn’t know where he had heard it before. Maybe it came from his mother, a memory he thought was deeply buried in his mind.

Eventually, your baby falls asleep which definitely boosts Leon’s mood as she grins. He's built for this! He thinks.

He lays Margaret in her crib. The little one breathes slowly as she drifts off to dreamland.

Both of you slowly and quietly walk out of the room making sure not to make any loud noise and wake the sleeping princess. 

As you slowly descend from the stairs and are once again in the living room, Leon’s mind is filled with expectations.

What's next?

What is he supposed to do now? 

As if on cue, your words break the silence.

“I forgot to order the food.” You sheepishly admit as you nervously laugh. Between cleaning the house before Leon came and taking care of a toddler the fact that a dinner without food wouldn't be a dinner slipped out of your mind.

“I'll do it right now just give me a second to search for this one restau—”

“Hey, it's okay.” Leon reaches for your arm before you can walk toward where the phone is. He takes this opportunity to do all the things he has wanted to do with you. To accomplish each one of those silly yet endearing wishes of his.

“Besides… this is a great excuse for us to bond more.”

He lets go of your arm but instead, his hand takes out his cellphone. Your eyes curiously watch as he types something.

For a moment, Leon doesn't utter a word and you can see how his fingers are slightly shaking.

Leon looks up from the phone and gives you a gentle smile before he sets the phone aside. After a couple of seconds, the slow and wistful chords of a piano announce the beginning of a song.

“May I have this dance?” Leon extends his hand toward you. 

You opt to accept his hand. In the back of your mind, you wanted to tease him one more time. Just like you did when he told you happy Valentine’s. But you feel this is way more important than those simple words.

As your hand locks with his, he pulls you closer to his body. His free arm finds its home in your lower back, not too low to keep it PG and not to discomfort you in this intimate dance.

Letting him guide you, you sway from side to side. His past self wouldn't have imagined that he could reach this level of serenity and tranquility. The simple thought of having a family was like a faraway dream.

Your head rests comfortably on Leon's shoulder, the scent of his cologne being your new favorite aroma. The one that brings you memories from the time you met him to all the dates you had that led to this very moment.

The song continues its course, and the outside world is forgotten for a moment. No words are exchanged as both of you drown in the homely feeling of dancing in each other's arms.

After a while, without lifting his head and allowing his lips to ever so slightly graze against your ears, Leon's voice cut through the peaceful melody.

“Let me in.” He whispers, his hands ever so slightly tightening around your middle section. His words brush against your ear like the soft melody that plays in the background. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Let me in, in your life. I don’t want to ask you to just be your partner.” The weight and truth of his statement turn your head in a messy place. “I want to be part of your life and Margaret’s.”

He wants to stick around, he wants to be greeted by you and Margaret each time he comes back from a mission. He wants to give Margaret the childhood he never had. And, he wants to fulfill every little dream you and he may have. 

“I want to wake up next to you each morning. To Margaret telling us she's hungry in her own way.” He's always been a man of few words, but in this moment he could recite the whole bible if he wanted. 

“I want to put Margaret to sleep every day just like I did today. And I want to sleep next to you every night, knowing that you're safe.”

“I don't want you to be a memory.” His lips move to the side of your face, daring to kiss your cheeks in a sweet manner. “I want you to be my whole life.”

Smoothly and with ease, his words fall from his lips while his tempo never falters. His thumb now softly rubs your skin, where his hand is located to support your back in the dance.

He'd want to take pride and tell you he's that good with words. However, many times he has rehearsed this speech that if he had stumbled on his words he'd have let the earth swallow him.

And as the song came to an end, so did Leon’s confession. 

A few seconds of silence create the worst nightmare in Leon's imagination. He could already hear your words telling him you don't feel the same that you're already in love with someone else or—

Your knuckles caress Leon’s face, feeling the growing stubble on his cheek and jaw. The sensation of being touched like this has been a long-distance memory that he's completely forgotten what being loved felt like.

He now feels both of your hands cupping his face, prompting him to look you in the eyes. His blue eyes lock with yours and admire the softest of expressions drawn on your face.

As he gazes into you, he can only think how in love he is. And what a good life awaits for him.

And what feels like both an eternity and a split second, your lips connect with his in a tender yet meaningful kiss. One that he's been expecting after all this time.

The one is indeed not a myth.

AUTHOR'S NOTE 2: I had so much fun writing this. There's something about found family that makes me all soft and sappy lmao. And sorry if my despiction about cops is wrong... I've never set foot in the US so spare your writer the embarrassment. Anyway, I hope you all have a beautiful day! No matter if you spend it with your lover, friends or alone. (Dividers are from: @/cafekitsune)

💬 SHADESOFLSK: Comments, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated.

[drunk-person]

Uncontrollably (One shot)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x cousin!reader

Summary: After long years without seeing each other, Aemond is reunited with his cousin who came from Dragon Stone for a festival in the kingdom. And after a warm reunion in the library Aemond decides, against his better judgment, to visit his cousin's room just as they did when they were younger before her father, Prince Daemon, took her to Dragon Stone. He just didn't count on the fact that things could get so out of his control.

WARNING: 18+ mdni! Smut, p in v, fingering, Oral Sex, loss of virginity, no description for reader.

Word cont: 3.900 k

Author's note: This One shot is a deleted scene from a chapter of a long fic I've been writing for a while. However, after writing it, I didn't think the scene was so consistent with the story's setting and I rewrote it differently, so I decided to share the deleted scene with you. I hope you like it, and again English is not my first language.

Aemond knew he shouldn't be there. Not after what had happened in the library, he knew he was playing with his luck, testing his own self-control. But he couldn't help it. Y/n was so close, he knew how to get to her, it wouldn't be long now before she would have to return to Dragon Stone again, and then he didn't know when he would see her again.

— To hell with it. — He sighed before pushing the wall and finding himself inside the wardrobe of Y/n's room. Aemond took a deep breath and knocked twice on the wardrobe door from the inside.

— Aem? — Came her sweet voice with expectation and a slight fear outside.

— Yes, it's me. — He replied nervously and then the light illuminated the dark wardrobe as Y/n opened the door smiling at him. Aemond tried, but couldn't help but look from top to bottom, she was only wearing a nightgown with a very thin fabric and a silk and lace cloak on top.

— Hey. — She said shyly as she closed the front part of the slip, better hiding her body from his eyes.

— Hello. — Aemond cleared his throat a little nervously — I thought we would read a little, just like the old days.

He lifted the book "Tales of Ancient Valyria" that he had in his hands, still inside her wardrobe, her favorite book, and Y/n's eyes lit up.

— Well, first you need to get out of the wardrobe. — Her playful voice made Aemond's body relax as he smiled and lowered his head to get out of the furniture without hitting the top. He then saw Y/n's eyes staring at him in awe.

— What it was? — He smiled, already out of the wardrobe and facing Y/n in the room.

— You got so tall. — She spoke simply.

— Did you just realize that now? — Aemond frowned, teasing her.

— Certainly not. — She laughed. — But it's strange to see you coming out of the wardrobe so big, when the last time you did that we were practically the same height.

Aemond smiled and guided her by the hand to the rug in front of the fireplace, feeling the skin on his hands tingle where his palm met hers. He sat on the floor and just like when they were younger, Y/n sat next to him, leaning her head on Aemond's shoulder gently, and the prince had to hold back a sigh.

He began to read aloud the Valyrian words from the book that he already knew by heart from so many times he had read it with her in mind. Aemond practically recited the stories, and barely wasted time looking at the pages, focusing too much on admiring the beauty of the princess lying on his shoulder.

— Se skori janderys geptot, zȳhon ābrazȳrys ozmijiō zirȳla tolvie tubis, se ziry jumban syt zȳhon amāzigon, gīda skori everyone ivestretan zȳhon ziry istan. — Aemond recited this part almost whispering, lost amid Y/n's beauty.

"And when Janderys was gone, her wife missed her every day. She waited patiently for her return, even when everyone told her it was impossible."

After that part, Y/n looked at Aemond and he didn't dare look in another direction, he just got lost in the beautiful eyes that he loved so much. Her sweet smell entering his nostrils intoxicated him and he felt his entire body shudder from one moment to the next with her proximity. The lack of control almost took over him once again, as had become common in the last few days, but this time he got up quickly, leaving the book lying on the carpet next to Y/n.

Aemond pulled away a little as he tried to regain his senses and contain the urge to kiss her again, just like he had done in the library. When they were children everything was so much simpler. Why now that he was a man couldn't he just sit on the rug and read a book with her without feeling like he was going to combust?

And just as thoughts were starting to flow again in Aemond's mind he felt the touch of Y/n's hand on his shoulder, the intoxicating smell once again overwhelming him.

— Aem? — She called him with that sweet voice that did things to his mind that he never thought possible. Aemond pressed firmly on the eye, keeping it firmly in place. — Are you okay?

— I am. — He turned back to Y/n, trying to maintain his composure, but as soon as he turned back, his gaze went straight to her red lips. Aemond quickly looked away, trying to look anywhere but at her lips. But then... his eyes fell onto the bedside table and the prince's eye pupil dilated instantly.

The tournament crown he had given her.

— You brought it with you.

— Of course, it's not every day that I'm crowned the queen of love and beauty by the greatest warrior in the kingdom.

His words awakened something within him that he hadn't yet realized. Such a feeling of possession and pride washing over him that Aemond could barely breathe, he didn't want to breathe, unless the air was the same as Y/n's.

The memory of the sounds she made against his neck in the library while she rubbed against his clothed thigh and that he tried not to think about tonight at all costs flooded his mind, the way she looked at him full of desire when he handed her that crown dominated him, the feeling of her skin against his during the dance that she had granted him hours before made him lose the control he swore to maintain.

And without being able to contain himself, Aemond pulled her firmly towards him by the hips and kissed her on the mouth hungrily. He wanted her so much it hurt. Y/n sighed and took her hands to his hair, tangling them in the silky strands as she pulled him even closer into the kiss.

He squeezed her hips between his fingers as he had been dreaming of doing for some time, and lightly squeezed her ass, pulling her closer and closer amidst the voracious kisses. Aemond kissed Y/n's neck while they both tried to catch their breath, he gave light bites and sucked in some spots while she sighed for him.

— Aemond.

She moaned his name sweetly and Aemond barely had control over himself when he raised his hands that were on her hips to the top of her back and holding tight to the collar of the fragile nightdress he tore it, making Y/n moan and rub herself against him as the pieces of fabric fell to the floor.

The Vision in front of him could easily have killed him. The naked body he had only seen in his wildest dreams was even more beautiful than he could have dreamed, it was perfect. Her breasts were as beautiful as he had imagined, the delicate curves of her waist and hips seemed designed by the gods themselves and between her beautiful thighs that she pressed firmly in search of relief, her intimacy that he was sure was already wet for him.

Aemond wanted to control himself, he would control himself. But he wanted to at least prove it first. And then he swore to himself that he would just taste her and pleasure her, just as he had the day before, and then he would leave. He would ask the gods for forgiveness for his indolence, and everything would be fine.

And with that thought he approached her again with his hungry gaze pulling her for another kiss while he brought his hands to her ass cheeks, squeezing firmly. Aemond guided Y/n to the bed and sat her down on the mattress with a mischievous smile on her face. She then looked up at him, looking confused with her lips swollen from kissing and the skin on her neck slightly red.

— Open your legs for me jorrāelagon. — He asked softly as he knelt in front of her, Y/n felt her whole body burn with shame, but obeyed, languidly opening her legs before Aemond's hungry eyes. My love

He said a filthy curse in Valyrian that made her blush even more if possible as he brought both hands to her smooth thighs, caressing and squeezing them. Aemond began caressing his left hand slowly while listening to Y/n's sighs and when he got to where he wanted he gently separated his lips from Y/n's intimacy and took two fingers to her sensitive pearl, caressing it.

Y/n sighed with pleasure at the new sensation of Aemond's fingers caressing her, and when he brought his fingers to her entrance and slowly placed them inside, making soft back and forth movements, she threw her head back while biting her lips.

Aemond enjoyed watching her reactions and smiled when he saw a slight frown of disappointment form when he moved her hand away, moving it back to his thigh. But before she could say anything, he firmly grabbed both of her thighs to keep them open. and dipped his head between her legs, licking her firmly from the entrance to the pearl.

Y/n moaned loudly at the sensation and gripped the sheets tightly between her fingers, and Aemond groaned as he finally felt her sweet taste on the tip of his tongue. He penetrated her tongue with his tongue and Y/n squirmed, begging for more.

— Aemond. — She said his name like a song, and he responded by giving her more and more pleasure, going deeper between her thighs with even more desire as he felt her squirm under his care. His mouth took every little part of her pussy for himself, while his nose hit her clit in a way that made her want to scream.

Y/n felt her entire body out of control, the feeling a thousand times stronger than the day before in the library. Spasms wracked her body and without control she fell back onto the sheets as she arched her back and moaned desperately. She took her hands to Aemond's hair, tangling her fingers between the strands and practically rubbing herself against his face without any shame.

— Aemond. — She practically screamed when she reached her peak, writhing against Aemond's mouth as he sucked her as if his life depended on it.

He felt her spongy walls contract more and more against his tongue and the delicious spasms brought with them Y/n's orgasm. Her taste numbed him, he wanted to feel that taste on his lips forever. The sound of her voice screaming his name at her peak almost drove him crazy, he wanted more.

Aemond moved up his lips, leaving kisses on her sensitive intimacy while he felt her shudder, and he went up her belly, kissing and sucking slowly, drawing sighs of pleasure from Y/n.

—It tastes so good. — He said as he continued to kiss more amidst the gasps of pleasure that Y/n emitted. — Sweet and perfect, like everything about you.

