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jjunieworld · 10 months ago

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spilt milk ⋆｡˚ 🥛 𓂅

part two to the great bake off!! — requested by anon, enjoy! ♡

pairing: choi soobin x afab!reader (no prns!)

genre: smut, pwp (previous part), some fluff if you squint

synopsis: after a particularly messy competition week in the shop, you and soobin are told to stay after hours to clean the bakery up. with soobin winning the title of the best baker who ever lived, you have an idea of what his prize should be.

warnings: soft dom!soobin & somewhat sub!reader, freshly established relationship, soobin has a big fat dick, slight size kink (can you blame me), unprotected sex (pls wrap it i beg!), fingering, oral (m. receiving), making out, slight exhibitionism(?), multiple creampies, multiple orgasms, slight orgasm control, some praise, use of pet names (baby, darling), slight hair pulling (m.), fingers are in mouths, slight dick training(?), lots of teasing, marking, slight overstimulation, some cockwarming

word count: 4.0k┊part one┊masterlist

a/n: i’m sorry but i’m laughing so hard at the cute ass pictures i chose only for you to look down and see the huge paragraph of warnings lmaoo… anon, this one is for you (and for me), you’re welcome!! this was a blast to write even if it did take me forever ♡

it was the day after soobin was crowned the best baker who ever lived, a monday, and the tensions in the competition were at an all time high. you thought you were competing hard before, but it was nothing compared to the all out war you and soobin we’re having right now.

mrs, choi had left the two of you in charge of the bakery while she ran to get some more ingredients and various other things that the bakery needed. honestly, it really didn’t help your competition. everytime one of you had to take your turn up at the register, you would bring the mess from the back of the bakery with you.

dry ingredients was all over the floor near the register. you and soobin were covered in everything under the sun. when mrs. choi had come back, she almost dropped the bags she was carrying in shock. once the two of you had finished all the orders for the day—which didn’t take you all that long at the pace you both were going—mrs. choi pulled you both aside, scolding you and telling you to stay late to clean up. it’s safe to say she wasn’t that happy, though you had to hold in your laugh when she was scolding soobin and flour kept falling from his hair as he nodded.

now you and soobin were near each other, brooms in hand, trying to get the flour and sugar off the floor and failing miserably. “why is this actually impossible?” you asked aloud as you tried to sweep the flour but it only kept spreading. you sighed in defeat and went to wipe off the counters instead.

“i know, it’s making me almost regret going so hard in the competition today…” soobin trailed. so far, soobin had the most points this week. he was washing a huge pile of dishes and looked like wanted to die because of it. you giggled at him as you picked up discarded dough and threw it in the trash.

at least the two of you weren’t a mess anymore. mrs. choi made the two of you go home and shower before coming back. it was a little weird coming back to the bakery while the sun was just over the horizon. the blinds in front of the windows were pulled down and the open sign was turned to closed. the hanging stars were glowing softly when you came to the back to begin cleaning.

once the bakery was finally clean and you and soobin were putting the cleaning supplies away, he suddenly asked, “what’s my prize?” you turned to him, a confused look on your face as you put away the broom. soobin was leaning back on the counter next to the register, a slight pout on his lips.

“what do i get for being crowned the best baker who ever lived?” he asked, his question clearer. there was a hint of a teasing smirk on his face, which you rolled your eyes slightly to. then a thought occurred to you, a mischievous grin forming on your lips. you strolled to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. his arms immediately wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer.

you hummed softly. “i’m thinking something soft…” you trailed as you look up at him through hooded eyes. “something warm…” you trailed your fingers down soobin’s chest slowly, continuing until you were a couple of inches above the waistband of his sweatpants. soobin’s eyes followed the motion. your eyes flickered up to him to see he was watching your hand intently, light pink dusting his cheeks.

“something you can fill…” you leaned in to say lowly as you looked into his eyes. you felt something hard against your thigh as soobin’s arms wrapped tighter around your waist. you brought your lips inches from his ear. “would you like that?” you whispered seductively, breath fanning lightly on his neck. goosebumps formed seconds later and you smirked slightly as you pressed feather light kisses to his jawline.

you moved the arm that was still around his neck to cup his face, staring up at him with doe eyes. soobin’s lips were on yours hungrily. his fingertips pressed into the small of your back and you let out a soft moan. your hand lightly palmed the bulge in his sweatpants and soobin backed away your lips, whimpering slightly as he pressed his forehead to yours. “y/n…” he breathed, his breaths were coming out short as you continued your palming.

smiling slightly against his lips, you pulled away and dropped to your knees in front of him, keeping your eyes on his. if the bakery windows weren’t covered right now, it would be a sight to see. “fuck…” he muttered lowly, barely audible for you to hear. the tips of his ears and his cheeks were a deep pink. you hooked your fingers into his waistband and pulled softly, eyes still on his. he squeezed his eyes shut briefly, “please, y/n…”

you were one to oblige. you grabbed the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers and pulled them down slowly. soobin’s fingers were gripping the edge of the counter so hard that they were turning white. soobin’s cock sprang up, free from the restraints of his clothes, and bounced lightly off his lower abdomen.

you stared at it with wide eyes. you weren’t expecting soobin’s cock to be so… huge, you had no idea how you were gonna fit it all in your mouth like you originally intended. soobin let out a soft whimper as you started lightly pumping his shaft with both hands. precum trailed down the tip of his cock and you lapped it up.

soobin let out a loud moan, throwing his head back briefly. he looked down at you, eyes glazed. “s-stop teasing…” soobin managed as you continued to pump him and kitten lick his head. he put a hand on your shoulder, pushing you closer. you giggled, the vibrations making him let out another moan, and put him in your mouth slowly. you definitely weren’t going to be able to take all of him, at about half way you were basically deepthroating him. soobin let out a shuddering breath, “please y/n… i need— need you to start moving.” you did as you were told, moving your mouth up and down his shaft slowly.

you could tell soobin was close when his head fell and his cock started to twitch in your mouth. his breathing was heavy and the grip on your shoulder tightened. soobin moved the hand from your shoulder to the back of your head. “i’m so… close… faster…” he whined as he softly moved your head. you wrapped a hand at the base of his shaft and started pumping as you sucked him off faster.

the cord finally snapped and you felt warm liquid pour into your mouth and down your throat. you hummed, continuing your motions as you helped soobin ride out his high. he was a whimpering mess in front of you. you pulled soobin’s cock out your mouth slowly, staring up at him as you swallowed his cum. that almost undid him again completely as he moaned your name softly between haggard breaths.

soobin cupped your face and pulled you to your feet, crashing his lips onto yours. it was sloppy and desperate as he slid his hands down your waist and to your thighs. he hooked his hands under them and lifted you up, prompting you to wrap your legs around his bare waist. the tip of his dick brushed against your ass and you rocked your hips at the touch. you needed him. needed his huge cock inside you, filling you up, begging you to break. soobin moaned against your lips, sending a shiver up your spine.

you were backed against the wall where the chalkboard menu was as you and soobin hungrily kissed each other. you pushed your hips off the wall and towards his needily. pulling away, you let out a moan and soobin’s lips immediately found your neck, sucking down on it. moving your neck so he could get better access, you whimpered as he found your sweet spot. “soobin…”

soobin hummed as he pressed kisses to the sensitive marks. you shivered slightly. “need you… please…” you whined as his tip brushed against you again. you were sure the panties you wore were soaked and soobin had barely even touched you. soobin trailed his kisses from your neck to your cheek. you hardly felt him move you to the back of the bakery, too drunk on his lips on yours.

it wasn’t until you were bent over the ingredients table, soobin pulling your leggings and wet panties down and discarding them off to the side somewhere, that you realized you were in a different part of the bakery. you gasped at the sudden exposure and looked back to soobin. he pressed his body up against you, his dick rubbing against your ass. soobin looked down at you, desire swirling in his eyes. he placed his hands on your hips as you grinded back onto him, needing some sort of friction.

soobin put his head in the crook of your neck as you whimpered. “you know how i got the title of the greatest baker alive?” soobin asked you lowly, lips coming to your ear. he held your hips in place when you tried to grind back on him again and instead lifted one of your legs onto the table. soobin pressed light kisses across your back until he was at your other ear. one of his hands trailed from your hip down to your clit. he started rubbing small circles onto it. you arched your back, moaning his name as you melted underneath him. “by being good with my hands,” soobin continued, whispering in your other ear. his breath fanned your neck as his fingers traveled further.

you looked back to him, a desperate look on your face, as you grinded back on him again. his hard cock rubbed slightly on your entrance and you fell down onto the table at the euphoria. using the hand that was on your hip, soobin trails it up under your shirt and up your stomach as he pulls you up and back towards him until your head is leaning against his chest. his hand cups your breast, thumb rubbing your nipple slightly. your shirt rises at the action, exposing your other breast to the cold wind. “would you like to see how good i am with my hands?”

whimpering at his touch, all you can do is look up into his eyes and nod. “let me hear your pretty words, baby.” soobin speaks as he rubs his two long fingers against your entrance. you’re breathing heavily and it takes you everything you have to push out words. “p-please…”

soobin’s fingers halt its movements. “please what?” you take your lip between your teeth and bite down hard and inhale sharply at the loss of friction. “please soobin—” your head falls slightly and soobin takes the hand from your breast and tilts it back up so you’re staring at him again. “show… show me how— how good you are…” you finally push out. soobin gives you a satisfied smile and presses his lips to yours at the same time as he pushes two slender fingers into you.

gasping loudly against his lips, your knees almost buckled had it not been for the fact that soobin was holding you up. he pumped his fingers in and out of you, trying to go slowly but you were so wet his fingers quickly became slick with your arousal, moving faster than intended. “fuck y/n… you’re so wet. and it’s all for me.”

soobin locked his lips with yours, keeping you against him as kept fucking you so you wouldn’t double over. his long fingers then curled against your walls, hitting just the right spot. you moaned against his lips, “don’t stop… d-don’t—”

the difference between how soobin was kissing you and how he was fingering you sent your head into even more of a daze. he was kissing you so slowly, so softly as his fingers pushed in and out of you relentlessly. it had you clenching around him as the squelching sounds and your desperate moans and whimpers filled the room. “i won’t, baby, i won’t.”

your body shuddered as your back arched suddenly. you pulled away from soobin’s lips as you struggled to breathe. “gonna cum…” you trailed off breathily. soobin continued his pumping and started rubbing your nipple again. he pressed open mouthed kisses to your neck. you felt his smile when you shivered from it. “cum for me, darling. all over my fingers.”

drowning in the pleasure soobin was giving you, you came all over his fingers just like he told you to. soobin didn’t stop, in fact he started fucking you with his fingers faster. your hands clenched against the table as you moaned his name, completely fucked out.

soobin took his fingers out of you, holding it in front of you to see as the remaining white liquid dripped out of you and down your thigh. his whole hand was dripping with your release, drops of it falling onto the table. “look at how good you did, baby. you took my fingers so well.” you took his hand, staring up at him through glazed and hooded eyes, and put his wet fingers in your mouth. you smiled lazily at him as you pull them out slowly, relishing in the way his eyes widen a fraction. soobin took his thumb and dragged it across your bottom lip and chin, picking up the cum that dripped onto it. he pushed his thumb into your mouth and you gladly sucked the cum off of it. soobin placed a sloppy kiss on your lips, his tongue dancing in your mouth as he tasted your arousal.

he pulls away and turns you around, pushing you down gently onto the table by your shoulders and lifting your legs onto it. “i wanna see your pretty face when i fuck you.” you lean back to one side on your elbow, still breathing heavily from your orgasm. you reach for his cock and pump it slowly. “soobin… i need you… inside me…” you whimper.

soobin spreads your legs and pushes them towards your chest as he leans forward and kisses you. pulling away, he looks at you with genuine concern. “are you sure you can take it all?” you nod rapidly. instead of his cock, soobin pushes three fingers into you. he does it with ease as he slowly moves them in and out of you, leaning forward and kissing you.

whining against his lips, you buck your hips up, which causes his fingers to go deeper into you. you cried out in pleasure. “please… i need it,” you moan. soobin chuckles as he takes his fingers out and puts them in his own mouth, you groan at the sight, head falling back against the wall. he takes his cock and lines it up with your entrance, rubbing it with his tip a little. “you want my cock?” you buck your hips again, a whimper escaping your lips.

soobin laughs softly and pushes his thick cock into you slowly, his head flying back as he let out a moan as you stretch around him. his cock is inside you halfway when he stops, letting you adjust. he leans down to kiss you as he starts rubbing slow circles on your clit.

once you adjust, he starts moving slowly, only ever putting half of him inside you. you arch your back, getting used to how much he already fills you up. you’re already close to cumming again and soobin can tell as your walls clench around him and your legs shake. his hands are against the wall as he squeezes his eyes shut briefly. you grind up against him and it almost takes the both of you out. his head falls as he places his hands flat on the table and your brows scrunch up as you both let out an entangled moan.

soobin takes his cock out from inside you and you whine at the loss. he laughs lowly, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine and to your core. his fingers stop rubbing your clit and tears prick at your eyes from how badly you need the sensation back. “you want it that badly?” soobin asks you lowly, his voice soft as he leans down close to your lips. all you can do is lean your head against the wall and nod.

“let me hear your words, baby.” soobin continues his slow circles on your clit.

“please…” you whisper desperately, running your hands through his hair and pulling a little so that it pulls his head back. “i-i need your cock… badly…” soobin moaned softly and you chased his lips, needing his lips on yours, as you clawed at his back. he pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, then pulled away from you fully. soobin then takes his other hand and grabs one of your legs and puts it over his shoulder. he doesn’t even get you time to moan at the new angle your clit is being rubbed at before he shoves his cock back inside you, completely bottoming out. you gasp as the sudden feel of him, back arching and hips rolling involuntarily.

soobin gives you a second of adjustment before he thrusts sharply into you. you let out a loud cry of pleasure as you melt under him. soobin continues his quick thrusts into you, making sure he pulls all the way out until just his tip is inside you before slamming back into you again. he holds your leg to his chest tightly and the slow circles on your clit become fast ones. you're a whimpering mess under him, only being able to moan his name, as you grip onto the edge of the table desperately.

“is this what you want? for me to fuck you like this?” soobin asks you through pants, pummeling into you faster. you gasp and squeeze your eyes shut, crying out as you feel yourself cum again and your back arches more. soobin fucks the cum back into you. you whine, barely nodding, as your clit grows more and more sensitive from his circling. your breaths are coming out haggard under his unrelenting movements and you can tell he’s close by the way his thrusts grow sloppier and his hips jerk.

soobin takes his hand from your clit and you finally get a full breath in. your brain is foggy with pleasure and you see that his is too. his eyes are glazed over as he stares down at his cock entering and exiting you. the sounds coming from your bodies are downright pornographic. the wetness as soobin fucks mercilessly into you, your skin slapping hard against each other, the creaking of the table under you, and the loud, desperate moans and whimpers that are leaving the both of your lips. it’s all too much. so much that it almost makes you cum again and you lean your head back, tears in your eyes, to look at the ceiling.

soobin suddenly grabs your jaw, making you look him in the eyes. “speak up, baby. tell me how you want me to fuck you.” he says low and breathily. you stare at him through your lashes, breathy moans coming from your mouth as you shake violently under him from another orgasm.

“i-i want you to fuck me hard…” you manage, “senseless…” a satisfied grin plays on his lips as he pulls your face towards him for a deep kiss that quickly turns sloppy as he releases into you, filling you up even more to the point where cum is dripping out of you and onto the table.

soobin’s kisses turn soft as his thrusts slow to a stop and he whispers words of praise in your ear. you’re both panting and sweaty at the whole exchange as you pull away from each other. soobin holds you close, cock still inside you, as your shaking ceases and he rubs circles into your back. “you did so good for me, darling. you took my cock so well. i’m proud of you.” once you’re still again, he wipes the stray tears that escaped from your eyes off your cheeks and cups your face, pressing feather light kisses on your eyes. he brings his forehead to yours and gives you a soft kiss on the nose that you giggle at as you lean back on your hands.

finally, soobin pulls out of you and releases a river of cum with it onto the table that drips down to the floor. he smirks down at it before looking back at you, his smirk growing at how fucked out you look. you barely even register the smirk. it disappears as his eyes then go soft, cupping your face again.

“too much?” soobin asked, concern lacing his voice. you remove your leg from his shoulder, the feeling of stickiness intensifying. you shook your head as a dazed smile spreads across your lips. “it was just enough. it was perfect.” you lean over to kiss him and soobin chuckles against your lips.

“what are you gonna do about all of this?” you ask and motion down to your half naked bodies covered in cum. your legs are still spread to avoid sticking them together. the bottom of soobin’s shirt and his sweatpants were ruined with the amount of cum on them. there was cum on your shirt too and you didn’t even know where your leggings and panties were.

“how are we gonna clean up all this cum and go back out into society i think is the better question.” soobin responded, his cheeks flushed. you giggled, and he looks back up to you. “i didn’t know i’d do this good of a job…” you press light kisses to his cheeks.

soobin grabs a warm wet napkin and cleans you up, making sure to be extra gentle. he laughs softly when you twitch from the sudden wetness. he helps you off the table, avoiding the liquids on the ground, and cleans himself off after. you pull your shirt down and look around for your bottoms as soobin pulls up his boxers and sweatpants.

“nice outfit,” you laugh, pulling up your leggings. soobin looks down at the dried cum and laughs. “i could say the same to you,” he replies. he grabs your hips and pulles you close, his arms then wrapping around your waist. you wrapped yours around his neck, playing with the ends of his hair.

“you’re not sore?” he asks softly, “not hurting anywhere?” you press a kiss to his cheek that causes a dimpled smile to show up. you pressed another to his lips. “not hurting anywhere and not sore… yet…” you giggled softly at him. “you don’t have to be so concerned, i’m okay!” after assuring him a couple more times, soobin finally believed you.

it’s safe to say that the two of you had to stay even longer after hours than expected cleaning everything again and fixing the chalkboard menu. you also had to leave the bakery wearing your aprons. for the rest of the week—and honestly, permanently after—soobin was worshiping the ground you walked on.

of course, you had told your best friend sunoo about the events and he almost screamed in the middle of chaconne, flowers flying everywhere. “you’re welcome!” he said, crossing his arms smugly with a satisfied grin. you had to once again remind him that he had no part in your relationship. “i’m the one who told you about the bakery! without me, you’d never get any creampies!” he winked and gave you a pointed look towards your neck that were covered with hickeys badly hidden with a scarf.

you hid your face in your hands as heat spread across it. maybe it was a bad idea telling sunoo about you and soobin having sex…

the shift after at the bakery was awkward to say the least. you both could barely focus on the goods you were making or the competition because you kept thinking about the previous night’s events. the two of you had forgotten about the cameras and soobin had to run to erase the footage before his mom checked them. that surely would’ve been an awkward conversation to have that you were glad was avoided.

the both of you did watch it before deleting it, though, and watching the two of you have sex was a whole other experience. one that you often brought up everytime you wanted to catch soobin off guard and see his pretty cheeks tinged pink.

taglist: @jjunberry @gothgyuu @spooksh0wbabe @beargyuuzz @kittyhyuka

masterlist┊part one┊request rules ⋆｡˚ ᝰ -﹏-

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lovdlydaz · 6 months ago

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❝ TOUCH ME WHERE YOU NEED TO, I CAN GIVE YOU MORE. ❞

loser!choi soobin x black!afab!reader

poor soobin, always been tortured and bullied at school just for being different and caring about his grades. but, need not worry, as you, his lovely best friend, show him things he would only ever dream about.

warnings: virgin!soobin, pervy!soobin, switch!reader, subby soobie, p in v, unprotected sex, m!masturbation, butt loads of praise, little tidbits of degradation, pet names, mommy kink, big dick soobin, js soobin being a little wimp enjoy

a/n: sorry for being so absent y'all, a lot has happened over these past months and i've been on and off in this community. i will try my hardest to get back in full swing since it is summer for me, but it isn't a promised guarantee. however, i will be writing more content for both k-pop and anime, since both are very prevalent in my headspace rn. but subby stupid loser soobin has been rotting in my mind for so long i just had to write about it, so please enjoy this as much as i most definitely did. love y'all, enjoy!!

it was never a quiet day in soobin's life, having to deal with all sorts of things from his work being shoved off his desk to food being thrown at him during lunch hours. this was his senior year of college and, by now, these childish adults should be over this phase right? but, sadly, since he had told people that he thought were his friends that he hadn't been laid ever in his life, they told the entire school and now every person that he comes in contact with either tries to seduce him or make fun of him because of this fact.

but not you, you were different.

soobin had always taken a liking to you, being his roommate and the one person that he could be himself with. he didn't have to make up a persona or have to be this way in order to be accepted, no, you liked and had in common some stuff that he liked, like anime and DnD. he was more than grateful that you didn't torment him like half of the school did, and that you were a pure soul that could do no wrong.

he followed you like a puppy ever since you two met, which you didn't mind but it sort of gave you scary dog privileges. every time you went to the store, he was right besides you with his headphones around his neck and hands in his pockets. no guys would try to mess with you since your 6'1 guy best friend looked like he could kill someone, but he would never.

he would wander off in parts of the store and come back with different manga/funko pops he would find of his favorite anime characters, begging you to buy them for him since he didn't have a stable job nor stable money. you were kind enough to buy it for him and watch him add it to his collection of funko pops on his shelf filled with manga and figurines and all sorts of other things. you watched as he happily organized his collection, giggling like a little girl as he stacked jujutsu kaisen volumes together like a jenga puzzle.

everything he did, you found adorable and innocent. however, he was far from it.

while you were asleep, he would crawl into your room and go through your dirty laundry, grabbing your freshly used underwear and crawling back to his room with them. he would hold them until his nose as he jerked off, moaning your name as he orgasmed right on them. of course he would wash them and put them back in your drawer without you noticing, but you never seemed to wake up despite all of that.

soobin never felt guilty about it either, since that was the closest thing to sex that he would ever get, that he thought of.

one day, you two were walking to the mall, your hair bouncing with your steps due to your letting your curls out in a controlled afro. he watched your smaller form move with your little pink skirt with your pink clothes and nice pink accessories. you had a bit of a bimbo aesthetic, not really so but you dressed in girly colors and girly clothes, never giving a care in the world what others had to say.

you were going to the store to go to a store that soobin specifically wanted to go to. it was a clothing store that also had some mangas in the back of them, but this time he didn't go for the mangas. instead, he wanted to go to the men's section to see what clothes he could get, since he had been wearing the same 5 hoodies ever since his freshman year. you went over with him of course, since you had fashion sense that he had no clue of what that even meant.

he looked at a shirt that had some cool little cartoon designs on it, along with some baggy jeans that had stars on them. he turned to you and held them out, your eyes lighting up and nodding at him for approval. "yes soobie! that fit is so hard," you giggled, soobin smiling at your excitement but he was heading to the changing room. you followed behind him, watching him as he went into the men's room.

he came out in the outfit and it looked so good on him, a little too good in fact. it had your eyes raise in shock and you biting your lip, his whole aesthetic was coming together nicely and it had you feeling things you thought you wouldn't feel for a while. especially for your best friend since freshman year, which was probably why and how these feelings developed overtime.

you chewed your lip as he walked up to you, holding his arms out and looking down at you. "you really do like it?" he asked, pushing his hair out of his face so he could see your face better. "y... yes! yes i do like it choi. it looks really good on you," you softly spoke, making him raise an eyebrow in confusion but he didn't think much of it. he just shrugged and went back to the changing room, getting his regular clothes on and taking the store clothes off.

after that, the whole day was filled with soobin using pinterest as his inspiration to find the coolest outfits that fit his aesthetic. you were happy he was finally starting to gain some confidence in his clothes, the outfits getting from baggy to tight to baggier to tighter. he had a good body so each outfit fit him perfectly, and you enjoyed the tighter outfits better than the baggy ones.

it was starting to get dark outside, so that was when you decided it was time to leave. you grabbed all of your shopping bags (you and soobin's), before the taller man stopped you. "oh y/n, you don't have to carry all the bags. let me do it," and he did. he grabbed all the bags out of your hands with no struggle, walking them to your car and putting them in the back. you smiled and followed after him, loving how kind he was towards you.

it was a nice drive home and you were enjoying his company, even though he was yapping to you about the newest episode of mha that had just came out that day. he had watched it before you two had left and it was plaguing his mind the whole time. he was so excited about it, even though he had the entire manga on his bookshelf that he read about 10 times in the span of 2 years. you didn't mind it however, since he was so cute when he was excited.

once you two got back to the dorms he took all the bags up the stairs and into your shared rooms, you right behind him and opening the door for him since his hands were very full. he walked in and dropped the bags down on the couch, turning around to see you closing the door behind him and locking it. he smiled as he made his way over to the kitchen, immediately going to the fridge since he was a bit hungry from all the escapades you both had went on.

you had decided to cook for the evening, letting him have time to grab all the bags and put them in your respective rooms. he realized how much you really spent on him and yourself, and he was just wondering how in the hell you had so much money. but, then he remembered that you did have a super rich family, and you were very smart so the school was paying you on a full academic scholarship. he was more than grateful though, so he would do something in order to make it up to you.

he would just have to think about it.

even though soobin was a loser and unemployed, he promised that he would still try to get you something special. just because you were his best friend didn't mean that he couldn't treat you nicely. so, he went to a store that you absolutely loved, a makeup store at that, and bought an item that you had wanted but it was out of stock when you both had went the other day. he also purchased a little bag with some stuffing paper, making it a nice little gift with a card inside.

he set it down on your bed when you were at class, since he didn't have class today. and since he didn't have class, he was going to cook for when you got home.

it took a lot of trials and tribulations in order to make a meal that he assumed would remind you of your home back in america, so it was a standard american meal. chicken tenders with fries and some fruit punch on the side. he made the chicken tenders from scratch and used some seasonings that you had brought from your home back there to use in the food. he knew that you were going to love this, and he was all the way right.

as soon as you got home your nose was hit with the wonderful scent of very good food in the kitchen, a smile on your face as you walked over to where the scent was originating from. you were pleasantly surprised to see choi soobin in the kitchen, wearing a tank top and shorts while cooking some more fries. you couldn't hold back your gratitude, going up to him and hugging him tightly.

"thanks soobie! you're the greatest person in the entire world," you beamed, making him 1. blush, 2. stutter over his words and 3. involuntarily gain a massive boner from the hug. he was very thankful for the baggy shorts however, and how he had tucked his cock in his pants to where it was barely noticeable. you did notice though, but you didn't speak about it.

the dinner was filled with laughter and gossip, you telling him about your girl drama while he ranted to you about his gaming prowess. it was a great dinner, and you were both very tuckered out by the time the sun fell.

going to your room you went to grab some clothes, putting your freshly done braids in your bonnet before going to the bathroom and closing the door. that gave soobin the advantage of going into your room and laying on your pillow. he could smell every bit of you, every single scent that lingered on you today was on the pillow and god did it make him hard as a rock.

he palmed himself through his shorts, groaning soft chants of your name and getting so caught up in it that he hadn't realized the shower had cut off, and you were now watching him with a towel wrapped around your body.

his glasses were fallen off his face at this point, tilted as he softly whimpered praise about how you smelled and how pretty you looked. he was so desperate for you that he couldn't stop himself from imagining how your pussy felt, how it smelled, how it tasted, everything about it. he wanted you so badly but he was too much of a pussy to ask you out, and too scared to lose the friendship that he had worked so hard to maintain.

you were his only friend, he couldn't lose one of the only people that understood how he was and why he was this way. he couldn't lose you, so that's why he only fantasized about you.

so, when he finally came back from his imagination his eyes traveled everywhere until they were met with yours. he jumped so hard he tumbled off the bed, quickly getting up and going to leave before you stopped him, despite you being much shorter and weaker than he was. he still let you stop him by standing in his way, giving him a fake disgusted expression even though you were dripping on your thighs right now.

"soobin, what the fuck?" you spat, making the pale boy look down in shame and fear. he knew that he was going to fuck this up, so small tears came into his eyes as the realization of what he had done and the punishment for it finally crawled into his mind. "y/n i— i'm so sorry... i'll leave if you want i... i'm sorry." he mumbled softly, trying to push past you but you didn't let him.

your hand traveled to his chin and you tilted it up, forcing him to look down at you, but in the eyes this time. you didn't say anything, but you just wiped his tears away and smiled sweetly at him. "soobie... don't cry. i'm not mad or disgusted at all, i'm just a little shocked is all," you admitted sincerely, making him raise an eyebrow in confusion. "why are you shocked?" he asked, making you chew on your lip and remove your hands from his face.

"well... i mean, this is one of the first times i've had a guy come into my room and sniff my pillows while moaning my name. so who wouldn't be a little shocked in this situation?" you giggled, making him loosen up a little bit. "yeah... you're right. so... you're not mad at all?" he softly questioned, making you shake your head. "no choi, i'm not mad at all," you reiterated, making him smile brightly at that.

however, you were pretty desperate as well, soaking between your legs and you were still very much naked underneath the towel. soobin also noticed how your voluptuous breasts were starting to poke through the towel, making them a lot more perky than he would normally see them. he could feel his cock throb at that, him gulping a little to keep the saliva from crawling out of his mouth. "though..." you trailed off, making him snap back to reality and realize that he was basically staring dead at your chest.

"it was pretty hot seeing you like that honestly... i know you've never had sex or a girlfriend before, so... i want to ask something of you," you got closer to him, standing on your tippy toes to try to be even with the man's face. "can i be your first?" you asked, not making a move until he said something. he lost his breath as soon as you asked that, mouth dry and heart threatening to pump straight out of his chest because of that revelation.

he needed a second to come down from cloud nine in order to answer you, so you let him. after a second though he nodded his head, you leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. his eyes widened in shock, he had never kissed a girl before, and this was like heaven on earth. he was so happy to be tasting your lips as his first time, and... you would be his first time for everything.

despite his avid use of the orange and black website that most pre-teens to bitchless adults go to for entertainment, he didn't have a fucking clue of what the hell he was doing. he just knew that you weren't letting go of the kiss, so he wouldn't either. that was until you did pull away, which had him chasing your lips desperately because he didn't want to let them go. he just wanted to be near you and be all over you, which he would in a while.

you giggled and got off your tippy toes, grabbing his hand and pulling him to the bed. you put yourself on the bed and laid down, beckoning him to come over to you. he did so in an instant, he was so obedient and it was turning you on even more. you grabbed his face and started to kiss him deeper, having him on top of you made this even better since you could feel all of him all over your body and feel the way he squirmed under your touch.

you could tell that he was very nervous, the way he couldn't even touch your body and how stiff he was in the kiss was a tell-tale sign of it all. so, you pulled away (much to his dismay) and placed a hand on his chubby bunny cheeks. "soobie, you don't have to be so tense with me. i know this is your first time being intimate with someone, but you have to trust me, okay baby?" you spoke in a compassionate tone, the pet name just slipping out. he obviously didn't object to that but it seriously caught him off guard, which made his cheeks redden with a small nod.

you smiled softly at him before sitting up, gently pushing him down so now his head was at the edge of your bed. you took the towel and sat up on your knees, slowly removing it and exposing your naked beautiful body. well, he saw it as beautiful, even though you had some chub around your hips and thighs, but he didn't mind that. in fact, it seemed to turn him on more. he saw every aspect of you as a goddess in his mind, a person who could do absolutely no wrong. he was so in love with you, and he was very happy that he was able to get his virginity taken by someone like you.

once the towel was off you threw it to the ground, crawling towards soobin and straddling his hips. you leaned down and started to softly kiss his neck, causing him to let out a shocked noise at the sudden feeling of your plump lips on his sensitive neck. quite frankly, everywhere on him was sensitive, despite how many sessions him and his right hand had late at night. maybe because it was you, he wasn't quite sure. he just wanted this feeling to continue.

you trailed your lips down to his covered chest, looking at him and basically asking with your eyes if you could take off his tank top. "can i?" which was followed by an immediate "yes mommy," which had you a little taken aback. once he realized what he had just said he sat up quick, knocking you back a little and forcing your ass straight onto his clothes cock. he bit back a groan as small tears gathered in his eyes, covering his face and hiding it with his large ass hands.

" 'm sorry y/n— i-i didn't mean to say that it just— it just slipped out," he was basically pleading with you not to leave, he wanted to lose his virginity to you, he wanted you to take him however you wanted him to. he was about to cry when you just chuckled and kissed his cheek, making him flush harder. "choi, it's okay. you don't have to be so scared to try things with me. if i don't like it, i'll tell you. if i do like it, then i'll also tell you. and i quite frankly love that name. you can keep calling me that if you're comfortable with it, because i sure am," you told him, making him nod his head and softly smile at you. "okay... mommy."

now that that was out of the way, you went to go remove his top and he let you, holding his arms up and the top coming straight off. he then decided to slip off his shorts and boxers, leaving you both completely naked under each other's gaze. he was so beautiful, sleeper-ish build with silky smooth skin that you wanted to ruin. he was so perfect... god he would be the perfect man.

your lips connected again and this time soobin immediately melted into it, relaxing himself as you went back to straddle his lap. your ass was right on his cock, softly rubbing against just to see how his face scrunched up with pleasure in the kiss, swallowing up all his sounds. he loved this, this was everything he could've ever dreamed of. he was about the fuck the girl of his dreams, the reality hitting him like a pleasant surprise. he couldn't hold back the dripping of pre-cum that was all over your ass by now, making him even more embarrassed than he was before. however, you thought it was hot, and you wanted him to cum deep inside you.

this time, he was the one to pull away, panting softly as he looked at you with those bright eyes of his. "please... m-mommy just— just use me, i need it so bad," he begged you with such a whiny voice, god it had you throbbing so hard. you both were needy for each other and it showed with every action you two made towards each other. so, you didn't keep him waiting for long.

"of course baby," you cooed, biting your lip before starting to get yourself situated. you put your hands on his shoulders and stood up on your knees, guiding yourself to be right above his aching cock. he gulped as you started to sink down on his ridiculously big cock. seriously, how in the hell did he keep such a monster like this in his pants? you struggled a little as you tried to sink down, realizing that you would need soobin's help in order to fully go down.

though, when you looked to ask him for help the man was so far good, eyes in a daze and mouth open and panting heavily. he looked hot as shit but you needed his assistance in trying to get yourself fully around his cock, so you put a hand on his cheek even with your trembling hand. "binnie... c—can you please help me? you're... way too big—" you strained out, feeling the pain starting to kick in despite your wetness. this man was fucking huge and he didn't even know it, but he would help you at any means necessary.

so, he grabbed your hips and, with a little jerk of his arms, slammed you right onto his cock. this motion caused you and him to both moan out in pleasure, you arching your back and soobin's eyes rolling to the back of his head. after you both came down you started to slowly move your hips, your wetness covering his area so sloppily it was exactly like a porn video. he was mesmerized by your body and how fluidly you could move, he was in a trance by your hips. so much so that he involuntarily thrusted his hips upwards, causing you to moan out in pleasure but causing him to quickly stop your hips, confusing you.

"w— what's wrong bin?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady but you were already close to your orgasm. "that didn't hurt? what i just did?" he asked, which just made you softly giggle. "no soobin, it didn't hurt at all. please do it again," you pleaded, making something in the man switch by your begging.

he grabbed you and slammed you onto the bed, pulling your hips forward and ramming deep inside you. meanwhile he had no clue what the hell he was doing, he was just trying to follow what porn had taught him. although, he could tell that you were enjoying it by the way your noises increased in volume, how more fidgety you were because of the immense amount of pleasure he was giving you. so, he continued with his unorganized pace, still moaning alongside you as he did so.

"b-bin— fuck baby 'm's'close—" you whined, making him speed up a little as well. "f-fuck... me too mommy, m-me too—" he whimpered alongside you, you pulling him down for a steamy wet kiss. this instantly had the man's hips stuttering, shoving himself as deep as he could right into your g-spot, his cum flowing against it which had you clenching around him as well. your noises were equally swallowed by each other, this being the most intense orgasm both of you have had in your lives.

after a few minutes you both came down from your highs, you looking at the man above you who was a wreck. his glasses were basically off of his face now, lips red and swollen from your kissing, pupils blown and dazed with a red face to top it all off. he was so sexy, but he was on the verge of passing out. so were you, since that orgasm took a lot out of you. so, you both decided it would be nice to just lay next to each other, but not before deciding something.

"u-uhm... y/n?" choi chirped, making you turn your head in his direction. "hm?" "what... are we now?" he sheepishly pondered, you reaching a hand out and massaging his face. "boyfriend and girlfriend silly," you smiled softly, while he grinned brightly. "really?" "mhm. now goodnight baby, see you in the morning." your drowsy voice stated before he held you in his arms, you easily falling asleep. however, he couldn't sleep, because his mind was racing with so many things that sleep didn't come until the early morning.

which wasn't a problem, since you both slept until 1pm that day.

#txt smut #txt x reader #kpop smut #tomorrow together #soobin x reader #txt soobin #soobin smut #soobin #tomorrow x together #loser soobin #soobin x female reader #loser soobin smut #choi soobin #choi soobin x reader #choi soobin smut #lovdlydaz

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k0juki · 8 months ago

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mafia!Mick Schumacher

Mick Schumacher x fem!reader

Gn is alright too!

Summary: Just few moments with Mafia!Mick Schumacher x fem!reader.

Warnings: sunburn, sassy reader, mentions of blood and dead body, fluff and teasing I guess? Not much of Mafia at all 💀

!english is not my first language so feel free to point out any mistakes or errors!

Also picture is not mine! Credit goes to owner!

Fem!reader would be working for him as his personal assistant. Fully knowing what he does for a living and her being alright with it because she gets paid well. She would be his right hand that always reminds him when he has an important meeting, bringing him drinks like tea or coffee when he doesn't go to sleep or when he's feeling cocky, he would tell her to choose the shirt she likes on him to just mess with her because he likes to see her face all red. You not wanting to look at him, feeling overwhelmed.

Mick would start to remove his black t-shirt and be like "Which one do you like more on me liebling?" All cocky with that pet name in German knowing it works on her. "The white button down shirt you ass." She would say not being scared at all, knowing that he would never hurt her for anything she says. Mick would just chuckle, throwing a smirk her way as she's leaving him to change his clothes. Feeling butterflies in stomach.

---

He would fall first, she would fall harder.

Fem!reader would be secretly loving Mick but being an ass to him because she's scared that if she opens to him, he would leave her, so it's better if she hurts him by saying all the mean things and acting like she doesn't care instead of her getting hurt, but it still be hurting her feelings.

But Mick knowing better, he would be so caring towards her, never forgetting her birthday and buying her a little cupcake with candle on it with colorful flowers that she loves, letting her borrow his jacket when it gets cold, giving anyone death stare the moment someone says anything disrespectful to her or just making her feel uncomfortable, always having an spare hair bands somewhere in his pocket or on his hand, like it's middle of the July and she was rushing to his office because for the first time she overslept in few years.

Coming to his office apologizing that she came later than usual, she would sit behind her desk that is opposite of his. Being all sweaty from the weather and forgetting her ice coffee on her way there she didn't have much luck.

Sanding from his desk and going right behind her, he would found one of the hair bands, taking strands of hair and began to make her a ponytail, "I can do it myself" she said as he gently, so as not to hurt her, he would run his hand through her soft hair that she washed before she went to bed last night.

"I know you can, but let me, '' Mick said as he adjusted the rubber band on her head, kissing the top of her head as she tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear that didn't want to stay in place. "Thank you Mick, you didn't have to " she said feeling all shy "You're welcome love."

---

Mick is definitely a pet name king. Teasing you at any given moment. Not having peace even at your home when you came from the bathroom freshly shower, you hear your phone buzz and saw Mick's photo on your screen, so you pick it up thinking none of it and he would just start blabbing some nonsense to annoy you. "You know liebling, I really enjoy the mean facade you're trying to make." He said chuckling and anyone who would hear Mick right now, wouldn't say that he belongs to the mafia at all.

"You're seriously like a man-child" you said, now all annoyed. "Don't you want to go for coffee sometime?" huh? You thought "Bye Mick, call me when you need something important." Hanging up, you have to slow your breathing as you hold your phone closer to your chest now all frustrated.

---

I think fem!reader wouldn't take him seriously at first. Just a pure assistant that does her job the best she can. Yes, time to time seeing a dead body, blood and everything like that, but she doesn't care enough for that. Sometimes she thinks he just wants to use her and then leave her. So she would be distant with him as much as possible those days.

He wouldn't like that. He can't be nothing but gentlemen around her. So he's always opening/holding doors for you. "After you liebling.”

And definitely would say some shit like "You're playing hard to get" whereupon you answered him "you're playing hard to get rid of". Both of you not meaning anything like that.

---

Fem!reader would always deny him from buying her expensive things, but him being Mick Schumacher will always buy you anything and I mean anything you want. He would take you on his yacht when he takes something like a holiday or 3 weeks off and said that you have it as free time. With him.

There would be so much pda. A lot of it. Mick will definitely sit next to you and will lay his hand on your thigh when you are eating breakfast/dinner or any other food. "Is it good?" Mick asked as he looked at you, your mouth full of fruits. "It's delicious," you said, smiling at him.

---

Fem!reader forgetting to put sunscreen and getting sunburn. "What did I tell you, hm?" Mick said with a bit of a disappointed tone in his voice. "Come here liebling, you need to hydrate it." He said now softly, knowing that it must hurts you.

Lots of small touches that make goosebumps on your skin, when he puts his hand on your lower back and starts rubbing small circles there as you put your head on his shoulder, now finally being comfortable. Your eyes are heavy as you feel him kiss the top of your head.

—

Do not copy or translate my works!

It was supposed to be Kimi but somehow it ended up being Mick so... maybe Kimi is gonna be next?

🫠🩷

#f1 #f1 x reader #x reader #k0juki's stuff 🩷#Mick #mick schumacher #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher x you #max verstappen x reader #carlos sainz #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #kimi #kimi raikkonen #ms47 #formula 1

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haechwrites · 2 years ago

Text

sugar, butter, & the royal crown - L.DH

prince!lee donghyuck x baker fem!OC (no name!)

synopsis: prince donghyuck only has one princess on his mind, but she's not actually a princess. she's just the royal baker's granddaughter.

wc: ~17.1k

warnings: pet names used only so i don't have to namedrop lol. no other warnings tho!

A/N: this is my second longest fic i've actually finished hehe i'm really happy with this one and now i wish i had a prince haechan lol

-- some things to note first:

THIS FIC IS WRITTEN IN FIRST PERSON. if you see ♔, that means it's in haechan's pov written in third person!

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

As a child, life is all about the simple pleasures. It didn’t matter that I’d come home to a dark house carrying the faint snores of my mother. I was still reeling from the sweet taste of mangoes on my tongue, the slight dusting of sugar in my hair, and the lingering soreness from laughing in my cheeks. I’d quickly wash up, give my mom a quick peck on the forehead, and tuck myself in bed. Before I know it, the sun greets me again and I meet my grandma outside as she leads me to the palace. This was my routine and for my young brain, there was nothing ever wrong with it.

My grandma is the head baker at the palace. Since the separation of my parents, I have spent my days with my grandma at work. It was all I knew and I was content with it. Every sunrise, I’d have 30 minutes before I had to meet her outside. Together, we’d walk to the palace’s servant entrance and my grandma would give our favorite guard, Doyun, a warm smile and a promise to slip an extra pastry in his meal for letting me tag along. I’d walk past him with a finger to my lips asking him to be sworn to secrecy. He’d always return it with a wink and a small laugh. It was our little promise, though I’m sure no one would actually mind an extra guest on the grounds – especially a mere 7-year-old.

Once inside the kitchen, I strap on the apron that the palace’s tailor secretly made specifically for me. Grandma told me that the busiest times in the kitchen were the mornings, so I always sit in the corner to let her start the day. I occupy myself for at least an hour before my friend comes to play with me. His entrance is always the same: a secret knock on the side door and a gleaming smile when I open it for him.

