#electric chair I swear | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cumironi · 6 months ago

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COLD ICE POPSICLE!

summary. you and your friends sit in the back of the school building, smoking and talking, joint in hands. it was summer and heat waves swimming around freely, you eating some ice cream, licking and slurping while your eyes focus on your two friends, GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU . . . who knows that might not be the only thing you lick that day?

wc. 12k | masterlist.

warning. fem! reader, dirty talk, praise, choking, hair pulling ( gojo, geto ), nineteen! satosugu x reader, biting, risky public place, degrading, oral sex ( m! receiving ), smoking joint, drug mentioned, fingering, threesome mentioned.

in the sweltering heat of the afternoon sun, you, gojo satoru, geto suguru, and nanami kento are lounging in the back of the school, surrounded by abandoned tables and chairs. the heat wave has turned the place into an uncomfortable haven, but you all find some relief in the occasional breeze.

gojo, sprawled out on one of the tables across from you, is animatedly complaining about the heat, “i swear, if it gets any hotter, we’ll need to start using our powers just to stay cool!” nanami, sitting cross-legged on a nearby chair beside gojo, rolls his eyes. “gojo, we’re not going to use our cursed energy just to avoid a bit of sweat. it’s not that bad.”

geto, lounging on the grass with a half-smile, adds, “you’re just saying that because you’re immune to the heat. it’s like you’re always in your own personal air-conditioned bubble.” gojo grins, clearly enjoying the moment. “oh, come on, nanami. you’re just bitter because you can’t complain as creatively as i can.” nanami raises an eyebrow, throwing his upperclassmen a look. “creative? more like annoying. maybe if you spent less time talking and more time focusing, you wouldn’t be so bothered by the heat.” gojo laughs loudly at nanami’s retort, clearly enjoying every second of this.

“aw, come on na-na-mi,” he teases, drawing out the syllables, “admit it, you love it when i get all creative. adds a bit of spice to your otherwise predictable life.” you snort at gojo's words, hands waving up and down as you try to cool off your neck. gojo grins widely at your reaction, noticing your attempt to cool down. “oh, fanning yourself, huh?” he says with a smirk, “can’t handle the heat?” now shifting his attention to you.

nanami just rolls his eyes, not even looking up from his book. “you’re not any better, gojo. you’ve been complaining nonstop for the past hour.” hearing the words coming out of nanami's mouth, gojo feigns a wounded expression. “excuse me, nanami. i’m not complaining. i’m creatively expressing my discomfort,” he gasped before throwing the blonde a nasty look.

“yeah, creatively annoying everyone around you,” geto chimes in, lounging comfortably on the grass with his eyes closed. gojo turns his attention to geto, a playful glint in his eyes. “oh, look who decided to join the conversation. got tired of just sitting there looking pretty?” geto scoffs at this, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, “oh, please. as if i need to say anything. unlike you, i know when to shut up.”

gojo shoots geto a mock-offended look, placing a hand dramatically over his heart. “ouch, sugu. you wound me. i'll have you know, my talking is a form of art,” he pout as he speaks bullshit. nanami finally looks up from his book, his expression unreadable as usual, “more like art of torture.”

you chuckle when you hear the words nanami said as his eyes back to focusing on his book. “why are you even reading in this heat?” you look at your classmates, shaking your head lightly as you pull out an electric fan from your bag and opening two buttons of your uniform. gojo's eyes immediately light up when he sees the fan and starts fanning yourself, a sly smirk playing on his lips. “well,” he says, lounging back on the table, “looks like you've got the solution right there.”

geto open his one eye to look at you— eyes straight to your chest as he lets out a low whistle, eyeing you up and down, “now that's a sight for sore eyes.” nanami ignores their comments, focused on his book, but you can see a subtle flush rising on his cheeks. gojo leans forward, a mischievous gleam in his eyes, “you know, y/n, that fan would be a lot more useful if you were over here.”