The kisses reached her breasts, and Aemond knew he should stop, that this was going too far and her virtue was at stake. But he told himself that if he could just touch those perfect breasts he would be satisfied. And then he took her left breast into his mouth and sucked it hard, driving her crazy as she had barely recovered from her recent orgasm. He squeezed her other breast with his hand, and gently pinched her nipple, giving her even more pleasure. Breasts so good, made for him to love, made for him to suck, with every sound made by Y/n, Aemond thought he was going to die

—So sensitive. So good for me.

Aemond rubbed his clothed body against her naked body looking for pleasure, his hardness pressing against her intimacy. He could feel her fluids moistening his pants and he moaned in pleasure at the sensation.

— Just for you Aemond. — She moaned sweetly at him. — Only yours.

A feeling of possessiveness came over him when he heard her say those words. From him. He wanted so badly to feel her bare skin against his bare skin, he needs to have that feeling at least once in his life. And he assured himself that he would go no further than that, that he would keep her maidenhood intact.

Aemond felt Y/n's hands pulling him by his clothes as she tried to kiss his neck just like he had done to her. And he ripped off his doublet and threw it haphazardly on the floor, then removing the lighter shirt he was wearing underneath and throwing it too, leaving his chest bare under Y/n's watchful gaze.

She pulled him back to her and kissed him passionately on the lips, and Aemond felt his skin burn and tingle as it came into contact with hers. Her warm breasts rubbing against his chest, Aemond took his hands to her back and pulled her further up onto the bed, where the two became even more entangled in kisses as they rubbed against each other in search of pleasure.

Y/n put her hand on the drawstring that held Aemond's pants in place and he held her hands, stopping her from pulling.

— Aemond. — She sighed his name with her eyes closed.

— I can't do that. — He spoke against her neck. — It would ruin you.

— I just want to feel you... feel your body against mine. — She sighed and scratched his back. — It's not fair that I'm naked and you're not.

Aemond took a deep breath and then inhaled. He couldn't do that, it would be going too far. The prince then got up from the bed with difficulty as he tried to move away from her delicious body.

— Aemond. — She begged there sprawled on the bed, naked, with her hair messy, her lips red from kissing and her silky legs parted as moisture ran down her thighs. He couldn't deny her. Just that more and he would go away to his own room, he was a gentleman. He wouldn't take Y/n's virtue without being married to her.

He untied his pants under her watchful gaze and then ripped them off, throwing them in the pile of clothes, leaving him completely naked, with just his eye patch. Aemond walked to the bed again and lay down on her body, now being able to feel the moisture that dripped from her directly onto his dick. By the Gods, how he would like to bury himself in her.

The two kissed eagerly and Y/n intertwined her legs against Aemond's slim waist in search of friction, making him moan against her lips as he rubbed himself against that hot moisture.

— Take it off. — She begged breathlessly between kisses, putting her hand to her eye patch.

— No. — Aemond denied, gently taking her hand away from the eye patch and stopping kissing her neck.

— Please Aemond. — She begged, looking at him while caressing his face. — I want to see you in full, I don't care about scars.

And Aemond knew that there was nothing in this world that she begged him naked under his body that he wouldn't do. If she asked him right now to ride Vhagar and burn an entire city, he would burn it without a second thought. And taking his hand to his face, he removed the eye patch, looking at her slightly nervous, fearing to see rejection in the eyes he loved so much.

Y/n admired him enchantedly. It was different from the last time she saw him, there was a shiny sapphire stone where Aemond's eye had once been and the wound was well healed. Y/n gently brought her hand towards his eye, stroking it softly the region.

— It hurts? — She asked in a soft voice.Aemond shook his head slightly as he turned and placed a kiss on Y/n's palm.

— Almost no more.

— Gevie. — She said with a look of pure adoration as she pulled him into another passionate kiss that made Aemond sigh.

Y/n kissed his way up his face until she reached his left eye where the sapphire was and she left a long and affectionate kiss, as if Aemond was the most important thing in her world.

— Vok issa jorrāelagon. — She said with her eyes full of pure adoration, making some tears well up in Aemond's eye, who, with a genuine smile, kissed her even more passionately than before. You are perfect my love.

— Ao issi vok, se olvie gevie mirre vēttan ondoso se jaes. — He spoke with his face glued to hers while rubbing their noses and lips against each other in an extremely intimate way. You are perfection, the most beautiful creature ever made by the gods.

Aemond's throbbing member rubbed against Y/n's wetness, leaving them both panting with desire amidst the intimate caresses. And she wanted him so badly in that moment, more than anything she had ever wanted in her life.

— Aem. — She whimpered. — I want you. I want you so badly.

— We can not do that. — He panted, pulling away slightly from her.

Y/n tangled her fingers in his silver hair, pulling him back into a voracious and messy kiss.

— Y/n... — Aemond sighed between the kiss, trying to pull away, but not having the strength to do so, he wanted so much, but knew he shouldn't.

— I was made to be yours. — She grunted, holding him by the hair and looking at him in a way that bordered on despair. — Only yours. Not from him.

Him. Aemond knew who she was talking about, and for a moment in that haze of lust he had forgotten about that bastard who wanted to steal what was his.

— Aemond, I'd rather die, I'd rather be ruined, I'd rather anything than let him lay his hands on me. I feel sick at the thought of him putting his hands on my body. I don't want him. I want you. With everything in me, I want you. She looked directly into his eyes as she spoke, still holding him by his silky silver hair.

— I am begging you Aemond Targaryen. — She sighed beneath him, her eyes shining with desire. — Ruin me.

Aemond can't resist any longer, not with her begging like that. And with a groan he looked into her eyes and began to penetrate her soft, warm intimacy with his hard bulge. And at that moment he came to the conclusion that he had never felt anything as good as that in his entire life.

Y/n dug her nails into Aemond's back as she felt him slowly enter her insides.

— Aemond. — She sighed amidst the pleasure and slight pain and he immediately stood still, looking at her with slightly frightened eyes.

— Did I hurt you?

— No. — Y/n grabbed his shoulders pulling him closer to her. —Don't stop, I'm fine.

Aemond continued pushing inside her slowly, fearing to hurt her in any way, and little by little he sheathed himself completely inside Y/n, who was squeezing his shoulders and scratching him lightly. Aemond lay still inside her, panting as he felt her hot walls pressing and pulling him closer and closer, and trying to contain himself he buried his head in the curve between Y/n's neck and shoulder.

— You can move. — She sighed.

—Are you sure? — Aemond asked, looking into her eyes again while trying to contain himself.

Y/n confirmed with her head, putting her hands through Aemond's already messy hair and pulling him into a wet, slow kiss that got messier as he started to move inside her.

Aemond pushed himself lightly inside her and felt her gasp into the kiss and pull his hair. He then started to move harder and faster and the feeling of y/n's intimacy contracting against him was killing him.

— So good. — He moaned to her amidst the kisses and thrusts that became increasingly stronger as he lost himself in Y/n's moans.

— More. — She begged amidst moans. — Please Aemond, more.

Aemond bit her neck hard and sucked it uncontrollably when he heard her cry out for him like that. He then fucked her hard and loudly while they both panted amid the kisses and love bites, the prince seemed obsessed with her neck and was sucking it in an almost animalistic way at that point.

— Mine. — He panted.

He then took his right hand to her breast and desperately bit and kissed it down her lap until he reached the other breast, putting it in his mouth and sucking it as if he were going to devour it. Y/n threw her head back in pleasure at feeling so many sensations at the same time, and when he removed his hand from her breast and placed it between her legs, caressing her furiously, Y/n felt like she had lost all control over her own body.

— Yours, only yours Aemond. Always only yours.

The pleasure that hit her was even stronger than before, the feeling of Aemond inside her made her want to cry with joy. His naked body against hers, his mouth kissing her everywhere and she came against his cock pressing and milking it while she moaned Aemond's name wildly, crossed both legs against his naked ass and scratched his back pulling him closer and closer.

Aemond, feeling her coming and pressing against him, could no longer resist and without thinking about anything, without looking at tomorrow or the possible consequences, he spilled his seed deep inside Y/n while moaning breathlessly looking at her contorted face of pleasure.

— I love you. — He declared in the midst of pleasure and he could see her eyes, lost in pleasure, filling with tears as she brought her hand to his face and caressed it.

— I love you too.

And completely exhausted after the climax, they both fell into unconsciousness, still naked and hugging each other with satisfied smiles on their faces that lasted until the next morning, when Aemond did not appear to do his morning chores and they were both awakened by the horrified scream of the queen at the enter his niece’s room. Followed by Aegon who, upon seeing the scene, gave a malicious smile towards Aemond.

— Well it looks like we're not going to have a wedding anymore, at least not one with little Jace, isn't that brother?

---------------------------¤¤-----------------------

Tag list: @anukulee

[noparadiseinthis]

English is not my first language. Bear with me, Grammarly helps, but it doesn't work miracles

I've never got past that part

Spencer Reid/fem!Reader

Warnings: Literally none, just cuteness - if you ignore Spencer's slight insecurity.

Summary: Morgan encourages Spencer to ask out the barista at the nearby BAU coffee shop. Already expecting a rejection, he is surprised by the result. (I like to imagine Reid from the first season here, the one who had never asked anyone)

"Come on, handsome. You'll never know unless you ask her." Morgan said, adopting a big-brother demeanor with Spencer as he slipped one of his arms around the boy's neck. "First time for everything, huh?"

Spencer cursed the day he let Morgan know that he never asked anyone for a date. Since then, the man seemed to be on a mission to set him up on a date and as soon as he saw the red cheeks and wandering eyes the young doctor had for you, he knew immediately.

"You clearly have a crush on her."

"No, I don't." Spencer hissed, trying to get out of Morgan's grip. "And keep your voice down." He whispered gruffly, glancing quickly at you to make sure you hadn't heard anything.

Derek rolled his eyes, puffing out his chest to start a motivational speech, or his version of it, at least. "Look, I don't want to spend the rest of my life making fun of you for not going on a date. Stop wasting opportunities."

Spencer looked up at his friend, looking a little wary and shy as he asked, "Opportunities?".

"For a genius, you can be pretty oblivious. The girl has a crush on you too."

Reid's eyes widened, although he tried not to show too much reaction. Was it possible? That you look at him the way he looks at you. "You think?"

When Spencer met you, he was sure he was screwed, completely paralyzed by your appearance, and he embarrassed himself by spending long minutes in silence until he pulled himself together and made his request. With his increasingly frequent visits - and the extra coffees he brought for the team members in the morning, which no one complained about - he saw beyond your beauty, and what he saw only made his crush grow stronger. He had already decided, however, to ignore it completely and let nature take its course and put an end to his feelings for you. But what if he didn't have to do that? What if it could be more?

"I'm sure."

The heart eyes, the excited smile you opened when you saw Spencer walk through the door and the way you blushed and fiddled with your hair while he ordered didn't lie. Reid may have missed those signs, but Derek didn't.

You watched the scene with more curiosity and amusement than you probably should have. In the corner of the café, the two men stood with their backs to you, Derek - the one you met today - cradling Spencer in one of his arms while they seemed to be having a serious discussion. You weren't the nosy type, but you'd give anything to know what they were talking about.

Spencer was a regular customer, as were several other FBI agents, but there was something special about the young genius who could recite complete passages of foreign poetry in their original language and still blush every time you drew a heart next to his name on the glass.

You liked to think that you put a dose of affection into every drink you made, but with his, you certainly took twice as much care, never failing to laugh at the huge amounts of sugar that were needed. You finished the two coffees, wrote the names on the cups even though you didn't need to at that point, and called out loudly. "Spencer and Derek."

Spencer was startled to hear his name called and Derek smiled at seeing his friend so affected. "Go on, tiger." He said with a laugh, pushing Spencer towards the counter and giving him an encouraging pat on the shoulder.

Spencer preferred to think that he didn't approach the counter as slowly as it seemed in his head. Thousands of phrases came to mind, but none of them seemed right. When he only took the coffee with a quick "thank you," turning to leave, Derek regretted it internally. No, kid, he thought with agony.

One step away from you and Reid reconsidered, taking a deep breath so as not to chicken out before turning back to you, who stared at his departure with the feeling that you had done something wrong since he hadn't stopped to have his usual conversation, which would normally last until work dragged him down or your manager started looking at you with something akin to anger

"I was thinking..." He began, but stopped midway, looking into your anxious eyes.

God, was that really happening? Was it what you imagined?

"Do you want to do something? One day when you're free." He said, scratching the back of his head.

It was what you had imagined. Your heart raced as you jumped inside. "Like a date?" You asked, just to make sure you hadn't taken it the wrong way.

And before he could turn around again, you gave your answer. "I'd love to!"

"Yeah, like a date." He replied, interpreting your question as surprise and refusal. "But it's not necessary, you know? Just... forget I said that."

That's it, kid! Derek smiled proudly, watching the two of you with total indiscretion.

Spencer's eyes widened, taking a few seconds to process the fact that you had accepted! It was real. Maybe Elle was right.

"That's... great." He said, a small, shy smile appearing as he looked away.

"And where are you taking me?" You asked, flirting with him a little.

That's when Spencer realized. "I don't know," he admitted embarrassedly, "I've never got past that part."

You laughed, but you didn't seem to be mocking him, you seemed to be laughing with him. "You're cute," you murmured, making him blush a little. You looked around, and when you saw that your manager wasn't around, you pulled out a piece of paper and a pen, wrote quickly, and handed it to him. "Tell you what, you decide where we're going and let me know, OK?"

He took your number as if it were some kind of treasure, his eyes a little delighted, and almost forgot to answer. "Of course! Yeah... I'll see you later."

"Bye, come again!" You exclaimed happily, returning to your dedicated barista facade.

As they left the establishment, Derek's huge smile returned, as did his arm around Spencer's neck. "I said, congratulations, big boy. You're a man now."

Spencer hardly minded the teasing this time, thinking about your smile and asking Gideon for the address of that restaurant he had praised.

