#coming up on him by surprise PHEW

[willowser]

the idea of ua teacher bakugou honestly makes me so sad, because you have to consider the possibility of him not making it to the end as a hero which !! is heart-breaking !!

but at the same time — there is something really cathartic i think about him growing up and growing out of measuring his worth by being number one, by being the best. and i like to think of him as a grumpy professor !! a bit like aizawa !! or him keeping a close eye on the shy, quiet students, watching out for them and always there to bully them (affectionate) along their path . or for him to be an all might to someone, a young kid that looked up to dynamight in his hay-day, now getting to follow directly under his lead.

[fake-bleach]

HOTEL ROOM | SOLDIER BOY x READER

"babysitting" a nearing hundred year old supe wasn't your ideal day, nor was it ever on your bucket list. but, maybe it'll be worthwhile.

word count: 7k

WARNINGS/DISCLAIMERS: (18+ only!) fem!reader, slight slow burn but very much worth it, porn w/ somewhat much plot & angst/fluff, praise/degrading, use of pet names (honey, baby, sweetheart, etc), drugs i.e. snorting shit (oops, but what else did u expect w/ him..), handjob, piv, unprotected gradual rough sex, tiny bit of hair pulling, coming inside, i thinkk that might be it? happy ending :p another disclaimer: soldier boy's def much softer/vulnerable here cus i feel like reader can change him :) (i'm delusional) :) hope u enjoy! <33

ao3 link! | my masterlist

it’s not like you wanted to babysit. 

and by babysit, i mean watching a 100 year old supe that was still very much alive and well. did i also mention that he was an asshole?

probably not, but you should know that too.

“butcher! no fucking way, there's no fucking way i’m doing this shit!”

you whispered loudly in the british man’s face, trying to make sure that supe couldn’t hear you. but, god, what could that man not do?

butcher rolled his eyes at you, that constant, smug smirk plastered on his face as he shook his head. “oh, c’mon love. you’ll be fine. all he’ll do is watch the telly, snort some shit, and talk ya’ ear off,” he laughed as he stared at your annoyed expression, “i need you here, anyway. can’t have anything happen to you, you got that?”

you turned away from him for a moment, crossing your arms and glancing at the infamous man sat on the hotel bed. you bit the inside of your cheek, sighing out as your head hung low, staring at the floor. for once, you just wanted butcher to take you seriously. to bring you along for the important shit, not this.

but, what else could you do?

you moved to face him again, letting out a noise of disapproval, but your words showing otherwise. “fine, fine, okay. just this one fucking time, okay? you owe me.” you spoke loudly now, your irritation extremely evident.

“oh, come on, doll. am i really that bad?”

soldier boy’s ben’s voice made you flinch; his booming voice sending a rush throughout your body. one part of you was afraid, and the other annoyed. you whipped your head to look at him, his large frame stood in front of you now. he was more than just large; he was powerful.. intimidating. and you’d be lying to yourself if he wasn’t at least a.. little attractive to you. but, you couldn’t let that affect you.

he also had an unbearable ego that practically everyone around him could sense, his arrogant smile directed towards you nearly making your blood boil. 

“considering how much of a conceited asshole you are, i’d say yes,” you bit back at him, returning a condescending grin in response.

ben whistled then, his smile never faltering as he took in your powerful presence and words. “phew! she’s a feisty one, yeah? she yours or is she for the taking?” he teased butcher as a low laugh erupted from him, making you groan. to your surprise, though, his question sounded genuine.

“oh, fuck you! i’m not anyone’s!” you let out, tightening your crossed arms as your eyes moved to butcher. he all but laughed, pursing his lips as he shook his head at ben, pausing for a moment. “oi, play nice you two. can’t be coming back to this room in shambles..” his eyes flickered between you and ben, licking his lips, “but, to answer your question; no, she ain’t, but good luck tryin’, mate. i tried it myself.”

you punched butcher’s shoulder at that, scoffing. “don’t encourage him, you asshole.”

butcher laughed, raising his hands in surrender and giving you an almost apologetic look as he backed up, starting to walk towards the hotel room door. “alright, bye now, love. and you–” he pointed towards ben, his face hardening for a second, “behave, will ya?”

you watched him open the door, shutting it behind him as dread filled your every being. you turned to ben again, his eyes already fixed on you with that same smirk.

“oh yeah, i’ll definitely behave.”

only a few hours in, and you already feel like you’re going insane.

a ton of snarky remarks and about a million snorts of cocaine later, you’re just fighting the throbbing headache that’s building up. hell, anyone would feel the same in your position.

ben was sitting at the small table, you at the end of the bed right next to it, surrounded by fast food and pills. using the end of his knife, he was crushing the small tablets on the table, turning them into fine, white powder. it made you cringe, to say the least.

you watched him as he lined it up, sliding his nose through it eagerly as he sniffed, snorting the line completely. he let out a groan of satisfaction, the white powder stuck on his skin as the high he so desperately craved filled his body.

you let out a quiet chuckle to yourself, shaking your head. for one of the greatest supes in the history of mankind, he was certainly a treasure.

not.

“what are you laughin’ at, huh?” ben looks at you, his face firm as he poses the question. your lips flip, pursing, then frowning slightly as you shake your head. “oh, nothing, nothing. you just.. love that shit, don’t you?” you accuse, a small chuckle escaping your lips again.

his face shifts, a faint smile presented. “what? you want some, is that it?”

“oh no, god no. don’t want any coke of yours, no thank you.” you turn him down instantly, almost as if you couldn’t dream of it.

he laughs now, the deep gravel in it making you shudder slightly. “s’not cocaine, sweetheart. something like it, yeah, but not coke,” he informs you, watching intently as you return your attention to him, interest piquing. you didn’t know much about these kinds of drugs, surprisingly enough considering the people you surrounded yourself with, but you weren’t completely innocent.

he takes notice of your sudden curiosity; your eyes widening just a tad bit more than usual. the way your body language shifts. he notices it all.

cocking his head slightly, he lets out a small chuckle again. “you ever done drugs before, sweetheart?” he asks sincerely, wanting to know. you deny, shaking your head, “no, i mean– i’ve smoked weed maybe once, but i don’t know– never had a reason to do it again, i guess.”

he raises an eyebrow at that, leaning back against the chair he was sat in and crosses his arms. “that so? i’m shocked,” he hums, biting the inside of his cheek at he stares at you, “powerhouse like you, i woulda’ expected you to do allll that crazy shit.”

you snort, looking at him in disbelief. “you got the wrong idea of me then, soldier boy.” you tell him, emphasizing his name. boost his ego a bit more for the fun of it, y’know?

he snickers, staring at you as if you were some puzzle he needed to solve. “do i?” he pushes, leaning a bit forward, “i don’t think i do.”

you roll your eyes at him. “and why’s that?” 

he breathes out, grinning even wider. “sweetheart, you’ve got it written all over you.”

your eyebrows furrow at him, confused. the fuck did he mean by that?

before you could question him, he beats you to it, laying it on you.

“i mean, your attitude with butcher earlier? i don’t know about you, but that don’t sound like someone who takes shit.” he scoffs, his eyes locked on you as he pauses.

“...and you’re not taking any of mine, are you?”

you breathe out through your nose, licking your drying lips and taking in his words. “no, no i guess i’m not,” you admit, appreciating the slight bit of generosity from him, “but, what’s that gotta do with me and your drugs?” you laugh, unable to connect the two.

ben shakes his head, uncrossing his arms and moving his forearm on top of the table, leaning on it. “you’re a curious one, aren’t you? that’s why you didn’t wanna stay with me, right? y’wanted to go out there, save the fuckin’ world, huh?” he inquires, giving you the perfect opportunity to tease him instead of taking him seriously.

“well, no. i actually didn’t wanna stay with you because you’re an–”

“stop being a fuckin’ nag and answer the question.”

his voice booms in your ears, the direct intimidation from him working on you like a charm. you swallow, eyes shifting to look at the table for a moment before returning to him. 

“fine, whatever, i guess you’re right, yeah, i’m.. curious. but, fuck..” you lick your bottom lip, shaking your head as you stare out in front of you, “you try being part of this shit for years, and not being given any opportunity to..” you trail off, huffing.

“to be a hero?” ben questions.

you turn to him now, sad eyes staring into his own. “to be a hero.”

he shakes his head, wiping his mouth and nose as he inhales sharply. “you don’t want that life, kid. trust me.”

your jaw falls open a bit at him, your voice rising, “what the hell do you know about what i want? you don’t know me.”

he huffs, his hand pressing into his knee as leverage as his body leans in towards you, scoffing.

“the fuck did i go through? huh? i was asleep for decades, sweetheart. much before that, i was tortured and experimented on and treated like a piece of fucking meat. an animal.” you stare at him sadly, your demeanor falling as he looks at you with hardened eyes.

“being a fuckin’ hero..” he shakes his head, laughing as his head lowers to look down at his lap, “look where the fuck that got me.” he mutters out, his upper lip twitching as he breathes heavily.

silence fills the room between you two as the faint background noise from the television whirs. you didn’t know what to say. you just knew that maybe.. you were wrong about soldier boy– ben.

he was avoiding your gaze, his chest rising and falling in an attempt to calm himself down. you swallow, pursing your lips. “ben.. i’m sorry you went through that, i really am,” you began, causing him to lift his head at you, “but.. that doesn’t change the fact that you’ve helped people. you’ve saved people. and, yeah, maybe sometimes you weren’t the good guy, but.. you’ve done more than what a lot of people would.”

he looks at you with doe eyes, taking in your little speech. he nods, and it’s almost as if he can’t possibly believe you, but he does. he decides to trust you as your words give him the slightest bit of hope in his heart. an emotion he hasn’t felt all these years.

he sniffs suddenly, clearing his throat and shaking his head as if he were shaking himself out of it. “yeah, well, maybe you’re right. still wouldn’t want yo–” he pauses, cutting himself off, “uh, y’know, going through that.”

you give him a small smile, understanding him completely. it was hard for him to be vulnerable; you knew that now. but, you appreciated his efforts nonetheless. it made you see him.. differently. the way he spoke to you about his experiences.. you wondered if there truly was a good man underneath that harsh persona.

“well, thank you.. soldier boy.”

“oh, stop with that shit. ben.”

you smile. “ben.”

“alright, love. m’ sorry, i promise i’ll make it up to you, yeah?”

you groan into the phone held against your ear, picking up the words of the same british man on the other end of the line. god, i’m never letting him off the hook, you thought to yourself. 

“okay, yeah, whatever.”

“don’t stay mad at me–”

you cut him off, “bye, butcher.”

“bye, love.”

you hear him end the phone call, the sound making you throw your phone down on the bed irritatedly. “the fuck happened?” ben asks you as he sits up on the bed, putting the remote down from surfing through channels with you for hours now. it was nighttime before you knew it, and you spent most of the day talking to ben here and there, as well as watching random shows and movies. certain topics were definitely touchy, but you were starting to get to know him more, and him with you.

you huff, walking over to the empty side of the bed to sit down next to him, crossing your arms. “we gotta stay here for the night. butcher n’ hughie are being held up with some.. shit, and don’t want us leaving without them.”

he lets out a chuckle towards your frustration. “don’t see a problem with that.”

you roll your eyes, turning to face him. “of course you don’t, you’re like– a million years old. i’m bored!” you whine, groaning. you don’t mean to act immature or fussy, but fuck, you were younger than him and needed other kinds of entertainment to survive (dramatically put). shitty television just wasn’t doing it for you.

he scoffs, “oh, fuck you. i can be plenty of fun, doll.”

“oh, yeah? prove it.” you reply, raising an eyebrow.

he smirks at you then, leaning in a bit closer as his face grows snarky. “you want me to show you fun?” he teases.

you groan, grimacing, “ugh, grossss..” you draw out, swallowing sharply as you turn away.

what you didn’t want to do was recognize the butterflies you felt at the thought. or the way your heart skipped a beat at him growing closer towards you. fuck, no.

he snickers, eyes still fixed on you completely. “oh, c’mon, honey. y’know i’m a great fuck. n’ besides.. it’s been awhile..” he teases you further, and he makes it sound so sleazy that it feels like a joke; fuck, maybe he really was just trying to rile you up.

you shake your head though, playing along. “nice try, ben. gonna have to try harder than that, though.” you stand your ground, giving him a faux smile.

he raises his hands in surrender, shrugging his shoulders. “hey, i’ll fuckin’ work for it, baby, i’ll tell you that much.” he admits, grinning at you.

you try your hardest to keep your composure, fighting the heat growing in your face, especially with that new nickname he gives you. a weak spot.

fuck. this was gonna be much harder than you thought.

you’re finishing the leftover fries that ben requested earlier, snagging them from his side as you laid next to him on the bed; cold and soggy, and definitely not appetizing, but you’re working with what you’ve got. you feel the bed shift before looking up at ben, his eyes on you as he moves.

“so, other ideas of fun..” ben trails, standing up from the bed and walking towards the table.

“i’m listening..” you curiously give in.

he grabs his knife, pouring out the remainder of his pills, and starts to crush them, noticing the way his eyes look up at you, eyebrows raised.

“you do a line with me. just one–” he suggests, his attention focused to see how you’ll react. “and you can loosen up for fuckin’ once.”

you grimace at his suggestion, denying him immediately. “no, ben, i don’t.. i don’t know. this isn’t my kind of thing, you know that..” you speak, evidently unsure of the act. come on, snorting some random, crushed up pills? didn’t sound like much fun to you.

he puts the knife down, turning his entire body to fully face you now. “hey, you said you were curious, didn’t you?” he raises an eyebrow, “doesn’t hurt to try it once. besides.. you can trust me, can’t you?” he teases, a sly smile on his face.

you huff, “yeah, sure. sure i can.” you joke at him, sarcasm filling your voice entirely. your face drops though, seriously contemplating his inquiry. “okay, seriously, though. it won’t fuck me up.. completely, right?”

he laughs at your question, his low voice rumbling. “not unless you take more than you can handle, baby.” he tells you, starting to crush the pills again. “i’m right here, though. i’ll getcha’ through it. promise.”

you were shocked at how.. kind he was being with you. how utterly careful he was with you now. it was odd, to say the least. but, you liked this side of him. maybe that’s why you were starting to feel so comfortable with him now.

you think about it for a few seconds longer before ultimately coming to a decision. “i.. okay, okay. just once.” you agree, nervously standing up from the bed and approaching the table, pulling up another chair to sit next to him.

fuck it. what else did you have to lose?

sitting down, you watch carefully as he proceeds to crush up the pills, examining how fine the powder turned. ben uses the knife to separate it, forming some of it into a line that was a bit shorter than what you saw him repeatedly snort earlier. 

was he making sure he wasn’t giving you too much? maybe. you didn’t want to think of it too much.. his intentions. you couldn’t. 

you swallow tensely, eyes flickering from the table to his face as he finishes, his own setting themselves on you. he gives you a small smile; an almost encouraging kind, providing you with a bit of comfort.

he raises an eyebrow at you. “you ready?”

“uh,” you stammer out, biting your bottom lip, “what exactly.. is it, though? i mean, what’s it gonna do to me?” you ask warily, second thoughts arising in your head.

he sighs out as he attempts to think of what to say. “these here are bennies, as we call em’. or, well– what i call em’,” he lets out a small laugh, cocking his head, “they’re amphetamines. they’ll just.. give ya’ a bit more energy.. that euphoria people talk about,” he explains to you as thoroughly as he can, “shouldn’t last too long, n’ if anything, you can try to sleep it off, sweetheart. no harm, no foul.”

he watches your face as you absorb his answer, noticing your features relax with each second that passes. he grins even more, listening to you.

“okay.. okay, doesn’t sound.. too bad. let’s do it,” you quickly spur out, shaking yourself out of it. “fuck it.”

“atta girl.” he gleames, his hand lifting to rub your upper back gently for just a moment; a moment long enough to send chills down your spine. the first time he’s really made any physical contact with you, and you’re already a mess. 

fuck, why did that feel good? why did that sound good? it was a harmless gesture.

you need that high, and you need it now. maybe that was the only way you could get through this long ass night with him.

“okay. do i just.. sniff it, uh?” you ask him, letting out an embarrassed laugh as your lips turn upwards. he nods, his own lips curling. “don’t overthink it. you’ve seen me do it a hundred times now,” he tells you confidently, muttering out the last words, “y’know what to do, honey.”

you just nod, leaning your head forward and slowly putting your nose against the right side of the line. before you can allow yourself to back out, you slide your nose towards the left, snorting it completely. you lift your head up, an abrupt cough escaping your throat as your nose burns, your eyes rolling back before shutting tightly.

“oh, there you fucking go. there you go, baby, there you go..” ben softly praises you, his words almost echoing in your ears as your head thumps. his hand returns back to your skin as he rubs your back in circular motions, your breathing growing heavy as you feel the drug enter your system.

“oh, fuck, ben, what the fuck!” you let out, a laugh escaping your throat as your head grows hazy. you turn to him, his hand still rubbing your back, which was definitely helping, and you grin widely. “that was fucking crazy!” you all but yell, excitement getting the best of you. what a way to show your experience, huh?

he chuckles, shaking his head as he stares at you. “alright, don’t get ahead of yourself, peaches. barely gave you half of what i’d normally do,” ben tells you, teeth bare as his smile widens, “that’s enough shit for you, little lady. can’t be too much of a bad influence on ya’, can i? butcher would rip me a new one.. or he’d try, at least.”

you giggle at that, your composure slowly, but surely, fading. “oh ben, aren’t you supposed to be a big n’ bad supe?” you breathe out, “he’s just a man.. and you’re a.. superhero.. y’wouldn’t let him..” you murmur out, eyes dazed out as you look at the man in front of you. his scruffy beard.. his messy hair.. the details in his skin.. fuck.

was he always this pretty?

you giggle again, his hand slowly lowering to the midst of your back to rest there. he chuckles lowly; an action that makes your breath hitch. “oh, sweetheart.. you’re feeling it already, aren’t you? quicker than i thought..” he trails off, cocking his head, “you think i’m some big, bad supe? s’that it?” he teases, lips curling up as he breathes you in, inching just a tad bit closer. “think i wouldn’t let him get one in?” he whispers.

you shake your head, smile dropping as your face hardens. “no, no, i wouldn’t, nuh uh,” you deny, biting your lip as energy suddenly surges through you, your filter entirely out the window. “i’ve seen you, you know? i mean, who hasn’t? videos of.. the way you fight.. you’re strong..” you mutter, swallowing as you giggle again, “so strong.”

he laughs, his index and middle finger connecting to rub subtle circles on your skin, “have you now?” he asks almost matter-of-factly, “you did research on me, baby?”

your stomach drops a bit, butterflies storming your stomach at the nickname again. you stammer out, “no, no, not research– i mean– yeah, i.. searched you up, but i jus’ wanted to see who you were before i.. came here, but.. s’not like i.. put that much thought into it, i–” you spit out, an involuntary laugh erupting from you as your cheeks heat up from your confession. a lie that escapes straight through your teeth.

oh god. why the fuck were you saying all of this shit outloud? stop!

he shrugs, a sly frown swift on his lips. “don’t gotta make a fuss about it, honey. s’cute. real sweet of you..” he grins, the hand so glued onto your back sliding down sleekly, fingers gripping onto your hip now. you gasp softly at the sudden touch, his grasp on you pulling you just a bit closer to him. your chairs are right next to each other, hips nearly joined together now. he whispers out, his mouth close enough to catch your ear, “sweet girl like you.. i’m honored you think of me that way. wouldn’t have suspected it from how feisty you were earlier.”

you roll your eyes at him, avoiding the flutter in your core as the drug builds up inside of you, fighting it. “oh, come on. you probably used to get this shit all of the time.”

he breathes out, shaking his head. “not from people i want it from..” his jaw falls open as his eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips, murmuring, “..not from you.”

your breath hitches in your throat, turning your head to look at him as your cheeks flush. you gulp, heartbeat quickening as you notice his gaze entirely locked on you. he was being serious. this wasn’t some kind of sick game of his.

you remain quiet, unsure how to respond. too nervous, too dazed to come up with some snarky remark you usually would; that you should bite back with. but, you don’t.

instead, ben’s fingers dance on your hip subtly, his other hand lifting up to caress your face; his thumb gliding against your cheek, trailing down to your bottom lip as his gaze that was once on your eyes fixes onto your mouth.. gorgeous as ever.

his thumb catches itself on your lip, pulling it down gently as he hums, satisfied. you gulp, shaking your head gently as you process what this was leading up to.

“ben.. we shouldn’t..” you whisper out, shutting your eyes for a moment as you pull away from him; just enough to have his hold off of your face. he was a fucking supe, for christ sake. you were human. and sooner or later, he’d be gone again; just like that. you couldn’t. no matter how much you so desperately craved it.

he lets out a disappointed noise, breathing out through his mouth, “why not, sweetheart?” he closes in on you again, lips near your ear as he hums, “don’t you like me, baby? don’t you want me? i like you.. n’ i sure as hell.. need you..” he sighs out, his hot breath hitting the sensitive skin on your neck, your body trembling at the feeling.

you groan softly at his words and the touch of his breath against your skin, shutting your eyes tightly. he huffs, pushing his nose softly against your neck, inhaling your scent and rapidly muttering out, “c’mon, baby, c’mon.. gonna take care of you, yeah? make you feel good, don’t y’want that?” he presses kisses on your neck, slowly trailing up to your cheek as his hands move to cup your face, quiet gasps escaping your lips. your eyes open up hazily, rolling to the back of your head as you lift your neck just enough to give him more room.

you don’t even think before you’re pressing a sloppy kiss to his lips, quietly moaning into it as your eyes flutter shut again; your disoriented mind taking over your body completely. he groans against your mouth, his soft lips becoming so harsh against yours, needy and having been deprived of this pleasure for so long.

he pulls away from the kiss for a moment, allowing the two of you to catch your breath as his large hand grips your face, the hold on it tight and rugged. he turns your head to the side, moving in to attack your neck once more with his lips, teeth grazing the skin as he grunts, his body closing in entirely.

it’s primal; instinctive and downright dirty the more he grows impatient. no longer gentle; not him, not now. he all but stands as he leans into you, his free hand moving from your back to your hips, wrapping his arm around you as he uses his super strength to lift you up effortlessly. you yelp as he picks you up, placing you directly on his lap as he settles himself back in his chair, your legs hung around his sides to the best of your ability.

“pretty fucking girl.. you stay right here..” he murmurs out, returning his kisses on you as if his seamless actions were nothing. his hands move to grip your hips tightly now, pushing you further into his lap as you involuntarily grind into him; his cock through those grey sweatpants of his beginning to harden.

“b-ben,” you stammer out, pants heavy as you let him touch you, feel you just how he wants, and you, taking him as you please. your hips and their movements quicken slowly, gradually building up and up the more your cunt throbs against his clothed skin; the way his strong hands keep you moving for him without a second to waste.

your cloudy mind from the drug intervenes with your control, unable to fully grasp your feelings or words that slip from your mind, keeping you completely vulnerable to the man below you. 

god, did that annoy you. 

but, fuck, did it feel so good.

“need you to fuck me, please, ben, please..” you whine out, grinding your core against his hardened cock faster, harder, your impatience getting the best of you. he laughs against your skin, a small moan seeping out of it as he gently bites your neck. “so needy, aren’t you, baby? gonna give you what you want, don’t you worry..”

the hands on your hips find themselves lowering, landing on your ass instantly as ben squeezes, groaning out at the feeling of your flush skin beneath his fingertips. he takes control of you easily, moving your body along his thighs and digging your cunt where he needs it the most. 

the constant friction makes you wetter with each push of his hands, his cock imprinting against his sweatpants with a perfect outline, your panties growing soaked at the sensation of it. an incoherent string of noises falls out of your lips, the gasps and moans sounding like porn to ben’s ears. a satisfied laugh from him shakes you to your core, that deep rumble multiplying your arousal.

you take matters into your own hands, fingers pushing down against his wrists to get him to loosen his grip on you, which he does. you scoot yourself back to disconnect your body from his abdomen, hips stilling on his thighs now, giving you an enticing view of the strain in his pants.

“i said..” you breathe out, mouth falling open as you look into his eyes, lust pouring out of them, “i need you to fuck me,” you emphasize, your fingers moving to palm his bulging cock through his sweats, “so, fuck me.”

you can’t be bothered anymore. you’re past waiting.

your hands slowly find a rhythm as you maintain eye contact with him, ben immediately reacting with a low moan as his hips thrust needily, “fuck, baby..” he hisses out as your fingers slip to the waistband of his sweats, your hand reaching beneath the layer. to your surprise, and delight; no underwear.

god, he was a fucking whore. you loved it. 

“jesus christ, ben,” you let out a laugh as you wrap your fingers around his cock, putting just enough pressure on it, and it makes him twitch against your touch. it elicits a throaty whine from his lips that has you clenching around nothing, squeezing him tighter, tighter. “jus’ take what you want, sweetheart, need you ‘round me, c’mon, ” ben spurs out rapidly, his words the least coherent they’ve been; his usual, old hollywood-esque diction in his voice gone. 

soldier boy, begging you with your hands on his cock and your ass in his lap? 

you couldn’t have possibly dreamt of this moment till now.

you try to hold yourself back, but the little amount of sobriety inside of you’s hardly strong enough to help you achieve that. no more waiting. not now.

“you’re lucky i’m impatient,” you breathe out, and before ben can react, you’re slipping his cock out of his sweats, the heavy weight of him on your hand sending you into a damn near spiral as he twitches against your fingers again, pre-cum practically leaking out of the tip.

you let go of him though, fingers desperately moving to the waistband of your loose sweats to slip them off. ben’s helping you immediately, lifting your hip for you with one hand, and the other hurriedly pushing them down, nearly ripping them off from the pace and force; off, off, off, he all but mutters out with eager noises.

“stupid fuckin’.. fuck, g’off–” ben grumbles until they’re successfully on the floor, and he sighs out in satisfaction, “no more fuckin’ waiting, n’more teasing.”

you nod hurriedly at him, bare legs exposed for him now as his fingers dig into your thighs, taking no second to waste to slide to the hem of your panties, fingers hooking onto them. “useless fuckin’ things,” ben murmurs, and before you can protest, he rips them off seamlessly, throwing them to the floor.

your jaw falls open, gasping out at him, “ben! fuck, i needed those! i didn’t pack any–” 

he shuts you up instantly, his thick index and middle fingers finding your slit, swiping through your soaked folds, and you whine loudly, the sensation making your core tighten. he hushes you softly, looking up at you eagerly, “shh, shh, honey, y’don’t need that shit with me, not now. gonna fuck you right here. now. you’re soaked already.” 

your heavy eyes stare into his own, nodding eagerly as the tip of his fingers bump against your clit, sending a jolt throughout your body. he moans with a short laugh, leaning in to press a messy kiss to your mouth, his other hand just above your ass. he taps your lower back, muttering, “come up here.. gonna have you sit on my cock.. get in as deep as i fucking can.”

you grunt at his words, whining, “fuck, please, ben..” as the sole thought of it sends pulses to your pussy. you nod frantically, immediately scooting closer on his lap to reach his member, kneeling on the sides of his body to lift yourself up. ben’s hand grips the base of his cock to lift it up, and he’s hard, the girth making you drool. you gulp, wondering how the fuck you’ll fit it in, but you’re too high to fucking care.

you position yourself above him, the fat head of it lined up to your cunt perfectly. his hand on your back helps you move closer, the tip nudging against your hole as both hands grip your hips now, fingers digging into your skin. you bite your lip as you look down at his cock, core tensing in preparation. staring into his eyes now, you move, lowering yourself slowly as your walls engulf him bit by bit, inch by inch.

both of you moan as you take him, clenching around him so much that you nearly see stars. you’re so tight around him, and he’s in heaven.

ben groans loudly as his eyes fix on your pussy, and it’s porn right in front of him. he sputters out mindless noises, gritting his teeth as you finally take him to the hilt, feeling his cock fill you up, nudging the deepest parts inside of you.

you hiss out as you sink, your thighs colliding with his own as you adjust to him. “you’re so fuckin’.. tight, oh fuck, sweetheart..” he whines out, and you’re relishing in this; in him. you start moving, hips involuntarily rocking against him as you move up and down. it’s messy; out of rhythm and desperate, but so fucking good.

“haven’t..” he grunts, gripping your hips harder for leverage, “fucked a pussy like this in a long fucking time.” his breaths grow louder the more you move, your throbbing hole just above the tip and slamming back down repeatedly. your core tightens as he starts to thrust up into you, meeting your synchronized movements immediately, and you cry out as you take it. 

you blabber out mindlessly at the sensation, incoherent whines and what seems to sound like ben’s name over and over again filling his ears, and he just laughs, lifting himself from the back of the chair to sit up, adjusting you with him. his chest meets your body, chin resting on your shoulder as his hand finds your hair, gripping it tightly and pushing your body into him. he’s flush against your skin as he huffs into your ear, the hot breath engulfing your brain. your fucked out head and blown, wide eyes.

he moves against you as you bounce on his cock, words spurring out with his harsh pants on your skin, fingers tightening into your hair, “no thoughts in this pretty head, huh? nothin’ but my fucking cock in this cunt. s’how it should be. pretty girls like you.. s’what you’re made for.. made for me.”

your head scrambles at his words; the way they’re so filthy, but most of all? 

because of how right he is.

he fits inside of you like a glove; a perfect hole that’s meant for him to fuck. it has your eyes lolling back over and over again, unable to truly focus on the task at hand. and when your movements begin to slow because of this, ben’s grip on you handles it for you, hips thrusting up into you aggressively. your stomach tightens repeatedly as the tip of his cock hits the deepest parts inside of you, practically bulging out with each hit into you, and it makes your pussy convulse around him, rambled noises escaping your lips.

“am i right, honey? are you made for me?” ben growls in your ear, his harsh grunts echoing, “fuckin’,” he huffs, “answer me..”

his words hardly register in your brain as you grow closer and closer to your release, short moans being the only thing you can muster out, along with a few noises that almost sound like ben’s name. “mmphf– b-be– ah–”

he shushes you, arms wrapped around your body, “don’t gotta think baby, just feel.. let me take you like this, just feel me..” ben whispers desperately into your ear, moving one of his hands to reach between you, the large palm pressing into your lower abdomen, “right fucking here. you’re gonna feel me for fucking days, baby.”

it has your stomach doing flips, body quivering against ben’s hold. your eyes shoot open as he begins to slow his thrusts, relying on pure power rather than speed now. his hips snap into you repeatedly, slow and deliberate as if he needs to make sure your body memorizes the shape of his cock.

and, knowing him? you probably will.

you know that you’ll never get fucked like this again. you know that you’re already completely ruined for any other man now. and a part of you’s okay with that.

his fingers gripping your hair. his hands digging into your skin. the strike of his hips, holding you captive for him as he takes you. how could you think of anything else?

ben’s power over you doesn’t relent at all, his super strength enough leverage to keep himself completely occupied. the hips slamming inside of you have you seeing stars now, your eyes threatening to twitch open in bliss as he buries himself in your throbbing cunt. you involuntarily flutter around him, walls pulsing as your core constricts.

you feel ben’s cock twitch inside of you, his moans growing heavier as he lets out a breathless laugh, “you’re so.. close, i can feel you, sweetheart..” he grunts and snarls, his thrusts quickening rapidly, “and you’re gonna come on my cock like the good girl you are.. while i fill you up.. make sure i stay in this sweet pussy forever.”

you cry out as that familiar heat in your stomach arises, blurting out nonsense, along with a, “p-please, ben, please–”, that leaves you panting.

“yeah, baby? want me to come inside of you, s’that it?”

you nod furiously, whining out as your face heats up at the thought, flush and its sensation overwhelming you. you’re hot all over, and you just need a release.

“that’s my girl.. my sweet girl. gonna come inside of you, give you what you need..” he breathes out against your ear, and before you realize it, you’re convulsing around his cock, yelping out as you come. your hands grip onto his back, his arms, anything you can hold onto as you ride through it.