he pats the spot on the table beside him, looking up at you with a hopeful expression. geto chuckles at gojo's blatant flirting, amused by the situation. “yeah,” he adds, “or come lie over here with me. i promise i won’t bite.” even nanami glances up from his book, his eyes flickering in your direction before quickly looking back down when he accidentally looking at your chest.

gojo's smirk widens as he notices nanami's reaction. “ooh, look at that,” he teases, “is that a blush i see on na-na-mi's face?” geto laughs, clearly enjoying the teasing. nanami shoots both of them a glare, his cheeks still flushed, “shut up.” gojo just grins, enjoying the effect he's having on the other sorcerer, “what's wrong, na-na-mi? can't handle a little heat?”

geto grins, continuing to tease nanami, “yeah, looks like you're finally overheating, nanami. maybe you should take a break from that book and enjoy the scenery.” which he means by scenery is your chest. gojo pour fuel to the fire, looking at you with a smirk, “well, what do you say, y/n? want to save na-na-mi from melting?” nanami glares at gojo and geto, his cheeks now turning more pink than before. he keeps his focus on his book, yet there's an undeniable flutter in his chest.

geto continues, “you know, i bet you could cool down even more if you undid a couple more buttons,” he says that last part without even an ounce of shame, which gets him another glare from nanami. gojo, ever the instigator, smirks at geto's words, “now you're talking. i'm curious to see if that would help, honestly.”

nanami rolls his eyes at their constant bickering, but he can't help but feel a flutter in his chest when he imagines you taking off your uniform. he clears his throat, trying to maintain his composure, “knock it off, you two. stop being so inappropriate.”

gojo and geto, of course, ignore his plea and continue their teasing. gojo leans forward to you as he sits on the table across from you, his voice dropping to a lower, more intimate tone, “you know, i could help you undo those buttons if you want.” you can't help but blush at the suggestion, feeling a bit flustered by gojo-stupid-satoru's boldness, “fuck off, satoru!” you throw your book at the white-haired boy, “always a fucking pervert,” you mumble loud enough for your friends to hear.

geto barks out a laugh at your reaction, clearly enjoying the show, “ah, there it is. that's the y/n we know and love.” gojo grins as he dodges the book effortlessly, his eyes still fixed on you, “oh come on, don't be like that. i'm just trying to offer my services here, love,” he smugly said. even nanami can't help but snicker at your response, his irritation momentarily fading as he glances in your direction.

“seriously,” gojo says, a smirk playing on his lips, “just imagine it. i could help you take off those pesky buttons one by one. slowly, gently.” geto grins, clearly enjoying gojo's suggestive tone and your reaction. “oh, i can already picture it. the look on your face would be priceless.” just like how they fuck you the night before’ geto thought.

nanami finally looks up from his book again, his eyes flickering in your direction. he can't deny that the image gojo is painting is getting to him, and his cheeks flush a deep pink. gojo leans back on the table— back almost touching the wall, his arms stretched behind his head as if he hasn't a care in the world, “you know, you'd look even better without that uniform anyway.”

geto adds, his expression sly, “yeah, i wouldn't mind seeing a little more skin.” he lays back on the grass, his arms under his head. of course they don't, at least not after that night. “you know,” he says, “it's not like there's anyone else around. we could probably get away with doing some pretty lewd things right now and no one would ever know.”

he shoots a sly glance in your direction, clearly enjoying the idea. gojo smirks, stretching casually as he nods at whatever geto's said, “oh, i like the way you think, suguru.” nanami shoots both of them a glare but doesn't say anything. he can't deny that the thought has crossed his mind as well, but he's too dignified to admit it.

seeing nanami's reaction you can feel your beating faster and the heat from the sun running through your blood straight to your cheeks. you pull books out of geto's bag beside you before throwing them to the two shameless hyenas. “stop putting things on na-na-mi's mind! you two are insufferable!” your voice wavering with annoyance.

feeling your cheeks start to burn, again, as your mind plays a split second of your activity with gojo and geto a few days ago, you walk over to shoved gojo's chest lightly before muttering, “asshole.” before walking back to the table across from him and sit your ass back to your original position— not forgot to kick geto's leg on your way back.

gojo snickers as you shove him, enjoying the reaction he's gotten out of you, “oh, come on. don't be mad.” geto joins in, his tone teasing but lightheartedly, “yeah, we were just messing with you.”