[hanjsquokka]

when the cherry blossoms fall.

lee minho × fem!reader — soulmate au, high school au, time traveling, love at first sight, drawing closer × lovely runner, fluff/angst

summary — minho wasn't meant to see you there, falling for you before he even knew your name or why you were attached to that tube. fate was so cruel to bring you close, only to pull you away before he got to tell you those three little words he was keeping inside him. but when the same cruel destiny presented an opportunity to make things right, he wasn't going to let it slip away from him again.

warnings — mentions of illness, death, hospitals, time traveling, depression, characters are aged 18/19 for half of the story, blood (i don't want to spoil the whole plot so i'll just leave it at this)

word count — 6.7K words

soundtrack — listen here

author's note — drawing closer broke me. i have never cried so much, it was just so sad :(. i love writing high school au sm, it's a lot of fun. this layout is inspired by the lovely @starseungs <3 i hope you enjoy reading this. please reblog and comment, i'd love to hear your thoughts since this is something very different to what i've written before <33

The fan above him spun around with a loud creak, making more noise than giving him air. The environment was cold outside, with winter still clinging to the wind, making a chill run down his spine amidst his worry for his friend. Hyunjin was far too reckless for his own good—why did he never listen to Minho? He was right after all. He did that stupid skateboard stunt, and now look what happened. Minho had to bring him to the hospital because he was almost a hundred percent sure he broke his leg.

“You're not a teenager anymore, Hyunjin,” Minho chided as Hyunjin paid him no heed, too excited to ride the skateboard that he found in the dusty boxes of his garage. Once upon a time, Hyunjin was really good at skateboarding. But it had been years since then. “At least do something normal.”

“Normal is for losers.”

He shook his head, not wanting to recount the sound of the sickening crack of the skateboard followed by his friend's wail of pain. A wave of goosebumps formed over his skin as he tried to focus on something else, like how he would tell him I told you so when he saw him about how he could be as dumb as he was seven years ago and watch him roll his eyes. He gazed at the branch of the sakura tree he could see outside the window, still bare from the snowy months.

The faint smell of soap was followed by loud giggles. He turned his head to the source of the sound, eyes following on a couple young kids jumping up and down as they were surrounded by bubbles, dancing around a person sitting in a wheelchair. 

That was when he saw you.

You blew another bout of the soapy spheres, the sunlight refracting through them and creating tiny, diffused rainbows. Your eyes nearly turned into crescents, crinkling at the corners as you laughed along with the children. Your smile was so contagious that he could feel the corners of his own lips tugging upward. It was like the filter of his eyes changed, and the world suddenly became more vibrant and colorful—just because of you. He didn't even notice the tube that ran along beneath your nose, the way you couldn't move your body beneath your waist, or the ill-fitting hospital gown you had on. 

Minho couldn't tear his eyes away from you, not even when a nurse approached him to inform him of Hyunjin's condition. A quick snap brought him out of his trance, his ears turning red along with his cheeks. He quietly got up and shuffled behind the nurse towards the room Hyunjin was resting in.

Over the next week, Minho visited the hospital twice a day to meet Hyunjin, once in the morning before work and once in the evening after work. A couple of their other friends came every now and then, but it was mostly just Minho.

And he wanted to keep it that way.

Not to be disrespectful to his friend, but he wanted to see you without getting hounded by relentless teasing and possibly drive you away (not like he had ever spoken to you; no, this was all in his head).

There was something about you that drew Minho in, like a moth to a flame. Like he knew you from somewhere, but he couldn't put a finger on it.

The following Sunday, the day Hyunjin was being discharged, Minho was there at the hospital. He was miserably failing at operating the water cooler to quench his parched throat, his ears turning pink from the effort of trying to find out why water wasn't coming out of the faucet when he turned the knob. 

“That thing has never worked,” a voice said from behind. You approached him in your wheelchair, a permanent smile on your face as you looked at him, hands folded in your lap.

“Oh…” He felt stupid. 

“Here you go.” You handed him a plastic water bottle, which he gratefully took and took a few gulps, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I've seen you a lot around here; are you unwell?”

“Oh? No, no—my friend—he did something stupid and broke his leg. I didn't want to leave him alone.”

You nodded your head. “That's sad. Is he okay?”

Minho nodded. “He's okay enough to talk my ear off.” He chuckled, to which you chuckled in return. A warm, fluttery feeling rose on his chest at the thought of him making you smile. “Thank you... for the water.”

“No problem. You looked like you were going to break that.”

“Was I?” His face flushed, and he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand sheepishly at your words. 

“What's your name?”

“Minho. What about you?”

“Y/n.”

Y/n… He liked that. He wanted to say something more—to keep talking to you so he could hear that voice of yours that made his heart tap dance in his rib cage when a group of kids ran up to you, talking over each other in excited giggles and shrieks. You laughed along with them as they tugged at your hand.

“I'm sorry. I'll see you again later?” He nodded quickly, forgetting that Hyunjin was going to be discharged. He had no reason to come back, but you wanted him to come back, right? Or were you just being polite in front of the kids so he wouldn't be reduced to a pile of shame?

Despite his conflicting thoughts, he found himself visiting the hospital every day without fail, hoping to at least catch a glimpse of you, and was surprised to see you waiting for him near the water cooler. That set your friendship in motion, with you talking endlessly every evening about anything and everything. The invisible red string that tied him to you brought him closer and closer. You were a siren, and he was a sailor entranced by your voice.

The weather grew warmer, and spring began to show itself in the trees and in the flowers. The snow-covered roads were no longer a hassle to drive on, and Minho could finally put away his boots, opting for a more comfortable pair of shoes for work and to visit you. Like clockwork, at five in the evening, he switched off his computer, shoved his papers into his work bag, and made a beeline for his car, no longer needing a map because he already knew the way.

You were there waiting for him in your room after he checked in at the reception, eager to tell him more tales and funny stories, anecdotes of other patients, and the kids you hung out with. Sometimes, you and he would talk for hours. Sometimes, you sat in silence, sketching away in your book, while he sat beside you, reading a book.

Minho showed you pictures of his three cats, which you dawned on almost immediately, cooing at the sight of the three kitties, making his heart melt. He wished he could bring them, but he couldn't, so he showed you as many videos and photos he could since they seemed to bring you immense joy.

Some days, however, you could hardly sit up, laying down on the bed with a grimace on your face. You thought you could hide from him, but he knew you were in pain. He was in pain, seeing you like that. You didn't mention it in your endless conversation, so he assumed you didn't like to talk about it.

He never asked you why you were in the hospital in the first place, why all the happiness drained out of your face when you tried to move in your wheelchair, why that tube sat above your pretty pink lips—he didn't see all that. He only saw you.

You and your wonderful smile.

You and your ability to light up his world.

You and the way you always made his heart skip a beat.

You and your beautiful eyes that he swore held galaxies inside; he could stare at them forever.

“I can't wait for the sakuras to bloom,” you said one day, the two of you sitting in the shade of a cherry blossom outside of the hospital. “It's my favorite part of the whole year.” But while you were looking at the budding pink blossoms, he was looking at your face.

He was falling. Falling hard. You were the first thought on his mind when he woke up and the last one when he went to sleep. He dreamed of you, sweet little fantasies of spending the rest of his life with you.

He knew you better than himself, that you liked pancakes drowned in syrup and berries on top, that you loved a specific type of daisy called a gerbera daisy—a flower that looked as vibrant as you, that you hated the thunder but loved the rain, and that you were an amazing artist. Your dreams of becoming a painter and having something in the Louvre Museum in Paris, visiting the top of Tokyo Tower, and swimming at the beach. It made you so happy to talk about them that it made him happy, grinning ear to ear as you animatedly explained all the details to him.

“Whoa, we were in the same class,” Minho said, eyes wide with shock as he looked at the yearbook in your hands. You were both on the topic of school when you found out that the place you were describing felt too similar. It was only when you talked about a certain math teacher that you realized it was the same person.

Minho dug through his old school things at home and found his yearbook; the insides of the cover were scribbled with so many names of people whom he used to call friends.

It was funny how you two had crossed paths before, but he had no recollection of you. He silently cursed at his past teenage self for not knowing you—then again, fate worked in different ways.

“Yeah, I was looking through it, and I saw your face. Weird, right?” He nodded, looking at the photo of you from seven years ago. You looked almost exactly the same, except now your hair has grown out much more. How had he never noticed you?

His feelings towards you have only increased since then, to the point where they felt suffocating to bottle up inside him. Like a volcano waiting to erupt. He took one look at your face and zoned out, completely missing what you said and barely covering up when you asked him for his opinion. He had to bite his tongue every time he almost blurted out that sentence that was marinating in his brain.

I love you.

“You're down bad,” Hyunjin told him after Minho confessed to having feelings for you after he was confronted about his visits to the hospital for the past two months. “Like bad bad. I never thought I'd see you like this.”

“I like her,” Minho admitted again. “A lot. Now that I've known her, I don't think I can go back to pretending she doesn't exist.”

“Then tell her.”

He paused. “Confess… to Y/n?”

Hyunjin let out an exasperated sigh, shifting his position on the couch. “Yes, Minho, proclaim your love to the woman you love.”

“Is that a good idea?”

“If you like her so much despite her problems, then it's worth a shot, don't you think? And I have a feeling she feels the same way.”

“You think so?”

“There is only one way to find out.”

There is only one way to find out.

Hyunjin was right. Minho should confess. No harm in doing that, right? He picked out his best shirt, tucking it into his pants, and looked at his reflection in the mirror, messing with his hair for a while before he gave up and let it be. He smoothed down the wrinkles in the crisp white shirt, wondering if he was too dressed up for this. He sprayed on some cologne that you had complimented the day he wore it and gave himself a pep talk as he drove to a flower shop.

With bright red gerbera daisies in hand, he took a few deep breaths in front of the hospital entrance. The cherry blossom trees were in full bloom, ready to fall at any moment. You would love to see them, he thought, smiling to see himself. If things went the way he wanted them to, he would bring you out here and sit at a bench. Maybe get some ice cream from the cafeteria and watch the sakura trees.

Minho steeled himself and walked inside, making his way to the front desk. It was a daily routine, but today was different. His hair on the back of his neck was on end, and his heart was beating uncomfortably loudly in his chest.

“I'm here to see Y/N,” he told the receptionist. He was expecting her to tell him to go down the hallway, take the elevator up to your floor, and go to your room, as he did every day. He didn't expect the nurse to look up at him with a solemn face, a jolt of panic going through him even before she said anything.

“I'm sorry, Mr. Lee. She passed away earlier today. Her illness suddenly became worse, and her body couldn't fight it.”

His heart dropped, along with the bouquet of red flowers in his hands. “What? But—but I was here yesterday. She was fine. How—” His vision blurred with tears as the nurse once again shook her head in sorrow. His ears rang loudly, hands gripping onto the countertop hard enough to make his knuckles white, his throat closing up as he felt like the whole world was crumbling in front of him. His heart was ripped out of his chest and trampled upon as the nurse explained to him and told him about your final resting place. She handed him an envelope, sealed with a sticker of a strawberry and his name written on the front in your handwriting.

He sat in his car and cried for a long time, his forehead resting on the steering wheel as sob after sob racked through his body. His throat ached and his eyes burned, but he couldn't stop crying. The world became dull again; the happiness and light that you once brought are gone. Even after he shed his last tear, his heart squeezed dry and now hollow, he still couldn't will himself to drive away; he couldn't make himself look at the envelope sitting next to him in the passenger seat.

Minho blasted the air conditioner and closed his eyes to take a few deep breaths, but he was plagued by visions of you, and the pain in his heart increased tenfold. He didn't know how long he was sitting there in his car, but he did know that he could never tell you how much he loved you, how you made his life worth living, and how he would cherish you with his whole heart for eternity.

I love you.

Dear Minho,

If you're reading this then… I must not be there anymore. Firstly, I want to thank you for making the last few months of my life so memorable. I loved every moment I spent with you, and I wish I could've had many more—perhaps a lifetime more. Thank you for making me smile when my heart felt heavy, for making me laugh when I felt like crying, and for showing me so much more love than I deserve. 

Second, I want to tell you I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not telling you the full story of me, the reasons why I'm paralyzed below my waist, and why I was so sick I could barely move sometimes. Because when you were there, I wanted to be happy. I didn't want to think about my illness or the fact that I would die and leave you alone. It was too much to bear, although I thought about it every night.

All those dreams I told you about? The biggest one I had was to be with you. This is the third thing I wanted to tell you, but I never had the chance because I was too much of a coward, which is that I like you. No, I love you. I've loved you since we were in school. I recognized you in the hospital that day, and you didn't, but I was so happy to see you again, although I wish you didn't have to see me in that state, lying on my deathbed.

I love you so much, Lee Minho. I wish we had more time together, but I cherished every moment we had. I love you, and I always will. And I hope you do too.

Forever,

Y/n.

The words in your letter were permanently etched into his brain, a painful reminder of your absence and of how oblivious he was to your reciprocated feelings. He couldn't move for a few days, lying in bed, alternating between crying and simply staring at the ceiling, memories of you playing in his head again and again like a broken record he never wanted to fix.

Minho didn't visit you until Sunday, not wanting to believe the harsh reality of you not being with him anymore. He did his best to hide any remnant of his red eyes and puffy face, dressed in the shirt you liked, and bought red gerbera daisies once again to see you. He had to look good for you.

It took him a while to find you, but there you were.

In loving memory of a loving daughter and dear friend, Y/N L/N

(25.03.1999 - 10.04.2024)

“Hey,” his voice cracked. He stubbornly tried to blink at the tears forming in his eyes. Minho bit his lip, kneeling down to place the flowers in front of the tombstone and brushing some dirt off of the granite. “I miss you.” A wobbly smile formed on his face. He could almost see your face in front of him, a teasing glint in your eyes as you poked fun at him. He sniffled, turning away to wipe his eyes. “And you never gave me the chance to tell you that... that I love you too. I was nervous, and now I'm too late. I'm sorry, Y/n.” He choked on his words and stood up. “I would do anything to get you back.”