“there we go, baby, just like that, my fuckin’ girl..” he encourages you, overstimulating you with his unrelenting hips as he buries himself inside of you over and over again, making you clench around him uncontrollably. you’re spewing out mindless moans as your walls spasm, and it makes ben whine. 

he grunts out rapidly, unable to control the noises he makes as his hands on your hips feel tight enough to leave bruises, “gonna.. gonna fuckin’, oh– fuck!–” he moans loudly, cutting himself off as he pushes you down to the hilt, cock twitching rapidly with his come spilling inside of you. you feel the streams of hot white bury inside of you, and you’re lightheaded at the feeling, the aftershocks of your orgasm forming tears in your eyes.

you whine against him as you hold on tight, his hips rocking into you as you both ride it out. it’s almost intimate at how breathless the two of you are, taking in each other completely.

he huffs against your skin, pressing a small kiss to your shoulder. it’s wordless, but it goes without saying. 

this was a moment you’d never forget. and you hoped that he wouldn’t either.

eventually, ben lifts your hips up, his cock sliding out of you as the mess you both made slips out of your cunt, making you whine at the feeling of his come falling out of you. the slick catches itself on his cock, spilling onto his grey sweats sloppily, and you can’t deny the twinge of arousal the sight brings you. leave that for another time.

you take a deep breath as you let out a small laugh, preparing to say something about getting up and cleaning yourself up, but to your surprise, ben’s arm holds onto your body tightly, lifting you up as his other hand shoves his sweats down, feet stepping out of them. he’ll deal with it later.

you yelp as he stands up fully with you in his arms, carrying you as he walks over to the shitty hotel bathroom, lowering you to stand in the bathtub. ben hums softly as he grabs a small rag, running warm water underneath it and squeezing out the excess water.

you’re in too much.. shock to bring yourself to say anything, but when he brings the rag to wipe your inner thighs and core, you let out a noise of surprise, cheeks warming up. who the fuck knew soldier boy could be so.. gentle?

he doesn’t look up at you as he continues. instead, he asks, “what? too hot?”

you let out a laugh, shaking your head. “no, just right.”

he lets out a satisfied noise as he finishes cleaning you up thoroughly, throwing the rag to the side as he grabs another one for himself, repeating the process. you watch him in awe as he does so, and you try your hardest to make sure you don’t fall in love with him.

but, when he carries you to the hotel bed and lays you down like you’re glass that might break, it seems a bit too late for that. and when he gets in that bed with you and holds you like his life depends on it? 

you know you’re done for, and you’re in for a ride.

[koqabear]

hands-on lesson

“Intern Hueningkai is doing his best to follow in his mentor’s footsteps— Taehyun thinks the younger is a little lacking, but there’s nothing a good training session can’t fix.”

Taehyun x fem!reader x Hueningkai

genre: office au, smut, fluff

word count: 8.6K (me when i say js smth short and LIE)

warnings: barely proof read :3 hard dom!Taehyun, sub(ish)!Hueningkai, sub!reader, no mxm but… there’s definitely something odd happening there, shy!huening, slight jealousy, possessiveness, alcohol, dry humping, spanking, manhandling, nipple play, oral (f. rec.) pet names (honey, baby, sweet girl, angel, pup, good boy [m. rec] etc.) degrading, hair pulling (m. rec), fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, degrading, praise, biting, voyeurism/exhibitionism?, masturbating, strength kink, hueningkai carries the reader once, size kink, scratching, begging, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, creampies, dacryphilia, bulge kink, big dick tyunning, phew!!! (lmk if i should add anything!)

notes: no thoughts. saw txt bank and tyunnings looks…. *__* #NEEDthat (only like 2k of plot and the rest smut… god… used to pray for times like these)

Hueningkai has always been a bit of an awkward person. It’s his biggest fault, he realizes, blessed with characteristics and looks that give him a demanding presence, aware of the lingering glances and strong impressions he leaves— and while such attention could be seen as a blessing to others, it only has him sweating and shifting uncomfortably, just as he is now as he makes his way into his new office job. 

It was all supposed to be simple; a private, indoor nine-to-five, where he sat at his desk and stared at spreadsheets all day. A job with minimal communication, something straight from his wildest, introverted dreams. Sure, his coworkers were much more sociable than expected— it was a small, tight-knit community, one that included drinks after work and invites to eat lunch together— but what hadn’t been expected whatsoever, was the loop that you would throw him in.

He’d like to think that he’s always been a composed person; knowing when to keep to himself, scurrying away from interactions he knows will leave a sour taste in his mouth later, but with you, all logic seems to be thrown out the window— and he finds himself blabbering like an idiot in front of you, stuttering through the simplest of sentences after you’ve only asked him if he’d like to join you and your fellow colleagues for drinks after work. Despite his gut screaming at him to politely decline, to make up a reason to not go and excuse himself, he finds himself giving in with one hopeful, shining look of yours. 

Never mix business and pleasure; it was a universal rule, right? So why Hueningkai found himself dawdling in front of the bathroom mirror, combing his fingers through his bangs and wiping his glasses nervously, he couldn’t quite fathom. Did his suit look okay? If he’d have known that his day would end with him going to a bar, he would’ve chosen something more breathable. He’s taken much longer than anticipated in the bathroom, and he knows that the others are still waiting for him, but he just can’t bring himself to move— his feet remained glued to the tiles, and his eyes continue to search his reflection for any imperfections, shaky fingers re-tucking his shirt in for the umpteenth time.

“Are you gonna come out? Or do you need me to hold your hand and walk you out,” the soft yelp of surprise that jumps from Hueningkai is nothing short of pitiful, whirling around and clutching onto the sink as he makes eye contact with a stone-faced Taehyun— the two regard each other in silence for a moment, and Taehyun can only watch with amusement as the tips of Hueningkai’s ears grow from a warm, honey color to a vibrant red. 

“I-I’m sorry, I was just,” he clears his throat, fixing his posture to stand at his full height, under the deceptive hopes of exuding confidence, “just touching up. Looks like I got distracted.”

He tries to crack a small smile, the action faltering after Taehyun simply gives him a once-over and nods solemnly. A dreadful silence fills the air once again, suffocating Hueningkai as he shifts his weight and clears his throat nervously. 

“You look fine,” Taehyun says, holding the bathroom door open and nodding out to where the others wait, “let’s go.”

“Ah. Of course,” Hueningkai can only keep his head bowed and his steps quick as he passes the man, only a few months older than him yet oddly intimidating, always carrying a knowing glint in his eyes that keeps him on edge. 

Taehyun follows close behind, swift steps allowing him to catch up immediately as he passes Hueningkai with a soft, coy comment that renders him speechless. 

“I’m sure ___ will appreciate you dolling yourself up for her.”

Truly, Hueningkai ponders to himself, if there’s anyone in this office that should be made fun of for pining hopelessly after you, it should be Taehyun— at least, that’s the conclusion he arrives to as he watches the older man follow you around the whole night, desperate to make you laugh and constantly glancing over at you with those big, sparkling eyes of his, lips curling up to a fond smile Hueningkai isn’t sure Taehyun is aware of himself. 

The interaction at the office is chalked up to nothing but a jealous streak. Does it bother Taehyun, watching as you continue turning your attention back to Hueningkai all night, eager to include him in the team? He may be a bit socially inept, but Hueningkai isn’t oblivious of the watchful eye Taehyun places on him, hyper aware of his stare whenever he tries to talk and joke with you, no matter how successful the interaction— with every sweet smile and endearing laugh you let out, Hueningkai can’t help but glance over at Taehyun, only to find him already staring back. 

“How come this is the first time you’re here with us?” you ask at some point, a joyful flush lighting your face up as you sip idly on the glass of wine you ordered— you lean in curiously, a smile pulling at your lips as you observe the way Hueningkai tenses, eyes following his adam’s apple that bobs nervously. “I’ve been wanting to see you out here with the rest of the team, but you’d always refuse.” 

Your words are a bold jab that sends Huenginkai’s mind into a jumbling malfunction— it’s clear your choice was deliberate, and his mouth dries at the fact that you wanted him here. No matter how hard he fights it, a soft blush rises to his cheeks. 

“W-well, I suppose I was just… nervous.” he says, eyes darting away from you, trying to avoid that amused curl of your lips, the way your eyes sparkle and observe him carefully, clearly enjoying his reactions, “I’m still a bit new here, after all. I just wanted to get to know everyone better before I accepted.”

“Well, what better way to get to know each other than outside of work?” you ask, glancing around the bar, at your scattered coworkers that chat away in their own little bubbles. Hueningkai watches as your eyes light up mischievously, scooting closer so you can pull your final test to his resilience; your hand is hot as it lands just above his knee, placing your weight on it as you lean in to murmur in his ear.

“I’d love to get more familiar with you— and if the bar isn’t your favorite, I know of a better place we can talk.”

Before you can gauge Hueningkai’s reaction or give him a chance to respond, a call of your name takes you two apart— Hueningkai can only stare off into the distance, lost in a trance as you send Taehyun a bright smile, hopping off the barstool as he beckons you over to where he stands. It takes Hueningkai a few minutes before he can finally bring himself to move. 

“You’re quite curious about the new kid, aren’t you?” Taehyun asks, tilting his head curiously as he observes your reaction closely— you merely wave him off with a sheepish laugh, taking another sip of your drink before you answer. 

“It’s the first time I’ve seen him agree to come out with us— I wanted to make him feel included.”

“You’re so sweet,” he coos, leaning in and lowering his voice, eyes flickering off to a point over your shoulder, “I’m sure he feels real included with the way you smother him with your attention.”

“Awh, don’t get jealous,” you grin, biting back a grin at the way he closes in on you, not caring whether your coworkers see or not, “I’ve got plenty of my attention to go around.”

“Do you really?” he asks, his eyes intense as he holds your stare, “is that why you keep running back and forth between the two of us tonight?”

“Well, it’d be much easier for all of us to get along, no?” you say, doe eyes innocently sparkling with your question, “but I’m afraid you might just bite his head off every time you interact with him.”

“Actually, that’s not really true,” Taehyun corrects quietly, leaning in to murmur into your ear after you’ve sent him a confused look.

“I can be quite good at sharing, you know.”

The thrill of his sentence is like a spark of electricity sent down your spine. You allow his words to hang in the air, the proposal something that will either hold true or crumble like sand in your grip, and when you take a step back to look Taehyun in the eye, you’re met with just the thing you needed; a firm, bold stare, burning with an intensity that begs to be provoked.

When you reach out to take his hand, a haste gesture that’s returned by interlocked fingers and a tight grip, a satisfied smile snakes onto your lips; the two of you are swift as you weave through the crowd and back to the lonesome figure at the bar. 

The cocktail that Hueningkai has been nursing since the beginning of the night is watered down and has left a ring of condensation on the table. People watching can only be entertaining for so long before he’s itching to leave, having socialized enough to leave his battery drained for the rest of the week— the only thought on his mind now is to find you and say goodbye, but it seems as though the crowd has swallowed you whole. Just when he thinks it might be best to slip out wordlessly while he still can, a gentle hand lands on his shoulder. 

“Hope you weren’t thinking about running away,” you giggle softly, as though the mere idea of it were ridiculous— Hueningkai is spinning in his seat to face you, the relieved smile on his face tensing as he takes in the guest that you’ve brought along; but when Taehyun’s eyes lock with his, he can only find mischief swimming within, as though laughing at a joke Hueningkai had yet to be let in on. 

“It’s so crowded here, don’t you think?” you ask, refusing to address the bystander to your conversation, “It’s impossible to talk in here— let's step outside, I’m sure it’s better out there.”

Before he can realize the weight of his decision, Hueningkai nods and stands to his feet— anything to get out of this stifling environment, he thinks; maybe this way he can finally bid you goodbye and go rest.

It’s getting late— I think it’s best I head home now. Thank you for inviting me, I had a wonderful time with you. 

Simple, concise. Rehearsed. 

It was all thrown out the window the moment you batted those pretty eyes at him, grabbed his hand so gently— as though afraid you’d lose him if you didn’t handle him carefully. 

No— the moment you opened that perfect mouth of yours, used that gentle voice to lure him back to your place, had that been the moment Hueningkai was supposed to enforce self-restraint and turn you down? When you were already so close, your scent muddling his senses and your lips shining with that sticky gloss that shone obscenely under the street lights?

If it was, then Hueningkai was doomed from the start. 

“F-fuck, please, I can’t—” that skirt is truly a blessing in disguise, Hueningkai thinks to himself; tight in just the right ways, riding up your thighs and allowing your panties to peek through the pantyhose you wear, both equally soaked through as you grind pitifully into Taehyun’s lap.

“Hmm? Can’t take anymore?” Taehyun coos sweetly, bringing a heavy hand down to your ass and smiling at the way you yelp from the impact; his fingertips dig through the fabric and into your flesh, only hiking your skirt up more as he guides you over his covered cock— setting the pace, guiding you to press harder onto him, to feel his length rutting against your aching cunt. 

“Don’t you wanna give our intern a little show, honey?” he asks, looking over your shoulder and at the aforementioned man— the epitome of a mess, really, his face flushed and his eyes wide as he watches you rut hopelessly into Taehyun, a wet spot only growing on his gray slacks where you hump him mindlessly. 

“Wanna show him how it’s done?” he continues, leaving slow kisses along the column of your neck, listening to the way you gasp and plead for more, “teach him how to make a cute thing like you feel good?”

“Yes, yes yes yes,” you breathe, grabbing onto his neatly pressed button up with desperation, clutching it in your fists to tug him closer to you; glancing over your shoulder, you can only let out a weak whimper as your low-lidded eyes meet Hueningkai’s, a new wave of desperation washing over you as you press your leaking cunt further against Taehyun’s length. “Please, make me feel good.”

Such good manners, Hueningkai noted to himself, begging the way you do— that sweet, vulnerable tone, the break in your voice— how could they ever turn a request like that down?

You’re so soft— the feeling of your skin against his is an addicting sensation, running his palms up and down your torso like a fool as he hovers over you, lips glued to yours desperately; it’s a sloppy, sad excuse of a kiss, your swollen lips parted as Hueningkai drinks in your moans, feels the way spit pools at the corners of your lips, cooing soft praise as his hands reach up to grab your breasts— fingers pulling and tweaking your nipples teasingly to get you to squirm and squeal, just as he’d been shown— the gasp of Hueningkai’s name against his lips is enough to have him smiling in satisfaction.

“Pretty thing’s been toying with us all night,” Taehyun says sweetly, watching the two of you part and gasp for air— his eyes travel from the string of saliva that connects you two to the fucked out expression you don, dazed eyes barely holding eye contact with him as he smiles— his gaze then trails off to the nervous intern before him, head cocking to the side at the way he awkwardly continues to grip onto your waist, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your skin as a way to mask his restlessness. 

“And you’ve been teasing this poor boy so badly too, can’t you see how wound up you have him?” his teeth dig into his bottom lip, biting back a smile at the sight of you diligently turning back to the man in question, listening to the quiet whine he lets out, “Why don’t you give him a reward for being so patient with you?”

The two of you can only squirm and obey as Taehyun directs you two— his mere presence is domineering, his voice a firm command that finds you shifting nervously as Hueningkai stares down at your dripping pussy, mouth agape and thin glasses slipping low on his nose as he takes you in, as though it’s the last time he’ll ever get you like this. 

Your sheer stockings have been slipped off, tight pencil skirt bunched at your hips to reveal just how needy you’ve become— Hueningkai could only watch with awe as Taehyun slipped off your lacy panties, a string of your arousal clinging on and leaving a wet spot on the fabric; a tinge of jealousy hit him as Taehyun pocketed the item swiftly, desperate to keep such an intimate part of you with him as well. 

“What, are you just gonna stare like an idiot?” Taehyun asks, startling the youngest out of his daze— his lips press together, adam’s apple bobbing nervously as his eyes flit from your swollen clit, your slit that glistens and leaks slick that dribbles down your hole and onto your sheets— and his eyes flicker back to Taehyun before he can stop and think, watching as the older merely scoffs in disbelief. 

“Oh baby, is this what you were chasing around the whole night?” Taehyun says to you, hovering his lips over yours, pouting mockingly at the way you whine and plead incoherently, “just a dumb pup that doesn’t know the first thing about making a girl feel good?” 

Hueningkai’s face feels like it’s on fire, and it definitely reflects on his skin that glows a brilliant red, eyes widening at the things Taehyun spews about him to you— a determination to prove him wrong fires up within, and before he can second guess himself, he wraps his hands around your thighs and pulls you closer. 

“Mhh, look at that,” Taehyun says, cupping your cheek sweetly, watching as your eyebrows furrow and your mouth falls open to let out a soft moan, “that’s a start.”

Hueningkai’s movements are soft and shaky, so gentle you’d almost miss it if you weren’t so needy— his tongue is warm as it presses against your clit, hesitant before it flicks up and feels the way you twitch; it slowly becomes a steady motion, soft kitten licks that have your cunt clenching around nothing, hips grinding down in search of more. 

“Not enough, huh?” Taehyun practically reads your mind, not having to wait for a response as he reaches down and tangles his fingers roughly into Hueningkai’s hair— he watches as the man jolts, peeking up through his lashes to look at the other in panic; when Taehyun’s grip tightens and pulls on the long locks, his eyes flutter shut and a small groan rumbles in his chest. 

“C’mon,” Taehyun chides, using his grip to guide Hueningkai’s mouth down, watching as his tongue lolls against your hole before pushing him forward, smushing his face firmly into your pussy, “give our angel some more.” 

Hueningkai doesn’t need to be told twice— feeling your entrance clench against his tongue is enough, tasting your cunt that leaks onto him and leaves him intoxicated; he allows his tongue to slip inside, opening your walls and feeling the way you flutter around him, sucking him in and whining for more— Taehyun can only watch with a coy smile, hand continuing to guide Hueningkai’s actions as his nose is pressed against your aching clit, the hitched moan you let out enough to encourage the man between your legs.

“Shit— hah…” you’re a panting, dizzy mess, hands gripping onto the sheets as Hueningkai slowly becomes more eager; nuzzling into your cunt to dig his tongue in further, pretty nose pressed into your clit and hot muscle curling into your walls, feeling the way your thighs shake and tense with his movements— not allowed to pull away either, Taehyun’s firm grip on his hair keeping him pressed against you and moaning into your cunt. 

“Kai…” you slur out, hips jumping at the way he hums against your pussy, attempting to look up though his fogged lenses and failing— the sound of your broken voice enough to have him imagining the flustered expression on your face, cock twitching at the mere thought. 

“Need more…” you plead softly, eyes fluttering shut as his fingertips dig into the plush of your thighs, pushing up and throwing your legs over his broad shoulders, “please, wanna feel your fingers…”

You hear Taehyun let out a chuckle at your request— but you pay it no mind, whining desperately and grinding your hips down in hopes that Hueningkai will listen— and though the loss of his mouth on you has you ready to whine and complain, the feeling of his long fingers pushing in shortly after has all thoughts dying in an instant. 

“Oh my god…” it isn’t just you that’s gasping and moaning in surprise— Hueningkai’s mouth continues to spill curses as he feels your warm walls envelope him, lithe fingers slipping further inside and curling curiously against the spongy spot against his fingertips— feeling you jolt with a sharp cry, he knows he’s discovered something good. 

“Such pretty sounds,” Taehyun mumbles, drinking in your expressions before he’s glancing back down at Hueningkai, “but I know you can be louder for us, baby.”

Hueningkai’s fingers that have begun a steady pace are joined by his plump lips that circle your clit and begin to suck on it harshly— if it hadn’t been for Taehyun, Hueningkai would’ve been content watching your hole soak his digits, a thick ring of cum pooling at his knuckles as he continues to thrust against spots you never thought existed; overwhelmed by the stimulation, you can’t control the way your hips buck and twitch, hands searching for something to ground you— they find themselves intertwined with Taehyun’s soon after, feeling him give your hand a reassuring squeeze and a kiss to the back of it; you think you hear him mumbling soft praise to you, but it’s all lost as Hueningkai’s tongue continues to lap and suck at your clit.

“Tyun, Kai, I’m—” the words die on your tongue, nails digging into Taehyun’s hand as you squeeze your thighs around Hueningkai’s head, “‘m so close!” 

“Just a little more baby,” Taehyun purrs, listening to the way Hueningkai’s pace quickens, fingers pumping into your greedy cunt that squeezes him tighter, “c’mon, you can take it.”

Your eyes are squeezed shut from the pleasure, your orgasm building up to an intensity that leaves you unaware of the way Taehyun observes you carefully, drinking in every furrow of your brows, your trembling lips, the broken sob that leaves you once it all crashes down— your cunt pulses and sucks Hueningkai’s fingers in as you finally cum, a weak cry the only thing you can muster as he continues to help you ride it out, tongue lapping up the release that leaks around his fingers.

“I’ve got you, there you go sweet girl,” Taehyun coos, smiling sweetly at the way you pull him in to bury your face into his chest, clinging onto him for support— his words bringing a broken whimper out of you lips, gasping against the sturdy muscles of his chest as you calm down. 

“Kai, please…” you sob, your cunt well abused by the man’s tongue that continues to lap at you leisurely, already having cleaned his fingers and gone back for more— he’s drunk off you, humming absentmindedly against your cunt before he’s licking a long stripe along your entrance, relishing in the long whine you give him as he flicks his tongue on your clit, “please, no more— ‘m sensitive…”

He’s reluctant, only giving in after Taehyun forcibly grabs his hair and tugs him off— through bleary eyes, you take in his fogged, crooked glasses and low-lidded gaze that continues to stare at your glistening pussy in wonder, slathered in a mixture of his spit and your release— he places a gentle kiss on your cunt, listening to the gasp you let out with a crooked, shy smile. 

“Sorry…” he sighs out, massaging the bruised spots of your thighs, licking his lips absentmindedly before he looks up at you, eyes wide and sparkling with doubt. “D-did… did I do okay…?”

You blink in disbelief; when you’ve gazed into his eyes and confirmed that he’s serious, you throw your head back with soft laughter, shaking your head in disbelief before looking back down at the man between your legs— you take in his flustered expression, unable to hold back the fond smile that creeps on your lips. 

“God, you really…” your leg hooks into his back, heel digging into the firm expanse as you reach down to cup his face, his eyes fluttering shut upon contact; your thumb caresses his cheekbones, reaching to adjust his frames as you sigh. “Drive me crazy. You’re perfect.”

“C’mon angel,” Taehyun coos, cupping your cheek and turning you to look at him— he’s pouting, thumb tracing your bottom lip as he speaks, pulling it down with dark eyes, “don’t forget about me, I’m here too.”

The whimper that leaves your throat is downright pathetic— your cunt clenches, tongue darting out to lick his finger, mouth obediently opening as he pushes it in; your eyes are glazed with desire as you suck on it gently, your free hand reaching up to Taehyun’s shoulder, bringing him down towards you. 

“Tyun, I need you,” you sigh out, pulling him into a soft kiss, lingering against his lips as you speak, “want you to fuck me so bad.”

Your desperate pleas leave the two stunned— Hueningkai can feel his cock twitching desperately against the sheets, watching with wide eyes as you squirm shyly, flustering at the filth that Taehyun whispers in your ear.

“Such a greedy thing,” Taehyun purrs, grinning at the way you melt immediately at his words, “was Hueningkai’s mouth not enough for you? Not satisfied?”

“N-no, that’s not true,” you interject quickly, glancing down at the man between your legs that continues to stare up at you with wide, shining eyes— then you look back at Taehyun, heating up under his condescending gaze, “just want more— wanna feel your cock, please…” 

“Yeah? Want me to show you what you’ve been missing?” he murmurs, leaning down to plant kisses against your jaw, chuckling softly at your eager nods, “want me to fuck you good in front of our intern? Show him how it’s done?” 

“Yes— please, yes—” you breathe out, mewling at the soft sucks and bites he gives you, “fuck me, I need it, want it s’bad— ah!” 

Taehyun’s teeth are sharp as they sink into the juncture of your neck, a loud keen escaping you as your back arches from the stinging sensation— his tongue is quick to soothe against it, his hand that was previously tightened against the youngest’s hair falling possessively against your waist, his glare lethal as his eyes lock with Hueningkai’s.

“You heard her,” he grumbles, coy smile tugging at his lips as he nods over to the chair that’s placed by the window, “now be a good boy and go watch over there.”

Taehyun’s jealous streak is alive and well; Hueningkai is happily resigned to sit back and watch as Taehyun kneels between your legs, heavy cock leaking against your pussy as he ruts his cockhead against your clit, the two of you too lost in each other’s lips to do anything about it— he watches with furrowed brows as you whine and mewl at the stimulation, hips jumping with need every time his tip teases your entrance; catching on it, just enough to slip in for a moment before it slips out again. 

The noise that leaves your mouth when Taehyun finally enters you has Hueningkai closing his eyes and trying his best to not cum on the spot— his hand that had previously been wrapped around his weeping cock is still, squeezing his base as he watches Taehyun stretch you out slowly— your teary eyes jump from Taehyun’s face to Hueningkai’s, mouth falling open to let out another pretty moan as Taehyun bottoms out inside you, hips glued to yours. 

“Shit… you’re so tight,” Taehyun groans, throwing his head back at your wet walls that continue to flutter around him, trying to suck him in deeper; looking back down at you, he smiles, taking in your wandering eyes as he glances over at your point of interest. 

“You enjoying this?” he teases, thrusting his hips shallowly to pull another whine out of you, feeling the way you clench even tighter around him, “like having him watch you like this?”

“Yes, nngh, fuck—!” you gasp, words stuck in your throat as Taehyun slowly pulls out of you, until his leaking tip is the only thing your cunt can ache around— you jump as he bottoms out in you with one harsh, swift thrust; when your glistening eyes meet Taehyun’s, you’re met with that familiar, dangerous glint in his shining pupils. 

“Then be a good girl and show him how good you feel.” 

Your mind is nothing but a melted puddle in your head; your eyes have rolled to the back of your skull, mouth fallen open as you lay there and let Taehyun use you just how he wants— thick cock battering into your walls harshly, calloused hands holding onto your waist to keep you close, hips angled up so he can fuck into you better— it’s so good, you’ve never been fucked like this before, nothing but a pretty doll for Taehyun to use in order to reach his peak, brows knitted and eyes zoned in on every expression you make, cock twitching at every moan and cry of his name. 

God, all this time working together in the office, yet you never took note of Taehyun’s physique; his suit always tailored to perfection, just enough to fit but not enough to show what was hiding underneath— you’re stuck in a trance as you watch the way his stomach clenches with every thrust, abs glistening from the sweat that runs down his body, your legs wrapping around his small waist to pull you closer; his body feels so firm under your hands, grabbing onto his biceps and crying at the way he fucks you into the mattress, his quiet, deep voice murmuring filth into your ears as he angles his cock just right, finding your sweet spot with ease— listening to the way you squeal and press your hands against his chest, gasping that it’s too much; when you feel him smile against your lips, you know you’ve fucked up. 

“Too much?” he mocks, slowing his pace, listening to the way you whine— only to shudder and tuck your face into his neck, pussy clenching at the way he’s bottomed out inside you, rolling his hips so slowly and deeply— pressing you further into the bed, chest pressing against yours and trapping you under him as he huffs, “we can’t stop now, baby— Hueningie’s enjoying the show too much.”

Like clockwork, you glance over Taehyun’s shoulder and at the man who remains seated, watching— and Taehyun can feel the way you gush around him, pussy so slick and stuffed that you have no other choice but to let it leak out and soil your sheets— because really, the sight is to die for. 

His tie has been loosened, his blazer shrugged off— his shirt is unbuttoned halfway, heaving chest peeking out and glistening with sweat— his hair is ruffled, glasses hanging low on his nose, and when your eyes meet his, you feel trapped; he’s entirely fucked out, his neediness conveyed with a single glance— when your eyes begin to wander back down, you can’t help the whine that leaves your swollen lips. 

“Hyuka,” you cry, fingers digging into Taehyun’s shoulders as he continues to fuck you deep, holding onto your thigh to keep you close; you can’t keep your eyes off the way Hueningkai continues to fuck into his fist, matching the rhythm as slick sounds emit from the cum that leaks out of his needy tip, droplets falling onto his hands that continue to grip tightly around his length— you watch as he swipes a thumb over the slit of his cockhead, a whimper falling from your lips at the way his hips buck and his cock twitches; you think your mouth started watering.

“Greedy girl,” Taehyun chides, propping himself up on his elbows, taking your chin in his hands and forcing you to turn back to look at him— your eyes glisten as they meet his harsh gaze, stomach flipping at the intensity as he tuts disappointedly at you. 

“Drooling over him while I’m here,” he punctuates his words with a calculated thrust to your sweet spot, listening to the choked moan you let out with a satisfied smile, “fucking you this good.”

“‘m sorry,” you mumble breathlessly, fingers digging into his back, feeling another orgasm beginning to build up, “‘m sorry Tyunnie, please don’t stop— please, I’m so close…”

Listening to your mindless rambles, he lets out a breathy chuckle— only to grab your thighs, bringing them up and throwing them over his shoulders, watching the way you melt at the new angle— and he lets out a soft groan, feeling his own high approaching with the way you continue to clench around him so tightly. 

“Yeah, that’s right,” he breathes out, hands that were holding onto your thighs now bringing them down toward your chest, practically folding you as your eyes roll back, mouth falling open as he presses his weight against you, thick cock bottoming out and reaching in deep, hitting the spots that make you gasp and yelp— he’s leaning down to press his weight against you, pushing you into the mattress as he rolls his hips and angles himself to hit your sweet spot; his hand leaves your thigh, reaching down to circle your clit, and you shudder with a broken cry, “got you falling apart on my cock— fuck, and you’re still looking over at him.” 

“I’m close,” you gasp, hands reaching for his shoulders, nails digging into his skin and leaving marks, “oh my god, I’m so close, please, just like that—”

“Gonna cum?” he whispers, the mischief in his tone lost on you as you nod, “tell me how sorry you are. Maybe then I’ll let you cum.”

You’re snapped out of your daze the moment you feel everything stop— his cock pressed deep into you, his fingers that lay still on your clit, the weight of his body heavy as you look into his eyes, only to be met with his heated, expectant stare.

“‘m sorry…” you mutter meekly, cunt clenching and gushing around his thick length desperately, only to be met with his low grumble that asks you for what?  “‘m sorry for ignoring you— sorry for making you wait—” 

“Should be sorry,” Taehyun interrupts with a breathy laugh, throwing your head back at the way he begins to thrust into you again, deep and agonizingly slow, “took forever to finally get you like this— and now I have to fight for your attention?”

Hueningkai watches you shake your head fervently, in awe as you roll your hips against Taehyun’s, desperate for more— his cock pulses in his hand, slick with cum that continues to leak, eyes wide behind his glasses in fear of missing anything— he watches you react instantly to Taehyun’s motions, his hand circling your clit roughly as he begins to pound into you again, your body bouncing from the weight of each thrust, punching out moans from you.

“You really wanna cum that bad?” Taehyun mocks, feeling the way your cunt clenches around him— he looks down at where his cock disappears inside you, shining from your arousal, the wet squelching that comes with every thrust enough to have you heating up from embarrassment; but Taehyun thinks otherwise, etching the sight into his mind as his cock twitches and aches for more— your breathy voice that slurs out pleas is the only thing that breaks him from his trance. 

“Tell me who’s making you feel so good,” he growls, feeling his climax creeping up on him, mean thrusts turning sloppy, “c’mon baby, lemme hear you.”

“It’s you— fuck, ngh— fucking me so good, ah!” your stomach tightens, feeling Taehyun’s large hands splay over it, pressing down and making you feel his length that continues to fuck into you— his thumb is persistent on your clit, your body growing restless from the stimulation, “god, love your cock— you’re so good, wanna cum, need you to cum—!”

Your pleas have Taehyun closing his eyes with a hissed out curse, concentrating on making you cum before him— Hueningkai can only watch from his spot, gulping thickly as he takes everything in; your nails that dig into Taehyun’s shoulders, trembling hands slipping and running down his muscled back, leaving bright red marks in their wake— Taehyun’s cock that continues to ram into you, picking up his pace and pressing you further into the bed as you cry and whine that you’re close, face screwed up in pleasure— Hueningkai has to stop his own motions all together, biting down on his lip at the ebbing pain of his denied orgasm; his eyes flicker between your face and your pussy, both sights equally entrancing as he listens to your peak approach. 

“I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna—!” you whine, words lost on your tongue as you bury your face into Taehyun’s chest— your words are muffled, but they still reach Taehyun’s ears, “please cum inside me, want you to fill me up, please please please—”

“Fuck,” Taehyun hisses sharply, feeling you crash down with a loud moan, cunt creaming around him, “fuck, such a good girl— gonna fill you up, make you mine, pump you full of my cum—”

Taehyun’s hips have a mind of his own as he rides out his high, hand on your stomach continuing to press down even after you’ve begun to cry from the sensitivity, thick cum pumping inside you until it can no longer stay inside— you can only lay there and take everything Taehyun gives you as he calms down, hips coming to a stop as they press flush against yours; right when he thinks his arms might give out on him, he sits back, looking at your spent, sweating body with a triumphant smile. 

“So pretty,” he coos, caressing your face lovingly, watching you nuzzle into his palm with a tired sigh, “tired?”