“can't even let you kids alone for a second, and now i heard some fighting,” shoko's voice could be heard, followed by a long sigh. you could see a plastic bag on her hand while a joint in the other with yuu haibara following from behind. you perk up at the sight of the girl, a wide grin forming on your face. “ah, my baby shoko! finally some company is worth tolerating. did you buy me the ice cream?”

shoko gives you a small smile, her usual laid-back expression never faltering, “of course. how could i not get my favorite sugar-addict some much-needed ice cream?”

yuu, trailing slightly behind shoko, gives you a wave, “hey, y/n. hope these two idiots aren't giving you a hard time.” geto and gojo, hearing yuu's comment, both let out a mock-offended scoff, clearly unbothered by the jab. pouting as you look at your classmates, yuu haibara always the soft one sitting himself beside you at the edge of the table. “they always give me a hard time,” your voice no longer lingers with annoyance as you talk to the boy, clearly different from before.

seeing the change in your behavior as you talk to yuu, geto and gojo rolled their eyes. shoko hands the ice cream to you, she glances over at gojo and geto, her eyes narrowing slightly, “what are you idiots up to now?”

geto grins cheekily at shoko as he stretches out again, “oh, nothing much. just having a bit of harmless fun.” gojo nods, and flashes shoko a smile, his eyes flickering over to you and yuu. “yeah, we were just talking about how hot it is today.” shoko rolls her eyes, clearly not convinced by their innocent facade, “yeah, right. i know you two. i'm sure you're plotting something mischievous.” geto push himself off the grass before dusting his pants and sit beside gojo.

“i swear if idiots could fly this school would be a fucking airport,” nanami mutters under his breath as he shake his head. his eyes throwing a look at gojo and geto before back to his book. you snicker the moment the words go through your ears before laughing.

both gojo and geto roll their eyes at nanami's words, clearly unbothered by his disapproving attitude. gojo, spotting the joint in shoko's hand, immediately perks up. “hey, share some of that, shoko,” he says, holding out his hand expectantly.

shoko shoots him an unimpressed look, “buy your own.” gojo huffs dramatically, “come on, don’t be like that. i’m suffering in this heat. just a little bit?” nanami just shakes his head, while geto chuckles at gojo’s persistent begging.

“me first, me first,” you tug shoko's uniform.

shoko rolls her yes lets out a weary sigh, her expression unchanged, “ah, there's the drug addict i know.” her resistance to the boys' pleas wearing thin. she sigh, voice dripping with defeated, “alright, you brats. you're all like a bunch of beggars.” she hands the joint to you first, before passing it to geto next, and finally to gojo.

“i swear, you guys are such a pain in the ass.” she mutters, though there's a hint of fondness in her tone. as gojo takes the joint, he grins widely, clearly pleased with himself, “aww, we know you love us, shoko.”

geto chuckles at his comment, taking a drag before passing it to yuu. he added, “yeah, we're like the three stooges, you can't get rid of us that easily,” referring to himself, gojo and you. nanami snort, “yeah, right, more like the three nuisances.” geto takes the next hit, the smoke swirling around his face before he lets out a contented sigh, “yeah, finally. now we're talking.”

yuu, still sitting beside you, can't help but chuckle at his friends' antics, “i swear, you three look like a bunch of potheads sometimes.” gojo lets out a mock-offended gasp, his eyes widening, “how dare you. we're not potheads. we're connoisseurs of recreational relaxation.”

geto snickers, adding, “yeah, we're exploring different states of consciousness for medicinal purposes.” nanami, clearly exasperated by their excuses before reaching his arm to take the next puff, “yeah, medicinal purposes, my ass.” hearing your snorts, clearly amused by the blonde's response. with mockery in your voice while faintly nodding your head you joked, “yeah, that's a nice way of saying we like to get high as often as possible.”