There was a cool breeze, ruffling his hair. He thought it was you and closed his eyes, imagining it was your hands carding through his air. He felt something fall on him—cherry blossoms. The wind carried them in a delicate dance, surrounding him and you in a flurry of pink petals.

“The sakuras are blooming,” he said sadly.

But you weren't here to see it.

The drive home was silent. Minho didn't put the radio on, half focused on the idle roads and darkening horizon. The cherry blossom trees all over the city were blooming, he noticed, as his car stood idle at a red light. He believed a part of him died along with you. You were his soulmate; that's what he liked to believe. You were connected in more ways than one, with destiny pulling on your strings to get you close and then snipping the thread at the last second.

The light turned red. He changed the gear and moved forward.

It all happened too fast: the rev of another car coming in from his side at a speed double that of the limit, him noticing too late as the front crashed to his left, his head flying into the window and breaking the glass into shards that wedged into his skin.

And then everything went black. 

Minho's head shot up. Was he dead? Did he die in that car crash? His head was killing him; a throb was coming from deep inside his brain, making him wince and hold his head. But there was no blood on his hands when he pulled away. How was that possible?

“Are you okay?” He looked up. Hyunjin was approaching him along with a few other people he recognized as Bang Chan, Han Jisung, and... Kim Seungmin? He hadn't spoken to the last one since high school. “I think it hit you really hard.”

“What do you mean, I was in a—” He halted in his tracks. “What are you wearing?” Minho's eyes were trained on the gray blazer he was wearing, a gold pin affixed to the lapel. Underneath was a navy blue waistcoat and a white shirt collar peeking above.

Hyunjin blinked. “What do you mean?”

“No,” he said, letting out something that was a mix of a laugh and a scoff. “Why are you wearing that? Are you pulling my leg?”

“My… uniform?”

“Yah, Minho, did you hit your head that hard?” Jisung laughed, slinging an arm over his shoulder, making him bend. 

“Of course I did, I—”

His mind clicked. They were standing on a field. Not just any old field—their school play field, where they used to play soccer every day after class. There was laughter and yelling all around him. Hyunjin, Jisung, Chan, and Seungmin—even Minho himself—were wearing the same clothes. Gray blazer, white shirt, gray slacks, and the gold pin. Some were wearing the navy blue waistcoat and a tie, but it was the same thing from seven years ago.

“This isn't funny; why are we here?” This had to be some joke, courtesy of Jisung. He was a prankster, but this was taking it too far.

“Minho, are you sure you're okay? Do you need to go to the nurse?” Chan had worry written all over his face. 

Minho glanced at each of them, getting more and more confused by the second. His eyes flitted down to his clothes and back up, at the other students, the school building, and back to his friends.

“Maybe he has a concussion,” Seungmin quipped. “I told those rugby guys to take it down a notch.”

Those words sounded familiar. A sense of deja vu washed over him, his hair pricking on end, and a light bulb went off in his head.

This has happened before.

“Hey, Lee Minho... You're scaring me.” Hyunjin's hand held his left bicep and shook him.

“This happened before... Why am I here? I graduated school seven years ago...” He muttered underneath his breath.

“What are you saying? I think we need to take you to the nurse.”

Minho cut Chan off. “Today, what is today's date?”

“April 10th, why?”

“The year, Seungmin.”

“2017—”

The air was knocked out of his lungs. He was in the past. Seven years in the past. He was still in his last year of high school, liked playing soccer, never wore the uniform correctly, and was still friends with Kim Seungmin.

“Y/n…” 

You would be alive. If he was right and he was somehow transported back in time to when he was in school, you would be alive. You would be okay, not lying in a hospital bed, unable to move, waiting for your illness to consume you. 

He had another chance.

“Y/n? You mean from our class? Why d—”

Minho leaped at Hyunjin, his eyes blazing with determination. He held his shoulders as he spoke again. “Where is she?”

“I think she was leaving?”

That was all Minho needed to know. He quickly grabbed his bag and bolted down the field onto the pavement that led to the main gate. He could hear his friends calling for him; they were undoubtedly confused by his behavior, but that didn't matter. All he had to do was make sure you were alive. He spotted a girl walking, a backpack slung over her back.

There was only one way he could find out.

“Y/n?” He called, hoping he wasn't making a fool of himself in front of someone else.

The girl turned, and his heart stopped.

It was you, a younger version of you, the one from the yearbook, looking at him with a confused tilt of your head. He could see your lips move, probably saying his name, but he couldn't hear it. There was a gust of wind, the breeze urging him to surge forward, and he did, colliding into your body and embracing you tightly. His breaths were uneven, tears forming in his eyes as he rested his chin on top of your head, his fingers brushing through your hair.

“You're okay…” He squeezed you tighter.

You were the first one to pull away; your cheeks were tinted pink. You couldn't meet his eyes. “Why did you do that? Is something wrong, Minho? Of course I'm okay.”

Minho felt something fall on his shoulder. A sakura. The cherry blossom trees were blooming, showering the two of you with a cascade of pink petals. His eyes searched yours, but he could only see bewilderment. A relieved laugh escaped him. He squatted on the ground and covered his face with his hands.

He got another chance.

Another chance with you.

He looked back up at you and felt a multitude of emotions bubble up in him, but the main one was love.

“Yeah, you're okay.”

“You're acting weird.”

“Can I walk you home?”

“Sure, but—”

“Great.”

Minho was all smiles; he couldn't stop it. His heart was beating out of his chest as he walked alongside you, gripping onto the strap of his bag, his ears turning pink every time your shoulders brushed his. He was beyond happy, relieved, and excited, all at the same time. He tried to fill the silence of the walk by asking you questions like how your day had gone, what you ate for lunch, and if he could walk home with you every day.

You were completely flustered and confused; he could see that. It must be weird for you for him to come talk out of nowhere. He remembered that you had liked him since high school, so that means this would work out. He just had to act normal and make sure he would change your fate and his, to make sure that you would be with him forever.

“This is me,” you awkwardly gestured to the house the two of you had stopped in front of.

Minho nodded, feeling a little upset that you had to go away too soon. “Right… Well, I'll see you tomorrow.”

You bit your lip. “Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow, Minho. Get home safe.”

“I will,” he grinned and waved goodbye before he set for his house, turning around one last time to see you on the porch if your house was doing a happy dance, which made him laugh, his face flushing red.

You were okay.

And so was he.

It took him a while to find his own house in the unfamiliar neighborhood he was in. He missed living in his parent's place, with his mother's home-cooked food that he hadn't eaten in ages. When was the last time he visited his mom and dad? He eagerly went up to the door and opened it, the familiar sight of the entryway making him nostalgic. 

“Someone's all smiles today,” his mom said with a chuckle, watching him untie his shoes and put on his house slippers. His mother looked younger than he had last seen her, wearing a cardigan. He remembered that she said that it had shrunk in the washing machine. It was brand new now. “Did you have a good day today, sweetheart?”

“The best. I'll be in my room,” he said, almost tripping over his two feet in giddiness as he went up the stairs to his bedroom. It looked exactly the same as he used to have it. He threw his bag onto the floor and then himself onto his bed, breathing in the smell of the detergent on the bedsheets.

“This is crazy,” he said to himself. If all of this was a dream, he never wanted to wake up. Maybe he was in a coma from the car crash, but it all felt too real. He remembered this day happening before: getting hit in the head by a rugby ball, and Seungmin chiding the guys who were playing with it. This was obviously not a prank; everyone looked younger and was befuddled, looking at him like he was nuts. 

He time-traveled. Actually, time traveled back to the past to save you.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He even had his old phone.

Hyunjin: Minho, you're okay, right? You were acting really weird.

Minho: Yeah, I'm fine. I think I got hurt more than I thought I did.

Hyunjin: Okay 🤨

Hyunjin: Why did you run off like that, though? You don't even talk to Y/N, and suddenly you were acting as if she were on the verge of death?

Minho : I just needed to check something.

Hyunjin: You're weird. Get some sleep and don't be late tomorrow again, or Seung's going to kill you.

Minho: I won't 🙄

He was back in 2017. He was a teenager again. 

“This is so cool.”

It was something straight out of a movie. Minho felt like he was living in a fever dream, being able to relive his adolescence. Since he knew how much he could lose, he made sure to make this second chance worth it. Instead of skipping meals and eating from the vending machine, he scarfed down whatever delicious meal his mother made, making both of his parents laugh at his sudden switch in behavior. 

“Eat slowly, or you'll choke,” his dad said with a chuckle when Minho piled on more food and eagerly shoved it down his throat.

He took the opportunity to join a dance class like he did when he was a kid, knowing that he regretted not doing it years later.

Instead of wasting time in class and being moody, he studied—trying to study. 

Then again, he had you to help. Y/N, the wise one, teased when the two of you sat together in the library during lunch on the premise of studying, but you mostly ended up laughing so hard that the librarian kicked the two of you out. 

He spent more time with his friends, doing everything he was bitter about later in life.

Months passed by like this. Minho woke up in his bed every day, was greeted by his 2PM posters on his wall, ate breakfast with his parents, and went to school. He daydreamed about you in class, much to the suspicions of his friends, and walked home with you. He had to make sure nothing happened to you that would derail his plan for the perfect future.

“Do you like Y/N?” Hyunjin asked during lunch one day, pulling a chair out in front of him with a loud scraping noise. It was autumn, and the air was much colder in the mornings than it was a few weeks ago. The cherry blossom trees were barren, awaiting spring to bloom once more. 

“Good afternoon to you too, Hyune.” Minho greeted him and continued to eat his lunch.

“Don't deflect my question. Do you like her or not?”

“And if I do?”

Hyunjin's eyes went so big that Minho thought they'd fall right out of their sockets. “Seriously?”

“Why is it that interesting to you?”

“Oh, this is a golden opportunity.” Hyunjin leaned forward with his elbows on the desk.

“Why are you so interested in my love life?”

“Please, the last time you admitted to having a crush, it was on the idol singer Lee Hyori. I have a right to be curious.” Minho rolled his eyes, but he was a bit flustered. He still hadn't thought of how he would take the relationship with you to the next level. The last time he planned to confess, well, that didn't end well. “What do you like about her? She's pretty; I get that. And she's really good at art, and she's smart.”

“Have you made your point?” He raised a brow.

Hyunjin let out a frustrated sigh. “You're so mean, Lee Minho.” He hit his shoulder lightly. “I'm just saying this, okay? But I accidentally eavesdropped on a conversation her friends were having—an accident, okay? And I think I heard Y/n's name moving in the same sentence.”

Minho choked, his face turning red as he coughed, picked up his water bottle to drink some water, and took big gulps of air afterwards. “What?”

Hyunjin's words haunted him the whole day and then the next day because you weren't coming to school, nor were you answering his texts. He was trying hard to not look desperate, but he was grasping at straws. 

The weekend rolled around, and he was getting worried. What if Hyunjin was right and you had moved away? But you wouldn't do that without telling him, right? The two of you were friends. 

Friends.

His mother had the worst timing when she sent him to pick up some things from the store—a loud crack of thunder and the pitter-patter of raindrops began the second he stepped into the convenience store. He grabbed the things he needed as well as an umbrella, purchasing all of them at the register before standing outside underneath the umbrella.

That was when he caught the familiar sight of your form, crouching on the side of the road next to a small ball of fluff. The umbrella you were using barely covered you, as you were instead shielding a pair of kittens and cooing at them.

Minho's heart leaped into his chest, his legs moving on their own towards you and standing right next to you, covering you with his own umbrella. You looked up and then at him, a smile breaking out on your face, but this time he didn't return it.

“What happened to you? You disappeared for two days, and Hyunjin said you were moving and you weren't responding to me and—”

“Whoa, Min, breathe,” you chuckled and stood up. “What moving? I'm not moving. My friend is.”

He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. “Oh.”

You laughed. “Were you worried about me?”

“Of course I was,” he blurted out, his cheeks flushing. He cleared his throat and looked away from you, his heart dancing in his ribcage. He'd planned to do this once before, but standing in front of you, all the courage drained right out of him, and he was left as a puddle of nerves. “So why didn't you come to school then?”

“I was sick.”

“You were sick. And you were out here standing in the rain for two cats?” He shook his head. “Hold this.” He pushed the umbrella he was holding into your hands and quickly shed his jacket, putting it over your shoulder and pulling the hood over your head, using it to try and dry your hair. “You're going to get sick again.” His hands stopped at the sides of your face, his lips parting as he looked into your eyes.

“Thank you…” Your face was also turning red at the proximity between the two of you that he just noticed. 

Minho swallowed the lump in his throat. Now or never. “I need to tell you something.”

“What?”

“I couldn't tell you this before because I was too scared, but now I know how much I have to lose.”

“What are you saying, Min?”

“Just let me finish, okay?” He took a deep breath, pushing a stand of wet hair out of your face. “I… I like you, Y/N. For a really long time, longer than you think.”

He waited with bated breath for your answer. “I like you too, Minho. I've liked you for a while now.”

He couldn't wait anymore. It was obviously too forward of him, but he'd been dreaming of this for way too long, and he wasn't going to let it slip through his fingers again. He pulled your face towards his and crashed his lips onto yours. You let out a muffled sound of surprise, but you reciprocated it, the umbrella falling out of your hands and onto the ground with a thud. Your arms rested on his shoulders while his drifted down to your waist, holding you in an embrace as he tenderly kissed you. Fireworks went off inside him. He could feel the thundering of your heart right above his. The two of you were soaked from the relentless rain, but he could care less.

He broke the kiss, his forehead leaning on yours as he took a few breaths. “Sorry, I just really wanted to do that.” It was a half-baked apology since he wasn't very sorry at all. His eyes were closed, taking in the intimacy of the moment.