“Mh-hmm,” you say softly, looking as though you might doze off any second now— you flinch at the sensation of Taehyun pulling out, the said man watching with hungry eyes as his cum slowly begins to pool out of your fluttering hole; he looks back up at you, tutting softly as he gives your cheek a playful pat. 

“That’s too bad,” he hums, your eyes fluttering open just enough to see him get off the bed, nodding over to where Hueningkai remains, “cause you’re not done yet.”

You whine, legs closing and thighs rubbing together nervously, but Taehyun is having none of it as he scoffs mockingly. 

“What happened to our greedy girl?” he asks, your stomach flipping at his words, “our little intern here hasn’t had his turn with you yet— I’m sure he can’t wait to show you what he learned.”

“Right, Kai?”

The exhaustion from your previous orgasm seems to have gotten to you— because with a mere blink of your eyes, you find Hueningkai hovering above you, gazing through bleary eyes as he begins to unbutton his shirt, staring at you with a desperation more intense than before; his hands are deft as they unbutton his pants, pulling them off with a swift motion and feeling your eyes immediately fall onto his weeping, blushing cock—  you’re quiet, allowing him to loom over you and pry your thighs apart, situating himself between them until his cock is resting over your mound, leaking and twitching against your stomach; you think you see him gulp, eyes running over your spent body as he clears his throat softly. 

“Do you think you can take more?” he quietly asks, hesitant to do anything yet unable to stop the way his cocks ruts softly against the softness of your stomach, “we can stop if you want us to.”

Immediately, you shake your head no— your hand reaches down to where his cock rests, feeling his breath hitch as your fingers trace around his cockhead, pressing into his slit— his eyes are wide as they meet yours, melting at the pout you give him. 

“No, wanna feel you,” you say, taking a hold of his length, slapping it against your stomach to watch the way it sticks, “want you to fill me up with your cum.”

His lips press together in shock, a broken whimper creeping out his throat— he’s trying his hardest not to cum, your mere touch enough to have him close. Pulling away— somewhat reluctantly— from your hold, he grabs his cock and lines it up with your sopping entrance; the sight of it leaking with Teahyun’s cum has his cock twitching in his hand, pressing it carefully against your fluttering hole. 

“Shit, you’re so warm…” he groans, watching his thick tip push slowly into you, the mixture of release coating his length as he eases himself inside— soft walls pulse around him, cum seeping out your entrance and coating his pelvis that remains pressed flush to yours; he watches your eyes widen and turn blank, a sharp gasp falling from you the moment he bottoms out. 

“Oh— you’re so…” words fall short, feeling his cock twitch inside you, his tip nudging against the deepest spots you never knew were there— you think you might feel him against your cervix, the stretch and length of him leaving your mind empty— “fuck… Kai… you’re so big…” 

The words have him shivering— his chest is flushing from all the attention, only able to stare down at you in awe as he feels your cunt adjust to his size; sensing his unsurety, you roll your hips against his and send him your signature, pleading look. 

“Kai, please,” you moan, reaching up to grab his hands and placing them on your hips, “just use me— just wanna make you feel good.”

The phrase just use me has Hueningkai’s brain short-circuiting; with one last look at you— your sweaty, spent body, thighs shining with slick and eyes fluttering with the last bit of coherency you have— he groans, fingers digging into your waist and pulling you right into him; the yelp you let out at feeling him nudge into you cervix falls on deaf ears, and Hueningkai allows himself to get lost in your dripping cunt. 

His hips snap into you, thick cock slamming into your sensitive, used walls— you can merely cry and wail as you allow him to chase his pleasure, teary eyes taking in his dark eyes that remain glued to your cunt, watching himself disappear inside you; thick, creamy ring forming around his length, the wet sounds that come from your cunt and the weak clenches you give him with every  thrust— it’s intoxicating, so much that he hasn’t realized how loud his moans and grunts have become. 

“Y-you’re… so beautiful…” he whines, grabbing your hips and raising them into the air, just so he can have easier access to you— snapping his hips harsher into you, deep and cruel as he finds your sweet spot with an accidental, sloppy spot; listening to you keen and scramble to grab the sheets, his eyes narrow in concentration to find it again— and when he finally does, he doesn’t let up. 

“Kai, kai kai—” you whine out, tears pricking your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure; your brain is fogged and your cunt can only let itself be abused, squelching and leaking even more cum that dribbles down your ass and onto the sheets; it's a filthy, pathetic mess, and you feel Taehyun’s amused gaze on the two of you all the while, “Kai, please— agh, it’s too much!”

But even if the overstimulation has your body on fire, the last thing you want is for him to stop— Hueningkai seems to be on the same page as you, merely groaning at the tears that slip from your eyes, leaning down to hover over you and press you into the mattress, just as Taehyun had done before— carefully, he reaches out to cup your face, thumb wiping the tears from your eyes away. He leans down to give you a brief, sloppy kiss, pulling away to pant against your mouth. 

“‘m sorry, sorry baby,” he weakly says, out of breath as he continues to rut his cock into you wildly, “please, just a bit more— just give me a little more, ‘m so close, c’mon.”

With every wail and mewl you give him, a soft apology is whispered against your skin— plump lips kissing your tears away, burrowing his head into your neck as he murmurs that he can’t stop, sorry— his hands gripping onto your hips to ensure that you don’t squirm away from him, even if he continues to abuse your most sensitive spots. 

The line between pleasure and pain has blurred long ago, leaving you a sobbing, babbling mess as you continue to let Hueningkai use you, the man pressing his body against yours and successfully trapping you beneath him; your nipples rub against his firm chest, hands clawing at his broad shoulders, leaving marks with every harsh thrust that sends you reeling. He’s big in every sense of the word— overpowering you, covering your sight with his body and keeping you in whatever position he’d like with his mere hands— his grip is steady on your waist, making sure to keep you as close to his hips as possible, whether it be by angling your body differently or using his strength as leverage to fuck you against him— a little toy for him to use, your body nothing but a means to get him to cum. 

“Ah, your pussy’s so good,” he groans, looking down between your legs, curiosity getting the best of him as he reaches down to feel against your stomach, brows furrowing at the bulge he feels— then he presses down, the pressure making your breath hitch. “you’re sucking me in so good— you’re so tight, ‘m sorry, I just can’t get enough of you—”

“Kai” is all you can cry out, thighs beginning to twitch and your hips jumping with shocks of overstimulation, “Kai, hurts, can’t take it…” 

“Yes you can,” Taehyun speaks up, seeing through your lies with an amused smile, “c’mon angel, just a little more— don’t you wanna feel good? Hmm? Wanna feel him fill you up?” 

You whimper, unable to respond— his hand that was previously feeling the way his cock slipped in and out of you through your stomach wandered down, finding your clit and beginning to massage it gently; feeling you clamp down on him, Hueningkai moans, his high beginning to approach dangerously. 

“Just be a good girl and let him use you a little longer,” Taehyun says, watching fondly as your face twists with concentration, trying your best to keep up with the man that continues to abuse your cunt, “that’s it— just a little more…”

“‘m so close,” Hueningkai breathes out, thrusts becoming sloppy and his fingers on your clit becoming frantic, “can you give me one more? Wanna feel you cum on my cock, please baby.”

“Mhh, ‘s too much—” you gasp, a sudden pleasure beginning to seize your body, back arching and hips rolling in search of it— Hueningkai sees it immediately, putting in his last efforts to ram into your sweet spot, sweat running down his neck as he concentrates to not cum before you, “wait— wait, think ‘m gonna—!” 

Your peak crashes onto you unexpectedly, a rush of strength making you pull Hueningkai down as you bury your face into his neck, legs wrapping around his waist, cunt throbbing and tightening around his cock; Hueningkai is following immediately after, a long, broken whine leaving his lips as he lets his hips lose rhythm, rutting and pressing as deep as they can; hot, thick ropes of cum fill your already stuffed pussy, but the man above you is stubborn as he continues to fuck it back into you, fingers collecting anything that slips out and pushing it back in alongside his cock— the sensation has you gasping and clawing at his back. 

“Alright you two, that’s enough,” Taehyun’s firm voice is startling as Hueningkai jumps away from you, cock still buried inside as he finally takes in your broken state with wide, bewildered eyes— when he looks over at Taehyun, the elder merely chuckles. 

“She’s fine,” he says, cupping your cheek and leaning down to give you a chaste kiss, smiling at the way you blindly chase his lips, “she’ll be sore tomorrow, but she’ll be okay.”

Gesturing for Hueningkai to pick you up, he nods over to your bathroom down the hall. 

“C’mon, let's go clean up,” two of you— or rather, Hueningkai, with you limp in his hold— follow diligently, and a part of you wonders if the moment will come where the three of you address this strange dynamic. 

But with the way these two act so unphased, you think you might know what the answer might be. 

 ◦◦◦ 

“You barely touched your lunch today,” Taehyun frowns, slipping your jacket on for you as you prepare to leave the empty office, the said lunchbox in your hand and your bag in the other, “was Hueningkai’s cooking that bad?” 

“Hey, of course it wasn’t,” you scold, smacking his chest, ignoring the way his eyes darken at the action— you glance behind you and at the said man that’s just finished shutting down his computer, slipping his blazer back on and looking up at where the two of you wait— the smile he sends you is innocent, making your stomach twinge with guilt at Taehyun’s comment, “I was just so worried about the presentation this Friday, I guess I just lost my appetite.”

“My poor baby,” Taehyun pouts, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in for a gentle kiss, “you’ve been working so hard this past month, I’m sure it’s gonna turn out great.”

“What happened?” Hueningkai is last to arrive at the scene, taking in the furrow of your brows with a worried frown. “Everything okay?”

“No, you’re starving our baby here because of your terrible cooking,” Taehyun chides, breaking into a grin as you gasp and hit his chest once more, “she barely touched the lunch you gave her.”

“That’s not true!” you gape, escaping Taehyun’s hold to run over to him, “oh my god, don’t listen to him!” 

“Was it really that bad?” he pouts down at you, puppy eyes glistening as he listens to you stutter through your explanation, placing gentle hands on your hips, “I woke up extra early this morning to make it for you.”

“Kai, of course not,” you stress, cupping his face and peppering kisses all over it— the tip of his nose, his cheekbones, his cupid’s bow— completely unaware of the way the two fight back mischievous smiles, “I love your cooking— I love you, love that you’re so sweet and make me lunch.”

“Then, how come you didn’t finish it?” Taehyun asks, sneaking up behind you to wrap his arms around your middle, placing his head on your shoulder, “so ungrateful… maybe we need to teach you a lesson, hmm?”

He places a soft kiss on your jaw, feeling you tense the moment you catch on to their scheme— you glance up at Hueningkai for help, only to find him staring back at you with unforgiving, sulky puppy eyes. 

“I think we should,” Hueningkai agrees, bottom lip jutting out cutely as Taehyun continues to kiss and nip at your neck, “you’re so mean, honey.”

Your mouth falls open in shock, unable to do anything but let the two men grab your hands and lead you out— their discussion on who’s place to go to doesn't process in your mind, and all you can think is that you fell into their trap, good. 

“Oh, you guys are so…” you mumble, still speechless as they turn to look at you— you turn from Taehyun’s dark, teasing gaze to Hueningkai’s playful one, shaking your head in disbelief, “terrible.”

You can’t help but think back to a few months ago— Huenignkai’s shy, flustered personality, Taehyun’s hopelessness and his silent jealousy— and you can’t help but wonder what monsters you’ve turned your boys into.

Hueningkai reaches to give your hip a loving squeeze— Taehyun chuckles, bringing your hand up so he can give it a kiss. “Save it for the bedroom, love.”

Oh, you’re in for a long night. 

[wonderjanga]

Kid Marvel

Freddy was having a pretty good day. He’d been wandering around Fawcett because he was bored. Though, that was normal. He was always bored whenever he wasn’t in his Marvel form or when he wasn’t with Billy. He passed by an alley when he saw something glinting from the trash. He walked over and knelt down to see what it was. Lo and behold it was a camera! He wondered if it still worked. So, he went and showed it to Billy cause Billy was his bestie. Thats what people call their closest friends nowadays, right?

Together, they ventured to a camera shop, the only one in the town actually.

Billy: “Mister, can you see if this camera we found still works?” *puts it on the store counter*

Store Clerk: “Of course, boys!” *picks it up to inspect it* “How’d you both just find this thing?”

Freddy: *shrugs* “I dunno. It was in the trash so I grabbed it.”

Store Clerk: “Well, it was a good find. It seems all good. Why don’t you two have some film? I’ll discount it?”

Billy and Freddy: *share a look* “Sure! Thanks!”

Thats how they spent the rest of the day fooling around, taking photos with it of random objects. When they were on their last piece of film…

Freddy: “Wanna try something?” *looking at Billy through the camera lense*

Billy: “Sure? What is it?”

Freddy: *gestures for him to move next to him* “So, you know how I joined the Titans?”

Billy: “Yeah?”

Freddy: “Well, Impulse was talking about a selfie? And I was like what is that? And he was like it’s when you take your phone-”

Billy: “Like… A rotary phone?”

Freddy: “No, phones are weird nowadays. They’re now these little boxes that can also take photos. Anyways, so he said it was when you point the camera this way.” *turns the camera to face them* “And smile!” *smiles*

Billy: *confused but smiles anyways*

Freddy: *takes the photo*

Billy: “So it’s just a photo of us?”

Freddy: “Yup!” *grabs the photo as it comes out* “It’s gonna look awesome! Trust me!”

The two both cherished the photo but Freddy is the one who kept it was Freddy. Freddy was one day looking at the photo in the Titan’s tower.

Junior: *looking at the photo*

Impulse: *speds behind him* “Who’s that?” *points to Billy*

Junior: “Thats uhm… Marvel?” *doesn’t really know where he’s going with this*

Impulse: *sounds surprised* “Marvel? That’s Cap? Who’s the dude next to him?” *points to Freddy*

Junior: “That’s uh… Freddy.” *still doesn’t know where he’s going with this*

Impulse: “Huh. You know, you look more like that guy than Cap.”

Junior: “Well, I mean, me and Freddy are technically related.” *

Impulse: “What…? Is he your dad?? But I thought Cap was your dad???”

Junior: *sounds horrified* “What made you think that? Also, Freddy isn’t my dad!”

Later…

Flash: *trying to sound inconspicuous* “Sooooo… Cap, Junior told Impulse who told me about one of your friends.” *extremely curious*

Marvel: “Which one?”

Flash: “Freddy, I think his name was?”

Marvel: *pauses whatever he’s doing to slowly looks over to him with the most horrified expression*

Flash: *notices his horrification and is worried now* “Did something uh- happen to him?”

Marvel: “No, I’m still friends with him till this day.”

Flash: “Oh, phew.” *relaxes slightly* “The expression you gave us made me think he died or something.”

Marvel: “No…? He’s still kicking.”

[starcurtain]

A Look at Ratio and Aventurine... and Ratio/Aventurine

I was morally obligated to use this picture.

Anyway, I got an ask about my understanding of Ratio and Aventurine's relationship both in canon and as a ship that I have been holding on to for a while now because... phew, there's like... a lot to talk about there... But I felt I should at least give it a try, so here is my attempt to comment on the intersection of two of Star Rail's most complicated personalities. Long post is longgggg; you have been warned.

First, Aventurine's canon relationship to Ratio:

In the interest of not hitting tumblr's image limit, let's just throw out some of the information we have in one go:

It's pretty complimentary. (Yet somehow...)

The implication of the infamous "Keeping Up with Star Rail" video is that Ratio understands Aventurine better than anyone else, and Aventurine knows this. At the very least, putting all shipping aside, Ratio is the person who can explain Aventurine's behaviors best. He's the person Aventurine chooses do so. This suggests significantly more knowledge of each other's lives than the game first led us to believe.

Other people (read as: my GOAT Owlbert) perceive respect from Aventurine to Ratio, and although I read them as a bit sarcastic, the 2.1 mission logs not only repeatedly confirm that Aventurine views Ratio as smart and reliable, but that Ratio is reliable "as always," again indicating a longer and closer history of collaboration than we get to actively see in game. The devs were working hard to tell us "Penacony isn't Ratiorine's first rodeo," which is interesting--given Topaz's voiceline recommending the Trailblazer avoid working with Aventurine whenever possible, we're led to believe through 2.0 and 2.1 that not many people will willingly work with Aventurine more than once, let alone many times.

While going through psychological scrutiny from the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come his Harmony-infused self, the "Future" Aventurine suggests that Ratio and Aventurine are quite similar, and that Aventurine puts a surprising amount of trust in Ratio, to be willing to hinge such a dangerous plan on something as untested as Ratio's ability to act. At the very least, Aventurine's own psyche is pondering on Ratio and whether or not their connection has any emotional meaning.

But despite all this evidence suggesting Ratio and Aventurine spend significantly more time with each other than we get to see in game, Aventurine's own thoughts cast strong doubt on whether he and Ratio are actually close.

Aventurine's "About Dr. Ratio" voice line suggests that Aventurine believes Ratio does not particularly like him. He seems to think that Ratio would prefer to stay away from IPC operations where possible, and it's "unfortunate" for Ratio to be stuck with Aventurine as a conversation partner. He's tolerated, rather than enjoyed. His overall impression seems to be that Ratio mostly views them as distant coworkers.

When the "Future" Aventurine suggests Ratio did not betray Aventurine willingly, actual Aventurine immediately pushes back:

(Personally I'm on the fence about whether this was real doubt or just a ploy to continue sussing out Sunday; see my other post about this scene for some more thoughts.)

But if we take this statement to be played straight, it implies that Aventurine doesn't fully believe Ratio will side with him, even (maybe especially) in dire circumstances. If this statement is real doubt, then despite considering Ratio the person who best understands him, despite building an entire life or death gamble around Ratio's loyalty... Aventurine still doesn't think Ratio even likes him.

Aventurine's not stupid or blind, so theoretically he should be able to read the situation better than that. But actually, there's plenty of evidence both in the game and outside it to suggest that Aventurine is not the most accurate judge of his own relationships to others and is a down-right terrible judge of his own worth as a person.

"Future" Aventurine suggests that one of Aventurine's deep inner flaws--the truths that he rejects about himself--is a massive inferiority complex. This is backed up well by the mission text, where Aventurine's thoughts about himself spiral into self-harm, and the scene in the maze, where "Future" Aventurine taunts our Aventurine with the unforgettable fact that his entire life was only worth pennies:

There's also pretty consistent self-deprecation, with both "Future" and real Aventurine noting several times that he's a pathetic mess of a person that other people don't trust or like.

The overall impression 2.0-2.1 left me with is that Aventurine is perfectly capable of respecting and caring for others, but virtually incapable of accepting other people genuinely respecting and caring for him.

Part of this seems to stem from the directly-stated sense that he's a failure whose only worth is in transactional exchanges, using and being used by others (there's so many layers to this--internalized racism even), but I also suspect that much of his inability to accept genuine connection from others is defensive behavior.

Aventurine's true self, Kakavasha, is deeply hidden away, like the ghost of the child that manifests from his Harmony delusion in the Dreamscape. Although Aventurine clings to that person, claiming that he has "never changed," he actively coats over his beliefs, his kindness, and his authenticity with the mask of a "cavalier gambler," with glitz and glamor and showy distractions. No one gets to see Kakavasha. No one gets to know him, because being buried deep in the dirt is the only way to remain untouchable, and fiercely keeping one's distance is the only safe bet. (For both Kakavasha and any fools who would doom themselves by daring to care for him.)

So: Canon is telling us that Ratio is one of, if not the, closest people in the world to Aventurine. But canon is also telling us that that still means absolutely nothing at all, because Aventurine won't let himself be close to anyone living.

Aventurine's senses of self-worth, trust, attachment, and safety have been warped so badly by ongoing and untreated trauma and mental health issues that, at least until the end of 2.1, I just don't think he was capable of even accepting genuine friendship from Ratio, let alone anything more.

(Interesting side note here: Ratio is actually one of the people Aventurine calls "my friend" the least. He only says it directly to Ratio a single time in all of their lines of dialogue across 2.0 and 2.1, and even then, does so only when right outside Sunday's door, while almost certainly being spied upon by the Family. Anyone who knows how often "my friend" is peppered into Aventurine's dialogue otherwise should know that the absence of the phrase is actually pretty telling. It almost feels like canon Aventurine's not even sure he can call Ratio his friend, at least to Ratio's face.)

Which makes Ratio's canon relationship to Aventurine quite sad and ironic:

From start to finish, Ratio canonically esteems Aventurine more highly than almost any other character in the game. I'm not even talking about shipping when I say that there is no character Ratio is closer to in the entire game.

At present, Ratio has only four voice lines about other characters, and of those four, Aventurine's is the only one that isn't someone from the Genius Society. The only one. Ratio's voice lines are also notably, uh, not very complimentary. Herta is "talented but not helpful to others" and "sees no one as her equal" (read as: she's self-absorbed). Screwllum is a "monarch, rather than a genius" (with the vague implications of being a tyrant), and Ruan Mei is overly ambitious and "fooling everyone."

Meanwhile, Aventurine is "our man" (who is "our" Ratio? who?) whose success "can't all be chalked up to luck," implying that part of Aventurine's success must come from skill. Ratio notes that Aventurine questions his own ability... but as far as Ratio's evaluation goes, he seems to doubt that Aventurine will ever experience a downfall. For someone who thinks 99% of the people he meets are mediocre failures scrambling around in the filth of existence, to be recognized as skilled and unlikely to fail is quite obviously glowing praise.

Then, of course, there are numerous moments that echo Aventurine's hints, implying that Ratio spends significantly more time with Aventurine than we see on-screen, that he knows Aventurine extremely well, and, although he tries (vainly) to pretend he isn't, he's clearly quite concerned with what Aventurine thinks of him.

Especially this last one. "No wonder that gambler likes you so much" is pretty intentional on the devs' part, confirming that Ratio and Aventurine are having off-screen conversations we players are not privy to, which obviously would indicate a closer relationship than the in-game cutscenes could cover.

Then, Trailblazer has the option to flat out ask Ratio to "rate" Aventurine. (Star Rail ship bait is not even subtle.)

At first, this line might read as all over the place:

"The bosses say we're partners but I wouldn't say that" -> Read as: Ratio wants people to know how their relationship is classified but doesn't want to admit to being actually invested.

"I see myself as the teacher to everyone I meet" -> Read as: Ratio at least pretends that he doesn't view anyone as his equal; everyone is either above him--geniuses--or below him--students.

"Aventurine is not that bad of a student" -> High praise; even Ratio can't pretend Aventurine's untalented.

"Actually, Aventurine's probably in metaphysical danger" -> Read as: Ratio is aware of the "void" Aventurine is experiencing and his mental struggles.

The ultimate takeaway of Ratio's "rating" actually says more about Ratio than Aventurine. When it comes down to it, Ratio's choice to answer this question for the Trailblazer instead of dismiss it tells us that Ratio has spent time quantifying and trying to define his relationship with Aventurine, is willing to at least discuss that relationship with other people (when we have no evidence he ever discusses any other personal/non-academic matters with anyone), and that Ratio pays attention to Aventurine's mental states.

Canon Ratio is not beating the allegations, I'm afraid.

But actually, I think the biggest tell about Ratio's canon relationship to Aventurine is that Ratio's behavior completely changes the moment Aventurine appears in the game.

In every single one of Ratio's other appearances, two facts are hammered home again and again:

First, Ratio hates interacting with fools and "noisy" people. He wears his plaster bust so that he doesn't even have to see them. Canonically, we're informed by both March 7th and Argenti that Ratio brought and was wearing his headpiece in Penacony. Curiously though...

The players never see it throughout 2.X--probably because 90% of Ratio's scenes are with Aventurine, and Ratio is never shown wearing his bust on screen with Aventurine--even in their very first meeting in the Final Victor lightcone. Aventurine clearly knows of the bust, but despite Ratio verbally going on and on about how Aventurine is the most "flashy" and "devoid of logic" person Ratio knows... the devs deliberately send their message: Ratio has chosen not to cut himself off from Aventurine.

Aventurine can be more "clamorous" than a screaming peacock, but Ratio will still not put up walls against him. This isn't accidental. The devs had every opportunity in the world to go the opposite route and make jokes about Ratio refusing to take the bust off in Aventurine's obnoxious presence; instead they decided that Ratio apparently has a glaring, Aventurine-shaped exception to his "I don't want to perceive you fools or be perceived by you" life rule.

This "willing to tolerate shenanigans only if Aventurine is involved" behavior continues basically throughout all of Penacony's plot. In 2.3 for example, if you turn around and talk to Ratio again on the Radiant Feldspar, he flat out says:

But there's no actual explanation for why he's there in the first place. He mentions he was assigned to watch over "the IPC's ambassadors," which theoretically should apply to Jade and Topaz, yet we never see him interacting with them in any capacity. He's never even shown in the same room as Jade or Topaz, and he's not shown doing any other form of business for the IPC on the Feldspar either. Theoretically, he could have been on the Feldspar to meet regarding the Divergent Universe... except Screwllum wasn't there yet, and Ratio doesn't mention a single word about the Divergent Universe to the Trailblazer.

The only person Ratio talks about in his dialogue on the Feldspar is Aventurine, and the only non-Trailblazer he talks to in 2.3 at all is also Aventurine, replying to him and only him in the group chat.

He looked like he might give it a shot to try to befriend Boothill and Argenti at the end of 2.3... but immediately changes his mind and leaves without saying a word to them.

It's not really a stretch to suggest that the only reasonable excuse for Ratio to attend the party on the Feldspar was if he was there for Aventurine, a behavior that he himself notes is out of character. ("A waste of time" he says, as he stands there anyway.)

But, second and even more importantly: Ratio's single most defining character trait is that he believes people need to pick themselves up. The entire point of his debut appearance in the game was to present his philosophy that if the powerful or privileged intervene to continually "save" the mediocre, ordinary people will never learn for themselves or get the chance to grow. It is in times of desperation, he says, that fools exceed their limits and reach greatness.

This is why, in 1.6, he insisted on Asta and the Trailblazer being the ones to solve the attacks happening on the space station, without relying on Screwllum or the other geniuses. Although Ratio did actively intervene a little (using the phase flame to save the researchers from death), he did so only from behind the scenes, where his actual help would not be noticed by those affected and where it had no impact on their decision-making or their struggles to solve the mystery.

He let Asta and the Trailblazer panic. He let them flounder. He even deliberately misled them at points, claiming that Duke Inferno must have kidnapped the researchers (when it was actually Ratio himself who re-routed them).

Ultimately, Ratio let Asta and the Trailblazer grow from their experiences.

This is also why he lets the Trailblazer go blazing in to fight Ruan Mei's faux emanator of the propagation, despite knowing that Trailblazer was not actually strong enough to win. Ratio watched and was ready to intervene... but in the end he did not, because it was the Trailblazer's fight to lose.

Ratio's most defining character trait is that he believes standing back and observing is the true kindness, rather than inserting oneself and denying people their autonomy or opportunities to grow.

Buttttt... then there's Aventurine, and suddenly the story is completely different.

Suddenly, Ratio isn't an observer but becomes essential to the plan. He's even walking around making big claims about being the manager of the task, flexing all of his C+ acting ability to actively carry out their mutual ploy.

In 2.3, he claims he was just there to watch, and his Penacony sticker asserts he's only "a supporting character"--yet we have never seen Ratio take a more active role in the entire game. Unlike with the Trailblazer in 1.6, he's not primarily watching events unfold from shadowy corners. He's in Penacony as Aventurine's active partner in crime.

And, even more telling--he later jeopardizes their entire mission just to ask if Aventurine needs help.

What? Huh? The character who is famous for the voice line "You look distressed. Is something troubling you? If so, you can figure it out for yourself" is suddenly offering his assistance entirely unprompted?

The guy whose motto might as well be:

Is suddenly out here throwing his own core philosophy out the window to solve Penacony's mystery for Aventurine and save him from himself in Aventurine's hour of greatest need?

A lot of people get hung up on the second half of Ratio's letter, the part about staying alive, which of course is very sweet. But I think the second half causes people to forget that the first part of Ratio's letter is, quite literally, the answer to Penacony's mystery.

Ratio gave Aventurine the answer.

This is like if your professor just gave you and you alone the score key to the final exam and then turned around to insist he "doesn't play favorites."

Of course, Aventurine is brilliant and didn't need Ratio's answer about dormancy, which makes the fact that Ratio went out of the way to give it to him even more odd. Ratio despises unnecessary repetition. If he wasn't dead worried, he would never have given Aventurine an answer that Aventurine had the power to find on his own.

And, as far as canon tells us, Ratio has never done this for anyone else.

The difference is night and day. It's literally the Gordon Ramsay meme, with everyone else in the entire game being the "fucking donkeys" to Aventurine's "Oh dear. Gorgeous."

So: Even if we entirely put aside shipping, if we look strictly at what we're given in canon:

Ratio treats Aventurine with more respect than he treats most other characters in the game.

He involves himself in Aventurine's struggles in a way that he flat out refuses to do for anyone else.

He compromises his own beliefs purely out of concern for Aventurine.

So, at least as far as we've been shown in canon, it is accurate to state that Aventurine is the closest character to Ratio--and unlike Aventurine (king of self-gaslighting), Ratio isn't even good at acting like he doesn't care.

Frankly, the whole thing is a little sad. Ratio's behavior is so blatantly out of character that a smart person like Aventurine should easily be able to determine it is genuine, but Aventurine's personal hang-ups and ongoing trauma make it difficult for him to even see that authenticity, let alone put faith in it. Even in canon, Ratio is mostly unable to help himself when it comes to Aventurine, which is especially unfortunate given how badly skewed Aventurine's perception of himself and others is by the start of Penacony's story.

PHEW! I finally made it through canon content!

Now there's just... everything else... 🫠

Well, to be honest, I don't think I could ever manage to put all my thoughts about this ship into one post. Probably not even fifty posts.

So rather than trying to say everything there is to say about Ratiorine, what I want to focus on is how fantastically these two characters just fit together. Like puzzle pieces that need to be mirror opposites in order to link, these two characters parallel each other while also perfectly filling in each other's voids. It's some of the best character pair writing I've seen in a long time (though I'm still sort of convinced it was at least 50% sheer luck on Hoyo's part), and my perspective on their ship can really be tied to my underlying perception of Ratio and Aventurine's characters as remarkably similar individuals:

It's obvious that Aventurine is not a healthy or well-adjusted adult man, but like... neither is Ratio.

Both of these characters are "not quite right" marginalized people who, at least in my interpretation, have essentially given up on even faking normality and are now just vaguely play acting their way through being functioning members of a universe that is entirely unequipped to accept them for who they are. In a world full of cyborg cowboys and people with wings growing from their heads, the game still manages to somehow convince us that Aventurine and Ratio are odd ones out.

Kakavasha can't even exist in the dystopian capitalist hellscape of the IPC's machinations. "Aventurine" isn't even a real person, just a never-ending performance, a slick, devil-may-care persona without a single ounce of substance.

Ratio, meanwhile, is a world of one, rejected from the only place he thought he could find validation and acceptance but unable to lower himself to fit in anywhere else.

Aventurine is so bad at making genuine connections that he turns everyday conversations into gambles because he doesn't believe people will care enough to keep talking to him without tangible incentive.

Ratio's insistence on treating everyone as students, not as equals, also means he has an excuse to never emotionally engage with anyone he meets. (This is not at all a textbook method of intentional avoidance to prevent any chance of social rejection. Not at all.)

At the end of the day, Aventurine and Ratio both come across as desperately lonely, and so caught up in their own situations that they really don't have the ability to climb out of that hole on their own.

Preventing them from even being able to maintain any form of relationship is also the fact that neither one of them can even find justification. Neither one of them has a reasonable answer to the question "Why am I alive?" anymore, because Aventurine's reason died on Sigonia and Ratio's reason died with an IPC invitation instead of a Genius Society letter. Though their differing perspectives have led them on opposite paths pursuing their own answers to that ultimate question of "Why should I keep living?" (Aventurine was headed toward giving up before the end of Penacony, while Ratio has invented an immeasurable, impossible goal to distract himself from feeling purposeless), both of them are pretty much miserably unfulfilled in their current lives.

They're also both violently allergic to emotional vulnerability and to having any of their flaws or true desires actually be perceived. Both of them put up insanely high walls. Aventurine pushes boundaries with everyone he meets to provoke their hatred in advance, before they can come to disdain him for his "real" flaws. He acts out harmful racist stereotypes to use others' preconceptions for advantage, manipulating every situation he's in--incidentally affirming the stereotypes against his people by doing so.