Today he’s dressed up in a super fancy garment, almost like a uniform. I had never seen him in anything other than his casual button-up and pants, typically covered by an extra adult-sized apron we’d find laying around.

“Donghyuck! What are you wearing?”

“Princess!,” He’d squeal, pulling me into a tight hug. “It’s my special outfit.”

“Is it your birthday?” My nose scrunches in confusion, looking him up and down. Even if it was his birthday, I can’t imagine his servant parents could afford such expensive fabric.

Donghyuck laughs before yanking a spare apron off its hook and pulling it over his head.

“Nooo. I have something important to do today. That’s why I’m wearing this,” He explains, looking a little nervous.

“Oh wow. You look like the King. Or like a prince,” I say jokingly, but Donghyuck freezes. His eyes are wide like the time he accidentally ate the last mango tart I was saving.

Then he breaks out into an awkward laugh and smiles wide at me, “I am a prince… because you’re my princess.” He says with utmost confidence, before grabbing my hands. We’re standing the way I position my two play dolls during a pretend wedding ceremony.

I quickly turn the shade of freshly baked cherry pies and I tear my hands out of his hold.

“Donghyuck-ah! How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that?” I huff, crossing my arms.

He snickers, “Hmmm… maybe one hundred more times.”

“One hundred more times?!”

“Yes, if you can even count that high,” he smirks, instantly easing the tension from earlier. He plops down onto my stool and looks up at me. “So what are we playing today? Or should we read? Or does Baker Grandma need help?”

I aimlessly kick the leg of the stool, thinking about what we could do today as I can see him anxiously bounce around in his seat. He looks like he’s running on limited time today. Sometimes Donghyuck disappears on me in the middle of our hangouts or doesn’t show up at all. I just assume his parents need help with their tasks just like how Grandma often calls me to help her bake. He’s never told me where in the palace they work despite the years we’ve been hanging out.

“What if we help your parents today?” The minute the question leaves my lips, I hear a snort from the kitchen staff and Donghyuck goes into a coughing fit as if the flour seeped into his lungs.

I begin to feel myself turn red again and wondering what was so wrong till I feel a familiar warm hand on my shoulder.

“Ah Donghyuck, you’re here today?” My grandma looks at his attire with a suspicious gaze. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” Her hands are on her hips and it feels similar to the times she’s caught me using the oven on my own.

Donghyuck starts shyly giggling while fiddling with the oversized apron my grandma is reaching to remove. I stand there in confusion as he looks like a puppy that was told he wasn’t allowed to play or have a treat. I want to help him but the look on grandma’s face is too scary to fight.

She’s slowly ushering him out the door and I’m holding his apron in my hands, watching him pout.

“Bye Hyuck,” I mutter, sad that our day was cut short before it even began. This was the quickest that one has ended.

“Byeee Princess,” He says with as much despair in his voice. He always has to be a little more dramatic than me. I giggle and wave him goodbye, spirits lifted by his antics. I see a smile grow on his face at the sound of my laugh before my grandma closes the door.

My loneliness returns as I stare at the wooden panels of the side door.

“Did he have to go?” I ask, slumping back onto the stool he was just on.

My grandma turns to me with a quizzical look. I can’t tell if she’s angry, sad, or disappointed and then she’s crouched down in front of me. Her flour-coated hands are resting on my lap.

“Donghyuck got called by his parents. They’re very important people,” She starts slowly. Grandma has never talked about Donghyuck’s family or personal life before. It was never brought up in the past because I assumed he was just like me. Now that we’re finally beginning to talk about it, the hesitant look on her face makes me not want to know anymore.

“Guards?,” I ask. To me, Doyun is the most important worker in the castle as he freely lets me in and out. Maybe guards earn enough to adorn such fancy clothes I saw Donghyuck wear.

“No, honey,” She glances back at her staff, and I notice they’ve been watching. They give me a reassuring smile, but there’s uneasiness quivering on their lips.

“Donghyuck… Donghyuck is the Prince.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♔

They found him. Donghyuck’s personal guards find him where they usually do when he escapes his tasks, and that would be at the palace kitchen. This time, they find him outside the door, rather than inside scarfing down mango tarts.

Without any hesitation and with no room for him to trick them and run, they grab the tiny prince and bring him to the meeting he was meant to attend with the King. It was meant to be the first glimpse of his life as a future ruler, attending meetings with fellow diplomats and other boring princely things. Donghyuck does not understand why he can’t spend his day playing like a regular 7-year-old with his pretty friend from the kitchen.

Despite having complained and whined his way out of most duties, Donghyuck had reached the level of maturity to know that this one he couldn’t fight. I mean, the tailor adjusted his royal attire just for this one-hour meeting. After having come to terms with sitting in boredom for an hour, Donghyuck did not expect to be dragged into more as he was about to skip his way over to the kitchen once the diplomats left.

“And where are you off to now, Donghyuck?”

He freezes in his tracks and a shiver ripples down his spine at the sound of her voice. He’s been caught again.

He spins around, plastering the biggest smile possible on his face. “Nowhere, Mother. Just strolling around until my tutoring session.” He hopes she doesn’t recognize this path to the kitchen.

“And is your tutoring session located in the kitchen today?” She asks, words dripping with a patronizing attitude. Nothing Donghyuck isn’t used to.

“Oh! I wanted to see if I could get a quick snack before. My brain needs food, right?” He hides his crossed fingers behind his back, praying she doesn’t call his bluff.

“And you’re not just going there to see that girl, are you?” She takes a step closer and Donghyuck is scared she can see the drip of sweat beginning to trickle down his forehead. How did she know about Princess? He wonders if his guard ratted him out… even after Donghyuck gave him half of his tart. The betrayal, he scoffs.

“There’s no girl, Mother.” Donghyuck decides it's best to deny it and stare straight at his feet.

“You are correct, there will never be a girl. Instead, there will be a future queen. A princess for now and you need to begin meeting our potential suitresses,” The queen firmly states, grabbing his shoulders to steer him towards the library. Before he could stop himself, his chest bubbles with heat, and his brain is fogged with confusion. He can’t imagine anyone by his side but her.

“Why can’t she be my princess?”

The words spill out from his royal lips before he could catch them. There’s no missing the instant look of rage and disgust on the Queen’s face when her son’s true desires are revealed. Desires of the heart, but a complete disgrace to his duties as the Prince. Her eyes grow colder and her skin pales till her blush is the brightest hue on her cheeks.

Donghyuck feels his throat go dry and the crossed fingers behind his back unlock. No luck can help him now.

“No more kitchen visits, Prince Donghyuck.”

The queen’s words are final. His shoulders slump lower and his feet are heavy as he drags them across the cobblestone trailing toward the library. It feels like there was a wall that slammed into the ground behind him, forbidding him from seeing her again.

“Yes, ma’am. No more.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

^ FIFTEEN YEARS LATER ^

The only memory of my childhood that lingered was the heat of the oven. Like I did every day at the age of 7, I continued to bake to keep that fire alive. There were days where the warmth was cooler than normal and my urge to bake waivered. Days like when my grandma stopped showing up outside my house every day a half hour after sunrise. Days like when my mother decided I was too much to raise when I stopped spending my time at the palace. And days like the one when I moved out of the city to live with my dad.

However, there were also days where the flame was ablaze. Days like when I got my own personal baking set. Days like when I got accepted into a baking school. And days like today, where I return to the city that pushed me out fifteen years ago to open a bakery. Despite the dismal circumstances of the day I left, I always felt the urge to return. It never felt right that I moved in the first place. Confusion still envelops my mind when I think about how my grandma stopped taking me to the palace for unsaid reasons and how my mother was incapable of taking care of me due to it. There had to be something more going on.

Outside of this mystery of my childhood, my main goal was to return with my own bakery specializing in my soon-to-be infamous mango tarts. I had visited the city for the first time since my move before to scope out bakery locations. But today was the day that I officially move in, to both my home and bakery, and kickstart my business. My first task was to put up a sign displaying the bakery’s name.

“Oh my goodness… so it is true!”

Warmth blooms in my chest; I would recognize that voice anywhere. I flip around and I’m greeted with her same sugary sweet smile. My grandma looks just as she did before but her hair is dusted white like the flour she worked with. But she still smelled like spiced apple pie, my eyes watered in disbelief.

“Grandma!” I ran into her open arms and I could feel her chuckle.

“Oh honey, it’s been much too long. Look at you now… a beautiful woman before my eyes,” She’s smiling widely and I can see her eyes take in my features. Fifteen years worth of change and growth.

“I’m sorry we haven’t been in contact much. I could barely find the time to tell you I was coming back.”

“It’s alright. All that matters is you’re here,” Grandma rubs my arms reassuringly. “And are you here alone? Or have you moved back with a lover?” The childish gleam on her face makes me giggle and I quickly correct her that I’m single and focusing on my baking.

“Ah, I see. In that case, you must have more time than I anticipated. You must come with me to work one of these days. Just like old times. Consider it research for your bakery.” The way she sways with excitement makes it hard for me to turn it down, and I can’t deny the flutter in my heart at the idea of stepping foot onto the palace grounds again. It was where it all started for me. I agreed with a smile.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

After a week of prepping the bakery, I decided to visit my grandma. To be completely honest, outside of the work I had to do, my nerves did play a role in keeping me from going earlier. But now that I’ve decided I’ve run out of excuses, I’m walking to the servant entrance of the palace a little before noon to give my grandmother the morning to solely focus on work. It makes me smile knowing I still remember the schedule of the palace kitchen.

The streets surrounding the castle are quiet at this hour. I can still remember the hustle and commotion of the staff in the early morning, lining up to get inside to start their days. It was never daunting to be a young girl surrounded by a diverse array of people. It was thrilling and almost comforting and it was much better than staying home alone.

When I reach the gates, I feel like I’ve traveled back in time because blocking my path is a young guard who looks eerily like Doyun, the guard I knew from before.

“How can I help you, miss?”

“Hi.” I’m inspecting his face. He has the same colored hair, but it’s parted differently. He has the same warm light brown eyes and his face is a little softer than Doyun’s. My mind can’t help but ask, “I’m sorry if this is a strange question but do you know Guard Doyun?”

His stiff demeanor drops like a curtain and the young guard’s eyes light up, “I’m his son, Yunseo! How do you know my father?” Suddenly I don’t see a guard in uniform, but instead a bright, inviting individual in his place.

“No wonder! I’m the granddaughter of the head baker. I used to greet your father every morning when I was a child.”

“Oh yes! Yes, she told me you were coming. You can go right along in, just make sure she knows to sneak me an extra sweet treat.” He opens the gates for me.

“Ah like father, like son,” I giggle, slightly bowing to him as I enter.

“Do you remember how to get to the kitchen?”

I stare at the familiar worn cobblestone paths and nod, “I think so.”

The walk to the kitchen is shorter than I remember but the smell wafting from the windows is all the same. I reach the side door and I’m about to knock when I notice it’s creaked slightly open. I hear a voice above all the kitchen noise.

“Gran, please sneak something in my food today so I can get sick and stay in bed for the whole week. I do not want to court these women.” I peek my head in further to take a look at the man speaking. I let out a soft gasp when my eyes land on him.

Outside of his stunning beauty, he looks familiar. His tufts of chestnut brown hair are slightly waved as they curl around the nape of his neck. He often shakes his head to get the bangs out of his face, exposing his tan skin. If I look close enough, he has distinguishable moles on the plush curves of his cheeks. His rosy lips are wrapped around a piece of pastry and even when he’s talking with his mouth full, he’s still attractive. My eyes instantly widen when I notice his outfit: the royal attire.

A squeal escapes my mouth and before I could hide, the door is swung open by my grandma.

“You’re here!”

At the announcement of my arrival, the young man is dusting the crumbs off his hands, and looks like he’s about to make a quick escape.

“Hi Grandma,” I give her a hug, not minding the flour sticking to my sweater. “I was just about to knock.” I let out a small laugh to hide the fact that I was definitely eavesdropping not moments ago.

“Grandma?” I hear the man say behind her. He decided to stay after realizing it wasn’t one of his guards coming to get him, but instead a pretty woman. An oddly, familiar, pretty woman.

My grandma bites her lip to keep from smiling any bigger and she grabs my arm to present me to the man.

“Oh my. I forgot you guys know each other! It’s Donghyuck, do you remember, honey? You used to play with him every day as I worked.” The glint in her eyes is something more than just happy nostalgia and I give her a look.

“Pri-... Princess?” When the old nickname leaves his lips, I gasp and feel my cheeks bloom pink. The layers of the handsome man in front of me started to peel and I could see the little boy I spent my early life with. Most of my warmest days were spent with him. But I’m also brought back to one of the colder days of my childhood. The day I found out my childhood best friend was the Prince.

At first, I didn’t understand why my grandma was so fearful of telling me who he really was. I was ecstatic to hear that Donghyuck was royalty. I was fascinated and curious to see what his life was like and how it compared to being the granddaughter of a palace worker. I soon learned that what I wanted to discover was not so glamorous. Because apparently, his life excluded me. I didn’t piece that together until a few years after my move. Why else did Donghyuck stop showing up and why else was I forbade from going to the palace with my grandma? When I came to the realization, I began to resent him and eventually, completely forgot about him.

“Prince Donghyuck,” I bowed, trying not to show any expression. He had his arm slightly raised like he was about to reach for me but his body stiffened at my curtness. My grandma even looks at me with confusion. “It’s… It’s nice to see you again.”

“Oh, there’s no need to be so polite. You guys were friends!” My grandma squeezes my arms, urging me to get closer. I stay in my place.

“He’s the Prince, Grandma,” I whisper through my teeth and I can tell he hears me by the dejected look on his face. I can’t get myself to look him in the eyes.

“It’s quite alright. I actually have to get going. Prin-... Sorry, It was lovely to see you,” The Prince ducks his head and leaves the way I came in. He looks back at my figure once more, thoughts churning, before he disappears.

My feet remain still and I’m staring at the place he stood. Staring at the pastry he bit into. He’s real and he’s back. And the door he walked through was the same one he used to leave me 15 years ago. The alarms rang in my brain and I quickly shook my head, grabbing a bowl and mixing whatever contents are in it. The faster I stirred, the more I begged my mind to stop thinking about Donghyuck.

“You’re overwhipping the cream.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♔

On every page he turned to, the words blurred and all Donghyuck could see was her. She was more beautiful than he remembered. She’s much taller now, and he naturally smiles remembering when she used to argue that he was only taller than her by a centimeter. Her hair was also longer and not bound in her classic two braids. Though he didn’t get to see her smile, he was sure that it’s brighter than before. After all, everything about her seemed to have grown more beautiful than before. Donghyuck wonders if he should be calling her “Queen” now with how wonderfully she’s aged.

A delicate tap on his shoulder forces Donghyuck out of his lovestruck haze. “Prince Donghyuck, are you enjoying your book?”

He remembers that he’s in the library with one of his potential suitresses. He turns to her and almost wants to laugh. For the years that his childhood friend has been gone, it was the memory of her that invaded his mind whenever he was forced to go on these dates. But now that Donghyuck has seen her again in the flesh, he realizes how doomed he is and how these other princesses definitely don’t stand a chance.

During the fifteen years apart, Donghyuck’s gloom exacerbated the Queen’s determination to find him a future queen. Out of all his regular royal responsibilities, his courtships took the most time. He excels in all areas of his duties, but the one he can’t manage to succeed in is getting a wife. From playdates to formal dates, Donghyuck aged and remained single. And both he and the head baker knew why.

Despite the Queen’s warnings to never enter the kitchen, Donghyuck found himself there every week whether it was to steal extra mango tarts or ask about the baker’s granddaughter. It was usually after failed dates when he’d trudge into the kitchen, completely drained of energy, and beg the baker to talk to him about his first love. Questions about where she is, how she’s doing, and whether she thinks of him spill from his mouth, and the baker would entertain him every time. Even if he only knew and could only remember the child version of her, Donghyuck still managed to compare her to every suitress he met. None of them stood a chance against his princess. And though with time he could recognize how silly this infatuation had gotten, he grew fatigued of courtship and this was the easiest way to go about it. The grandmother was wary of this long overrun connection as well, but at the same time commended him for his commitment to her granddaughter. She also didn’t have the heart to tell him to move on.

And now Donghyuck’s here, on another date and he actually has an image, a real person, to be thinking of.

“I’m sorry. I don’t think this is going to work out.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“So you are hiding from me?”

“Oh Jesus Christ,” I drop the bowl of frosting at my feet and scramble to pick it up. A pair of far too expensive shoes enter my vision. I shoot up and my heart races, knowing exactly who it is.

“My prince,” I bow, meeting the ground once more. I stand upright and give him a passing smile.

“I like hearing you say that,” The Prince smirks. He swiftly scoops a finger of frosting before popping it in his mouth.

“Formalities,” I respond and I move the bowl out of his reach.

He chuckles and he starts to fiddle with an apron left on the counter.

“So you’ve been visiting at nighttime. Are you actually avoiding me?” He looks at me like he’s challenging me to say no.

Yes. “No, I just prefer the kitchen at night.” I clutch the frosting bowl tighter and focus my attention on what’s salvageable.

“You mean my kitchen… which you’ve been sneaking into with the help of my guard.” I can feel that he’s moved closer and I wince.

“Yes… I’m sorry. My grandma said it’d be okay and my kitchen at the bakery isn’t finished being built. If you’d like me to stop coming, I can.” I start to untie my apron and his hand catches my wrist.

“No,” He blurts out. “There’s no need. Feel free to use the kitchen.” The Prince raises his hands in the air as if to give me permission. I politely nod and go back to fixing my frosting, ignoring the tingling I feel on my wrist.

He doesn’t make a move to leave. Instead, he puts on the apron from the counter and leans in to watch.

“Um, what are you doing?” The Prince is tapping the table and humming as he stares at me.

“Hanging out,” He says matter-of-factly.

“I see,” And that’s all that I can say because who am I to kick the Prince out of his own kitchen? So I just mix and continue doing my thing.

“Just like the old days. You do remember, right?” I make the mistake of looking up and meeting his eyes. He’s looking at me like his question meant more than just a test of my memory.

“Vaguely… It was a long, long time ago.” A time I don’t wish to relive.

There’s a short pause before The Prince replies.

“Well, I remember. I think I’ll always remember. You were my best friend… And those were probably the best days of my life.” He doesn’t look at me when he says this. In fact, he looks nervous to be admitting it in the first place.

All I can do is nod, not knowing what to say to his confession. Especially when the feeling I get when I look back on those times is not as positive.

“Anyway… I’m planning on recreating those times.” Without thinking, I meet his eyes and he’s smiling hopefully. “So don’t try to hide from me next time. I’ll be here whenever you are. Think of it as your payment for using the kitchen.”

The uneasiness and warmth in my stomach are hard to decipher. The thought of spending more time with him is thrilling and terrifying at the same time. I try to ease my nerves by mixing even harder and he notices before laughing.

With my unspoken agreement, we spend the rest of the night in silence, just in each other’s presence. Every now and then he steals a bite of my makings and tries to lighten the air with a poorly made joke. And I don’t hold my laughter back.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“And then, once the frosting is on, you can add the strawberries.” I demonstrate by putting the nicely sliced strawberries on in a thin layer.

“When are you going to teach me how to make the mango tart?” The Prince pouts and bites the strawberries instead of putting them on the cake. I scowl and move the bowl away from him.

“When are you going to stop eating my ingredients?”

He smirks and taps the counter, “When are you going to stop using my kitchen?” He tilts his head to the side to goad me.

I roll my lips into my mouth and stuff another strawberry in his face when he laughs.

“Eat up,” I say sickeningly sweet.

Completely out of my control, my hangouts with Prince Donghyuck have returned. However, this time, I know he’s the prince and instead of every day in the morning, it’s 2 to 3 times a week at night. My excuse is that my kitchen in the bakery isn’t done being built, but to be completely honest, I could have it done by the end of the week. Maybe it’s because I enjoy my time with the Prince or maybe it’s because I actually do want the extra amenities I asked to be installed last minute… who knows? The end conclusion is that I find myself in the palace’s kitchen more often than I intended, and I find myself enjoying the Prince’s company more than I intended.

“Okay, your highness. Do you think you can stack these layers evenly?”

He gives me a playful salute, mouth full of cream, as he hops off the kitchen counter. He stands by my side and takes the cake from my hands.

“You know… as much as I like hearing you call me ‘your highness,’ why don’t you ever call me by my name anymore?”

“Because now I know you’re the Prince.” And I don’t know how it feels to have your name roll off my tongue as it did before, I think to myself.

The Prince lets out a low whistle. “Do you see me differently?” He trains his eyes to the level of the cake to get it precisely right. I watch him from above.

“It’s been fifteen years… so yes, I do see you differently.” I move to mix more frosting to coat the cake with.

“Okay,” He nods, thinking about my response. “So me being the Prince isn’t part of it?” He glances at me quickly with what I can assume is worry before he goes to add another layer of cake.

“Mmm… It is. Not a big part, but definitely a part. I think it’s mainly because you’ve grown up, We’ve both grown up. Maybe me more than you,” I tease. He sticks his tongue out at me and I make a face back. ��Example number one.”

He finishes putting on the last layer and stands up straight to admire his work.

“What makes me different than before?” He takes the frosting bowl from my hands and begins icing the cake like I’ve taught him a couple of days ago. I take this as a break and I lift myself up to sit on the counter, dangling my feet.

“You’re taller than me, for one,” he gasps in fake shock and I hit him on the shoulder.

“You’re dressed nicer.”

“That’s not a compliment for me, that’s a compliment for my stylist,” He corrects me.

“True, okay. You’re smarter than before, I can see you’re not skipping your tutoring sessions. And… you’re not as cute.”

At that, he perks up, frosting is long forgotten. “What do you mean I’m not as cute?” And with the face he’s making, I almost take back my words.

“Well, your highness, you were a boy before. Of course, you’re not cute now. You’re a man.” I roll my eyes as if that were the most obvious thing.

“If I’m not cute, then what am I?” He squints at me and I can tell I’ve fallen into a trap.

“You’re… You’re handsome. Now,” I mutter out. I quickly clear my throat and point to a bald spot on the cake. “Hey, you missed a spot.”

Without even looking at him, I know he’s smiling. “You think I’m handsome.”

“Alright,” I drag out the word. “You’re the Prince. Aren’t you supposed to be handsome so you can woo and marry a pretty princess?”

“Not exactly. Being ridiculously handsome isn’t a royal requirement.”

I let out a scoff, “When did I say ‘ridiculously handsome’?”

“You didn’t have to, I see it on your face.” He taps my cheek and I suddenly notice how close our faces have gotten. Before I know it, my face is blooming pink again and I can feel the warmth shoot from my head to the rest of my body. I launch myself back and adjust my apron. And he stares at me like he’s won.

“Okay, your turn. What’s different about me?” I look around the kitchen to get my heart to settle down. What is happening?

The Prince doesn’t hesitate. “Well, you’re just as beautiful as you were before. Maybe even more.”

I gasp at his words and look him in the eyes. There’s no hint of his typical teasing attitude; he looks completely genuine. My mind goes blank and my ability to respond is rendered useless. He seems to notice that so he brushes off his comment quickly, thinking he’s overstepped.

“Anyways, since we’ve discovered that the only thing that makes me different from before is that I’m exceptionally more handsome-”

“Didn’t say that.”

“-Then why don’t you just call me ‘Donghyuck.’ Like you did before.”

Maybe it’s because he called me beautiful. Maybe it’s because I like the idea of exclusively calling him ‘Donghyuck.’ Or maybe I’m excited to eat the cake we just made, but my heart is fluttering quicker than it ever has.

“Okay. Donghyuck.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“FIRE! DONGHYUCK! FIRE, FIRE!”

“OH SHIT!”

Watching the medium sized fire bursting from the top of the pot, I run to the fire extinguisher. I’m scrambling to grab it, swift to squeeze the white dust all over the burning stove, despite the dough covering my hands. I hear Donghyuck’s screams in the back and he’s grabbing my shoulders to hide. Once I see the last flame get coated, I drop the extinguisher on the ground, exhausted.

I feel his hands digging into my shoulder blades and I grab him by the jacket, turning him to face me. Knowing how to cover his ass, he smiles in shame, rubbing my arm.

“I swear I was watching the stove,” He whips out his baby voice and try my best not to smack the side of his head. He’s the Prince. He’s the Prince. He’s the Prince, I repeat to myself.

“Your looks distracted me.” I slap him anyways.

He groans in pain, even though I could’ve slapped harder and I cross my arms to look as threatening as possible.

“You burnt the caramel,” I whine, staring at the black tar in my brand new pot. “And my pot!”

He immediately attacks me with a hug, shaking me around, mumbling apologies. “I’ll buy you a new one, I promise! I’ll buy you three! Four? Seven!”

“Make it eight,” I huff, tearing his arms off me, only to weirdly miss them.

He gasps, hands against his head in shock. “You definitely dressed prettier today just so I could set your pot on fire and buy you twenty more… You’re evil,” He looks at me like I’ve masterminded the biggest robbery of the century.

I narrow my eyes at him, lifting my hand to smack him again. “And you’re on timeout. No more baking today.” I start putting away the dishes I had ready.

“Hey! Who’s older here?” Donghyuck begins helping me sort the supplies into the pantry.

“I’m pretty sure I am,” I say, trying to remember if we told each other our birthdays back then.

“When were you born?”

“May.”

“Shit,” He mutters. He tosses the burnt pot into the trashcan, wincing at the char. “Okay, let’s keep the ball rolling. What’s your favorite color?”

I laugh, “Really? Also should I save this dough for tomorrow when we try again?” I hold it up to show him and inspects it.

“Yeah, why not? Just wear a trashbag or something tomorrow.” I kick him in the foot and he chuckles. “But yes, really. What’s your favorite color? I like red.”

“Purple,” I play along while saran wrapping the dough. “Favorite food?”

“Kimchi jjigae,” he spits out, with no hesitation. I nod along, remembering all the times he’s requested it as a midnight snack while we bake. “What do you like to do besides baking?”

“I like to go on walks. When I moved out of the city and with my dad, we lived near the beach. It was nice to just walk on the shore only five minutes away from me. I miss it sometimes. I should probably visit soon.” I tap the bowl mindlessly, trying to figure out my schedule.

“You should take me,” Donghyuck says. He’s right next to me now. “I always wondered where you went after I stopped seeing you. I assumed you were still in the city, until your grandma told me you moved-moved.”

“Ohh, no, yeah. I moved. It was hard leaving everything I knew, but at the same time, I learned so much when I was there with my dad. Come with me next time, and we can hangout on the beach. Nothing should be too flammable there.” I tease, bumping his hip with mine. He laughs with me, but I can tell his mind is somewhere else. His eyebrows are furrowed, and he looks almost guilty.

“You know, when I found out you were the Prince, I wrote down a list of questions. I was so excited to see what your life is like.”

This grabbed his attention and my heart eased seeing his eyes light up a little more. The kitchen was relatively clean now, so I decided to prop myself up on the counter. Donghyuck always gets mad at the sudden height difference, but I can tell he loves it when he naturally wedges himself between my thighs like he does right now.

“Yeah? Do you remember any?” His hands were pinned on either side of my hips, forearms pressed against my outer thighs. It’s comfortable. I’m not sure when we got so comfortable. “This is kind of like ‘Princess and The Pauper.’”

I snort trying to remember my list. “I think I wanted to know how many crowns you had.”

“Classic question. I’m pretty sure I have three. My head’s kinda small, so it actually takes awhile for them to make it.”

I hum, investigating his head. “I can tell.”

“Mean.” He lightly pinches my thigh and I stop staring at his skull.

“I also wanted to know if you had any royal pets.”

“A cute, small, white dog. Yep.” He nods, like he’s impressed with himself for having such a basic dog and I have to laugh.

“Any cool cars?”

“Tons,” He brags. “Okay, what does ‘Adult You’ want to know?”

There’s always been a question I wanted to ask him since I started hanging out with him again. It nagged in the back of my mind as I watched him, always happy, always cheering everyone on. Despite his bright facial expressions and body language, I could tell it was tiring, it must be. I never imagined the royal life to be hard, or as hard as my own, until I met him again.

I look at his face, checking for any signs that I shouldn’t be asking him. But he looks at me with such softness and openness, that I don’t hesitate to ask.

“Are you happy? Like… do you like being the Prince?”

His eyes widened at my question and he looks down at my lap to think. He takes longer than I expect, and I assume no one has ever bothered to ask. His silence is telling.

“Hey…,” I reach for his face to lift his chin up. “It’s okay to say you’re not. You don’t have to be all the time.”

He flinches like this was a concept he couldn’t accept for himself. I grab his face a little tighter so he really hears me.

“As long as you’re at least looking for your happiness, that’s all that matters,” I stroke his cheek with my thumb. “You deserve all the happiness, Hyuck.”

I can see his mind slowly wrapping around my words as something in his face shifts. He looks hesitant for a different reason.

“And what if I find my happiness in you?” I gasp, instinctively letting go of his face slightly. He’s fast to bring his hand up to keep mine there. His fingers slot between my gaps. He looks desperate to keep me here.

Knowing my words hold immense weight, I still don’t stop myself from saying, “Then I’ll be that for you, in whatever way I can.”

Despite me being vague, Donghyuck takes all that he can. His face blooms into a smile and I return it, knowing it was cause of me. He holds my hand this time and brings it down to my lap, sighing happily.

“Thank you.”

And for a split second, I’m scared for what I’ve promised. After all, he’s the prince and I’m the pauper.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♔

Donghyuck is the happiest he has ever been. Unlike how it was when he was a kid, he’s attending his classes, his meetings, and even having lunches with the princesses the Queen sends over. However, he can’t promise that these dates are leading up to a potential marriage. He’s doing just enough so that his mother doesn’t get suspicious. Best of all, for most nights, he gets to sneak into the kitchen and talk, bake, and laugh for hours.

The secret hangouts are going amazingly. He can tell she’s warming up to him as she did back then or maybe it’s just the fire from the oven heating up the place. Last week, the kitchen at her new bakery finally finished being built and he knows this because he hired his staff to make sure the job was done well without telling her. That day he expected her to come in and tell him that she had to stop seeing him, but she still showed up like clockwork – two to three times a week.

Next week, her bakery is set to have its grand opening and Donghyuck hopes this isn’t what actually stops her from coming to see him. He’s even practiced his baking skills on his own and eaten less of the fruit while they’re together in hopes it doesn’t make her want to leave again. And so for the following week, Donghyuck is treading carefully.

“Do you need help with that, Princess?”

“Should I preheat the oven for you?”

“Here, let me tie your apron.”

“I’ll carry that for you.”

All of these mini acts of chivalry are met with a suspicious gaze and a light dusting of red on her cheeks. Donghyuck feels a sense of achievement whenever she accepts his help. And this all leads up to the night before her grand opening.

Donghyuck is lighting the last candle when the sound of keys unlocking the side kitchen door is heard. He quickly blows out the match before scurrying behind the table to greet her with a “Surprise!”

“Donghyuck! Don’t do that! God, I thought I was caught for sneaking in.”

He rolls his eyes at her lackluster reaction and reorients himself.

“I said… Surprise!” He dramatically waves his arms around to show all the work he put into decorating the kitchen. She finally notices her surroundings and her eyes light up. Donghyuck can feel his heart soften, compared to how it was racing earlier trying to set all of this up without his staff.

“What… what is all of this?” Her hands are covering her mouth in disbelief. There are streamers and fairy lights gracing the walls and candles are littered all around the room. Donghyuck is standing in the center with a single cupcake in his hands.

“Congrats. I heard from the grapevine that your bakery opens tomorrow.” She laughs at his theatrics and sets her bag down to look at the cupcake he’s made. In messy red font, the top of the treat reads the name of her bakery. She almost wants to tear up.

“Only one? Are we sharing?” She takes the cupcake from his hands and he tries not to think too hard about her fingers touching his.

“Well, I made that myself, and I personally don’t trust that I didn’t mess up the recipe in some way. So if anyone’s getting food poisoning tonight, it’d be you.” He taps her nose. “Eat up!”

At that, her jaw drops and she keeps the cupcake at a distance as if it’s some nuclear substance.

“Do you secretly want me dead?” She laughs.

“Hey, when it comes down to a royal and a baker. The baker’s going.” Donghyuck mimics his throat being slit and bites his lip to stop himself from smiling too hard. He loves to mess with her.

“You are the worst. Way to look out for your people, your highness.” She begins to unwrap the cupcake, taking a sniff out of precaution.

“‘Your Highness’? Aw, Princess, don’t be like that.” He moves closer to her and she shifts back, tutting.

“Nope. As a baker under your kingdom, I will gladly sacrifice myself by eating this cupcake. Alone.” She dramatically curtsies before going in for a hesitant bite.

Donghyuck swiftly beats her to it and takes a large bite out of the other end as her lips touch the cupcake. Her eyes widen in shock and he sends her a wink before brushing the crumbs off his mouth.

“Now you can’t tell me I don’t care about my people,” He says while chewing the weird texture of his creation. Donghyuck smirks at the deer-in-headlights reaction she has on her face.

She gulps, shaking her head so that her hair hides her blush. She sets the cupcake down, not wanting a reminder of how close his face just was.

“Well, it’s edible,” She jokes. Donghyuck’s tongue prods the inside of his mouth as he takes in what was supposedly a compliment.

“Says the one who took the smallest bite known to man,” He accuses, pointing at the cupcake.

“How was I supposed to take a bigger one when you practically shoved your face into it and devoured half?” Once again, she’s reminded of what just transpired and feels her cheeks growing warm.

“Ooo, did I make you flustered? Scared your lips were about to touch mine?” Donghyuck takes a step closer and brushes a nonexistent crumb off her lip with his thumb. He hopes she doesn’t feel his heart pounding like fireworks.

Like she can sense his fake confidence, she grabs his wrist. “Is that what you were thinking about when you took a bite? Kissing me?” She tilts her head to the side and his whole body buzzes.

Before he could crumble even further, he tears his hand out of hers. “Please. Like I’d let anyone touch these royal lips.” He turns around to calm himself down and pretends to busy himself with something on the fridge.

He hears her laugh behind him. “I bet they’re not as sweet as a baker’s.”

He turns around and narrows his eyes at her. “How did this grand opening celebration turn into you messing with me?” Accepting defeat, he resorts to fake anger and his signature pout.

“You started it,” She playfully rolled her eyes. “Anyways…”

With the softest smile, she says, “Thank you, Hyuck. I really appreciate you.”

He returns it, “Always.”

The rest of the night is filled with laughter and playful bickering as the two avoid finishing the mysteriously textured cupcake. Donghyuck makes multiple attempts to pit the blame on her as the teacher, and the soon-to-be bakery owner fails to leave and sleep early at the expense of the Prince’s whines. To be honest, the lack of sleep was worth it if she got to spend more time with him.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Now that the bakery is well past its grand opening and flourishing greatly, I’ve gotten my days back. My employees are well-trained and seasoned and I feel comfortable taking days off when I need to. Oddly, my new opened-up schedule was somehow sensed by Donghyuck and I was invited to the palace during the daytime for the first time ever. I was nervous at first to be sneaking in in broad daylight, but he assured me that if I followed the steps he gave me exactly, I’d be fine – not that reassuring.

As written in his note, I greeted Yunseo, the guard, as usual, and he gave me weird looks, going back and forth between the sun and my face.

“You know the sun is out, right?” He asked, still looking at me funny.

I gave him the most incredulous look. “You’re joking? It’s not nighttime?” I made an effort to crazily look around and he sighed.

“Alright, alright, I get it,” He shook his head. “What are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d switch things up,” I shrugged, not wanting to reveal who I was meeting.

Yunseo nodded, “Fair… okay, be careful, okay? The palace feels a little frantic today.” With that, he opened the gates for me and I gave him a smile.

“You’re the best. Make sure to stop by sometime this week, I have pastries for you.” I waved goodbye as he promised to come.

Following Donghyuck’s poorly drawn-out map, I realized our meeting point isn’t the kitchen and that he’s taking me on an obscure path that the Queen and King definitely are not aware exists. As I walk through centuries-old, dimly lit stone walls, I think about how many times Donghyuck has used these secret passageways and if little Donghyuck used these when he snuck out to see me, 15 years ago. I can imagine 7-year-old Donghyuck discovering these routes within the castle’s walls.

“Stop right there!” A voice echoes through the abandoned hallway.

My heart spazzes and as loud as my brain is yelling at me to run, my feet don’t budge. I curse under my breath and crumple Donghyuck’s map in my hands, remembering to kill him unless I die right here. And if I do happen to die here, then I have to make sure I return as a ghost, haunting that man for life. I turn around slowly, eyes half closed, to see who’s behind me, but there’s no one there. There’s no one in the passageway at all. I whip around a few more times to confirm and I notice a crack in the wall to my right. It’s a peephole overlooking the actual palace hallways.

Out of curiosity, I look through and I see the Queen, face as red as the beautiful gown she adorns.

“Prince Lee Donghyuck,” his name is spat out like bile. “You will follow my orders.”

Coming into view, I see Donghyuck. He and the Queen are in the middle of a heated argument. His head is hung low and I can see him playing with his sleeves like he does when he gets anxious. I wish to reach for him, but then I remember the wall separating us.

“Your majesty, I… I can’t. I don’t want to,” He hiccups, and if I can’t see the tears on his face, I can hear them. “I never did.”

The space in my chest feels as tight and narrow as the walkway I’m in and I want to look away, but I can’t.

“It doesn’t matter what you want. You are the Prince and you are expected to marry a Princess. How dare you fool me for all these years?” As the Queen, she still carries her natural elegance, but her words burn like acid. She’s speaking to him at a normal volume, but her tone pierces your ears.

“I-I didn’t mean to fool you. I tried my best, but I don’t love them. I don’t love the suitresses you send. And I need you to understand that I never will.” Donghyuck finally looks up and I can see the desperation in his eyes from where I stand.

“Love?,” The Queen laughs bitterly. “I don’t need you to love them. You just need to marry one. As the Prince, what makes you think you have the privilege of being in love? Not when you have a country to rule.” There’s less anger in her words and more disappointment.

Donghyuck winces, looking like he’s fighting back what he wants to say. His bottom lip is trembling and the grip he has on his sleeves is tight. His whole body practically shakes. Eventually, he lets go.

“If I’m not meant to love someone, then explain to me why I already do. Explain to me why I love her? Explain to me why I can’t have her?!”

Tears are rolling down his cheeks like heavy rainfall. “I never asked for this!” He screams, and I wonder to which he’s referring to.

My body is sweaty like I ran a mile and I feel like my breathing can be heard through the wall. He never mentions my name, but I know, I can feel, that he’s talking about me. My whole body is buzzing and I don’t know whether to feel ecstatic or sad. Despite my confusion, one feeling is clear: fear. Before I can hear what the Queen has to say, I run.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♔

“Oh God. Sorry, I was supposed to get here before you. I was supposed to be part of the surprise,” He smiles meekly, praying the puffiness from crying doesn’t make him look strange. He accidentally sniffles and hopes she blames it on the flowers and his chronic allergies.

She’s sitting in the garden chair next to the tea table Donghyuck had set up an hour ago. He scoped out a secluded spot in the royal garden and slowly put everything together. He moves to sit down across from her and she’s staring intently at the cup in front of her.

“I asked Gran what your favorite tea is and brewed some for us. I know I don’t have your baking skills, but if we get hungry, we can sneak back to the kitchen,” he playfully winks, trying to hide the fact that he was in the worst state five minutes ago. Although he can’t bake, he can definitely make a good batch of tea. He hopes it hasn’t gone cold.

He waits for a response, but she’s still frozen, chewing the inside of her cheek. Maybe he’s still on edge from his argument with the Queen, but she doesn’t look happy. This is definitely not the reaction he was expecting.

“Do you wanna try the tea? I bet it’ll amaze you so much, you’ll beg me for the recipe,” he teases. The teapot hovers over her cup, but she makes no move to accept it.

“Okay, no tea. That’s fine,” Donghyuck chooses to laugh it off. “Do you wanna walk around? Most of the garden is secluded so we don’t have to worry about someone catching us.”

“Would that be so bad?” The first words she whispers strike him with confusion. Her voice is dry like she just strained it.

“Huh?” He tilts his head, scooting his chair in closer to hear her.

“Would that be so bad?” She says, unable to bate her anger. “Being caught with me? Would his royal highness hate being found walking with me?”

“Hey,” Donghyuck grabs her hand from her lap, interlocking his fingers. “What’s going on?” She tears her hand out from his hold like it stung and he feels like he’s making mistake after mistake.

“I-I’m sorry, is this too much? I wanted to do something nice for our first date outside of the kitchen. Was this a mistake?” He starts to stack the plates, quickly discarding his work. “I usually don’t plan these myself, so I’m sorry if this is bad. I-”

Donghyuck sees her wince in his peripheral and feels her hand on his wrist as he’s about to haphazardly dump the tea in the bushes. Her hands are cold today.

“Date?” The word leaves her mouth as if it made her sick.

The alarms go off in Donghyuck’s mind. “Date? Did I say date? Sorry, I actually mean-”

“Donghyuck,” she cuts him off. He can see her harshly swallow. “Why are you doing this?”

He blinks. “I… I wanted to do something nice for us. It doesn’t have to be romantic if you don’t want it to be. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Donghyuck can feel himself beginning to ramble.

“No. Why have you been hanging out with me? If it’s because you feel guilty about ditching me all those years ago, forget about it. I don’t care anymore.” She looks at him with so much intensity, not only trying to convince him, but convince herself that none of this matters.

“Princess, please. No, it’s not out of pity. You know that.” He shakes his head almost violently, begging her to believe his honest intentions. He was shocked he had to convince her in the first place, always assuming she knew his heart better than him.

Completely ignoring him, she continues, “And why aren’t you married yet?”

“W-what?” Similar to whiplash, Donghyuck feels like his brain has just been jostled. Are his ears tricking him and forcing him to relive the traumatic conversation he just had with his mother? Why is this topic being brought up?

“You’re the Prince,” she says like it’s an unwavering fact. “You’re meeting with princesses weekly. You’re meant to rule side by side as King and Queen. Why… why aren’t you married yet?” She asks and her eyes are ice cold like her hands.

She too closely resembles the older woman who was just yelling at him moments ago. The casing around his heart begins to harden and the feeling he gets from the girl in front of him is now anger. The same bitter taste returns in his mouth.

“Are you serious?” He looks at her and the Donghyuck she knows has washed away. Betrayal, rage, and sorrow are painted across his face. It was like she was looking through the peephole again.

“Don’t ask stupid questions you know the answers to,” he mutters, words barely making it past his tight lips. He’s breathing much harder than before.

“Answer me. Why. Aren’t. You. Married.” Her hands are gripping the edge of her knees to stop them from shaking.

Donghyuck stares at her for a long time, eyes flittering over every facial feature, confirming that she actually wants to hear the answer. Her face is firm and her question is set. He takes a deep, pained breath and leans back slightly.

“It’s because I love you.” Not like the confession he imagined in his head, Donghyuck reveals his long-term feelings like this was their end and not their new beginning. The period at the end of a sentence. The last page of a hardcover book. The last second on a timer.

She simply nods, stiff in the neck. She excuses herself before standing up, bowing, and walking away.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“That’ll be $6.06. Would you like your receipt?”

The cash register dings with another purchase and I slump back in my chair as the customer leaves. It was a slow and agonizing shift with only two more hours till closing. It’s also been a slow and agonizing two weeks.

I’m haunted by what went down at the royal garden almost every hour of the day. At first, I was using every chance I could get to skip work and wallow at home. But suddenly the plants in my room reminded me of him and the teacups in my cabinets smelled like the tea he prepared for us. So for the second week, I decided to dedicate myself to work. I’ve been coming in every single day and overworking myself to the point where my employees don’t know what to do but stand around. I debate whether or not to let them leave early when a familiar head of brown hair walks in. My heart picks up its pace and it’s like the teacups all over again.