shoko rolls her eyes but doesn't protest, used to their shenanigans by now. “ah, i swear one of these days you guys are going to smoke yourselves stupid,” she mutters. geto grins, taking another drag before passing the joint to you. “what can we say? we just enjoy the finer things in life.”

gojo nods in agreement, his eyes already starting to glaze slightly, “yeah, we're philosophers of sorts. exploring the boundaries of our minds and whatnot.”

yuu rolled his eyes, grins at their responses before he takes a puff himself, “yeah, you're all philosophers, alright. the three wise men— stoned edition.” shoko can't help but snicker at yuu's comment, clearly finding their behavior amusing despite her facade of annoyance. “ah, the three wise men on a never-ending journey to find their inner peace in a cloud of smoke.”

nanami snicker, now fully closed his book as he takes a bottle of ramune from the plastic bag that shoko brought, “more like the three idiots on a never-ending journey to find a brain cell.” offended, you puff a smoke out of your lips before giving nanami an offended look, “hey, i'm smarter than these two fuckers, alright?” your fingers pointing at geto and gojo, joint still intact between your fingers.

gojo and geto feign shock, pretending to be insulted by your words. “hey, we take offense to that,” gojo protests. get corrected, “yeah, we have brain cells. somewhere.” shoko chuckles at— more like a scoff, “oh, please. we all know you two share a singular brain cell, and it's permanently on vacation.” yuu grins at her comment, nodding his head before agreeing, “yeah, it goes on a vacation every time you light up a joint.”

gojo laughs, his eyes still a bit glassy from the drug as he looks at you. “aww, that's cute. you think being smarter than us is an accomplishment.”

a smirk playing on his lips, geto argued, “just because you scored higher on a few tests, doesn't make you a freaking genius.” you cross your arms, feigning indignance taking an offended with his words, you bark with your finger pointing at yourself, “hey now. i'll have you know, i'm a lot smarter than you idiots give me credit for.”

nanami rolls his eyes, adding with his expression still as stern as ever, “yeah, like that's something to brag about.”

shoko chuckles at your response, clearly enjoying the playful rage between all of you, “yeah, she's smart. just don't ask her to do basic math. she'll probably look at you like you're speaking a foreign language.”

yuu laughs at shoko's comment, chiming in, “yeah, she's book smart, not street smart. she'd probably get lost trying to find her way out of a paper bag.” gojo grins, clearly satisfied with the jabs at your expense, “yeah, she's smart in theory, but in practice...”

geto added to your fire with his tone teasing but playful, “yeah, she's got a head full of knowledge but zero common sense.” nanami raises an eyebrow, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips, taking a liking to how his friends started teasing you. “come on, guys, don't be like that, she's good at memorizing facts, just don't puts her in a real-world situation and it's game over,” yuu berated his friends even though his word says otherwise.

you give yuu a light smack on his stomach before laughing, “shut up,” you protest, slightly annoyed by their teasing, “i swear every time you guys talk i'm seven years old again.” yuu chuckles, rubbing his stomach playfully before sticking his tongue out at you, “aww, is someone feeling a little sensitive about their lack of common sense?” shoko grins, enjoy your annoyance as much as the rest of your friends, “yeah, you're definitely showing your youthful side right now.”

gojo and geto's grins widen, having a moment with the chance to poke fun at you, “oh, you're acting so mature,” gojo teases.

geto adds, “uh-uh, like a petulant child.”

you rolled your eyes, annoyed, “whatever.”

you open the package of your ice cream and notice how it's already half melting because of the heat wave, “aw man, my ice cream melting.” geto snickers, “yeah, maybe that's what happens when you spend too much time talking crap and not enough time enjoying your snack.” he wiggle his eyebrows together when you throw him a glare before focusing back to your half melted ice cream.