Ratio puts a physical wall of plaster between himself and others, but the plaster bust actually doesn't have anything on the mental and emotional gymnastics he's engaged in to justify his isolation from the world, doing everything in his power to convince himself that he's isolated by choice, that it's perfectly logical for Veritas Ratio to have nowhere to truly belong, no one to truly belong with. He's so mundane after all. Of course the geniuses don't want him, that's just commonsense. But everyone else is so... different, so foolish, so illogical... It just wouldn't be reasonable of him to try to become one of them either, to be their friend instead of their distant educator. (You know, if you never try to integrate with others, then they can't reject you. Ratio has learned his lesson.)

Somehow, Aventurine and Ratio are two of the most competent and successful people in Star Rail's entire universe and simultaneously also two of the most misfit, reject, dysfunctional messes in the game. Like... Blade has a better support network than Aventurine and Ratio combined. The 7000-pound murderous mech with a disabled, genetically-modified war veteran who never got to live a normal human life hiding inside it is more capable of making friends than Aventurine and Dr. Ratio.

Which is why I love that the devs decided to make their canon backstory: "Some absolute treasures in the IPC and the Intelligentsia Guild had the galaxy-brained idea of pairing Ratio and Aventurine as strategic partners." The game's writing really said: "These two characters are so socially stunted, they have to be assigned a relationship like it's homework."

They may not have it all figured out yet, but the fans see the design: Now that Ratio and Aventurine have each other, they're not alone anymore. I have never seen two characters better fit the "Is anyone going to match my freak?" meme only for the actual answer to be "Yes."

Ratio is "plays chess with himself" levels of loner weird? No problem--Aventurine is "Wanna take bets on who's going to die today?" weirder. Ratio wears a plaster bust to ward off idiots? Aventurine transforms into a monster on command, which is pretty much guaranteed to achieve the same effect.

Ratio wasn't chosen by Nous? That's fine, Aventurine's one job as a "chosen one" was to save his people and now they're all dead. Nobody can keep up with Ratio in conversation? Watch a single comment from Aventurine turn him into a fumbling mess on live television.

Ratio's inability to relate to the experiences and development of any peers his own age have left him extremely isolated and with a permanently scarred sense of self-worth? Wow, I wonder if Aventurine knows exactly what that feels like.

They just... fit.

And, changing focus a little here at the end: While I personally think that recovery from trauma requires internal motivation and self-kindness foremost, I also think that Ratio and Aventurine's relationship should be considered from the perspective of how they help to fill each other's gaps.

Unlike any connection at the Genius Society who will always evoke unpleasant memories of Nous's rejection, Aventurine isn't going to make Ratio feel intellectually inferior. Aventurine has nothing but good things to say about Ratio's intelligence, and it's even apparent that Ratio felt comfortable enough to at least mention his Genius Society woes to Aventurine, something he explicitly does not do with anyone else.

Even when it comes to social interactions, Aventurine isn't going to make Ratio feel inadequate, because honestly? Aventurine's almost as bad at them as Ratio. Aventurine is much better at faking it socially, but when it actually counts? When he's trying to be real with others? A solid 70% of the people who meet Aventurine still end up wanting to strangle him. The guy tried to apologize for threatening to detonate the Trailblazer like a bomb by buying them a model train...

Then there's this:

Aventurine is the only character explicitly called Ratio's equal in game, and more than just treating him respectfully as an equal, Aventurine also exhibits one extreme appeal that no one else in game has ever shown to Ratio: Aventurine makes Ratio feel needed. For Aventurine, Ratio is not a forgettable after-thought as he is to Herta and most of the other geniuses. He's not just "some weird guy who scolds me about school" like he is to the Trailblazer. Ratio's intellect and skill were integral to Aventurine's plan from step one to the very end. Ratio has a place in Aventurine's plots. For a character who directly assesses worth by how beneficial a person can be to others, the fact that Aventurine can make Ratio feel wanted and valued probably produced some of the strongest personal fulfillment Ratio has had in years.

On the opposite side, Ratio's in a unique position. Out of every relevant character in Aventurine's story, Ratio is the only one who has nothing to lose by choosing Kakavasha over "Aventurine." Ratio doesn't profit off Aventurine or take any expensive gifts from him, like the Trailblazer does. He doesn't need Aventurine's luck for anything at all. He'd be able to work for the IPC even if Aventurine wasn't in it. Ratio certainly doesn't want the glitz and glamour of a shallow gambling hustler persona. His work doesn't require Aventurine's continued involvement like Topaz's and Jade's does. He'd probably prefer not to know any Stonehearts at all, thank you for asking.

Outside of deliberate-acting insults about Sigonians for Sunday's sake, we're not told that Ratio has any connections to--and therefore has no preconceived biases against--Sigonians. Being a person who values self-determination and a refusal to live in mediocrity above all else, he would have nothing but esteem for how far Aventurine has managed to come despite the harsh circumstances of his life. Ratio probably wouldn't even think Aventurine's belief in Gaiathra is that strange; one of Ratio's doctorates is actually in theology.

Unlike literally everyone else in the universe who needs "Aventurine," we have every indication that Ratio's respect and admiration will only grow when he finally gets to meet "Kakavasha."

Loneliness, rejection, betrayal, a lack of understanding from others--all of these can leave wounds that only genuine, deep bonds with others can heal.

On death's doorway, in the darkest shadow, when Aventurine had to make the choice between passing on to be with the family that loved him and choosing to return to a reality without them... Ratio's letter was there, telling Aventurine the exact thing he needed to hear to choose life: Someone is waiting for you to come home.

If the resounding rejection of Star Rail's Nihility is belief in humanity's power to make meaning in our own lives through our connections to others, then the ultimate message of Ratio and Aventurine's arc in Penacony is that no one needs to be alone. The world is not as empty as you fear.

And that is a message that Ratio and Aventurine can learn best through each other.

(I just... love them so much...)

[trustmypoison]

Seventeen with a crush

Genre: fluff

A/N: just a cute little thing I was thinking about.

Seungcheol

His air of confidence is so strong that it might be kind of unnerving at first. He knows what he likes and what he wants. If that’s you, you’ll know it. It’s all flirting and little excuses to be close to you. If you’re shy about it, watch him get kind of smug. But my personal favorite is that if you flirt back for even a moment, you’ll get to see the mask of confidence slip. Shy Seungcheol would be so cute and you’d live for turning the tables once he lets go of the confident facade. He’ll be surprisingly shy about confessing to you and it might be your turn to be a little smug.

Jeonghan

Swings wildly between being a total menace and super sweet. He’ll do something nice for you because he cares and is absolutely delighted if it flusters you. He might not try to resist the urge to pinch your cheeks and coo when blushing and can’t meet his eyes. Another one that will let you know he’s into you. Like I said, he enjoys your shyness, but if you work up the courage to be even half as bold as he is, he’ll be panicked and excited simultaneously. This stage will drag out for a long time only because he enjoys the anticipation of every interaction with you. When one of you finally confesses, I think there’s like a 75% chance he’ll be sweet and genuine about though.

Joshua

Total boyfriend material and he’ll let you know it. If you’re hanging out, he’s doing the little things like holding doors open for you, sliding out your chair, or placing his jacket over your lap if your wearing a skirt. It’s all genuine and sweet and thoughtful, but don’t let it fool you. He’s a menace as well with his little compliments and touches, loving your little reactions. I don’t think he’d let this phase go for so long so prepare for a super romantic first date.

Jun

You’ll know he’s into you simply because he makes it a point to be around you. All. The. Time. Once he gets over an initial bout of shyness, he’s a yapper. He wants to make you laugh. He wants your attention. He wants you to think about him as much as he thinks about you. There’s a quiet intensity about it that makes you swoon a bit if you think about it too hard. He might not initiate a lot of physical contact right away, but if you do he’ll totally melt. Be prepared to have him wrapped around your finger.

Hoshi

Initially super nervous. He knows he can be a bit much for some people and comes on really strong, so he holds back to test the waters. He’s really terrified of scaring you off. The more you react positively to his little jokes and touches, the more he’ll warm up. Good luck getting him off of you once he’s comfortable because he’ll be glued to your side, literally. His enthusiasm for anything to do with you is SO endearing. His members will be absolutely sick of you before they even meet you.

Wonwoo

The biggest flirt in the most understated way, if that makes sense? You leave some interactions with him and way later realize, wait, was he flirting with me??? He’s so chill about it that it takes you by surprise. Besides the flirting, you know he’s into you because he goes out of his way to talk to you. His interest in your thoughts, feelings, and interests warms you up so much, but the kicker for him is when you’re interested in what he has to say too. Phew, is he already half in love before he even asks you out.

Woozi

This might be an unpopular opinion, but I don’t think he’d be all that shy. Man loves romance judging by the songs he writes and has two fire signs confirmed in his big three. The thing is, he’s a little reserved about chasing you. Take it from a fellow fire sign, we have some rejection sensitivity. You’ll have to come to him, but you have his full attention once you do. He’s secretly going to be sickeningly sweet with you and I kind of see this crush ending without a formal moment of asking the other out. You guys just hang out one day and decide you’re together.

DK

Another one that swings wildly between two modes, but with Seokmin it’s being a full time comedian and the shyest baby you’ve ever seen. I think he loves love and I fear he might sometimes build it up in his head before he ever makes a single move. Be gentle at first, but once you reciprocate anything expect to never stop smiling. Let him be vulnerable and serious around you though and he’s yours.

Mingyu

How does it feel to have someone obsessed with you? When he’s hooked, he’s HOOKED. There will be no question that he’s into you because he checks all the boxes. Flirting, physical affection, active listening, doing little thoughtful favors for you. He’s trying to skip straight from boyfriend material to husband material. Please match his energy. The members might be sick of being around you two, but will probably urge you two to just get together already.

The8

You may never know unless he’s ready for you to know. You might even think he doesn’t like you at all, dare I say hates you, because he’s a bit stoic. But relax because this is him feeling out the situation. A vibe check is a must for him. If you pass that vibe check, he’ll be so subtle about hinting about it. It’s about the little things with him, but you still might be surprised when he admits that he likes you. Expect him to laugh at your wide eyed expression because he already knows you’re into him too. Otherwise, he would have never said anything.

Seungkwan

Talk about someone whose invested in your wellbeing from day one. One might think he’s nagging, but you know it’s because he cares and it warms you that he wants to know what you had for dinner or that you’ve had enough water today. Please, please, please thank him for his attention to detail because it will mean the world to him that you understand his intentions. A certified yapper. You’ll know all of the group gossip. I’m sorry, this has friends to lovers written all over it. It won’t be a surprise to anyone when you two end up together.

Vernon

Most people say he’s pretty aloof, but I think it’s an act. He’ll let you know he’s into you. He might have some weird approaches, like sending dozens of memes or TikToks a day, but it shows he’s thinking about you and trying to find reasons to reach out to you. Expect some deep, existential 3am conversations. I think he’s actually pretty soft and physically affectionate when it comes to you, though he’s careful not to cross any lines and might prefer that you initiate it just to be safe. Put him out of his misery. He wants you all over him so just make a move already.

Dino

Perhaps surprisingly bold about it. You’re kind of surprised by his attention being on you because, well… he’s him. He could have anyone he wants. But he’ll be laser focused, so sweet and attentive that it turns you to putty. You’re the one wrapped around his finger, but don’t worry, I don’t think he’d abuse that power. He prides himself on making you feel safe and comfortable. I know I’ve already said this, but please, match his energy. He’ll be asking you out in a heartbeat.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Code of Conduct 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as cheating, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss has a difficult time keeping his personal life from bleeding into his work. 

Characters: Steve Rogers, this reader is known as Rosie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

“Mr. Rogers’ office. This is Rosie, how can I hel--” 

“Where is he?” Peggy’s voice cuts over your own. 

“Oh, hello, Mrs. Rogers, he’s currently in a meeting--” 

“Get him.” 

“Mrs.--” 

“Don’t argue with me. Go get him. Are you not his assistant?” She challenges brusquely. 

Her accent adds to the sharpness of her words. Her curt demeanour is a stark contrast to her husband. Your boss is always amiable, accommodating even, but the few times you’ve dealt with his wife have been similarly tense. You put a smile on so she can’t hear your anxiety. 

“Of course, Mrs. Rogers,” you preen, “I’ll put you on a quick hold.” 

“No, you will get him. No hold.” 

You suck in a sigh and hold your breath in your chest, “of course.” 

You set the phone down. You don’t see how her hearing your desktop will be any better but you wouldn’t want to irritate her further. It must be urgent. 

You stand and smooth out your dress. You step out from behind your desk, digging your nails into your palms as you ball your fists tight. You get nervous about most things. Answering the phone took your months to get used to and even now you tend to fumble over your words. 

You go to the door and brace yourself. You don’t know why you expect Mr. Rogers to be upset. He’s never been anything close to rude. Maybe short in times of stress but not unpleasant. You knock and wait as you twiddle your fingers against your striped pleats. 

It isn’t Mr. Rogers who answers by Mr. Barnes. You give a sheepish smile, “excuse me, doll.” 

He steps past you and you bid him a good day. He leaves without further courtesy and Mr. Rogers calls your name from within, “need something?” He asks. 

“Oh, yes, Mrs. Rogers is on the phone.” 

He doesn’t seem happy about that. His cheek dimples and he nods, wiggling his pen at you, “patch her through.” 

You go back to your desk and pick up the receiver, “hello, Mrs. Rogers, he’s available now--” 

“I don’t want to talk to you, honey. Where is my husband?” 

You transfer her without another word. Phew. You almost feel bad for your boss as you hear him pick up in his office. His tone is low and dull. 

You try not to overhear, letting his conversation drone into a buzz. There’s enough work to be done without worrying about his personal life. Your own afterhours concerns are more than concerning. You wouldn’t say you have much going on and that’s the problem. It’s moment like those that ease your envy of others’ full plates. 

You haven’t seen the girls lately. The group chat’s been quiet but you suppose you could go ahead and say hi. Your weekly cocktails petered out to biweekly, then monthly, and now you can’t remember the last time you let go with a mimosa. 

You peek over your desk and back at your screen. It’s not only on them to keep things going. You pick up your phone and open the chat. The last message is a meme Elfie sent about printers. You shake your head and send a little waving sticker, keying in a message. 

‘Long time no see! I’m in need of drinks. Anyone free? When’s best? Hope you’re all taking care.’ 

You’re professional tone shines through even on WhatsApp. It’s a bit lame but you’re an entirely different person in text. Most people are surprised to meet the mousy secretary hiding behind her screen after the lively back and forth in Outlook. 

You set your phone down and try not to stare at it. A reply never comes while you’re waiting for it, nor does water boil when you’re watching it. As you click around and try to remember where you were, the silence sinks in. Your realisation brings your eyes up as quickly as Mr. Rogers shadow. 

You bat your lashes at him in surprise, “need something, sir?” 

He gives a half-smile, the type weighed down by disappointment. He sighs and crosses his arms, leaning on the door frame, “you hungry?” 

“Um, well, it’s only eleven,” you shrug. 

“Mm, yeah,” he unfolds one arm to rub his neck, “I’m restless. You feel like getting lunch early?” 

“Sure, I can run out and grab you something,” you stand eagerly. 

“No, uh,” he drops his arm back over his other, “together. I had a reservation for me and Peggy but she canceled. I’d hate to inconvenience the restaurant and I just can’t sit and mope in my office.” 

“Oh, okay, I guess that works...” 

“Do you need to ask your boss?” He scoffs. 

You laugh at his joke, “do I?” 

He smiles, a real smile and drops his arms, “my treat. You know what, you earned it. You work so hard around here, a little employee appreciation is overdue.” 

“That’s so nice,” you chime, “uh, sir, I... I should leave an away message, should I?” 

“Oh, who cares, come on.” 

“Well, I mean...” 

“Ah, I get it, boss is a real hard ass,” he winks. 

“Sir,” you giggle nervously and teethe your lip. He watches your mouth. 

“You can catch up later. Come on, I haven’t played hooky in years.” 

“Hooky?” You stammer. 

He laughs, “a goody two shoes. It’s why I hired you but it’s okay to let loose once in a while.” 

“I know, Mr. Rogers, it’s just... it’s work.” 

“Too much of it and you’ll turn into me,” he huffs. “Please, I’m sure your husband would hate if you were never home. Never answered the phone.” 

“If I had one, probably,” you blurt out then look away shyly. 

“Really? I thought...” he begins and shakes his head, “doesn’t matter. I’ll grab my jacket and we’ll go. I missed breakfast.” 

“Um, sure, sir,” you agree and put your hand on the phone. 

When he turns, you look down. Missie sent a reply; ‘please, drinks are required!’ Ooh! Yay. 

[star-suh]

Re-Connect

Lee Jeno x Male Reader

an: based on the sex pollen trope.

—

lee jeno is a masterful spy working for the government,this time his mission is to deactivate an explosive device set in one of the stadiums in the city, which is packed with civilians today. “okay mr. lee you will be disguised as a policeman and your job is to cut the cables of the device to avoid the explosion. but in order to maintain your safety you will be accompanied by mr. ln”. “what?” jeno said surprised, “i can do it by myself” he adds. “we know” the higher up replies quickly, “but it’s just so you can do it without worries”. jeno was ready to talk back but the video call was cut off, “damn” he sighs.

the reason why jeno was so opposed to the idea of being with yn is because they had a past together that didn’t end well. they both were trained in the same academy to become top tier spies so naturally a relationship bloomed between them but the constant missions in which they had to go to different locations created a rift in their relationship which finally ended when they both had an argument. jeno sighed, he knew that sooner or later he had to talk to yn but he doesn’t feel ready yet.

“hello jeno”, yn awkwardly said, a bit flustered. “oh, hi y…n…” and as if he was in one of those cliche movies the world stopped when he saw yn in front of him, even his hair moving in slow motion. “close your mouth or a fly will enter it” yn joked trying to lighten the atmosphere. jeno giggled flustered, “are you ready for the mision” jeno asked. “mmh hmm” the other nodded, “let’s just do this fast and get over with this”, a lump forms on jeno’s throat. as much as he wants to deny it he wants to spend some time with yn even if it’s just for a mission they had to do together.

“yeah let’s go” yn leads the way, entering the black van followed by jeno. the pair accompanied by the rest of the team arrives to the stadium, trying to blend in as just simple viewers of today’s game. “the report says that the bomb is near the south entrance, let’s go there then” jeno says looking at his watch and pressing the stopwatch button that started a countdown. the pair arrived at the south entrance while the rest of the team stayed in the van to communicate instructions to them through earphones.

“we are here” yn touches his earphone waiting for instructions. “yeah umm you should see in front of you the bathroom signal, go there and turn left you should see a door” yn signaled jeno to follow him, “the door’s locked. i need a code” jeno talks to jisung, who was in charge of the technology part of the mission, a hacker you must say, “wait a second aaand… done, it’s open now but don’t let it close or else you have to wait almost one hour so i can open it again”.

“roger that” quickly jeno went towards the strange package wrapped in a black trash bag and some tape. he looks at his watch and wipe the sweat off of his forehead, while yn stands on the door watching if someone comes. jeno unwraps the package and sees a quite fancy device for it to be a bomb, “this looks tough” jeno murmurs but he then breathes deeply and relaxes his nerves, “phew.. how do i start..” anxiety starting to take over him. “hey” yn blurted out, “it’s okay, don’t worry” jeno looks at him, those words reminiscing him of their past days, “you can do it” a soft expression plastered on yn’s face that made jeno regain his confidence, “thank you” he says softly resuming his job.

out of nowhere yn hears footsteps running towards the door, “jeno i don’t want to scare you but i think we have some company coming our way.. no pressure tho”, jeno again giggles nervously, “sure” his face and arms dripping with sweat.

suddenly a pair of hunky men burst through the door, yn adopted a position to get ready to fight “focus on that damn bomb i’ll take care of them”. one of the men runs towards yn and he does the same landing a punch on the other’s face but he then is met with a punch on his face too that sends him flying to the floor, “guess this is not gonna be boring” he spits some blood and cleans his lips with the back of his hand, “come on assholes, you two are going to be my bitches today” a smirk appearing on his face.

while the three keep throwing punches and kicks here and there, jeno was still disassembling the device but he couldn’t help to glance at yn, his bloody and bruised face. he felt a rush on his body, a need to go and help yn but he knows he needs to focus and end his job. yn manages to knock one of the men on the back of his neck leaving him unconscious on the floor but the other one manages to overpowered him, throwing him to the floor and starts to choke him. desperately yn punches and scratches his face trying to get him off of his neck, veins start to bulge on his forehead a neck,his face completely red and his eyes becoming hooded. when he thought that would be his last breath he felt the pair of hands leaving his neck alone so he quickly crawled away from there and coughs a lot. his chest heaving a lot trying to catch some air then he looks at the other man screaming. the cause was that jeno threw a little knife to his thigh. “you damn fuckers” he cries in pain pulling the knife out and pressing against the wound. he then stands up and pulls out a vial out of one of his pockets he then picks up the other guy and throws the object to the floor near them, “let’s see if you both can keep focused on disassembling that shit” he runs towards the door and close it. from the vial a pink smoke comes out, “what the fuck is that” yn asks, “maybe some toxin?” jeno answers and then freaks out, “are we gonna die?” his tone was laced with worry. “i don’t think so, he said something to keep focused”, “so maybe a hallucination gas or something?” jeno says. “i don’t know man but just finish your job.

yn takes off his jacket and wraps him around jeno’s mouth and nose, “try to not breath much of that gas. you’re almost done with it.. good job” yn pats jeno’s head and sits against a wall.

finally with the last cable being cut the device turns off by itself and jeno celebrates standing up and cheering like a little kid in a birthday party. pressing again the button on his watch to stop the stopwatch seeing he also break his previous record of the time he spent disassembling explosive devices, it made him more confident on his job. he then turns around and see yn slumped against the wall, sweating a lot and his face flushed as hell, “oh my god yn, what happened?” he takes out the jacket around his nose breathing in the gas too. “i don’t know i feel weird… and hot..”, “do you have a fever or something?” jeno caresses his face surprised by how hot he was, “i think this is because to the gas jeno” yn squirms on the spot, a moan escaping from his mouth. this catches jeno off guard and the gas starts affecting him too, “yn i- i’m sorry for what happened that time”, he positions himself on top of yn, his veiny arms on each side of yn and his face turning red too. “i was a fool, scared of being with someone” his face drooping on yn’s shoulder, “i’m so sorry for telling you all those things to make you get away from me” he nuzzles his head on yn’s neck leaving subtle little kisses on the burning skin. yn moans due to the other’s actions, “jeno.. it’s- it’s ok, i’ve already forgave you” yn pushes jeno’s head harder against his neck, showing jeno that he wanted more and the latter complied, his lips sucking around the skin leaving hickeys on it, he then licks a stripe and afterwards bites that spot leaving a mark of his teeth on there. “you look so pretty like this, all flustered” jeno praises. “i need your help jeno… it’s itching… inside me” yn confesses, shy and flustered. “don’t worry i’ll help you with it” jeno kissed his lips, licking the blood that was on them.

the scene escalated quickly with them both discarding their clothes,craving to feel each other’s bodies, the burning sensation that is left on them every time their bodies touch. “i missed this” jeno declared while leaving more mark on yn’s torso. “fuck jeno” yn moaned, hooded eyes and drool coming out of his mouth, he was already a whimpering,”i barely touched you and you are already so fucked up”, jeno swear he can almost see yn’s pupils turning into hearts by how horny he was right now. jeno ripped yn’s briefs leaving them as if it was a jockstrap, his bare ass touching the cold floor. the top’s hand slid up and down yn’s pulsing hole, his middle finger moving right above said part. jeno kept on kissing yn, swallowing his moans while his fingers prepped him down there. “i’m sorry” jeno apologizes again, tears forming on his eyes “it’s not the time jeno” yn holds back a whimper when one of jeno’s digits entered his hole, “i know but i just want to tell you that i still love you”...

jeno slicked his dick with yn’s saliva, that he previously asked him to spit on his hand, and put it on the other’s entrance. pushing little by little until he stuffed yn completely with his fat dick. “i forgot how hung you are” yn express while getting used to the sensation. “but you know how to take it like a champ.. you never disappoint me” jeno praises. his hung cock going in and out of yn’s ass while his balls smacked against him. “god how much i’ve missed clapping your cheeks” jeno snickers and kisses the tip of yn’s nose, “my pretty prince”. “jeno you make me feel so good” yn claims, “yeah i know that, your body tells me everything. i wish you could see how your hole grips on my cock it doesn’t want me to leave it empty”. jeno pulls out watching at the gaping hole clenching, slapping the tip on it and putting it in to then slam himself with all the strength he has left on his body.

jeno keeps railing yn while he lays down, back against the floor, grabbing him by his legs as a way to keep himself steady. on the other side yn was jerking off at the sight he has in front, jeno’s sculpted torso all sweaty and with some marks, his chest bouncing thanks to the recoil of his powerful thrusts and his slutty waist moving as if he was dancing a choreography, in short jeno knows how to fuck, how to make yn feel on cloud 9 with his big dick. few minutes later, unable to hold it more longer and the constant abuse suffered from jeno’s tip touching his prostate, yn spurted cum all over his body with some landing on his face and hair. “wonder how long has it been since you masturbate, this seems to be a lot of jizz” jeno played with the liquid with his fingers, coating one of his digits and then smearing it on yn’s lips like a balm and kissed him immediately afterwards.

“please give it to me. fill me up” yn begged hugging jeno, one of his hand on his wide back while the other on one of his ass cheeks to try to make him go faster, “i love how your tip kisses my prostate but i need you to move faster please, go hard” his moans growing louder when jeno accelerated his pace, “yesss” yn rolled his eyes back, “fuck me like the beast you are. break my fucking ass” the sudden change on the tone of his pleas drove jeno wild, as if those simple words turned on a switch inside of him he went as fast as he could, the outline of a bulge forming on his tummy every time jeno goes in and by consequence yn ends up scratching the top’s back, “what the fuck” jeno growls, opening yn’s mouth with his fingers and spitting on it several times, “swallow it” he demanded, then sliding his index and middle finger on yn’s lips while he sucked them.

now in a doggy style jeno is doing the last thrusts when he uses the previously sucked fingers to introduce them along with his dick on yn’s gaped ass, while his cock keeps opening yn’s walls his fingers massage the rim of his red puckered hole.

“fuckk” with a loud grunt jeno empties himself on yn, every spurt followed by little grunts. jeno plops himself on top of yn, eager to feel the warmth of his body. “that was way good” yn blurted out, caressing jeno’s hair, “good make up sex” jeno adds, both snickered when they hear the door unlocking, “umm… you all can go out now, i could unlock the door again” jisung spoke to both through their earphones and then realization kicks in, yn gasps while jeno stays still with open eyes. they were so focused on each other that they forgot to turn off their earphones, so basically, jisung heard all the heated sex session. “sorry jisung” yn muttered. “it’s okay” in the van a flustered jisung was stunned, flushed face, sweaty forehead and a big tent forming on his pants, “i need a second” jisung tells the rest of the group in the van while going out of the vehicle and ran towards the nearest bathroom.

“do you think he’s gonna say anything?” yn asks jeno who just shrugged it off, “i don’t care, that way they know you’re my boyfriend now”, yn giggled like a fool in love, “i’m serious” jeno seals his words with a passionate kiss.

[apollogeticx]

✧˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ YOUNG AND BEAUTIFUL ♡·˚

— [♡] ; love it's in the moments you don’t speak—the glances, the touches, the unspoken promises. ｡°. gojo satoru

tags: mutual pining, fem!reader, fluff, intimacy, comfort, slow build, flirty gojo, first kiss, soft moments, special grade sorcerer reader, gojo is very much clearly simping

wc. 11K *phew!*

It had been a few years since you last stepped foot in Jujutsu High. The familiar grounds looked the same, though they seemed quieter without the chaos of students running around. The memories of training, missions, and countless teasing remarks from your former teacher all came flooding back as you walked up the path toward the main building.

You had been away, working tirelessly in the field, honing your cursed techniques, taking on increasingly difficult missions. It had all led to this moment. Today, you were returning to be officially promoted to a Special Grade Sorcerer.

As you approached the entrance, you felt a mixture of pride and nerves. After all, you hadn’t seen Gojo Satoru since graduation. It wasn’t like you hadn’t kept in touch with your friends, but Gojo… he was different. You knew he’d be at the promotion ceremony, and somehow, that thought made your heart race.

Stepping inside, you looked around, the echo of your footsteps filling the hallway. A part of you hoped you might run into Gojo before the ceremony, but knowing him, he’d probably make a grand entrance—like always.

"Well, well. Look who’s back."

The voice came from behind you, teasing and all too familiar. You turned quickly, and there he was—Gojo, standing casually with that same cocky smile, hands in his pockets, and his blindfold once again wrapped around his head.

"You still like sneaking up on people, I see," you said, trying to sound calm, though your pulse quickened at the sight of him.

He grinned. "And you still get flustered just as easily. Some things never change, huh?"

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, but you weren’t the same shy student you had been before. You had grown, faced some of the worst curses in existence, and yet Gojo still had this effect on you.

"I didn’t expect you to greet me so soon," you replied, a small smile tugging at your lips. "I thought you'd be too busy for that."

"Busy?" Gojo’s grin widened as he sauntered closer. "I made time just for you. After all, a former student coming back to get promoted to Special Grade? That’s a big deal."

You felt a swell of pride at his words, but also a little self-conscious. "It feels surreal. I mean, being here again… and, well, being promoted."

"Surreal, huh?" He tilted his head, eyeing you with amusement. "Kid, you’re more than ready. I saw that years ago."

His words caught you off guard. Despite everything you had accomplished, hearing Gojo acknowledge your strength like this—it felt like something had come full circle. He had always pushed you, teased you, but he also believed in you more than anyone else.

"I wasn’t so sure back then," you admitted softly, "but I guess I’ve learned a lot since."

Gojo nodded slowly, a rare look of seriousness flickering across his face. "I knew you would. You’ve got the strength, and more importantly, the heart for this kind of work."

You blinked, surprised by his sincerity. He wasn’t just teasing you now—this was Gojo at his most genuine, and it made your chest tighten.

"Thanks, Gojo-sensei," you murmured, your voice soft. "That means a lot, coming from you."

He shrugged, the playful smile returning. "Don’t get all emotional on me now, kid. We’ve got a whole ceremony to get through. You’ve earned this, and then some."

The two of you fell into step as you walked toward the meeting hall. Gojo’s presence next to you was both comforting and slightly overwhelming, like it always had been.

As you reached the doors, Gojo stopped, turning to you with a mischievous look in his eye. "You know, I’m technically supposed to give a speech during your promotion. Maybe I’ll tell everyone about how you used to hide behind Megumi when I’d mess with you."

You groaned, shaking your head with a small laugh. "Please don’t."

He chuckled. "Don’t worry, I’ll be nice. Maybe."

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. Despite the teasing, it felt good to be back in this familiar dynamic. The butterflies in your stomach hadn’t fully settled, though. Something about standing next to Gojo again stirred up old feelings—feelings you thought you had long buried.

As the doors opened and you stepped inside the hall, the attention of the other sorcerers turned to you. Gojo followed closely behind, his presence commanding the room as always. But this time, the spotlight wasn’t on him—it was on you.

The ceremony was a blur, words of congratulations and praise drifting in and out of focus. You stood tall, trying to keep your composure, but your mind kept drifting to Gojo, who leaned casually against the wall, watching the proceedings with an unreadable expression behind his blindfold.

When it was over, and the room began to empty, you finally let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. You were officially a Special Grade Sorcerer now. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted, but at the same time, a new pressure settled in its place.

Before you could get lost in thought, Gojo appeared at your side again, his hand coming to rest lightly on your shoulder. "See? Told you it wasn’t that bad."

You smiled, looking up at him. "Yeah… I guess you were right."

For a moment, there was a comfortable silence between you two. Then Gojo’s hand slid off your shoulder, and he gave you a lazy grin. "So, what’s next for the newly promoted Special Grade?"

"I’m not sure yet," you replied honestly. "But… I’m excited to find out."

Gojo studied you for a second, his grin softening. "Good. You’ve come a long way, kiddo. I’m proud of you."

Your breath hitched slightly at his words, but before you could respond, Gojo leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping just for you to hear.

"By the way, if you ever need a reminder of how far you’ve come," he murmured, his warm breath brushing against your ear, "you can always come back. I’ll be here."

You swallowed hard, feeling your face heat up all over again. He pulled back, that teasing smile still on his lips, as if he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

"Thanks," you managed to say, trying to keep your voice steady. "I’ll keep that in mind."