“Donghyu- oh. Hi, welcome!” I smile wide, trying to hide the previous disappointment drawn on my face. The customer gives me an awkward smile back and begins browsing the pastry racks as I mentally slap myself.

I slump down to the floor behind the counter and silently groan in my hands. Why does every male brunette customer these past two weeks remind me of him? And why are there so many of them? Like every other time I’ve confused a customer with Donghyuck, the guilt begins to creep back into my system and I get flashbacks of our last conversation.

“Why aren’t you married?,” I mock my own voice. “Are you stupid?” I repeatedly hit my palms against my head when I hear a ding from the counter bell. I quickly shoot up and brush the bangs out of my face, hoping the customer thinks I’m at least slightly normal.

“Hi, how can I hel- Grandma!” On instinct, I glance behind her, foolishly hoping he’s hiding behind her tiny frame, and my shoulders slump when I’m met with no one. So now I’m really imagining him.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, composing myself.

“Just checking in on you. I notice you haven’t been coming to the kitchen because when I come in in the mornings, my counter is actually clean,” she jokes. I smile sheepishly and nervously adjust the apron string around my neck.

“Sorry, it’s usually Donghyuck’s fault,” I quickly clear my throat, answering a little too fast. “The Prince, I mean.”

Grandma’s eyebrows shoot up at the mention of his name and she looks down at her feet, suddenly fidgety. I notice her change in demeanor instantly.

“Speaking of him…”

“We don’t need to,” I cut her off. “Speak about him, I mean.” I wince at how suspicious my words sound.

“If you don’t want to, that’s okay. I’m just curious… if anything happened between you two.” She whispers the last part, looking back at the customer to make sure he can’t hear. She clears her throat and steps behind the counter with me, naturally rearranging the bread in the display case. She busies herself while encouraging me to speak.

I gnaw on my lip, tapping the counter, debating if I should finally talk it out with someone. I’ve only been talking to my employees about bread starters and yeast.

“We fought.” I admit.

“About?” Grandma loads the case with more bread. I start passing them to her one by one.

“He told me… he told me he loved me.” I press my lips together and I hear her head hit the top of the display case and the bread hit the floor. “Grandma! Are you okay?”

I crouch down, grabbing the top of her head to inspect, and she’s giving me the most incredulous look.

“He told you he loved you?!” She squealed at an embarrassingly non-discrete volume, making the customer drop the pastry in his hands. He’s looking around, frazzled, and I can see him debate whether or not he should pick it back up.

“Don’t worry about it! I’ll clean it up!” I screamed from behind the counter.

“Grandma, keep it down,” I curse through my teeth.

She’s rubbing her head and shaking it in either pain or confusion.

“I know, I know. A Prince saying he’s in love with the baker’s granddaughter is farfetched and unrealistic. I get it.” It’s what has been circling through my brain every day.

“That’s not what I’m confused about, dear.” She looks like she’s debating what to say next. “Did you not hear?”

“Hear what?” At the end of my question, and like a universal sign, the door jingles and the mailman is rushing in, hair swept back by the wind.

“Sorry! I forgot to drop this off this morning. It’s urgent mail.” He salutes and is out the door as quickly as he enters.

On the counter is a letter with the royal stamp. My stomach feels queasy assuming this is the first contact I’ve had from Donghyuck since our fight, but I can’t help the naive smile that breaks out on my face. I rush to open it, not worrying about the papercuts. Every doubt that was just in my head disappeared and my grandma interjects, hoping to bring me back down from my high.

“Sweetie, wait. I need to tell you that-”

To the owner of Princess Bakery,

Prince Lee Donghyuck will be celebrating his union with Princess Nam Soohae on 26 May, 2023 at the royal garden grounds. The royal family requests a wedding cake to be made with your expertise and culinary skills.

Please accept this royal assignment with details soon to come.

Signed,

The Lees

The words on the page silenced me and my thoughts, my breaths barely leaving my lips. My eyes kept darting across the paper; the calligraphed words are being repeated over and over again in my brain.

Prince Lee Donghyuck.

His union.

Wedding cake.

Realization finally dawns that this isn’t the love letter or apology I was expecting from Prince Donghyuck. A breath finally escapes and it’s shaky as it wavers in the air like an offkey music note. A heart-stopping pain envelopes my chest and it seizes up to my eyes. The whites of the paper burn my irises. I catch a teardrop splattering onto the parchment. I’m haunted with images of Donghyuck at the altar with someone else. And then I’m thinking about the garden. And us.

Surprise.

Our first date.

Because I love you.

Because he loves me? Because Prince Lee Donghyuck loves me? Prince Lee Donghyuck who is getting married to an actual princess in a week? Suddenly, it feels like the floor’s unsteady and the oven temperature was turned up to the highest. The letter wrinkles between my fingers and the ink smudges with salty tears.

This is what I was afraid of. And yet this is what I set myself up for. I knew I should have stopped seeing him. I knew it the moment mango tarts began to remind me of him. The moment my secret ingredient of love found in every bake was powered by him and his place in my heart. Even though I meant to stop this from happening during our talk in the royal garden, that small teaspoon of hope was still sprinkled in my mind. That hope stayed every time I saw a plant, a teacup, or a brunette. But now it’s dissolved.

A new feeling washes over me. One that I haven’t felt once these past two weeks. Not false hope. Not heartbreak. And not regret.

Anger.

“Don’t blame him.”

My grandma’s words slice through the red and her hands on my arms attempt to calm me down. I look up through wet lashes, lips trembling.

“Donghyuck… Prince Donghyuck had no say. The royals… they never do.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be my grandma?” I clench my jaw to stop the shaking, slightly regretting my bitter words.

Her grip is softer. “Oh honey, I am. And that’s why I’m telling you not to waste this energy on being mad at him. What you guys share is beautiful, don’t let this taint it.” She takes the letter out of my hands and physically turns me to face her.

“Shared,” I corrected her.

“Share,” She corrects me. “Your love for each other is seen by everyone. I know it can’t flourish the way love is supposed to, but at least cherish it for what it was.”

Her words reintroduce more feelings. Sorrow. Frustration.

“I was really hoping this time it works out…” She voices my thoughts.

At this point, I’m hiccupping between breaths, caught between reliving the past and hearing these explanations. The world was never meant to have us together it seems. But at least I was told this time we had an ending.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The next royal letter came two days after the first, and I was called to spend a week in the royal palace to test out different wedding cakes. I essentially had no choice but to say yes as the royal chauffeurs picked me up every morning to take me there. It felt like those sunrises with my grandma when I was seven but the butterflies in my stomach turned into bees. Unlike the past, I prayed I wouldn’t run into Prince Donghyuck, but with him having requested I make his cake, I’m sure he knows I’m here.

My grandma designated a portion of the kitchen to me as the head baker and it mimicked the old days as much as it could. That was until I got a visitor on the second day.

“Good morning! I’m Princess Nam Soohae.”

My eyes widened and my whisk fell out of my grasp as I took in her presence. She’s beautiful. She’s an actual princess. Her bright, toothy smile would’ve made anyone smitten if it weren’t for the fact that she was about to marry the man I loved. The pretty pink dress she wore was tinted green through my eyes. I shook my head, trying to remind myself of my place.

“Good morning,” I bowed. “I’m the baker in charge of your wedding cake.” My smile faltered only slightly with the mention of the union.

She giggles and I almost want to laugh with her. “I know that, silly. I was sent by the Queen to sample some. Or should I say my future mother-in-law.” She bites her perfectly manicured nail with excitement.

Soohae leans her hands on the counter and peers at the bowl in my hand.

“Is there any to try right now?” Her head surveys the kitchen like a kid looking for cookies. It’s genuinely hard to dislike her.

“Um, I have a few cakes placed to the side to cool right now. There’s no frosting on it yet, but I’m sure it’d be good to try the base first!” I move to grab one of the trays and she flutters to follow me.

“Ooooh!” She gushes. “I’m so excited to try it. My own wedding cake, can you believe it?”

“No.” I almost drop the cake. “I mean, yes? Sorry. Getting married to the one you love is… it’s a crazy thing.” I cut a piece of cake and place it on a plate for her.

She doesn’t hesitate to take a bite and as she chews, she thinks.

“I don’t love him yet, to be honest. This cake is really good, by the way.” I start cutting a slice from the other cake to sample. “But I know I will love him eventually. I already get butterflies when I look at him. I trust that he’s the one for me, I mean have you seen him?”

Before I can agree, and thank god she doesn’t give me a second to, she continues, “I know it’s silly for a person in my position to believe in the one. But I really, really do think it could be him. The other day he brought me my favorite flowers, like how did he know?!” She pops a bite of the other cake in and her eyes light up.

“Oh this is the one! Don’t even think about giving me another,” The Princess reaches for another bite and applauds me.

I laugh and make sure to note to go with the lemon base and not the mango one. As my hands are about to toss the mango cake away, my mind stops me and I consider whether Donghyuck would prefer this instead. The clanking of the Princess’s fork on the plate, finishing the lemon cake slice till it’s crumbs, reels me back and I let the cake fall into the garbage. It feels eerily like a metaphor.

For the rest of the week, Princess Soohae visits me and taste tests the frosting, fondant, and other things she wants. With every passing day, I hear more about Haechan and I can feel that her words have turned fonder. Coincidentally, her sweet tooth has gotten worse and the final components of the wedding cake are a complete sugar bomb like her personality.

On my final day, the Queen joins her. The last time I saw her majesty, she was berating the Prince as I secretly watched. It felt like I was in that hidden passageway again as she watches me prepare a slice of the wedding cake for her. My hands shake, placing the plate down in front of her and her gaze is sharp. It’s interesting how harsh her energy is when her facial features are as soft as the Prince’s. She looks like she’s been through a lot and I wonder if Donghyuck will experience the same thing when he fulfills his role as King. Like she can tell I’m thinking about him, The Queen’s eyes narrow.

“I hope you enjoy,” I bow, and she doesn’t say a word. Princess Soohae on the other hand is completely bubbling over how good it turned out and how her guests are sure to love it too.

The Queen simply nibbles on a piece and nods along. The black and white vibes almost give me whiplash as I stand there, watching the two of them. A sweat forms on my hairline and I’m internally glad this is my last day. I can’t go through this any longer.

And like a karmic jinx, the kitchen door opens and a familiar brunette walks in. This time, it is him.

“Oh my! Prince Donghyuck!” Princess Soohae scrambles off her chair and bows both gracefully and clumsily. I bow as well, trying hard to hide the immediate blush on my face I get whenever I see him. I wonder if I can stay bowing so I don’t have to meet his face. The last time we saw each other was when we talked at the royal garden, and as much as I prayed I wouldn’t run into him here, truthfully, a part of me also hoped I would.

As soon as I force myself to stand up straight, we lock eyes and the strain in my chest loosens like a snapped thread. I can feel my lungs fill with air and it’s relieving to see him again after so long. It hurts in the best way as I’m overwhelmed by his presence. That familiar brown waved hair, the sunkissed tan skin, and the plump smiley cheeks. Everything is how I left it but his expression is not one I expected. He’s in complete shock and I don’t know what to do but look around the room to find something that would cause such surprise. I quickly glance at the Queen, and for the first time since she sat down, there’s a small lift in the corner of her mouth. Is she smirking?

“Princess?” He tilts his head, still staring at me before he realizes what he just called me. “Princess! Princess Soohae! I came to get you.” He runs over to grab her hand and the lifted cheekbones on her face tells me she’s grinning.

“What- uh- what’s going on?” I’m fixated on the way he fiddles with her hand as he looks around the room for answers.

“Cake testing? How did you forget, silly?” Princess Soohae laughs as she playfully pats his cheeks. Everyone in the room can tell she’s head over heels and my stomach hurts. As I’m clutching my stomach and the Prince stares at me quizzically, there’s one person in the room watching all of this go down.

“She’s the wedding cake baker we outsourced, Prince Donghyuck.” The Queen says calmly, gesturing to me. She tells him like it’s his first time hearing this and I’m taken aback, my movements making the utensils on the table quiver slightly.

“He didn’t know?” My mouth was too quick to voice my thoughts. “His highness, I mean.” I bow in apology.

“No. No, I didn’t.” His hands are at his side now, gripping the fabric of his sleeves. The shock left his face and now he’s staring at me with pity and then silent anger when his head turns towards the Queen. My eyes follow his and she returns his look as if to challenge him to say more.

Completely obvious to the shift in atmosphere, Princess Soohae raves about the final wedding cake decisions and begs the Prince to try a bite. He turns her down without sparing a glance and asks her to leave with him. He doesn’t give me a second thought as he breaks eye contact with the Queen and drags his future wife away. There’s no stopping the ache that fills my chest again, slow but strong like the rising tide.

“So he still likes you.”

Snapped out of my haze, my ears don’t believe the words I hear coming from the Queen’s lips.

“Pardon?” She’s looking at me now and it’s a mixture of disappointment and disinterest etched on her face. The warmth on her face has depleted.

“My son. Prince Donghyuck. He still likes you,” she laughs dryly. “After all these years…”

My eyebrows furrow and I feel myself getting dizzy. Maybe this is all some sort of hallucination and the Queen isn’t talking to me right now. I grip the counter for support, and she doesn’t wait for me to respond.

“You know, I thought I handled the issue 15 years ago when I asked the head baker to stop bringing you here. I was stupid to think it would be that easy when he purposely sabotaged every date I set up for him the years after.”

She’s twirling the fork on the plate now and the scrapes make me flinch. The kitchen no longer feels like a safe space for me right now as her words slowly suffocate me.

“And when he started to actually go on these dates this year and report back to me that they’re going well? I was foolish to think it was him beginning to try. I saw you one day, back in this kitchen. Back in his life. It all made sense and it made me so angry.” Her hands grip the fork handle. They’re dainty, but if you look close, they’re calloused, indicating years of work. Her face appears the same. If it weren’t for the terrifying state I was in, I would’ve wanted to comfort her. She looks up at me, and I felt tinier than I did before, her eyes piercing into me.

“Do you not understand the life I’m trying to set up for Donghyuck? He’s the future king. He needs a queen, a real queen to survive in this world. As the queen, I know firsthand what he needs. My king wouldn’t be anywhere without me and his mother who set me up with him. You’re not fit for this role and you never will be.” She finally sets the fork down with a clatter.

“Listen to me, and let him go. It’s what’s best.” Her threatening nature fades as quickly as it came and she gracefully stands up, brushing the nonexistent debris on her gown. The Queen gives me one final look, waiting for me to bow and essentially agree, before leaving the kitchen.

The air returns and I grasp my chest to let myself breathe. Tears prick the corner of my eyes as I choke back sobs.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“Remember, it’s the room on the right hallway. Third door. And if anyone sees you, don’t tell them I sent you. I’ll get in trouble.” My grandma hammers in the details one more time, waiting for me to nod in confirmation.

It’s the end of my final day and she asked me to deliver pastries to a room in the palace before I leave, saying her workload is too large to be going herself. I figured it’s one more thing I could do before I never step foot in the palace again. I almost turned her down earlier in fear of running into the Queen. Just the thought of that happening makes me feel sick, but I know I won’t be seeing her again after this anyways.

I scoff, “So you’d rather I get sent to the guillotine?” I tease her with an exaggerated horrified look.

She easily flicks my forehead, despite our height difference, and I grab it wincing. “You’re lucky I don’t chop off your head myself with that attitude of yours.” She sneers at me and I giggle.

“Fair…,” I playfully mutter, soothing the area between my brows.

Her directions sent me to a room with beautiful brown double doors. I smile at the two ladies standing outside of it and I’m about to explain why I’m here before they cut me off.

“Pastry delivery for the Prince?” They say in unison.

Like a horror movie, my jaw drops and I lose my instinct to run. One thing I do know is to make sure I yell at my grandma later as I nod and tell them they’re correct. She completely set me up.

On another occasion, I would’ve appreciated the doors to Prince Donghyuck’s bedroom more, but right now, they look like the gates of Hell. I attempt to swallow whatever saliva was left in my suddenly dry mouth as I brushed my hair out of my face. The ladies allow me to knock on the door. My palms are sweaty as I shakily knock on the varnished wood, hearing it echo into the space on the other side. His room must be huge.

No responses are heard. This was my out, but my body was telling me not to leave, even though my mind was screaming to run. Instead of knocking again, I turn the knob and almost wish it wasn’t unlocked, but it was.

There he is on the other side, scribbling at his desk. His back is facing me and I watch the muscles in them move with vigor. I haven’t seen him work this hard since he convinced me to teach him how to make a creme brulée and accidentally made scrambled eggs with the yolks.

I shut the door behind me and hope it catches his attention, but it doesn’t. I gulp, realizing how very real this situation is and I almost want to throw up knowing I have to speak.

“Hyuck.”

I hear him inhale and he spins quickly out of his chair to look at me. Different to how it felt seeing him in the kitchen earlier today, his face is softer, accepting my presence. My heart floats in my chest, wondering why I was so nervous to see him when just the sight of him oozes comfort. He looks at me like he’s feeling the same way. I see the longing in his eyes and the way they warm, I close my own to stop myself from giving in too much.

“Princess.”

His voice is fragile and his choice of words makes me shut my eyes harder, scared that I’d lose all my resilience and run straight into his arms. He doesn’t correct himself this time, and he says it again with more confidence.

I finally peel them open and force myself to act cold. Just an hour ago I was finishing his wedding cake; this fire has to be extinguished.

“Princess Soohae will make a great queen.” I move to set the pastry basket down on a table near me.

“It’s not what you think. I was going to-“ He turns around in a frenzy and grabs the paper he was just writing on. The Prince takes a step closer and it takes all my strength to recoil. It takes all of me not to be swayed by the obvious hurt on his face. This will be good for us, I have to remind myself.

My hand is up, drawing the line. “You don’t have to explain. It’s not what I’m here for.”

He hesitantly puts his arm down, eyebrow twitched in confusion. The paper is still in his hands.

“I got you a gift,” I partly smile. “A wedding gift and I guess, also… a goodbye gift.” With that statement, I break away from his stare, fixating on a corner in his grand room.

I hear paper wrinkling. “A goodbye gift?” His voice gets lower and it causes me to wince. It feels like all the tension in the room gathered in the small vacancy in my chest and the overwhelming pressure makes my eyes sting. I can already feel the tears build up as I play with the hem of my shirt.

“Mhm,” I painfully affirm. “The wedding cake. It’s both my gift and my goodbye. I thought you requested it when I first got the royal letter,” I laugh at the situation, trying to stop myself from letting him see me cry.

“Turns out it wasn’t you, but regardless. You’re getting married and I can’t be here anymore. So I left it in the kitchen. Obviously, it’s not a goodbye-goodbye, since I’ll still be living here in the city, but… No. Yeah, it’s a goodbye,” I nod to myself, trying to unravel the knot in my throat. “I guess you took my advice, huh? Congratulations, your highness.”

The silence from him is thick and it leaves a sour feeling in my stomach. It calls me to look up at him, and his eyes are icy cold. The sweet honey brown is as dark as coal.

“This is your response?” His words are robotic, I can feel the venom on his tongue as it pricks at my heart.

“S-sorry?” I tilt my head, not understanding him. It felt terrifying to make him repeat himself in the state he’s in.

“I told you I loved you. I’m assuming this is your response.” My eyes flicker to the paper in his fist, no longer readable. Neither is his face as he gives me the blankest look. It makes me want to cry more knowing this is how I will remember our last moments.

This time, I do take a step towards him but he’s shaking his head aggressively, lower back pressed against the edge of his desk. Now I know how he felt.

“If you want to hear me say ‘I love you’, you know I can’t do that.” Just having those three words leave my lips causes a tear to roll down my cheek.

“Because I’m the Prince?” This time, his expression changes to match mine. I can feel the frustration and pain radiating off of him, and all I want to do is to tell him what he needs to hear. But I just nod, forcing a distance.

“So it always mattered. What if… what if it was 7-year-old Donghyuck asking his princess? What would you have said? You didn’t know who I was back then. I was just… just Donghyuck.” He sighs, his body is limp as he settles onto his desk. I notice his frail build, worried that he’s been eating less.

I smile, fondly remembering the ignorant bliss from 15 years ago. But then I’m forced to remember our situation now, our ugly situation where our hearts are demanded to stay silent.

“I would’ve told him I loved him too.”

And with that, all strength is gone as I sob into my palm. I’m trying to force the wails in, but my body is shaking. My legs feel weak and he’s over here and his arms are wrapped tightly around me in a second. I can feel his heart beating against my arm trapped between our bodies and his breath shakily blowing on the top of my head. One hand is holding me tight and the other is brushing through my hair as he shushes me.

“I love you. I love you. I love you,” He repeats. A part of me thinks this is to calm himself down too.

I know I’m right when I slowly pull myself back and see the red in his eyes and on the tip of his nose. My hand flinches as I’m about to caress his cheek. His breath is steadier as it now fans across my face and his eyes are lidded like they’ve finally got some rest. My hesitation vanishes as I let myself cup his face, trace the constellation painted on his cheek, and feel the sweetness of his lips on mine. The warm sensation that envelops my body makes me gasp and Donghyuck tightens his embrace on me, refusing to let go. He tasted better than every sweet treat I’ve had combined. He was intoxicating and my whole body buzzed like a sugar rush.

I close my eyes tighter, savoring the feeling of his lips, wanting to remember every trace — letting myself be selfish this last time. He’s sugary, cozy, and soothing like the afternoon sun on my back. His mouth moves with such ease against mine and it feels like I’ve been kissing him my whole life. The feeling of his tongue gently nudging my bottom lip jolts me back to reality and I push away, seized by the cold air of his big room again.

I bring my hands to my face, hoping to cool down the flush. The Prince is breathing as heavily and in sync with me, and all I can hear is our matching breaths and the ringing in my ears. I have to end it here.

“Um. Congratulations on your wedding,” I say in one breath. I don’t dare look at him as I quickly bow, scrambling to his door.

“Princess! Wait,” He grabs my wrist, almost too tight. “I can’t go through with this. Please, I-I only want to marry you.”

“Your highness…”

“Don’t. Don’t call me that. Say my name, please. Call me Hyuck. Call me Donghyuck. Anything but that. Just don’t-“ His teeth are chattering and he blinks away the tears. “Don’t leave me again.”

Without a second thought, I’m shaking my head ‘no.’ Even with tears blurring my vision, I can see the hurt on his face and I feel a part of my heart rot. It pains me just as much to reject him, but the Queen’s words swirl around in my head, unrelentless. I’m forced to leave him and my heart here and I want to scream, but I can’t. He notices that. It reminds him of himself.

Letting the finality of my decision settle in, he lets go of me, taking in a shaky breath. This was our end.

I restrain myself from taking any steps towards him as I reach for the door behind me. The wooden panel swings open, gliding past my extended fingers as I’m met with the face of the Queen.

That same hand shoots up to touch my lips, remembering what just happened in here and I bow till my hair grazes the tiled floors.

“Your Majesty,” I squeak. She looks at me with a million emotions and plants her glare at the Prince. Like pieces of a puzzle coming together, her face twists into anger, dissecting the situation. I take this as my cue to leave but the Queen shuts the door behind the both of us. I don’t hear the Prince make any moves to save me.

“What were you doing in there?” She angrily whispers between clenched teeth. Not sure what comes over me, but the fear I felt before is gone. Instead, I’m left feeling numb.

“Don’t worry. I was just saying goodbye.” I swallow, bracing myself for her reprimands.

A beat passes, before she speaks, this time in a normal tone. “Are you done?”

I nod, “Yes, and I’d like to be excused from attending the wedding to serve the cake.” The Queen’s eyebrows quirk up, shocked that I’ve made a request. I look her straight in the eyes so she knows I mean it.

“I can’t… I can’t be there for that. I believe I’ve done all the preparation I can and I am not needed to actually attend.” My confidence waivers, and I draw my attention back to the ground.

“Fair enough. You don’t have to attend. I’ll tell the other bakers to serve it.” I take my chance to meet her eyes again and I can almost see concern on her face. I shake my head of that ridiculous thought, and offer her my best smile.

“Thank you, your majesty.” I bow before dragging my feet off the palace grounds. Hoping to never set foot in here ever again.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Bells. I plan to remove all bells from my bakery. The royal wedding bells have been ringing all morning and I don’t need any more reminders moving forward.

I spent the whole night crying after leaving the palace and then my anxiety kicked in, trying to get me to map out my life without him. Naturally, I planned to pour myself into work and here I am, out of bed, manning the shop by myself on his wedding day. I may have cried into a batch of dough in the morning, but baby steps are important. This is only day one anyways.

I realized I made a mistake leaving the house when I overheard everyone in town talk about the wedding of the century. I even let my employees off for the day, mainly to have my space to wallow alone. Practically everyone was outside the palace gates, waiting to get a glimpse of the couple. The streets were currently empty and I wonder if I should just close up shop.

Right when I was about to count up the cash and close out the register, the bell on the door jingles. I’m halfway into the one dollar bills when I roll my eyes at the sound, pressing my lips together to stop a groan. I make a mental note to remove the bell before I leave.

I look up to check on the customer and I see a man with, of course, brown hair surveying the bread on the back wall. All I can see is the back of his head as he peruses. I scoff to myself at the instant fluttering of my chest at yet another brunette customer. Is no one blond anymore? Are gingers that rare for me to never encounter one in my bakery?

I finish counting the ones and I move onto the fives when I realize he’s still standing in the same spot. I’m organizing the bills in my hands as I examine him. Normal guy. Black hoodie. Jeans.

Maybe he’s just really indecisive. I can see him tapping his foot from the counter. I decide to offer help after I finish counting the five dollar bills.

With the last dollar to count, I place it in the tray and slowly walk over to the man. As I get closer, my stranger danger instincts kick in and I suddenly regret my decision. His foot is still shaking and from this close, I can see him fidgeting with his sleeves in front of him. I grab a pair of tongs from the closest case and approach him.

“Excuse me, sir? Can I help you find something?” I have the tongs gripped with both hands, discreetly but ready to swing.

I see his body tense and my breath hitches, thinking I’m really going to have to hit this man with my makeshift weapon.

He turns around painstakingly slow and I raise the tongs instinctively to block my face, before letting out a squeal.

But then I see his face. And different bells go off.

“Oh my god. Hyuck?”

The bags under his eyes are prominent and I finally notice the way his hair has been pulled in different directions. His lips are dry as he cracks a sheepish smile. He’s rubbing the back of his neck and notices the kitchen utensil in my hands.

“Were you gonna hit me?!” His mouth is open in surprise and he’s taking the tongs from my hands. I let him and put my hands up in defense.

“You were standing there for so long, all fidgety! I’m alone in here, what was I supposed to think?” I fight back, taking the tongs back and clutching it close to my chest.

He lets out a long sigh, seemingly frustrated with himself as he runs his hands through his hair. I hate that I find it attractive.

“Wait.” He looks up at me through his lashes, swallowing. “What are you doing here?” I ask. He blinks, knowing that question was coming.

I expected to feel sick awaiting his answer, but instead my heart is racing, anticipating his next words. I almost feel that false hope I felt a week ago, and I try hard to deny it. But the way he’s looking at me leaves me with no doubts.

I’m about to push him out the door when he digs a hand into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper. The wrinkled piece of paper from yesterday. He plays with it in his hands as he thinks about his next move.

“I was drafting a request to get the law changed.”

His words peak my interest. I set the tongs down and let him continue. Wrapping my arms around my waist for security, I’m fearful of what he has to say next.

“I’ve actually been working on it for the past two months.” He flattens the paper out in his hands. “You caught me finishing the final draft yesterday. I didn’t expect it to take up until my wedding day…” He laughs, unhumored by the situation.

He hands it to me. “This is an old copy now, but it’s actually already being reviewed by the King. Right now. Being who I am, I fled just in case.”

He looks at me anxiously as I read the top of the page, the words in bold:

Formal Petition to Repeal the Royal Marriage Ordinance

Written By Prince Lee Donghyuck

My eyes don’t believe what’s written, like the royal letter I received not too long ago, requesting I bake the royal wedding cake. The same royal stamp and all rests in the top left corner.

This time, I can read the words clearly. They settle into my chest, leaving me with such a funny feeling. I read the text and I can tell it’s written by him. I imagine him staying up every night after we meet in the kitchen, working by himself on this proposal. All of his hard work for the past couple months was printed on this very paper. All this work… for us.

I feel my cheeks wet from pure joy and I cover the smile straining my mouth. A rush unfurls through my body like sweet, sweet sugar and I look up to share it with him.

“Donghyuck… You-?”

“Marry me.”

He gets down on one knee, holding my free hand. He’s rubbing that one spot on my ring finger and it feels unreal. The gleam in his eyes reminds me of the toasty fires in the oven, the glistening mangos on his favorite tart. His smile matches mine, nervous just slightly, and I want to paint this memory in my brain forever. The love and desperation in his eyes are begging me to think of him. Think of us. Every fear that had been eating away at me the past month was overcome by his pleas. This paper and his actions are proof that we can happen.

He continues,

“Princess, please marry me. I’ve only wanted to marry you almost my entire life. I know that sounds crazy, but how can I doubt my obvious soulmate? You always come back to me, but I still don’t want another reason for you to have to leave. So please, trust me and trust us. Forget everything and everyone else and say you’ll marry me. If this petition doesn’t pass, I’ll continue to fight. Just…

Say you’ll be my princess forever.”

I tug his hand softly to get him to stand up. He obliges and I free my hands to hold his face. He finally breathes and closes his eyes, leaning into my touch. I can feel him relax and his hands rest on my hips, drawn like a magnet. My mind is bouncing back and forth trying to contain the frenzy in my heart and the steady warmth of my core. I tap his eyelid lightly with my thumb and ask him to look at me. He opens them slowly, fear still trickling in his irises. I smile at him.

“My Prince,” His breath hitches. “I love you too.”

Donghyuck wastes no time tucking his head into my neck and lifting me against his body. He spins me around between the cases of bread and I giggle, feeling his heart beat erratically against mine. He softly lets my feet touch the ground and we’re looking at each other again, tears adding sparkles to his eyes. I wipe them away instantly.

“Thank you for coming back,” he whispers, but it feels like he said it with his whole being.

“Always.” I say with just as much commitment.

We’re cherishing the moment together, laughing at how happy we get to be, when the wedding bells go off once more. I look at him with confusion and he shrugs, just as lost.

“I can’t believe my wedding cake is going to waste,” I pout, remembering all my hardwork. And he squeezes my hip at my choice to be silly, snickering.

“I can’t believe you went with a lemon cake. Do you even know me?” He teases, pretending to be hurt. I gasp, slapping his chest.

“I’ll make sure to go with the mango tarts for ours.” I press a soft kiss on his lips and he smiles with me, pulling me unbelievably closer.

“I like the sound of that,” Donghyuck hums.

“I’m sure you do.” I laugh.

Donghyuck and I stand there in each other’s arms for as long as our legs allow. We talk about the past, how it felt to leave each other. We talk about the garden and I admit to catching him talk to his mom, which explains everything he needs to know. Even as I’m profusely apologizing, he’s doing the same, saying sorry for putting me in such a situation. I choose to ask about Princess Soohae and he bites his lip nervously, telling me he hasn’t handled that predicament yet. I almost drag him out of the bakery at the sound of that. We even go over his repeal proposal and I call him out for some typos.

Eventually we move to the kitchen, doing what we do best, and what we’ve done for years, waiting for someone to find him. The Prince and his Princess.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

A/N: i hope you enjoyed!! pls like, reblog, reply, whatever!! if u want hehe

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umemiyan · 1 month ago

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𝗦𝗨𝗚𝗨𝗥𝗨 𝗚𝗘𝗧𝗢 𝗫 𝗙!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥.⌇ 18+ only, mdni / incest / pregnancy / infidelity / heavy petting / just an idea i had last night that i felt the need to share so i drabbled this out. he’s heavy on the brain rn it’s kinda scaring me. (dividers by cafekitsune)

hear me out: suguru and his pregnant twin sister who’s freshly married to another man.

it’s rather early in the pregnancy, but your husband insists on having someone stay with you while he’s away on a business trip just in case something were to happen. and there’s no better option than your very own brother, suguru, who happily agrees when you ask. he’s strong, sensible, and perfectly capable of handling any situation that might go awry. if he doesn’t cause one himself.

you’ve always been close—closer than your average pair of siblings, really. life wasn’t kind to you both growing up, so you often had to lean on one another for support, acting like a pair of adults long before either you ever became of age. it allowed a certain maturity to settle in your bones, but robbed you of most normalcy.

spending time alone with him in the home is just like old times. you cook dinner together and wash the dishes, suguru stepping out onto the balcony for a smoke afterwards, but you can’t join him for a chat this time; your husband nearly goes into cardiac arrest whenever someone lights up within 200 feet of you. suguru doesn’t blame him for it, but his cigarette butts are longer when you aren’t out there with him.

your place is pretty nice—much nicer than anywhere the two of you had lived when you were younger. those days have long past, but suguru still can’t help but feel a little out of place as he sits on the sofa and watches tv on a screen that practically consumes the entire space. or maybe he’s simply envious that another man was able to give you a better life before he could.

you call out for him from in the shower, breaking his daze. “suguruuu!”

he stands and makes his way into the steamy bathroom. something about this feels so familiar. “yeah?”

“i left my towel on the shelf out there. can you get it?” the water is shut off but you don’t feel like dripping water all over the floor to fetch your towel, so he brings it to you with a half-smile.

“thank you,” you say, opening the curtain to reach out and take it, not expecting him to be watching.

“still forgetting your towels, i see.” he teases you and casts a glance over the parts of your body he can view as you dry yourself off.

“yeah, sometimes.”

“you’d probably forget your tits if they weren’t attached.” suguru makes a quick reach to pinch one of your nipples between his fingers before you swat him away, trying to hold back a laugh.

“stop it! don’t be a freak.”

you’re both grinning, and he chuckles. “i’m just telling the truth.”

you half expect him to leave now, but he just leans against the counter and keeps watching you. “you were particularly bad for forgetting your towels when we lived in the motel for some reason.”

you mostly finish drying yourself off and lazily sling the fabric around your torso before leaning against the counter next to him for the last steps of your routine.

“yeah, well… it was probably because in the back of my mind i always knew you wouldn’t be far away to bring it to me.”

he grows silent. that makes something swell in his chest.

you pause what you’re doing to look over at him. “you just gonna stand and stare, or…?”

suguru smirks. “yeah. what of it?”

you roll your eyes playfully. “weirdo.”

he chuckles. “yeah. weirdo.”

you still do everything in more or less the same way as before, but perhaps in an even more beautiful manner somehow. he can’t stop himself from reaching out to tuck a stray wet piece of hair behind your ear with the gentleness of a lover, letting his fingers travel across your shoulder and eventually down to where the towel is haphazardly tucked around you.

“i used to always think we might somehow get married someday—that you’d be my beautiful wife.” suguru hooks a finger beneath the towel and starts tugging, but you give him a side-eye and lock your arm down to keep it in place. this only tempts him more, and he chuckles “crazy, huh? well it just made sense to me.”

he moves to stand behind you and use his strength to pull the towel down until it lands on the floor and you huff with a pout, distracted from what you were doing. his massive hands splay across your ribcage as he watches in the mirror, creeping up until he can stroke his thumbs over your nipples, making you jump. so sensitive.

“i couldn’t imagine a version of my life without your head on the pillow next to mine,” he continues to admit, touch slowly causing you to melt against him.

your body has felt so different lately, but not all of it has been so bad. there have been moments of discomfort, confusion, and even dysphoria as you wrapped your head around your first pregnancy, but there were also times when all you wanted was for someone to brush against your aching cunt—

suguru’s fingers slip down between your thighs until they can dip into your pussy for a teasing touch, letting him test the waters and get a feel for your beautiful body. he knows in his soul that it was made for him; it fits perfectly within his hands, even now.

“sugu…”

he loves it when you call him that.

he leans so close that his breath invades your ear with a half-whisper. “why don’t you come be my wife instead?” he pulls his fingers away from your clit and moves his hand up to rest over the slight bump in your belly, wide palm and thick digits covering a majority of the space, almost as if he’s protecting it, claiming it. “the baby can be ours.”

you inch away from him then, pulling yourself out of the spell he cast over you. “suguru, stop it. why would you say that?” you turn to face him and feel the heat of shame and guilt slither throughout your entire being.

you’re married. suguru is your brother. you shouldn’t have even let him touch you in the first place; he was being irrational and invasive, speaking and doing things that didn’t make sense.

but… they did make a little sense. in fact, they made more sense to you who used to have similar thoughts than they probably would to anyone else. but that was beside the point.

suguru chuckles at you with a dark and lusty yet melancholic look in his eye, affectionately taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “just being a weirdo i guess; saying what’s on my mind.”

he searches your gaze one last time before releasing you and walking away. before he can clear the door, however, he turns to say one last thing:

“but i could feel how wet your pretty pussy got.”

my beloved @fyodior requested a tag <3

#okay i need to go shower and get ready for my therapy session LMFAOOOO #suguru geto x reader #re: suguru geto #my writing.

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woniechronicles · 1 year ago

Text

type: smut with afab reader, not gender specific

includes: penetration, squirting, mirror sex, semi-public (?) sex, choking, hair pulling, soft dom! jungwon, slight overstimulation, raw (wrap before you tap), spanking (kinda), aggressive/rough (consensual), pet name (slut), edging, creampie - i think that’s it

word count: 1.1k

a/n: my first enha smut! please be nice to me lmao

one thumb in your mouth as his other hand squeezed around your throat, your breath shortening every few seconds as he would loosen up his grip teasingly. drool escaped the sides of your mouth, moving down your chin to your jawline and slithering down your chest. the sight of you in the mirror caused the corner of jungwon’s lips to turn into a smirk, his ego increasing with each stifled moan that left your mouth. he knew he was the only person who could make you feel this good, the only person who could make you get on his knees and open wide; and you knew that too, all too well.

whenever you so much as tried to turn away, there was his free hand cupping your cheeks to force you to face straight ahead. “look in the mirror,” he growled, his lips grazing the tip of your ear. “look how pretty of a slut you are for me.” followed by a slap to your ass, earning a choked out yelp from you.

the feeling of your tongue swirling around his thumb made his mind hazy, getting flashbacks from when you would give him head in his dorm room. when you would come over just because you missed him filling up any of your holes, and as your RA how could he ever say no? especially to someone like you. after a long week of midterms, a party was just what he needed to release all of his stress. he just never imagined being gone from it the whole night to please you but, again, who is he to complain?

upon seeing how attractive your RA was at the beginning of your semester, you just knew you had to get with him somehow. but being quite reserved and not good at meeting new people, you weren’t sure about the first steps. but to your surprise, you didn’t have to do much to catch his attention. at the first meeting when he had to introduce himself to everyone in his assigned dorm hall, you would catch him looking directly at you with his small dimples making your heart flutter.

it wasn’t until one late night when you came back to the dorms after a late night class that you both finally spoke- a month after your first meeting. just as you were walking down the hall in your pajama shorts and oversized graphic tee, freshly washed and wet hair, did you see jungwon say goodnight to a crying student who was thanking jungwon for listening to her troubles. the sight made you think: wow, this jungwon guy is really sweet and caring. followed by, yet again, another heart flutter. you just watched the girl scurry down the hall in the opposite direction and turn the corner.

and truth be told: you weren’t wrong about jungwon at all. he was sweet and very caring, and he always made sure you and everyone else in his dorm hall were taken care of (especially you). but when it came to late nights in his solo dorm room, late night drives down to five guys, or even once in the janitor's closet on the third floor, he was someone else entirely. you never expected this embodiment of a sweetheart to be so consensually rough with you, marking up any part of your body where only he would be able to see. or sometimes on your neck or collarbone so he could pass by when your friends were asking so who did you have over last night? knowing damn well it was only him you had eyes for.

jungwon knew your body well at this point, he knew when you were almost there but not quite yet. wanting to fasten the pace, he brought his hand from your mouth to your clit. the warm sensation of your saliva dripping from his thumb to your nub made you gasp out in pleasure, earning a squeeze from the hand still wrapped around your throat as his hips crashed deeper into yours from behind. your moans became faster and higher in pitch, signaling a close release. as you clenched around jungwon, you felt the familiar sensation at the bottom of your stomach.

“i’m so close.” you spoke when he loosened his grip again, meeting his eyes in the mirror. they were dark, full of lust- not an ounce of innocence was seen like the one you had witnessed for the first time months ago.

“not yet.” his voice was deep as he trailed kisses on your neck, his fingers picking up the pace on your clit as the other moved from your throat to cup your right breast. “hold on a little longer for me.”

a deep groan vibrated against your neck, making you clench around him once more. jungwon was so close, too. but for some reason your moans were still so quiet, too quiet for his liking. “whyre you so quiet, baby? don’t want everyone to know who’s fucking you right?”

you shook your head slightly, letting out a little louder moan before responding “i don’t, want to, get caught.” the pauses between your words signaled you were trying your hardest to hold back your orgasm- and all for him, too.

jungwon pounded into you harder as his fingers continued their movements on your clit, his moans pouring out of him like a waterfall. “let everyone know who’s making you feel so good. don’t be shy, baby- fuck.”

the last word was nearly yelled as he felt you release onto him, your juices squirting all over his carpeted floor and dripping down his leg. just as you released, he did as well. his hot seed hit you in all the right places, causing a shiver to run down your spine and the overwhelming pleasure to make your mind fuzzy for a few moments. it wasn’t until you felt jungwon start pulling out of you that you had a realization.

big widened eyes, you turn around wobbling to face your friends with benefits. “i didn’t come when you told me to-“

you were shut up with a quick kiss, jungwon smiling against your lips as he felt your saliva still at the corner of your lips. pulling away, he slides his hand down your hips and stops at your inner thigh. “it’s okay, you can make it up to me next time.” he looks down to see you dripping with his cum, catching some on his fingers and pushing it back inside of you- earning a quiet moan.

smirking, you grab the back of his head and crash his lips on yours unexpectedly. the way his lips synced with yours so perfectly drove you crazy; you could never get enough of them and his taste. you just hoped that he stayed your RA for the rest of your college years, because this? you could never get sick of.

#☀︎ woniechronicles works #enhypen #enha #enha smut #enhypen smut #enhypen jungwon #jungwon #enha jungwon #jungwon smut #enhypen hard thoughts #enha hard hours #enhypen hard hours

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whalesforhands · 1 year ago

Text

life never looked so bleak without you (alhaitham x reader)

warnings: reposted from my old acc cause i miss this fic, some parts might not make sense because you need context from the original fic, but can be read as standalone.

11k+ words

if you liked it, maybe i’ll migrate the fic here? haha comment and reblog pls, i don’t bite

log #1

age 3

“Welcome home, honey!” You bounced as you spun around from the makeshift ‘kitchen’. Made from corrugated cardboard and sheets of coloured paper, it was your dream household.

Which was apparently a self-heating kitchen where the oven could fry, bake, boil and cut all your food. The ‘bedroom’ consisted of a blanket draped over two chairs with the throw pillows from the couch thrown in to maximize comfort. Lastly, you had taken to using the plastic chairs and table as your main ‘dining table’. (“Haitham we can’t be married if we don’t eat together at the same table everyday!”)

(Haitham had helped you spell all the signs.)

Walking into your shared ‘home’, Alhaitham pulled out a chair and silently sat down, leaving the stuffed bear that was meant to be his ‘work bag’ by a leg of the small plastic table. Though, his eyes never left the words in the book were trailing over.

“I’m home.”

You excitedly scurried over to the ‘dining table’, in your hands held a plate of freshly cut zaytun peaches and apples. (With the help of Granny, you acquired real food for your play dinner.)

Making sure the table was clear of leftover colour pencils and paper, you gingerly placed the plate down in front of your distracted ‘husband’ before moving to sit down across from him.

Alhaitham reaches forth to grab a slice of the fruit, eyes still focused on his book all before he felt a sharp sting on his fingers. His eyes connected with yours as he saw your pointed gaze, “Haitham,” you whine, “How could you try to touch the food without washing your hands?”