“I liked it; don't worry. Just warn me next time, okay?”

Minho couldn’t help but tease you. "Oh, so you want a next time?” He laughed loudly when you hit his arm. “Of course there will be a next time; I plan on giving you many, many kisses.” He planted another one on your forehead to prove his point. He closed his eyes again and hugged you tightly.

Minho's head felt like it was splitting in two. Where was he? He blinked his eyes open, the white light above him causing him to groan. His clothes didn't feel wet anymore, and he was lying down with a white blanket over him. He lifted his hand up, only to see it was bandaged.

“Why—”

Memories of the car crash flooded his mind, and a flash of panic went through him. “No, no, no, no, no.” Was that really just a dream? Were you really gone? He felt tears pricking the corners of his eyes, his chest heaving up and down until—

“Thank God you're awake,” a voice said. He felt a hand brush the hair off of his forehead. The voice sounded too much like yours. But it couldn't be. All of that was in his imagination. 

Then you came into focus, your face filled with worry and your eyes pink, like you'd been crying for a while.

“Y-Y/n?” He lifted his bandaged hand up to your cheek. He needed to know you were real. He let out a sob of relief when he felt the warmth of your skin beneath his palm and then your own hand covering his. “You're here…”

“Of course I'm here, silly. Where else would I be?”

He pulled you onto him, tucking your head into his chest, and kissed the top of your head as a few tears rolled down his cheek. “Thank goodness.” He held you like that for a while, taking in the comforting scent of your perfume mixed in with the smile of your shampoo. “What happened?”

“Your car crashed on your way home from work... you don't remember?”

“That happened?”

“Yeah, the doctor said you had a concussion. You weren't waking up... I was so scared.”

His heart broke at your words. “I'm never leaving you, ever. You can't get rid of me that easily.” You let out a broken laugh and clung onto him. He let out a deep breath and closed his eyes.

Minho was discharged a day later. The doctor said he might experience temporary amnesia due to his head trauma and that he'd regain his memories soon. He still couldn't believe everything that had happened. He'd managed to save you. You were here with him.

The two of you took a stroll in the park, hand in hand, underneath the cherry blossoms trees. “Hey, Y/n?” He said softly, making you turn to him with a soft hum. “I love you.”

You smiled. “I love you too, Minho.”

That was all he needed to hear. A breeze shook the branches of the trees and the sakuras fell once again. He squeezed your hand and continued to walk alongside you as the pink petals and flowers showered on him, and this time, you were by his side. Where you were meant to be.

©hanjsquokka | copying, translating or republishing my work is strictly prohibited

[revasserium]

know, know better

suo hayato; 3,591 words; fluff, fem!reader, no "y/n", banter, so much flirting, mentions of bodily harm (its wind breaker lol), first!kisses, semi-whipped!suo, suo will break the world for the one he loves likes, suo is a jackass gentleman exhibit 329048293

summary: the only difference between a garden and a graveyard is what you decide to put in the ground

a/n: yes, i know i've used that metaphor before in another fic for another fandom. no, i do not care. yes, i will continue to reuse this metaphor bc i love it.

001.

He sees you for the first time on the roof, and for a second, he wonders if he’s hallucinating because — well, no one else wears dresses at Fuurin other than Tsubaki-chan and he’s certain he just saw them downstairs, arm slung through Umemiya’s, squealing about a new line of glittery eyeshadows that just launched over the weekend.

“Ah — excuse me!”

“I know, I know — but I couldn’t just let the poor cherry tomatoes suffer like this! Go tell Ume-nii that he’s been neglecting — oh!”

By the time you look up, Suo is already bending over your shoulder to peer politely down into the garden trough, his single eye wide and bright and curious.

“Uwah… you seem really good at this!”

You lick your lips, tasting salt, feeling an unfamiliar heat creep up the back of your neck.

“Uhm… yeah — well —” your clear your throat and turn back towards the cherry tomato plants, reaching out with a gloved hand to flick one of the budding green tomatoes, “these lil guys need a lot of sunlight and Ume-nii let them in a patch of shade, so I couldn’t just leave them there, yknow?”

You smile as you get to your feet, Suo backing up politely, his hands tucked behind his back, his eye following the graceful lilt of your movements, the lithe, slenderness of your arms and legs. He can’t help the way his gaze catches on the hem of your skirt, the way it brushes the creamy skin of your leg just above your knees.

He forces himself to look away.

“You… must be one of the new first-years, right? I heard Kotoha-chan talking about you guys!”

Your voice is clear as a bell-chime, and almost as sweet, but its your eyes he can’t stop himself from coming back to. Irises purled with gold, limned by dark lashes that cast shadows against the round of your cheeks. He feels something inside him stutter as he tries to focus back on the way you’re reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, how the other errant strands frame your face so perfectly that he has to fight down the urge to reach out and tug the slip of hair back down.

“… your name?”

“Hm?” Suo smiles before he realizes you’re waiting for him to say something, “Ah — apologies — how rude of me. Suo Hayato, it’s a pleasure.”

He dips his head in greeting as you extend a hand.

“Pleasure, huh?” you giggle as he takes your hand in his and shakes. Your skin is warm and soft, and Suo finds — for the first time in a long while — that he doesn’t really want to let go.

002.

He sees you the second time at Cafe Pothos, laughing behind the counter with Kotoha. He pauses in the doorway and lets the sound wash over him, even as you both look over at the sound of the doorbell.

“Oh! It’s you!” your smile sets his world spinning off on it’s axis and it’s all he can do to keep it from showing. Beside him, Sakura frowns.

“You know each other?”

Suo grins, stepping over the threshold to slip into one of the bar chairs.

“Yep! We met on the school roof the other day!”

“School roof — wait, I thought there weren’t any girls in Fuurin — unless —” Sakura cuts off as he whips back towards you, his eyes wide as he looks you over once, twice — before Kotoha rolls her eyes and snaps her fingers in front of his face.

“Oi! Quit ogling my friend — and no, there aren’t any girls in Fuurin, but we do have a delivery service for the VIP clients.” Kotoha winks as Sakura’s cheeks go pink. Suo props his chin on the heel of his hand and offers you a bright smile; your mirrored smile back makes his chest squeeze.

“So… how’re the cherry tomatoes doing?” you ask, reaching out to set a traditional tea service in front of Suo, your fingers light as they pluck a tiny porcelain cup from a shelf to place it on a small, bamboo tray.

“They’re getting really ripe! I’ve been checking on them like you asked…” Suo’s voice trails off as you go about the work of putting loose leaf tea in a tea bowl and warming it before pouring out the first wash of liquid.

“How… did you know I’d like this kind of tea?”

You grin, shrugging, “I just… had a feeling.”

“It’s her superpower,” Kotoha leans over with a sly smile, “she can usually guess a person’s favorite kind of food and drink within… about five minutes of getting to know them!”

“Oh stop it — it’s nothing like that! I just… had a hunch is all.” You glance up to catch Suo staring, his gaze so intense you almost fumble the teapot in your hands. It clinks against the empty cup, but before the cup has a chance to tumble off the table, Suo reaches out with a deft hand to catch it, placing it smoothly back onto the tea tray.

There’s a faint stutter in the fluidity of your movements as you blink at the cup now sitting innocently, perfectly centered, on the tray. And then you’re reaching out to fill the cup with a steaming, golden liquid, fragrant enough to fill half the room. Even Sakura leans over with a curious sniff.

“Whoa. Smells good,” he says, “smells like…”

Suo smiles, reaching down to trace a finger along the razor-thin rim of the tiny glass, “Smells like flowers.”

003.

You are young in all the ways that teenage girls can be young, and old in the all the ways that people have to be in Makochi. Your ribs hurt, your lip’s split, and there’s an ache settling over your right eye that tells you there’s probably an incredible bruise blooming into existence there.

“Ouch… damnit… I’ve really… done it this time…” you groan as you try to push yourself up off the dark alley wall. You wiggle each of your fingers in turn and say a silent prayer when you find that they all respond. Good, you think, so nothing’s broken. **

Not yet, at least.

Footsteps to your right. Light, but hurried. You squeeze your eyes shut and brace for the worst but instead — there’s only warmth, and a soft palm cupping the curve of your face.

“Hey… it’s okay — you’re alright.”

“S-Suo…kun?”

“That’s right — it’s me —” a soft, exasperated sigh, “we were looking for you afternoon —” arms wrapping around you, lifting you up. You hear the soft rustle of bags and groan as you try to reach out but a firm hand stops you.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got it.”

He doesn’t sound angry. If anything, he sounds just as measured as he usually is. But pressed up against his chest like this, you can feel the wild, racehorse hoofbeats of his heart, feel the shakiness in his every breath. His fingers are tight as he cradles you to him, carrying you from the alleyway.

“I wanted… yokan…” your voice is hoarse, and a bit ragged. Suo casts his eyes up toward the sunset sky and counts down from ten.

When he’s certain his voice won’t shake, he says —

“Eh? But the Minami tea store always sells really good yokan — why’d you… ah… you wanted to get the famous mizu yokan from across the tracks, didn’t you?” Suo sighs, gently adjusting his hold around your body, pressing you ever closer to his chest. Your breathing is shallow but even; like this, he can almost hear the faint fluttering of your heart deep inside your chest, see the soft quiver of your lashes as you shift in his arms.

“Silly girl,” he whispers, leaning down to press his lips into the seam of your hair, “next time, just tell me and I’ll go with you.”

He can sense your consciousness fading, and though the logical part of him knows that you’re in no immediate danger, he still hastens his steps, his stomach twisting inside him like a wrung-out towel, dry and aching.

“But…” he leans in; your voice is barely a whisper. He almost jumps as you reach up to trace a finger along his eyepatch, “Then it wouldn’t have been… a surprise.”

004.

“Happy Birthday!”

“Wow! Thank you!” Suo blinks for a second before his expression breaks into a bright smile. He’d had an inkling, after the “yokan-incident”, that this might’ve been the reason. But still, it twists something deep inside his gut to know that you’d gotten so hurt because of — well — something to do with him.

Even unsolicited. Even then. He detests the thought of it.

Nearly the entire first year class is there, and a good few students from the second and third years, crammed into Cafe Pothos. There’s a full traditional tea service set out on the tables, pieced together into the center of the room, and an array of tea snacks enough to make even the most ascetic eaters take pause.

“Suo-kun! C’mon, you shouldn’t keep everyone waiting, right?” Kotoha waves him towards the center table, where a multicolored display of mochis are placed in a barely legible “Happy Birthday”, each with a matching colored candle shoved into the middle.

“Sakura-kun did the mochis!” Nirei offers, pointing, seconds before Sakura smacks him upside the head.

“You don’t have’ta single it out!”

Suo takes his time, moving from person to person, chatting and laughing and thanking them in turn. There’s a softness pulsing inside him, something warm and growing, purring, curling up with a creamy, spine-deep contentment. Until he gets to you, busy wowing a group of first-year boys with your kung-fu tea skills, pouring the steaming water from higher and higher, never spilling a single drop.

“— the water can’t be too hot, or else the tea will get burnt — and that’s why sometimes —”

“Sometimes, when you make tea at home, it tastes awful and bitter, right?” Suo sits down, smiling even as he purposefully encroaches on the personal space of the freshman closest to you. To his credit, the freshman boy laughs, inching back as Suo props his chin on his palm and turns to look at them.

“A-ah… that’s really uh — cool! Wow — those shortcakes over there look really good — guys, let’s go grab some before they’re all gone!”

They scurry off, dipping their heads in your direction before ducking away.

“Mm… you’re lucky its your birthday,” you say, placing a warmed cup of tea in front of him, reaching over to slide over a glistening piece of mizu-yokan.

“Hm?” Suo takes a sip of the tea, savoring it’s depth of flavor, before taking a bite of the tea-snack.

“Otherwise, I wouldn’t be so nice to someone who’s driving off all my best customers,” you say, flashing him a knowing, indulgent smile. Suo doesn’t miss a beat.

“Your best customers?” he makes a show of pivoting towards where the clueless freshmen boys had run off to, now crowded around Sakura, laughing all too loudly, “if I didn’t know better… I’d say you need to raise your standards.”

You cock your head, hands pausing over a fresh pour of tea.

“But you do, don’t you?” you ask, resuming your movements. A second later, you place a fresh cup of tea in front of him.

“Don’t I… what?” he asks, playing at innocence.

“You should,” you parry, propping open the lid of the tiny teapot with two fingers, bending down to take a deep breath of the fragrant leaves.

The lid snaps back onto the pot with a solid click.

Suo blows at the surface of his teacup, pausing at the sound. He looks up to meet your knife-sharp gaze.

“Know — better.”

A shiver kisses up the length of his spine, and he nearly drops the fresh cup of tea. He clears his throat and takes a long sip. The heat drips down his throat, unfurling in his stomach, setting his whole body ablaze with the kind of fire that refuses to go out.

“Mm… this tea is delicious! Where’s it from?”

You shake your head, the motion just on the other side of innocent. But as you said — he knows better now.

“Somewhere… over the rainbow, I suppose.”

In a flicker, faster than a flash, he reaches out, fingers skimming along a thin line marring the perfect skin of your left cheek.

“This wasn’t there two days ago,” he says, almost casually, before his voice drops in register and his eyes go dark beneath his curtain of too-long lashes, “where’s it from?”

You make you shake off his hand but he’s too quick, catching your chin between two fingers.

“Don’t know. Must’ve been an accident.”

Suo tugs you towards him, his grip now bordering on too tight, “Ah… pretty girls like you shouldn’t make a habit of lying so much.”

You lick your lips, breath caught in your chest as you tug your face from his grasp, flicking a strand of hair over your shoulder.

“And pretty boys like you should really know better than to ask questions they don’t want to know the answers to.”