Gojo chuckled and stepped back, giving you a small wave as he turned to leave. "See you around, kid."

Some things really didn’t change. But this time, you didn’t mind.

It felt like home.

As you walk down the steps of Jujutsu High, you can still feel Gojo’s presence outside, his energy as unmistakable as always. The sun is setting, casting long shadows across the grounds, and there’s something surreal about being here again—not as a student, but as an equal. Or as close to an equal as anyone can get with someone like Gojo.

Your eyes land on him, leaning casually against a tree near the gates, the evening light catching in his silver hair. He’s not even trying to be inconspicuous. things never change.

"I was beginning to think you’d gotten lost," he calls out as you approach, his tone as playful as ever. "Or did you just need a moment to compose yourself after all those heartfelt congratulations?"

You roll your eyes, but a smile tugs at your lips. "You weren’t even waiting here for that long. I thought you’d be off somewhere causing trouble."

"Waiting? Nah, I was just enjoying the peace and quiet before you showed up," he quips, though the smile on his face suggests otherwise.

You walk up to him, arms crossed over your chest, but there’s a flicker of boldness in your step. You’ve changed since the last time you were here, and you can feel it in the way you hold yourself. And maybe, just maybe, you’re ready to push back a little this time.

"Still wearing that blindfold, I see," you remark casually, your eyes flicking up to the familiar fabric covering his eyes. "You know, I thought someone as unpredictable as you might’ve switched it up by now."

Gojo’s grin widens, clearly enjoying where this is going. "Oh? And what do you suggest I wear? Something more 'grown up' like you? You do seem different, but I didn’t think you’d start giving me fashion advice."

You shrug with a smirk. "I don’t know, maybe something a little less… lazy. Or are you afraid of people seeing those famous eyes of yours too often? I hear it’s bad for their health."

Gojo chuckles, the sound deep and warm. "You really have gotten bolder. I like it."

You tilt your head, feeling the dynamic between you shift ever so slightly. There’s a tension now, a playful kind that wasn’t there before. When you were a student, he always had the upper hand, teasing you endlessly, knowing you’d blush and fumble your words. But now… now you’re not quite as easy to fluster.

"Well," you say, stepping a little closer, "I had to get better at keeping up with you eventually. I’ve had plenty of practice dodging your teasing over the years."

Gojo’s grin falters for the briefest moment, replaced with something more thoughtful as he watches you. He shifts his weight, pushing off the tree and straightening up, towering over you as he often does. "Oh, I don’t know. I think you secretly enjoyed all that teasing."

Your heart skips a beat at his words, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing you blush. Not this time. "Maybe," you say with a smirk of your own, "but I think you enjoyed it more."

That catches him off guard. His eyebrows raise slightly, and for a split second, you see something flicker across his face—surprise, amusement, and something else you can’t quite place. He recovers quickly, though, leaning in just a bit closer, his voice lowering as if you’re sharing a secret.

"Well, aren’t you full of surprises today," he murmurs, his tone teasing but laced with something more, something that makes your pulse quicken. "You really have grown up."

You meet his gaze—or, you would if his eyes weren’t covered by that damn blindfold. But you feel the weight of his presence all the same, and it’s clear that this conversation is walking a fine line between old dynamics and something entirely new.

"I had to," you reply, your voice steady despite the way your heart is racing. "Couldn’t stay the same shy kid forever, right?"

Gojo hums, taking a step back but keeping his gaze locked on you. "True. Though, I have to admit, the shy part was kind of cute."

You scoff, trying not to let the compliment—or whatever that was—get to you. "Cute? Really? You’ve got a strange way of showing affection, Gojo-sensei."

His grin turns playful again, but there’s an edge to it, like he’s enjoying this new dynamic as much as you are. "I thought that was obvious by now. I’ve been nothing but affectionate with my favorite students."

"Affectionate? Is that what you call it?" You raise an eyebrow, stepping closer again, refusing to let him have the upper hand. "Because if that’s your idea of affection, you might need to work on your delivery."

Gojo laughs, a full, genuine laugh that lights up his entire face. "And here I thought I was being subtle."

"Subtle? You?" You shake your head, the smile on your face growing. "You’re about as subtle as a curse rampaging through Tokyo."

Gojo clutches his chest dramatically. "Ouch, kid. I’m starting to think you’ve really grown out of my charming personality."

You take another step, closing the distance between you two even more. "Maybe I’ve just grown into someone who can handle it better."

He’s close now, close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from him, and for a moment, the playful teasing gives way to something else. It’s like the air between you shifts—still light, but charged with an energy that wasn’t there before. You both know you’re walking into new territory, uncharted but not unwelcome.

Gojo studies you for a moment longer, and you can tell that he’s enjoying this new version of you, the way you push back, the way you don’t shy away from him anymore. "You know," he says, his voice a little softer now, "I might have to start taking you seriously if you keep this up."

You smirk, raising an eyebrow. "Maybe you should’ve been doing that all along."

He grins, but there’s something genuine behind it. "Touché."

For a moment, the two of you just stand there, the teasing falling into a comfortable silence. There’s no need to fill the space with words; you both know what’s unspoken between you. It’s a shift, a recognition that the dynamic between you is different now, more equal, more balanced.

Finally, you break the silence, feeling just bold enough to push a little further. "By the way," you say, your voice casual but laced with meaning, "I’m staying at a hotel nearby for a month. You know, in case you feel like catching up… or if you want to see how much I’ve ‘grown up.’"

Gojo’s grin falters for just a second, and you catch a flicker of something in his expression—surprise, intrigue, and maybe even a bit of challenge. Then, as quickly as it appeared, it’s replaced with his usual smirk.

"Oh?" he drawls, his voice low and teasing. "Well, don’t be too disappointed if I show up unannounced. I do have a habit of keeping people on their toes."

You chuckle, feeling the weight of his words, the unspoken promise hanging between you. "I’ll keep that in mind."

As you turn to leave, you notice Gojo falling into step beside you. His long strides easily match your pace, and though you’re both heading toward the parking lot where your car is waiting, it feels like neither of you is quite ready to say goodbye just yet.

"Walking me to my car, Gojo-sensei?" you tease, glancing up at him with a playful smile. "I didn’t think you were the gentleman type."

He shrugs with a grin, hands in his pockets as he walks casually next to you. "Well, I’ve got to make sure my freshly promoted Special Grade sorcerer doesn’t get lost on her way out. Besides, who knows what kind of trouble you’ll attract in the dark?"

You roll your eyes at his exaggerated tone, though the teasing warmth in his voice makes it hard not to smile. "I think I can handle myself. I’ve been doing just fine all these years."

"True, but you know me. I like to make an impression," he says, the corner of his mouth tugging upward into a smirk. "Especially on people I care about."

You glance at him, catching the way his words linger in the air, heavier than usual. There's a subtle shift in the mood between you—something teetering on the edge of playful and something deeper, and you're both fully aware of it. You’re tethering new territory, and the dynamic between you two feels different now. Mature. Equal. Exciting.

"So, it’s about making impressions now?" you tease, feeling the butterflies fluttering in your chest. "And here I thought you just liked showing off."

"Who says it can’t be both?" he replies smoothly, Gojo looked at you with a mischievous smile, his pace slowing just a bit as if savoring the moment. "You’ve grown a lot, you know. Not just in skill, but…" He tilted his head, eyeing you with a playful glint. "You’ve got a bit more bite now. You’re not the same shy little student who used to hide behind Megumi."

You laughed softly, shaking your head. "I *did not* hide behind Megumi."

"Oh, come on, kiddo." He nudged you gently with his elbow. "You used to blush every time I so much as looked your way. Admit it."

You tried to suppress the smile creeping onto your face but failed. "Okay, *maybe* I was a little flustered. But in my defense, you never made it easy."

He grinned, leaning in slightly, his voice dropping just a little. "I didn’t think I’d have to make it easy for you."

The way he said it sent a shiver down your spine, and for a moment, you were both quiet, walking side by side, the teasing tension between you now more palpable. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks again, but this time, it wasn’t out of embarrassment. There was something bold bubbling up inside you.

As you approached the parking area where your car was waiting, Gojo stopped, turning to face you. His grin softened, but the playful spark remained in his eyes. "Well, here we are. You sure you don’t want me to teleport you wherever you’re staying? Could save you some time."

You smiled, feeling the boldness surge within you. "As tempting as that sounds, I think I’ll be fine driving on my own. But thanks for the offer, Gojo-sensei."

He arched an eyebrow at the way you said his name, his smirk widening. "You keep calling me ‘sensei’ like I’m still your teacher. But we both know that’s not exactly true anymore, right?"

You felt your heart race at his words. He was right—this wasn’t the same dynamic as before. Not anymore. You both knew it, and the air between you felt thick with unspoken possibilities.

You took a deep breath, stepping a little closer to him, daring yourself to take this a step further. "I guess you’re right. Maybe I should start calling you something else. After all, we’re both adults now."

Gojo’s grin faltered for just a second, a flash of surprise crossing his features before it was quickly replaced with amusement. "Oh? And what would you call me then?"

You tilted your head slightly, enjoying the rare sight of him being caught off guard. "I’ll have to think about that."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "You really have grown. Look at you, teasing me back. I’m proud."

His words made your heart flutter in a way that felt different from before. But you weren’t done yet. Taking a bold step forward, you closed the remaining distance between you and Gojo. Before he could react, you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

No Infinity.

The moment seemed to stretch, the warmth of your lips lingering against his skin, and for the first time in your relationship with Gojo, it felt like the roles had reversed. His smirk faltered, his body going still as if processing what had just happened.

When you pulled back, his usual cocky demeanor seemed to slip for just a moment, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

"That’s for all the times you teased me mercilessly," you said softly, your voice playful but steady. "And maybe for the times I didn’t tease you back when I should have."

Gojo blinked, and then, slowly, a grin spread across his face—wider than before, more genuine. "Well, well. You’re full of surprises tonight."

You shrugged, feeling a rush of satisfaction at the shift in dynamic. "I told you. I’ve grown up."

He let out a low laugh, his eyes never leaving yours. "Yeah, you certainly have." He seemed to shake off whatever shock had held him back, his playful confidence returning in full force. "But don’t think I’m letting you get away with that so easily, kiddo."

You raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What are you going to do about it?"

His grin was almost dangerous now, that familiar spark of mischief flashing in his eyes. "You’ll just have to wait and see."

The teasing tension between you felt like it was on the edge of something more, but before either of you could push it further, you decided to pull back, letting the moment simmer rather than boil over.

As you climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine, Gojo stepped back, still watching you with that same teasing, unreadable look.

"Drive safe, kid," he called out, raising a hand in farewell.

You smiled, pulling away, but as you glanced in the rearview mirror, you couldn’t help but notice that he was still standing there, watching you drive off into the night.

It felt like the beginning of something new—something neither of you had quite figured out yet. But you were both adults now, and whatever came next, you knew it would be an interesting ride.

--

After a few days of settling into your routine post-promotion, things had started to feel more normal. Well, as normal as life could be for a Special Grade sorcerer. You’d spent most of your time either training or catching up on much-needed rest, all while reflecting on how surreal it was to be back at Jujutsu High—especially with the way things had shifted between you and Gojo.

The memory of the moment outside the school gates played on a loop in your mind. The teasing, the playful tension, the kiss you’d dared to press on his cheek. You couldn’t stop replaying the look of surprise on his face, the way his cocky grin had faltered, just for a moment. He was always so composed, so in control, but for a split second, you’d managed to throw him off. And you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since.

Now, it was late in the evening, and you found yourself sitting alone in your hotel room, the soft hum of city life outside your window. You had just finished a light training session earlier and returned to your room to freshen up. The thought of ordering room service for dinner crossed your mind as you flipped through the menu, your stomach growling in protest at the lack of food in it.

You settled on something simple and pressed the button to call down for service when your phone buzzed on the nightstand. Absentmindedly, you reached for it, half-expecting a message from one of your friends or perhaps a notification about your latest mission.

Instead, you saw a message from the hotel’s front desk.

"Gojo Satoru is here to see you."

Your heart skipped a beat, and you blinked at the screen, rereading the message just to make sure you weren’t seeing things. Gojo? Here? Now?

You hadn’t actually expected him to take up your offer. When you’d playfully mentioned your hotel stay, it had been more of a tease—an open-ended invitation, sure, but you didn’t think he’d actually show up. Not after how things had ended at the school. The kiss. The tension. The unspoken things that lingered between you both.

But apparently, Gojo had decided to take you up on your offer for dinner. The butterflies in your stomach returned full force as you tried to calm yourself. You knew him well enough to know he didn’t do anything without a reason—especially when it came to situations like this. And yet, here he was.

You glanced around your room, suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that you were still in casual clothes—nothing fancy, just a pair of comfortable shorts and a t-shirt. Hardly the outfit for hosting someone like Gojo, but you had no time to change.

A knock sounded at your door, and you took a deep breath, walking toward it with a mix of excitement and nerves.

When you opened the door, Gojo stood there, looking as infuriatingly laid-back and stylish as ever. He wasn’t in his usual sorcerer uniform tonight. Instead, he wore a dark, tailored jacket over a simple shirt and slacks, his blindfold notably absent, replaced by a pair of sleek sunglasses. His silver hair was slightly tousled, as though he hadn’t bothered much with it, but of course, he still managed to look effortlessly put together.

"Surprise," he said, flashing that signature grin of his, as though showing up at your hotel room unannounced was the most natural thing in the world.

You leaned against the doorframe, trying to play it cool even though your heart was racing. "Gojo-sensei. I didn’t think you’d actually take me up on that offer."

He stepped inside, brushing past you as if it were his place. "Well, you told me you’d be here for a month. Hope I’m not interrupting anything." He glanced around the room with a playful smile. "No secret sorcery rituals? No dangerous curses lurking around?"

You laughed, closing the door behind him. "No, no rituals. Just room service and me trying to figure out what to order for dinner."

"Room service?" Gojo raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Come on, you’re in the city. You can do better than hotel food."

You crossed your arms, trying to keep your voice steady despite his teasing. "Well, unless you’ve got a better suggestion, this is the easiest option."

Gojo grinned, pulling out his phone. "Lucky for you, I’m a man of many talents. How about I order us something decent?"

"Decent, huh? You sure about that?"

He waved off your skepticism, already tapping away at his phone as he sauntered over to the small table near the window and took a seat. "Trust me, I know the best spots. You’ll thank me later."

You watched him, half-amused and half-flustered by how comfortable he was making himself in your space. It felt strange—having him here, in your hotel room, of all places. And yet, it didn’t. Gojo always had a way of making any situation feel simultaneously normal and completely unexpected.

After a few minutes, he put his phone down, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied look. "Food’s on the way. Hope you’re hungry."

You walked over and sat across from him, the hotel menu now forgotten. "I guess I’ll have to trust you on this."

Gojo leaned forward, resting his arms on the table, and for a moment, his expression softened. "So, how’s it been? Adjusting to the whole Special Grade thing. It’s a big step up."

You shrugged, grateful for the shift in conversation. "It’s been… weird, honestly. I’m still getting used to it. It’s not just the title—it’s everything that comes with it. Expectations, responsibilities. It feels like I’ve suddenly got all these eyes on me."

Gojo nodded, his tone a little more serious than usual. "That’s because you do. Being Special Grade means more than just power—it’s the influence, the way people look at you. But don’t worry. You’ll get used to it."

His words were meant to reassure, but something about the way he said it made you think he understood better than most. You realized that despite all the bravado, Gojo had been carrying that weight for a long time. The weight of expectations, of being the strongest, of always having people watching, waiting for him to fail—or worse, succeed too easily.

"Thanks," you said, your voice softening. "Coming from you, that actually helps."

He gave you a small smile, but then, in typical Gojo fashion, the serious moment passed as quickly as it had arrived. "But don’t let it get to your head. I’m still stronger than you."

You snorted, shaking your head. "Always so humble, huh?"

"Someone has to keep you in check," he said with a wink.

A knock on the door interrupted your banter, and you stood to get the food, returning with two takeout bags that smelled divine. Gojo grinned as you set them on the table, already reaching for one of the containers.

"I told you it’d be good," he said, handing you your portion.

You raised an eyebrow, skeptical but intrigued. "Alright, I’ll give you that. Smells pretty good."

The two of you dug into the meal, the atmosphere relaxing as you ate, sharing stories and catching up on what you’d missed in each other’s lives over the past few years. Gojo regaled you with his usual exaggerated tales of missions and his ‘legendary’ exploits, making you laugh despite yourself. And for once, you found it easy to tease him back, knowing that you weren’t the timid student you used to be.

At one point, Gojo leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head with a satisfied sigh. "See? Told you I knew the best spots."

You smirked, leaning forward. "Alright, alright. I’ll admit it. You were right about the food."

"That’s what I like to hear," he said, flashing you a grin.

As the conversation naturally slowed down, a comfortable silence settled between you both, and for a moment, you found yourself simply watching him. It was strange—having him here, sharing a meal in your hotel room, in such an ordinary, human moment. Gojo, despite everything, was still a bit of an enigma. He was larger than life, someone who seemed untouchable in so many ways. And yet here he was, in your space, being just… Gojo.

And then, as if sensing the shift in your thoughts, Gojo leaned forward, resting his arms on the table, his eyes locking with yours.

"You know," he said quietly, his voice softer now, "I wasn’t just here for the food."

Your heart skipped a beat, the playful atmosphere suddenly replaced with something more serious, more intimate. You met his gaze, feeling the weight of his words, but not entirely sure where he was going with this.

"Gojo—" you started, but he interrupted you, his smile soft but knowing.

"Satoru," he corrected, his voice low. "You don’t have to keep calling me ‘sensei’ anymore. We’re not at Jujutsu High."

The air between you felt thick, the casual banter from earlier now giving way to something deeper. You swallowed, feeling the tension rise, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was something else. Something electric.

"Satoru," you said again, his name feeling intimate, like something shared in confidence. The moment stretched between you, and the air in the room felt thicker, almost charged. You hadn’t meant for it to get this way, not when you invited him to catch up. Yet here you were, the easy banter slipping into something else, something unfamiliar but undeniably tempting.

He didn't reply right away. Instead, he watched you, his gaze steady and intense, no teasing grin, no playful smirk—just focus. His eyes, no longer hidden behind a blindfold, had that same vibrant blue intensity, and they seemed to soften the longer he looked at you. He leaned back in his chair slightly, one hand lazily resting on the table as if he had all the time in the world, like there was nowhere else he’d rather be.

You felt your pulse quicken, but the warmth that settled over you wasn’t just nerves—it was anticipation. The distance between you both felt almost too large now, despite being seated so close. A quiet hum of energy flowed between you, drawing you in, but neither of you was rushing to fill the silence.

Satoru’s voice broke through the quiet, low and unhurried. "You know… it’s been a while since I’ve had a dinner like this. Just us. No missions. No students. No chaos." His tone was lazy, like the way he stretched his words was deliberate, savoring each one.

You felt your body relax into the atmosphere, your earlier tension dissolving as the two of you settled into this slower, lazier rhythm. You leaned back in your chair, mimicking his posture, allowing your foot to nudge against his under the table, just lightly. You weren’t sure what possessed you to do it, but the casual touch felt like a gentle acknowledgment of the shift between you. Something more intimate, something more *present* was settling in.

Satoru glanced down at the small contact, the corners of his mouth twitching into a soft smile—different from his usual grin. It felt… private. "Careful," he said, his voice dropping a little lower, "or I’ll start thinking you’re trying to make a move on me."

You smiled back, feeling bolder in this new atmosphere. "And what if I am?"

There it was—a daring line neither of you had crossed before. The teasing had always been a part of your dynamic, but this? This was uncharted territory, and it sent a rush of excitement through you. You weren’t the same student he used to tease and fluster. You could hold your own now.

Satoru’s gaze flicked back to yours, his expression unreadable for a moment before he leaned forward slightly, his arms resting on the table again, closer now. The distance between you narrowed, and your foot was still resting lightly against his, the touch warm through the fabric of your soft socks.

His voice was quiet, but there was a deliberate slowness to his words. "Then maybe I should see where this goes."

The way he said it, lazy and inviting, made your heart race. You knew Satoru wasn’t one to shy away from anything, especially not when it came to these kinds of games. But this didn’t feel like a game anymore. The lazy, sexy atmosphere had shifted into something heavier, something more intimate and real.

Your breath hitched slightly as you watched him lean just a little closer. He wasn’t in any hurry. The tension simmered between you both, and it felt like he was savoring every second of it. His eyes never left yours, and the weight of his presence made the room feel warmer, smaller.

"I wasn’t expecting you to actually come," you admitted, your voice quieter now, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the delicate balance between you.

Satoru smiled, slow and lazy. "What can I say? I like to keep you on your toes."

You smirked, shaking your head slightly. "I’m starting to think you enjoy seeing me flustered."

He chuckled softly, the sound low and smooth, the kind that made the air feel heavier. "Maybe a little. But you’re not the same shy student anymore, are you? I have a feeling you can handle yourself now."

There was a deeper meaning to his words, and you felt it resonate through you. He was testing the waters, waiting to see how far you were willing to go.

Your heart raced, but this time, it wasn’t just nerves. It was a slow, delicious anticipation, like you were both slowly, lazily circling something inevitable. You leaned forward, closing the gap between you, your arms resting on the table now, much like his. The space between your faces felt almost too intimate, but neither of you pulled away.

"Maybe I can," you murmured, your voice steady despite the flutter in your chest.

Satoru’s gaze softened as his eyes traveled over your face, lingering on your lips for just a second before meeting your eyes again. There was no rush, no urgency, but the tension between you hummed quietly, like something waiting to break free.

"You’ve got more confidence now," he said, his voice low and almost intimate. "I like it."

You smiled softly, your heart pounding in your chest. "Guess I had a good teacher."

He laughed quietly, the sound warm and teasing. "You might regret saying that."

For a moment, neither of you moved. The atmosphere between you was thick with anticipation, but it wasn’t the kind of tension that demanded immediate action. It was slow, deliberate, like you both wanted to savor the moment, to see where it would take you.

Then, without a word, Satoru reached across the table, his hand brushing against yours, his fingers warm and slightly rough. The touch was subtle but intimate, his thumb tracing a slow, lazy pattern across the back of your hand.

Your breath caught in your throat as you glanced down at the contact, your heart racing. It was such a simple gesture, but it sent a ripple of heat through you, settling low in your stomach. You didn’t pull away, and neither did he. Instead, you let the moment stretch between you, the lazy, sexy atmosphere deepening with each passing second.

Satoru’s thumb continued its slow, deliberate movements, and when you looked up at him again, his expression had softened. There was no teasing grin now, no cocky smirk. Just him, watching you with an intensity that made your pulse race.

"You’re not running away," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. "I’m not the same person I was, Satoru."

His gaze held yours, and for a moment, the playful banter disappeared completely, replaced by something far more intimate, far more real.

"No," he agreed, his voice quiet and serious. "You’re not."

And then, he stood up, moving around the table with a slow, deliberate grace that made your heart race. He stopped just in front of you, his tall frame towering over you as he leaned down, one hand resting on the back of your chair.

You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, your breath catching as his face hovered just inches from yours. The tension between you was almost unbearable now, the lazy, slow atmosphere pulling you both into its gravity. You could feel the warmth of his body so close to yours, the space between you almost nonexistent.

Satoru’s hand moved from the chair to your chin, his touch gentle but firm as he tilted your face up to meet his. His thumb brushed against your bottom lip, and your pulse quickened, your breath shallow as you waited, the air between you electric.

"You sure you can handle this?" he murmured, his voice low and teasing, though there was a seriousness behind his words, a quiet question.

You smiled softly, leaning into his touch, your voice steady despite the rapid beating of your heart. "I think I can."

Satoru’s lips curled into a slow, lazy smile, his eyes never leaving yours as he leaned in, the space between you disappearing entirely.

Satoru's thumb lingered on your lips for just a second longer, tracing the outline of your bottom lip with a feather-light touch. The gesture was slow, deliberate, and unhurried, as if he was savoring the moment just as much as you were. His face was close—so close you could feel the warmth of his breath brushing against your skin. The lazy, electric atmosphere between you seemed to buzz, both of you aware of the unspoken tension but not rushing to cross any lines too quickly.

You could feel the weight of his hand on your chin, firm yet gentle, like he was giving you the chance to pull away if you wanted to. But you didn’t. The space between you both was charged, like a silent dare to see who would push things further first.

"You’re not scared, are you?" Satoru asked, his voice low and teasing, yet there was a softness there, like he was genuinely curious about how far you were willing to go.

You met his eyes, those blue depths that held a thousand secrets, and felt a shiver run down your spine. Despite the playful nature of his words, there was something real simmering beneath them, something that felt new and exciting.

"Not scared," you replied softly, feeling a boldness rising inside you, your own voice taking on that same slow, lazy quality as the room around you. "Just… curious."

Satoru’s grin widened, just slightly, his gaze flickering between your eyes and lips. "Curious, huh?" His voice was almost a whisper now, and you could feel the weight of each word settle in the air between you, as if testing how far you were willing to explore this new territory.

"Mm-hmm," you murmured, leaning into the moment, into the tension that felt more like a game between the two of you. Your heart was racing, but the pace was slow, controlled, as though you were both allowing yourselves the space to figure out exactly where this was going. "Aren’t you?"

Satoru’s eyes gleamed with that familiar mischief, but this time, it was different—laced with something deeper, more curious. His hand shifted from your chin to cup the side of your face, his touch soft yet confident, his thumb brushing against your cheek in a way that made your skin tingle.

"Maybe," he said, his tone casual but heavy with meaning. "I’m always curious about what happens next."

You felt your breath catch as his thumb continued its slow, lazy path over your skin, drawing a line down to your jaw. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t a heated, desperate moment. Instead, it felt like the two of you were experimenting, testing the waters with each small touch, each slow breath.

The intimacy of it all settled over you like a warm blanket—soft, enveloping, but not overwhelming. You were both here, in this quiet, lazy bubble, just the two of you figuring things out one heartbeat at a time. His hand lingered, his fingers sliding back behind your ear, his touch sending a light thrill down your spine, making the room feel smaller, quieter, more intense.

For a moment, neither of you moved. You were aware of the way your breath had quickened slightly, the way your heart pounded beneath your skin, but it wasn’t overwhelming. It felt natural, like this slow dance of curiosity was meant to be drawn out.

Satoru leaned in just a little more, his lips now just a breath away from yours. His eyes never left yours, like he was gauging your reaction, giving you the space to decide what came next. You could feel the tension between you, lazy but buzzing, both of you savoring the slow build-up.

"You want to test the waters a bit more?" His words were playful, but his voice had dropped lower, his tone laced with something heavier, like he was offering you a choice.

You tilted your head just slightly, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you whispered back, "Maybe."

His grin softened, and in that moment, he seemed to relax into the atmosphere fully, leaning in until his forehead gently brushed against yours. The simple contact sent a wave of warmth through you, and you found yourself leaning into him, letting the tension build lazily, neither of you in a rush to dive in too deep just yet.

Satoru’s hand slid down to your neck, his fingers trailing lightly across your skin, leaving a warm, tingling sensation in their wake. His touch was gentle, almost experimental, like he was testing your reactions with each small movement.

"Still curious?" he murmured, the soft, teasing words sending a shiver down your spine. His voice was low, intimate, and it felt like a quiet invitation to keep exploring this moment, this new space you were both creating together.

You smiled, leaning into the feeling of his hand on your skin, the slow, lazy heat between you building with every passing second. "More curious than ever."

His laugh was soft, rumbling against your skin, and you could feel the warmth of it, the way it settled into the air around you. The closeness between you was intoxicating, but neither of you felt the need to rush things.

His fingers continued their slow exploration, tracing the line of your collarbone, sending light shivers through your body. You let your eyes close for a moment, focusing on the feeling of his touch, the warmth of his presence so close to yours.

Then, you felt him shift slightly, and when you opened your eyes again, his lips were hovering just a breath away from yours. He didn’t move any closer, though—just stayed there, waiting, watching you with that same lazy, teasing grin that always seemed to make your heart race.

"You sure about this?" he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper, his breath warm against your lips.

You nodded, your own smile soft as you met his gaze. "Yeah, I’m sure."

And then, slowly, deliberately, you closed the distance between you, pressing your lips softly against his.

The kiss was gentle, tentative at first, like the two of you were still testing the waters, still figuring out how to navigate this new territory. But it wasn’t hesitant—it was curious, exploratory, as though you were both enjoying the slow, lazy build-up just as much as the kiss itself.

Satoru’s hand slid up to the back of your neck, pulling you just a little closer, but still keeping the pace slow, deliberate. His lips moved against yours in a way that made your skin tingle, every small movement sending ripples of warmth through you.

You could feel him smile against your lips, and you couldn’t help but smile back, the intimacy of the moment deepening as you both relaxed into the kiss, letting the curiosity between you take the lead.

Neither of you was in a hurry. The kiss stayed soft, exploratory, as though you were both savoring each second, each small movement, letting the lazy, intimate atmosphere guide you.

When you finally pulled back, your foreheads rested against each other, both of you breathing a little heavier, but still wrapped in that quiet, comfortable space you’d created together.

"Well," Satoru said, his voice still low and teasing, "I think I like this kind of curiosity."

You laughed softly, feeling the warmth of the moment settle over you, content in the knowledge that you had all the time in the world to keep exploring where this would take you. "Me too."

You push back your chair and stand slowly, the wooden legs scraping softly against the floor. Satoru steps back to give you space, his expression shifting from that lazy smirk to something more thoughtful, more curious, as he watches your movements closely. You can feel the weight of his gaze on you, but there’s no rush in the air between you—just that same slow, deliberate energy humming beneath the surface.

With a subtle flick of your wrist, your cursed energy ripples through the room, and the overhead lights dim, casting a soft, intimate glow around you both. The warm light now barely illuminates the space, creating shadows that stretch lazily across the room, giving everything a deeper, more intimate feel.

Satoru watches with an amused but impressed look, his eyes tracking the subtle shift in the atmosphere. His smile returns, a little softer now, more curious than before. "Setting the mood, huh?" he teases, but there’s no bite in his words, just a low, lazy murmur.

You turn to face him, your heart still beating steadily, though now there’s an air of playfulness in the way you move, more sure of yourself than before. "Well," you say with a small smile, "I figured we might as well make it comfortable, right?"

Satoru chuckles under his breath, stepping closer, the soft shadows playing over his features as he tilts his head slightly. "Comfortable, huh? Is that what you’re going for?" His tone is light, teasing, but there’s a softness to it, like he’s intrigued by this new side of you. He lets his gaze drift around the room, as if taking in the subtle change in atmosphere, before his eyes find yours again.

You feel the air between you shift even more as you close the small distance, the glow of the dimmed lights making everything feel warmer, more intimate. The shadows accentuate the way Satoru’s silver hair catches the light, the lines of his features more pronounced in the low light.

Satoru’s hands rest loosely at his sides, his posture relaxed but alert, as if waiting for your next move. He doesn’t rush in, doesn’t make a move to close the gap this time. Instead, he watches you, those bright blue eyes peering at you with a kind of lazy curiosity, letting you take control of the moment.

You take a step closer, standing just a breath away now, the soft hum of tension between you growing in the dimmed light. Your hands hover just in front of him, fingers brushing lightly over the fabric of his jacket, testing the waters, watching for his reaction.

He doesn’t pull away. Instead, he leans in just a fraction, his body language open, relaxed, and welcoming. His gaze remains fixed on yours, and though his smirk is still there, it’s tempered by something more sincere, something more curious.

"Is this part of your technique?" he asks softly, his voice low and smooth, teasing but with a hint of genuine interest. "Or are you just trying to distract me?"

You laugh quietly, your fingers trailing lightly up the lapel of his jacket before resting on his chest. "Maybe a bit of both," you reply, your voice soft but confident.

Satoru chuckles again, his breath warm against your skin as he leans in slightly, his hands finally coming up to rest gently on your waist, the touch lazy and casual but firm enough to let you know he’s fully present in this moment. His thumbs brush idly over your sides, and the simple contact sends a ripple of warmth through you, making the room feel even smaller, even more intimate.

"Seems like I’m not the only one who likes to play games," he murmurs, his voice dropping even lower, his lips just a breath away from your temple.

You feel a smile tug at your lips as you lean into the warmth of his touch, your hands resting lightly against his chest. "Maybe I’ve learned a thing or two from the best," you say, your tone equally playful but laced with something deeper, something genuine.

The quiet between you thickens as you stand there, the soft light casting shadows across your bodies, the energy between you lazy but charged with a sense of anticipation. Satoru’s grip on your waist tightens just slightly, his fingers pressing into your sides as he pulls you closer, the space between you all but disappearing.