About to make a retort about how he was already very clean, you continued your pouting.

”And what husband keeps getting distracted by his books? His partner will definitely be very lonely!” With a puff of your cheeks you turn away from him, he was so not being a good husband like in the books!

Alhaitham froze. You were right. He promised to be a good play husband so that you would stop giving that book your undivided attention, and focus solely on him.

Now that he’s grown complacent, with how much you’ve played this game, will you get mad and make him play the family dog?

No. He can’t have that! (He likes playing the part of your husband the most. You call him ‘honey’ and ‘sweetie’ and it makes him warm inside.)

”I-I’m sorry, dear. I will make it up to you.”

(“Granny, granny! What kind of names do married people call each other?”

The old woman paused in her steps, holding the lid of the pot of curry in midair. Letting out a chuckle at the glittering eyes facing her. “Hmm, well my children, aren’t you a little young to be married?” Placing the lid down and giving her curry a stir, she pondered over your question a little.

Clutching Alhaitham’s small hand in your own little ones, you raised it towards Granny.

”Nope! We’re already holding hands, so we’re all ready and set to be married, you see!” You let a huge smile grace your adorable face as you gently tugged Alhaitham towards you.

”Aren’t you both simply adorable! Come here, I’ll teach you how to spell some sweet nicknames for married couples!” Granny definitely had some sweet nicknames in mind for her just as, if not sweeter darlings.)

On the makeshift kitchen, hung a small list of cute pet names for each other. (Some were ‘accidentally’ written twice by a certain silver haired boy so that you would repeat them more often.)

Ah. But there your dearest Haitham goes yet again, speaking words that you both hadn’t learnt on the list.

“Ah? You’ll make… it up to me? Haitham! I don’t like liars!”

“No! It means I’ll do something nice and extra special for you so that you won’t be mad at me.” He let out a puff of annoyance as he crossed his arms.

”Really?! That sounds so nice! What are you gonna do for me?” You placed your plastic ladle on the kitchen ‘counter’, ensuring that it didn’t fall before hurrying over to his side to receive your ‘extra special’ gift.

Alhaitham thought for a small moment. He could give you a larger portion of his Padisarah Pudding today. Though, that might not work out. You were prone to feeding him even larger bites of your own pudding, citing that whenever Alhaitham leaned in towards your spoon, he looked ‘cute’.

He could read more of your storybooks with you? Though, you usually get a little huffy when he didn’t understand why the prince would trek through such dangerous trails to kiss a princess that’s been asleep for hundred of years.

Oh. That struck a chord in his brain. He knows what to do now.

Alhaitham got on one knee before you, his little legs stumbling a little as he tried to keep his balance. He fixed his hair, and straightened out his clothing as you looked on with a curious, bright gaze.

You were basically bouncing in place. You recognized the position he was getting in! It was the pose many princes were described to be in when meeting the princess! Ahhhh! (Though you would expect your prince to be a little taller. And wielding a powerful sword as he arrives on a white stallion. But Haitham will do for now.)

Gingerly, Alhaitham grabbed hand, tenderly bringing your soft, chubby hand towards his face. Placing his lips on your knuckles, he produced a soft chu!

His chubby cheeks brightened at what he had just done. (But it’s worth it. For you.)

You on the other hand, were speechless. You thought you’d be accepting the kiss with calm graciousness and elegance, but for some reason, your heart was absolutely soaring.

Weird.

You’ve learned that princesses don’t only take, they also give. And give you will.

You grinned at the kneeling boy, retracting your hand and bending downwards towards his forehead. Clasping his squishy cheeks in your arms, you placed a soft peck on his forehead.

”This is your thank you in return my prince!” You released his face. “You are hereby forgiven and can have another chance of being a good husband!”

Yep. If Alhaitham wasn’t already red before, he definitely was now.

(Granny was watching all this unfold whilst sipping tea. You’d make a wonderful future in-law, if she could say so herself.)

(She hoped that you will continue to stay with that stoic grandchild of hers. The reactions you get out of him were absolutely precious.)

——

log #2

age 16

Granny’s library was a haven. Within the confinements of this small room, was the sanctuary of two friends who basked in presence of each other. A place to escape their responsibilities, a place to be simply and unapologetically be themselves.

Their special spot, that has subconsciously rooted itself into their hearts and never to be forgotten. From the tall shelves holding collections of academic journals, dictionaries and encyclopedias to the small exchanges between the two who have made this area their own.

In a quaint corner of the room, there sat an old, rustic piano. Once belonging to Alhaitham’s father, it was constantly played by to serenade the object of his affection, surrounding her form with a sweet melody he had created just for her ears to hear.

Unfortunately, it has been more than a decade since then. The piano had long lost its shine, covered in dust with its strings deteriorated from years of neglect. Granny did not have the heart to get rid of it, giving Alhaitham free will to do what he wished with it. Though, he did not care much for it.

Until today.

Watching your door from his window, Alhaitham let a smile unknowingly crawl onto his face as he strode over to the door, hand clasping around the doorknob and turning before pulling it open.

Your fist froze mid-air, you pouted at the male.

”How did you know I was coming?!”

Now, sat upon the dusty piano stool, you rubbed at your nose, trying to clear away the particles that had caused the red, irritable itch to rise from it.

”We should have cleaned it first.” Alhaitham sat next to you, fingers trailing over the keys of the old piano as he watched you struggle with the presence of the very dust. “I’ll go get you my handker-“

”No! Stay! I’m too excited to wait any longer!”

You had always seen the old piano stashed away in the corner of your favourite room. It definitely intrigued you, leading to you dragging Haitham over to have a better look at it. You needed his approval, it belonged to his family after-all. (And his discerning eye for safety in case you were going to accidentally break something.)

Sat upon the piano’s music stand, was an old, worn journal. Embossed on the leather cover was a small, silver heart. Reminiscent of Alhaitham’s silver hair. You gingerly picked it up, gently flipping through the pages as Alhaitham watched over your shoulder.

“Haitham…! This is… This is your parents’ sheet music!”

“I see.” Alhaitham, having grown up entirely under his grandmother’s care, did not exactly feel any emotions pertaining to his parents. He simply did not grow any attachment to them, since he was far too young when they passed. So seeing the remnants of their existence did not send him into an emotional spiral, just left him feeling neutral.

You, on the other hand, mistook his nonchalance for melancholy. You patted his shoulder, grinning.

”I’ll play it for you! Just… Give me a few weeks! And, um, lend me this book? Please?”

How could he ever say no to those eyes you gave him? Granny sure would not mind either.

So here you sat on the piano stool now, having practiced for a mere four days. You had limited knowledge in music, having been pressured to learn some basic piano by your father when you were far younger.

Unfortunately, you never progressed past the basics, your father being unimpressed with your sheer mediocrity despite having you to practice for hours on end. He ended the piano lessons soon after.

Well, at least you could use your mediocre skill to help make Haitham’s day a little brighter. However, another problem soon arose.

You have only ever played in front of your father and piano teacher. Now, under Haitham’s soft gaze, you felt shy.

“You’re making me nervous, Haitham!” Your eyes were shaky as you faced the piano, dust having long been cleaned up despite your protests that Alhaitham didn’t need to. (His handkerchief was now in your pocket.)

”How did you even play in front of your teacher and father?”

”I don’t know! I just did, okay?”

Alhaitham thought for a moment, before giving you a suggestion. “Close your eyes then.”

”Eh?”

“If you close your eyes, it’s as if I wasn’t here.” He continues, gaze now focused on the piano. “Since you won’t see me looking at you.”

”I only practiced for a while though…! I don’t think I’m good enough to be-“

”I believe in you.”

You went silent. Alhaitham’s praise and affirmations always left you shy.

“Okay… But could you also turn the other way? I feel like I could still feel your gaze since we’re sitting together.”

Alhaitham huffed, “Fine. I don’t need my eyes to hear you play anyway.” And so he turned.

“You know, in my books situations like this usually ended up with the two main characters kissing!” It was an offhand joke to help you loosen up and calm down a little more before you played.

Alhaitham simply looked unimpressed. You giggled and cupped his face, before pressing your fingers to his forehead to smooth out his furrowed brows.

“You’ll get wrinkles, you grumpy old man.”

As you began, Alhaitham had already quietly shifted his body to face you once again. He wouldn’t give up a chance to stare at you with no risk of getting caught, after-all.

He was simply entranced by you. How your hands glided over the keys, how your brows furrowed in concentration, how your hair shone in the light of the setting sun, how beautiful you looked in this moment. He felt something stir within his chest, a soothing comfort paired with a tinge of worry.

What was this? He doesn’t know.

Though, he wouldn’t mind being frozen in time right now. Alas, the sweet, romantic melody filling the air soon came to its final verse.

“I don’t think I did too bad!” A proud look of satisfaction crossing your features as you faced him, expecting his back to be turned to you.

You had disregarded the existence of close proximity.

An accidental brushing of lips between the two friends sitting by the piano, three seconds of contact and a multitude of mushy emotions springing forth within their longing hearts. Is this what all those characters felt in your books?

Hastily, you both pulled away from each other as your hands came up to clasp themselves over your mouth. You could feel the heat emanating from your face through your palms, eyes wide and shock filling your eyes as you tried to comprehend the situation.

What just happened? You stupid, stupid fool! Why did you not watch where you were turning? That romance book comment was meant as a joke! Oh, what cruel archon is forcing you to play it out with your one and only dearest friend?! You shouldn’t have sat so close to him in the first place!

But… You kind of liked it.

But what if he didn’t like that? What if he thinks less of you now?

Just because of one kiss?

Alhaitham was faring no better.

His eyes had glossed over, mouth slightly agape in genuine shock and surprise as his gaze was stuck on you. Red tipped his ears as he tried desperately to find reason and use his prided logic to regain his senses. He could not.

Overloaded by the intimate feeling of brought about from the kiss you shared. For the first time, Alhaitham had completely blanked out. His fingers gingerly placed themselves on his lips, he could feel the phantom texture of your kiss lingering on them.

He wanted more.

You were both no stranger to physical contact, considering your clingy self. Hands grazing each other as you walked next to each other, heads resting on shoulders when either of you get tired, and even that one time Alhaitham had kissed the back of your hand when you were both younger to act as your prince. (Because “Princes are gentlemen who greet princesses like that!”)

Yet, this was so similar, yet so entirely different to the feelings you both felt when it came to your casual, frequent acts of intimacy.

You both sat in awkward silence for a full minute.

You had imagined your first kiss to be far more romantic, on a starlit night as you gazed into your faceless lover’s eyes, hands holding their face in your hands as they grasped your hips, pulling you closer to their form. They would’ve whispered sweet nothings into your ear, leaving sweet kisses starting from your forehead, down to your nose and both cheeks before their eyes would settle on your lips.

They would whisper another soft “I love you…” into your skin, before they would lean in and finally hav-

You were broken away from your thoughts when Alhaitham’s face was once again in close proximity with yours. Hand gently gripping your wrist and pulling you closer to him, “Can we… Do that again?”

The sheer desperation and raw want in his eyes caused you to fluster, and left you speechless. You could only close your eyes as your lips were once again captured by his, melting into the kiss.

Thus began the beginnings of a your crush on your dearest friend.

——

log #3

age 17

You would describe yourself as a simple person. You were okay with taking things slowly, simply going with the flow.

You were okay with the thought of living a simple life within Sumeru city, in a neat little apartment close to your workplace, where you work a regular 9 to 5, before buying groceries from the nearby market and cooking dinner at home 6 times a week and buying takeout as a treat.

You were okay with delegating weekends to be the cleaning days. The days specifically for laundry, dishwashing and general housekeeping.

You were okay with it. It’s not like you hated the thought of it or anything. If nothing else, you’d even say you would love to have that kind of life, especially if there was a romantic partner in the picture.

“You know, I don’t really know what I really even want to do in the future.” You smile, propping yourself up on your elbows as you lifted your eyes, averting from the boring textbook in front of you.

“Planning for your future already? How thoughtful of you.” The dry response from Alhaitham came quietly, attesting to your environment. In a quiet corner of the Akademiya’s library you both sat, Alhaitham having buried his nose in The Law of Elemental Reactions, by his side sat a stack of just as daunting book titles, your eyes quickly scanning the ones he’s picked out.

‘Academic Infringements of Rights, Case Studies of Anthropological Sites, Cultivation of-‘

Alhaitham was smart, and that is a given fact. Though even you get tuckered out from trying to absorb the entirety of one of those books, let alone the towering stack Alhaitham had picked out.

Noticing your gaze, he responded. “These are to simply pass the time as I wait for you.”

“W-What? You don’t have to wait for me,” Your voice lowered to a whisper as you caught the glare of a librarian burning into the back of your head. “I don’t think I’ll be done anytime soon…”

You, as a responsible student of the Haravatat Darshan, had completely lost your translation essay.

You dug through your haversack over and over, stress rearing its ugly head as you felt your heart sink to the bottom of your chest.

“No… No, this can’t be…” You were devastated. Absolutely downcast. You threw your bag to the floor as you rummaged through, anxiety-induced tears quietly gathering at the corner of your eyes.

You spent a lot of time on that paper. Within your lecture, each student had been assigned a new foreign language to translate a script of text into. It was worth at least a third of your grade for this semester. And you were almost 100% sure you had filed it away safely into the confines of your bag.

You were anxious, starting to hyperventilate. Your breaths quickened as your heartbeat sped up. “Hai-Haitham, hah…” You fell onto your knees. Your head was pounding.

Why, oh why? Oh Greater Lord Rukkhadevata, you will pray everyday to her if it means finding this essay. If it means that you won’t fail, if it means you won’t disappoint yourself, if it means you won’t disappoint Father, if it means you won’t be seen as incompetent by Al-

“I found it.” Handing you your essay, he helped you up to your feet, gently grabbing your forearms and guiding you up as your eyes brightened up, face drooping in exuberant relief as you grabbed onto Alhaitham for support.

”You did?! Where was it?!” Your relief was, however, soon betrayed as your eyes scanned the text.

This wasn’t your paper.

”Alhaitham… This… It’s due tomorrow, Haitham, you can’t-“

”No. This is yours. Take. It.” Alhaitham took your hands to grip around the essay, his own hands clasping over your own. “I’m more than exemplary when it comes to grades, I’m sure you’ll do well.”

“Haitham…” Your eyes glazed over with tears as you threw your hands around him. Crying into his chest as you both stood in his bedroom, his arms wrapped tight around you as his hand stroked your back soothingly.

“Thank you so much. Thank you. I love you. I love you so much Haitham.” Your eyes begin to water even more as you looked into those softened teal-orange ones.

“But you know that I would never accept this.” Your hands reach to cup his face, bringing him down to your eye-level. “Haitham,” You sigh. “You are very smart.”

”That means nothing to me.”

You chuckle. “For such a smart man, I wouldn’t think that you would give up your very own work for me.” Your thumbs smooth over the skin under his eyes. He could only stay silent as he relishes in your touch. Another whispered ‘thank you’ before you place a gratitude-filled peck upon his cheek.

His heart skips a beat.(He hopes you didn’t feel that.)

“I’ll redo it myself, Haitham.”

“Then, do allow me to help.”

(He followed you to the library.)

Thus, an all-nighter was pulled.

(You treated Haitham to a drink of his choice, to the point of even stealing his wallet away when he attempted to sneakily pay for the both of you.)

You were always thankful for the good health you were blessed with. Despite not being the most physically fit scholar, you would argue that you were one of the healthiest.

‘Healthy’ in a sense that you barely ever got sick.

Alhaitham on the other hand, was a whole different story. Growing up, your poor Haitham always had had a weak body constitution, easily catching illnesses and catching common colds left right and center despite his sanitary precautions.

You would be glum on the days where he was declared bedridden and too ill to leave the house by Granny, often sending over pots of homemade congee and herbal broths stemming from Liyuen recipes over in hopes of helping him recover sooner.

(Granny refused to let you into the house. “What if you caught Haitham’s nasty cold?!”)

“The ‘Get-well-soon’ bouquet was unnecessary. Spending mora on such unneeded expenses is only going to put a bigger hole in your wallet.” Pulling your cheeks as he grumbled on and on about your waste of precious expenses on him, that you could’ve saved up money for something you would prefer, that he should’ve been the one to buy-

What was that last sentence? You didn’t catch that under all the pain.

“Haithammmmm, thawt hurtssss!” You whine as you let him continuously pinch and pull at your face. It didn’t actually hurt of course, you were just trying to lighten up your grumpy friend. “And of cworse you nweed flowers, Haithwam!” Placing your hands over the ones settled on your face, you held them in place. “Plus, I read once that men only receive flowers for the first time when it’s their funeral! Totally blasphemous if you ask me, so don’t worry Haitham! I’ve prevented that from happening!”

Why were you so goddamn cute? With a face as stoic as ever, but ears burning red at the tips, Alhaitham just continued his abuse on your squishy face.

”Nwoooooo, stop! I won’t hwave mwy cheeks anymworeeeee!”

However, in this situation, you have no one to blame other than yourself. Staying late after school within the Akademiya’s library to catch up with lectures you totally didn’t understand with Alhaitham, you had both just finished a progressive study session when the sky soon darkened.

Uh oh. Silly little you forgot your umbrella. Again. Good going, champ.

“You should’ve checked the weather forecast.” Alhaitham pulled out a sleek, dark green umbrella. It was plain, with no designs on it to set it apart from other umbrellas if he ever lost it.

(Not that he will, but you wholeheartedly believe that even your ever responsible Haitham will mess up one day!)

It greatly contrasted the pastel one you owned, with its cute designs and bright colours, you could easily identify it even when it has been stolen!

(Not that that would matter now, considering you had gone and left it at home.)

”So….” You cleared your throat, fixing your green beret and dusting off your clothes as you faced Alhaitham with glittering eyes. “Remember that time you made me cry when we were younger?”

”Guilt-tripping, huh? What exactly rubbed you the wrong way today?” A smirk on his face as he looked down upon you.

“Oh? Nothing much, just that my prince in shining Akademiya robes has yet to save me from this dreadful rain! Oh, when will a savior wielding a mighty umbrella come to my aid!” Your hand flew to your forehead for dramatic effect, as you slumped against a pillar.

”And I’ll give you a massage.”

”Deal.”

The walk back was eventful, full of chatter and laughter on your end. You would point out the highlights of your day, the fight to stay awake in class, what you had for lunch-

Despite you pointing out all little details you noticed throughout your day, you failed to notice wet shoulder Alhaitham was getting. He leaned the umbrella closer towards you, ensuring that you were dry, protecting you from the rain. He didn’t care that he was getting wet, as long as you were comfortable.

(How didn’t you notice that sooner?)

A sneeze caused Alhaitham to bolt from his lying position on the bed. Dressed down in his shirt and boxers, he was in absolute hell. His body was cold when out of the duvet, but when he huddled under it, he was feeling far. Too. Hot.

He drank another sip of water. Granny wouldn’t be able to be back until evening. He had to get through this. He could. But why does everything ache? Why does your hand soothe him so much when you place it against his forehead?

”Haitham… I’m so sorry…! I should’ve noticed your robes were getting wet-!” You were feeling so, so guilty.

“No… It’s not, ack, your fault.” Alhaitham sniffled out. Oh, how he wishes Granny hadn’t called you over to take care of him. He looks far from the capable, stoic version of his usual self.

Archons, this was embarrassing.

”Wait- Do you- do you want me to leave? You are absolutely burning up, please go to sleep, Haitham…!” Your whisper-yelled, removing your hand from his forehead. “I’ll go make you some of my congee, you haven’t eaten today.”

”You… You’re leaving?”

”Hm? To make you some food, Haitham.” You continued to whisper, moving off the seat to begin your trek to the kitchen.

”…don’t go… Stay…” His hand reached out from under the sheets, grasping the air for you.

Oh, archons. Alhaitham was so cute when he was sick.

You pet his hair, holding his hand and soothing him to close his eyes.

”Hehe, it’ll only be for a little while, Haitham.”

”You’ll… Come back?” His usually deep voice was now so soft sounding, so gentle. Like he would break if you even prodded him too much.

”Of course,” You cooed. “I’ll be back real soon.”

Alhaitham awoke to the smell of ginseng. You sat at his bedside, a serving tray placed upon his desk as you held a serving bowl in your hands.

“Hello, Haitham” You murmured gently. “I’m back, as promised. Can you eat?”

Yes. He could eat. He was absolutely starving, but, he was also feeling weak. Feeling weak means he had lost his inhibitions temporarily, the logic holding back his heart’s desire has been unlocked.

His eyes glanced towards you, donning Granny’s pink apron as you held a bowl out towards him.

”…Feed me.” What in Teyvat was wrong with him? What did he just request?! He was almost a grown man- He can feed himself-!

“Ohhhh! You’re so demanding and needy when you’re sick! Of course, Haitham!”

He was mentally fighting himself the first time the spoon gently prodded at his lips, eyes averting themselves quickly to avoid your sweet gaze as he opened his mouth, taking the first bite. Each spoonful was fed to him with so much love and care. Your cooing after he successfully finished the bowl had him feeling warm and mushy inside. Alhaitham adjusted himself against the pillow, breaths getting less heavy as he felt more energy return to him.

Pressing the back of your palm against his forehead as you leaned in closer, you attempted to gauge his current body temperature.

Archons. You were so incredibly close to him. Please stay right here. Stay close to him. Keep your hand on him. Keep watching him. Only him.

”Oh, it’s definitely went down now! Congrats, Alhaitham, you’re getting better!” You attempted to pull away, to create more distance between you and your crush.

He pulled you onto the bed with him. Encircling you in his arms, his grip tightened.

”…Stay.”

Oh my archons. If this was how he usually acted when sick, you never want him to get better.

You sit up, still having his arms wrapped around your waist. You grab his face, slightly pinching the red cheeks. (Was this red from his fever or was he just blushing? He won’t ever let you know.)

”Haitham, I’ll get sick too, you know.”

”Then… You can spend more time with me here…”

Oh. Oh. So cute. Your heart really was gonna burst.

”Are you sleepy, Haitham?”

”Mmm…” His grip around you loosened a little.

”Then go to sleep. I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

”…Promise?”

”Promise!” You interlaced your fingers with his. “I’ll keep holding your hand like this to let you ensure that I’m here.”

(Alhaitham woke up with you huddled into his chest. The lights were off and you had a blanket draped over you.)

(Granny definitely saw the both of you.)

——

log #4

age 21

Operation: Get Alhaitham to forgive you for being a horrible person!

Honestly, the guilt has been eating at you since you’ve been ‘forgiven’ by him. On what basis did you even deserve this?

None. You were simply a terrible person throughout, running from your issues and using the ones the cared about you most.

At least you were self-aware.

(As if that was enough for someone to forgive you for all the bad you’ve done.)

You sighed, poking at your Aaru mixed rice as you thought about ideas.

Monetary gifts of high value? No, his salary is way higher than yours, and he could definitely afford whatever he wants at any given moment.

Apologetic flowers? Sure, but he’s already been giving you bouquet after bouquet of flowers every week.

(Strangely, these bouquets have an unusual assortment of flowers within them. Mixed with sweet flowers, cecilias, padisarahs and dandelions and even more. It was definitely a strange assortment.

Upon questioning the strange arrangement, Alhaitham’s ears were bright red as he tried to keep a straight face.

“I… Ahem. I grew them.” He coughed out, averting his gaze towards the now stupendously intriguing sentence he had been rereading ever since you walked into fray.

”…how did you grow so many all at once…? Sumeru’s climate is suitable for most species of flowers- but regional specific ones like these dandelions are-

He coughs yet again, or it sounded more like he desperately trying to clear his throat?

His brilliant mind could come up with a million different excuses. Oh, he picked them while on a short trip to the forest. A florist was having a clearance sale on their flowers. Kaveh had a few spare flowers leftover from his next project-

He could go on and on, but when it’s you, he blanks out. Plus, being honest with you was one of the key factors to being a good future partner, no matter the shame that came along with it.

“My- Vision. The flowers popped up whenever I thought of you.” His hand latched over his mouth as he felt his face grow hot. “I… Thought it was only appropriate for me to gift them to the one who occupies my mind.”

Now you were the one blushing, a moment of vulnerability of Alhaitham’s had turned into yours. How does he be so smooth with his words?

“Oh… That’s… That’s really cute… Thank you.”)

There was no way you could match up to that level of thoughtfulness behind your own bouquets.

Should you offer him your bod- No. You slap your own cheeks, startling the silver-haired man sitting before you as you attempted to come back to your senses.

“Are you okay? I would advise you against hitting your own face. I am not comfortable with seeing you hurt.”

His reaction was immediate, hand reaching forth to stroke your red cheeks, his eyebrows furrowed in worry as his gaze of concern pierced directly into your heart.

Oh, Archons save you.

Was it possible for you to get so red you’ll explode? Possibly. Alhaitham was so handsome that it was hard to even function properly with those eyes staring directly at you.

You immediately darted your eyes away, taking great interest in your food as your eyes flitted towards his own, half-eaten sandwich.

Was that all he was having today? For such a large man, he sure is holding back today. Usually, you’d see him eating much larger portions of protein to supplement the sheer muscle mass he possessed.

Your eyes looked between his food and your own.

An idea. An idea that required a great deal of your nonexistent confidence.

“Um- Alhaitham…?”

”Hmm?” He replied, eyes still concentrated on your red cheeks as his fingers grazed your soft skin, attempting to soothe the irritated red patches.

“Would you um-, like some of my food?” The last few words got stuck in your throat, barely audible to the man had he not have been listening so intently to you.

His eyes widened in surprise, heart momentarily skipping a beat. Are you kidding him? Of course, yes! Yes! He would love to eat some of your food, especially if-

“No, my food is perfectly adequate for my dietary needs.”

Oh. Mission failed. Better luck next time? Your shoulders visibly slumped at your failure of a plan, a frown slowly etching onto your face as you fought to show a smile.

Ah. You should’ve known.

- -

Internally, Alhaitham was tearing at locks of his hair in frustration. He had said that out of habit, out of pure instinct.

Many a times had some of his colleagues invited him out for a small lunch gathering, despite his slightly frustrated rejections, they managed to slip him into their group outings once or twice.

And more often than not, female and male colleagues alike would notice how attractive the stoic scribe was. Seeing him from afar was not thing, but sitting up close to him? A whole different standard of beauty was met.

From the tight shirt obscured by his coat hiding the ripples of muscle underneath, his attractive facial structure and his gorgeously intense eyes all paired off with his apathetic nature shrouded him in mystery.

And anyone would have to be the world’s most deceitful, blind or a decent mixture of both to say that was not attractive in the least.

However, upon attempting to grow closer to the scribe, he would shut himself off, giving curt, blunt answers to keep a respectable distance between the individual attempting to curry his favour. Be it man or woman, Alhaitham was unfazed to their less than savory methods of subtle seduction, telling them to knock it off at point blank or physically removing himself from the situation when they grated too much on his thinning patience.

But you.

You were different. You weren’t a stranger. You weren’t annoying to him in the slightest. Sure, your attempts at trying to flirt with him can only be described as plain awkward, but you certainly had your charm. You were no longer trying to avoid him.

His eyes followed you, internally devastated at himself for denying your offering.

(You could’ve been feeding him right this moment if he hadn’t had that stupid, stupid habit ingrained into him.)

He needs to fix this. Now.

He coughs, marking the page swiftly and tucking the book away as his arms laid on the table.

“I suppose- A small bite wouldn’t hurt.”

Your body straightened in an instance, happily scooping a hearty serving as you moved to pass the spoon into the scholar’s hand. To your surprise, he grabbed at your arm, maneuvering the utensil to land in his mouth. (With you still holding it?!?)

Wha-What? Did you just- Feed… him?

Alhaitham had soon manually removed your spoon, due to you being, frankly, too stunned to move. That hot blush encompassing your entire face to the tips of your ears had made it obvious to his effects on you.

And Alhaitham was proud of it. No longer did he feel embarrassed having done that, if that flustered you, it was all worth it.

He chewed, swallowing the rather tasty morsel of food in his mouth.

“Delicious. Though, I suppose you should add more chili flakes next time.”

Getting a taste of your cooking will always be the best treat to him.

- -

Phase 2! Show something heartfelt to prove your sincerity!

What could possibly be more sincere than making the scribe handmade treats? He seemed to enjoy the bites of your lunch you would give him sometimes, so what harm could possibly come from this?

You stirred and mixed, going by pure instinct and feeling for your little baking escapade. Though, one extra thing you would need to make the perfect pastry would be one simple thing: love.

You had an abundance of it, keeping the ones you adored close to your heart.

But… Alhaitham- Or, your Haitham was- is different. Your relationship was blurring the lines between close friends and an actual couple, the only barrier being your hesitance, your fear.

You didn’t like getting hurt. And sweet Alhaitham, he had always been patient. Waiting for you, promising you that he would always be right by your side.

You didn’t know if the ‘love’ you felt for him was those akin to the sweet sappy childhood first love, or the sensual satisfaction he could bring you. You knew, knew you were being selfish, making him wait like this.

But, but, but. Your deepest desire was only to embrace him, allow him to feel all these overflowing feelings from your chest whenever you were around him. Hoping, praying he would help you understand all these unsaid emotions.

- -

Maybe giving him treats was a mistake. You watched Alhaitham sigh as he lugged a small paper bag of treats onto one of his couches. Grimacing at the sheer amount of assorted treats falling out of the bag.

Hiding the the caneles that you had baked behind you, you peeked your head out from the corner.

”What’s with all the treats?”

Alhaitham held his head, plopping onto his sofa as he slumped into the soft cushions.

“Some of the younger students of the Akademiya gave them to me today.”

Oh. Maybe you shouldn’t have baked today afterall.

“Are you going to… Y’know- Eat them?”

He pondered your question momentarily. “I suppose it would be rude not to.” He paused, turning to look at you. “Care to join me?”

“Ah- I wouldn’t- I’m kinda… Busy right now?”

Alhaitham scrutinized you, and the way you were nervously shifting around, hands held behind your back.

”What’s wrong?”

”Huh? Uh… Nothing?”

”Something is clearly wrong if you’re being so shifty. Are you holding something?”

”No!” Ah, ah, ah. Lying is bad. “Okay- Fine, yes.”

You timidly scooted over to the couch, presenting your neatly wrapped, cute little pack of baked treats.

“I… Made this for you today…” You shyly stuttered out, before quickly trying to retract your hands.

”But! Since you already have so many- Let me just-“ You sheepishly tried to pull them away, but the ‘feeble’ scholar, with unnaturally fast reflexes, caught your hands, gently tugging the bag away and into his hands.

”I’ll eat them.”

”You don’t have to if you don’t want to-“

He wasn’t listening, already undoing the cute ribbon and taking a rather large bite out of your creation. You sunk down onto the couch beside him, observing him as he chewed and tasted it.

“So… How is it?”

Alhaitham remained silent, only to continuously eat your baking. He absolutely inhaled your creation, leaving not even a single crumb left, as you looked on, shocked.

”It was wonderful. Thank you.”

- -

Phase 3! Uh… Apologise?

”I’m sooo sorry!” You cried into his shoulder.

Currently, you were sat snugly upon Alhaitham’s lap, his arms cradling your drunken form as you weeped your apologies into his shoulder.

”I-I’m such a bad friend! I hurt you so much!” You sniffled even more, crying as your arms wrapped around the man’s shoulders.

You had both agreed to drink together within the confines of his home. Never did the scribe expect for you to be such a… Lightweight.

One glass in, you words were starting to slur.

Another glass was all it took for you to suddenly climb onto him, straddling him as you stared so sultrily into his eyes before you-

Broke down in tears?

He awkwardly patted at your back.

You haven’t been so close to him so… willingly before. It felt nice.

”I wanna say sorry… Did I say sorry…? I’m sorry, Haitham!”

”You don’t have to apologise, I’ve already-“ Pause. His eyes snapped towards your clouded ones. “What did you just call me…?”

You smiled, bright, cheerful and full of adoration. “Haitham…?”

Oh. Oh no. His heart was going to implode on itself.

“Haithammmmm!! Why are you so red?! You look like- hic! A cute little hic- Harra fruit… hehe!”

You continuously shifted around on his lap, pulling and poking at his face as you giggled and ruffled his hair. “You’re sooooo squishy!”

“(name). I implore you… Please stop moving around so much…”

”You’re not- Hic! Squishy enough yetttt!” You pinched at his cheeks, leaving a kiss on his forehead as you continued your alcohol-riddled goal of ‘teddyifying’ the scribe, to make him more suitable for cuddles.

Should he hold you down…? If he did, the growing ‘problem’ would become too large to handle.

His hands hesitantly shifted up to hold your hips. This was the lesser of the two evils.

You pouted, hands halting in their movements to press at his face.

“Oh? Hugs?” You were in gleeful bliss.

”Hugs!” You unceremoniously wrapped your arms around the man, holding him close, holding him tight. Directly pressing his face into your chest due to your positioning.

You were going to be the death of him.

Operation: Success?

——

log #-

age ???

“Hm…”

You hummed, tracing your fingers over taut skin of your boyfriend’s chest, whilst your lips were kept busy, kissing over the corners of his mouth. Sitting in his lap, you were over the moon at being given the chance to be able to feel him up.

On the morning of the weekend, you had bounded over to the lax man that was sitting upright in his bed, book in his hands and earpieces, surprisingly, not slotted into his ears. It was a rarity that his roommate, Kaveh would be out of the house. As such, Alhaitham could enjoy a few hours of peace and quiet, listening only to the sounds of your tittering around his home, and calling out his name oh so sweetly as you call him over to the kitchen to sample the lunch you were making as you fed him with your chopsticks or spoon fed him some soup.

(“So is it any good?”

“Anything you make is good, dear. Delicious as always.”

You puffed out your cheeks in annoyance. “Haitham! I won’t ever improve my cooking if all you do is compliment me!”

“It is actually delicious, my de-“

A pout coupled with narrowed eyes. Another scoop poured into the small serving dish held out towards him.

He takes another taste.

“A little more salt would suffice, darling.”)

Alhaitham is adamant on making you stay over as often as he can to spend more time with you. On nights, he would ensure that he was distracting you enough with tempting offers of new light novels that had just been released, ‘pretending’ to fall asleep with his arms wound tightly around you, ‘startling’ awake when you would even breathe a little too hard, to playing dirty and tiring you to exhaustion after an intense tumbling in bed.

(He wonders just why you haven’t decided to just move in with him yet.)

You had crawled onto his lap, maybe a bit too excitedly, not noticing that you were brushing over certain, well, more sensitive areas. Comfortably seated upon one of his strong, rather large thigh, your intentions started off rather innocent.

Twirling locks of his hair between your fingers, squishing his face in your hands, leaving kisses trailing from his forehead, to the tip of the nose, to his left cheek, to behind his ear, down to the column of his neck. You were mouthing at his throat, playful and teasing as you kissed and sucked on the exposed skin.

”(name)…” A hand reaches up to hold the back of your head in place, preventing you from going further. “Please,” A sharp intake of air as he felt you leave another kiss. “Stop…” He sounded out in slightly breathy pants, the tips of his ears blushing a bright red as the other hand that had been lazily placed on your hip tightened slightly.

You pouted. “Sorry, Haitham…” Cooing, you stroked his cheek. “You just looked so cute.” You laid your head against his chest, eyes glittering as you stared into his eyes.

You’ve got him entranced, and you knew it. The blush apparent on his face, all the way to the tip of his ears and grimace of fake annoyance on his face confirmed it.

Alhaitham sighs, not being able to resist the look in your eye. He loosened his hold on you, slumping back against the pillow, body going slack. All whilst bringing you down with him.

Now longer on his lap, you were laying directly on top of him. You both let yourselves revel in the moment, physically close and hearts full of adoration and love.

Until Alhaitham felt a hand slide under his shirt, prodding at his chiselled abdomen. Ah. You were starting again.

Your hands felt like they were absolutely everywhere. Squeezing his biceps, trailing over his triceps, down to his hips. Your mouth wasn’t doing innocent either, now knowing that his upper body was off limits, you were entertaining yourself using his pectorals. Biting, and leaving marks littered throughout his built chest.

He felt your hand reach up to squeeze one of his pecs, letting out a slight groan at your touch. You continued to squeeze, a huff of exasperation leaving you. Alhaitham met your eyes, arm now wrapped around your waist, holding you closer to him as he tilted his head in question.

Your brows furrowed. “It’s just,” Hand still on his pec, you squeeze again. “Why do your boobs feel bigger than mine?”

You weren’t looking at him anymore, but you could definitely feel him rolling his eyes at you.

“Dearest, I do not have breasts.”

”Honey, if these aren’t your manboobs,” Another squeeze. “I don’t know what they are.”

He lets out a sigh in defeat. You certainly made the weirdest comments at inappropriate times. You giggle at his baffled self, head now cuddling itself between his pecs.

“I still love them very much, Haitham.”

”More than you love me?”

”Hmm… Depends on the day then. These,” You nuzzle closer into his chest. “These do not leave their books in piles on the floor and cause me to trip.”

Alhaitham brings his arm up to your nape, resting itself over it as the other stays over your waist, just above your posterior. He presses a kiss against your forehead.

”I’ve already apologised, dear.”

”Apologies don’t fix the bruise on my knee.”

Ah, whatever will he do with you. One moment you were kissing all over his body, giving him the love he needs from you, the next you were pouting about his habit of leaving books scattered throughout his home.

You crawl up slightly, wiggling to loosen his hold on you so that you were face to face with him. “How about this, Haitham.” Your hands cup his face. “You make dinner for us and Kaveh tonight,” A kiss to his jaw. “And I’ll forgive you.”

”And you’ll stay the night?” The hopefulness in his voice was so cute.

”Mmhm.”

You leaned forwards for another kiss, this time pressing your lips directly against his as he reciprocated in kind.

——

final log

2:33 am

In your post-coital bliss, you could hardly move. You were laying on your back, bites littering your skin as you heaved from exhaustion. Your back was sore, your legs felt heavy and the various marks left on you were beginning to sting as the high of pleasure wore off.

You whined out in your hoarse voice, doing your best to sit up against the propped up pillow in search of your husband.

Just where was he?

You could swear you felt him supporting your limp body after you had nearly passed out from the ecstasy of pleasure, his hands gripping your hips as his face buried itself into the crook of your neck. His hips were stilled, letting out a groan as he pushed himself against you, trying to get impossibly closer to you as he-

Ugh, you were sore just thinking about it. It wasn’t long before you heard the quiet click of the door, your husband, in his shirtless glory, back decorated with scratches and little marks throughout his neck and chest, while holding a glass of water and a pain relief pill. He knew you needed it.

As you hungrily drank down the glass of water, with Alhaitham supporting your back and holding the glass to your lips for you, he observed your tired form.

“Do you need a shower?”

You shook your head, too fatigued to currently respond with your hoarse voice. He stroked your head, leaving and returning swiftly with a small bowl of warm water and a soft cloth.

He pulled you closer to him, holding your nude form in his lap as he began with your face, and down to your neck, kissing at every mark and bruise he had left during your session.

His breath hitched in his throat, eyes travelling your bruised body as he gently wiped you down, ridding you of the sweat and fluids as your body leaned against him. He gently pushed you back, giving you a sweet kiss to your forehead, to your nose and finally, to your oh so cute, kissable lips.

Pressing his mouth against yours, you tried your best to reciprocate this sudden deep kiss of his. You pulled back, desperate for air as a string of saliva connected your once molding mouths.

A moment passes by as you both stare into each other’s eyes. Unable to resist the lovesick look in your eyes, Alhaitham leaned down to nip at the column of your throat.

“Noooooo…! Ngh, Haitham- Ah! I’m too sore…!”

”Please, darling. Just one more.” A kiss against your cheek. “You look too irresistible right now.”

7:04am

”Stayyyyyy- Don’t leave me, Haitham…”

“Let go. I have to.”

”Noooooooo…! If you love me you’ll stay!”

Alhaitham sighs, “I already skipped my morning workout for you, dear.” He presses a kiss to your forehead as his hands glide across your naked back. So soft, so warm. How could he ever leave the comforts of his bed and embrace of his partner?

Unfortunately, work doesn’t solve itself. (Much to his dismay.) He unlatches himself from you as your hands clawed for the now empty space. He outplayed you.

You pout as you watch your handsome husband search for his work clothes, begrudgingly getting up as well.

At least you can enjoy the view of your husband getting into the shower.

8:12am

“Haitham, you’re going to stain your books.”

“‘’M not, I’m careful.” He retorts with a mumble as he, now carefully places down his mug of bitter coffee and shutting the book after marking the page.

(He knew you were right.)

He takes a bite of the jam-covered toast, nodding his head in appreciation and feeling his heart warm as you set down a plate of sliced zaytun peaches, assembled in a heart shape with an egg done over easy in the middle.

”Thank you, dearest.”

“All for you, honey!” You grin, leaning down and pecking his temple.

His chair scoots ever closer to yours when you settle down with your own plate.

8:31am

Alhaitham hums in content as he feels you place another kiss on his face. His back was hunched, face leaned down to your level as you peppered kiss after kiss on him.

From his hair, to his forehead, his eyes, to his nose, both cheeks-

“You missed a spot.”

“Hmm~? I think you’ve had more than enough now though.” You teased, cupping his face in both your hands as you stared lovingly into equally lovesick teal-orange eyes.

Alhaitham huffs. Brows furrowing as he narrowed his eyes, his hands finding purchase on your hips and pulling you closer towards him.

“‘s not enough…” He mumbled, barely above a whisper as his eyes averted away in bashfulness.

“Haitham, are you pouting?”

”No.” He was now stubbornly trying to turning his head away.

You giggled, before giving in to his demands. Tilting his chin towards you, before peppering his jaw and lips with as many smooches as possible. “Mwah! I’m sorry, mwah, dear! Forgive, mwah, me, okay?”

The red tinted his face, from the tips of his ears to the swell of his cheeks.

“I will if you kiss me again.”

“You’re gonna be late.”

”I’m never late.”

10:47am

And so, here he was, 1 hour and 47 minutes into work. Stacks upon stacks of paperwork. Another bothersome document to read through. Another signature needed.

Another boring day to go through, and another 6 hours and 13 minutes before he could finally get off work and go home to you.

What exactly would you be doing now? Did you go back to sleep? He hopes you were getting enough rest. Perhaps you were cleaning the kitchen with the new cleaner he bought? You’ve been complaining about the stains in the kitchen lately. Or, were you within your shared closet, trying out different outfits? You tended to show him both the bad and good ones you’ve pulled together, giggling and asking for his opinion.

Whatever it was you were up to, it just made him miss you a whole lot more.

12:06am

Lunch time. Another period of free time he looks forward to, where he’s able to pull out a sturdy, sleek green lunchbox that was wrapped in a sickly cute cloth to keep it warm.

He undid the neat little knot at the top, in search of the note you always leave in the lunches you lovingly prepared for him. Alhaitham decides that he definitely won’t make it through the day without your presence.

’Remember to drink more water today!!! I love you Haitham!! More than anything!! And stop frowning, you’ll get wrinkles! I’ll miss you, so come home soon!!’

It was cute. You were cute. The message written was sweet, your name signed at the bottom with various hearts drawn around it. Alhaitham let a smile creep its way onto his face, though he never spoke it, he always replied within his mind.

’I love you too.’

He folded the note and neatly tucked it into his pocket. It was gonna go into his collection. He definitely misses you more now.

5:15pm

”I’m home.” Silence. Alhaitham frowns, setting down his bag by the shoe cabinet as he took off his coat and kicked off his shoes.

The fifteen minutes he took to come home from work was already far too long! How could you not come to see him when all he’s been thinking about all day was you? Alhaitham felt betrayed.

He scoffed, clearing his throat and calling out once again, “I’m home.”

”I’m in the kitchen!” You emerged from the kitchen, not having heard him from the pair of soundproof earpieces lodged in your ear as you placed the pot of curry on the counter.