you pout at all four of them, feeling a mix of annoyance and amusement, “why are you all so mean to me?” yuu grins, clearly enjoying the chance to poke fun. “aww, don't pout. we're just teasing you because we love you,” he lean in to give your cheek a kiss.

shoko smirks, her eyes sparkling with mischief, “yeah, and besides, you make it so easy.” gojo grins wider and eyes glimmering with amusement, “right, you're like a punching bag for our jokes.” shoko, who’s been enjoying the banter, pipes in, “maybe you could lick it off the wrapper. improvise.” you look down at your half-melted ice cream, contemplating whether to eat it straight from the wrapper or not. “yeah right, like i'd lick it off the wrapper like some kind of savage,” you protested.

gojo, geto, and yuu all burst into laughter at your protests, satisfied with your reaction, as always: so easy. shoko snickers, a smirk on her face, “oh, come on. where’s your sense of adventure?”

gojo wiping away a tear of laughter, open his mouth again to pester you, “yeah, live a little. stick out your tongue and taste the wrapper.” yuu chimes in with a wide grin, clearly enjoying himself with your misfortune, “yeah, embrace your inner beast. lick that wrapper clean.”

geto smirks, enjoying the opportunity to tease you even further, “or are you too much of a princess to get your hands dirty?” he, always knows which button to push. you raised your eyebrows, suddenly feeling challenged by his comments. they know one thing about you: you love proving them wrong, and you hate losing. and you, yourself know that they're doing it on purpose.

so you stick your tongue out, giving the wrapper kitten-lick as your eyes lock with the two boys across from you before fully, slowly licking the wrapper, making it as sensual as possible. and all at once, gojo and geto's minds suddenly flashed an image from a week ago where you gave them head.

gojo and geto's eyes widen as you start to lick the wrapper. the sight, as innocent as it might seem to the others, reminds both of them of something far less so. their cheeks flush red as their minds suddenly flash back to the moment from a week ago with you.

yuu, noticing the change in their expressions, raises an eyebrow, “are you guys alright? you look a bit flushed.” shoko, being more observant, smirks as she notices the similarity between your action and their reaction. you snort before throwing the wrapper on the ground and putting the ice cream in your mouth. a faint mumble could be heard from you, “pussy.”

gojo and geto, still reeling from the unintentional but reminiscent display, are left speechless. their faces continue to burn red as they struggle to keep their cool, trying not to think too much about what your action had reminded them of.

shoko, her smirk growing wider, glances at them and snickers, making a mental note of their reaction. nanami, having watched the entire exchange, rolls his eyes and mutters under his breath, “idiots are so easy to read.”

geto, trying to compose himself, clears his throat and forces a smile onto his face, “nah, we're just... distracted.” gojo, joining in, adds in a slightly shaky voice, “yeah, distracted. by how absurd that display was.” he pointed his finger at you, “did you really need to make that so sensually?” yuu snickers at gojo's comment, while shoko rolls her eyes again and nanami just mutters ‘idiots’ once more.

you, on the other hand, feign innocence as you lick the ice cream, a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. “what do you mean, sensually? i was just simply licking the wrapper, like a normal person would,” your voice dripping with innocuousness.

gojo and geto exchange a look, knowing that your feigned innocence is just a mask to cover up the fact that you knew exactly what you were doing. gojo tries to keep his composure as he retorts, “yeah, right. that was the least innocent licking i've ever seen.”

geto adds while struggling to keep his mind from wandering, “you definitely knew what you were doing. don't play coy now.” shoko, enjoying their obvious flustered state, can't help but tease them further, “oh, really? distracted by how 'sensual' it was? what's so special about licking an ice cream wrapper that you two are acting so awkwardly?”

yuu, oblivious to the hidden truth, chimes in with a confused expression, “guys, it was just a wrapper,” his voice dripping with confusion. you continue to maintain your innocent facade, licking the ice cream nonchalantly.

gojo and geto's faces flush even deeper as shoko's remark hits the mark, and they struggle to come up with a response that wouldn't give away their true thoughts. yuu, oblivious to the hidden context, looks innocently confused while nanami mutters under his breath and choose to playing with his phone, “ignore them, ignore them.”