He leans down, his lips brushing against your temple in a feather-light touch before trailing down toward your ear, his voice a low, lazy murmur. "You really have grown up, haven’t you?" There’s a playful edge to his words, but it’s softened by the intimacy of the moment, by the way his hands move gently over your body, exploring without rushing, without demanding.

Your hands slide up to his shoulders, fingers curling lightly around the fabric of his jacket, holding him close but not pulling him in too tight.

"You don’t seem too surprised," you whisper, your voice barely above a murmur as you rest your forehead lightly against his, the proximity making every small movement feel amplified.

Satoru’s lips curve into a lazy smile, his fingers brushing gently up and down your sides. "I think I’ve always known there was more to you than you let on."

His words are soft but laced with meaning, and they hang in the air between you, thickening the atmosphere even more. You can feel the weight of his gaze on you, the curiosity in his eyes as he watches your reactions, as if savoring each small shift in the energy between you.

You smile softly, your fingers playing with the fabric of his jacket as you let the moment stretch, the slow, intimate dance between you building with each passing second. "Maybe I was just waiting for the right moment."

Satoru hums softly, his hands sliding up your back now, his touch slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring the feel of you beneath his fingertips. "Seems like now’s as good a time as any."

You can’t help but smile at the way his words settle over you, at the lazy, curious pace you’ve both set, like there’s no rush to figure everything out right away. The air between you is thick with anticipation, but it’s the slow kind, the kind that simmers and builds, neither of you in any hurry to rush the moment.

You lean in just a little closer, your lips brushing against the corner of his mouth as you whisper, "Maybe it is."

The soft brush of your lips against the corner of his mouth lingers in the air, and you can feel the slight tension in Satoru’s body as he absorbs the moment. His hands on your waist tighten, just barely, as if anchoring you both in the lazy intimacy of the dimmed room. His breath catches for a second, and you sense the shift as curiosity gives way to something deeper, something far more intentional.

Satoru leans in, his lips barely grazing yours again, but this time, the hesitation dissolves. There’s no more teasing, no more waiting. The playful back and forth that had lingered between you shifts into a new rhythm, one filled with heat and slow, deliberate intent. His lips press fully against yours now, soft but firm, and you feel the warmth of him, the depth of the moment drawing you in.

The kiss is slow at first, lazy like everything else about this evening. Neither of you rushes it. You savor the feel of his lips moving against yours, the softness of his touch at your waist pulling you just a little closer until your bodies are fully pressed together. It’s like you’re both tasting the moment, letting it unfold naturally, as if the kiss has been building for longer than either of you realized.

Satoru’s hands slide up your back, the warmth of his palms seeping through the fabric of your shirt as he deepens the kiss, tilting his head just slightly to the side to get closer, to feel more of you. His mouth moves against yours in a slow, languid dance, as though he’s content to take his time, exploring each second, each shift in the way your lips meet. His fingers curl into the material of your shirt, gripping just enough to hold you in place, but not with any force—just enough to keep you tethered to him.

You respond in kind, your arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer still, your lips parting slightly to allow him deeper access. The kiss remains slow, unhurried, but with each passing second, the intensity builds. His tongue traces the edge of your lips before slipping between them, the warmth of him flooding your senses as you lose yourself in the sensation. The room around you seems to disappear, the dim lights and soft shadows fading into the background as the kiss becomes the center of everything.

Your fingers thread into the soft strands of his hair, pulling gently, and you feel a low hum rumble in his chest in response. It sends a shiver down your spine, the sound of his contentment deepening the connection between you both. There’s a sense of playfulness still, but it’s mingled with something deeper, more real. The curiosity you both had about what might happen has been replaced with a quiet certainty—this is happening, and neither of you wants it to stop.

The kiss grows deeper, more insistent, but it never loses that lazy, slow rhythm you’ve both settled into. It’s as if you’re both savoring every second, every brush of lips and hands, letting the moment stretch as long as possible without rushing into anything too fast.

You tilt your head, responding to the way his mouth moves against yours, your body molding against his as you press closer, feeling the heat radiate from him. His scent, his presence, his touch—all of it overwhelms your senses, drowning out everything else but the two of you standing here, exploring this new territory with slow, deliberate care.

His hands tighten on your hips as the kiss deepens further, his tongue brushing against yours in a lazy, teasing way that makes your knees weaken just slightly. It’s like he’s tasting you, savoring the way your bodies move together, your breath mingling with his in the soft quiet of the room.

Finally, when the need for air becomes undeniable, you pull back just slightly, your lips still grazing his as you both catch your breath. The air between you feels charged, the soft hum of tension still simmering but not quite boiling over. You can feel the heat between your bodies, the way your breaths are still shallow, mingling in the small space between you.

Satoru’s forehead rests gently against yours, his breath warm against your lips, and you can feel the faintest smile tugging at his mouth. His hands remain at your hips, keeping you close, and though the kiss has ended for now, the connection between you hasn’t weakened.

His voice is low, almost a murmur, as he speaks against your lips. "That wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I came here tonight," he says, his tone teasing but soft, like he’s letting you in on a secret.

You smile, your fingers still tangled in his hair as you gently pull back just enough to look into his eyes. "What did you have in mind then?" you ask, your voice equally soft, your breath still shaky from the kiss.

Satoru chuckles, his thumb brushing lightly against your side. "Honestly? I don’t know anymore." There’s a softness in his gaze now, something far more genuine than the playful smirk he usually wears. "But I think I like where this is going."

You smile, feeling the warmth of his hands still resting on your hips, the way his body remains so close to yours. The lazy, intimate energy that had been simmering between you all night has deepened, but there’s no rush to push things further just yet. You both seem content to let this moment stretch, to keep testing the waters and seeing where it leads.

You pull back just slightly, your hands still resting on his shoulders as you tilt your head, giving him a teasing look. "So, you’re not regretting showing up unannounced?"

Satoru grins, his eyes glinting in the dim light as he shakes his head. "Regret? Nah, not my style."

You laugh softly, leaning into the warmth of his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palms. "Good," you murmur, your voice soft but playful. "Because I wasn’t exactly planning on this either… but I’m not complaining."

"I like this side of you," he says quietly, his voice low, the teasing edge tempered by something softer, more sincere. "The confidence, the way you take control. It's different."

You meet his gaze, your own smile growing as you feel the weight of his words settle between you. "Maybe you bring it out of me," you reply, your tone matching his, slow and curious.

Satoru’s grin softens into something warmer, more intimate. "Maybe I do." His hand moves to cup your cheek gently, his thumb brushing over your skin in a tender, lingering caress. "And maybe… we should see where this goes."

The question hangs in the air between you, but there’s no pressure, no rush. It’s an invitation, a gentle promise that you both have all the time in the world to explore whatever this is, at your own pace.

You smile, leaning into his touch, feeling the warmth of his hand on your skin, and you nod, your voice barely above a whisper as you say, "Yeah. Let’s see where this goes."

The night had stretched on, a slow, lazy rhythm that matched the soft hum of energy between you and Satoru. What began with teasing touches and lingering kisses had transitioned into something deeper, more intimate. The dim light, the quiet, the way the air seemed to hold only the two of you—it all added to the steady, unhurried exploration of each other. You could still feel the warmth of his hands on your skin, the soft brush of his lips on yours, the quiet laughter shared between more tender moments.

The details of the night blurred together, wrapped in the haze of half-whispered words and languid touches. The way he had pulled you closer, bodies fitting perfectly against one another as though you'd known each other in this way far longer than just one night. The warmth of his breath at your ear as he murmured something teasing, something that made your heart flutter and your skin tingle with anticipation. You had let yourself sink into the moment, the feeling of being wrapped up in him, of giving and receiving in a slow, steady rhythm.

And then the stillness afterward—the quiet between you as you lay together, breath steady, heartbeats calming. His arm had draped lazily over your waist, and your head had found a place on his chest, rising and falling with the rhythm of his breathing. There were no words, no need for explanations. The night had unfolded in a way that felt natural, as though it was meant to be.

Now, the morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting a warm, golden hue across the room. The air was still quiet, the city sounds outside muted and distant. You stirred slightly, feeling the sheets cool against your skin as you shifted. A soft hum escaped your lips as you blinked your eyes open, the remnants of sleep clinging to you.

Satoru was still beside you, lying on his back, one arm loosely thrown over his head, the other resting gently at his side. His silver hair caught the morning light, messy from sleep but somehow still perfect in that infuriatingly effortless way of his. His sunglasses were nowhere to be seen, and his eyes—those brilliant blue eyes—were closed, his expression soft and peaceful in the early light.

You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him like this, the usual confidence and cocky demeanor replaced with something more relaxed, more real. For a moment, you just watched him, the memory of the night before still fresh in your mind, the warmth of it settling over you like a blanket. It felt like a secret shared between the two of you, something just for you to hold onto.

Carefully, you shifted, slipping out of bed as quietly as you could, not wanting to disturb him just yet. The cool floor against your feet grounded you, bringing you fully into the present as you padded softly across the room. You found one of his shirts—something he must’ve discarded at some point in the night—and pulled it over your head, the fabric soft and warm, carrying the faint scent of him.

The room felt different in the morning light, the soft shadows from last night replaced with a golden glow. Everything felt quieter now, the intimacy of the night lingering in the air. You moved to the window, pulling the curtains back just slightly to let more light in, the city below beginning to wake up, though the world inside your room still felt like it was suspended in its own private moment.

Behind you, you heard the soft rustle of sheets, and when you turned back, Satoru had stirred. His eyes fluttered open, blinking against the light, and he stretched lazily, a small grin spreading across his face when he saw you standing there.

"Morning," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep but laced with that familiar teasing tone.

"Morning," you replied softly, leaning against the window frame, your smile mirroring his.

Satoru propped himself up on one elbow, the sheets pooling around his waist as he gave you a once-over, his grin widening when he noticed you wearing his shirt. "Looks good on you," he said, his voice still carrying that lazy, slow rhythm from the night before.

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. "Thought I’d steal it," you teased.

"By all means," he replied with a chuckle, stretching his arms above his head in a slow, languid motion, the muscles in his chest and shoulders shifting under the morning light. "It’s a good look."

There was something so easy about this moment—no awkwardness, no rush to define anything. Just the two of you, the intimacy of the night still hanging between you, soft and unspoken. Satoru leaned back against the headboard, his eyes lazily tracing your movements as you crossed the room, coming back toward the bed.

"You sleep okay?" you asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed, feeling the warmth of his body next to you even through the thin layer of sheets.

"Like a baby," he murmured, his grin softening as he reached out, his hand finding your knee and giving it a gentle squeeze. "You?"

You nodded, your smile growing as you thought back to the comfort of falling asleep next to him, the quiet after the slow, intimate dance you'd shared. "Better than I have in a while."

Satoru’s fingers trailed lazily up your thigh, his touch warm and unhurried, just like everything else about this morning. He seemed content to take his time, to let the quiet intimacy between you both linger in the air. His eyes held yours, a slow, knowing smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"Good," he murmured, his voice low and smooth, still carrying that lazy, teasing quality from the night before. "Though I wouldn’t mind a repeat performance if you’re up for it."

You laughed softly, shaking your head as you nudged him playfully. "You never change, do you?"

His grin widened, and he gave a small shrug, his hand sliding down your leg before coming to rest on the bed beside him. "What can I say? I’m consistent."

The lightness in his voice made you smile, and you leaned down, brushing a soft kiss against his lips before pulling back and standing again. "Let’s start with coffee first, shall we?"

Satoru let out a dramatic sigh, flopping back onto the bed with an exaggerated groan. "Fine. But only because you make it sound tempting."

As you moved toward the small kitchenette, you could still feel the warmth of his gaze on you, his presence filling the room even in the quiet of the morning. The night before had been unexpected, yes—but somehow, it felt like the natural progression of whatever had been brewing between you for so long. And as the morning stretched on, with the scent of coffee beginning to fill the air, you couldn’t help but feel like this was only the beginning of something even more exciting.

Something worth exploring.

notes: i'm so sorry this is this long - but i had to keep writing uahdsuhudsh

©apollogeticx ⋆ all rights reserved.

[schlatt-love-bot]

I NEED more Schlatt smut😫 you write it so good. Ive seen hc's that Schlatt would call reader Momma or Ma, both in a sexual and non sexual way. Think we can do somthing with that?👀

Absolutely I think we can do something with that! Just thinking about Schlatt grumbling out “momma” in bed….PHEW! I apologize, anon, for how long this took me to get out there, I honestly wanted it perfect before posting…here goes nothing! 

IF YOU ARE A MINOR, DO NOT CONTINUE READING! NSFW CONTENT!

“Old black water, keep on shinin’..” You hummed to yourself, dancing around the kitchen as you cleaned. The holidays had just passed, and you needed to do a deep clean of your and your boyfriend, Schlatt’s, shared kitchen, as it had seen so much action in the past few days—hosting dinners, cookie baking, pie making..the list goes on. That, plus, you were tired of seeing your holiday decorations up, it was almost February and all they were to you was a solemn reminder that the holidays had come and gone, and now you had to wait a whole year to enjoy the warm, fuzzy feelings they brought you once more. Schlatt had asked you to wait for him, knowing you would climb up on countertops you definitely shouldn’t in order to get things off the tops of the cabinets, but you didn’t listen to him. You wanted to surprise him with a nice, clean kitchen when he was done work for the day, and so there you stood on one of the countertops, winding up string lights and taking down pine garlands off the top of the cabinets, singing along to Black Water at a quiet level, as to not disturb Schlatt at work.

Little did you know, Schlatt had stood in the doorway to the kitchen for a good 5 or so minutes now, just watching you. Watching as you stood on the countertop, completely entranced by the music you were playing, dancing in your little pajama shorts and sleep shirt. He knew he should be pissed off at you for both not listening to him when he asked you to wait for him, as well as for not listening to him when he specifically asked you not to go climbing on countertops, but he couldn’t help himself from standing and enjoying the show you were putting on. Every so often, you would scoot-shuffle yourself in a way that made your shorts peek just enough that he began to develop a taste for what was now on view for him. 

“I’d like to hear some funky Dixieland, pretty mama come and take me by the hand!” You sang ever so slightly louder, standing on your tiptoes to reach a very tucked-back deer ornament you needed to grab to properly dust the tops of the cabinets before hoping off. As you reached, your socks betrayed you, causing you to slip, losing your balance and falling off the counter, heading to the tile below. You braced yourself for the impact…that never came. 

“Alright, pretty momma, you gotta start watchin’ yourself…what did I tell ya earlier?” Your cheeks flushed as you opened your eyes, realizing that you were not on the ground, but in fact in Schlatt’s arms, as he called you “momma.” A chill went down your spine, as Schlatt raised an eyebrow at your flushed expression. 

“What’s wrong, toots? Cat got your tongue?” He teased, shaking his head at your flustered state before he gently lowered your feet to the ground, his hands finding their familiar place on your hips. 

“Nothin’, baby…my bad.” You managed to say, shaking your head as you tried to clear your mind once your feet were firmly planted on the ground below. He let out a laugh, rubbing his thumbs against your hips before retorting. 

“Nothin’, really? I can tell something’s brewin’ in that pretty little head of yours. Spill…”

“Nothing, really, baby…just like the new nickname is all.” You admitted, cheeks burning a brighter shade of pink as his eyebrow cockily peaked on his face. 

“Liked bein’ called, momma, huh? I think I can use it more often for ya if ya’d like…” He said, teasingly, as he pulled your body closer to his. “Can’t believe you…not listenin’ to me, wagging your little ass up there on the counters…specifically what I told you not to, huh?” 

“Someone had to get it done around here…you’ve been too busy working to help me take down all the Christmas decorations, y’know.” You groaned, taking a step back to put the ornament still in your hands into the box, turning to face him again. “Too busy working to help with other needs too.” 

He hummed, cocking his head slightly before looking you up and down. 

“What typa needs are we talkin’, baby?” 

“Oh, pretty boy…you know exactly what type of needs.” You purred, slowly stepping closer to wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to you, so you’d be at the perfect spot to whisper in his ear. 

“I’ve been so needy for you, Jay…and you’ve been nowhere to be seen…doesn’t sound fun, does it?” Your warm breath on his ears sent a chill up and down his spine. Unable to speak, he shook his head, knowing exactly where you were going with all this. 

“Think it’s about time pretty boy gets punished, don’t you?” Your fingers lightly traced his jaw, before gently bringing his face to look at yours. 

“Yes, ma…” He said, his voice no louder than a whisper, as you smiled. 

“Good boy…now…take us to the bedroom, hmm?” Almost immediately, Schlatt stood tall, wrapping your legs swiftly around his waist, not wasting any time by practically sprinting to the bedroom while keeping your legs locked around him. You let out a giggle, clearly you weren’t the only one who was feeling a bit hungry and eager.

Once inside your bedroom, he instinctively plopped you down on the bed, hungrily connecting your lips, needing to feel your tongue against his with a groan. You laughed, slowly disconnecting his head from yours with a tug of his hair, looking at how swollen and desperate his lips looked from not even a full minute of making out. 

“Pretty boy…I think you’ve forgotten who’s in control tonight, huh?” His eyes widened, a blush spreading across his cheeks. 

“Sorry, (Y/N)…not used to all this…” You chuckled, ruffling his hair slightly before guiding him to sit down on the bed, hands slowly traveling down his chest to the hem of his shirt, playing with it in your fingertips slightly before returning your gaze to his hungry eyes. 

“It’s okay, baby..I know. Not used to seeing this side of me…but you’ve gotta pay for just how neglected you’ve left me lately..” You slowly began to peel his shirt off, admiring the body you loved oh so much before beginning to plant a trail of kisses against his collarbones. He hummed at the sensation, not used to being on the receiving end of all this affection…but he couldn’t deny that it definitely felt good. He brought his hands down to his pants, beginning to unbutton them as you grabbed them, forcing him to stop with a groan. 

“Nope…at my pace, baby. Not yours… keep your hands to yourself, and this will be a better experience for both of us.” You said, returning to his collarbones, leaving a trail of wet, sloppy kisses and a mixture of scattered hickeys, some in not so noticeable areas, others…were definitely going to be seen. He groaned watching you, knowing you were really going to drag this one out. You giggled against his skin, your hands trailing up and down his sides as your mouth left his collarbones, trailing down his chest, meeting the start of his happy trail. His breath hitched, as you lifted your face up, looking up at him. 

“What do you say, pretty boy?” 

“Fuck…please…” 

“Please, what, baby? Use your words…” 

“Fuck…momma please…need your mouth on my cock, like…now.” He said, the words sheepishly leaving his mouth…he wasn’t so used to being wrapped around your fingertips like this. You hummed against his skin, pressing a kiss to the top of his happy trail once more, looking back up at him. 

“Say it like you mean it, big guy. What do you want me to do?” He hissed, watching your mouth reconnect with the sensitive skin of his lower belly, nipping at it to leave a little mark of love for only he and you to remember later. 

“Momma, please…need you to suck me off, bad!” His head went back into the pillows, eliciting a giggle from you as you swiftly licked your tongue from the top of his happy trail down to where his jeans sat, already unbuttoned due to his prior impatience. He squirmed under your touch, a string of profanities leaving his lips. 

“Good boy…sounds like you really need me, hmm?” You purred, pulling his jeans down to see his member already rock hard, tucked in a way that the head of his member was practically sticking out of the leg hole of his boxers, glistening already with precum. 

“Mmm…looks like somebody was excited…just as needy as I am, aren’t you, pretty boy?” You said, making a quick lick at his tip before palming him through his boxers, earning yourself a throaty moan from the man lying under you. 

“Fuck, please…need you..” His voice weakly trailed off, his senses becoming easily overwhelmed by just how badly he needed to feel your warm mouth engulfing his length. You laughed at how much he was squirming under your light touch, nodding your head in understanding as you finally peeled his boxers off his body, his cock quick to spring up, slapping him in the tummy as he left a bit of his leaking precum there. You hummed, standing on the edge of the bed as you licked your lips, watching as his cock twitched, waiting for any sort of sensation to come from you. 

“Such a pretty sight…my pretty, handsome boy. Don’t get to see you like this under me that often, huh?” He groaned, picking his head up slightly to look at you. 

“Please…need to feel you…” You hummed, crossing your arms slightly as you gave him a knowing look. 

“Please, please, ma…need your pretty lips around my cock…” You smiled, hearing those words sent a chill up your own spine as you slowly went to action, leaning yourself above him, lightly breathing on his hardened member, watching it twitch under your breath as he groaned above you. 

“Such a fuckin’ tease…” he whispered, praying you hadn’t heard. You smirked, rubbing your finger against his red tip, looking up towards him. 

“What did you say, pretty boy?” His eyes widened, feeling as your fingers stopped rubbing and began just holding steady pressure against his throbbing member, causing him to groan. 

“Nothing…nothing, please..!” He squirmed, needing to feel more than the steady pressure you were teasing him with, causing you to giggle. You shook your head, applying more pressure down on his throbbing tip, causing him to hiss. 

“Don’t be a brat, pretty boy…won’t take care of you if you keep actin’ up…” You muttered, staring him in his half-hooded eyes, to see whether or not he understood what you were asking of him. 

“Sorry…sorry, momma…won’t do it again, promise.” He whispered, his eyes pleading for you to do something, anything to give him some pleasure. You hummed, satisfied by his begging, nodding your head as you brought your hand back down to his hardened member, slowly beginning to stroke him from the base of his cock all the way to his tip. He hissed at the touch, lightly bucking his hips up, causing you to laugh at his needy state. 

“Pretty boy…watch yourself…I’ll stop right now if you don’t stop fuckin’ my hand…” He groaned, rolling his eyes as his head went back to the pillows under him, needless to say, he wasn’t used to the dominance currently dripping from you. A blush began to spread from his ears to his cheeks, making you bite your lip, quickening your strokes. 

“Look at you…such a mess in my hand…only my mess, yeah? You look so hot when you’re this submissive, baby…” You hummed, your eyes hooding over with your own lust…you began to feel your own needs growing bigger and bigger. He moaned at the combination of the dirty words leaving your lips and your quickened movements, his mind going numb. You smiled down at him, by how much his cock was twitching in your hand, you could tell he was close. Swiftly, you took your hand off his member, leaving him unsatisfied. 

“What…? What the fuck!” He whined, picking his head up off the pillows slightly, looking straight at you. You giggled, slowly climbing back up his body, your face hovering a few inches above his, a smirk adorning your face.

“What, thought I’d let you cum that quickly, baby boy? You need a taste of your own medicine…how long do you think I’ve been waiting for this myself?” You whispered into his ear, nibbling at his earlobe when you were finished. He groaned, rolling his eyes at you. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, ma….please..! I promise I’ll…I’ll do better…fulfill your needs…I…I..just..” He droned on, panting slightly as his mind couldn’t work hard enough to complete a single sentence. 

“You just, what?” 

“Fuck…need to cum, momma…please!” You smiled, pressing a kiss to his lips, deepening it slightly to taste him, gauge just how badly he needed you. He eagerly deepened the kiss with his tongue…giving you just a slight idea of how badly he needed you, your touch, your taste…you groaned into his mouth. Pulling away from him, you continued your trail of teasing kisses and nips all the way down his neck, across his collarbones, down his chest, back down to his happy trail, making eye contact with him once again. He groaned, knowing exactly what you were going to do, his cock twitching in anticipation. 

You licked from the bottom of his belly button down to the base of his cock, breathing heavily on it. He groaned at you once more, resisting his inner urge to lace his fingers in your hair and pull you down onto his cock. 

“Hmmm…I don’t know if you need me…what do you think, Jay?” 

“Fuck…I need your…your mouth on my cock..so bad, so bad ma…” He muttered out, eyes watching you full of a mix of anticipation and lust that drove you wild. You smiled, pleased with his answer.

“Good boy…now you’re gettin’ it.” You praised, quickly and swiftly taking his cock into your mouth, hearing his moans like music to your ears as you continued to take as much of his length in your mouth as you could. Slowly, you were reaching your choking point, causing you to wrap your hand around the rest of his length that wouldn’t fit. 

Keeping your eyes on him, you began to slowly bob your head up and down, using your tongue to add friction to the underside of his cock. He let out a low growl, instinctively bucking his hips up slightly.

“Fuck…s-sorry, momma…can’t help it. You…you feel so good..!” He grumbled, his eyes unable to open from the pleasure he was experiencing. You were enjoying just how much of a mess he was becoming underneath your touch, quickening your pace as you hummed against his hardened member. After bobbing for only a few moments, you felt him begin to twitch in your mouth…all the pent up frustration from your early ended handjob were shining through, he was close to release. You gave him a look, patting his thigh, a signal that whenever he was ready, he could cum. He damn near lost his mind at that moment, a string of profanities mixed with moans. 

“Fuck, momma! Gonna…gonna…!” He couldn’t get his last warning out before he began to paint the inside of your mouth and cheeks white with his seed, cursing out in a moan as he felt his release. Your cheeks were pleasantly full as you felt some of his seed slowly trickle down your throat, continuing your motions on his cock to make sure you got every last drop of his juices out from him. Overstimulated, he muttered nonsense to himself as his head dropped to his pillow one last time, panting hard at how intense his orgasm truly was. 

You popped your mouth off his cock with an audible “pop,” looking him in the eye as you swallowed every last drop of his seed in your cheeks. He smiled, eyes glazed over as he watched you join him on the pillows, still caught up in the high feeling he had gotten from his release. 

“Damn…maybe I need to call you ma more often…that was so fuckin’ hot, babe.” He panted, lazily looking over at you as you laid with a smirk on your face. 

“It was pretty damn hot, but…momma has some needs that need to be fulfilled, hmm?” 

With that sentence alone, his hunger was reignited in his eyes, as he sprung back to life, eager and more than willing to show his momma just how badly he appreciated her, and just how badly he needed to taste her, care for her.

[harrietswriting]

Can you do a Johnny Cade x fem reader where it’s basically the drive in scene and he defends her from dally? Thank you!!!

an: Thank you for the request!! I used Marely for the friend's name. This is 1.3k words... I got carried away. Also, I literally took out my copy of the outsiders to try to make the scene semi-accurate

Tw: Dallas😥, swearing, cigarette mentioned, not fully proof-read(sorry) warning for Dallas again

Johhny Cade x fem!reader

He defends you from Dally at the Drive-in

"Come on! We gotta find seats before all the good ones are taken!" Marely tells you eagerly as she pulls you away from her car.

"Why can't we just stay in your car? It's freezing out here." You hug your arms around yourself as the two of you walk towards the seats.

She shrugs. "Can't meet cute guys in my car."

You sigh. "I mean, you're not wrong." Marely smiles. The two of you don't have to walk around much longer before you find some seats with a good view. You seat down next to her.

The movie was a few minutes in and you were trying to pay attention and catch up to what's happening. You almost don't notice when three boys sit behind the two of you, but you definitely noticed when one of them started talking real dirty, real loud. You had a feeling whoever it was was trying to get some reaction out of you and Marely, so you tried to ignore it. You did however look at Marely from the side of your eye, trying to communicate "ew, what the hell?" She looked back and you could tell she was not loving it either. Then someone's feet were put on your chair, and you had it.

You turn around and are not surprised when you see the infamous prick, Dallas Winston. "Excuse me, get your feet off my chair." You made sure to express disgust.

"Who's gonna make me?" He smirks, not moving his feet. This asshole-

Marely turns around now. "Leave us alone, will ya?" She's not having it either. You glance over at the other boys he's with, hoping they don't start too, but they don't look the type. One likes real young, and the other, gosh he's cute, looks kinda timid. You look back at the hood with his feet still on your chair.

"Yeah, be nice and leave us alone." You add.

He grinned. "I'm never nice, baby. Want a coke?"

The audacity! "Oh, go to hell, hood!" You say angrily.

Surprisingly, he actually got up and walked away. You look back at the other boys. "Don't you guys start too," you warn them.

"Oh- we weren't gonna!" The younger looking one says. The other boy nods and adds, "sorry bout him."

"Oh, it's fine." Right before you can turn back around and enjoy the movie, Marely decides to be social.

"Say, what are your names?" She asks them, and suddenly it feels rude to look away.

"Ponyboy Curtis." The younger one says.

"Aw that's cute, and really weird. I love it." Marely smiles. You don't waste time thinking about why anyone would name their child that because you're too focused on learning the name of the cute boy.

"I'm Johnny Cade." He says. You smile.

"How old are you ...guys?" Phew, great save there on your part.

"I'm 14 and Johnny's 16." Ponyboy answers.

Hehe that's an appropriate age for you to date.

The four of you talk for a little, well, mainly Ponyboy and Marely. You learn that the four of you go to the same school and learn more than you'd ever need to know about a stranger's brothers. Wow, Ponyboy was talkative, but that's okay.

Unfortunately, this fun chatting is cut short when Dallas comes back with two cokes in his hands. He hands one the Marely who, surprisingly takes it and drinks it. You look at her in disbelief. She shrugs.

"This might cool you off." He hands one to you as well then sits down next to you. He lights a cigarette and winks at you.

So, naturally, you do what any rational person would do and dump the coke on him. "This might cool you off! Stop being a jerk and I'll cool off too."

He, unfortunately, doesn't seem fazed. He wipes off his face with his jacket sleeve and grins dangerously. "Fiesty, huh? That's how I like 'em." He starts to put his arm around you but Johnny reaches out and stops him.

"Leave her alone, Dal," he says.

"Huh?" He's mad.

"You heard me, leave her alone." Johnny repeats. You can't help the bit of heat that rushes to your cheeks as you watch him.

Dallas scoffs and stands up, angrily walking off with his fists shoved in his pockets. Later, loser.

You look back at Johnny. "Thank you." You say as sweetly as you can.

"Oh, you're welcome." He's real shy. And that's adorable.

"Why don't y'all come sit up here with us? I'm hurting my neck lookin back like this." Marely suggests.

The boys smile and excitedly look at eachother then agree. As they move to your row, you're hoping that Johnny sits next to you. He does (yay!) and Ponyboy sits between the two of you.

You smile at Johnny when he sits down, and he smiles back. Boy, did you get butterflies.

Suddenly a hand comes down on Johnny's shoulder, paired with a deep voice saying: "Okay, greasers, you've had it!"

You get scared for a moment before you hear laughing and Ponyboy says, "Glory, Two-Bit, don't scare us like that!"

Two-Bit sits down next to Marely. "These your grandmas?" He jokes with a grin on his face.

"Great aunts actually." Marely says. Two-Bit laughs. You glance at Johnny again, and he's already looking at you. So, you blush and quickly look away, then proceed to mentally flip the fuck out. Then, you get a fantastic idea.

"Hey, you guys want anything from the concession stand?" You ask Marely, her new crush, and Ponyboy.

"Yes! Another coke please." Marely smiles.

Two-Bit digs in his back pocket for change. "You mind getting a popcorn for me and Pony?"

"Sure." You smile and graciously accept his 2 quarters and dime.

"Dime's for her coke." He says.

You smile and glance and Marely. "Alright." Then you look back at Johnny. "Will you come with me?"

He seems a little surprised, but he nods. "Yeah, sure."

"Great. C'mon." You stand up and so does he. Together, you walk to the concession stand.

The two of you make small talk as you walk over there. You tell him a bit about yourself and he tells you that he's been friends with Ponyboy, Dallas, and Two-Bit a long time. You keep talking as you stand in line, and as you grab the popcorn, as he grabs a coke and hands it to you, as he grabs another soft drink, and as you pay, as he pays, as you walk back to your friends, as you hand them the coke and popcorn, as you sit back down, and as he hands you the soft drink he bought, the same kind you had mentioned liking while you'd been talking.

"Oh, you didn't have to." You smile happily.

"Yeah.. but I wanted to." He smiles back bashfully.

You look at the bottle in your hands, smile still on your face, as you try to build up the courage to make some sort of move.

You shiver because it has only gotten more chilly out. Yes, you've been freezing this whole time, though, Johnny had been distracting you from that. He must notice you shiver, because he takes of his denim jacket, hesitate for a moment, then puts it over your shoulders.

You blush then look at him and smile. "Thank you, Johnny."

"Don't mention it. Um," he swallows, "would you ever want to.. hang out sometime?" He asks nervously. He looks up from his hands to meet your eyes.

Your cheeks heat up for the millionth time as butterflies swarm your stomach. You nod.

"I'd love to."

an: guys did I eat? 😋 this took over 3 hours what the flip. Please send more requests, lovies!!!

[perlukafarinn]

Okay so I have a few experts I need to share from the story "Surprise!" by Nichelle Nichols, published in The New Voyages II in 1978.