(A gift from Alhaitham. The earpieces, not the curry.)

“Archons, you won’t die if you aren’t greeted within seconds, Haitham.” You sighed, wrapping your arms around him as you tiptoed to press a chaste kiss to his lips before pulling away.

“I just will if you made me wait that long again.” He pulls you into a searing kiss, arms encircling your waist and pulling you ever closer to him. He reluctantly pulls away, choosing to bury his face into your neck. “I missed you.”

You hummed, stroking his head. “Welcome home, Haitham.”

7:52pm

You waited near the bathroom, ensuring that you heard the sound of the shower starting, before you took your husband’s used clothing from the hamper.

You silently snuck into the laundry room, clothes worn by him today folded into a neat pile that was held right up against your chest.

Cautiously checking that the showering was still running and hadn’t yet stopped, you released a breath you didn’t know that you were holding.

Time for your nightly routine.

You placed the pile down by the laundry counter, holding up his shirt, staring lovingly at it before you closed your eyes and deeply inhaled the scent of your beloved partner.

Don’t get yourself wrong, you had always loved how Alhaitham’s scent, it was clean and refreshing, akin to a forest after a gentle rain shower. It was apparent in places his frequented, the couch, pillows, the clothing in his closet. However, it was something about the potency of the scent after they’ve been worn by him that drew you in, that made you sick with love.

You absolutely loved sniffing his used clothing before you washed them. They smelled divine.

You buried your face into his shirt, cuddling yourself into the article of clothing that had been absorbing his sweat the whole day. Unfortunately for you, you forgot to refill the shampoo today.

”Darling? I think we ran out of- What are you doing?”

You let out a squeak of surprise.

8:34pm

You gently rubbed the towel into his head, trying to wring out the wet droplets from his damp hair. Alhaitham sat upon the edge of your shared bed, eyes scanning the words of his book that was held in his lap as you continued your administrations.

All of a sudden, you stopped. Your arms wrapped around his waist from behind, taking this chance to feel up your muscular husband’s well contoured body. You buried your face into his neck, taking in his smell.

”What? Was the shirt not enough?” A tease. You narrowed your eyes.

”I’m just taking this chance to appreciate my beautiful husband~!”

”Sniffing my sweaty shirts and groping my abdominals are a form of strange appreciation then.” You could just hear the smirk in his voice. Oh, he was never going to let you live your recently discovered secret down.

You weren’t a creature of revenge. You never held grudges against others, nor do you wish suffering upon them. Though, just this once, punishment was in order. Punishment for the sleepless nights he gave you, punishment for making your body sore and punishment for teasing you.

”If you needed my used clothing so bad, I could- OW! Did you just- bite me?”

You had chomped down on the side of his neck, not hard enough to actually hurt, but hard enough to leave the light imprint of your teeth on him.

“Oops! Sorry Haitham, you were just so cute sitting there that you made my cuteness aggression act up!”

10:30pm

You were barely awake, head atop on your husband’s shoulder as you both lay side by side on the bed, blanket lazily draped over your legs as both of your arms were wrapped around one of his.

You weren’t exactly reading the book he held in his hands, but you were watching his face.

Despite his lack of expressions, with eyes glued to his book, lips relaxed in a line and reading glasses atop his nose, he was so cute. You were definitely sure your husband was the most adorable when engrossed in his literature.

And when he would avert his eyes from the words to meet your own gaze? That smile he would give you as he leaned down to kiss your forehead? Perfect. Your husband was arguably, if not, the best in the world.

(In your opinion, that is. Not that you would choose to marry anyone else. Ever.)

Alas, it was a shame you weren’t able to stay up forever to watch your him. If you could, you would do away with sleep, choosing to spend the extra time you have to simply bask in the wonderful existence that was Alhaitham.

“Are you feeling sleepy already, dear?”

You let out a tired hum, your hold around his arm loosening as your head fell onto your pillow.

Alhaitham shut his book, marking the page with the bookmark of a dried qingxin* flower.

(A gift you had made especially for him.)

Switching the lamp off, he laid down next to you, turning on his side and bringing you closer to him. A kiss on your forehead.

”I love you.” A confession of love whispered under the darkness that engulfed the room.

”I love you too.” Requited.

#al haitham x reader #alhaitham x reader #genshin impact x reader #alhaitham fluff #genshin x reader #whalewrites #genshin fluff #whalegenshin #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact

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indigostreaking · 2 years ago

Note

could you possibly do a head cannon of the guys getting upset with you jokingly flirting with the others? ;)

Yes absolutely! Thanks for the request, nonnie ☺️

Warnings: language, allusions to sex, and degradation/praise.

Josh:

He watched you from across the room, where he was ‘networking’ flawlessly. Jake returned to your side with a drink in each hand. “Here you are, love,” he said as he passed you a glass. The pet name was innocent, usually, but you decided to take advantage of it this time, in hopes that you could convince Josh to take you home. You reached over and touched Jake’s shoulder, squeezing gently as you smiled.

“I’m gonna pretend to flirt with you, mostly because I’m bored, but also because your other half is watching me like a hawk and—” you began, but Jake finished the thought for you.

“And you know if we rile him up, he won’t be able to get you home fast enough,” he giggled as he spoke, but he stepped closer, already joining in on your fun. You knew it didn’t matter what the two of you said since your boyfriend couldn’t hear you, but Jake was always game to play along, and for that you’d always be grateful. “Watch this,” he added with a smirk, stepping closer, letting your hips touch as he rested his hand on your lower back. He kept his eyes on you, trailing them down the plunging neckline of your dress before tossing back the rest of his drink. Within seconds, Josh had swooped in, separating you from his twin and dragging you towards the door. He pinned you against the wall, kissing your neck as he used his body to hold you in place.

“I know exactly what you’re doing, but you’re mine, aren’t you, baby?” His voice had dropped an octave, and the way his breath warmed your skin when he whispered against your ear had you trembling. You nodded wordlessly, chasing his lips with your own, trying to capture a kiss. He caught your chin with one hand and continued, “My pretty baby…I think I’ll take you right here. Would you like that?” You nodded again and he raised an eyebrow. “Is that why you’ve been misbehaving? You wanted me to fuck you like a slut here at the party didn’t you?” You didn’t even need to respond this time. He smiled wickedly as he opened the door beside you, finding an empty broom closet. Your breath hitched as you both stepped inside and the lock clicked behind you.

Jake:

One night, the guys came over to hang out, and despite all the fun, it felt never ending. Jake, Josh and Danny were all focused on each other and a sudden inspiration to write, and try as you might, you couldn’t peel Jake away. You spied Sam in the kitchen mixing drinks, and a devious plan clouded your mind. “Hey, Sammyyyyy,” you smiled as you leaned your elbows against the island counter across from him.

“Hey there, pretty,” he smiled back. “Do a shot with me,” he held up a freshly poured shot of tequila. You smirked and grabbed the salt, sprinkling some in the dip of your collarbone. Sam’s eyes went wide, but he licked his lips as he stepped forward. You held your hair to the side and craned your neck, allowing him easier access to lick the salt from your skin. He tossed back his shot and chased it with a lime slice. “Your turn,” he grinned, but you could see the pink in his cheeks. You glanced over to Jake, but he didn’t appear to be watching. Time to kick it up a notch maybe? You reached out and took Sam’s left hand, carefully pouring a bit of salt across the length of his index finger. His mouth fell open when you took his finger in your mouth, swirling your tongue to gather all the salt before releasing it and downing your own shot of tequila. You tried not to make a face as you sucked the lime chaser. “Fuck,” he muttered in amazement. You saw him quickly look over to Jake in almost panic, only for a wave of relief to wash over him when he didn’t see him looking. You tried pretending to loudly laugh at Sam’s joke, which keyed him in to your plan. “Oh fuck off, y/n! Just go talk to him..” he grumbled before turning and walking away. Whoops.

You took a deep breath and followed Sam’s suggestion, finally fed up with the game and determined to go get the attention you were craving so desperately. You sauntered over to where Jake sat on the couch, and perched yourself on the armrest beside him. “You done playing your little game, yet? I think you hurt Sammy boy’s feelings,” Jake said smugly as he sat his guitar down and pulled you into his lap instead. You pouted, not wanting to admit he was right. He wrapped his arms around your middle, pulling you flush against his chest. “Oh, kitten, you should know by now that won’t work,” he still sounded condescending, but he had lowered his voice to a whisper, just for you. “If you want daddy’s attention, all you have to do is ask..” he purred against the shell of your ear and you could feel his length hardening beneath you. “Meet me in our bedroom,” he commanded softly as he ghosted his fingers up your thigh. “I’ll fuck you like I’m jealous if that’s what you need, love,” he pushed you to your feet with a smile on his face, and quickly covered his hard on with his guitar. You narrowed your eyes at him and he wiggled his brows in response, cocking his head to the side and wordlessly sending you to your room.

Danny:

You didn’t get jealous often, but seeing all these beautiful girls giggling and hugging him was bothering you more than you’d expected. “You good, mama?” Josh asked, after his turn was over. You scoffed a laugh and shrugged. You overheard Danny complimenting one of the girls over their low cut shirt, and you lost it. The competitive and spiteful side of you took over, and you took this opportunity to scoot closer to Josh, batting your eyelashes at him as you smiled.

“I’m better now,” you purred, and Josh looked puzzled. “Will you walk with me to get drinks? I won’t be able to carry them all,” you asked gingerly, playing into Josh’s love of helping people. He smiled and agreed, walking beside you towards the concession stand. You playfully bumped into his side, causing him to laugh as his hands caught your waist. You turned to see Danny eyeing you both across the expanse of the bowling alley.

When you and Josh returned with a couple of buckets of imported beer and a pitcher of whatever was on draft, you saw that it was your turn. You picked up your ball from the rack, and took a deep breath when you felt a presence behind you. “Y/n,” he placed a hand on either hip as he stepped closer behind you. “Was someone jealous?” You could hear the smile in his voice and you groaned, trying to twist around to see his face. He held firm, draping himself over your shoulders now as he peppered kisses down your jaw and neck. “I saw you flirting with, Josh,” he admitted between kisses, “and I did get jealous for a moment…until I realized what I’d done.” You leaned into his chest, breathing in the scent of him as his curls tickled the back of your neck. “You’re the only girl for me, y/n, and I’ll prove it when we get back home,” you turned to see him smirking down at you, lighting a fire within you. “I mean, after I whoop your ass at bowling,” his smile widened as he backed away, slapping your ass before he jumped back out of your reach.

Sammy:

After shows, Sam typically gravitated to you, and you loved how clingy he got. You were lounging on the couch in the green room waiting on him to shower, but he was taking longer than normal. Danny came back first and plopped down beside you. “Hey, y/n,” he grinned as he leaned forward, combing through his wet curls.

“Let me braid your hair please,” you whined, causing him to laugh. He obliged, turning to face away from you and scooting back to be closer to you. You placed a hand on either of his shoulders, squeezing lightly. “Daniel Wagner, have you been working out?” You feigned surprise as you leaned forward to see his face light up. He giggled and touched your hand resting on his shoulder.

“Only while I’m playing drums,” he shook his head before you started to french braid his damp hair. You heard the door click, and saw Sam walk in out of the corner of your eyes. He sat down in the chair beside you and pulled out his phone. “I can’t tell if these new muscles help or hurt my golf game, though,” he snorted, throwing his head back laughing.

“Oh, I’m sure these help,” you trailed a hand down to his bicep, squeezing gently as you beamed at him. You half expected Sam to chime in or to get annoyed, but you got no reaction. You finished the braid and placed your hand in the middle of Danny’s back to push him out of your lap. “Your turn, Sammy?” You asked expectantly. He wordlessly moved seats and kept scrolling his phone as you began braiding his wet hair.

“I’m gonna go check on the twins, yell if you need anything,” Danny announced before disappearing out the door.

“Did you not see me flirting with Danny?” You asked in a moment of annoyance. He put his phone down and twisted to face you.

“Is that what that was?” His smile widened and he placed a hand on your thigh. You narrowed your eyes at him. “I was just waiting on you to invite him back to our room,” he shrugged and you couldn’t quite tell if he was kidding or not.

“Are you serious or…” you trailed off in confusion, and you were brought back to reality with a soft kiss.

“Anything for you, babe,” he booped your nose and smiled before turning away to let you finish the braid, still confused.

#gvf headcanons #greta van fleet #danny wagner #josh kiszka #jake kiszka #sam kiszka #gvf

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dat-carovieh · 2 years ago

Text

Be a good Puppy

Ship: Lambskier (Lambert/Jaskier)

Rating: E

Wordcount: 2.4k

Tags: Jaskier/Geralt/Lambert/Eskel implied, Puppy Play, Dom Jaskier, Sub Lambert, Shibari, Bondage, Collars, Cock Warming, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Praise Kink, Orgasm Denial, Frottage, Porn with Feelings, PWP, Smut

Read on AO3

Jaskier closed his book, a piece of paper between the pages so he would find his page again and put it down to his lap, as he heard the hesitant knock at the door. “Come in,” he called and the door opened slowly. Lambert took a step inside, looking to the ground.

“You wanted to see me,” he said, fidgeting with his hands. Jaskier took his time, taking the Witcher in. He was only wearing a black shirt and a pair of black leather trousers with his usual boots. The black hair that was usually slicked back was hanging into his face, freshly washed, the way Jaskier liked it. Lambert had probably done it, because of that. Jaskier had to force himself not to smile.

“Close the door behind you,” he said with a strict voice. Hastily Lambert did as he was told.

“Do you know, why I wanted to see you?” Jaskier asked.

“Yes.”

Jaskier raised and eyebrow.

“Yes, sir.”

“So, why are you here?”

“Because I was being an asshole and insulted you.” Jaskier nodded and waved him closer, Lambert immediately followed and stood in front of Jaskier, who had still propped his book on his crossed legs.

“And are you sorry?” he asked. Lambert nodded.

“Excuse me?” His voice now slightly raised.

“Yes, sir, I’m sorry.”

“And are you ready, to prove, that you can get a good boy?”

“Yes, can be a good boy, want to prove it,” Lambert eagerly said.

“Good, get undressed and then bring me your collar and the rope,” Jaskier commanded with a dismissive wave of his hand towards the trunk. “And don’t forget to fold your clothes.”

“Yes, sir.” With a slight smile, Jaskier went back to his book, waiting for Lambert to finish.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a movement before him and looked up, Lambert was kneeling in front of him, completely naked, cock already half hard, in his hands the rope and collar, Jaskier had asked for. His own cock twitched a little in his trousers, but he ignored it for now. He moved his hands through Lamberts loose hair.

“Look, who can be a good puppy, if he just wants to,” he said with a smile. He took the collar and fastened it around Lambert’s neck.

“Is it to tight?” he asked. Lambert shook his head. “Words, puppy.”

“Not to tight,” he said. Jaskier put a finger under Lamberts chin and tilted his head up.

“Do you remember your word?” Jaskier asked.

“Yes, sir, White Gull,” Lambert answered.

“Good puppy.” Jaskier petted Lambert’s head and the Witcher closed his eyes. He took a moment to scratch the Witchers scalp. Lambert made a small humming sound at that.

Jaskier placed his book on the table next to the chair and got up, tugging on the leach, attached to the collar. “Come on, get up,” he said. Lambert hurried to obey. As they where standing, he pushed Lambert towards the middle of the room, grabbed his shoulders and turned him around. He took the rope, Lambert was still holding.

“Arms behind your back,” Jaskier commanded and Lambert moved his arms back, the forearms against each other and he grabbed the crook of his arms. Jaskier started to wrap the rope around the arms and made a knot, before he continued to wrap the rope around Lambert’s chest, making a couple of knots. Lambert was standing as still as possible. Jaskier knew it was nearly impossible for the Witcher to be completely still, so he ignored the little shaking of the body. He knew, he was trying really hard.

“Look at you, all wrapped up for me, like a present,” Jaskier said as he took him in. It truly was a beautiful sight. “Stay here,” he said and went to the bed to get a pillow. He put it down in front of the chair, then he led Lambert back to the chair and sat down. The Witcher didn’t need a prompt, he immediately dropped to his knees on the pillow.

“You know, the pillow means you will stay down there a while. Because I really need to finish that chapter, but I would really appreciate someone to warm my cock, while I do so. Can you do this?” Lambert looked at him with half lidded eyes.

“Yes, sir,” he said, his breath heavy, voice sounding excited. Jaskier opened his trousers and pulled out his already hard dick. Lambert licked his lips at the sight. He leaned forward to take the cock deep into his mouth. Jaskier moaned as he felt the hot warmth close around him. A tongue swirled around him. Jaskier grabbed his hair and yanked his head back.

“No! I said cock warming, you will sit here with my cock in your mouth, not moving, until I tell you otherwise,” he scolded. “Can you do that?”

“Yes, sir, I’m sorry, sir,” Lambert whispered. Jaskier let go of his hair and Lambert leaned forward again, taking him deep into his mouth. Jaskier nodded and took his book from the table, to continue reading.

Lambert had his eyes closed; he didn’t notice anything around him. Only the taste of Jaskier’s cock, he was not allowed to lick and the smell of arousal coming from the bard. He had to constantly remind himself to not lick or suck it. He wanted it so badly. And the smell of Jaskier from where his nose was buried in the hair around the bard’s cock. His own cock was straining and he arched to be touched. Maybe Jaskier would grant him that, when he was being a good boy. So, he tried his best, not to move. He was still shaking, he couldn’t stop it, but Jaskier pretended it didn’t happen. It didn’t bother Lambert to much, he had never been able to sit completely still. And suddenly a hand came down, stroking his hair, he nearly moved his mouth but he was able to stop himself at the last moment. Some drool was leaking out of his mouth, but there was nothing to be done about it and Jaskier didn’t seem to mind. He was reading his book and petting his hair.

Lambert was thankful for the pillow under his knees, as much as he loved this position, his knees would be hurting like hell by know if he was kneeling on the hard floor. He felt at peace, not having to think about anything except not sucking the cock in his mouth, not having to worry. Not having to be on guard the whole time, knowing he was safe right now, a hand playing with his hair, he felt completely at ease.

After what felt like a long time but also not long enough, he felt a tug on his leach and opened his eyes, to look at Jaskier.

“Aren’t you a good puppy? I think you deserve a little treat,” the bard said with a smile. He didn’t know, what that treat would be but yes, he would love, whatever Jaskier would give him. He was pulled back from Jaskier’s cock and let out a small involuntary whine at the loss. His jaw arched from being strained for so long but he would love to taste him some more.

With a finger under his chin, Jaskier tipped his head up and smiled at him, he brushed his fingers over Lambert’s cheek. Then he got up, the leach in hand, pulling him up as well. It was not easy to get up with his arms tied behind his back but he managed, Jaskier holding the leach short was helping him as he steadied himself. He was slightly shorter than Jaskier and because they where standing so close, he had to look up a little. Jaskier didn’t say anything, he just pulled him through the room, Lambert followed obediently. Jaskier stopped at the wooden desk, pushed him against it and made him bend over. He felt really exposed like this, naked, bound, bent over a table and not able to see, what was happening. But he trusted Jaskier completely.

“Stay like this, don’t move, until I’m back,” Jaskier ordered and he heard him walk around. But he didn’t take long to return. Jaskier fisted into his hair and pulled his head back, forcing him to look at him.

“Did you prepare yourself, before you came?” he asked. Lambert nodded.

“Yes sir, I did.” He knew, Jaskier wanted him to do it himself before. But he always checked, to make sure he was alright.

“Good boy,” he said, letting go of the hair. A warm sensation was spreading through Lambert’s body at hearing the praise. Jaskier was holding a small ring in front of his face, Lambert knew it, they had used the penis ring before. He felt Jaskier’s breath next to his ear.

“We wouldn’t want you to come when you’re not supposed to, right? We don’t want to forget; you are here to apologize. And if you’re good, I might allow you to come afterwards,” he explained.

“Yes sir, I will be good, so good,” Lambert said, biting back a whine. His fingernails dug in his arms as he tried not to move. He wanted to be good for Jaskier. Jaskier reached around him and placed the ring around his straining cock. He couldn’t bite back a little whimper at the touch but he managed to stay still.

He heard a bottle being opened and then a slick noise. Jaskier was about to fuck him and he really had to contain himself to not shift on the desk in excitement. Jaskier was holding the leach short, so there was constantly a little pull that reminded him of the collar he was wearing. He felt Jaskier’s cock push against his hole before he pressed deep into him. Quick thrusts pressed him against the table, he felt his orgasm approaching but couldn’t come.

“Let me hear you, puppy,” Jaskier demanded, panting. His hand on Lambert’s hip was digging into the skin.

Lambert opened his mouth and let out a long and deep moan which made Jaskier thrust into him even harder.

“Yes please,” he whimpered. “Please more… harder… oh gods… please.” He so desperately wanted to come but he knew, he wasn’t allowed to. And he would not disappoint Jaskier. Jaskier’s deep moans made shivers run down his spine, he wanted to come but he also wanted to continue feeling him inside of him.

Jaskier’s breathing got heavier and his thrusts faster and harder and with a loud moan he came inside of him. Lambert could already feel the cum leaking out of him. Jaskier pulled back out and Lambert couldn’t stop himself from whining again at the loss. It had felt so good having Jaskier in him. Jaskier grabbed the rope and pulled him up again, spinning him around. They were standing close to each other.

“You did good, puppy. You will be allowed to come in a moment,” he promised with a smile. He leaned against the desk himself, half sitting on the edge. He reached down and took of the cockring.

“Get on you knees,” he ordered and Lambert dropped down immediately, maybe a little too fast, he immediately felt pain shooting through his legs. But he didn’t care right now. Jaskier extended his leg.

“You may get off on my boot,” he said.

“Thank you, sir,” Lambert answered and moved closer, to get the leg against his arching cock. The cold, hard leather felt so good against his hot cock. Jaskier moved his fingers under his collar, to hold him in place. Lambert was thankful for that, since his hands where still bound to his back, so he couldn’t hold himself up too well. He looked up at Jaskier who gave him a small nod. More encouragement wasn’t needed for him to rut against the boot, finally finding the friction he had been craving. Getting closer to his release with every thrust.

“Come for me, puppy,” Jaskier rumbled. This was everything he needed and he spilled his release over Jaskier’s boot. Jaskier’s hand was in his hair again.

“Uh, I think someone made a mess, you should clean it up, don’t you think?” Jaskier said. Lambert nodded.

“Yes, of course,” he said and inched a little back so he could bend down. Jaskier had let go of the collar and was holding the leach again. Holding him up by it. Lambert felt a little choked and the sensation nearly got him hard again. It looked like Jaskier had just cleaned his boots previously, which Lambert was thankful for and Lambert dove in to quickly lick it clean again. When he was done, Jaskier took hold of the restraints and pulled him back to his feet.

“You did so good,” he said, as he began to loosen the knots. As good as it felt to be bound, the feeling of the ropes coming off were great and when his arms where released, he had to stretch them. Jaskier’s arm wrapped around him and he smiled at him.

“How do you feel?” he asked in a soft voice.

“Great,” Lambert answered, still lightheaded from their play.

“That’s good,” Jaskier answered. “Come let’s get you into bed.” Lambert dug his fingers into Jaskier’s shoulder.

“Are you…?”

“Yes, I’m coming with you, just need to get out of these clothes,” he explained and Lambert reluctantly let go of him. He turned around, getting into the big bed, pulling the blanked over himself and watched Jaskier getting undressed. He put his clothes neatly next to Lambert’s and the crawled into bed next to him. He pulled the Witcher into his arms and allowed him to settle his head on his chest. He seemed to fall asleep quickly.

A small knock at the door pulled Jaskier out of his thoughts. “Yes?” he said quietly, knowing there could only be a Witcher on the other side of the door who would hear him regardless. The door was pushed open and Geralt came in with a small smile, looking at them, cuddled together on the bed.

“Is he asleep?” Geralt asked.

“I think so,” Jaskier said, stroking the hair of the Witcher in his arms.

“He was a real little shit, today,” Geralt said. Jaskier nodded. “True, but he is our little shit,” he answered. “Are you just going to stand there or are you coming to bed?”

Geralt quickly moved away from the door and got undressed as well, before crawling into the bed on the other side, putting his arm around Lambert.

“Is Eskel also coming?” Jaskier asked.

“Hmm I think so, but he said something about looking after the goats, so he might be a bit later,” Geralt answered and closed his eyes.

#Lambskier #Lambert x Jaskier #Lambskier fic #my writing #my Witcher writing #The Witcher

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get-shiggy-with-it · 3 years ago

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RESTORATION AND 18TH CENTURY LIT. - COLLEGE AU!TOMURA X READER

✧ pairing: college student!shigaraki x fem!reader | a little bit of shigadabi

✧ word count: 21.3k | AO3 Mirror

✧ warnings: Shigaraki being an asshole, lowkey kinda hates women, fem reader only because he refers to her as female (derogatory) like once gender neutral pronouns for reader though the few times its used, Angst and Fluff and Smut Blow Jobs, Anal Fingering, college au no quirks, dabi is a little shit, dirty talk, swearing, like so much, vaginal se, vaginal fingering, oral sex, virgin shigaraki, loss of virginity degradation, mentions of lactation kink, brief exhibitionism

✧ summary: He’d never sat this close to you before, but that didn’t stop you from annoying the shit out of him for the previous whole half semester and going since it was just now passing midterms. Long enough for him to have pegged you as a textbook try-hard, pick-me bitch.And now you were filling his corner of the room with the overpowering smell of freshly washed hair and demanding he do things for you. Fucking disgusting.

Or Tomura get's paired up with you for a big final project in some bullshit English class he needs to graduate and quickly discovers that he even though he kinda hates women, he hates you a little bit less. And also really wants to stick his dick in you.

✧ a/n: First off yes this is a repost. Second: Happy birthday to the best boy and happy birthday to this fic (and also this blog)! In celebration of all the occasions and because I didn’t have time for anything else, I’ve compiled the entire R18CL main series here in one place. It was the first real shigs fic I’ve written and still one of my favorite pieces I’ve ever done. I think you can tell how much my writing has improved just in this year from reading this, but I love it how it is, so enjoy~ And finally, it goes without saying, don’t fucking rec this anywhere else.

The door at the back of the room creaked open and jarred Tomura from his half-sleep state. He didn’t look at who’d bothered to slip into this fucking class late, and instead tried to let the prof’s inane droning on Timothy Whoever The Fuck’s 18th weirdo letter book lull him into day dreaming.

He only made it about a quarter of the way back into his boredom induced coma until he was dragged unwillingly into wakefulness once more.

“Sorry, could you plug this in for me?”

Tomura jumped again when you leaned over to whisper to him, computer charger in one hand, gesturing to the outlet on the wall by his head. You’d left the typical courtesy seat empty between the two of you and he stared blankly at the way you leaned your weight on the vacant chair.

He recognized you.

The classic, dumbass teacher's pet who was always front and center of the room, iced drink at the ready looking like you belonged on the set of some god awful college b movie.

Well, almost always. You certainly had that loud ass drink, but you’d tucked yourself at the end of his row towards the back of the room and was clearly a bit embarrassed for bursting in almost 15 minutes late.

Tomura swallowed hard as your shirt gaped in the front. It took an immense amount of control to not gaze outright into the swell of your chest.

“You good?” you asked softly, head cocked like you were straight out of a fucking manga panel—tits on display with that stupid innocent, puzzled expression.

“Uh yeah, sorry,” Tomura mumbled.

You offered him this gross, clearly fake smile—because why the hell would you be grinning like that if it wasn’t just because you wanted something from him—as he threaded the cord behind his chair and plugged it in.

“Thanks,” you replied and turned back towards the professor, typing away cause you actually take notes in this class.

Of fucking course you did.

Probably trying to impress everyone with how you typed practically every word the prof said. Tomura decidedly did not take notes, and didn’t really pay that much attention in general. Usually he just played some trashy phone game under the desk or dozed with his head against the cement wall.

It had gotten to that portion of the semester when it was warmer outside but the buildings still had the heat cranked all the way up, especially here in the basement where the classroom was. That environment along with his usual hoodie/joggers combo created grade A napping conditions that Tomura took full advantage of.

As a rule, he actually cared about school and he did relatively well. But this was just some dumbass liberal arts requirement course that had nothing to do with his actual major, so he was perfectly fine with coasting. Why his comp sci degree required him to take a fucking Restoration era English class, he had no clue. Apparently neither did his advisor other than that the ‘administration recommended it’ so their students would have a ‘well rounded learning experience.’

It was almost certainly just a cash grab to make him take more credits than was necessary to graduate, but whatever. He was here now. And so were you. Your presence was overwhelmingly clear, typing away and smelling like one of those insanely specific laundry detergent label scents—fucking rolling meadows and grandmother’s clean linen or something like that.

He’d never sat this close to you before, but that didn’t stop you from annoying the shit out of him for the previous whole half semester and going since it was just now passing midterms. Long enough for him to have pegged you as a textbook try-hard, pick-me bitch. You contributed to discussion at every opportunity, turned in shit early, and debated other classmates regularly enough to disrupt his in-course sleep schedule.

The way you dressed pissed him off too, with a particular style that was enough to stand out but not so over the top that it would cause disinterest from any potential mates.

And now you were filling his corner of the room with the overpowering smell of freshly washed hair and demanding he do things for you.

Fucking disgusting.

“Tomura Shigaraki.”

He jumped a third time, attention directed from his lap to the front of the room where the prof stood, listing out names from the board. He heard your name next followed by Kai Chisaki. The list was projected on the board as well, grouping everyone into twos or threes with “Final Project Partners” listed in bold Helvetica font at the top.

Only fucking English profs used Helvetica.

He vaguely remembered mentions of a final presentation—one of like three grades in this class cause the prof was almost certainly a sadist.

No, not almost—definitely. Otherwise he wouldn’t have stuck him with you and that weirdo Kai pre-med student who insisted on acting so elitist you’d think he already had his fucking M.D.

One time he asked Tomura to move seats at the start of the semester because he looked “dirty” and Kai liked to sit in the back—which, fair enough, it wasn’t like Tomura showered as frequently as he probably should but what the fuck??

With you rushing in late, chest out and panting every now and again from your apparent sprint across campus, Tomura was certain he’d be subjected to a whole 6 weeks of watching you try to mount that fucking Kai dude instead of actually working.

This was going to be a nightmare.

From the end of the table, he saw you shifting and turned to find that stupid fucking smile flashed his way once again.

If you had a tail, he’d bet it would be wagging.

“Hey, well that’s convenient,” you chuckled and plopped down directly next to him, sliding your noisy ass drink across the table with you and brushing against his thigh when you shifted your bag to the side.

“Yeah,” he nodded.

It most certainly was not.

But Tomura would never say that because—as his roommate put it so kindly—he was kinda a pussy.

People made him nervous, they always had. That’s why he liked computers so much. Code made sense, there were clear rules and when something didn’t work out, he could fix it eventually, but you couldn’t see people’s codes. You had to fucking guess at shit and it made his anxiety skyrocket which the sides of his neck and finger tips suffered for.

So he cowered like the fucking dog you probably thought he was instead and kept his eyes on the floor, letting you set up in silence.

“Who was our third?” you asked, glancing around the room. “Sorry, I was busy making a shared drive and I came in late so I missed that last bit.”

Why the hell did you feel the need to apologize all the goddamn time? Seriously, who would believe you were actually sorry for being irritating as hell.

And god if he thought you were irritating.

“Kai,” he grumbled simply as the man in question sauntered over to the table and fucking clorox wiped down the seat before sitting.

Tomura watched your smile falter just a bit and grinned inwardly at the slip in your fake little persona. But you didn’t say anything more, just moved your chair back so the three of you were in a semi-circle and pulled up a few pdfs on your laptop.

“Cool, so I was looking over the directions on the syllabus last week and I set up a little work delegation thing so we can distribute everything pretty evenly,” you jumped right in, tone matter of fact in the down-to-business manner he was used to hearing from you during class discussions.

It was better than you so clearly forcing yourself to be overly polite, and he honestly couldn’t really care less if you wanted to take charge of this thing. You seemed kinda bossy, but he begrudgingly admitted that your suck up behavior did mean you sort of knew what you were talking about. He was just here to pass and you might actually make that a lot easier.

It was okay as long as he was taking advantage of you, he told himself. And you would be too stupid to notice, so he could play your game and play pretend nice all the way to an A.

That walking condescension on the other hand—

“I’m not doing that,” Kai huffed through his ever-present mask.

Tomura wasn’t actually sure he’d ever seen the bastards face without it.

“What?” you laughed awkwardly. “Yes you are, you don’t really have much of a choice.”

You stared at your classmate who simply stared right back with his own, equally confused expression.

“Why do you look so surprised?” you asked after a moment of silence.

You weren’t smiling anymore and your voice had dropped down about a fucking octave. At least you sounded more like a person and not some wannabe uwu gamer bitch.

“People don’t talk to me like that,” Kai looked at you down his nose, legs spread wide and elbow resting on his knees.

Tomura could feel the pretentiousness wafting from him in waves, and waited with baited breath for you to get kicked off your pedestal. Just a bit though, he did need you around to do most of his work for this thing.

But in a shocking turn of events, you just laughed dryly twice and turned back to your laptop screen, mumbling as you did.

“Really? Well they should.”

Tomura would have laughed too, but he didn’t feel like inflating your ego. Kai on the other hand looked a bit like you’d just spit on shoes and furrowed those stupid, plucked thin eyebrows at the back of your head.

“So Tomura, you code right?” you asked, turning away from Kai completely to address him. “I just remember you saying you were in comp sci when we did introductions.”

He was taken aback by the knowledge that he existed as a person in your head outside of this room for a moment and simply nodded—suddenly feeling far too hot in his black on black sweats and hoodie.

God just talking to you made his skin burn.

“Great, cause we’re allowed to chose the medium we present in and I was thinking of taking it in a more creative direction cause I’ve had this prof before and he eats that shit up,” you begin to ramble again, scrolling through a bulleted list, shifting the screen for him to see.

“Right,” he murmured, still surprised you’d thought this far and not...actively hating what you’d brainstormed.

Well, it was a bit juvenile and you clearly didn’t know what you were talking about but the concept wasn’t horrendous. He could work with that and it shouldn’t be too hard. It kinda seemed like you’d overestimated a bit with how challenging it would actually be and saddled yourself with most of the heavy lifting. That or you were just a control freak which was a little more believable.

He wished you would stop looking at him over the edge of the screen. He could feel himself starting to sweat. Rivulets falling down the nape of his neck and racing across his bare chest under the sweatshirt. Tomura sorta regretted not wearing a shirt underneath but he knew that he wouldn’t have taken off the insulating layer even if that had been an option.

It would just mean you had more drying, pale as fuck skin to look at and judge him for because he knew that’s what you were doing. Fucking vapid and shallow like everyone else.

“It’s really rough so far, but I have it the gist outlined,” you indicated to another tab and then turned back to Kai who had been sitting silently glaring daggers into your back. “So, Kai, since you’re in STEM I figured you’d be okay with doing more of the preliminary research—”

“I don’t think so,” Kai interrupted, shaking his head and pushing off his knees to lean back in the cheap, plastic seat. “Look, it’ll be easier for all of us if you two just make it look pretty and I can handle the oral presentation.”

You gaped and looked to Tomura with this pathetic fucking incredulous stare, like you thought he’d back you up.

Which actually, now that he thought about it was probably a good idea—he did need you to remain somewhat cordial with him—but he certainly didn’t care enough to defend you in any way. Kai was a dick, sure, but he wasn’t gonna let you rope him into being your white knight or whatever.

He settled for a similarly disgruntled downward twitch of his lips. The movement pulled at the cracking skin which stung as it tore open even more. Tomura felt the familiar crawling feeling on his neck and shifted in his seat to resist the urge to scratch.

He couldn’t pinpoint why exactly you staring at him was so uncomfortable. He didn’t like you, he didn’t care about you and by extension didn’t give two shits what you thought of him, but anything he might have said shriveled on his tongue when you spoke or looked in his eyes too long.

Tomura had never made a habit of talking to females and they certainly had never wanted anything to do with him either.

Maybe he was fucking allergic or something.

Whatever the case, you seemed to take his half frown as a sign of solidarity and leaned back in your own seat.

“Okay, look,” you retorted. “If you’re seriously not gonna at least try to cooperate, then there is actually an option to do the project by yourself and I suggest you take it.”

The look on your face was distinctly impolite. There was a sharpness to the set of your jaw that Tomura had never seen before, but it looked practiced enough that he could bet it was simply the snake that resided in every woman just waiting to come out.

“Look sweetheart—” that masked jerk began, also for some fucking reason looking to Tomura for support.

For someone who was very much used to blending into the background scenery, this was the most eye contact Tomura had ever made in a day.

Except on the rare occasions his roommate had friends over and he had to make the dreaded trek from his room to reach the fridge.

“Oh yeah I’m not doing that,” you closed your laptop sharply and rolled your eyes. “I get it, but I’m really just trying to graduate. I don’t think this is going to work out and you,” Tomura froze as you shifted your gaze to him once again, “seem okay, so Tomura and I can just work this out by ourselves and you can find a different group.”

Kai scoffed behind the black layer of fabric covering his mouth and slung his backpack over his shoulder. “Whatever.”

Tomura watched him saunter straight out the door as the room was filled with the shuffling of notebooks and zipping of backpacks.

“God,” you huffed and turned back to him.

His raw skin burned under the new wave of heat and accompanying moisture that slicked his skin when you scooted closer to him. That clean laundry and shampoo smell was suffocating from this proximity.

Did you fucking bathe in the stuff?

He was becoming increasingly aware of his less than pleasant aroma and the fact that you not scrunching your nose up in disgust just out of some stupid, ingrained need to appease him.

“Well, that was...weird,” you chuckled in a way that was probably meant to break the tension.

Unfortunately Tomura felt more like he was about to break out in hives if you came any closer so it really just ended up making the atmosphere ten times more awkward. At least for him. You, somehow, remained resolutely unaware.

“Mhm,” he hummed in response and picked silently at the skin of his fingers.

“Anyway, I have a meeting in a few but we can trade numbers and pick a time to meet up sometime tomorrow maybe?” you suggested, quickly saving the steadily degrading vibes of the conversation and pulled out your phone.

He really hated the full body pulsation that rushed through him at the thought of getting a girls number. It made him fucking sick at himself for falling into your stupid trap to get him interested. Was your plan to just use him to get a good grade or whatever and then block his texts?

It wasn’t like Tomura didn’t know about his status as the class ‘freak.’ That one guy everyone whispers about and makes sure not to sit next to. And he knows you know, so why the hell else would you act so nice?

He wanted to say something scathing in return. That he could do the whole thing by himself too—which he definitely couldn’t but that was irrelevant—and that he didn’t need you bossing him around either.

“Sure thing,” he said instead and took your offered phone all too eagerly, typing in his number and watching as you shot off a text back so he’d have yours.

His phone buzzed against his thigh and he jumped a fourth time, but you seemed not to notice as you packed your bag and grabbed your basic ass drink. The ice clattered against the tumbler, dropping cool condensation against the searing skin of his hand.

Tomura shivered as you waved over your shoulder and slipped out the door with another rush of students.

He sat silently in the empty room for a moment, trying to process the last hour. He pinched himself idly, wondering if it had all been just a weird dream, but the results were inconclusive. A minute or two passed before he pulled out his phone to scroll through the list of reddit and discord notifs to find your text.

Sent at 2:47 pm:

— pEopLe DoN’t TaLK tO mE liKE ThAt

— not very plus ultra of him...smh

— anyway, library at 6 tomorrow ?

Tomura caved, digging his nails into the side of his neck and hissed at the pain, confirming the day's horrible reality.

---

Tomura hadn’t stopped staring at his phone since he left the apartment. It was second nature by now—head down at a nearly ninety degree angle, hoodie pulled up to hide hair he hadn’t bothered to comb in weeks, and phone out, held just far enough away that he could see the pavement behind the screen.

He’d found that people tended to naturally avoid him this way and he didn’t have to risk accidentally making eye contact. It was still a bit nerve wracking to venture into buildings he didn’t expressly have to for classes, so he was still hesitant to make the voyage from his apartment to the library. But he’d made the mistake of mentioning plans to his roommate and the bastard wouldn’t leave him alone about it afterwards until he was practically shoved out with the door locked behind him.

He was half tempted to make up some excuse last minute and go hide out at the only cafe on campus he could tolerate, but Tomura knew he was just delaying the inevitable. Biting the bullet now would help to not prolong his suffering.

Your text thread glared up at him in stark white on blue as he pushed past a crowd of students by the library entrance and flashed his ID to the attendant.

Group Project Bitch:

— hey I got us a room on the third floor, all the way in the back

—text me when you’re here I’ll wave you in, it’s kinda hard to find T-T

sounds good—

He shot off a quick text to you that he was hoping on the elevator. The other two guys in the lift may have given him a dirty look for only going up to the third floor, but Tomura sure as hell wasn’t going to risk the physical exertion of stares when just the thought being stuck in a small room alone with you for god knows how long already had him sweating.

When he stepped out, you were leaned against one of the 90s-green shelves, scrolling aimlessly through your phone. He panicked momentarily, thinking he’d have to get your attention cause just walking up without saying anything would be weird right?

He wasn’t sure.

He didn’t do shit like this.

Thankfully, you looked up at the chime of the lift and waved him over. His red sneakers squeaked as they scuffed the linoleum floors and he already regretted choosing his tighter fitting pair of sweats. The tapered legs that hugged his ankles and thin calves rubbed against his skin and stung the raw patches.

“Hey, thanks for coming,” you said softly and he nodded, following as you began to weave through the stacks. “Sorry it was short notice, graduation’s coming up so I'm swamped with meetings.”

“It’s fine, I didn’t have anything going on.”

He cringed internally at the way his voice cracked, trying to keep the usual rasp to a minimum. His roommate said it was from the innumerable hours he spent shouting at his monitor or on discord, which was probably true but to you he was sure he just sounded like a fucking teenager.

“Cool, I’ve been set up for awhile so feel free to move some stuff,” you talked a bit louder now that you’d both stepped into the study room and shut the door.

Tomura looked around. You’d snagged one of the nicer ones at least, with the big monitors he could cast his screen onto and those comfy chairs he liked but could never beat anyone too on the lower floors.

You were right, there was shit all over the big table at the center of the room. Notes and printed out readings with highlights galore and sticky notes littering the pages were scattered all over. What a show off. You probably tossed all this stuff out so he’d think you were actually intelligent or some shit.

Kicking a pile off of the nearest plush armchair, Tomura took a seat and pulled his laptop out. There was a jack in the middle of the table and you plugged yours in to cast onto the big monitor.

You made a fucking power point for him.

This couldn’t be real.

“So I know I ran some stuff by you in class but essentially I was thinking we make like a simple Twine type thing using the rhetorical argument Swift is making…”

You started rambling again and Tomura almost immediately tuned you out. His eyes drifted between the rough outline you were flicking through on the board and the laptop you had your nose buried in.

It was covered in stickers, pretty obviously stereotypical for someone as obsessed with being ‘cool’ as you clearly were. But as he scanned through the various old meme phrases and aesthetic shit, he caught a couple of game references he recognized and a panel cutout from one of his favorite manga.

He almost fell into your trap for a moment, feeling a rush at the prospect of someone—much less a chick—being into his main hyperfixations.

But it was quickly crushed under everything his years trolling subreddits had taught him. People like you didn’t actually have interests beyond the attention and dick it got them. Plus that manga was pretty popular anyway, you probably didn’t even read it, just thought the line was funny or made you sound quirky. That had to be why you felt the need to drop it in your first texts.

“What do you think?” you asked, making good on your new habit of startling the hell out of him.

Tomura blinked, gaze instinctively turning to you but the blatant way you stared made his mouth turn to sand paper, so he looked resolutely back at the color-coded bullet points on the screen.

“Look’s fine,” he mumbled.