you look up to meet their gaze, eyes glued to you. silently you are eating your ice cream, eyes never leaving them as you lick your ice cream from the bottom to the top before bottom out your ice cream. you smile as your tongue licks the bottom of your ice cream, a few times slurping the melted ice away before putting the ice cream back inside your mouth, didn't really pay any attention as your friends keep plastering gojo and geto.

gojo and geto's gazes remain fixated on you as you continue to lick the ice cream in such a manner, their faces turning even more flustered and their minds racing with inappropriate thoughts. shoko, who is enjoying the show, can't help but tease them further, “look at you two, practically drooling over there. something you'd like to share with the rest of us?”

gojo and geto quickly turn their heads away, unable to hold your gaze any longer. they try to play it cool, but their flushed faces and the occasional glances they steal in your direction betray their true feelings. yuu, still in the dark, looks at them curiously, “why are you guys acting so weird? it's just an ice cream.”

shoko, enjoying the power she has over them, gives them a mischievous smirk, “yeah, seriously guys. what's up with you two?”

“yeah, guys, it's just ice cream,” you said after finishing your ice cream. gojo rolled his eyes, finally gaining composure, just a little before he threw a comment, “oh please, nobody eats ice cream like that.” geto chimed in, trying to regain some control over the situation, “yeah! nobody eats ice cream so... seductively.”

shoko snickered, clearly enjoying the spectacle, “oh, really? i didn't notice anything out of the ordinary,” she said, feigning ignorance. geto nods in agreement, trying to regain his own composure as he adds, looking at shoko, “she was basically giving that ice cream the full treatment.”

gojo added, trying so hard to point his finger at your act for everyone to notice, a hint of irritation in his voice, “she was practically making out with that ice cream.”

nanami, start to enjoy the moment as ever, laugh at their comments, “come on, that's just ridiculous. it's just ice cream.” shoko can't help but smirk at gojo and geto's comments, enjoying their flustered states, “yeah, it's just a little ice cream. no big deal.”

gojo mutters under his breath, “like hell it is.”

geto adds, trying to sound nonchalant, “yeah, it's not like watching her eat that ice cream was... distracting or anything.”

“you two watch too much porn,” nanami said as he took a sip of his ramune. gojo and geto's faces burn even redder at nanami's comment. “what? no, we don't,” they protest, simultaneously, their voices are a little too defensive, breaking here and there with a high-pitched when they say ‘what?’

shoko rolls her eyes, clearly enjoying their discomfort, “yeah, sure you don't.”

yuu looks at them with a mixture of disbelief and amusement, clearly wondering what was going through their minds. before they get a chance to answer, yaga's voice rings out, bringing an end to the tension-filled moment. all hell breaks loose as everyone scrambles to react.

gojo grabs your hand, tugging you in the opposite direction from your teacher. he hollers, “run!” geto follows closely behind, the three of you separating from nanami, shoko, and haibara, who turn left. you grab your bag, heart pounding in your chest as you all try to evade yaga's wrath. as you run, you can hear your teacher's voice growing louder behind you, “get back here, you damn brats!”

laughter and the sound of footsteps fill the air as you and gojo and geto sprint away from yaga, trying to get as much distance as possible before he catches up. “come on, faster,” gojo calls out as you run, his hand still gripping yours tightly. “fuck, we can't let him catch us,” geto laugh, panting as he runs alongside you.

yaga's voice echoes behind you, growing louder and more urgent, “don't you dare run away, you brats!”