It's about the crew throwing Kirk a surprise party, and Spock running around trying to keep Kirk from finding out (at Uhura's request), and it is bonkers. Kirk and Spock flirt so much, both with each other and also with Uhura (get it, girl!). Let's just get into it...

Talking about birthday spankings on the second page of the story. Nichelle is not messing around.

Then a couple of pages later, Kirk is teasingly asking Spock to tuck him in and Spock actually teases him back and then Kirk has to back down because he's not sure Spock wouldn't follow through.

Afterwards, Spock is all "phew, resisted that temptation" and talking about how his Vulcan decorum is "none too secure" when it comes to Kirk and this was published in 1978.

And then.... oh boy, I have to include this entire page and a half. I have to!

(Scott's eyes "did not even widen" what fresh gay hell is this)

I do not wanna know what mental gymnastics Spock performed to go from "must distract Kirk" to picking him up and carrying him around but I'm sure it was all very logical.

(Also, "Kirk whispered silkenly"? Nichelle actually writes Kirk as not only very flirty in this story but kind of seductive in an almost demure sort of way. I'm very into it)

Then later, Uhura is in Spock's cabin for plot related reasons, while Kirk is in the shared bathroom showering. And then for whatever reason

Kirk enters Spock's cabin in nothing but a towel, still dripping wet from his shower. Is this a common occurrence????

Next is my favorite bit (aside from Spock's completely necessary and flawlessly logical decision to pick Kirk up and carry him around like his newlywed bride, of course)

Kirk and Spock are in Spock's cabin and Kirk thinks he hears something in the next room. It's Uhura and co, but since Kirk isn't supposed to know about the surprise party juuust yet, Spock goes full gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss on his ass

Spock knows exactly which buttons to push to most effectively distract Kirk. Kirk's actually blushing and I am going insane

(1978!!!)

That is a direct reference to Amok Time. Nichelle Nichols, you beautiful genius.

But we're not quite done!

I just. I can't get over how obvious this is. Kirk is blushing and bashfully looking at Spock over the rim of his glass and flirting like there's no tomorrow. Insane. Insane!

In short, thank you, Nichelle Nichols for your service and thank you @1shirt2shirtredshirtdeadshirt for bringing this story to my attention.

[crosshairlovebot]

bewitching mr. batchbury (part two) / crosshair x f!reader

pairing: crosshair x f!reader

description: after your encounter in the greenhouse, the distance between you and mr. batchbury remains...until a little bravery finally reveals everything - and i mean everything.

REGENCY AU

word count: 10,887 (pHEW!)

warnings: NSFW 18+ explicit sexual content. loss of vriginity (f). p in v s*x. oral s*x (f receiving). lots of kissing everywhere. handj*bs. f*ngering. gr*nding. unprotected s*x.

the long awaited part two of regency crosshair is here! thank you so much for your support on part one!! i got v carried away but i enjoyed writing this sm, so i hope you enjoy reading it <3

also posted on ao3. feedback is welcomed, reblogs are appreciated. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

PART TWO

Since the night of the Across the Stars ball; the night where Cross—Mr. Carlisle Batchbury had seared his lips into your skin and irrevocably changed everything between you, you had not known a single moment of peace. You had returned home early that night, giving your apologies to the other Batchbury’s as you feigned a headache, and confined yourself to your room for the remainder of the night and the entirety of the next day.

You couldn’t face him again.

You’d heard the Batchbury’s return home from the ball, the noise of the carriage and their chatter travel up to your open window as they alighted. You strained to hear Mr. Batchbury’s voice but were not surprised he remained silent. You tossed and turned all night, the feel of his lips still ghosting over your skin, the way he held you against the hard panes of his torso still heavy on your body.

You had pulled the blanket up under your chin and squeezed your eyes shut, tears pricking them, mourning the fact that your guard had lowered so spectacularly that you had taken liberties where you shouldn’t of – given into the fantasy of being desired by Mr. Batchbury and being held gently after enduring his scathing words.

How could you go on? Knowing your feelings were known by him, and he could throw them back at your face without warning?

But you’d worried unnecessarily. You’d eventually come down from your hiding, entering the drawing room to see the entire Batchbury clan present, including Mr. Batchbury, who sat at the writing table as he always did, his back to you. The sight of his grey hair making your heart leap. Meg exclaimed your name and ran over to you, embracing you warmly.

“I’m so happy you’re feeling better,” she’d said into your shoulder, squeezing you. You saw Mr. Batchbury shoulders stiffen upon hearing your name.

You watched as he slammed his notebook closed, standing up. You took in his tall stature and fire eyes encased in a scowl – somehow looking handsomer since your last encounter in his casual attire of breeches and boots, white shirt and waistcoat.

Life truly was never fair.

You swallowed as his long strides crossed the room towards you. You thought he was going to stop, maybe say something to you. But he didn’t. He only brushed your shoulder and swiftly exited the room without so much as a word or glance your way.

You pressed your lips together as you blinked the prickle of tears away. The hurt form his retreat only confirmed that your decision to pull away had been the right one. That kiss really had never been more than a cruel joke for him.

Ignoring the pang in your chest, you pulled your focus to Meg, asking her if she enjoyed her first ball. She furrowed her brow, eyes flicking between you and her departing brother with concern before she launched into her retelling.

From that moment on, Mr. Batchbury’s fiery hostility had become iced avoidance, immediately vacating rooms when you entered them, the glare creased between his brows evermore present, if not deepened. You wondered why he was acting like that, when you were the one who had been hurt by his actions. He was the one who flipped between the acidic tongue and the one that caressed your collarbones, only to return to treating you with contempt, not you.

It angered you.

He’d held you so gently, words spoken so softly, and kissed you with such passion…you couldn’t stop thinking about it no matter how hard you tried. You dreamed about it, his hands moving all over you as they followed his lips, the contrast between his wooden one and the smooth skin of his palm alighting your insides. You’d wake up flustered and embarrassed, angry as wet pooled between your legs.

But you expected this behaviour from him – you always knew after he kissed you, he would return to his caustic demeanour, the gentleness he had exhibited only a brief game of pretend.

But it didn’t mean it hurt any less.

His family seemed to notice something had shifted between you, but did not pry. Meg would look between you both with a frown, trying to decipher it all, but you always redirected any of her curious glances into her studies. She would huff and let you, but you could tell not asking you about it was making her all fidgety as the need to know only grew as the weeks went on.

Hunter watched you with a working gaze, seeming to read your feelings of angst as plainly as words in a book, but he never mentioned anything to you directly. Wrecker paid no mind to any tension and if he did, always tried to dissipate it with a joke or diverting tale. And Tech was far too caught up in his encyclopedias to even consider questioning you, on the verge of a breakthrough in his research paper.

You were grateful for their silence.

But you could not escape Mr. Batchbury no matter how hard to tried to avoid him, and he, you.

You entered the library one afternoon, and upon finding it empty, breathed a sigh of relief. Mr. Batchbury perpetually hid in here, away from everyone. But you’d wanted to swap out your book for another for days. You made your way over to the shelves on the far side of the oak-panelled room to return your book when you passed the writing desk. You paused beside it when you saw the pages of a notebook splayed open, ink drying.

You lifted the side gently to see the familiar red bound leather.

Mr. Batchbury’s notebook.

You peered over the pages, and felt your lips itch to smile at his neat, practised script, knowing he’d taught himself to write with his non-dominant hand. You let your smile drop, not allowing yourself to be caught up in him again as you read the first line.

With cheeks flushed in anger, I only grew fonder.

“What are you doing?”

The voice was all too familiar, hissed with such venom you startled and turned towards the door of the library. You watched as Mr. Batchbury stalked towards you, eyes ablaze with a fury you’d never seen him behold.

“Nothing,” you supplied, though it was obvious you had been reading his writing.

He slammed a hand over the pages and roughly closed his book. “That is private.”

“I’m sorry,” you said with sincerity, though his prose echoed in your brain. With cheeks flushed in anger, I only grew fonder. What was he…?

“Are you?” Mr. Batchbury spat at you, and you immediately stood taller, the beginning of repartee between you easily recognisable.

It was almost a relief, to have the familiar rhythm and emotion of conversation directed towards you instead of the cold glowering and hiding away from each other. A welcome reprieve from the frosty front he’d been presenting you since the greenhouse. His eyes bored into yours and his tall frame towered over you. To have him look directly at you with his coffee-coloured eyes, instead of not meeting your gaze, made your heart race and your stomach swoop with butterflies.

You stepped towards him, eyes narrowed as the words hardened your jaw. “Am I what?”

“Sorry,” he gritted out through his teeth and your breath hitched.

Silence befell you both and the unspoken hung between you heavily. Anger flared through you. What were you supposed to be sorry for? What did he want you to be sorry for? He was the one who should apologise for how he treated you and continued to. For how he let you believe for a moment he didn’t hate you.

I never once hated you, he had said between kisses, the words a caress on your hot skin as you lost yourself in his touch, in his tenderness.

And yet here he was, berating you for daring to look over his notebook.

You narrowed your eyes and took a step back. “I told you I was done playing this game.”

“Then answer the question.”

You scoffed. “Like you answer all of mine.”

He continued to look at you, port wine-stained eyes searching your face silently. Your own eyes travelled over his face and landed on lips you knew were soft and coaxing and heavenly. You shook your head. Your feelings for him were still so strong, and despite everything, you longed to be kissed by him again; to be held; to receive his gentle words.

Why was he like this? Why was he like this when he knew how you thought of him?

Why was he like this when he didn’t have to be? When he’d showed you otherwise?

“What do you want from me?” you whispered, and Mr. Batchbury’s eyes widened at your words.

His lips pressed together and you watched his usual stoic face cycle through several emotions you could not place, minuscule changes in the lines around his eyes and mouth the only clue of it happening.

“Crosshair, have you seen—oh. My apologies”

Both of you looked to the door of the library to see Tech standing there with a large stack of encyclopedias in his arms. Mr. Batchbury immediately left your side and went over to his brother, taking the books from him carefully and holding onto them.

“You shouldn’t be carrying these by yourself. Where’s your cane?” His voice was the most normal you’d heard in weeks, with a gentle kind of reprimand that made you flinch in surprise at how quickly his tone changed.

“I can manage,” Tech said, walking with a pronounced limp, but it did not seem to hinder him. “Have you seen the book on Entomology in the Outer Rim Territories? I require it for a reference in my Oxford submission.”

“I believe Wrecker is currently using it as a doorstop,” you supplied, watching as both pairs of eyes moved towards you. Tech nodded happily as Mr. Batchbury flicked his gaze away from you.

“Thank you, I’ll head to his chambers once I return these to their shelves,” Tech tried to grab them from his brother, who only angled them away from him.

“I’ll take care of that. Go and find your cane before you hurt yourself,” Mr. Batchbury ordered gently, and you felt your entire chest simultaneously expand and crumble.

“Very well. Thank you, Crosshair,” Tech smiled at his brother, pushing his wired glasses up his nose before bidding you farewell and exiting the room.

You heard Tech’s uneven footsteps grow quieter as he continued down the hall, leaving both of you alone again. You took in the sight of Mr. Batchbury with the encyclopedias in his arms. He cared so much, loved so much – this was the Mr. Batchbury you had fallen for, the one you continued to yearn for. The one who was attentive to those he loved, who was gentle and shouldered burdens. He was still there.

Just not for you.

You suddenly felt overcome with the urge to cry and you knew you had to get out of the library as soon as possible. You didn’t want to cry in front of him.

“I’ll just, uh—” you stumbled over your words, throat thick with emotion as you felt yourself begin to flush, eyes filling with tears. You ducked your head and quickly walked in the direction of the door. You heard Mr. Batchbury say your name as you passed his shoulder, and you turned hastily.

“I’m sorry, sir. But for what it’s worth, your writing is beautiful,” you told him, a stray tear falling which you hurriedly wiped away as you resumed your path out of the room. You heard you name once more but you dared not turn around again as you left the library, your book still in your hand.

Later that week, you sat at your dressing table readying yourself for bed when you heard a rustle, and something slide on the wooden floor. You turned around and frowned at a folded piece of parchment on the floor near your door. You pushed your chair back and walked carefully over to the paper. You toed it with your slipper before crouching to pick it up. The red wax seal was imprinted with the Batchbury crest and your frown deepened. What could it be?

You flipped it over, seeing your name in neat, practiced cursive on the front. Your eyes widened. Was that…?

You hastily unstuck the seal as carefully as you could, unfolding the page and turning it right side up, your chest heaving and heart pounding as you read the words.

With cheeks flushed in anger, I only grew fonder

Of the way she tarried with me

For she was the only one who dared say

The truth of her heart

And yet the pain of knowing

Of how she despised me was

A truth I could not change

No matter of the truth

Of my own

You read the words over and over again. Eyes tracing every curve of the letters, every indentation of the quill; of where it’s scratched against the grain of the paper. You felt your heartbeat increase, heat flooding your body as Mr. Batchbury’s prose settled in your mind. You ran a finger up the left side of the paper, which showed that he’d carefully torn the page from his notebook – torn straight from his notebook and given to you.

No matter the truth of my own.

You felt like you were going to collapse so you moved to the bed and sat down.

You smoothed the paper over your knees. You didn’t know what to make of it. All you knew was that Mr. Batchbury had given you a piece of his precious notebook, a piece of the inner workings of his mind. He wrote poetry – poetry that was about you. You thought back to all the times you’d tried to read over his shoulder, and how secretive and defensive he’d gotten about it. You thought back to the time when you found him in the windowsill, all those weeks ago, how even then he’d scurried away when questioned about it.

You felt your chest tighten.

I have never once hated you.

You covered your mouth with your hand and clutched the poem to your chest.

Now, in the Kenobi’s ballroom, a week since the poem had slid under your door, and several since the greenhouse, you watched Mr. Batchbury. His coffee eyes met yours and stayed there, unmoving. You took another sip of your champagne, your nerves rising and he mirrored your movements with his glass of brandy. You watched his lips on the glass, the way the corners carefully inched upwards as he looked at you. You quickly looked away and felt your entire body flush.

Something had indeed shifted since the poem have been delivered to your room. Mr. Batchbury no longer avoided you; vacating rooms upon your entrance ceased, and instead he seemed to gravitate closer to you, gaze locking on your every movement. You would catch his eye and watch the way they seemed to gleam with something. Anticipation, perhaps? Knowing? There was an air in his gaze you hadn’t seen before. It only made him look more handsome – devilishly so.

A cotillion filled the ballroom, and you tore your gaze away from Mr. Batchbury to watch Meg dance with Hunter. Hunter looked at his sister with so much love and pride, you couldn’t help but smile at them.

It was the final ball of the season, and all the Batchbury’s were in attendance tonight. Wrecker had somehow managed to worm his way into a conversation with Prince Skywalker and Queen Amidala, much to the chagrin of the snobbier members of the ton, but the Prince and Queen were in rapture. Wrecker’s charm was infectious, and they were not immune. Tech had wandered off to the Kenobi’s library, escorted by a Viscount by the name of Codius, or Cody, who will be one of his peers at Oxford next semester.

That left you alone in the ballroom, making eyes with Mr. Batchbury.

You smiled into your glass. There were certainly worse ways to spend an evening.

You had not yet had the courage to approach him about the poem, all your nerve flying out the window and joining the birds migrating south for the winter whenever you even as much as thought about it.

His poem had been so…honest. And you could not imagine how much courage it would’ve taken for him to slide it under the crack in your door.

So why could you not find your own?

The dance came to an end, and you clapped lightly as best you could with one occupied hand. You watched Meg and Hunter embrace and smiled again. You didn’t know what would happen when the season ended; whether you would return to your parents in the country or remain with the Batchburys as Meg’s companion. You hoped it was the latter, for reasons not only pertaining to your fondness of the young blonde woman who’d you’ve come to think of as a little sister; even if you trembled when you so much as felt her grey-haired brother’s eyes on you.

In the corner of your eye, you saw a familiar frame glide next to you and your entire body went on high alert, nerves preening and chest tightening. You slid a glance to your right as Mr. Batchbury had yet to announce himself. He looked handsome tonight, as he always did, in black trousers, boots and tailcoat with a deep red patterned satin waistcoat. With his white shirt, he wore a cravat similarly coloured to his waistcoat, but a little darker, closer to that of his port wine stain.

 You were blameless in the failed quest to find the courage to speak to him when he stood looking like that.

It was then he cleared his throat. “Would you care to dance?”

You snapped your head towards him, meeting his gaze with a shocked blink. “Dance?”

The corner of Mr. Batchbury’s mouth lifted slightly. “Yes. A dance.”

Was he really asking you? After last time? After all that’s passed between you? “With me?”

Mr. Batchbury averted his gaze, and you felt him begin to retreat. “Unless you do not want to.”

“No!” you said a little too quickly and a little too loudly. You closed your eyes and let out a breath in embarrassment, cheeks heating. You opened them again to see a lightness in Mr. Batchbury’s eyes. “I-I mean, I do want to.”

Mr. Batchbury gently took the glass from your hand and placed it on the tray of a server nearby before taking your hand. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest as you flexed your gloved fingers in his warm hand as he led you out onto the floor. His thumb ran across your knuckles gently before he let go, finding a place for you both and positioning yourselves opposite each other.

You studied his face. The furrow in his brow was there, but not nearly as strong as it had been these past few weeks. The lines of his angled face seemed…softer too, eyes not so hard and discerning.

You willed yourself to say something, and you took in a breath just as the music swelled. Both of you bowed and curtseyed before joining hands and turning once, switching sides. You held hands again and skipped one way, turning once more before skipping back. Mr. Batchbury was as fine a dancer as he was that very first time. And every time he held your hand, flesh or otherwise, you felt your whole body ignite with his touch. He was so tender in the way he held it, and you could not stop yourself from meeting his eyes. His discerning eyes stayed on yours and yours on his. You nearly missed the next step in the dance because you were too caught up in his gaze.

When you returned to the partnered portion of the dance, you knew this was your chance to say something; to bring up the poem. If you did it while you were dancing, there was less of a chance you’d lose your nerve. There was something else to occupy you, not just the mention of his gesture that still made your stomach somersault.

“Thank you,” you rushed out as you joined hands again, chests moving towards each other. You had to look up at him, heart pounding. “For the poem.”

Mr. Batchbury’s eyes widened a little, but he said nothing. You continued. “It was beautiful.”

Your bodies turned and you joined hands with the others, galloping in a circle once more. Mr. Batchbury’s hand was firm on yours and after a turn, you faced each other again.

“You’re welcome,” he said, his voice a little hoarse.

When you stepped together and then turned to switch sides, your foot got caught on the hem of your gown and you stumbled, gasping as you fell forward, gasping. Mr. Batchbury caught you before you went down, arms encircling your waist and pulling you towards him. You grabbed the sleeve of his coat and you both stood there for a moment, holding each other. Your faces were so close, noses almost touching. You could see the rough texture of his stubble and felt his hard torso press into yours, his body strong and solid against yours. You looked into his eyes, seeing every fiber of his irises and the dark lashes that eclipsed them when he blinked. His breath fanned your skin and if you leaned up just a little, your lips would touch. You longed to feel his lips on yours again, their soft caresses as they coaxed you closer to him. His words repeated in your mind.

No matter the truth of my own.

I have never once hated you.

The music came to a close and there was a smattering of applause, the sound bringing you back to the room and out from Mr. Batchbury’s captivating eyes. You found your footing, standing up properly and yet, neither of you let go of each other. You looked at your gloved hands on the sleeves of his coat and absently moved your thumbs against his upper arms. Mr. Batchbury’s hands on your waist remained there, never mind how improper it was. You didn’t care. You hoped they stayed there. To be this close to him again…well, it was wonderful.

“You…good?” Mr. Batchbury murmured lowly, his flesh hand flexing against the taffeta of your gown. Everyone had begun to move off the floor, but both of you did not move. You could only nod, your entire being completely encompassed with the feeling of being so close to Mr. Batchbury. You met his eyes and saw the way the crease in brow showed concern for you, not anger or contempt. You felt your chest expand and bloom with warmth for what you suspected, hoped, was the truth of his heart.

“Was your poem true?” The words tumbled out of you before you could stop them.

Mr. Batchbury’s eyes searched yours. “Which part?”

“No matter the truth of my own,” you recited back to him in a breath. You watched his expression soften, the lines around and between his eyes uncreased as his mouth slackened. You blinked up at him as he pressed his lips together.

“You memorised it?” you heard him murmur, like any more volume in your voices would shatter the bubble you’d both created. You nodded again. Mr. Batchbury’s breath hitched as his hold on you tightened. You watched his throat work as he swallowed before returning your gaze to his face. Did he just grow more beautiful?

As Mr. Batchbury nodded in response to your question, you felt your heart swell.

You had hoped and hoped, never did you truly believe.

“Mr. Batchbury…” you breathed, your eyes softening as you looked up at his stupidly handsome face. “You must know, I do not despise you and I never have.”

Mr. Batchbury’s eyes widened when you heard the clinking of a glass echo in the ballroom. Both you and Mr. Batchbury startled, turning towards the sound to see Duke Kenobi at the helm of the crowd, his glass in the air. You let each other go, suddenly remembering where you were and the amount of people watching on with interest. Your face flamed as you clasped your hands together. Mr. Batchbury sighed next to you, seemingly exasperated at the interruption.

“Dearest guests,” Duke Kenobi’s voice boomed through the room. “As we close another wonderful social season, I want to extend my deepest gratitude to you all for attending tonight…”

He continued on, but all you could focus on was Mr. Batchbury next to you and his response. His poem had been true; he had indeed grown fond of you, evident through not only his words, but his kisses and murmurings in the greenhouse all those weeks ago. But then why did he choose act so beastly towards you in those other moments?

Applause rippled through the ballroom, and you shook yourself out of the reverie and joined in. You looked up at Mr. Batchbury, whose pensive expression drew your breath in. What was he thinking about?

“Mr. Batchbury—” you began.

“Hey! Crosshair! Did you know Prince Skywalker’s friend, Prince Rex, is from our county?” Wrecker came bounding over, a sparkle of wonder in his eye. “He was adopted out from there and taken to the Kingdom of Kamino when he was a boy,” he continued.

“Fascinating,” Mr. Batchbury drawled dryly. You stifled a laugh. You couldn’t be mad at Wrecker, even if he had caused a second interruption to your much needed conversation.

“I know,” Wrecker bumped his shoulder against his brothers. Mr. Batchbury sneered at him, though Wrecker was unperturbed. “Anyway,” Wrecker said addressing both of you. “Hunter said it’s time to go. Meg’s getting tired.”

“Are you sure Hunter’s not saying that as an excuse to leave?” Mr. Batchbury snided.

Wrecker laughed. “Maybe. But I think we’ve all had enough of the season for this year, even Meg.”

You smiled. “Then let’s not keep them waiting.”

Wrecker nodded and continued to recount his conversation with Prince Skywalker as he led you and Mr. Batchbury out of the ballroom to meet with the rest of the family in the foyer.

Once you’d all bundled into the carriage, you were nestled between Tech and Crosshair, with Wrecker, Omega and Hunter on the seat opposite. Tech rambled on about the books he had discussed with Viscount Cody, while Wrecker argued his conversation with Princes Skywalker and Rex was far more interesting than some heavy book. Meg was dozing on Hunter’s shoulder, who kissed the top of her head, telling his brothers to lower their voices.

As the brothers chattered on, you stayed quiet, wringing your hands in your lap. Mr. Batchbury’s left thigh was pressed against yours, and all you could think about was the warm leanness of his trousered leg, and of his closed fist that sat atop his thigh. You eyed where the taffeta of your gown brushed the cotton of his trousers. You trailed your gaze upon that seam before landing on his hand. That hand had sat comfortably in the curve of your waist, fingers splayed and palm flat. It would be so easy to reach out to him now, curl his fingers around yours. You’d been brave tonight, but you could never be that brave, especially with his family so close. You were tracing his knuckles with your eyes when you felt Mr. Batchbury press his thigh firmer against yours, sending heat and goosebumps flooding your body. Your eyes snapped to him and saw him looking out the window, the ghost of a smile tracing the edges of his lips.

He'd done it intentionally. Butterflies erupted.

You smiled to yourself.

Meg’s dozing resulted in her completely falling asleep as the carriage rocked gently against the cobbled streets, so Hunter carried her up to her chambers like he would’ve done when she was a little girl, making you smile. You bid him and his brothers goodnight before retreating to your chamber, face heating and smile fighting against your mouth.

You climbed the stairs and travelled to the very end of the corridor. Yours was the only bedroom on this floor, which had been a little isolating at first, but had proved to be a good thing when you were told Wrecker’s snores could be heard from inside all of the Batchbury’s bed chambers. You closed the door behind you, smiling as you removed your gloves, pulling them down your forearms and placing them over the back of the dressing table’s chair. Glad you’d asked your lady’s maid not to wait up for you, you sat down and spied your reflection in the looking glass. You pressed your fingers to your hot cheeks and laughed to yourself.

Something had definitely altered between you and Mr. Batchbury. His poem wasn’t just empty words but portrayed his thoughts and feelings towards you. But you needed to talk more. He may have some kind of feelings towards you, if his poem and moments in the greenhouse was anything to go by, but you needed answers on why he acted one way and then switched his countenance. There had to be a reason. Because Mr. Batchbury wasn’t a bad person; he was filled with so much good and never did something without cause.

You had pulled the last pin from your hair when you heard a soft knock on your door. You frowned before standing up and crossing the room to open it. You gasped upon the reveal of who was behind the heavy oak.

“Mr. Batchbury,” you breathed. He stood tall, and he had removed his tailcoat and cravat but was still adorned in everything else. His white shirt sleeves a stark but beautiful juxtaposition against the red of his waistcoat and the lack of cravat opened the collar of his shirt, so the neckline gave a scandalous peak into the solid of his chest. He was breathtaking.

He said your name before asking, “May I come in?”

It was improper for an unattached man to be in the bedchambers of an unattached woman. But at this moment, looking at him in all his glorious handsomeness, knowing that you’ve tasted his lips, you couldn’t seem to care.

You stepped aside so Mr. Batchbury could enter, and you softly closed the door behind him. He looked around your bedchambers and you watched his face soften as he saw the parchment with his poem splayed open on the end table by your bed.

“We need to talk,” Mr. Batchbury said, his voice quiet and calm.

“Yes,” you agreed. “We do.”

There was a silence as he looked at you, his port wine eyes searching your face before he took in a deep breath.

“I…have never been good at…this,” Mr. Batchbury spoke, his voice thick like he was nervous.

“I learnt from a young age that being vulnerable got you hurt,” he continued, and your face softened.

You did not know much about the life of the Batchbury’s before they came into their wealth, but you knew it was filled with hardship, destitution and ridicule. Meg had given you a few anecdotes from their previous situation, of one good meal a day shared between five hungry mouths, of hard work as farm hands for a wealthy family who weren’t the nicest of people, of isolation from the townspeople due to their birthmarks. You couldn’t imagine a life like that, of the sadness he has known, and how it must’ve beaten him down so much that he believed being vulnerable was a bad thing.

“Though it is no excuse for how I have treated you, it is perhaps…an explanation. It has been a mistake, and it was unfair of me,” he told you. He fiddled with his wooden hand, anxiousness clear as he avoided your gaze.

“Mr. Batchbury…” you began but he interrupted you.

“In truth, you scare me,” he admitted, and you were taken aback.

“Scare you?” you echoed, and he nodded.

He swallowed before speaking. “From our first encounter…you stir something in me I didn’t know I could ever feel, and that terrifies me.”

You blinked at him before taking a tentative step in his direction. “Why? Why does that frighten you? You’ve faced death, been on a frigate during war…I am merely a woman.”

Mr. Batchbury let you come closer until you were standing toe to toe with him, craning your neck to look up at his anguished face. You wanted to cradle it in your hands and kiss his forehead. His throat worked like he was trying to find the right words, but he didn’t say anything. You reached out for his flesh hand, squeezing it in yours.

“It’s okay. You can tell me,” you assured him softly. Mr. Batchbury sighed.

“How can I find the words?”

“You could in your poems.”

“It’s different writing about you, from a distance, compared to standing before you while you hold my remaining hand.”

You smiled at him, body flushing with heat as your stomach flipped over. “Just try.”

Mr. Batchbury’s gaze never strayed from your face, he was silent for a while, his eyes moving over your features as his hand stayed firmly in yours. It was minutes later when he finally spoke words in a strained voice that took your breath away.

“I am unable to make declarations the way another man could, and perhaps you deserve another man, one who is kinder and more whole. But I fear whatever heart I do have is taken up by my love for you. And should you decide you do not want me; I don’t know if I’d survive it.”

You felt your chest expand as you stared at him, mouth agape.

Mr. Batchbury loved you.

His words sunk in, and it all came together.

Mr. Batchbury did not want to be hurt by you, so he continuously pushed you away with barbed words, thinking it would be easier if you hated him. You wanted to laugh but it was so incredibly heartbreaking you had no idea how to cope. The stupid man thought if you hated him, it would make his loving of you easier to bear. And that night in the greenhouse, you’d all but told him of your feelings, kiss him and let him love you without fear for a moment, only to reject him and run away, hurting him so much more than you ever realised.

It all made sense now.

“Mr. Batchbury,” you whispered, voice thick with emotion that pierced your throat and pricked at your eyes. When he didn’t look at you, you placed a hand on his right cheek, thumb grazing the bottom of his port wine stain, and said, “Crosshair.”

His eyes flicked to you, and when he saw your expression, he leaned into your touch. The gesture so intimate and loving you nearly sobbed on the spot. You tried again, your voice a little shaky but clear.

“Crosshair, I should never have left you in that greenhouse feeling like I did not care for you. The truth is my heart has always been yours. The game that we played, the one you thought would make your love for me easier, it was the only way I could have your eyes meet mine. I understand now why you did it, but to see the person I love look at me with such disdain…I couldn’t bear it any longer. Then you were so gentle, and you were finally looking at me with something other than hate and I got scared; scared you were doing it to tease me.”

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, screwing his eyes shut and holding your wrist in his hand, kissing your palm. “So sorry.”

You shook your head. “I forgive you.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“Well, I do.” you argued back. “You say I deserve someone kinder and more whole? I say I deserve you. You are kinder than you believe. I see it every day in the love you show your family. I have told you this. You may have been unfair with me, but I could not love someone truly unkind, and you are the furthest thing from it. And whole? You are a whole, Crosshair. Why ever would you believe you are not?”

Crosshair held up his wooden hand with a sad look on his face. You only grasped it and kissed the wooden knuckles. You saw the way his eyes filled with tears, and so did yours.

“I don’t deserve you,” he shook his head.

“Yes, you do, Crosshair,” you smiled, eyes teary. “You deserve someone who loves you. And I do. And I will never not want your love.”

Crosshair shook his head and dipped his chin, so his lips found yours. You melted into him, and his arms came around you, pulling you closer until you were flush against his chest. Your arms draped over his neck as you kissed him like there was nothing else in the world you would rather do – and that was the truth. He pulled back and rest his forehead on yours.

“Why do you not think badly of me?” he asked. “I’ve made so many mistakes with you. I’ve made you cry. In the greenhouse…That day in the library…I have never hated myself more than I did when I saw that tear roll down your cheek. How can I make amends for such things?”

You let out a breath. “You have upset me, that much is true. But to make mistakes is to be human, Crosshair. How could I punish you for that?”

Crosshair’s hands held your cheeks, and he pulled back to look at you. You blinked up at him, and watched emotion flood his eyes.  

“Tell me again,” you heard him mumble, his left thumb caressing your cheek.

“I love you,” you whispered back before he whimpered and kissed you once more.

How had you gone weeks without this? You lifted yourself up on the tips of your toes and pressed into him. You made a soft noise as his arms tightened around you and you felt his mouth slowly guide yours open, and gasped when you felt his tongue moved against yours.

You’d never known kissing could be like this. His mouth was hot and wet, and you felt him moan as you attempted to caress his tongue with yours. It sent heat running through you and you scarcely wondered how it would look if someone were to come into your room now. You couldn’t deign yourself to care.

You loved Mr. Batchbury. And he loved you. Nothing else truly mattered.

Both of you now unencumbered with the fear of rejection, and consumed with the knowledge that your hearts were intertwined, neither of you held back. You felt his hands move up and down your hips before landing on your behind, squeezing you there and making you gasp.

“Crosshair,” you panted.