The more he glanced over it, the more it actually did look fine. A bit more than fine, really, which pissed him off even more. The little choose-your-own debate style story was not a terrible way to make fucking Whatever Swift interesting and it kinda looked like you’d bothered to google some simple coding which gave him a better idea of what you were looking for.

It was...good.

And that so fucking annoying.

Well, he wasn’t sure if annoying was the right word for it, but the proposal coupled with your apparent lack of disgust at working with him made his face hot and that only ever happened otherwise when his roommate left the dishes out for weeks or when some newb on his server fucked up their raids.

Then, you had the audacity to plop down in the chair next to him and—

“You can tell me to fuck off if you want,” you began, shuffling in the chair to cross your legs on the cushion, “but I was hoping you’d be willing to show me how you do some of the coding stuff? I tried on my own, but I have literally no clue what I’m doing.”

He could smell you again, like the whole fucking health and beauty aisle at the grocery store. When he turned his head a bit to look at you around the curtain of his hair, you were crooked—back against the armrest and facing him.

“Why do you want to know?” he asked, sounding a bit less rude than he would have liked to.

You just fucking stared right at him though, didn’t wrinkle your nose at how greasy his roots were or how he was wearing the same hoodies as yesterday.

“I’ve always been interested in it, but my program is kinda stressful and I don’t have much free time so I never learned,” you offered and for once Tomura found he didn’t feel his skin crawl under your unwavering gaze.

The dry, cracked area around his eyes burned though as sweat beaded on his forehead and he quickly wiped at his face with a loose sweatshirt sleeve. The garment hung off his shoulders, bought a size too big that he never ended up growing into.

“What’s your major?”

He found the words slipped easily from him. It was the quintessential question you asked of anyone in college when you met, but he’d never been interested in the answer before.

You babbled a bit about your specific area of study and your voice was surprisingly not as infuriating as he remembered it being before. It was softer, he thought, than when you were soapboxing in class about the sexist implications of old as fuck poetry—it had a less grating quality and was almost pleasing to the ear.

Or Tomura would have said that if he thought you deserved the compliment.

But, obviously you didn’t.

So he didn’t.

He just pretended to care about what you were saying and didn’t hang onto every word at all. Actually he was more enraptured in the way your lips moved when you talked. You used your hands a lot too, but his eyes were ensnared on the way your mouth quirked and dipped, at the occasional flash of your tongue between strong teeth. When he leaned in a bit, he could smell your breath too: fruity gum and the remnants of whatever you were always drinking in that loud as fuck cup. He wondered now what exactly it was, so he could buy it and get a better idea of what you mouth might taste—

Nope.

No, see this was exactly what he wasn’t supposed to be thinking about. How were you doing this to him? What a fucking slut.

Tomura steeled his nerves as you started explaining the extracurriculars you did on the side.

“My roommate freshman year actually started a gaming club and so I’ve gotten more into that over the years,” you explained, pointing at the stickers on your laptop case.

“Are you talking about The League?”

“Yeah, I didn’t know if you’d heard of it,” you shrugged.

He knew of the gaming club on campus. He’d thought about joining when he enrolled but the allure of anonymity online gaming provided was too strong. Plus his discord server didn’t have annoying weekly meetings.

The thought of you, up late and illuminated by the blue light of a tv screen, tucked away in one of the basement rooms in the media building was...strange. It also prompted an array of new images—you in those fucking cat ear headsets, seated in his lap as he trashed you in Mario Kart which was even stranger.

Tomura had to physically shake his head to dislodge the thought.

“Uh, we should probably work on this right?” he cringed at the way his voice cracked compared to your own, smooth tone.

You should narrate those fucking sleep time mediation things. His roommate used to hide wireless speakers in his room and blast those when Tomura stayed up too late. It was annoying as shit then, but if it was you talking, he probably wouldn’t have minded so much.

Or no, no he would definitely mind.

Yes. It would have been worse if anything.

“Oh shit, you right. It’s been like two hours.”

He glanced down at his laptop and saw that it had, indeed, been two hours since he got there. He’d willingly spoken to you for two goddamn hours. It felt like no time had passed at all, but the sun was definitely setting, the overhead fluorescent bulbs taking over as the main light source in the room.

Weird.

So you settled back in your chair, typing away like you always did, but the sound wasn’t nearly as frustrating as before. Occasionally, you’d glance over his shoulder and ask questions about what he was working on, but mostly the two of you settled into a comfortable silence.

This pattern continued for the next few weeks. As the weather warmed, you began to show a bit more skin. He never worked up the nerve to comment on the thick expanse of bare thigh that tapered off nicely into your calf, or the curve of your arms not hidden behind knit sweaters—hell even your fucking shoulders were hard not to look at.

Maybe all those high school dress codes weren’t actually so full of shit afterall. Cause he was definitely distracted by the way your neck swooped into the exposed skin of your shoulder and down your back on more than one occasion.

Did all girls know that? Was it some kind of massive conspiracy to crumble the patriarchy or some crap to go flashing bare shoulders everywhere?

Regardless if you really were trying to hypnotize him into liking you, Tomura stayed resolutely in his monochrome, long sleeved attire, and if you noticed the behavior you never said a word.

Never said a word about his allergy ridden skin, peeling lips or scarred throat. Never commented on his terrible posture or said his eyes were creepy. Even when he’d occasionally toss a negative remark your way, you never retaliated maliciously. Just brushed him off with a jovial ‘don’t be a dick’ and a playful, but hard slap to his chest or the back of his head.

The two of you always met in the same, secluded room on the third floor. You’d talk with him in class sometimes or shoot him texts about random bits of inspiration or a late night game memes, but for the most part, your conversations were confined to that room. He found he preferred the study room ‘you’ best. You weren’t as stiff. There was more of a solidity to you, like he’d seen when you told off that Kai bastard.

It...grew on him.

He was irrationally anxious that there would be a time when you couldn’t secure this particular room—with it’s big monitor and comfy chairs and less annoying ‘you’—but he’d been reassured after your third work session.

Someone had knocked softly at the thick, wooden door and a head of wild, bright pink hair peaked around the crack.

“Sup bro,” the intruder quipped, as they stepped fully into the room.

“Hey, Spinner,” you mumbled back, looking up momentarily from the essay portion of your presentation before going back to typing.

Spinner had seemed to notice him at that point and offered a small wave in his direction. “Oh hey, sorry, thought you were alone,” he said quickly.

“Nah, this is Tomura,” you said, glancing up again and jerking your thumb in his direction.

Tomura nodded and tugged at his hoodie strings to stop from scratching under the newcomer’s gaze. He’d gotten used to you, but other people still made him a bit nervous.

“Nice to meet you,” Spinner had a nice smile, bright and flashy when he spoke. He leaned against the door and crossed his arms, looking around the room. “You got the nice one, huh. How’d you manage that?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you half closed your laptop and stretched a bit. “Jin was working the front desk, so I’ve just been bribing him with vending machine snacks.”

“He hasn’t gotten himself fired yet?” Spinner laughed incredulously, but not unkindly.

“Surprisingly not, but he’s completely corrupt now,” you were picking at the cuticle of your thumb and Tomura fixated on the way the skin split off at the nail. Just like his. “A couple packs of chips and a Monster and I get the most bitchin’ study room whenever I want.”

“Damn,” Spinner chuckled again and Tomura really wished that he’d leave already. He was beginning to feel himself fading into the upholstery as the conversation left him in the dust. The divergence of your attention away from him or the project was even more annoying that you were. “Well, are you coming to The League meeting tonight? We’re busting out a Smash tournament.”

“That’s tonight?” you asked, eyes perking up but sliding subtly in Tomura’s direction. “Sorry, I think Tomura and I are gonna be working on this project for a while longer and I’m kinda burnt out. But next time, yeah?”

Spinner rolled his eyes but nodded and kicked off the wall. “That’s not very sexy of you,” he chided and waved a hand in parting. “Gonna work yourself directly into the fucking grave.”

“Jokes on you, I welcome death.”

You buried yourself in the screen again and Tomura actually felt a bit grateful for you ending the conversation before he got too painfully awkward.

But Spinner stopped before he left, looking Tomura up and down from the frayed strings of his black hoodie to the tips of his worn red sneakers.

“Nice to meet you, man,” he said with a wide grin. “Feel free to tag along next time if you want, we always need more players.”

The door clicked softly shut behind him and Tomura relaxed back into the silence.

He did end up tagging along—though he spent most of the time hanging off your heels like a lost puppy—to the next meeting of your gaming club and the one after that. Frustratingly enough, he learned that your interests did also extend into skills as you almost bested him in a few rounds Smash. Your profile, lit only by the flashing screen lights, was even more striking outside of his imagined imitations.

So much so that it found its way into his head late at night when he was too tired to log onto his server. So much so that it had his cock growing firm and tenting his grey sweats without even the visual aid of his go to porn clips. So much so that sometimes, he felt inclined to do something about the throbbing between his legs. So much so that he thought about the way you picked the skin by your fingers. How it looked like his. How your hand might feel like his but softer. Smoother around the edges. With your sweet voice whispering in his ear, making him whine and pant and spill white ropes of release onto his stomach.

But it was only because you were hot.

And you were practically begging for him to jack off to the thought of you with those outfits and liking all the shit he liked and noticing when he shrunk away from conversations or including him in them when he started to feel that awful sense of fading into the background.

Yeah.

Everybody jerks it sometimes to their group project partners if their ass is nice enough.

Right?

---

Dabi’s mouth was wet and so fucking warm as he swallowed around Tomura’s dick.

“Oh fuck…” he groaned as Dabi hummed around his length and did that thing where he flicked the ball of his tongue ring over Tomura’s slit.

Bright blue eyes stared up through deceptively long lashes, smirking at the way Tomura drooled as he got his soul sucked out the tip of dick. The mattress underneath him creaked at the negligible weight of both their bodies. Dabi settled on his stomach between Tomura’s pale thighs leaving fingerprint bruises in soft flesh.

They did this sometimes, though he wasn’t not quite sure when exactly it started. Dabi had been his randomly assigned roommate freshman year and he grew so used to living with him that the two of them had just silently, yet mutually agreed not to fuck something up that wasn’t broken. They both berated each other for their strange and somewhat disgusting habits—Dabi would say that Tomura was a gross shut in creep who needed a fucking shower and Tomura called Dabi out on his slutty pastimes and obsession with piercing the hell out of every available inch of skin.

And sometimes they sucked each other off.

It was overall not a terrible arrangement—Dabi got his fill of dick and Tomura could no longer be made fun of for being completely inexperienced. Plus, as much as he was loathe to admit, Dabi was really fucking good at oral. Like, demonically good. He’d been going down on Tomura for so long now too that he’d learned all the things that had him spilling onto that pierced tongue in minutes.

Tomura jerked from his thoughts when two, lube slicked fingers prodding at his ass.

“Dabi, what the fuck are you—” he protested, wiggling his scrawny hips up the bed and inadvertently letting his cock slip out of the inviting heat between his roommate’s lips.

He couldn’t see much other than the shaking mop of black hair and pale hands with chipped black nail polish digging into his legs and yanking him back.

“Shut up freak,” Dabi slurred, words slick with spit and Tomura’s precum. Dabi said it tasted like battery acid, but it never stopped him from guzzling it like he did with cheap whiskey and cigarettes on the weekends. “I know you like it.”

He did like it but he wasn’t about to contribute to the fucking manic grin Dabi was giving him as he circled the tight ring of muscle, slipping in a finger to the first knuckle.

Tomura’s head flopped back on the pillows as he bit back a low moan, “Fuck off.”

“If you say so,” Dabi shoved his finger in roughly, squeezing a second in behind it and letting Tomura bask in the burn of being stretched too quickly before ripping his hands away.

“No!” Tomura wailed pretty fucking shamelessly and grabbed the retreating wrist, placing Dabi’s tatted hand back on his dick that throbbed and leaked painfully.

“Dude, what’s gotten the fuck into you?” his roommate asked, smirking still, but pumping his cock loosely nonetheless. “Our walls are thin as hell, you know I can hear you jerkin it in here every night, and now you’re practically begging for me to suck you off. Usually I gotta come to you.”

He was infuriatingly right again.

Tomura had indeed asked for him to do this, which was definitely out of character for him. Most of the time they ended up in this position, it was because Dabi spent hours hounding him about it or just fucking dropped to his knees and whipped Tomura’s cock out in the middle of a movie night or snuck into his room while Tomura was gaming and swallowed him whole just to laugh at the way his online friends reacted to the noises.

He’s just been so pent up lately, and you insisting on fucking touching his arm or sitting on the floor between his feet at League meetings was really not helping it.

“I don’t know,” Tomura lied, both to Dabi and himself in the hopes that the head of black hair would just go back to bobbing on his dick like he so desperately needed it to.

“Bro, I have fucked with enough people to know when they’re wishing I was someone else,” Dabi scoffed and ran a blessedly hot tongue from base to tip and suckled softly at the blush pink head before pulling back with a wet pop. “So who is it?”

“I’m not fucking thinking about anyone,” Tomura hissed, fisting Dabi’s spiky, black locks and thrusting into his mouth till he felt the contractions of Dabi gagging around his length. “Usually you're jumping at the chance to get dick in your mouth, so why does it matter?”

Dabi pulled back, wiping the silvery string of spit leaking past his lips away and scowling as his fingers ghosted over Tomura’s balls and sank back into his pliant ass.

“Seriously creep, I’m five seconds away from ghosting and you can fuck your hand like the sad little bitch you are. So tell me their name or I’m walking right now.”

Tomura huffed as he felt Dabi’s long, rough fingers pulled from him again and the heat of his mouth growing farther away.

“Ugh fine, it’s that bitch I’ve been working on the English thing with.”

Dabi made a face like his brain was buffering.

“Seriously?” he asked, mouth gaping in a way that had Tomura even more furious his dick wasn’t buried in it.

“Yes!” he shouted and grabbed Dabi’s cheeks in both hands, sinking past his waiting lips and practically purring when he felt them close around the base as his long tongue massaged the shaft. “Oh god yes…”

Dabi rolled his eyes, managing to look smug even with a cock stretching his lips taught against the piercings. He used to try and tease Tomura about how small his dick was, but it was hard to believe him. Especially with how he choked sometimes when Tomura got rough with him despite his boasts of lacking a gag reflex. Not to mention how he looked now, jaw probably aching with the stretch and loving every second of it.

Tomura lazily bucked his hips up and whined high when the fingers in his ass curled and thrust against that fucking spot he hadn’t known was there until Dabi found it for him.

The pleased sound he made tapered off into a growl though, when his roommate with questionable benefits pulled off again to run his slutty fucking mouth.

“Tell me about it,” he mumbled, kitten licking at Tomura’s cock and running the ball of his piercing through the slit again. Tomura gulped when he pulled it back into his mouth to swallow the bead of precum he’d collected. “I’ve seen your fucking paramour around before, pretty serious about school though. And Kinda out of your league too, not gonna lie. So, what would you do if your cute little partner was here instead?”

Tomura bristled at the insult but couldn’t keep his pissed off look when Dabi went back to sucking his cock like a pro and curling those fucking fingers against his prostate. When he did speak, he blushed hard at the way his voice cracked and sounded like he was crying.

“I don’t fucking—holy shit—know,” he gasped and Dabi hummed both to egg him on and to get a whole new wave of precum gushing out of Tomura’s dick.

“C’mon man,” Dabi groaned, and Tomura distinctly heard the sound of a pants zipper and felt Dabi’s hips canting against the sheets.

That fucking masochistic whore. He would get off to Tomura dirty talking about someone else while he sucked his dick.

He considered stopping the whole thing right there, but then Dabi was sinking a third finger into his ass and thrusting hard while he hallowed his cheeks around Tomura’s cock and sucked—

“Tits!” Tomura cried and covered his burning, red cheeks with his hands. “I want to put my fucking face in them and taste them in my mouth. Sometimes I can see the outline of their nipples when we’re working and the air conditioning comes on and I want to suck on them so fucking bad I can’t think about anything else the whole night.”

Once he got started, Tomura found the words just spilled from him like a dam had burst. Dabi, the depraved bastard, groaned loud and ground his pierced dick harder against the mattress as he continued to deep throat Tomura’s cock and fuck his ass at the perfect angle.

“Sometimes when they drag me to their stupid club I lose the rounds cause I—oh god, oh fuck—just imagine them in my lap, sitting on my cock and fucking writhing and squeezing me while we face off. Such a fucking—Dabi more!—stereotypical try-hard, bitch but I want to be inside them so fucking bad,” he felt actual tears stinging the raw corners of his eyes when Dabi sped up on his dick.

Tomura scrapped his nails against Dabi’s scalp, holding on for dear life as his breathing became even more ragged than usual. His friend’s cruelty streak reared its ugly head as Dabi sensed the tensing of Tomura’s balls and the clench of his tight ass and slowed down a fraction, keeping him teetering on the edge of an explosively pleasurable release.

“Fucking asshole,” he growled, but didn’t dare try to fuck Dabi’s face lest he make good on his threat to leave Tomura high and dry. “I just—shit, ah, don’t stop—they talk to me sometimes and I just wanna suck their tongue into my mouth so they shut up and I need to hear them fucking falling apart for me or using that stupid, stuck up teacher voice on me and fucking my ass—Dabi Fuck—is that what you wanted to hear?”

Dabi, because he got off on being a little shit, gave him one last delicious swallow before pulling back and fisting Tomura’s sopping wet cock. The fingers had stopped thrusting and were now pressed hard against his prostate, sending shocks through his body and making him twitch violently as his blood rushed with endorphins. He never stopped grinding his own dick against Tomura’s cotton sheets the whole time.

“You got it bad huh, don’t ya creep,” he mused, letting a fat glob of spit fall from his lips and keep his palm slick. “That’s the most I’ve ever heard you talk about fucking anything, much less another actual person.”

“No I fucking don’t, “ Tomura writhed against the pillows, giving in to the undeniable urge to simultaneously fuck up into Dabi’s hand and ride his fingers.

“Who knew you were such a desperate whore, falling for the first person to show you a modicum of attention,” Dabi jeered and squeezed the tip of his dick hard, listening to Tomura let out a choked sob. “I’m actually kinda proud of you, bro. My little neckbeard baby’s growing up.”

Dabi cooed at Tomura, sinking sharp teeth deep into the meat of his thigh and sucking a bruise into the flesh.

“You’re the one—nghh—getting off on it,” Tomura clapped back but didn’t bother denying it again.

There was a sense of dread growing in his gut alongside the mounting pleasure of his orgasm that Dabi was currently holding hostage. Dabi may have had a dickish personality just as massive as the actual dick that was currently painting Tomura’s comforter in stains, but he knew him.

And he did, admittedly have much more experience with these types of things than Tomura.

“Fuck yeah I am,” Dabi grunted. “Last time I let you return the favor you bit my fucking cock. I gotta get off somehow.”

“Don’t say rude shit to me and I won’t bite you.”

“Watch it, Tomura,” Dabi huffed and nipped at his thigh again. “You should be thanking me for my services.”

“Not if you’re gonna keep running your mouth instead of sucking me off,” he tried to sound intimidating but he was well and truly wrecked and couldn’t find the energy to give his words an edge.

“You should ask them out,” Dabi continued, ignoring Tomura’s failed attempts at banter. “Bring ‘em over or some shit. Maybe then if I lock down that blonde piece of ass I’ve been talking to, we’ll both have much more interesting things to go down on.”

“Your whore ass is the one always jumping me, don’t act like it’s a fucking chore,” Tomura groaned as Dabi started licking at his cock again, pressing sloppy, half kisses on the tip as he jerked it in his fist.

“Not my fault I get bored sometimes,” he replied and closed his eyes as Tomura clenched particularly hard around Dabi’s relentless fingers. “But seriously, you should go for it. I’d kill to find out if you’re just as bad at eating pussy as you are sucking dick.”

“Fuck y—” Tomura started to say when Dabi reared up till they were chest to chest and their foreheads knocked together.

“I fucking will if you don’t shut up, creep, and I think it’d be so much better if you handed your fucking virginity to that pretty little partner bitch instead,” he said and stunned Tomura into silence when he licked into his mouth.

Dabi had kissed him before, but Tomura could count the number of occasions on one hand and almost all had been when his punk ass roommate was drunk as hell and in his feels about some tortured past. But Dabi’s eyes were bright and lucid now, blinking down at Tomura as he dragged their tongues together, flooding his mouth with the faint taste of cigarettes and jizz.

Their cocks brushed together too, the stimulation making Tomura whine into Dabi’s lips, who dropped a merciful hand down, taking them both in his fist and began pumping.

He didn’t stop as he pulled back, grinning down at Tomura like a fucking maniac—all shitty tattoos and silver piercings. The little barbels that stuck through Dabi’s nipples brushed against his own and made him moan at the cool metal and hot skin on his sensitive chest. Tomura was fucking sensitive everywhere, as Dabi had helped him discover, probably from a lifetime of being touched more by cheap sweatshirts than human hands.

“Now,” Dabi grunted as he thrust loosely against Tomura’s cock and his own fist before pulling away to settle back between his legs. “Shut up and cum down my throat—gotta give your virgin ass a refresher on mind shattering orgasms, so you know if that bitch is any good or not.”

Tomura’s tongue was halfway around a witty comeback when Dabi swallowed him to the hilt once again and started working his ass even harder. He really fucked hoped the neighbors were not home to hear him get his shit rocked at 2pm on a fucking Tuesday, cause Dabi might have been flunking out of his classes but he’d get a goddamn a plus for sucking dick.

The hand on his thigh, spreading him open, migrated to his hip so that Tomura could snap his legs shut hard around Dabi’s ring littered ears as he guided Tomura to grind down on his hand. The pressure in his gut built up exponentially higher now that Dabi wasn’t trying to hold him on the edge of climax. It took an embarrassingly short amount of time for him to acquiesce to Dabi’s request, as he tightened up in a full body clench before gripping Dabi’s hair and spilling rope after rope of hot, sticky release straight onto his roommate’s tongue.

Dabi, the fucking slut, made a show of swallowing every drop that spilled from Tomura’s abused cock, milking his prostate the whole time and only letting Tomura slip from his mouth when he was soft and finally spent.

The fingers in his ass remained though, still for the most part and slowly dipping in and out every so often. Tomura whimpered and clenched but was somewhat thankful for the remaining feeling of fullness.

“So, did you really mean all that?” Dabi asked with his signature smirk. “You really want your group project partner to cockwarm you and fuck your tight little ass?”

“Fuck off,” Tomura scowled and smacked Dabi hard across the face with an errant pillow.

Dabi yanked it from his grasp and tossed his ammunition onto the floor. “Hey, it’s not actually too bad in here,” he wiggled his fingers for emphasis which elicited an embarrassingly high gasp from Tomura, “give ‘em my number if you need a reference for asshole tightness.”

“Get the fuck out of my ass and my room,” Tomura kicked at Dabi’s back as it shook with laughter that lacked it’s usual sneering bite.

“What? Saving the cuddles for your new S/O?” he shot back and nuzzled his cum and spit covered face into Tomura’s neck.

With their chests pressed together, Tomura could feel the cooling, sticky remnants of Dabi’s own release coating his stomach. He squirmed against the feeling and pushed at the offending chest until his friend flopped down onto the scant space left between the mattress and the wall.

“Ew,” Tomura ran a finger through the mess Dabi had left smeared on him. “I’m taking a fucking shower.”

“God, finally!” Dabi exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air and producing a cigarette from god knows where. He let the paper rest between his lips unlit. “I should have thought about getting you fucked out on the reg earlier, creep, if it’ll stop you smelling like ass.”

Tomura launched the discarded pillow which hit it’s mark with a dull thump.

“You better be fucking gone when I get back,” he hissed and stumbled naked, on shaking legs into the hall and to their shared bathroom.

Dabi’s cackling followed him until the door shut and the lock clicked behind him. Tomura turned the water on quickly, letting steam cloud the mirror before he jumped under the spray. The only products on the shelves were Dabi’s for the most part with the exception of a store brand bar of soap and some 3 in one shampoo, conditioner, and body wash.

Tomura new he should clean himself more often, but his skin was so fucking raw all the time it hurt to do, so he mostly avoided it unless the smell got really unbearable—or Dabi was painting him in jizz whenever the opportunity presented itself.

He tried to get in and out as quickly as possible so he didn’t have the opportunity to think too hard about the admission his fuck buddy roommate had pulled from him mid blow job. Because if he did, in his post nut, clingy state, he’d most certainly imagine you were with him, tits pressed against his back and your soft, insistent tongue dipping past his lips, tasting like fruit gum and expensive cafe drinks instead of nicotine and cum.

And he really couldn’t handle that, cause Dabi was right, he had something fucking bad for you and the thought of another rejection loomed large.

When he did towel himself off and shuffle, still naked back into his bedroom Dabi was nowhere to be seen. Tomura’s phone however, was left sitting right next to the jizz stain on his sheets. He frowned at the open balcony door where Dabi was no doubt smoking and snatched the device before tumbling onto the pillows.

He powered it on and scrolled through his notifs before one caught his eyes. You and Dabi were really the only people that ever texted him, but the contact name above this one had changed.

bitch (endearing)

— hey, starting an impromptu round of Smash soon if you’re interested <3

The stupid text heart made his chest throb and he stared at Dabi’s new nickname for you, not even noticing the fucking grin that tugged at his cheeks.

He bit his lip to stop the twitching when it pulled too hard at the chapped skin and scrambled for his clothes before shooting a quick confirmation text back. Tomura opted for his only pair of black jeans this time instead of sweats and the least stained sweatshirt he owned.

Dabi peaked around the corner when he heard the clink of Tomura’s keys. The bastard was smoking in just a pair of underwear that left half his ass on display for all the whole fucking street. He smirked, quirking his eyebrows and bringing his hands up to slip his index finger through the circle of his middle and thumb on the other hand in a silent, vulgar gesture.

“Screw off,” Tomura shouted over his shoulder and made for the door.

“Wrap it before you tap it, bro!” Dabi called after him, cut off by the slamming door.

Tomura took the stairs two at a time, pulling out his phone and tucking the hood over his damp hair, this time to hide the growing smile playing at his lips.

---

Your project was almost complete.

In some ways, it sort of felt like the end of an era. To Tomura, who was, by nature, a creature of habit, it was doubly strange to imagine no longer spending hours a few days each week locked away in your little study room with you bugging him to teach you simple html and him not-so-discreetly sniffing your hair.

He still hadn’t asked you out or whatever he’d been trying to do, much to Dabi’s chagrin. And because of this, Tomura was consistently plagued with the feeling of time running out.

You were supposed to meet today for probably the last time seeing as the presentation was coming up at the end of the week. He knew it was now or never at this point. If he didn’t fucking say something now, he never would and then he’d have to live with the same his roommate wouldn’t let him live down.

So instead of heading directly to the library after class, Tomura took the old route back to his apartment and shot you a quick text—praying to the fucking boner gods, as Dabi called them, that you’d take the bait.

hey would you mind putting the finish touches on shit at my place?—

there’s some parts i gotta do from my desktop—

It wasn’t completely a lie. It was nicer working from his pc setup, but before he wouldn’t have let you come anywhere fucking near there. Not until he’d finally accepted that you’d wormed your way into his brain somehow and he couldn’t live another day not knowing what your tongue tasted like.

bitch (endearing)

—no problem

—what’s your address?

Tomura’s heart fucking pounded mercilessly against the bony prison of his ribs. It wasn’t like he was a stranger to some good old fashioned anxiety, but he’d never felt a strange stirring in his stomach quite like this. Like he might puke, but in a good way.

He quickly sent back his street and apartment number, and waited on the corner for you to text back that you’d be there in an hour before he rushed inside.

“What the hell are you doing, creep?!” Dabi snapped at him when he burst through the door and yeeted his backpack onto the kitchen table.

Tomura didn’t answer, just made a beeline for the bathroom and slammed the door. He doused himself in record time, unbothered by the hot water causing red, patchy flare ups to bloom over his skin. He was almost disgusted with himself for putting in this much effort for someone like you. Someone being definitely kind of a slut if the way you dressed was a good indicator. But he just kept thinking about the way your hair or skin smelled so goddamn good when you leaned in close and he wanted you to be obsessed with him in the same way. Wanted you to want to bury your face in his neck and breath him in.

When he stumbled out into the hall moments later, towel drying his hair roughly, Dabi was taking a shot over the sink.

He looked at Tomura like hell had frozen over.

“Two showers in like a month?” he mused, sucking his teeth as the alcohol slid down his throat. “What’s the occasion? The fucking, second coming of Christ?”

“Well the bitch is coming over so…”

“Oh, that is a fucking miracle,” Dabi whistled and knocked back a second shot.

Tomura glared, stepping into his room and tossing his towel aside to tug on his nicest pair of black joggers and t-shirt that gapped a bit at the front, showing off a large expanse of his chest. It made him a bit nervous even just looking at his reflection but you definitely stared the few times he’d taken off his hoodie while you were working, so the risk seemed worth the reward.

“Yeah, well you’re gonna have to piss off for the night,” Tomura shouted into the kitchen as Dabi sauntered over to lean against his doorframe.

“You know, I conveniently do have a dick appointment with my own bitch, but now I don’t want to go.”

His tone was teasing, eyes hooded and clearly enjoying how flustered Tomura was already before you’d even gotten here. Tomura moved to snatch another pillow and do battle but Dabi raised his hands up quickly in defeat.

“Oh no, no, I just fucking did my hair for this Keigo asshole you are not gonna ruin it with that petty shit,” he shot back and disappeared somewhere into his own room. “I’ll be out of your greasy ass hair don’t worry.”

Tomura seethed and bit back of reply of his hair for once not being greasy as hell, but the multiple cum stains—both his and his nasty fucking roommates—marring the comforter caught his eye.

“Ugh,” he mumbled and balled the whole thing up, shoving it under the bed and spreading out one of his merch blankets from that manga you both liked.

Hopefully you wouldn’t think that was too cringey, but he had definitely seen your room plastered with merch in the background of your social media profiles which he totally did not stalk at all and maybe jerk off to on occasion.

The rest of his room was quickly cleared by a combination of shoving random crap into his closet and filling up their recycling bin to the brim with empty energy drink cans. He tackled the kitchen next which wasn’t as hard as he’d expected. Neither he nor Dabi cooked all that frequently, so the dishes weren’t an issue and the vague, lingering smell of whatever the fuck Dabi had been smoking early was cleared out a bit by leaving the balcony door ajar.

He checked the time on his phone obsessively, about ready to pound on Dabi’s door and throw him out on the step when the man in question emerged on his own—black platform boots donned with his ass hugging ripped jeans and loose tank top. He had on fucking eyeliner.

God and he thought Tomura was being desperate.

“What? Wishing you’d locked this down first?” Dabi sneered, grabbing his jacket from the rack and shoulder checking Tomura on his way to the door.

“I—” he stammered for a second, bristling as Dabi towered over him a bit in those fucking boots. “No, asshole, just leave before they get here.”

But at the exact moment that Dabi rolled his eyes and flung open the door, Tomura’s phone buzzed in his pocket. Looking up in mingled horror and embarrassment, he watched the door hit the wall and reveal you, a little more casually dressed than usual looking stunned as Dabi grinned down at you with pierced lips.

“Hi, I’m-” you started but Tomura’s live-in nightmare cut you off.

“Oh I know who you are, dollface,” Dabi wiggled his fucking eyebrows at you, clearly playing up the dramatics as much as possible to a degree even Tomura didn’t think he could pull off. “Name’s Dabi—”

“Uh, yeah and he was just leaving,” Tomura hissed and placed his shoulder firmly in the center of his roommate’s back, launching him onto the welcome mat as you side-stepped through the door.

“Yeah, see ya later creep,” he fucking winked as the door slammed shut in his face.

Tomura’s cheeks burned in the following silence which was only broken by your quiet chuckle. He noticed you did that a lot. Laughed at things without even thinking about whether it would sound weird.

“He seems like a lot,” you mumbled and glanced around at the living room/kitchen/foyer of his tiny apartment.

“Yeah…”

He thought he might feel the same sort of disturbance he usually did when Dabi brought his dates home but you seemed to fit easily into the space, unobtrusive but bright against the dingy walls.

“So, should we get to it?” you asked with a wry smile, spinning to face him and silhouetted by the sun set filtering in past the balcony.

He may not have felt the usual discomfort of intruders in his space, but his hands shook where he clutched at his thighs nonetheless. And just like always, if you noticed the bunched up fabric and the not so slight tremor in his bony arms, you didn’t say a thing about it.

You looked so good propped up on his bed, back against the wall and legs dangling off the sides as the now strangely comforting sound of your furious typing filled his room. It had been a few hours now, and Dabi had been true to his work, seemingly gone until tomorrow morning. The room was lit only by your screens and his small desk lamp that lit up your legs like a stage spot light.

His mind fogged over more than once with the fantasy of laying in between them.

“I just shared the final bit of script,” you said, breaking the comfortable silence.

The notification pinged at the top of his screen and he hummed in acknowledgement, plugging in your last pieces of text and saving the program.

And just like that.

It was over.

“I think we’re done,” Tomura whispered.

He didn’t really mean to say it so softly but it felt strange to talk at full volume so he just rasped out the words, knowing you wouldn’t care how shitty his voice sounded.

There was a creak and soft footsteps behind him as you shuffled off the bed and over to his desk, hands resting way too close to his shoulders than necessary while you leaned over his chair to look at the finished product.

It was still a little rough around the edges but Tomura found himself feeling a little swell of satisfaction now that it was complete. All things considered, you’d come up with a pretty damn good concept and he liked knowing he played a role in helping it come to fruition.

The piece you picked was weird as shit. Some political satire about eating babies, lots of juxtaposition about the private life versus the public self and some bullshit rants on the nature of humanity blah blah blah.

It actually reminded him of you a little bit, now that he thought about it and used your position as an excuse to stare intently at your eyes scanning the screen. Not the eating babies thing, but the whole private self stuff. In the half semester he’d spent locked away with you in quiet rooms and noisy, dimly lit basements, he could see such a stark contrast between the you he’d known from class all those weeks ago and the you currently sighing in relief over his shoulder.

Softer, more real—not so Stacy, bimbo, pick me slut like he’d always imagined you to be.

“Damn, we did it my guy,” you nodded, clearly impressed with yourself and him as well, which had Tomura’s chest puffing out just a bit under the attention. “I could fucking kiss you, I thought we’d never get it done.”

You turned to him, eyes closed in a half laugh but Tomura was so far from laughing. Cause you were really, really fucking close and he could smell you again and you’d been chewing that fucking gum cause it was hot on your breath and he knew, he really did, that you were kidding, that tis was just a thing people say when they’re relieved but he couldn’t help the weird, deer in the headlights stare that his face froze in.

Blinking, you raised your eyebrows at him questioningly when he didn’t make some crude comment about your chest brushing against his arm or shrug you off like he might have before.

And then you got this knowing, little mischievous look that reminds him far too much of Dabi for a split second before you pressed your face just an inch closer.

His eyes flicked down instinctively to your lips and his face burned when realized there was no way you didn’t see the way he looked at you. Shockingly, despite the churning in his gut and the shaking in his legs, Tomura leaned forward just a bit too, working up just enough scant courage to maybe close the gap, but then you started laughing?

It bubbled up quietly in your chest, more of a giggle than anything else.

You were laughing and shaking your head and his stomach fucking dropped to the ground and his face was on fire cause you were laughing and that meant he’d been fucking played like a goddamn fiddle but—

But then you gave him this faint smile and you weren't laughing anymore, because you were kissing him.

You were fucking kissing him.

Which, while yes he had set out to have this be the end goal of the night, he hadn’t actually believed it would ever happen. He’d never felt it in his bones, like he was supposed to.

And holy shit your lips were so soft??

So soft and smooth with no cool, sharp metal poking or pulling at the splits on his. It was like fucking crack, or what he imagined crack might be like with the way your mouth just glided against his. It was so easy to follow you, which was good cause he didn’t have a goddamn clue what he was doing for the most part. But you made it feel simple, and you even ran your tongue over the little scar that bisected his lips in this painfully adorable way that had Tomura pitching a tent in his pants like lightning.

God but when you pulled back and just enough to look him in the eye—

It was like every one of those cutesy, shojo manga suddenly made sense. The panels where the main character’s look at each other and flowers bloom off the fucking page while they stare with those dark, hungry eyes—

Yeah.

Yeah he got it now.

And he was gonna ride that wave while he had it. So Tomura steeled himself and surged forward, grabbing both your arms and smashing his face much less gracefully against yours. He stood and you straightened with him, that same half giggle slipping out in the gaps where your lips parted on his as he clacked your teeth together and pulled back at the jarring sting.

“Eager are we?” you have that stupid smile on your face again but he honestly didn’t care anymore if it was an act or if your face really just looked like that with no fucking ulterior motive.

“Shut up,” he muttered, trying to catch your lips again and you mercifully let him.

And Tomura nearly fucking came in his pants when your licked into his mouth and oh fucking god he really could taste the gum and that loud ass shit you were always drinking. Dabi was right, this was a fucking miracle. Did other people always taste this good or was it just you?

He responded enthusiastically to say the least, sucking your tongue into his mouth and letting out a choked little noise when you licked at the back of his teeth. The movement of your legs, pulling him back towards the bed went mostly unnoticed until he felt himself tipping forward, landing with a thump on top of you as you both tumbled onto his mattress.

Tomura’s lips wondered boldly down your throat, smelling the soap or lotion or whatever the hell made you so fucking baby smooth compared to him and he actually growled into your nape when you laughed again.

“God, what the fuck is so funny?” he sounded muffled from where he was tonguing at the fleshy joining of your neck and shoulder.

“Sorry, sorry,” you pressed your lips against the peeling crown of his head and that alone made up for the interruption, “I’m just basking in the glory of being right.”

“About?” Tomura nipped at your skin once before lifting his chin to rest on your sternum.

“I just always thought you were sorta into me, but it was hard to tell cause you’re so quiet about that sorta thing.”

“....oh,” he didn’t really have an argument for that so he didn’t try to fight you.

“Did you think I didn’t notice all the convenient excuses to touch me or like the fact that you’re mean as shit to everyone else but me?“ you asked not unkindly as you stroked a hand through his hair, frizzy from being left to air dry. “I also got the vibes you thought I was kinda a slut anyway and it wasn’t super clear if that was a turn on or not.”

He cringed a bit at the blatant way you acknowledged all ruder inner monologues about your character.

“Well, I did a bit initially,” Tomura glanced off to the side, suddenly finding the chipping paint much more fascinating. God he really wanted to get back to the good stuff. “But I don’t now…”

“Oh no,” you cupped his face, running a thumb against the cracked skin on his cheeks and didn’t cringe when the drying skin flaked onto your shirt, “that was a pretty astute assumption.”

“Uh, what?”

He felt his draw drop and you dipped your thumb past his front row of teeth, towing with the pooling saliva.

“All the better for you though,” you continued dragging his chest against yours so he could feel your nipples through his shirt, “cause that just means I know how to show you a good time, and I get the feeling you’ve never had that happen before.”

You punctuated your words with roll of your hips against the fucking iron rod in his pants. The noise that left Tomura was inhuman. He thought back to the day you got partnered with him. How he thought it would be a fucking nightmare and Tomura wanted to let the record show that he officially retracted that statement. This was in no uncertain terms, actually a wet dream come true and he was sure Dabi would never fucking believe him unless he walked through the door right now.

“That works,” he stuttered around the finger in his mouth and you reared up to wrap your legs around his waist.

Your lips found his again and he hummed in approval only cut off as you rolled so he was laying back and looking up. When you pulled away, he shivered at the way you raked your nails over his chest.

“So, you gonna tell me how much of a disgusting whore you think I am?”

---

“I don’t—”

He couldn't finish the sentence, not when you were grinding down on him like that. How the hell did you even know how to move your hips in those little circles? Was there some Being a Massive Slut for Dummies book he was missing out on or?

“C’mon, Tomura, we’ve been through this,” you sighed and leaned down to such a trail of sloppy kisses from his jaw to his ear, biting down on the soft flesh, “I know you’ve been thinking so much nasty shit about me, the least you can do is let me hear it.”

Those hands on his chest were moving again, curling into the hem of his t-shirt and tugging until it was over his head and tossed aside on the floor. On an embarrassing instinct, Tomura’s hands shot up to cover himself, only stopped when you leaned onto your haunches and tugged off your own.

“Shit,” Tomura whispered.

You weren’t wearing anything underneath.

He drank in the sight of those cute fucking tits he’d only ever caught glimpses of through those low cut tops you always wore. You grinned down at him, both hands coming up to play with your chest, fingers pinching and rolling the pretty buds. Tomura felt drool slip from the corner of his mouth.

“Is that all you got?”

He wasn’t completely in control of his body as it catapulted off the bed to smash his face between your squished up tits, but neither of you were complaining if the sounds that followed were any indication. You hummed happily as he pressed his cheeks to the warm, soft flesh and his lips closed around your nipple, sucking and laving his tongue over the pebbled skin.

“You really wanted everyone to see these, huh?” he meant the words to have more bite but it was hard with your fucking boob in his mouth.

And he wasn’t looking to stop suckling at you anytime soon so….

“They’re nice tits, what can I say,” you shot back and he couldn’t wait to have you fucked so stupid all those witty one-liners would die on your tongue.

You fucking tasted so good. He hadn’t ever thought that tits would have a fucking taste but it was like some odd combination of skin and spit and it was addictive.

“Got a whole fucking eye full that first time you talked to me in class,” he growled, sinking his teeth in hard enough to leave a mark around your nipple. “Fucking parading them around every time you leaned over. Thought you were so fucking desperate for attention.”

If you really wanted to know all the vile, gross shit he thought on the daily then who was he to deny you that pleasure.

Cause you were definitely feeling some type of way about it based on the way your fingers threaded through his hair and held him to your chest as he tongued and bit at the skin.

“Think I’m just a stupid attention whore, is that it?” you moaned when he switched breasts, palm kneading at the one he’d abandoned.

“I think you’re a useless slut who’ll do anything to get a guy to fucking look your way,” Tomura gasped and sunk his teeth in again.

A shiver ran through him at the whine leaving your lips.

He did that.

He needed to do more of that immediately.

“You like it when I call you a fucking slut?”

Tomura didn’t know what came over him in that moment—what weird spirit of horny confidence possessed his body—but suddenly, with a surge of motion, his hand left your chest and latched onto the smooth column of your throat. The move had actually been quite graceful until he tried to flip your positions and got his legs tangled with yours, resulting in more of a...sexy pile than the smooth transition of power he was going for.

You didn’t seem to mind though.

You never did.

Tomura guessed if he was going to admit something nice about you, then it would be that at least you were consistent.

“I do like it when you call me that,” you breathed into his ear, hands under his arms to haul him back over top of you and replace the hand at your throat with a smirk, “and you love that it’s true.”

Fuck.

He really did, now that he thought about it. All those message boards always talked about finding virgins who you could mold to your dick just like they were meant to be, but…he was so fucking anxious at the best of times, having those eyes that pissed him off and knew it made this so much more fun.

There was probably a more eloquent word than that, and you would probably more than willing to supply it, but the goal was to shut you up and he wasn’t gonna be okay with just coasting this time.

“God, you need to learn how to shut the fuck up,” he spat and subsequently yelped as you leaned forward, licking a wet trail up his chest before latching onto one of his nipples.

The flushed, pink skin disappeared into the heat of your mouth, leaving his dick twitching violently in his pants that had grown too tight and damp for comfort. The languid motion of your tongue over the rapidly pebbling flesh and the goldilocks perfect way in which you nipped at him was enough to corroborate all your claims of experience. With the constant, electric spark pleasure running from his chest to his pants, Tomura found formulating sentences a little challenging, so he just said the first thing that came to mind.

“Why don’t we give you something even better to with that fucking whore mouth, hm?”

It was cliche as hell, stolen straight from one of the admittedly plentiful pornos he’d watched in his day, but you just grinned and popped off his nipple, nodded frantically at the innuendo.