“And if I don’t?” Suo’s voice is sweet and soft and low. He sets down his empty teacup; you reach out to refill it.

“Don’t what?” you ask, feigning ignorance.

He catches your wrist, pulling up your sleeve before you can protest to reveal a series of dark bruises scattered up the length of your arm. The air around him seems to condense and cool as he stares for a second before his expression fixes itself back into one of detached sweetness.

“Know — better,” he answers, simply, letting his hand fall as you snatch your arm back, massaging the place where his fingers had been.

You narrow your eyes, but before you can say anything else, a group of boys all stumble over, singing loudly as they pull Suo back towards the center of the room, where yet another cake has materialized out of god knows where. He laughs, clapping along, blowing out the candles on instruction.

But for the rest of the night, you can’t help feeling the weight of his eyes on you, though you never again catch him staring.

005.

“They’re doing well, aren’t they?”

You jump, jerking upright even as Suo approaches you on the rooftop garden, hands laced behind his back, his earrings fluttering in the light breeze.

“Y-yeah. They really are.” You turn back to your cherry tomato plants, a few of them ripe to bursting. You reach out to pluck one off a vine, turning to offer it to the boy crouching down next to you.

He takes it from you, examining it for a second before popping into his mouth.

“Mm… sweet!”

You laugh, reaching out to tug another one off the vine. You bite into the soft flesh, feeling the explosion of flavor on your tongue.

“So much better than the ones from the supermarket, right?”

Suo sighs, nodding, but his expression sobers a second later.

“You shouldn’t have done that — just for my birthday.”

You pause, hands halfway towards another tomato. Suo reaches out to pluck it for you. As he presses it into your hand, you sigh, shaking your head.

“I didn’t do it just for you.”

“Oh?”

You roll the bright red fruit between your thumb and forefingers, holding it up to the light.

“Do you know what the difference is between a garden and a graveyard?” you ask, dropping your hand back down, your eyes trained on the plump little tomato now sitting in the palm of your hand.

“Tell me,” Suo says, watching you intently.

You turn to glance at him, a sad little smile on your lips.

“What you choose to put in the ground,” you say, before reaching out to press the cherry tomato to his lips. Suo blinks at you for a second before slowly opening his mouth to let the tomato slip through. He bites down, doesn’t reach up to wipe at the thin streak of juice slicking down his chin. He watches as your eyes flicker down, feels the pad of your thumb swipe across his skin.

He’s tugging you forward before he can stop himself; you taste the bright burst of sweet and sour on your tongue seconds before he pulls back, eyes wide. You lick your lips, expression half-shocked, half-satisfied. He opens his mouth to apologize —

“S-sorry, I should’ve asked — mmphf!”

You reach up and pull him towards you by the collar of his school uniform. It’s all he can do to catch himself against the rough ground of the rooftop garden, bits of gravel biting into his palm.

The kiss is sweet, is savory, is tentative — and then, suddenly, it bursts into something more — like a bite of over-ripe fruit, with juice sluicing down it’s seams — he surges forward, catching you around the waist. He savors in the friction of your lips against his, the teeth-aching sweetness of your warm breath as you gasp open for him, and only him. And by the gods, he tries to be a good man — a respectful man, but the tiny noise you make as he curls his fingers into the bend of your waist threatens to render all his flighty codes and morals to ash.

It is a noble pursuit, he decides later on, this of all things — to kiss you until there is no other way for you to be kissed. To kiss you just like this, until your mouth is ruined for all other tastes but the one of his tongue. He’s never thought himself a greedy man, but like this — with your body pressed to his on this rooftop garden, he thinks he might’ve learned a few more things about the depths and widths of why greed is considered such a cardinal sin.

When he finally lets you go, he’s satisfied to see there’s a dazed, unfocused haze to your eyes as you blink up at him, fingers fisted into the front of his school uniform.

“You still haven’t told me —” he leans down to press his forehead to yours, reveling in the way you gasp, the hitch in your voice as you lick your lips and he fights back a thick groan.

“Told you what?”

“Why you’d go out of the city bounds to get all those things for my birthday.”

You sigh, pursing your kiss-swollen lips.

“Because… those stores, like the earth, they… they might just need one good seed — one nice interaction —” your lashes flutter and Suo has to physically bat down the urge to lean down and kiss you again. Perhaps, he thinks, this is how dragons are made of fairy tale princes — perhaps, all the dragons ever needed was just one more kiss from their fairy tale princess.

“So… you thought to take it upon yourself to be that one nice interaction? To turn all those graveyards… into gardens?”

You crinkle your nose, glancing up at him from beneath your lashes as he pulls back to stare down at you.

“It’s a stupid thing to do, I know.”

Suo nods, “It is. But… only because you thought you could do it by yourself.”

He shifts, tugging you up into his lap as he readjusts himself to lean back against one of the taller planter boxes, his arms now comfortably looped around your middle.

“Well, if I’d told anyone… they would’ve tried to stop me.”

Suo tuts, reaching up to flick your nose with a gentle finger, “Oh ye of little faith,” he admonishes, grinning as you swat at his hand. He catches you by the wrist, pulling it in to press his lips to your palm, sighing as he nuzzles into your warmth.

“Do you really think we would’ve written off your feelings that easily? That I wouldn’t have at least tried to listen?”

You make to look away, embarrassed at your own oversight, but he tugs your chin back, forcing you to face him properly again.

“C’mon now… smart girl like you… should know better than that, shouldn’t you?”

You narrow your eyes, a feline glint alighting behind your eyes as you reach up to lace your fingers through his, leaning in with a challenge clear in your voice.

“And… if I don’t?”

Suo meets your gaze, a wide smile splitting his face as he tugs you closer, shifting your legs to settle on either side of his hips, his fingers now digging into the plush of your thighs, inching up to tease at the hemline of your skirt.

“Then I suppose… someone’ll just have to teach you better, won’t they?”

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡Ｇｏｏｄ Ｆｏｒｍ♡

♡ Pairing: boyfriend!yunho x chubby!fem!reader x best friend!mingi

♡ Genre: smut/a lil dash of fluff

♡ Summary: When you decide to have some late night fun with your boyfriend in the kitchen, the furthest thing from your mind is that your best friend might walk in and see you but when he does you're both more than happy to have him there.

♡ Word Count: 3k-ish

♡ Warnings: Yunho gives dom vibes. Mingi's a bit shy at first. Threesome (the boys don't touch each other though). They have a real thing for your chubby body. They're overall obsessed w/ you truly. Unprotected sex. Creampie. Oral sex (f & m receiving/heavy on the f receiving). Fingering. Multiple orgasms. Nipple play. Tit sucking. Hair pulling. Nibbling. Ass slapping. Overstimulation. Cum swallowing. Cum swapping. Squirting. A lil edging. Clit slapping. I use the word "pussy" cause I'm not a "cunt" gal. Lots of bodily fluids. Pet names (baby, angel)

♡ A/N: I've been writing a lot of really thoughtful, emotional pieces lately and this...is totally not one of them. It has it's moments but really it's 3k words of filth. I'm for sure gonna do a part 2 because I feel like I can do more with this but for now enjoy your hot girl moment, babes. You deserve it.

You'll never grow tired of this sound...

Yunho slurping down your juices, his soft lips pursed around your clit. Every decadent, unpredictable stroke of his tongue makes your thighs tremble. Three long, dexterous fingers pump in and out of your core drowning you in pleasure.

Yunho had sincerely wandered into the kitchen for a midnight snack when he stumbled upon you here. Bent over in the fridge with your deliciously plush ass peeking from the bottom of your red lace panties, you instantly became the only thing his taste buds craved.

You had your hand on an ice cold bottle of water when you felt two strong hands spreading your thighs apart. “Up a little late aren’t you?” he teased, stroking your slit through the barely there material. Your breath hitched, the cool air from the refrigerator the only thing to ease the heat consuming your body. “I couldn’t sleep and I—mmm—I just wanted—ah.”

Yunho tucked your panties to the side, sinking his middle finger into you. You were already so needy and wet, so easily turned on at the slightest bit of attention from him, that he could've never stopped there. “Just wanted what, baby?” he whispered, dropping to his knees, “Tell me what you want.” It tickled when you felt his lips brush against your skin, leading a trail of kisses around the curve of your ass and down your thighs.

“Yunie, I can’t—fuck, I can’t think” you moaned, holding onto one of the shelves to keep your legs from giving out. “Aww, baby” he smiled, slapping your ass hard enough to make it jiggle, “You don’t have to.”

Yunho knows where your sweet spot is. How to rotate his wrist and curl his finger at the perfect angle to make your body surrender to him. He had you wrapped around his finger—clenching—literally. You were dripping by the time he slipped your panties down to drink from you like the sweetest fountain. He made sure you came twice before he lifted you onto the counter and spread your aching legs open to taste you more.

Backed into a corner, one foot up on each side of the counter, you’re completely at his mercy and this is exactly where you want to be. Nibbling at your bottom lip, you stare down at him with those beautifully glossy eyes of yours.

Yunho tilts his head up to meet your gaze, fluffy dark brown hair framing his face, and it’s obvious he’s as blissed out as you are. He suckles at your clit as he pulls back just enough for you to see your sensitive bud twitching in response to him. Without warning he buries his face between your legs, humming with pleasure as he completely devours you.

You throw your head back, stars illuminating your vision. “Yunie, please don’t stop” you beg, fingers tangling in his hair as he wrecks you in the best way. Just when the pressure inside of you reaches its peak, your pussy ready to turn into a waterfall, you notice a figure standing in the doorway.

Mingi? Fuck. You’ve been so swept up in the moment, blinded by lust, that you completely forgot Mingi was staying over tonight.

It’s coming up on 4 years since you met Yunho and Mingi in a cramped club your friend’s band was playing at. The crowd that night was completely out of control. A swirling pit of drunks in desperate need of therapy. Just trying to get to the bathroom was a death wish. Yunho and Mingi didn’t have to step in to protect you but they did and they have ever since.

It never occurred to you to ask why they helped you. You saw it in the way they watched you at the restaurant after, like you were some shiny new toy they had acquired. Only Mingi treated you like a collector’s item, too delicate to take off of the shelf. He thought it better to admire you, imagine what it’d be like to play with you, but could never get the courage to do it.

Yunho, on the other hand, wasted no time taking you out of the box. Everything about you was too alluring for him to deny. His hunger for you then was as intense as it is now and he needed to indulge or he’d regret it for the rest of his life. Mingi hides it well, at least he thinks he does, but he regrets it. He wishes you knew how badly he wants you to be his in every sense of the word. Could you even fathom the things he’d do to trade places with his best friend right now?

Mingi knows that he should turn around—go back to the guest room, pretend nothing ever happened—but he’s too hypnotized by you to do it. “Hi, Mmm-Mingi” you giggle, noticing the thick bulge in his sweatpants. Mingi follows your gaze down to a cock hard enough to split you in two. You smile at him like you’d love to see him try it. You would. “Yunie,” you coo, tapping him on the back of the neck, “We have company.”

Yunho doesn’t register it at first, too intoxicated by your pussy to process anything that comes out of your mouth as coherent language. Mingi’s eyes widen and you can almost hear the gears turning in his head. He’s scared out of his mind and insanely horny, a combination of things he’s never felt before and has no clue what to do with. Yunho’s motions slow as he deprives you of his tongue. His fingers slide out of you, soaked in your arousal.

“Company?” he asks, rising to his feet, lips dripping wet.

You nod, pointing to Mingi, “I think we woke him up.”

Yunho lets out a low, playful chuckle, turning only halfway to greet his best friend. “Fuck,” Mingi mumbles, frantically scanning the kitchen for something else to look at. “I wasn’t looking! I swear! I came to grab my…” Spotting the spice rack beside him, he blindly grabs the first thing he sees. “Chili pepper flakes? Yeah, they’re so good for a late night snack, you know?”

Unconvinced but amused by his attempt, Yunho turns back to face you. He lures you into a kiss, sharing with you the delightfulness of your taste. He rests the back of his hand against your core, knuckles grazing your clit just enough to keep you on edge. “Can I share?” he asks between the feverish clashing of your tongues. “Mmmhmm” you gasp, your back arching at the return of his touch. Yunho shakes his head, hands riding your curves up to where your nipples poke through your shirt.

He takes your supple breast into his hand, massaging it as he rolls your nipple between his fingertips. “Baby, that won’t do. I need to hear you say it this time. Tell me what you want.” You tilt your head to the side, taking in the tall, handsome blonde watching you. “You can share me, Yunie” you whisper, breath tickling the side of his neck, “I want it.” He pinches your nipple, locking his other arm around your waist, “Aah, good girl. That wasn’t so hard was it? Now hold onto me.”

You do as you’re told and cling to him in time to be lifted from the smooth marble counter. Yunho kisses you once more as he spins you around. A dizzying transition that ends in you draped across the kitchen table. “Are you joining or are you just gonna watch?” Yunho asks Mingi, too distracted with the cute squishy belly poking from the bottom your shirt to actually face him.

Mingi can hear his heart thumping its way out of his chest. He has to be hearing things. “Oh, I—you can’t be—are you s…” he stutters, squeezing the life out of that poor bottle of chili pepper flakes. Yunho nibbles at your exposed belly before turning to confront the confusion on Mingi’s face, “Serious? Yes. I’m serious. I know you’ve always wanted her so…come get her.”

Mingi hesitates, still unsure if it’s a trick or not. The chance that Yunho will murder him if he actually tries seems higher than this not being a fever dream. Shifting to get more comfortable on the table, you hold your hand out to Mingi, your body calling to him like a siren beckons sailors to their doom. It’s enough to make him drop everything, to abandon all these years of pretending.

Mingi carefully makes his way over to you, taking your hand in his. You’re beautiful at any angle but there’s something about this one—you staring up at him from the filthiest position with the most innocent eyes—that really gets him.