“For so long…” he whispered before his mouth travelled down your jawline, down your neck and towards the neckline of your bodice. You cradled his head, fingers gripping the short strands of his hair as his lips left a pathway of soft wet kisses across your décolletage. Heat ignited through you, your whole body encompassed with want and need. You felt between your legs begin to pool as his mouth found the swell of your breast as it pressed against your corset, and he nipped at the skin with his teeth, making you gasp sharply. You moaned before Crosshair dragged his lips back to yours, whispering your name like it was a spell. You kissed him harder before pulling back, hands holding his jaw. He looked magnificent like this, lips all swollen and eyes blown, hair mussed. You nearly moaned again as you brought your lips together.

“I need you closer,” you breathed against his lips.

Crosshair pulled back this time, smoothing your hair gently as he caught his breath. “Are…are you sure?”

“Yes. Please.”

Crosshair groaned before kissing you again, his hands moving to between your shoulder blades, where the laces for your dress were. You gasped into his mouth as he tugged a little.

“May I?”

“Yes,” you answered him, all breath.

Crosshair pulled a little harder at your laces, but your maid had done them up tight and they weren’t budging at all. Crosshair drew away from your lips and tugged again, your shoulders jostling with the movement. You laughed as he muttered some choice expletives, before he met your eyes with an amused glint.

“You think this is funny?” he smirked. “I have one hand, I want my mouth on every part of you, and you’re laughing.”

Your smile only grew, knowing he was only teasing. You squealed when he turned you around, pulling your back flush against his front. You gasped and then whimpered as his lips found the curved of where your shoulder met your neck and he kissed there, sucking the skin softly before he drew back and worked at the laces again. You tried to reach over your shoulder to help him, but he swatted your hand away, determined to do it himself.

With one hand, he managed to pull at the ties of your gown until they were loose enough for him to undo the rest of them.

“Finally,” he drawled before he began pushing the gown off your shoulders. You helped him pull it off your arms and down your body, stepping out of it. You heard Crosshair groan as he realised he’d have to unlace your corset too.

“Christ, how can there be more?” he grumbled, pulling at the laces, making you laugh.

“I’m sorry, my love,” you reached up behind you with a hand and tried to help him. This time he let you, too eager to undress you to worry about his pride, your hands grazing over each other until it was loose enough for Crosshair to pull off completely.

You let the corset drop to the floor before turning to face him in just your chemise and stockings. Crosshair looked at you for a moment, eyes dancing with awe before pulling you closer and kissing you deeply again. You smiled into his kiss as your fingers moved to the buttons of his waistcoat, and you heard a chuckle rumble through his chest and lips.

“What is it?”

He just shook his head and shrugged off the garment, letting it drop into the pile with your gown. He then grabbed you, a mischievous smile on his face. You laughed as he guided you to the bed. You loved seeing him like this, so smiley and open. Never in your wildest dreams did you believe you’d ever witness a Crosshair so soft. When the back of your knees hit the mattress, you climbed on it and slid back, leaning back on your elbows and bending your stockinged legs slightly so you could see him, your chemise riding up your thighs.

Crosshair watched you with an unwavering gaze as he unbuttoned his shirt with the long deft fingers of his left hand. Your eyes widened when he revealed his bare chest, shirt falling off his shoulders.

He was…very well formed. In the candlelight of your room, his brown skin was illuminated in the most beautiful way, accentuating the sculpted muscles of his lean chest and flat stomach. You saw the way his wooden hand was mounted on the end of his wrist, a small leather belted strap securing it in place. The dip in his chest had a small smattering of hair there, matching the grey on his head. You trailed your eyes down to the stripe of hair that went below the waistband of his trousers and pressed the backs of your fingers against your mouth, in fear of moaning far too loud at the sight.

He was breathtaking.

You watched him as he pulled off his boots and unclasped his trousers revealing a mound of grey hair, feeling every nerve in your body tingling as the anticipation for what’s to come only grew. You’d read books, of course, heard chatter from maids and overheard conversations between men at inns, but now being on the precipice of it with someone you truly loved…your heartbeat raced in nerves and excitement. You sucked in a breath, growing wetter between your legs as he placed both hands on the mattress and leaned towards you. You felt him pause for a moment, slanting over you as his breath fanned your lips before he kissed you again, a little sweeter this time.

Your lips stayed locked as you reclined back on the sheets, wrapping your arms around his neck as he climbed onto the bed and over you, one of his legs slotting between yours. You gasped as his lips moved down your neck once more and towards your breasts. You mewled as Crosshair nudged the neckline of your chemise with his chin, his stubble rough against your smooth skin. He looked up at you, searching for approval which you gave with a quick nod before he dipped his lips lower, kissing the soft flesh of your breast, tongue lulling out and licking the skin before he sucked gently.

“Crosshair,” you said breathlessly, and he nudged the fabric down with his nose, revealing your nipple to the air before closing his mouth over it and sucking. You arched off the bed, angling into his mouth and his right arm slid under your back, cradling him to you. It was so obscene, and yet it felt so incredible you never wanted him to stop. You felt him move across to the other one, doing the same. Your leg went around his thigh, the cotton of your socking sliding against his leg, soft moans sounding as he continued to move his tongue around the hard nub.

You whined when he pulled away, kissing you again. You were quickly becoming obsessed with how he kissed you, and how he never seemed to want to stop.

He said you name against your lips. “May I—”

“Yes,” you interrupted him. You felt him grin against your lips.

“You don’t even know what I was going to ask.”

“I don’t care. I know I want you to do it,” you told him honestly. He could do whatever he wished.

A low chuckle rumbled through his chest, vibrating against yours before he kissed you again. He moved off you, leaning on his right elbow, unable to hold himself up anymore on just one arm, as he shuffled down the bed alongside you, then moved down your body. You propped yourself up on your elbows again and watched as he descended, eyes locking with yours. Your breath hitched when pushed your knees apart, then guided the hem of your chemise up slightly with his fingers, the soft cotton travelling up your thighs until it was bunched around your hips, exposing the most intimate part of you. You watched Crosshair’s eyes darken and his mouth slacken after he swallowed at the sight.

At his inscrutable lingering gaze, you flushed and squirmed a little, embarrassment and self-consciousness rising in you. You’d never been so exposed to someone before, and it was unnerving. What if he saw something he didn’t like? You had no frame of reference for what was desirable or considered attractive by a man; what if you didn’t measure up?

You started to close your legs when Crosshair put a hand on your knee, stopping you. You met his gaze with hot cheeks, and watched the way his face softened when he realised you were discomfitured.

“Darling,” he whispered before pressing a lingering kiss to your knee. “You are breathtaking.”

You flushed again, heart squeezing at the endearment. “Really?”

“Really.” Crosshair confirmed and hooked one of your knees over his shoulders as he rolled onto his stomach and positioned himself between your legs. Your heartbeat increased as he drew closer to your centre.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“Tasting you,” he raised an eyebrow before softly asking, “Is that okay?”

You shifted your shoulders awkwardly. You had heard of such acts, but it was regarded as quite…scandalous. “Is it not improper?”

Crosshair only tipped the corner of his mouth up in amusement, arms encircling your thighs from underneath. “Darling, I think impropriety went out the window when we kissed in the greenhouse. And again, when my mouth was on your breasts.”

You let out a loud laugh before you clapped a hand over your mouth, scared the noise might attract a stray servant. You smiled behind your hand, and Crosshair grinned at you. You still marvelled at how his whole face changed and lit up when he smiled. His port-wine stain stretching and the lines on his face creasing around his mouth and eyes in a way that made you want to kiss every single one of them.

“May I?” Crosshair dipped his chin down, eyes on you. When you nodded, excitement tingling in your veins, he descended down onto your folds, his hot mouth embracing you. You gasped, mewled, your hands found his hair as he artfully moved his tongue through the wet seams. Anybody who said this was improper truly did not know how wonderful it felt.

As he continued his ministrations, Crosshair’s nose bumped against the sensitive nub that shot pleasure down to your toes. You arched, fingers gripping his short hair as you began to squirm and wriggle against his mouth. You panted, whimpering as he sucked and licked you, pulling all kinds of obscene noises from you as he brought you such pleasure.

“Cross…” you could barely string a single word together.

You felt him hum against you and you shuddered, heat beginning to coil inside you. You closed your thighs around his head, grinding against his mouth and you felt his grip on you tighten, flesh fingers digging into the soft of your thighs as he ate at your harder. It was incredible, the feeling of pleasure he was giving you, and you wondered how he was so good at it.

You felt him suck at the nub and you jerked, yelping loudly before you clamped your one of your hands over your mouth. It was too much, the pleasure building, you arched and squirmed and you tightened your hold on his hair with your other hand. You panted, looking down at him. He seemed to sense you watching him, and flicked his gaze up to you, and you felt him smirk against your folds, sucking harder.

You moaned loudly, the heat inside you rising. “Cross, I’m—”

He hummed lowly again and that’s when he added one single long slender finger, slipping easily inside you to the knuckle, as he sucked on your nub.

You were done for.

The hot pleasure that had been coiling in your stomach erupted, and your hips rose off the bed as you moaned loudly into your hand, head thrown back. You felt Crosshair’s hand press into your stomach to hold you to the mattress, and you clamped your thighs around his head as he continued to draw your peak from you. You squeezed tight around his finger, and his mouth was hot and wet against you. You had never felt anything like this before. You’d experimented, of course, too curious about what you’d heard and read as you grew past your marriageable age. But the work of your own fingers was incomparable to that of Crosshair’s mouth and what he’d managed to draw out of you.

As your pleasure waned, your moans becoming soft whimpers, Crosshair’s work against you slowed until your shudders relaxed. You gasped as you felt him remove his finger, the loss of him a hollow feeling. You looked up at the ceiling and let your hand drop from your mouth, flinging your arm across the mattress as you caught your breath. The fabric of the canopy of your bed were nothing to the stars you’d just seen.

“You good?” you heard Crosshair ask, and you looked to see him to come up from your sex, mouth glistening with your spend. You flushed as you lifted one of your legs and he shuffled up the bed, leaning on his elbow next to you. His eyes all bright and port wine stain a deep red with the exertion of pleasuring you.

“Wonderful.” Your voice was hoarse, and you cleared your throat, making both of you smile. Crosshair lifted his flesh hand, and brushed your hair back from your forehead, avoiding using the finger that had been inside you. You then watched as he placed that finger inside his mouth, licking it clean as his eyes screwed shut. Your eyes widened at the obscenity of it. It was filthy, but mesmerising. You swallowed thickly.

When Crosshair opened his eyes, he smiled lovingly at you. “You taste incredible.”

You flushed and put your head in your hands to hide it. Crosshair laughed and gently pried your hands away, kissing the tips of your fingers. You leaned up to kiss him, capturing his lips with yours. You could taste yourself on him and you moaned, twisting and hooking a leg over his hips before flipping him, climbing over him. You sat back, straddling his hips, and you felt the hard length of him against your still pulsing centre. You shifted your hips a little, feeling it rub against you. You let out a strangled breath at the feel of his bulge hitting you right there, and with the look on Crosshair’s face, you guessed he almost did to.

His hands dropped to the crease in your hips as he looked up at you like you weren’t real.

“Darling,” he whispered, making you flush. Emboldened by the way he stared at you with such awe, you lifted the edge of your chemise over your head and discarded it. You watched Crosshair’s eyes widen as you revealed your naked torso, and his flesh hand ran up your stomach and around to your waist, squeezing there.

“I never thought I would ever have you,” he murmured.

You smiled and massaged your hands across his stomach and up his pectorals, you ran a finger down the dip in his chest, through his chest hair. “Me neither.”

When your hands came back down to his trousers, they travelled below the hem and when your fingers brushed against the hair there before they grazed the hilt of his cock, he jerked, sitting up, your name falling from your lips. You gazed at him and watched his mouth drop open as you moved your hand lower, and with your heart racing, you wrapped your hand around the hot hard length of his cock.

Crosshair hissed and tightened his hold on your hips. “Fuck,” he groaned out, eyes squeezing shut.

Your folds flooded again at the sound, of the uncommon expletive, heat swirling through you. He was so hard, you’d never felt anything like it. You’d thought about it, of course, but his cock was velvety and hot. You liked it. What would it feel like inside you? You squeezed a little and Crosshair made a choking sound, grabbing onto your hand.

“Don’t, or I’ll come in my trousers,” Crosshair hissed out. He looked like he was about to pass out, all flushed, hair sticking up everywhere from you grabbing it, his eyes half closed as he looked at you, panting. You loved it.

“Really?” you said innocently. “So, I shouldn’t do this?”

You thumbed the slit at the top of his cock, which was slick with a bead of wetness. Crosshair jerked and swore again.

“You’re torturing me,” Crosshair breathed out before looking at you with a devilish glint in his eyes. “What a witch you are.”

You smiled and leaned to kiss the hinge of his jaw. “Got you under my spell,” you whispered against his hot clammy skin and Crosshair moaned so loudly against your neck you felt it ripple through you.

“Lift up, darling,” he said, and you kneeled over him as he unlaced his trousers fully and pushed them down his legs, kicking them off so he was bare, his cock springing free underneath you. You barely had time to register it as he flipped you both over again, slotting between your legs, his hot length pressed against your centre. You both moaned at the contact, your hot wetness coating the underside of his cock and you ground against him.

“Need you inside me,” you told him, and it was the single most filthy thing you’d ever uttered.

“Believe me,” Crosshair said as he kissed you again. “I need that too.” His voice turned soft. “But, darling, I have…I have to be gentle.”

You blinked up at him, understanding what he meant. You nodded. “I know.”

“Just tell me, and I’ll stop. I mean that,” Crosshair urged, smoothing your hair.

You nodded again, your heart swelling with so much love for this man, you had no idea how you had gone through life without him, how you’d endured that distance even whilst under the same roof. You never wanted to be without him again.

You cupped his cheek. “I trust you.”

You watched Crosshair’s face completely melt at your words before he gave you a lingering kiss. “I love you,” he whispered against you before positioning himself and slowly sliding into your slick folds.

You hissed, eyes shut as he stretched you open, Crosshair’s hushed voice uttering apologies and guiding you to relax. Your hands went to his arms, and you held on tight as he seated himself fully inside you. He groaned as you squeezed him and when you opened your eyes to look at him, and he was gazing at you with those watchful eyes, seeing your comfort in your expression. The feeling of him was foreign, and you felt so full, feeling every hard inch of him inside you. But after a few moments, you gave him a nod and he slowly began to move his hips.

Crosshair was as gentle as he promised, you both moaned at the sensation as he slowly moved out of you, then back in. He kissed you again as his hips undulated with care. As he moved, the uncomfortable feeling eased, and his thrusts became more fluid. The hilt of cock bumped your nub, and you moaned at the continuous stimulation.

The feeling was euphoric, and all that tenderness you craved was there as Crosshair rolled his hips into yours. It was so easy. You thought sex would be scary, uncomfortable, painful, but it wasn’t. Not with Crosshair. He was passionate, and confident and yet loving. His hands were firm but never hurt, his movements intentional with the way he rolled his hips. How lucky you were to have him in this way, after everything, after all the confusion and feelings of uncertainty and barbed words. He thought you had bewitched him, but it was he that was the creature of myth. No one in the whole entire world was like him.

You covered your mouth as you were unable to hold back a loud moan, and you met his thrusts, wanting to feel all of him. His ragged breaths fanned your face as he looked down on you. You could see his arms wobble, the wooden hand not fit for holding him up like this, so you wrapped your stockinged legs around his waist, snaking against his hot smooth skin, and flipped him so you were on top. He looked up at you in surprise as you placed your hands on his chest and rolled your hips into him. Crosshair groaned loudly.

“Christ, you’re perfect,” he panted, hands guiding your movements as you moved faster. “Made for me,” he moaned.

You smiled, and you could feel that familiar heat building inside you. Your entire body was flushed, shiny with sweat and the sound of your bodies filled the room. Your breaths were loud, mewling and moaning together with Crosshair. You thanked the stars again for being in a bedroom an entire floor away from his family. You could not imagine facing them in the morning knowing they could hear you both.

Your thighs burned, but your pleasure was building as you, the wetness of your centre sliding against him. You wanted to keep going but you fell forward, sweaty body hitting his.

“Cross, I can’t,” you panted. But his arms wrapped around you and rolled so he was on top once more. You felt him slide out of you and whined at the loss of him.

“On your knees, darling,” he breathed, and you followed his instructions before you felt him push in again, his hands holding your hips. You cried out and then covered your mouth.

“Let the servants hear you,” Crosshair said, all raspy. “Let them know I’m the one making you feel like this.”

You moaned again as you felt him thrust at this new angle, and he hit places in you, you had no idea even existed. Crosshair’s moans and husky breaths filled the room as his hips slapped into your arse again and again you felt like you were going to split open in the best way. The bed shook, hair fell over your face, your arms trembled, your thighs quivering, the sounds you were making completely out of your control as they filled every corner of the room. It was ecstasy. The coils in you were wound so tight you were on the edge of falling again.

“Cross, I’m so—” you breathed out, moaning again.

“Go on,” Crosshair said huskily. “Let go, darling.”

With another rock of his hips you felt your pleasure unleash, your cry loud as your whole body shook with your release. You couldn’t keep your arms up, elbows buckling as you fell into the sheets. Your face in the silk and your arse up, you groaned, calling out Crosshair’s name, the muffled sound filling your ears as you gripped the bedding. How was this one stronger than the first?

You shuddered, your cries softening as Crosshair’s thrusts begun to slow. And when you peaked your head out from the sheets to look behind you, you watched him falter before swiftly pulling out of you and spilling on your lower back with a ragged cry.

You were mesmerised as you watched him stroke his cock until he was spent, pulling every last drop, breathless. After a moment, his eyes opened and met yours. You both gazed at each other, smiles creeping up on your faces as you gave breathless laughs.

“Sorry,” he rasped as his spend dripped down the arch of your back. “I made a mess of you.”

You shook your head, face flushed. “I liked it.”

Crosshair groaned, squeezing your hips. “Don’t say that. I’m not ready to go again.”

You laughed and watched him move off the bed on unstable legs. “Wash basin?”

“On the dresser,” you told him, and you heard him pad barefoot to the ceramic bowl and pour water from the jug. He wet the towel and walked back over to you. The cold water made your skin prickle as he wiped away the mess he made on your skin before he cleaned between your legs and his softening cock. You sat up, stretching your legs out as he walked through your bed chamber naked, returning the cloth.

When he faced you, he looked at you skeptically. “What is it?”

“Can I read more of your poetry?” you asked, almost shyly.

Crosshair blushing was not something you imagined he’d do after such a vigorously passionate intercourse with you, but watching his cheeks and the tips of his ears flush made your heart ache with love for him. “If you wish.”

“I promise I won’t laugh.”

“I believe you,” he smiled and after another moment of you unabashedly admiring his naked form in the candlelight, he looked at you with narrowed eyes and a teasing smile. “Was there something else?”

“You really are incredibly handsome.”

Crosshair barked out a laugh before crawling back onto the bed with you. You both pushed the decorative pillows off the bed before moving under the covers, your naked bodies finding each other and pulling each other closer. You tangled your legs together and wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head on his chest. Crosshair pressed a kiss to your forehead. In the silence that found you, you listened to his steady heartbeat, feeling it thump against your cheek. You sighed with content. How was this real?

“Darling?” you heard him say softly.

You kissed his chest. “What is it?”

He paused before quietly saying, “Marry me?”

Your heart picked up and your eyes widened. You sat up to face him. “Pardon?”

“Marry me?” He repeated, his hand caressing your cheek as he looked at you so softly. “Please.”

You felt tears sting in your eyes and your mouth break into a smile. You leaned in and kissed him sweetly, his soft lips gentle.

“Okay,” you answered against his lips before kissing him once more.

i hope you enjoyed!

this is the last part of bewitching mr. batchbury. i would love to write regency tech and wrecker, but my schedule next year will be limited as i begin working full time. fics will still be posted! just not as often.

thank you so much for reading and for supporting my work <3

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if you weren’t tagged it’s bc it wouldn’t let me/your blog didn’t exist

TAGLIST FORM

[haetrack]

i just need to let this out bc i’m usually a hyuck girl but omg i’ve been obsessing over mark today… like fuck just him randomly having the horniest day of his life, so he ends up staring at the nudes u’ve send him or watching all these videos he’s recorded of u sucking him off, for HOURS. he’s just waiting around like a loser, hoping time moves faster till u come back home. eventually he can’t take it and starts palming himself over his sweats, and when that’s not enough, he slides his hand under his boxers, lightly stroking his hard cock. all he thinks about is u, the way ur lips wrap around him when ur on ur knees, the way ur back arches when he’s burrowed deep inside u. he grabs his phone immediately and facetimes u, elated when u pick up, greeting him with a small “hey” as u enter ur car. relieved that u weren’t in public, he wastes no time and picks up his pace. being able to see ur surprised face and hearing the gasp u let out upon realisation at what he was doing based off the whines leaving his mouth, just made his grip on himself so much harder and faster. mark thinks about how u whine and whimper in his ear with ur head on his shoulder, back to his chest as his fingers fuck in and out of u, his other hand applying pressure on ur clit. he almost comes when he hears u lightly breathe out “can i see, please?“. he curses under his breath and switches his camera around. he didn’t even bother taking his dick out, the shape of his hand desperately running up and down underneath his boxers and sweats was so lewd whilst still leaving much up to ur imagination. “ur doing so well baby, are u close?” u ask, “i wanna see u come, mark. i need u to take it out for me.” the deep groan that u hear from ur phone speakers makes u wanna go feral. he quickly follows ur request, his hard cock slapping against his stomach. his tip was so red and swollen, dripping with precum, making u wonder how long he’s been getting himself off for, considering u’ve never seen it this bad. the moan u accidentally let out causes him to twitch in his hand. finally without the obstruction of his clothes, u see him rutting in his hand. u feed him with praises, amazed at how much faster and louder he gets the more u talk. ur sure he’s not even listening to the actual words ur saying, just the sound of ur voice was getting him off. he opens his eyes after having them clenched the last few minutes, seeing his beautiful girlfriend’s face on his screen and noticing ur now heavy breathing, sends him over the edge. strings of cum land on his toned stomach and he catches some of it with his hand, continuing to stroke himself with it, emanating wet, sloppy sounds that bless ur ears. the groan he’s about to let out catches in his throat when he hear u say, “don’t move, i wanna clean u up.” the roar of ur car engine turning on and the facetime ending.

phew, had to put this out somewhere before i went to sleep 🧏‍♀️

holy shit. what. What

anon how could u just drop this in my inbox and go to sleep like u didn’t just write the craziest thing ever… ANON PLEASE…

just the thought of him being so horny and need you to get off… yeah. yeah. then when you get to his apartment he’d be all over you, trying to get you as close as possible. if you feel nice, you’ll let him cum as much as he needs to, grunts of your name filling the air as your hand glides over him and your mouth sucking on his tip. if you’re feeling mean, you’ll edge him, making him beg for you to let him cum, hips fucking into your fist.

even if you decide to let him fuck you, you’d ask him to beg for it. he doesn’t care, practically begging to fuck your dripping hole, no shame left in his body after being horny all day. he needs you. it doesn’t matter what position, his aching cock needs to be inside of you.

[hwnglx]

enhypen's thoughts on marriage

based on tarot. i do not know these idols personally. energies are always changing. what i say is NOT straight fact. pls take it with a grain of salt!

heeseung

he had so much to say, like wow he's passionate about it. he loves the idea of it, sees it in his life path. he thinks marriage is something he's meant to do. he'll feel unfulfilled emotionally, if he doesn't get to find that one special person in his life who'll make everything brighter, happier and more beautiful. it'll be a very new, but enriching chapter for him. there is though, this huge awareness of “i need to do better.” he doesn't think he has the means to nurture a happy marriage at all, and he's also aware that he hasn't found the person of his dreams yet. he has very high standards, so it might take him a while to actually find his person. he knows it's far away, yet it's definitely something set in his future plans.

jay

so i shuffled for like a second, and the nine of cups flew in my face immediately, lmao. marriage is something jay dreams about, it's something he aspires to accomplish. he literally sees it as an accomplishment, because him getting married would mean he finally turned into the man he wants to be. financially stable, wealthy in many regards, whether that's health-wise, money-wise, mindset-wise, soul-wise. he wants to be the best man he can be for his future spouse. he wants to make their dreams come true, make them feel like they're lucky to be with him. i can also see him wanting to acquire a lot of wisdom, so he can give his children very good advice. (he's thought about this a lot for sure) so, he seems to have this habit of seeing marriage as his “end goal”. he doesn't take it lightly, and knows the sense of responsibility that comes with such a huge commitment.

jake

phew.. so, not much came out for him, but two very powerful cards. i can sense jake feeling like marriage is something he won't be able to avoid in his life, he believes he'll have to get there one day. he is so much more self-aware than some people think, so he knows about his downfalls and inner problems that'd prevent him from entering so heavy of a commitment. he knows how big of a deal marriage is, so he's aware that if he wants to make that powerful of a decision, he won't be able to run away and escape from his problems anymore. he has to face his demons. he literally has to man up, and he's kinda scared of that. he doesn't wanna marry someone and make them become victim of his toxic habits. he just thinks he's way too immature, and wouldn't be able to provide his future spouse what they deserve yet.

sunghoon

sunghoon has such slow energy in his love life. he wants to marry someone no doubt about it, but he wants to make sure he approaches marriage with a very mindful and steady attitude. meaning, he doesn't wanna rush into it at all. he wants to make sure he marries the perfect person, and also is the perfect person for them. he wants to be a mature, dependable, reliable, responsible and financially stable man for his future spouse, and believes he still has a long way to go. he wants to be the leader and the provider of the family.

sunoo

so sunoo, seems a little unsure. he likes the thought of marriage, he enjoys the idea of it, but something about it makes him insecure. i think he fears the burden that'd come with having a spouse, someone he'd be tied to in such a drastic manner. sunoo is more interested in having fun, light and enjoyable relationships rather than heavy and weighty commitments. i wouldn't be surprised if he's like “i'm just not the type for that” however, he seems so spontaneous and very young still, i can see his thoughts on it changing all the time, based on how he sees it. a few months later he could be like “oh actually the thought of having a fiancé/e would be kinda nice right now, i like that 🤭” he's just unpredictable lmao.

jungwon

jungwon is so different when it comes to romantic relationships, and i think he's aware of that. he's much more fast-paced, impulsive and fiery in love, and he feels like that can be his downfall sometimes. he thinks he might turn people off by how straightforward and brash he can be at times. there's this fear i can feel in him, like “what if i mess the marriage up?” he feels bad, because he knows he can have high standards and be much to deal with. i can see him nagging a lot, being kinda negative and having this self possessed attitude in love, he fears they wouldn't be happy with him. he believes he'd need to work on himself and calm down, if he wants to make a commitment such as marriage.

niki

niki has thought about it before, i can see him imagining it, but it's a very far away thought. he's obviously incredibly young so this isn't surprising, i can tell he sees himself only getting married when he's way more mature and grown up. like in his 40's. he thinks it's a very "traditional" decision, a way of life that's expected from people, and he thinks it'll take a good while for him to come to terms with settling down. he still has a lot of things he wants to explore by himself, he's very individualistic. so the idea of tying yourself to a person and sharing everything with them, them being dependent on him to an extent, can make him uncomfortable. he doesn't think his personality suits the life of a husband. but again, this is open to change as it'd surprise me to see him consider marriage at age eighteen.

[writingsbymo-mo]

I'm not Alcoholic

Drunk!Rindou x Reader

Contains: fluff, drunken shenanigans, Ran being a worried older brother as he should

Summary: you got off late from work, head to the convenience store near your apartment. What you didn't expect was the surprise you'd have when you get home.

"Sigh...another night of cup noodles. Least they had my favorite tonight."

You were finally on your way home from work, having to take some overtime to finish up a few things. Just another typical day. You were glad you had the next couple days off to rest instead of slaving away with minimal pay. "I need to find a new job," you sighed, clutching your bag from the combini, strolling briskly to your apartment.

As soon as you approached the building, you opened your bag, digging your keys out with a minor struggle but you managed to find them. "Phew, now I don't have to break a window....eeeh, nevermind." You shook your head, arriving at your door when you dropped your bag and keys in a panic. "R-Rindou!"

You scrambled over to him, reaching out to touch his forehead. He was hot to the touch, face flushed crimson when you noticed a subtle sweet smell coming from his breaths. Ah, of course.

Arms suddenly wrapped around you, pulling you against his heater of a body, slurring his speech as he said your name. "Mmmine...."

"Rin!" You squeaked. A rush of warmth blossomed in your cheeks. You tried wriggling your way out of his hold but of course, his firm arms were too strong to move even in his current state. "C-can we go inside please?"

His arms slumped as soft snores left his lips. Somehow, it's like he understood...maybe? Doesn't matter. You stood up quickly, grabbing your keys and unlocked the door. "Rin....Rindou...pst, Rindou," you shook his shoulder, mumbling his name. His eyes cracked open, hiccupping and smiling at you. "Shoo pretty."

You smiled and shook your head, hoisting him up from under his shoulder, "thanks Rin, let's get you inside and something to drink, ok?"

He stumbled and swayed, giving you a hard time keeping your balance, walking him to the couch. You set him down, lifting his legs onto the cushions. "I'll go get you some water. Rin," you turned around and muttered under your breath, "and give Ran a quick text. Bet he's worried sick."

With a glass in hand, you filled it up with cold water. 'I should get him something to eat too,' You thought, 'guess I'll be making two cup noodles.'

While you let the water heat up, you stepped back into the living space and nearly dropped the glass. "R-RINDOU?!"

"Wwhaaat?" He whined. His arms were folded across his chest as he stretched his legs out on the couch in splits....with nothing on, giving you a full view of himself.

"W-why did you take your clothes off?" You placed the glass on the table next to the couch.

"Tooo *hic* waaarm..."

"I'll get the fan," you picked the glass back up, handing it to him, "this will help you in the meantime." You smiled, kissing him atop his head.

Soon, he began to feel better. His snores filled the room as you placed a blanket over him. You didn't have the mental capacity to think about explaining why he's naked under the covers. That's a problem for tomorrow you. With quiet steps, you got into bed and fell asleep.

A few hours into the night, you were woken up to something pressing into your back. Something warm. Something that smelled subtly like sandalwood. "R-Rindou," you croaked through your tired and dry throat. "What are you doing in here?" He grumbled into your ear, nuzzling into your neck as his hot breath sent tingles down your spine. You sighed in defeat. You knew he wouldn't wake up in this state nor could you escape his grasp. All you could do now is try to fall back to sleep. "Goodnight Rin. Please don't scream when you wake up..."

Bright rays of the morning sun illuminated your room. You cracked your eyes open and yawned with the stretch of your limbs. A deep, tired groan entered your ears as Rindou stirred awake. "Fuck...," he lifted his head, gripping his forehead.

"Need something for that hangover?"

He jolted back, eyes wide as his mouth hung open. "H-how did—WHERE ARE MY CLOTHES?!!"

"You stripped them off when you got too hot...they're uh...still in the other room..." you blushed and looked away, twiddling your thumbs. "Do you usually do that when you're drunk?"

He sighed, running his hands through his hair. "It's not the first time it's happened...did I—"

"No, you just went to sleep. Don't worry. Actually...I did find you outside my door when I got home. You scared me, Rin! I was worried you got sick or maybe Ran got mad at you over something..." you looked down with a small pout, releasing a heavy sigh, "just glad you're safe."

Rindou placed his hand on the back of your head, pulling you against his bare chest. "Sorry, love," he whispered, kissing the top of your head. You hummed, closing your eyes as you basked in his warmth. "Oh, when you head back...um...you kind of owe Ran for keeping him up almost all night..."

"Fuck.......better get the usual...."

"Sorry, Rin..."

-------------

Ring....ring.....

Ran: —is Rindou there?!

You: Yeah...he uh...fell asleep at my door...and is now on the couch.

Ran: Sigh...that little shit...he owes me for keeping me up this late...

You: Haha, yeah. Knew you'd be worried.

Ran: ...yeah...at least I know he's safe and I don't have to bail him out.

You: Oh! Uhhhh....does Rin usually...strip when he gets drunk?

Ran: I'm starting to believe that's a yes.

You: Ummm, and what's that supposed to mean, Ran?

Ran: I've only seen this happen a couple times when he's shitfaced drunk. Woke me up playing his mixes and found him jamming in commando...

Yiu: pffft ahahha! Oh...my god...he didn’t!

Ran: Oh, he fucking did. Threw a pillow in his face and told him to go the fuck to sleep!

You tried to hold in your laughter but to no avail, you cackled into the phone.

You: That's fucking hilarious! But anyway, I'll tell him you owe him when he wakes up. See ya.

Ran: Mmhmm.

Click

"Sorry Rin but it looks like you'll be making a stop before you head home tomorrow..."