Those clever little fingers that seemed to type without ever stopping dropped to the waistband of his sweats and tugged them down his thighs. He kicked a bit awkwardly to get them off his ankles but you were already yanking the elastic of his boxers. You smiled up at him through your lashes as you tucked the fabric just under his balls and let your eyes wander slowly from his splotchy red chest to the patch of hair just at the base of his dick.

If he hadn’t known better, he might have thought you were drooling.

Tomura felt a bit more in his element here, having had some actual frame of reference—as his asshole roommate was so generous to provide—so he didn’t waste any time. Falling onto his back, he squirmed up the sheets until his head was resting on a pillow and you were crawling between his thighs. God and you and you had your ass up too, wiggling it back and forth like you were wagging your tail at just the thought of getting his cock in your mouth.

Well, since you were so eager, Tomura decided to jump right in. You seemed to like things a bit rough anyway, so he reached out, burying a hand roughly in your hair and plunging in.

The cute and kinda disgusting choking gasp you let out was addictive.

And now he fucking knew Dabi was lying about his dick being small, cause you had a big fucking mouth to talk all that shit and it was absolutely stuffed full. Your lips were stretched obscenely not even halfway down his shaft and your eyes were already pricked with tears at the edges. The fucking feel of your mouth was like how he imagine silk might feel, if it was soaked and scorching. Your throat constricted around him as you gagged and oh it was fucking cock sucking heaven he was in.

Tomura was almost tempted to grab his phone and snap a—

Actually, that was a fucking great idea.

His free hand fumbled for his pants, closing around his phone and unlocking it while you hummed and pulled back, bobbing your head twice before sinking back down, Your eyes flew open when the camera flash lit up the dark corner of his room. He could feel you trying to move away, to snap at him for taking his little keepsake but he quickly fisted your hair and bucked his hips up to keep you firmly on his dick.

“Oh no, you were so eager to suck me off, you’re gonna finish the fucking job before you breathe again,” he panted, holding the sides of your face and fucking your mouth in earnest.

He’d found it easy to simply follow the instinctive rhythm of his hips, constantly seeking out the wet heat source. Your eyes rolled back in your goddamn as his length slid past your lips over and over again

Holy shit it felt so good.

And it felt even better when he could see how much you loved it.

How much you loved his filthy fucking almost virgin cock shoved down your throat and he finally felt the vulgar dam in his mind break.

“I think about you all the time,” he gasped, keening high when you ran your tongue over his slit on ever upstroke, just how he liked it. “I lay here at night and fuck my hand and think about sinking into your tight fucking cunt. I wanna fill you up so bad, it’s the only thing on my mind whenever I talk to you.”

The only thing stopping him from cumming straight down your throat in that moment was sheer horny force of will.

“When you mouth off in class, all I hear is you just begging for someone to bend you over and fuck that cocky fucking arrogance right out of you,” below him, you reached a hand up, pinching hard at his nipple and humming at the squeal he made. “Fuck, and I want eat your pussy while you’re up there presenting this shit, so I can watch you try and keep it together so know one else knows what a fucking whore you are for me. Such a fucking slut for me.”

Something was washing over him, some weird, intense revelation of something that perhaps he’d always known but just needed the motivation of a fucking earth shattering blowjob to work out of him—that he wanted you. Really wanted you. Felt entitled to you. He’d spent so much mental energy obsessing over it, that really, no one else fucking deserved to touch you but him.

No one else would want you this much.

No one else would want him this much.

Your hands had found their way to his thighs and they were rubbing sweet little circles into the soft skin.

“You’d love that wouldn’t you?” his voice was wrecked, even more than usual, from the near constant string of high pitched whining “You’d love to have me fucking ruin you, make you cum all over my tongue in front of everyone. Let them fucking know who does that shit to you.”

You managed a nod, even with his cock buried deepdeepdeep in your throat. And Tomura was fucking twitching at the thought. The muscles in his legs jumped under your touch. A slimy mix of spit and precum was gushing down his length, slipping over his balls and slicking his ass. It was sloppy and the room was so full of the wet slap of his hips against your mouth.

It was so much, too much, oh shit, shit he didn’t want to cum like this—

“Wait, wait!” he cried, back arching with the agony of leaving the plush paradise between your lips. “Please—I wanna cum in you.”

You looked up at him, head hanging from his grip in your hair, with your jaw slack and dripping and nodded. He felt as though his ribs were lined with magnets that pulled him into your outstretched arms, kneeling as he pressed his mouth frantically to yours, uncaring of the mess of the faint taste of bitter precum.

There was something frantic in the air, like a switch had been flipped. The need to feel you, to be connected at every point— to get just a little bit more of what he’d earned—grew stronger with every passing second.

His lips were rough and raw and stung when you licked them but that only made it sweeter. You tongued at his teeth and sucked him into your mouth like he was warm food after months without. It was needy. Needy and ragged because you needed him.

You needed him.

What a fucking thought that was.

Your pants were quickly discarded along with his boxers, and for the first time in his life, Tomura didn’t care about all the exposed skin. He didn’t think about all the unsightly patches of irritation or scaring, because you never had. Not once had you ever stared or commented and you weren’t starting now. Your hands smoothed over every inch of him, just as desperate like he always knew you would be.

Because you were so—

Perfect.

Fucking disgusting.

Tomura let you fall back onto the mattress and whimpered at the feeling of your thighs hitched around his waist. He made the mistake of letting his eyes leave your mouth to glance down and oh, oh he was enraptured.

Dabi was right, he’d never actually seen a pussy in real life and holy shit.

His fingers gravitated immediately to your lips, fucking soaked, soaked in arousal that had smeared on your thighs.

“You get this fucking hot just from my cock in your mouth?” he asked, grinning as he collected some of the slick on his fingers and brought them curiously to his mouth.

Delicious.

“Yes—fuck—yes!” you whined and pulled him closer with your thighs.

“You want me to fuck you that bad?” his fingers ghosted over where he thought your clit might be and was rewarded when you moaned low as he brushed over a raised little bud. “Does this nasty little slut want me that fucking bad?”

“Please Tomura…” his name on your tongue was better than any crazy ass party drug Dabi ever brought home, “you have no fucking idea how long I’ve been wanting you so fucking deep in me—”

Your words cut off with a sob as he ran his fingers down, searching for your entrance and sinking in hard when he found it. And it was so nice in there. So fucking hot.

“What are you?” he asked, thrusting his fingers in and out, trying to remember how Dabi did it to him and what felt good.

He plunged them deep and curled up towards your belly and you sobbed, “A fucking slut!”

God he was so glad no one else was here to hear that.

This was just for him.

“And who’s fucking slut are you?”

He really could help himself, he just wanted to hear it so fucking bad.

“Yours,” you whined and rolled your hips down so his thumb caught on your clit and. “I’m your fucking slut!”

“Shit,” he rasped and ripped his fingers from you.

He wasn’t entirely conscious of his movements. There was just one, very loud voice, screaming in his head to bury his cock in that perfect fucking heat and suddenly his was gripping himself and pushing in and—

“Ahh, fucking god,” Tomura whimpered, body going limp as his tip was sheathed fully inside you.

His forehead dropped down to rest against yours, arms like half cooked pasta on either side of your head, failing to hold him up. You brought your arms up, sliding fingers through his hair and down his back as your ankles locked right above his ass to urge him forward.

Tomura’s cock sunk in inch by inch until he bottomed out with a groan. His mouth moved even when the rest of him couldn’t

“So tight…” he mumbled, head slipping into the crook of your neck and sucking lightly at the skin, feeling the comfort of it in his mouth. “Didn’t think it’d be this tight.”

“Are you trying to insult me or were you just a virgin?” you huffed out, but there was a laugh bubbling just behind the words.

He weakly held up to fingers to indicate the second, dropping them immediately to clutch at the sheets when you clamped down on his cock, nestled sweetly against your cervix.

“Wait really?” you asked, hands skimming up his back to grip his cheeks.

Tomura tried to hide himself in your shoulder, because the fucking dopey ass smile on his face would surely feed your ego and he didn’t need you knowing that your pussy had him fucking higher than a goddamn kite.

If only his bones hadn’t suddenly taken on all the physical properties of jello.

“I’ve fucked around before,” he said, which was technically true, “just never...like this.”

He didn’t even need to move—which, well, wasn’t entirely true he was burning with the urge to drive himself frantically into your dripping cunt—but he was so blissed out from just the soft, warm, tight hug of your walls around his cock that pulsed precum with ever clench, was enough.

What he wouldn’t give to have this all the time. Have you constantly sitting on his cock, keeping him warm and hard and cumming inside you.

At the reminder of why exactly he’d set out to do this, his body regained a bit of it’s former solidity.

“Oh,” you began, voice strained and hips shaking with the effort of not rocking back on his dick. “Well, you feel fucking amazing—”

Tomura cut you off with an experimental thrust. He pulled all the way back, watching as his tip just nearly popped out of your cute fucking hole and then snapped in again. You were a fucking mess above him, gripping at the pillows and then at his arms, dragging red scratches down the pale, fragile skin there.

It only spurred him on.

“You like that? Like my huge fucking cock in you?” he growled, flopping down so he could feel your nipples brush against his while he railed into you.

As much as you apparently enjoyed hearing all the filth that spewed from him, he really liked having a receptacle for it all. It had been hidden inside him for so long, the release was only made sweeter with the addition of your slutty fucking pussy clenching at every word.

“So fucking big, Tomura—”

You rocked up to slip your tongue into his mouth again, sucking softly at his rough lower lip and drinking down all the less than dominant cries that poured from him as his release grew again. He wasn’t really sure how to get you off, but you seemed to understand the intentions behind his hand wandering to nudge at the space he was driving his cock into.

Those soft fingers held his and guided them up to that nub he’d found before and moved his hand in little, rhythmic circles that had you fucking sobbing into his mouth.

Real tears streaked down your face as you moaned into him, “Oh fuck, yes Tomura, baby, just like that…!”

And for once, he had absolutely no qualms with doing exactly what you said. He wanted—needed—to know what it would feel like for you to cream all over his dick. Wanted to see the stupid fucking face you would make as he ripped you apart on his definitely massive length.

You were rocked back into ever thrust, drinking in the sound of slapping skin, mouth permanently attached to his—tongues locked together.

The taste of fruit gum mixed with salty cum and the smell of sweat and sex and cleanlaundryshampoo was fucking everywhere. It was intoxicating and heady and all he had ever needed.

Really, you weren’t so bad when you were crying on his cock.

And you were fucking crying, screaming for him—his name, calling him ‘baby’ in a way that had his heart stuttering uncomfortably in his throat and babbling about how good, how fucking perfect he felt inside.

“C’mon,” he grunted, “c’mon, I wanna see my fucking slut cum for me, all over my cock.”

And for once, you actually followed an order.

His fingers on your clit never gave up and he could fucking feel the orgasm wash over you. Your cunt spasmed and clamped hard like a vice, tighter than anything he ever could have imagined. And you choked out his name, so desperate:

“Tomura, fuck yes baby!”

God your face was so good, all scrunched up and then relaxing into a blissful, panting, open-mouth grin.

It was sort of beautiful.

But he wasn’t gonna fucking say that.

“Good fucking slut,” he said instead, and arched his chest into yours so he could feel the swell of your pretty tits against his chest.

And he almost fucking lost it right there but he needed more, needed to feel full too. The clenching of your pussy was so unmatched by any sensation but he guessed Dabi always called him a greedy whore for a reason.

His hand grabbed at yours—hips only letting up when he couldn’t actively get his dick out of you as you came—and brought it roughly to his lips. Tomura was still slick, covered in spit and sweat but he sucked two of your fingers into his mouth anyway. His tongue delved between them as you watched with wide eyes as he spat onto them and whined.

“I need—oh shit—inside, inside...fuck…”

He could fucking get his tongue to make words but he dragged your hand to his ass and prayed you’d get the hint. Prayed you’d fill him up too.

And you certainly delivered.

His hips started up their unforgiving rhythm again now that you’d rode out your release, slipping even more easily into your pussy with all the slick spilling out of you. God that would be his cum soon—his cum dripping out onto your thighs. Your feet dropped to the bed and Tomura grabbed your waist for leverage.

Your clever little finger circled his hole, wrist bent from the awkward angle below him but working nonetheless. His spit and precum made less than ideal lube but he welcomed the burn of you entering him. A second one joined behind the first and it was rough going for a moment until he was able to rock back fully, finding a certain bend of the knee and half thrust that had him simultaneously grinding into you and fucking himself on your fingers.

And then you managed to get deep enough to brush against that fucking spot, that magic fucking spot that had him seeing stars and screaming your name—not slut, not bitch, not some other fucking cruelty—your name and spilling rope after rope of hot cum against your walls.

Your eyes did that thing where they rolled halfway up and crossed like this was some fucking hentai and you weren’t knuckles deep in his ass while he came inside you.

Tomura went completely limp then, boneless like a cheap chicken wing and collapsed onto your chest, whimpering when your fingers left him empty but comforted by the rhythmic clenching of your cunt, warming his cock and keeping his cum safe inside.

“So good,” you whispered into his hair, soft palms smoothing over his back in slow circles. “Felt so good, Tomura. You were so good.”

He shivered in your arms, lulled by the feeling of your breasts under him and breathing in the mixture of soap and sex that radiated from your skin. Everything about it was strange, but in that wonderful kind of way that new games sometimes were. A tingling at the prospect of a new adventure, a new world, and a new journey to embark on.

You pressed your lips to his sweat slicked forehead and didn’t turn away in disgust.

No, instead you just held him on his cum soaked sheets and slept.

---

Tomura woke about an hour later, dick finally soft and tangled in a knot of limbs with you on his bed. You’d stretched and let him kiss you without asking, accepting his tongue on yours just as easily as you had before.

After detangling yourself from him, you left to take a shower and Tomura found that he couldn’t bare the notion of being apart from you for more than twenty minutes now even more than he couldn’t fucking stand showering, so he’d joined you anyway.

You didn’t talk much and neither did he, but it was that same comfortable silence you’d formed in your little study room hideout. He let you drag him under the spray just long enough to wash most of the jizz and spit from his thighs before he stepped back to lean on the tile and watch as you rinsed yourself.

Only once did you mention the rough, scaly skin on his neck and face. Your hand was gentle, roving over the cracks and asking him if he’d tried any soap for sensitive skin. That yours was like that too and you’d let him borrow some to try out. He blushed at the implication of seeing you again after this.

It was well past midnight when you toweled off and dried him as well. He lent you one of his few clean t-shirts and you wore it without any underwear. Tomura shameless stared at your bare ass when you bent over to strip the ruined comforter from his bed.

He thought about burying himself in you again, and because he hasn’t dressed yet—and you don’t push him away when he presses against you—he does. And you moan for him again when he fucks you from behind, just as rough but it all comes easier the second time around.

You told Tomura, later—when you were both exhausted again and stained with release—he was kinda a natural and something about the praise really got to him.

“You’d fucking know,” he snipped at you, curled on his side with his face in your tits.

This was his new favorite position, he’d decided and he snickered at the thought of planting his face right in your chest while you were both in class. He’d pay money to see the horrified look on your prim fucking face.

“Yes I would,” you hummed into his hairline, mouthing softly at the baby curls around his crown. “So, when are you gonna take me out?”

Tomura felt the loading circle of death spinning in his brain for a moment. Like a 404 error had occurred somewhere in amongst his neural pathways.

“I thought you said you were a slut?” he asked and almost immediately wished he could quit the game, even if it meant he had to replay all the scenes before this moment.

But you didn’t pull away.

You really never do.

He thought idly that you both must have some weirdo bug making you enjoy all the disgusting bits of the other.

“Well yeah, but that doesn’t mean you can’t take me on a date if that’s something you’d like,” you chuckled and he felt your chest rise with it and the breath on his forehead.

He nestled his face deeper into your tits, “yeahsurefinewhatever.”

The lips pressed to his head smiled but you didn’t say anything again for a long time. Not until both of you were drifting off again, falling into the trap of shared body heat and the odd human craving of skin against skin.

“Your freaky roommate isn’t going to walk in right?”

Tomura grumbled, mouthing at your nipple and suckling softly, “no, you’re mine now, he can’t have either of us.”

You signed contentedly for a moment, moaning lightly as he swiped his tongue over your sensitive skin before the words caught up to you.

“Wait, what?”

“Nothing, go to sleep.”

You didn’t push it any farther, or remove Tomura from his sucking at your tits. It was quite possibly the most peaceful night of sleep he’d ever gotten, which only ensured the fact that you would never be allowed to sleep anywhere else.

This was your responsibility now, after all, and you fucking loved responsibility so he didn’t see any problems.

Shockingly, Tomura did let you leave the next morning to grab some things from home and change clothes. He watched you walk down the sidewalk from his window and only meandered back into the kitchen when you turned a corner out of sight and the front door slammed open.

Dabi was plopped on the couch when he ventured out, shirtless and absolutely covered in hickeys. Tomura would have commented on it, but he knew he didn’t look much better and didn't want to invite the comparison.

“What the hell got into you, creep?” he asked incredulously, leering from the cushions, looking him up and down.

“I got into bitch (endearing),” he cupped his hands to form parenthesis in the air and grabbed a Monster from the fridge.

Dabi gaped, pushing himself up and not so subtly limping over to cage him against the counter, “No you fucking did not.”

“Did so,” he shot back, knocking his shoulder roughly into Dabi’s chest so he could stalk back into his room. “Looks more like someone got into you.”

You’d put him in such a weirdly pleasant mood, he really didn’t want to give that up, but Dabi was present, the bitch.

“We got into each other,” Dabi huffed, flopping down on Tomura’s bed and ruining your scent on his sheets, “No fucking way you had the balls dude.”

Impulsively—in part because he really needed to ego boost of proving Dabi wrong and to convince himself as well that last night (and this morning) had really happened—Tomura whipped out his phone, flashing that pretty picture of you choking on his dick right into that smug bastards face.

The fucking grin only grew wider.

“I’ll be fucking damned, creep,” he stood from the bed to get a closer look, but Tomura locked the screen quickly and shoved it back in his pocket. “How much did you have to pay her?”

“I don’t know what you have to do to get some,” Tomura scoffed, “but mine was free.”

Dabi looked like he had something smart to say back to that but Tomura didn’t want to hear it.

“Get out,” he called over his shoulder as he took Dabi’s place on his bed, inhaling the little wisps of you left over on the cotton. God he was never gonna wash these.

“Aw, don’t wanna give me all the details?”

He peaked up at Dabi, leaned against his doorframe.

“No, I have to get dressed,” he paused before the next words that left his mouth, hiding his face in the pillow so Dabi wouldn’t see the furious red of blood rushing to his cheeks. “I have a date later.”

---

“Stop fucking squirming,” you leaned forward to bite at Tomura’s lips as he shifted under you.

Your hands were gathering his hair and pulling it in twists to the side, tying the strands away from his face. It wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but your legs wrapped around his waist as he sat in his desk chair, cock soaked and deliciously warm in your pussy was harder to ignore. Especially when you clamped down on him every time he moved while you worked.

“Then get off my dick,” he snapped, leaning back in the chair for better leverage as he snapped his hips up. You looked straight out of those hentai memes, eyes almost crossing when he pushed you down to meet his thrust. “Fucking greedy slut.”

“Excuse-ah,” this time it was you bouncing on his length unprompted, “me, but I wasn’t the one with my cock out begging cause it was so cold.”

Your tone was entirely too even for his liking, and Tomura frowned as he dug his hands into your hips and made you grind into his lap. He really was dating such a fucking whore.

“Well, if you hadn’t fucking insisted we go to this dumbass party, then I could have fucked you hours ago,” he knew he was pouting, but you’d started meeting every roll of his hips halfway, using your thighs now to start up a slow rhythm. “Maybe don’t take so long picking an outfit next time.”

“I was picking yours asshole,” you caught his lip between your teeth again and sucked.

Joke was on you though, the more you tried to fucking tease him, the deeper he was gonna fuck you.

How d’you like that, bitch?

“What—don’t you dare fucking stop—was wrong with my outfit?”

He could feel spit pooling under his tongue. Your fucking pussy always did this to him, made his mouth water and this thighs shake while you rode him in earnest now, moaning into his ear as he made sure you felt him in your fucking guts.

God, he was never gonna get over that—the sounds you made. The sounds he pulled from you.

“Tomura, baby,” every word was punctuated with a gasp, one of his thumbs drawing those little circles on your clit that he figured out pretty quick made you cry. “I love you—and the easy dick access sweatpants provide—dearly, but your ass looks so fucking good in these jeans.”

Something weird always happened to his chest when you said stupid, cheesy shit like that. He knew that was thing fucking normies said all the time, and he used to gag whenever he heard people in the halls professing their feelings to each other. But whenever you did it, Tomura’s lips just instinctively fought to turn up at the edges and his lungs suddenly forgot what air felt like in favor of dedicating ever braincell in his body to memorizing whatever dumb as hell, sweet thing you said.

“Why does—mm yes fuck...” he stared entranced at his lap where your slutty goddamn pussy swallowed him up and pulsed around his cock with every tight circle drawn on your clit. “Why does it matter how my ass looks?”

You paused while he fought with the neckline of your top so your tits bounced free and he could suck at your nipples. And holy shit, you could call him a baby all you wanted, but he’d never get tired of the fucking taste feel smell of your chest filling his mouth and pressed so nice against his face.

Shit, he’d fucking live in your tits if he could. Suckle at you endlessly until you poured sweet fucking milk onto his waiting tongue.

Cause you told him one time that was a thing that could happen. Swatted his head away when he pawed at you for too long cause apparently if he sucked hard enough all the time—

“Listen, if your cute little boyfriend had the tightest ass on the fucking planet, wouldn’t you want to show that off to all your friends.”

His face lit up. Tomura could feel whatever blood left not pumping through this dick, rush to his cheeks and he buried his face more resolutely in your tits so as not to give you the satisfaction of flustering him.

You fucking cooed at him every time and squished his cheeks up, calling him your baby boy.

Fucking disgusting.

But damn if he didn’t love it.

“Whatever,” he groaned, picking up his pace and drinking down the delicious little whimpers you let out every time his cock met you coming down on his lap. “Shut the fuck up, and take it like a good fucking whore.”

“My fucking pleasure,” you grunted before losing all semblance of attempted hairstyling entirely, letting out a long, low moan as he pummeled that pretty pussy and sped up on your clit.

Tomura would absolutely never admit to it, but fucking you always had him feeling so fucking needy. The second your lips or your cunt were swallowing him up it was like a dam broke and every selfish request just poured out of him.

“Wanna cum,” he mumbled into your breast, whining as your walls fluttered and pulsed.

He knew what that meant now. Tomura was what you called ‘quick on the uptake’ and honed in fast on what it felt like when you started to lose it.

“Yeah? Does my pretty boy want me to make him feel good?”

God fuck yeah.

He couldn’t quite bring himself to say it out loud but, yes. Tomura was your pretty, baby boy and he needed he sweet fucking bitch to make him bust so deep inside you.

He was about to reach his peak too, teetering on the edge when the pounding started.

And not the fun kind. Not the bend you over his bed and rail you till you couldn’t fucking walk.

No, no, no.

This was balled fist slamming against his door and Dabi’s grating, smoky voice shouting from the hall.

“Could you fornicate later freaks?!” he called through the door. “You’re gonna be fucking late.”

Tomura’s orgasm hurtled to a painful halt and you groaned again—well growled was probably a more appropriate term for the snarl you let out into the crook of his neck.

“Why the hell does it matter to you?!” Tomura shouted back, the force of his voice shifting the angle of his cock. The minute stimulation felt so good he kept up the slow grinding motion.

You groaned again—decidedly much sweeter—and sucked a cheeky fucking mark right on the side of his neck.

“What are you fucking doing?” he hissed to you, but it was Dabi’s voice who answered.

Along with the click of his knob turning.

“Well, it sounded like you were having a hard time getting your bitch off, so I was gonna offer—“

Dabi stopped, taking the split second before the controller Tomura chucked at his head connected to stare fixedly at your bare ass seated on Tomura’s thighs.

“Yes, my bitch, so get the fuck out!” he yelled, coming out a little choked at the end as your slutty self kept grinding on his cock.

“Yeah, and he’s doing a great job,” you mused, languidly raising your head from his shoulder and kissing up his jawline, completely unfazed entirely by the new audience.

Tomura’s brain was ping ponging so hard between rage, cheek burning embarrassment, and being the most turned on he’d ever been in his life.

The things you fucking did to him.

“If you say so sweetheart,” Dabi, also completely unperturbed by watching you grind on his roommates dick, leaned against the doorframe like you all were chatting about the fucking mayoral election.

“I do,” you lifted your hips then, showing off one full bounce that had both Dabi and Tomura’s eyes rolling.

Though the latter was much more annoyed than Tomura could hope to be.

“Fucking show off,” his roommate muttered.

“Isn’t your boyfriend waiting in the kitchen?” you huffed and glared over your shoulder at Dabi in his platform boots and mesh top.

He scowled and flipped the two of you off with chipped, black nails and sauntered back down the hall calling, “not my boyfriend,” as he went.

He left the door wide open.

Tomura almost yelled for him to come back and close it, but you took the silence as an opportunity to start riding him full force and even though you were the one bouncing in his lap, he had to grip your waist and hold on for the ride.

Fucking bitch.

Tomura’s fucking bitch.

You held his hand as you walked across campus to the media building in the budding Spring evening. And that was almost as bad as you saying all those pointless, nice things to him.

Cause people looked, like they watched you linking fingers with that creepy guy in their classes or from the dining hall, and you walked swinging his hand in yours the whole way like it didn’t fucking matter.

Didn’t even occur to you that everyone on campus would know now that the hot chick they saw walking around was with him.

But all those imaginary eyes seemed to melt away as you dragged him behind you, down the old path you both used to take everyday after working in the library. Along the worn concrete sidewalk to the ‘secret door’ in the alley that was perpetually propped open with a copy of the Manifesto, taking two flights of stairs down to the basement and following the soft blue glow to the unofficial layer of The League.

You didn’t let go of his hand even after your both walked through the door.

Tomura recognized most of the people there as friends you introduced him to. You’d met them all through classes or through other friends, forming a close knit group of everyone who knew everyone which was apparent from the way they all cheered when you walked in.

He suddenly was reminded why he never came to shit like this. Not that people were scrambling to invite Tomura Shigaraki to their parties, but his skin itched even when the eyes never focused on him.

Across the room Spinner, the other co-leader of the club, who he knew the best out of everyone, waved at him, and Tomura nodded back. His eyes quickly picked Dabi out of the crowd, leaning off in the corner with a red cup in hand, forehead pushed up against his blond boyfriend’s. Keigo was apparently a reluctant member of the other gaming club on campus—cause of course there was a demand for fucking two—the president of which knew Spinner and who, of course, knew you, which led to Tomura’s asshole, sometimes voyeur roommate being invited along.

Fucking social circles were so needlessly complicated.

Tomura vaguely recognized the other blond guy in the room—Jin was his name? Maybe?—enough to pick his wild, sandy hair out of the crowd, tucked off to the side of the table laden with shitty vending machine snacks. He had his arm slung around someone Tomura had never met before, talking with another short blond girl he didn’t know and Jin’s roommate, Magne. He patted himself on the back for remembering two out of the four names. He also remembered Jin worked at the library, though he hated it, and had been tangentially responsible for hooking the two of you up in that study room, your study room.

Tomura nodded at Jin too as he saw the two of you walk in and enthusiastically shouted some greetings and only one profanity. A new record for him.

Someone else Tomura hadn’t been introduced to shouted from the floor by the gaming set up as Spinner punched the air in triumph in the glow of the victory screen.

“I’m gonna grab us some drinks,” you whispered to him, and he let go of your hand reluctantly, watching as you stopped, doling out hugs to everyone—excluding Dabi—as you went.

He looked around, cast adrift without you to hold him to the dock of social interaction.

It was clear he’d have to find a backup person to cling to for the remainder of the night if you were just gonna fucking abandon him for your friends.

Though Tomura did his best to not be all that salty about it. The residual anger melted a little bit as he watched Magne bear hug you off the floor so hard your back popped. It was only when he felt a hand on his shaking shoulder that Tomura realized he’d been laughing at the spectacle.

Spinner flashed him a toothy smile, arms crossed and watching intently as you pretended to gasp in a breath when Magne finally dropped you from her massive arms.

“Hey man,” he said, wild hair the color of those weird unicorn drinks from that cafe you liked sticking up on end. “How’s it going?”

Tomura shrugged, unsure how to respond without you to fill in the unmediated gaps in conversation.

“Fine, I guess.”

Spinner was not who he would have chosen to hang with all night. Yeah, he knew him the best, but Tomura sorta got the vibes your roommate lowkey hated his fucking guts. And while no one would say he was the master at interpersonal relationships, Tomura could fucking tell when someone didn’t like him. Most of his life till now had been spent in a constant state of snide side eyes and fake politeness.

Maybe that’s why he used to find you so fucking off putting.

But you were different now. He knew you meant all that bullshit. Spinner just wasn’t as good at pretending as he thought he was.

“Nice,” Spinner acted as though he didn’t notice the edge in Tomura’s tone. Or he was just fucking stupid. “I’m glad you guys actually came tonight, I haven’t seen you in awhile.”

He chuckled a bit to soften the blow of that last part, rubbing his neck and smiling sheepishly. Tomura didn’t return the gesture.

“Yeah,” he said simply, kicking at the scuffed linoleum with his sneakers.

He very much wished that you hadn’t tied his hair back so he could hide his face away from Spinner’s stare.

“Listen bro,” that pink head ducked down to catch Tomura’s eye, looking a little bit more guilty now than before. “I know I’ve been kind of a dick lately—and I already talked with them,” he gestured to you, currently pouring some awful, glittery concoction into Jin’s mouth as the smaller blond girl clapped beside you. “But I was just sort of ‘going through it’ for awhile and, well it doesn’t fucking matter, anyway sorry for being such an asshole...”

Tomura’s mouth got dry like it did whenever you hugged him in public or said you liked his eyes. The words drifted around in his head, spitting back error codes as they swirled.

He honestly couldn’t recall a time anyone had ever apologized to him. And he never knew what to say in normal conversation, much less fucking this. Spinner kept looking at him expectantly, but as the silence dragged on, Tomura watched his face falter just a bit.

And that made him feel even worse.

Fuck.

What would you say? Something nice??

“Don’t worry about it,” he blurted—which really was your catchphrase, but he was sure you wouldn’t mind him borrowing it.

“Thanks bro,” Spinner grinned again, this eyes closed, thin lipped thing that made Tomura feel hot just looking into the glow of it. “We’re cool yeah?”

He couldn’t see you, but he could feel that disgusting, proud stare you got every time he elected to order both your drinks when you went out or asked for extra ketchup on his own.

“Whatever, yeah,” Tomura scratched absently at his throat and Spinner jerked his head over to the gaming setup. The Smash music was drifting softly out of twin speakers.

“Wanna play a round?” he asked.

Tomura glanced quickly over at you, now watching as Jin attempted to juggle some of the small snack bags and Magne tossed more flying chips into the mix.

Yeah, you’d probably be awhile.

“...sure.”

It was halfway through the round—in which Tomura was goddamn slaughtering Spinner’s Kirby—that you finally wandered back over to him, two red cups in hand and a few bags of stolen Chex mix.

You set them both down on the small coffee table—also ‘donated’ from the theater department—and plopped next to him on the couch. Spinner growled from the floor, the other club president—The Commission apparently, who the fuck was coming up with these names?—sat kneeled behind him, hands on his shoulders and shouting words of encouragement.

The adrenaline of the fight rushing through him increased exponentially when you gripped his bicep and added your voice to the din.

“Fuck yeah, baby! Kick his fucking ass!”

“Oh wow,” Spinner yelled back. “Now I see where your fucking loyalties lie.”

“Has nothing to do with loyalty,” you laughed. “I just want to see you eat shit for once.”

“Should have come to the big tournament then!” The Commission president chuckled too, looking over their shoulder with a grin.

“Damn, now I’m really sorry I missed it,” you swung your legs up onto the cushions only to tuck them up under yourself as you stared down at the couch. “Ew what the hell is this stain?”

The Commission president was suddenly very much not looking back at you anymore, Tomura noticed. Spinner, at your comment, choked on his fucking spit, not quite dodging Tomura fast enough and tumbling straight off the map.

As Tomura’s character flashed first on the screen you cheered and gripped his face, landing a quick, wet smack of a kiss straight to his fucking lips. Spinner and his friend groaned in unison and there was a chorus of friendly disgust from everyone else gathered around watching.

He could care less.

The air felt strangely alive, people’s gazes flitting over him as though he were part of the scenery. But in a good way this time. Not the purposeful overlooking of his existence, not as though he were an accessory to the room, but a crucial part of it. Like there might be an empty space they would notice if he wasn’t occupying it.

Like he belonged attached to your hand or your hip or just on his own, playing games and drinking shitty juice and laughing at whatever weird as fuck thing Jin shouted at unprompted, random intervals.

Everyone remained gathered by the monitor as you selected your character to face off against him in the next round.

“I’m gonna...” you growled, coming in with an impressive attack and backing out of range, a move signature of yours, “suck your fucking dick!”

“I’m gonna fucking suck yours first, bitch,” he retorted and Magne offered up a kind “hell yeah” in support.

Her large fist came into view over his shoulder, which he found himself bumping against his own without a second thought.

The music filled his ears, the shouting voices no longer suffocating, but adding to the thrum in his chest—the same beat that had his lips pulled up in a smile which ached in his cheeks, but it didn’t matter.

The burn in the cracking skin around his lips and eyes was inconsequential. His face bare of the usual curtains of hair was turned up towards the screen in full display.

He watched you, silhouetted in the blue like of the monitor, saw the figures of your friends gather close around him, engulfing him like an ameba, adding Tomura in as another cell to this new organism.

He breathed.

And felt alive.

#tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x reader #tomura x reader #tw mysoginy #tomura x dabi #shigadabi #bee.talks

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hallowdeaths · 3 years ago

Text

Barnes' Bakery, Part Two.

summary ; your boss at the bakery has a soft spot— but in his hidden business, those aren't allowed, and he knows better. Yet, he can't help but want you— like a moth to a flame, and perhaps that will be the cause of his fall.

author's note ; english is not my first language, pls be easy on me.

tw ; lol idk nothing very bad i suppose. . slight horniness lol?? bucky pulling a Kaz Brekker and calling reader an investment?

part three!

You were fast asleep on the chair in the far corner of the kitchen, everything that had been on the menu for today already packed and ready to go, though you knew they weren't quite good enough quality to be exposed, they were decent enough to be given out.

You were awakened by the sound of the doors unlocking, the blanket around you falling to the floor as you sprung to your feet.

Bucky came walking in, heavy footsteps almost dragged as he talked to the person beside him.

"This 's the kitchen. You don't really work in here, but you'll need to know your way 'round."

The two turn the corner, and Bucky stops as he beholds you, his eyebrows rising and his face flushing a slight shade of dusty pink. "Sharon," He waves to the girl beside him, towards you. "This is tiny—"

"Y/n," you sputter over his words, not wanting for the new girl to go around using the pet name only your favorite boys were allowed to use. "I'm Y/n."

Bucky sends you a quizzical look, but nods still. "She's not very important,"

Though you felt your heart squeeze at the words, you nod at Sharon because it is true— most days you stayed at the register and if things got too busy you helped Steve behind in the kitchen.

"Don't mind her too much," Bucky mumbles to the blonde beside him, before leading her away.

You stayed back, frowning at their retreating shapes. Why was he acting this way? Why— why was he suddenly treating you like you were so insignigicante you didn't even need to be acknowledged?

Deciding to clean up after yourself, you quickly make the kitchen nice and shiny again and leave to wash up in your apartment, covered in dough and liquids of all kinds of flavors.

Today, you decide to wear a pair of boring jeans and a big sweatshirt that makes your shapes and forms become one big mess of black fabric. It looks how you feel, and when you look in the mirror you're somehow satisfied. You lazily clip on your apron and tie your hair at the nap of your neck before going back down the stairs where Steve now is launching into action, Sharon standing behind him with her hands where you couldn't see.

"Morning, Steve," You mumble as you walk past, excepting the same treatment from him.

To your surprise, Steve actually comes to greet you right back, his usual morning hug warming you to the heart as he swings you back and forth, coaxing a giggle from your lips.

"Hey, tiny. Thanks for what you did. Will be a real easy day, today."

You smile, thankful to be recognized. "I was bored, so I figured I'd help you out a little."

Nodding, his pointing finger shoots towards the table where a freshly unwrapped loaf of bread lay, ready to be cut and served. "You improved on the banana bread. Great job."

"Yeah," Sharon said, crumbs of bread tumbling onto her chest as she bit into one. "It's really great."

You cringe along with Steve, who quickly stumbles to get the piece out of her hand. "Please don't eat the merchandise, Shar'."

"Oh come on," the blonde sways her hips along with the cock of her head, smirking at Stevie. "Its just one piece."

Deciding you had seen enough of the new girl to know you disliked her, you turn on your heels and go for the register where Bucky stands, Sam in a stool nearby.

"Hey, Y/n!" Sam greets you with his usual warm smile, and you almost feel stupid for the happy flutter in your stomach. Sam always, always manages to up your moods.

"Hi Sam." You quipped as happily as you could get your voice to sound, going to the register to clock in and most importantly start up the machine.

"Heard you got in trouble," Sam gives you a playful wink, but still you feel your stomach drop a little.

"Uh, yeah. It was kind of my fault, I guess clients just don't like my baking as much as they like Steve's.

"But— throwing the cake on you?" Sam hisses through his fingers. "Buck, you gotta get the girl a shield or something. That was extreme."

From the side, you eye the man as his flesh arm flexes and his metal one stretch over his head in a round circle. "She' got to learn to live in the real world," he shoots Sam a look quickly, and than goes back to scribbling along the pages of his book.

Sam is still smiling playfully, though yours is long gone by now. You want to ask 'then why didn't you let me live in the real word instead of taking me in and giving me shelter and a job? But you truly don't want to lose this.

"And what's the real world, Buck?"

"Shut your mouth, Wilson. If you're goin' to be nothing but trouble for me, why don't you get out?"

"Damn old man," Sam rises his hands skywards, swinging from his stool. "Relax. Was just asking."

"He's right, though." You're saying before you can stop your mouth from moving. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Bucky finally regards you, his eyes settling heavy and dangerous on your face. Gods, you love the color of them and normally you would be glad to have the chance to get lost in them, but today is not a normal day. You suppose it might be because of his anger, but you're sure his eyes have fallen a shade darker— they look more feral than you've ever seen him look and their effect on you double and triple until you feel that sensitive part of you warm and tingle.

"Excuse me?"

"You say I need to learn to live in the real world—" You challenge, raising your chin higher to seem more confident than you feel. "It's as if you forget what I was before I became your pity case."

Bucky's face hardens, his features that are usually so soft sharpening until you feel like you could cut yourself with the edges of his face. His hands that lay at his sides go into tight fists, the metal arm wires and moves, flexing so more gold was visible. "My pity case?"

"Isn't that what I am?"

Bucky opens his mouth to say something but quickly catches it and closes it again. Finally, when he seems to have gathered himself, his voice rings in the small shop once more.

"Be careful what you say to me, tiny."

You're shivering, now. Your hands are shaking, and your pretty sure your knees have locked themselves into place (which you know he notices from his training for the army.)

"Or what, Boss? Gonna fire me?"

Now, that, that gets to Bucky. His eyes snap away from you like the patience inside of him, finding Sam standing there staring with his mouth opened.

"Damn, she's got an attitude on her!" He cheers, pointing finger guns at you with pride that resembles one of an old father.

"Were gonna talk about this later," Bucky promises to you, before pointing to the door. "Get in the car. We're leaving."

"Yes Boss!" Sam claps, before going straight to the doors, leaving you and Bucky alone despite your mental chant for him to stay, stay, stay.

Bucky approaches you slowly, so much so that you feel you might pass out, but then he's there and his hand is on your chin and you feel like you're being brought back to life.

"My office. Five. Don't be late."

You nod, breathless, and hope that you're not as flushed as you feel.

━━━

The day is awfully slow. You're not sure if it's because of the anxiety shooting through your system, the lack of response from your twin best friends, or if it's because the bakery was practically empty today, but all you know is that your legs are aching, and you're ready for a much needed break.

At around two, when you're ready to give up the register to Steve who has finished the last batch of the day, you walk to the back of the bakery with a study book in hand and a chocolate chip muffin that Steve always bakes just for you, the sides crunchy and the middle a mellow, warm softness you will miss when you get fired by Bucky later today.

You take the exit door and walk past the trash to the small park beside your bakery, shooting for the table you usually like to sit at to study.

Just when youre settled and finally able to get a bit of studying done and you think you may have gotten over what had happened this morning with Bucky, someone interrupts rudely, swinging both of their heeled feets onto the table.

You look up slowly, your cheeks heated with annoyance and your hands clenching around the pages of your books. "Sharon." You greet, attempting to sound somewhat respectful.

"Hello, tiny," She sings, and you want to throw up at the sound of your nickname on her tongue. "Whatcha up to?"

"Studying..?" You mumble quietly, staring down at the pages in hopes they might swallow you away.

"I've got a question." She pops her lips, and when you look up again, you're pretty sure you notice her face looks different. Something about it was more... lose, now. It was relaxed and polished, as if she knew exactly how to school her features.

"What about?"

"Just our boss."

Oh, gods. There she goes.

"What about Bucky?"

Sharon blinks before a huge smile draws itself onto her face, as if forced.

"Bucky, uh? You two... personal, or something?"

"What?" You shake your head, attempting to hide your blush when you lower your head towards the book you're reading again. Suddenly Greek Goddess' and Gods' were far more interesting to read about. "No. He gave me shelter, is all."

"So you don't know anything about our boss?"

"What does that mean?" You narrow your eyes at her, confused by the sudden interrogation.

"Can't blame me for asking, amiright? She attempts to laugh off, shaking her blonde head of hair awkwardly. "I just heard... whispers."

"Whispers about what?" You're suddenly interested, letting the pages of your book close on themselves.

"Stuff.. about his money?"

You scoff, sitting back against your chair. "He's friend with the son of Howard Stark. Doubt the money is a problem for him."

"That's not what I meant," Sharon grumbles almost angrily, as if she thought you were too daft to understand her. "I heard the Bakery isn't his only business."

You glance around for a moment, wondering what about your boss you could recall. He was often gone. He had payed for your tuition without wincing or asking for anything in return. He had luxury cars you doubt the Bakery could afford. He had a prosthetic youre pretty sure costs more than your apartment, and if you remember correctly, you also know that him and Tony often deal together.

"He's a business man," you shrug off. "He knows his way around the market."

Sharon sighs. "So you know nothing about him?"

"Wh- Yes? Yes I do!" You go to defend yourself immediately, frowning when Sharon shoots you a look that just screams she very much doubts your words.

"What's his birthday?"

You blink. "I dont— he never told me! Even Steve refuses to say."

"Okay, then, how did he get his arm?"

"He went to war— lost it."

"Yeah, obviously," She rolls her eyes at you, coaxing a fustrated breath from your lungs. "But who and how did he get such an expensive arm?"

"Again. He has connections." You nod your head, attempting to silence that little voice in your head that whispers that Sharon might be onto something, that maybe Bucky was a bit more suspicious then you had ever cared to admit to yourself.

"You haven't noticed anything strange. At all?"

Your heart squeezes, because you have, but never, ever would you talk ill of someone who had so drastically changed your life. Bucky was good — wherever his money may have come from — and you were testament to that kindness you knew resided in him.

"No." You feign a yawn, turning your wrist to watch the time flash back at you. Three. Great, two more hours before you were fired.

"Oh well." Sharon shrugs mindlessly before rising from her seat. "I need to head back."

"Yeah," you nod understandingly, still too deep in thought. "Yeah. Okay."

"See you later, tiny."