It’s the perfect angle for you too, one your boyfriend knows you’ve fantasized about. These two broad shouldered angels looming over you, bathing you in their admiration. “Kiss me” you whisper, palming Mingi’s cock through his thick sweatpants. Mingi grunts at the euphoric release of tension as his lips latch onto yours, his kiss ravenous and sloppy. His platinum hair falls into your face, immersing you in the crisp floral scent of his shampoo.

Yunho watches as Mingi snatches your shirt up, taking his time to enjoy how your tits bounce when they pop free. Pushing your legs back, Yunho drags his fingers between your lips to pull back the hood of your clit. He flicks his thumb up and down, smiling as you arch and wiggle beneath him. Mingi sneaks a glimpse down at Yunho, breaking the kiss to hear your moans. For the first time he doesn’t have to listen through the walls, you’re making all those sinful noises right before his eyes and it’s glorious to behold.

“You’re so cute” Mingi says, cupping your fluffy cheeks. “You—ah—think so?” you ask, tucking a finger into the waist of his sweatpants. You slip your hand inside, taking as much of him into your hand as you can. Mingi pulls them down for you and you audibly gasp at the gorgeous cock that springs free. You glide up and down, circling the head with your thumb. Mingi cups one of your breasts, kneading the plush flesh as drags his tongue down to your nipple. “Mmhmm” he hums, stuffing his mouth full of you, “So fucking cute.” 

You lay there breathless—trying to talk your trembling body down from your next orgasm—when you feel the throbbing head of Yunho’s cock rub up and down your entrance. “You ready for me, baby?” he asks, raising your legs up to balance your ankles on his shoulders. When he does it presses him into you a little bit further and you cry out, raising your hips for more. “Mmm—ready for you Yunie.” Yunho snaps his hips, bottoming out in one thrust that sends electricity dancing through your body.

A soft tug brings Mingi in close enough that you can turn and lick the precum leaking from the tip of his cock. “Fuck, that feels so good” he moans, rising to push deeper into your throat. Your tongue curls on the underside of his cock, the textured roof of your mouth dragging along it as he fucks your throat.

This is what they’ve wanted since the night you met. What you’ve wanted too. It’s so satisfying, like scratching an itch you never could quite reach, to let them take you together. Their hands glide across your velvet smooth skin, exploring every inch of you. They’re so careful with you, matching paces to keep you comfortable. All you have to do is lay here and let them take care of you—let them worship you.

Yunho caresses your legs, fingers digging into your hips, “I feel you clenching, baby. You close?” You know he expects an answer even if you’re currently drooling around Mingi’s cock. You give him a muffled, “Yes.” But that’s not nearly enough for either of them. Mingi grabs you by the hair, pulling out to leave your mouth painfully empty. “Your voice is too pretty not to hear” he says, stroking your lips, “You ready to come for us, baby? Gonna let me see how good you look coming on your boyfriend’s cock?”

“Yes, Mingi. I’m gonna c—oh my—ah…” you whimper only for Mingi to shove himself back inside of you before you can finish speaking. Not that you’re complaining. The men exchange a brief glance, returning their attention to you with something new in mind. They move faster and harsher, struggling as much as you do to keep it together. They could both come right now from the way you pulsate your walls around Yunho or the way your throat muscles flutter around Mingi. But there’s no question that it has to be you first. 

Your eyelids grow heavy, the pressure bursting inside of you, and suddenly gravity doesn’t exist anymore. Mingi holds your hand and Yunho rubs your belly as you squirt down his length. Yunho licks his lips at the mess you've made of his pants, the wet spot growing the more you bounce down onto him. “That’s it, baby. Use my fucking cock, angel.” He lays his hand flat on your clit and slaps it just enough for you to feel the sharpness of the contact.

It makes you clench even tighter—the tightest he’s ever felt you—and he can’t take it anymore. He spills into you, filling you so far beyond your limit that your pussy’s gushing it back out at him before he’s even empty. Mingi plays with your nipples, pinching one and then the other, switching every time you get too used to the feeling.

Your mouth falls open, your overstimulated body beginning to go limp. You keep it open, tongue hanging out to welcome the thick ropes of come Mingi empties into your mouth. It collects in the back of your throat making your moans sound like tiny gurgles. What’s left leaks from the corners of your mouth and Mingi kisses you quickly, swapping the warm, salty liquid back and forth between the two of you until it’s nothing.

You stay entangled with them for an amount of time you can’t really grasp, coming down together. The room slips into silence. The only sound you hear is the symphony of heavy, uneven breaths. You look around at each other, the reality of what you’ve just done setting in. No one regrets it, you’d all be up for it again if one of you had it in you to ask, but it’s hard to know what to say.

You love each other more than anything. What you share is so special that you’ve all done everything to keep from fucking it up. To think that this might be what does. That the next thing to come out of your mouth could destroy it all. It’s terrifying.

Yunho clears his throat, stretching your legs for you so you don’t cramp up. “Can I get you anything? A snack?” You poke your bottom lip out, contemplating your snack options, “Uh, nah. I’m okay.” Noticing your throat sounds a little dry, Mingi grabs a bottle of water from the fridge—the very one you had your hand on earlier—and brings it to you. He twists the cap off and raises it to your lips, “You need to hydrate. I’m not asking.”

“Ooh, when’d you get so bossy?” you ask, taking a sip of water, “I like it.” Mingi takes a sip for himself before passing it to Yunho who chugs down the rest. “Shower?” Yunho says, swishing some water around in his cheeks. To you and Mingi it sounds like “swishwer”. Mingi squints his eyes at him, “Swishwer?” “I think he means ‘shower’” you whisper, trying to channel enough energy to sit yourself up. Yunho nods, swallowing the last few drops. “Yes! That! Shower. I’ll go run the water and you…” He points to Mingi and then to you, “Grab her and be careful. She’s expensive.”

Yunho walks off to the bathroom, leaving the two of you alone in the kitchen. You finally manage to sit up and swing around to face Mingi. He puts his arms around you, kissing the bridge of your nose, “Don’t worry about holding on but just…don’t scream.”

“Don’t scream? Wh—”

Mingi throws you over his shoulder and you do in fact scream. “What are you doing to my girlfriend?” Yunho shouts from the bathroom, flipping the shower on. Mingi carries you down the hall, your feet kicking as you giggle. “She’s fiiiine” he sighs, rolling his eyes, “It’s not like I’m gonna drop her.” Stepping into the bathroom Mingi pretends to trip for the fun of it.

“Put me down you psycho!” you whine, your life flashing before your eyes.

Mingi pouts, nuzzling his cheek up to your side, “I wasn’t really gonna drop you. So mean.” He lowers you down, letting you hold onto his arm while you gain your footing. You go to take your shirt off, it’s barely on, but the room still feels like it’s spinning.

“I got it, baby. Come here.” Yunho pulls you over to him and helps you out of your shirt. In return you help him out of his pants, tossing them off to the side. Yunho hops into the shower and you’re back at Mingi’s side, pushing his shirt up over his head. You never break eye contact once, committing every detail of each other’s naked bodies to memory.

You lead him into the shower and find yourself happily positioned between the two of them beneath the warm running water. Yunho cuddles you from the front and Mingi holds you from behind. The three of you fit together perfectly, like you were always meant to be like this.

Eventually you’ll have to say something. You’ll have to have an honest conversation about where things go from here. But for tonight you’ll stay in this moment together, letting your hearts revel in feelings your lips may never speak of again.

[kittifang]

❝ THREE’S A CROWD? ❞

WC : 543 includes : reader is more of a voyeur in this, voyeurism, frottage, mxm, poly satosuga, dirty talk, edging, 18+ MDNI

poly! satosuga that you walk in on, both men desperately working their hips into the other's as their twitching cocks grind together, the swollen tips leaking with precum and making the slide even more sensual. You freeze, not wanting to interrupt yet simultaneously wanting to because, god, are they beautiful together. Your eyes are stuck on the way Geto's hand wraps around both of their lengths, pumping and working them together, the lewd sound accompanied by Gojo's grunts and their shared moans.

With the wet smacking of their sloppy kisses against each other's lips, you can already feel yourself dripping into your panties at the wanton scene. The pair's skin is shiny with sweat, their bodies glistening with a sheen of it,  slipping down their forheads and soaking their hair, which tells you they've been up to this for a while. You watch as the white-haired man buries his face into the crook of his lovers, whining as the fingers of Geto's spare hand sink into the flesh of his ass.

Gojo's always been greedy, always wanting for more, and there's no exception in the bedroom, and Suguru loves taking advantage of that. With how debauched and outright greedy your blue-eyed lover looks, you'd guess it's another one of those instances. He presses his forehead against Geto's with a plead, "S-suguru, please,-ngh- need to cum f-fuck!". And he receives a chuckle in response with a caress of the man's thumb over the weeping slit of his cock.

"Hmm, you think you deserve it? Maybe I'll be nice because you asked so prettily. Just look at you all desperate for me." Black eyes finding his rivers of desperate blue as their foreheads press together, Satoru looks so dazed and needy, all flush and whiny—just how Geto likes him, and he can't resist giving into him. He's already edged the poor man twice and knows he's reaching his limit, so he hums. Hand snaking from Satoru's ass to wrap around his neck to press their lips together, his other still steadily pumping the both of them, and he ups the pace. The actions only turn Gojo even more needy, his muffled moans of "Suguru! g-gonna cum t-thankyou thankyou thankyou" swallowed by the black-haired man's mouth, all messy and full of clashing teeth.

A string of spit connects their wet lips as Suguru tilts the other man's head and takes the lobe of his ear into his mouth, nipping the flesh as he speaks once more. "Thats a good boy, make a mess, baby, cum all over my cock just like that." And with a few more strokes of his hand, that's all it takes for a cry of "Suguru!" to leave Gojo's lips as his hips stutter, heavy balls tightening as he paints Geto's cock and his own abs with his seed.

He could cry from how fucking good it feels, rocking his hips as he's milked for all he's worth, groaning and whimpering as his twitching tip drips with the last remains of his spend. He buries his head in his beloved neck's once more. Now in tiredness as he breaths raggedly, those same hands rake over his back as he recovers. Soon enough those black eyes finds yours with a smirk from across the room, taking in your too pressed together thighs and red cheeks. "Enjoy the show, sweetheart?" And you swallow, you just know you're in for trouble.

AN//: errr this was supposed to be a lil drabble and I ended up getting VERY carried away😅 (who's surprised) :P. This is the first thing I've written since last year so hopefully y'all like it,i would greatly appreciate your thoughts and feedback!! byeeeee :D.

[pseudowho]

"How well can you drive?"

(help me find the Nanami artist in the banner, for crediting and thanks/permission!)

Nanami Kento's driving skills are put to the test, as the reader decides to put her mouth to good use.

Warnings: You've heard enough, 18+ as usual

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"How well can you drive?" you asked Kento, elbow leaning against the tinted windows as the car engine rumbled along underneath you. You had a long journey ahead, the weather was fine, and you felt...naughty.

Kento kept his eyes ahead as he frowned, bemused; "Well..I've never been in an accident that was my fault." You hummed to yourself, not satisfied with his answer. Kento sighed.

"I passed my test with just one minor." You hummed again, legs crossed, fidgeting in your seat.

"I've...never made you feel unsafe in the car, have I?"

"Oh god, no. Never." Kento looked satisfied.

"Then I'm a pretty good driver, I'd say," glancing at you as your eyes glinted, "...why?" You looked to Kento, biting your lip, eyes wicked.

Your hand was resting on Kento's thigh now, and you stroked it, fingers creeping to his inner thigh and higher with each movement. Kento let out a breathless cough, and gripped your hand. Stopping at traffic lights, he fixed you with a deep frown.

"Behave yourself," he scolded, "that is grossly irresponsible." You pouted, eyes still glimmering deviously, heat pooling in your belly as he told you off, only spurring you on.

"Well...let's see how good of a driver you are, hmm?" Unclicking your belt, you leaned over the centre of the car to drape yourself onto his lap. He reached over you, stunned, changing gears as the traffic lights changed and the car shifted to life again.

Your mouth was on his thighs, leaving soft little nips up the inside of them, as you gently unbuttoned the lowest buttons of his shirt, untucking it from his trousers as you stroked the sensitive skin at the bottom of his abs. Kento coughed again, alarmed, desire trickling through him, split with anger at how poorly behaved you were being.

"This is a terrible idea," he grumbled, as your mouth drifted to his v-line, kissing along the soft patch of honey-coloured hair there, leaving lovebites and marks above his belt. Your fingers gently unbuckled his belt, pushing it aside. You were satisfied to feel Kento's body betraying him, palming the outside of his zipper as his cock swelled underneath it.

Kento's foot stuttered on the accelerator as you squeezed him through his trousers and the car juddered forwards-- "fuck," Kento hissed, holding your hand against his zipper, looking down at you with restrained fury. You giggled. He sighed.

"Whatever it is you want to do," he pressed out through gritted teeth, "I'm sure I'll remain an exemplary driver." He shot you a stern look.

"So finish what you've started." You didn't need to be told twice. Kissing your way down his belly again, you unbuttoned his trousers, and, gripping his zipper between your teeth, slowly undid it. Kento gulped-- "You are feral," he hissed--concentrating hard on the road as he felt his cock twitch in his boxers.

With you slipping a hand inside his trousers and squeezing his rigid cock, Kento sat up in his seat for a moment to push his trousers down enough that he sprang free, long, thick and pink-tipped against his belly.

Kento groaned as your hot little mouth immediately encircled the tip of his cock, your hand gripping him at the base, as you swirled your tongue around him with a happy hum, licking off the precum as Kento gasped, eyes drifting closed for just a moment. Kento focused on gear changes, his brain stuttering when you cupped his balls as he altered his speed, another car pulling in front of him. He groaned as you sucked, sinking your mouth down his cock.