━━━

When five finally came around, you were so focused on getting through all of the mess in the kitchen to clean and prep for tomorrow, that by the time the clock ticked onto the number five, you hadn't realised. It's Steve, who stood just off at the table, who made you realize it was time for your meeting, pointing to the clock that now showed it was ten minute past five.

"Shit!" You grumble into the scattered lyrics you were humming, throwing your apron off as you sprinted towards the front and knocking on Bucky's office door.

A few seconds pass, but soon the door is opening and you're met with the sight of Natasha, smiling wickedly like a Cheshire cat. "Hello, you."

"Uh, hey," you mumble at her, peering over her thin and delicate shoulders. Bucky is sitting in his sofa, drinking from a dark cup of alcohol you know is strong.

"I was just leaving. He's all yours." She says it like she means something else, and you try not to squirm as she walks by in her high heels and dark suit that you know fits her curves better than anything else.

You stand there frozen, watching as he sipped from his crystal cup gently. "You're late." He grumbles at you, causing your legs to jolt you into a movement. You walk to the sofa facing his, settling there nervously.

"I'm so- so sorry, I was cleaning and I lost track of time-"

He raises his hand to silence you, which is successful because before you know it your mouth is snapping shut. He rises from his seat, going to the desk nearby to gather a pile of papers.

He throws it in front of you on the coffee table, and you just watch the words stapled onto of the documents. Your name is written in elegant cursive writing, with an amount of money next to it that makes your stomach flop.

"Since you believe to be my pity case," He sits again. Sighs into his hand. Drinks some more. "This is what you owe me. For your tuition and your apartment."

"W-what?"

He eyes you for a moment, his eyes blazing and bored all at once. "I'm showing you the real world."

Stupidly, you blink, your heart swelling twice its size. You think you might cry, but it's not because you're upset and disappointed. "So.. I'm not fired?" You ask wrily, surprise and relief in your tone that sounds both croaked and spat out.

It's his turn to be stricken silent, an eyebrow raising at your question. "Why would you think I would fire you, tiny?"

"Well," you shift uncomfortably in your seat and stare through the tainted windows on your far left, a sudden ball in your throat that vividly resembles the feeling of having sand and rocks lodged in there. "You hired Sharon.. and you've been..."

"I've been what?"

"You've been an ass!" Your hand slams onto your mouth, terror washing over you at your own words.

You expect him to be upset. To be mad.

But Bucky only just laughs, his eyes twinkling wickedly. "You sure have a mouth on you, uh? Perhaps I've been too lenient. Given' you too much lose rope."

"No, no, Bucky, I— that is not what I meant,"

Still, Bucky stands up and leans his front down so you're eye to eye, forcing himself in your point of view so that you can't escape his gaze. "What should we do about that filthy mouth of yours?"

You're silent, blinking at him clueslessly as if the answers could be found in his stormy eyes.

He tsks at you, pats your cheek strongly enough thay your head turns to the side. You don't understand why your thighs are clenching together, and even less why Bucky is currently leaning to whisper something in your ear. "Shall I teach you some manners, bunny?"

"I-im sorry, please, Bucky,"

He does that noise with his tongue again, making your insides and outsides reel with impatience. "Is that the right way to address your boss?"

You gulp. "I'm sorry... sir?"

"Better." He let's go of your face, his features shifting and his eyes blinking him out of his odd dominant trance, before he settles back into his sofa and clears his throat as if nothing just happened.

"As I said," He waves to the paper, giving you major whiplash as you try to gather yourself together, uncomfortably trying to move in your seat without being suspicious. Who the hell gets turned on by this kind of stuff? To the latest news, you didn't!

"This is what you have to pay me back. You'll be payed weekly now instead of not being asked for rent, and it is up to you whenever you choose to pay me back. I wanted to wait for you to be finished with school not to stress you, but I was counting on asking you to pay back what you owe me soon." He drifts off, tapping his fingers against the arm of the sofa.

You swallow thickly, unsure where to begin with all of this. All you could really feel right now, was relief and potent, sickened hunger for something between your thighs.

"Here's the truth, Y/N, you're not my pity case. You're an investment. Welcome to the real world."

An investment?

You take the paper with shaky hands and a dry throat— flip it open to stare at the numbers. You owed him over four hundred grands, which was over twice the price you were sure he had spent on you— but with inflatation and assurances and taxes, it made sense. It made so much sense that you realize you have been naive this whole time, blind to the truth that... you weren't your own person anymore. You owned nothing, because after you gave him your bank accounts numbers and trusted him with the rest of your assurances, Bucky had made it his own, technically. As long as you had money to buy your things, you hadn't dared ask about it.

Bucky owned you, and everything else that you thought was yours was just an illusion. This was just an illusion.

It was a game he was playing, and you had played right on it. For him, you were just another opportunity to make money.

Your lust was quickly overriden by shame, and as you rose from the sofa, you felt almost too embarrassed to stand in front of him.

"Thank you, sir." You force your throat to get out, and while you're well aware that your words are broken and in little shards, you don't care.

"You may leave," He dismisses you, his eyes flashing a shade of broken seas and stormy nights at shores, showing more grief than pride. You're confused, but you don't have any force left to ask. "I do believe you have class tomorrow."

You don't know what else to say, so you nod with a numb mouth and burning eyes and make your way out of his office.

Steve is at the counter with Sharon, and the two are so engrossed in their own little world of laughter and happiness that they don't see you walk past quickly, wiping your teary face with two shaky hands.

Once your in the apartment that never really was yours, you grasp your phone quickly and call the only person you can currently think of.

━━━

tag list <3 : @justlovelifeblog @prettylittlepluviophile @marve2014 @silentkiller2374 @tesla-pigeon @learisa @farfromjustordinary @shadoweepingscream @valhalla-kristin @leyannrae

#bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x reader #writing #imagines #fanfic #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic #bucky x y/n #bucky x black!reader #mafia!bucky #mafia au #steve x reader

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1-800-got-junk · 3 years ago

Text

Ryan Dunn H.C’s

description: ryan is my favorite #hunk and i wanna date him.

a/n: i wrote about half of this trying to hide my phone from my english teacher so if there’s a bunch of errors blame him LMFAO, also remember that i’m not a writer.. i’m just fulfilling my own needs here so don’t expect quality content 💀

warnings: just swearing i think.. do i need to put that in as a warning even? idk

———————————————————————

• in the beginning of your “relationship” he actually showers before he knows he’s gonna see you… romantic right <3

• the rest of the crew is very happy, albeit VERY confused when he comes in smelling like irish spring and not a bathroom floor.

• then they see you walk in and the heart eyes on that man’s face..

• bam starts instigating IMMEDIATELY. trying so hard to inconspicuously set you guys up, but ryan just gets annoyed with him and you are oblivious to the whole thing

• so one day bam has had enough and just straight up asks you on a date for ryan.

“HEY! you’re free tonight right?”

“umm.. depends on why you’re asking..”

(because let’s be honest, you do not trust bam AT ALL. and you know that if you give him your honest answer of “no, actually i’m just gonna be sitting at home watching family feud by myself” you’re gonna get pulled into some stupid shit you never had any intention of doing. it’s best to just keep him up in the air until you know all the details..)

“because you and ryan are going on a date :)”

“oh okay cool”

“WAIT WHAT? BAM GET BACK HERE NOW”

• ryan kicks his ass when he finds out, but he can’t really stay mad because after about three other dates NOT set up by bam, you guys are officially together :)

• the crew is so happy because now they don’t have to keep on witnessing ryan staring at you with those puppy dog eyes while you go to town on your lunch durring break, just completely unaware of how whipped he is

• and when i say whipped, i mean WHIPPED.

• he’s constantly staring at you, standing by your side, asking if you need anything, wrapping his arm around your waist, calling you pet names. (i’m thinking babe and sweetheart)

•the amount of times this man has just completely eaten pure SHIT during a stunt because he was just staring at you and not paying attention.. uncountable.

• that “tough guy-i hate everyone-you’re all so dumb it hurts” personality he’s sometimes got on? yeah that doesn’t exist when you’re around.. bam pushes his limits A LOT, but if you’re there too he can find it in himself to just ignore it.

(which side note, bam absolutely HATES because we all know what a little attention whore he is LMFAOO)

———————————————————————

BACK TO THE SHOWERING THING SORRY

• after a month or two and he’s 100% comfortable… the showering starts to die down..

• like he’ll get to your house, take one step through the door, and you’re already shoving him into your bathroom.

“come on babe, it’s not THAT bad”

“you smell like a foreclosed sewage plant, i’m not even joking.”

• sometimes if you’re feeling extra nice and he doesn’t reek EXTRA hard, you’ll get into the shower with him.

• i feel like it wouldn’t even really lead to anything most of the time.. he just really likes it when you wash his hair.

“hmm that feels ni- OW STOP SCRATCHING ME LIKE THAT”

“i wouldn’t have to scratch if you washed your hair yourself and got all this dirt out.”

• after you guys get out of the shower he 150% shakes out his hair like a dog just to spray you HAHAHAHA

———————————————————————

• he LOVESSSS seeing you in his clothes

• you know when you’ve had a shirt for a really long time and it’s all beat down and really soft from how many times you’ve worn it? yeah, that’s how all of his clothes are <3

• when you get your hands on a freshly washed shirt of his and it smells like that good man musk and NOT a dive bar.. yummy..

• after you wear a shirt of his he will just.. put it on himself.. one part of it is that this man RARELY washes his shit, but another is that he loves the smell of you on it

———————————————————————

• he feels lowkey guilty after a make out sesh because of the beard burn he gives you LMFAO

• it’s especially bad if you guys snuck off from the group and come back with it because EVERYONE knows what y’all were just doing..

“jesus kid, you fall face first into a cheese grater or something???”

“fuck off, knoxville.”

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• he’ll never admit it but he’s the worlds biggest cuddler.

• when you wake up in the morning this man has one arm around your shoulder and one around your waist, hanging around you like a sloth

• or he’ll just wrap his entire body around your back. it’s basically a human cocoon

• feel like he would prefer being big spoon but he doesn’t care that much

• one time bam broke into your apartment and SWEARS he saw you spooning ryan.. no one believes him though.. because let’s be honest here, bam is a little shit who can’t be trusted a good 80% of the time.

———————————————————————

• idgaf what anyone says. THIS MAN IS A ROMANTIC.

• he always gets you flowers or just little things that reminds him of you <3

• one time he just brought you a whole ass potted plant, like a full grown one so you know he definitely didn’t buy it at home depot or something.. it’s sitting in your living room but he still won’t tell you how he acquired it.. on a side note april has been going crazy for weeks because her weeping fig just up and disappeared.

• or he’ll just bring you stuff he finds while filming.. like random things on the ground, souvenirs from wherever they went, a cool coaster he stole from a bar.

“hey i found this rock by the lake we were shooting at today and i thought you’d like it”

“it’s a gray pebble?”

“i mean you don’t have to keep it-“

“no, stop. i definitely am”

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�� i don’t think he’s one for fancy dates because like.. have you noticed EVERYTHING about him? no way he’s taking you to like nobu or something.

• but the dates will still be very heartfelt, nonetheless

• like he’ll take you to a cute themed diner he found somehow or maybe get you guys both tickets to your favorite band

• i REALLY wanna say you guys would go on early morning hiking dates to watch the sunrise, but like… no way is ryan waking up that early…

idk how to end this LMFAO

the end?? i guess???

#jackass #mtv #ryan dunn #ryan dunn x reader #jackass fanfic

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taco-bell-mitchy · 3 years ago

Text

Mean Rindou x f!reader

-Rindou Haitani was always so mean

Warnings: Cussing, Violence, Mean Rindou, sexual touching, Pet names, toxic dynamics, bullying

I always did hear about how mean Rindou Haitani was. Ever since they took over Roppangi, but I knew even before that he was mean. In middle school I peaked in halls watching him beat poor kids up, and his older brother standing right behind him smiling proud. I didn’t get to experience it first hand until the start of highschool.

I never understood why he did it. The first two years it wasn’t that much. The occasional means words and shoving. His stare in the back of my head. Making me go get him things but it was so small, at least it seems small compared to now.

Now he seems to be more physical and demanding. It seemed like no one wanted to be around me and when they were the next day they were gone in an instant. I never knew what I had done to make Rindou Haitani hate me.

Before the bullying I wasn’t always the best student and after it became worse. So usually after school I stayed later in the class or library studying and doing work. Hoping today was one of the days that the Haitani’s would leave early. Unfortunately for you, your luck has run out for the week.

You stayed quietly alone in the classroom. Every so often a person passing by. An hour in you felt more at ease because by now Rin would be here. I began to pack my things to relocate to the library. As I’m waking to the library I feel a tug on me. I don’t even have to turn around to know who it is.

“Where the hell have you been?!” He looked down at my with his glasses slightly down and light panting. He was in an obvious rush.

“I was here in the classroom. I needed a little help.” I tried to mumble the last sentence, knowing he’d tease me for it. But Rindou Haitani never missed anything I said. “Awww, stupid little girl can’t do her homework, yeah?” He bent down a bit trying to look me in the eyes. I looked up a bit to see his lop-sided smirk. I didn’t feel very hurt at this comment. He’s said way harsher for me to care about this one. I simply felt annoyed.

I tried to turn back around towards the library but it seemed like today he had other plans. Grabbing hmmmm harder and turning me around once more. “Nuh uh, I’ve heard heard some things about you this week let’s go.” I felt my stomach drop at that. Heard some things? What has he heard. Even before him I’ve always kept to myself. So what could he have possibly heard.

Dragging me outside towards the lunch area he pulls me in between the buildings. Pushing me against the hard wall. He put both arms on it caging me in. I shuffle my feet around a bit and play with my fingers.

“Now, I’m only gonna ask once. What did you do?” He titled his head eyes looking at me. I look down moving my feet. I don’t even know what I did. I hadn’t done anything!

“I really don’t know Haitani. Truly I’m not even lying!” I tell him with a whiny voice. Sounding like a child pleading for anyone to believe them. Except unlike a child, I wasn’t lying.

Yet he stared down at me with glaring eyes. He right hand came up to the back of my neck. He hand stayed there for second before shoving me toward. Our chest connected, I was pressed up on him.

“I thought we talked about lying. It’s not a very nice thing to do, yeah?” As his warm breath spoke into my ear it was only then that I felt tears prickle into my eyes. I remember when I used to fight back. Try to push and shove but to no avail. So now I felt just as fearful and helpless.

“Haitani-”

“ugh, you can’t even get my name right. I know you’re not that much of a dumb bitch to forget my name.” I gulped down my fears speaking in a calm voice. “I really don’t know!” I felt my voice cracked as I yelled that.

In fear I retrace my whole day. Every step I took every word I spoke. I tried my hardest to remember it all. I don’t know what he’d do. Would he make me get on my knees and beg for forgiveness? Would he pour water all over me and make me walk home with dripping wet clothes? Or would he pull my hair back and scream profanities into my face. Either way, I knew I’d hate it.

He sighed obnoxiously. Pulling my arms forward he stared in disgust, “What are these.” I looked down with confused eyes. “Bruises…?” He nodded, “Yes baby, and now where did you get these?” I suddenly knew what he was so mad about.

As I said, Rindou Haitani has been targeting me for a while. Weather it be tripping me in the halls or embarrassing me in front of my classmates he was always doing something. But I guess they didn’t realize that it wasn’t an invitation for them to bully me.

Some classmates have been bullying me for the past month now and it’s less aggravating than Rindou but still painful. Still, I don’t know why Rindou would care about it. It’s not like he’s any better.

“Some classmates have been messing with me, it’s not anything that bad I guess…” He started to caress the marks on my arm. Why did he seem so upset?

“Hmm, I see.” I watched him for a second as he just stared down at my arms, “I’ll fucking kill them,” he gripped harder onto my arms, “Pieces of shit think they can touch things that doesn’t belong to them. Imbeciles will wish they were never alive when I’m done with them.” He held onto my arm tighter as he said each word with venom.

“You’re hurting me Haitani, stop!” I try shaking him off as I say it but stop at his next actions

“Shut up.”

His lips were immediately on mine. I didn’t even notice it at first. My eyes widen in surprise as he stared at me with intent. He pressed down harder and closer onto my body as he moved more into the kiss.

“Shut up and say my name.”

He said between his rough kisses. I couldn’t even say anything with his lips pressing against mine. His tongue darting out to my teeth. The freshness of his breath is something I can already taste and the smell of freshly washed hair blew into my face as his hair drooped down. I felt a soft hand come onto my cheek. And a arm around my waist. A way Rindou had never held me before today.

“Please, say it.”

“….Rindou…”

He seemed pleased. Very pleased by this action. His tongue darting down my throat while his hand started to caress my cheek. He started to swipe at the stray tears running down my hot face.

“Only for me. You’re only allowed to look like this for me. Only allowed to be this vulnerable for me pretty girl.” I shook my head, “No, I’m not yours Rindou.” He chuckled with endearing eyes still wiping my eyes. “Yet like a dumb little bunny your still here. It’s not like I’d let someone like you ever leave me though.” Both hands went down to my waist massaging the skin.

“You’re so dumb you know? I’ve been acting like this for years, and you still don’t understand how I feel. No one can do what I do to you. You’re mine.” He bumped noses with me making me look at him. My eyes were still teary and my cheeks were red hot. I sniffled softly as I stared at him. He groaned

“God, don’t look at me like that.” He held my waist tighter, “I can’t stand your stupid fucking face pretty girl.” I felt a little more tears fall down my face at his words.

I never understood why he did this. Why couldn’t he be nice if he liked me. Why did he kiss me if he didn’t like me. How does he feel? The answers didn’t really matter. All I knew was, Rindou Haitani was just so mean.

#rindou x you #rindou x y/n #rindou x reader #rindou haitani #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #oneshot #slight yandere #yandere Rindou #tokyo rev x reader

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lacheri · 4 years ago

Text

rituals

pairing: boyfriend!Levi & fem bodied reader

content: modern au, established relationship, over stimulation, penetrative sex, oral (f receiving), body worshipping, a sprinkle of somnophilia and dacryphilia, Levi really loves his pet names, very minor OCD portrayals, minors DNI

wc: 5.7k

notes: not me creating an entire tumblr so i can post my smut lmfao. this is my first time writing smut like this, so i hope ya’ll enjoy (:

Levi couldn’t tear his eyes away from you, even if he wanted or tried to. You were just so beautiful to him, long eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks as you tried to drift off to sleep. He insisted that you faced towards him every night, his eyes tearing up from pushing away blinks because he genuinely couldn’t bring himself to miss even a second of you. It was borderline obsessive, definitely the craziest ritual he had, but Levi just couldn’t help it. This was the only time he fully and unabashedly got to admire you, and it wasn’t like you didn’t mind the attention. In fact you’d lay there fully conscious, steadying your breathing and squinting just barely to watch him watch you. Your boyfriend wasn’t an overly affectionate person, but God did he love to spend hours memorizing every curve and line of your pretty face.

Levi’s fingers reached out, tracing your cheekbone with his knuckles, breathing a hair above a whisper, “So gorgeous.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from blowing your cover, a wide grin erupting from your lips. Eyes still closed, you heard Levi chuckle, “Seems like my brats’ still awake.”

Instead of answering in fear of ruining the moment, you snuggled closer to your boyfriend, burrowing your head into the space between his neck and shoulder. You placed an innocent kiss there as you brought your left hand up to rub tiny circles on his bicep. His shirtless body was warm and soft from his earlier shower, and he had just decided on sliding into your freshly washed bed sheets with you in just his boxers. You couldn’t help but take notice of his hardened length pressed against your stomach.

“So sweet for me tonight,” he rasped, fingers edging under the fabric of your silk shorts.

“I’m always sweet for you,” you moved your head back to look up at him, batting your eyelashes and pouting.

Levi took your bottom lip in between his index finger and thumb, gaze locked in on how it rolled in between them. He groaned softly to himself letting go, leaning in to indulge himself in a kiss. You eagerly matched his slow, sensual pace. His hand wandered back to your shorts, slipping underneath the bottoms to caress the back of your thigh. He molded the soft flesh between his fingers, biting softly at your lips for permission to taste you. Your tongue licked in response against his bottom lip, Levi taking it upon himself to push his tongue forward to dominate yours. His taste buds slid sinfully against yours, twisting and turning around the muscle. You tasted divine. All mine, Levi thought to himself.

The tips of his fingers traveled upwards to the fullness of your lower cheek, not being able to stop himself pulling the handful towards him. He softened his grip, feeling your ass jiggle back into its original place. His mind ran wild, images of your naked body flooding his head. You couldn’t help but let out a soft sigh, feeling a familiar burn rumble in your lower stomach. Unlike your boyfriend who could play and get you wound up for however long he saw fit, as soon as you got started all you wanted was him inside you. Patience was not in your personality, and as he continued to paw at your lower half, you had one goal set in mind.

“Wanna’ get on top,” you demanded, breathless and feeling needy as you pulled away from your kiss.

Levi’s kiss traveled to your cheek, down your jaw and neck as he responded, “No, not done with you yet.”

“But Levi,” you whined, shifting an octave higher as he sucked the side of the column of your throat. His tongue drew delicious circles before going back to peppering kisses.

“Patience, brat. You’re being so good, don’t want to ruin that by being whiny, do we?” He ended his question with a light smack on your ass, removing his hand all together after to lean his torso up to hover over you. You gulped, the burning feeling intensifying as he stared at you with predatory eyes. You nodded slowly, feeling accomplished as he murmured, “That’s my good girl.”

Levi easily guided you to lay flat on your back on the bed, fully encasing you in between his strong arms. You eyed his biceps as he balanced over you. The full moon that looked just outside your bedroom window was a blessing in disguise as it illuminated the room, casting flattering light on all it saw. Your favorite thing about Levi’s body was his arms, toned and strong, and always so in control. You practically drooled watching them flex as he leaned in back to your neck, this time trailing kisses upwards. His lips met you in a kiss again, this one a bit heavier and needy than the last.

His right hand strayed up to your face again, Levi always needed to touch you, and his thumb ran along the edge of your jaw, a grip solidified under your chin when he pulled his face away from yours. He titled your head up, his stone colored eyes locked in on yours. His jaw was slacked open as his eyes kept traveling your face. Every time he saw your face it was like a spell, he was completely devoid of ever being able to gaze at another’s after being graced with yours. In a flash, images of you looking angelic in a white dress came to mind, and with a pretty diamond ring burning a hole in his sock drawer he had yet to show you, his cock throbbed. Levi’s lips attached aggressively to the spot where his fingers accompanied, sucking fiercely down. You bit back a moan as heat pooled instantly between your legs, oblivious to his thoughts.

“Levi,” you moaned, both of your hands shooting up to his waist leering above you.

“Yes?” he moved downwards again, this time taking the buttons of your silk shirt in between the pads of his fingers, popping them open slowly.

“I love you,” your eyes fluttered closed, heart race increasing. His did as well, flickering to your bra-less chest and back up to the soft smile that lit up your face.

“As do I, brat.”

Levi pushed your unbuttoned silk sleeping shirt open, gazing down in awe at your exposed chest. Your nipples were pert and standing to attention, and you felt like your heart was going to slam out of its confines. Levi always did this to you, every time you made love felt like the first. You wondered if this effect would ever go away, but as he leaned down and flicked one of your hardened nubs with his tongue, you wholeheartedly believed it never would.

His lips encircled around your nipple, his hand began toying with your other breast. His licks and sucks were slow, so agonizingly slow, but did Levi just love to work you up and tease you. On the nights you were an extra good girl for him, he’d let you take charge and tell him what you wanted and give it to you. Unsurprisingly, there was absolutely no time wasted in foreplay. Of course this power change wouldn’t last very long, Levi would find it too amusing how quickly being in control went to your head. He needed to remind you on those nights that he was only allowing you to act that way, and Levi was always the one in charge.

You could feel the throbbing of want from your core, not being able to hold back a whine as Levi continued his assault. His hand stayed kneading your breast as his lips moved south once more, tongue lolled out on your skin to leave a saliva trail. He had to feel every square inch of you, lapping against the soft skin of your torso. He bit playfully at the underside of your boob, and you let out a tiny yelp in response. His lips smoothed over the light impressions of his teeth, kissing languidly to earn back the soft moans and sighs he was eliciting from you.

Deciding then that your clothes were an offensive insult to his existence, Levi huffed and abruptly yanked down the waistband of your shorts, taking your lace panties with it. This had caught you off guard, but before you could react, Levi had slipped one of his hands under you on the small of your back to lift your hips while the other tugged down your shorts and panties to your knees. You lifted your knees up on your own to your chest and he pulled the garments off the rest of the way, throwing them off to a forgotten corner of the room. His hands returned back to you quickly, landing on the back of your heels, and he leaned up onto his knees to gaze down at you from hazy eyes. Wherever his fingers trailed, his eyes followed. Feather light scratches traveled the underside of your feet, his palms facing towards you. You shivered involuntarily, your body was on fire and he hadn’t even touched you where you needed him the most yet. His digits finally met the tips of your toes, and his knuckles wrapped around the tops of your feet, massaging them in the process. Levi’s eyes flickered up then, expression completely stoic, but you saw every emotion swirl in his cloudy grey eyes. The want, the need, the complete and utter adoration, it was all there.

“You’re so fucking stunning,” Levi spat as if he had spoken an insult. “All fucking mine, I want to hear you say it.”

“Levi, please, touch me,” you begged, fed up with him toying with you.

“Tell me, now.”

“I’m yours,” you pleaded, nearly in tears as your frustration built. “I’ll always be yours. Please, baby.”

“Such a good girl,” Levi praised, face softening after getting what he wanted. He pressed his lips to the top of your right toe then, never breaking eye contact. He didn’t spend much time on your feet, only peppering closed mouth kisses until he reached your ankle. His fingers followed shortly behind his lips, eliciting goosebumps in the trail of his light touch. You were a whiny mess, he was just getting you so worked up. You knew he didn’t reward bratty behavior like this, and you really did try to control it and keep it in, but you were just getting so frustrated that Levi wasn’t giving into what you wanted, no, what you needed. And every kiss closer to your aching center moved slower and slower, stopping completely once he reached the insides of your thighs.

Taking your knees in a tight grasp, he spread you completely open in front of him. You clenched around nothing in anticipation, a silly grin on your face. You bit softly on your bottom lip, watching him devour you with his eyes. It was just so much to take in, Levi was groaning to himself, burning the image into his memory. There just weren't words to describe it, having you like this felt almost holy. His eyes struggled to fit you all into one simple picture, wanting to focus on every single detail; The way your pussy glistened and the muscles contracted, the darkened skin in the inner creases where your center met your thighs, the skin bunched together on your stomach from having your legs spread so wide and up, the tiny bumps of your areolas, the way you sucked on your bottom lip, eyes so wide and pure, hair a fucking halo around you. He placed his hands on the sides of your center, spreading you open with the pads of his thumbs resting on your outer lips. Levi wasn’t a religious man in the slightest, but God did he want to put your body on an altar and goddamn pray to you, worship you, die for you, kill for you.

Levi finally leaned forward, his lips placing an open mouth kiss to the bare skin above your folds. It was all way too much teasing, and you couldn’t stop yourself from squirming, trying to push yourself closer to his mouth. He shot a warning glare up, daring you to continue disturbing him.

“Bad girls don’t get what they want, brat,” the vibrations of his grovel were so close to your aching clit, and you let out a choked moan in response.

“I’m sorry, baby,” your head became clouded, feeling like you were going to explode. “I’ll be good, I promise.”

“This is the second time I’ve had to remind you,” Levi took his index finger and finally stroked it against you, a shaky intake of breath elicited from you. “Don’t let there be a third.”

The tip of his finger circled gently on your clit, exposing the pearl in the center. Every time his soft touch brushed against it, you wanted to sob. Your loving boyfriend, so gentle and caring, taking his ever loving time with you. He watched you as if he had never seen another woman in his entire life, it would always be just you. Even the mere thought of someone aside from you had him growling. Whilst you were all his, he belonged to no one else but you, and he felt every urge to prove that to you.

The assault of his tongue was a shock to your system, nerves sizzling deliciously. Levi was a man on a mission, and he knew exactly how to get you to come undone under him with the rhythm of his mouth. There was a pattern to be appreciated, a ritual even, and Levi was a man who found reason in a routine, because routine always worked. You knew this well even outside the bedroom, Levi ate the same foods every day to stay as fit as possible, he color coded every single thing in your home to stay as organized as he could, losing his mind if he even suspected a hint of dust on any of his furniture. He told you once before that you were the one compulsion that didn’t drive him utterly insane, and in Levi’s world he pretty much declared his eternal love for you. And you definitely didn’t mind this attention in the slightest, because although the thoroughness of his touches and kisses made you want to ignite into ball of flames with desire and frustration, there would never be another man on the planet who could make you feel as beautiful and as loved as Levi did, or who would be worthy of receiving of your own love and adoration.

Levi’s took his free hand to your opening, circling the area with pressure. His tongue still licked and sucked faithfully on your clit, you whimpering and mewling at his worship. His index finger pressed in, your walls instantly sucking him in as far as you could take him. You shuttered, eyes rolling into the back of your head as his finger began to move inside of you. He was grazing the ridges, pumping the digit as the knuckles of his fingers made a ‘come here’ motion over and over. And when he added a second one to add to his pattern, the coil in your lower stomach was about to burst. Of course Levi could feel the change of the pulses of your walls, holding a squeeze for longer seconds than the last ones, and he knew you were close. He angled his fingers then so the tips rubbed against the spongy part of your cunt, pumping his fingers even faster, creating friction at your entrance as well.

Between his expert fingers and the suction of his lips, you came fast and violently, not being able to voice a wanting, white light flooding your vision as you arched your back and your eyebrows knitted together, your mouth hanging agape in a breathless scream. Levi watched all of this before him, and couldn’t help but rut against the bed in his boxers. You were simply heavenly, and had he humped the bed the entire time he was eating you out, he would’ve came in his boxers without hesitation.

The contractions slowed but Levi did not, knowing he could get at least one more out of you before he moved on to the main event. The stimulation was too much, too overwhelming coming immediately off of your high. Your muscles were still so tight, not completely relaxed and your clit was just so sensitive. It didn’t take more than a few strokes of his fingers yet again to have a quick orgasm.

You moaned louder the second time, although the first one was stronger. It just felt so good, not nearly as satisfying as the first, but the waves washing over you were unbelievably strong.

Levi removed his mouth, and watched his fingers slip out of you, skin pruned from your cum. He placed a kiss on your thigh, bringing his gaze to your weary expression, “Such a good girl for me, I think I’m going to reward you.”

Your ears perked and you lifted your head from the pillow, “Reward?”

“Yeah, why not?” he sucked where he was placing kisses, eyes locked in on yours. “I’m going to let you pick how you want me to take you.”

Your eyes widened, an excited smile gracing your features. Now this was rare, and you realized that Levi must’ve been in an exceptional mood to let you have even a fraction of control right now. Or, on the flip side, he was setting you up to lose control so he could find a reason to punish you. Either way, you couldn’t wait to find out.

“On top,” you begged yet again, sitting up on your elbows and sliding out of your opened shirt. “I want to watch you.”

“So needy,” he scoffed, grabbing the backs of your thighs and pulling you further down the bed so you were eye level. His chin was covered in your arousal as he leant in for a passionate kiss, lips mashing together. He easily flipped you over so you laid on top of his muscular form. You sat up, knees bent on either side of his hips. You placed your hands on his lower stomach to steady yourself, thumbs brushing against the elastic of his black boxers. Levi had strategically rolled you so you sat pressed bare against his erection, and he could feel how wet your pussy was through the fabric. He audibly groaned when you pressed further down, rubbing yourself on his clothed cock.

Your hips rocked back and forth in a lazy rhythm, and Levi was having absolutely none of it. Although he could deal out plenty of teasing, what he wasn’t going to allow was for you to give it right back to him. Really, it wasn’t on purpose, you promise. It was just there was no time to waste, and you would find any kind of satisfaction any way you possibly could.

His hands gripped hard at your hips, stopping your motions entirely, “Oi, brat, you trying to get a strike three?”

“I’m sorry,” you apologized once again. “Feel so good, I can’t stop.”

“How could you?” his expression softened, bringing his thumb to trace your lips in mock empathy. “You’re so spoiled.”

Levi then took matters, literally, into his own hands. He patted your thighs so you could lift your hips as he grabbed his thick cock out of the confines of his boxers. It slapped against his stomach, and you saw the glisten of precum on his slit. Your mouth watered, eyes drinking up every second as he pulled the clothing down his legs, kicking them off his ankles. You sunk your hips down again, letting out a whimper as your clit made direct contact with the head of his dick. Levi pulled his bottom lip in with teeth, face scrunched as he let out a low hiss. You slid against him a couple of times, lubing his shaft with your arousal. Grabbing the base, you angled him at your entrance, eyes glued to the spot between you. His eyes stayed trained on your angelic face though, not trusting himself to bust on the spot as you began to slide yourself down on his length.

“Fuck,” Levi cursed, nearly drawing blood as he bit down. Your mouth hung agape, eyebrows furrowed and tears pricking the edges of your lash line. “So fucking tight.”

Fully impaled on top of him now, a fat teardrop rolled down your face, landing on his lower abdomen, and Levi was instantly regretting letting you take control like this. All he wanted to do was to feel your pelvic bones wrapped around his fingers on your hips as he unforgivingly plowed into you. He hated seeing you cry, but in the bedroom, he didn’t mind it one bit. It was an arousing reminder that no matter how many times he made you cum before hand, no matter how drenched your core was, you would still struggle to fit all of him inside of you. He would even go as far to call it a sick fascination, a warranted deal as lovers to see you sob and hiccup on his length. His ego was fragile, as are most men, but as you opened your teary eyes and met his lustful glare, he felt as if he could take down the entire fucking world for you.

“Oh my god,” you cried softly, angling your hips upwards to bounce back down swiftly. You both let out a groan as you met his pelvis once again, feeling the tickle of neatly kept pubic hair tickle your clit. As much as you wanted to grind yourself down on his base to get yourself off yet again, the furrow of Levi’s brows and the sight of his lip tucked between his teeth gave you motivation to continue on.

Raising yourself up again quickly, now feeling your cunt adjust more to keep taking him, you used all the power you could muster in your knees and thighs to lower yourself down, then up again, into a steady rhythm. A bit slow for both of your preferences, but you fully knew that his patience would wear thin soon and Levi would just haul you onto your back again, having his way with you.

His thick tip continuously brushed against your ridges, every time you would purposefully clench yourself as you met his base. Whimpers escaped your lips, the sounds of you and your cunt gripping him for all its worth filling the room. You would’ve been embarrassed had this been anyone else, but truthfully, Levi was the only man who could ever get your beautiful pussy to this state of unending flow. You were soaking him, and the both of you knew that after all this was said and done, the sheets that were just pulled out of the dryer not even an hour ago would go right back into the wash, all because of you. No, you weren’t going to take the blame. It was all because of Levi, and what he was doing to you.

His hand smacking your ass brought you out of your thoughts as he grumbled, “You fucking brat, you’re fucking yourself on my cock to wind me up, huh? You’re really wanting that strike three?”

“No,” you managed to moan out as your pussy clenched from his words. “I’m really trying my best, Levi.”

Levi’s hands grasped your hips as your cunt was trapped at the top of his fat tip, stopping your motion entirely there as you hovered, “I don’t fucking believe you.”

With one swift motion, he thrusted upwards, hard, burying himself right up against your cervix. You yelped in response, tears resurfacing as the pain mixed with the pleasure. This was exactly what you had wanted, and Levi knew this, but you would refuse to admit it.

“Wanted me to get fed up, didn’t you?” he grit his teeth, plunging himself into you once again, unbelievably even harder this time, your moans turned desperate.

“Please,” is all you could whimper, his harsh thrusts increasing in pace as he fucked himself into you. Not once relinquishing his tight grip on you. All you could do is hover above him, grabbing onto whatever you could to steady yourself.

Another loud smack was heard as you felt a sting against your ass, and now you were really sobbing, “Please, please!”

“Please, what?” Levi venomously spat out, eyes darkened in lust and in mild anger. You knew it wasn’t legitimate anger, and all his look did was feed the flame growing in your core.

“My legs can’t hold up anymore,” you cried, fat tears rolling down your face. Your knees were buckling, a tender ache in your thighs had your body wanting to go limp.

His hold on you eased up, maneuvering his hips so his cock slid out of you with a squelch. You fell into his lap, trying to catch your breath as fast as you could before he locked you in another grip, rolling around so your stomach was flat on the bed. His cock, now soaked in your juices, was grinding into the seam of your ass, and he was groaning at the contact. Truthfully, you’d let him fuck himself anywhere he wanted. And God, did Levi want to use that to his advantage. Not tonight though, he had one goal, one place in mind, and that was your beautiful, angelic cunt.

He slid himself back in between your folds with no resistance, his knees locked in between your legs to prevent you from closing them in a reaction. His fingers tangled themselves in the back of your head, pulling it up by your hair so he could hear every single mewl and whimper from your beautiful mouth.

From this new angle, Levi was buried so deep within your body that every nerve was singeing, lit aflame by the wondrous pleasure. Pulling his hips back slowly, he could feel every ridge and muscle in your plush cunt, and he let out a subtle growl. He pressed back in at the same pace, almost torturous. He eyed the handprints on your ass, and felt his ego soar. Every mark, every bruise, every touch, your body was entirely his, and his alone.

His fingers unwound in your hair, grasping both of your full ass cheeks in his hands as he plunged in, flicking his hips faster. You heard and felt the smack of his balls as he bottomed out inside of you, and all you could do was gasp and hiccup at the impact. He repeated it, again and again, increasing his speed every time. He angled himself then to brush his engorged tip to that sweet spongey spot inside of you, fucking right up into it with every thrust. He really had you moaning then, your hands reaching forward to grasp the pillow in front of you, knuckles white in your grip. While the sight was erotic, seeing the back of your head as you stuffed your face into mattress, body completely limp under him, Levi wanted to see that beautiful face of yours as he brought you to a climax. He could feel your cunt squeezing him, ready to cum, but knew how your clit needed the extra attention to bring you there.

When he pulled out of you suddenly, you let out a frustrated cry. He silenced it very quickly, flipping your body once again to lay on your back. Strands of your hair were stuck in sweat against your forehead, mouth agape and he couldn’t help but smirk at the sight of your moistened lips, unable to stop the drool as your mouth hung open. Your legs still parted, bent at the knees, he grabbed your thighs and pulled you even closer, aligning himself with your vulva once again. His hands stayed there, his cock standing to full attention, needing no guidance, as he filled your tight hole, and continued fucking you.

Your breasts bounced from the impact as you tried, so very hard, to match his pace with your hips. You did well at the beginning, feeling the skin to skin contact against your clit as your bodies met full on. Your legs were shaking though, unable to hold a rhythm long enough to get off, and you gave in, allowing him to take full control.

“You’re so close again, aren’t you?” he chuckled darkly, his right hand leaving the smooth skin on your thigh to travel in between your legs.

“‘Wanna cum, please, Levi,” you pleaded, your eyes screwing shut, hands attaching themselves to his looming biceps.

“You haven’t been very good, though, brat,” he chided, almost mockingly. “I don’t know if you deserve it.”

“I’ll be good!” you begged, hips shakily trying to match his pace once again. “Please!”

“You’re gonna’ be a good girl?” he asked, gaze dark and hungry as he drank in your desperate form.

“Yes, yes!” you nodded furiously, eyes opened now, watching his own flicker up to yours.

Without answering you, or teasing you any further, his thumb met your clit, and you moaned so fucking loud that Levi almost came from the sight of you. He pulled his thoughts together, focusing on getting you off first. His thrusts fastened, your pussy squelching as the sound of slapping skin echoed in your bedroom. Levi’s thumb worked in quick circles, no intent of letting up. No, you wanted to come, so he was going to make you fucking come.

The coil was never unwound in the first place, and his attention had you seeing stars. The pressure in your abdomen kept building, and you could feel every single slide and inch of his dick everywhere inside of you. At your sweet spot, in your entrance, the encouragement of his thumb on your most sensitive area. It was all too much.

“I’m gonna’ cum,” you panted as you threw your ankles around his waist, wanting to pull him in deeper.

“Cum for me, beautiful, cum on my cock,” Levi begged, feeling his own release impending.

That’s all it took, your jaw dropping and knees shaking as your pussy pulled in him so deep, and squeezed him painfully tight. Your head was empty, and Levi watched you completely fall apart below him. Seeing pure white, eyes locked in on his, his face screwed together in his own pleasure. That’s all it took to finally push you over the edge. Your cunt gripped him harshly, and feeling the first contraction, Levi couldn’t hold back anymore, his thrusting desperate and thumb moving so fast his wrist was aching. He flicked his hips as you pulsed around him, shooting his load deep inside your velvet center.

As you screamed his name, he moaned out yours, both of you stilling completely aside from his thumb working you down. Even as he came down from his height, your cunt was still milking him, albeit at a slower pace now. His thumb slowed movement, your contractions winding down as your chests heaved.

Levi quite literally had to force himself out of you, your pussy that tight on his dick. He watched in adoration as some of his seed spilled out of your hole, and using the same thumb he brought you to your climax with, he pushed the fluid back inside of you.

Thank God for birth control, you thought, breathing heavily as you watched him from below.

Levi threw himself out of the bed, taking shaky strides over to your on suite bathroom. He spent a couple minutes there, and you stayed in the same position, trying to find any energy to move. Not much to his surprise, he looked on in adoration to see you still sprawled out, your eyes closed peacefully as you enjoyed your post orgasmic bliss. Now this was a face worth studying tonight.

You jumped when you felt the cool contact of a wet rag meet your folds, and your eyes opened and followed Levi’s hands as he diligently cleaned you, his focus intent on your womanhood. You cringed when you finally looked down at yourself, inner thighs glistening under the pale moonlight. So much for laundry day.

“Normally this is the part where I tell you how good you were,” Levi’s eyes flickered up as a small smirk set in on his lips. “But I’m beginning to think you’re a bit too spoiled, brat.”

You laughed breathily, “I’m sorry, you just make it so hard to control myself.”

“Maybe I should start dealing out real punishments,” he mused, finishing up wiping you down.

“Oh?” you managed to tilt your head lazily, interest peaked. “Like what?”

“I don’t know, maybe make you start calling me captain, or something?” Levi inquired. His expression was completely serious.

“Captain?” you snorted. “Captain Levi? What kind of fantasies do you got swirling around in your head? Do you want to buy a boat or something?”

“You could be my little cadet,” he smirked, ignoring your teasing, returning the rag to your pussy with mischievous intentions, a bit too sensual. “My little bratty cadet.”

You closed your legs as much as you could with him in between them, a pout settled in on your face, “Why can’t I be a captain too? Better yet, what about your commander?”

“In your wildest dreams, brat.”

Levi stopped teasing you then, deciding your lower half was as clean as he could possibly get it without tossing you into the shower. Making another quick trip to the bathroom and back, he adjusted the pillows behind you, until they sat perfectly on the bed frame, and worked out the wrinkles in the duvet that had been half haphazardly thrown down and off the mattress to make way for your love making. Deeming everything perfect, Levi finally crawled into the bed beside you, where your eyelids were drooping heavily as you fought off legitimate sleep this time.

“I love you, Levi,” you murmured, burrowing your face into the crook of his neck to pepper a sweet, innocent kiss.

His hands gently cupped the back of your head, pulling you back and you pouted sleepily, “Oi, you know what you’re supposed to do. I’ll cuddle you when I’m done.”

You only nodded in a response, sleep catching up to your exhausted body. You only stirred when you felt the length of his fingers intertwined with yours, a small smile creeping up as you finally drifted off. Levi gazed at your expression in adoration, pushing back your hair from your face as your breathing softened. He would fight his own need for sleep for an hour, memorizing every crinkle of your beautiful face.

“I love you, so much,” Levi whispered, barely able to hear himself. “My beautiful angel.”

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