Kento's head swam, low moans rolling out of him as you worked your mouth up and down his length, tapering your lips almost closed around his tip before sucking him back in, tongue licking firmly against the underside of his cock. One of Kento's hands left the wheel to sink into your hair, urging your mouth down so your nose scraped against his hipbone.

"Ah, ah-- shit--" Kento swore, hips flicking upwards as you gagged, the back of your throat closing around the tip of his cock, "just like that-- please, shit, please--" Kento braked hard at another set of traffic lights, relieved as the car jolted to a stop, his hands white-knuckled on the wheel and the back of your head, pulling your hair at the roots as he pressed your head down against him.

You moved your head quickly now, his cock drenched with spit and pre-cum as your throat bobbed around him, intermittently gagging around his throat as Kento groaned, hand loose on the back of your head as you swallowed around him, Kento's eyes squeezed shut in agonising pleasure.

The car behind yours beeped and Kento swore, pulling off quickly as he realised he'd missed the lights changing, his orgasm approaching, pleasure ebbing through his thighs and lower back. Focusing on gear changes had Kento nearly stalling the car, and you took him deep into your throat, moaning around him.

Kento nearly went blind with pleasure as the vibrations of your moan shot through his cock, his hand flying off the gearstick to grab your head again, pressing your nose down to his hipbones again as he came, his hips bucking as spurts of cum shot down your throat, pulling your head back so he could feel it settle on your tongue.

He gasped, his skin prickling with the aftershocks of his orgasm as you languidly licked him clean, looking at him with that same wicked glint in your eye as you swallowed. Kento groaned again, shaky and trying to compose himself as he continued to drive, quiet for a few moments as he indicated and pulled into a service station.

His head dropped back against the seat and a drip of sweat ran down his forehead, and Kento scowled at you as you grinned, happy with yourself.

"First, we grab a drink," grumbled Kento, "then, we see how well you can drive."

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Look, I promise I'll behave myself and write some fluff next week.

[hairmetal666]

Eddie's at a party, lunch box in tow, and he's making a fucking killing.

He sets up shop in the crowded kitchen, but that doesn't stop him from spotting King Steve in the living room. Harrington's face is still fucked up from the fight with Hargrove, and he's tipping a cup almost vertically into his mouth. He's not too surprised when--the next time he spots the jock--he has a can of beer in each fist.

More customers flood up to him, and he can't help but be a little grateful for the distraction. Harrington is one unrequited crush he just can't kick.

Lunch box cleaned out, Eddie heads outside for a smoke. He's fishing his cigarettes out of his jacket pocket when he hears a snuffling sort of shuffle that sends his heart racing.

He edges forward, just enough to make out the heap of a person half-heartedly sitting up against the house. A person in fitted blue jeans, tight polo, and Member's Only jacket; swoop of chestnut hair catching in the flash of fire from Eddie's Zippo.

"Harrington?"

The guy startles, stability wavering, eyes blinking too much. "Munson?"

"You alright, man?" He asks, though he can already tell that Steve is most definitely not.

Steve shrugs. "Why do you care?" It's not mean, sounds genuinely curious.

Eddie gets it. He has no reason on earth to show concern about King Steve. In answer, he taps his boot against Steve's sneaker, giving him a small smile. "Not sure. But I'm here, so..."

"Just needed some air. Clear my head."

"How much have you had to drink?" Eddie asks.

"One or two,"

"Dozen?"

Steve laughs. "You're funny. Has anyone ever told you that?"

"I've heard," Eddie says, can't help but laugh a little too. "Wanna talk about what's going on?"

Eddie thinks that'll be a "no," but then: "Nancy dumped me."

"Yeah, big news."

"Ugh, people are talking about it?" Steve whines. It's really cute and Eddie hates himself for noticing. Hates himself more when Steve loses his balance, tips onto Eddie's shoulder, and Eddie doesn't tip him back.

Eddie can tell that Steve isn't fully with him anymore. He's a little afraid to leave the guy alone, so Eddie talks about the latest Hellfire campaign. Sober Steve Harrington probably has no idea what dnd is, but the drunk version is kind of a rapt audience.

He's just explaining about owlbears when Steve's voice, soft and sad, says "I just want someone to love me, you know?"

The admission renders Eddie speechless for a second, his chest fucking aching for the jock. He says "Oh, Stevie," knows he sounds too sad, is sure of it when Steve's nose wrinkles (it's cute; it's so fucking cute. Eddie hates himself for noticing).

Before he can backtrack, Steve slumps over, body going limp as he passes out. "Jesus H Christ," Eddie barks.

With a heavy sigh, and way too much fondness, Eddie stands. "Let's get you home, sweetheart."

He gathers Harrington up in his arms--dude is heavy--and carries him around to his van.

---

Steve wakes up, head throbbing and tongue fuzzy, with no idea how he got home and into bed. Can't really recall anything after he stumbled outside, aside from talking to Eddie Munson. But maybe that was a dream? Either way, he's home, not really any worse for wear. It's enough to let him forget all about it; what's one drunken party in a life full of them?

That Wednesday, he opens his locker after the final bell, and a Hershey bar falls out. He picks it up, flipping it over to see a note on the foil wrapping, "thought you might need something sweet to cheer you up." It's not signed, and Steve slips it into his backpack, knowing he's got a silly smile on his handsome face.

The little gifts continue to show up once or twice a week. Candy, plastic vending machine toys, sketches of the school grounds, caricatures of classmates and teachers. Sometimes they even come with a note in handwriting he doesn't recognize.

Along with the little treats, he starts seeing Eddie Munson kind of everywhere. And it's not like Steve hadn't seen him before--guy was hard to miss--but he was never around this often. Wasn't around this often and he and Steve had never shared a smile, a quick bob of the head, a quiet hello.

It isn't long before they're talking. Nothing much, nothing serious. Complaining about teachers, about classmates; sharing weekend plans. Only now Steve can't pretend to not notice the way Eddie dimples up when he smiles, the subtle muscles that bunch under the sleeves of his Hellfire Club shirt, the long litheness of his legs. Steve knows he's attracted to other guys, it's just that he didn't realize he'd be attracted to Eddie.

The gifts keep coming. Once, he opens his locker to find a plastic ring fashioned into a golden crown and a note that says, "made me think of you, Stevie." There's something about the "Stevie" that catches deep in his brain, but he can't make it connect to anything.

A few months later, Steve opens his locker and pulls out a drawing. This one--it's of him. He's gazing out into space in a way that managers to be dreamy and wistful. The Steve in the drawing is lovely, and it makes something clench deep in his gut, that someone sees him like this.

Steve tries to be more aware of the people in his surroundings, to figure out who his admirer is. He's not very good at it, even as more sketches of him--all depicting him as a gorgeous, ethereal thing he definitely isn't--show up in his locker. Especially when, so often these days, the person he sees the most is Eddie.

---

The presents in his locker continue into April, and would probably last until the end of the school year, but Steve's got a migraine starting. He keeps aspirin in his locker, gets a hall pass out of English to get some.

When he reaches his locker, though, someone is already there, with the door open. Someone in ripped black jeans, heavy black boots, a black leather jacket, and patch covered denim vest.

"Munson?" He asks. His heart beats so hard it reverberates in his ears, making it hard to hear.

Eddie jumps back, hands fluttering, face flushing bright red. "Ste--Harrington! I--uh--," he's backing up, his hands held out from his body, like he's pushing Steve away even though they aren't touching.

"Were you--?" Steve tries to ask, but the words won't quite come. There's familiar warmth low in his stomach, a twisting that has nothing to do with his impending migraine.

"I wasn't doing anything, I swear," Eddie says. He's breathing hard, eyes too bright, and Steve thinks he might be about to cry, but then the metalhead is turning away, starting to run.

"Eddie, wait!" Steve calls, chasing after him without much thought. "Please!"

Eddie doesn't stop until after they've crashed out one of the side exits, are alone outside.

"It was you? Leaving the--?"

Eddie nods, presses his hands to his eyes. "Sorry, I'm sorry, Harrington. I just--"

"Don't be sorry," Steve begs. "It's been--I liked it."

"Even now that you know they're coming from the freak?" Eddie spits. He still hides his face behind his hands.

"It's sort of been the best part of my year, if I'm being honest."

Only now does the metalhead remove his hands, blink back at Steve, dark eyes wide with shock. "Really?"

"Yeah. It made me feel-- important, I guess? Like, maybe someone saw me as something more than King Steve."

Eddie smiles now, looks down at the pavement. "I just didn't want you to think that you weren't--" he stops then, presses his mouth tight.

"Didn't want me to think what?"

"That you weren't loved, Stevie."

The statement hangs between them, Eddie's face pinking again, as the words wrap their way around Steve's heart. Loved. That he's loved. It clenches at every part of him, and he surrounds himself with the truth of it, what all those little presents were saying without words.

"Eddie, I--" he's overwhelmed by the gesture, the meaning, the reciprocal buzz in his chest, because Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson, loves him, and this fact is turning Steve's world on it's head in the best way.

"I'm sorry, Steve, really. Please don't hate me, or--or--"

"It means so much to me," Steve says, his voice a little broken. He reaches a hand out, slow, telegraphing the movement. "Can I?" He whispers.

Eddie nods, and Steve strokes the skin of his face with his thumb. "Thank you."

The metalhead nods, leaning into Steve's touch, they shift close, until their foreheads meet, until they share the same air. They stand that way for a while, long enough that they hear the bell ringing, and only then does Steve break their quiet. "Eds?"

"Yeah, Stevie?"

"You wanna hangout some time?"

Eddie laughs. "Yeah. I really, really do, sweetheart."

[iamgonnagetyouback]

𝟷.𝟹𝚔 || 𝐃𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐍

♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: James becomes a worried mother hen when you faint in Herbology class.

♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: None

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: James Potter x reader

The hospital wing always smelled faintly of antiseptic potions and freshly laundered sheets. You were lying in one of the many crisp, white beds, a blanket pulled up to your chin. A stubborn cough rattled your chest, but you felt far better than when you first arrived. Madam Pomfrey had been quick with a cure, leaving you with a potion for congestion and strict instructions to rest.

James Potter, however, had other plans.

“You’re supposed to be resting,” James tutted, bustling around like a worried mother hen. He had already fluffed your pillows twice in the last fifteen minutes, and now he was pouring you another glass of water, insisting that you sip it slowly.

"James, seriously," you croaked, trying to wave him off, "I'm fine. Madam Pomfrey said the worst is over. I just need some sleep—"

"Sleep?!" he interrupted, turning to you with wide eyes as if you'd just suggested something utterly preposterous. "You can’t just sleep this off, love. You're sick! And you didn’t even tell me you were feeling bad until you practically passed out during Herbology!" He shook his head, muttering under his breath. “You’re impossible.”

You groaned, sinking further into the pillows. “I’m not that sick, James. Honestly.”

But James ignored you entirely, moving on to smoothing out the blankets on the bed, adjusting them just so, then darting back to your side to press a hand to your forehead. He frowned in concern, despite the fact that your fever had already broken.

"Still too warm," he muttered to himself, then in a louder voice added, "Do you need another blanket? What about your potion? Have you taken your potion?"

"Yes!" you replied, exasperated, holding up the empty potion bottle as proof. "I've taken it. I’m fine, really.”

But James wasn’t having any of it. "You should have told me earlier," he scolded softly, eyes narrowing at you in a way that was more affectionate than anything else. "Running around the castle when you're sick, not taking care of yourself. What were you thinking?"

You rolled your eyes, a little grin tugging at your lips despite how tired you felt. “I didn’t want to make a fuss,” you mumbled.

“Well, too bad!” James retorted, crossing his arms over his chest in a very Sirius-like manner, though the anxious gleam in his eyes was entirely his own. “I’m going to fuss whether you like it or not.”

Before you could protest, he was off again, striding toward the door of the hospital wing. “I’ll be back. I’m going to get more of that potion from Madam Pomfrey.”

“James—!” You tried to sit up, but your aching body protested. “She already said you have to leave! She’s going to hex you if you keep pestering her for more potions!”

He shot you a wink over his shoulder. “Let her try.”

True to his word, James disappeared through the door, only to return minutes later with another small vial of potion in his hand. He looked smug, though his hair was even more disheveled than before, a clear sign that Madam Pomfrey had tried to shoo him away more than once.

“She said you have to drink this,” he declared, holding the potion out to you with a flourish. “And then, you rest. Properly.”

“I don’t need it—”

“Drink.”

You sighed but took the vial from his hand, knowing there was no winning when James was like this. You uncorked the potion and took a sip, wrinkling your nose at the taste. James was watching you closely, arms still crossed, but the tenderness in his gaze was undeniable.

Once you’d finished, he set the empty vial aside and sat on the edge of the bed, leaning in to smooth your hair away from your face. “You scared me,” he admitted softly, his earlier bravado slipping away for a moment. “Seeing you like that in class, all pale and weak… I hate it when you’re not feeling well.”

You reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “I’m alright now, James. Really. You don’t have to worry so much.”

“Too late,” he said with a crooked smile. “I’m going to worry about you forever, I think. So, you better get used to it.”

You chuckled lightly, though it quickly turned into another coughing fit. James immediately leapt into action, patting your back gently and handing you the glass of water.

“See?” he said, a little too smug for your liking. “This is why I’m fussing.”

You shot him a playful glare, but the warmth in your chest was undeniable. As much as you protested, having James dote on you like this wasn’t the worst thing in the world. You leaned back into the pillows once more, exhaustion pulling at your limbs.

James, sensing that you were finally settling, sat down beside you again. This time, he didn’t scold you or rush around. Instead, he took your hand in his, thumb rubbing soft circles over your skin.

“Get some rest,” he murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll be right here.”

And despite your earlier protests, you felt your eyes fluttering shut, comforted by the warmth of James beside you. Maybe, just maybe, letting him fuss over you wasn’t so bad after all.