“fuck, my cigs!” you could hear shoko's voice faintly from behind you. “just let it be!” nanami's voice followed along, tightening his hand around shoko's wrist as he kept pulling the girl to run for her life. despite the panic, you can't help but chuckle at the scene playing out behind you.

gojo pulling you to the empty class and locked the door— hiding behind the door as they sandwiched you. you can feel their heart pounding on your front and your back. gojo leans against the closed door, pressing his body against your front, while geto stands behind you, his chest heaving against your back. both of them are trying to catch their breaths, the adrenaline from the chase still coursing through their veins.

gojo grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief, “that was close, too close.”

geto chuckles at gojo's comment, “shit, i thought we were goners for a moment there,” he laughed a little as he tried to catch his breath.

once gojo's eyes meet your face, a grin kissing his lips. he wraps his arm around you, “now we finally have time for ourselves, do you know how hard it is for me to pretend like i don't care after that stunt you pull earlier with the ice cream?” you playfully pout at his remark, leaning into his embrace. “oh, did you not enjoy the show? i thought i caught your attention quite well.”

gojo smirks back, his eyes drifting down to your lips. “oh, you caught my attention alright. you had me completely entranced.” geto snorts from behind you, his hands resting on your hips. “yeah, we were practically drooling over you. but you already knew that, didn’t you?”

“you guys are being an asshole, there,” you pout. “so i try to give you some hard time like you did to me in front of nanami, what if i actually take off my uniform? want everyone to know our little secret?” your eyebrows knit together softly when you gaze at the blue pale irises. nobody knows about your little secret with geto suguru and gojo satoru. pretend to be friends in front of the others after they fuck you to oblivious the night before, but friends, right? both boys snicker at your threat, their eyes sparkling with mischief.

gojo smirks, his hand tracing small patterns on your hip, before pulling you toward him a little, “oh please, like you don’t love the thrill of it all.” geto chuckled behind you, his hands beginning to roam over your body, “yeah, we all know you’re no angel. you get off on pushing our buttons just as much as we do.” your cheeks flushed pink as their hands continue to linger on your body, their teasing words only making you feel more flustered.

gojo continues, his voice low and sultry. “you like knowing you have that kind of power over us.” geto agrees as his hands wander further up your sides, “yeah, you love driving us crazy. it’s all a game to you, isn’t it?”

you scrunch your nose for a second, “is it?”

“and if you did take off your uniform, we would be the first to know,” gojo adds, his voice low and husky. “yeah,” geto agrees, his hands slowly pulling at the hem of your shirt. “we would be the only ones who would get that privilege.” you giggle, wrapping your arm around gojo's neck before pulling him down a little, “think i spoil you guys too much.”

both boys chuckle at your comment, clearly enjoying your playful banter. gojo grins as his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you even closer to him. “oh, you definitely spoil us.” geto smirks, his hands continuing to wander over your sides, slipping beneath your shirt, craving for more of your skin, “yeah, we’re practically spoiled brats when it comes to you. but you love it, don’t you?” nodding, you lean down to gojo's neck, kissing the boy as you hummed, “mmh-mm.”

gojo moans at the feeling of your lips against his neck, his hands gripping your waist a little bit tighter. he leans his head to the side, giving you better access to his neck, his eyes fluttering shut as he enjoys the sensation. geto smirks, watching as you kiss gojo, his hands still roaming over your sides. he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “you’re such a tease.”

gojo wrapped his arm around you when you pulled your face away. he pulled you to the wooden table on the front row, sitting on the edge with you between his legs while geto walked over to the teacher's table and sitting on the chair, pulling his phone out and cigarettes, letting gojo have you for a moment before his turn.

gojo chuckles as he tugs you closer, his legs trapping you between them. he leans back on the edge of the table, looking up at you with a smirk on his face. “you’re all mine for a moment,” he whispers, his eyes tracing up and down your body. geto watches from the teacher’s table, an amused smile on his face as he lights up a cigarette and scrolls through his phone.

your heart races in your chest as gojo's eyes rove over your body, his smirk sending a shiver down your spine. you try to keep your composure, but something about his gaze makes you feel completely bare and vulnerable.

gojo leans in closer, his hands coming to rest on your waist. “you know how bad i’ve been wanting to touch you like this?” you smile, tighten your arm around his neck as you draw him close with your lips almost touching his, “i don't know, tell me.”

gojo grins wickedly, his large hands sliding down to grip your ass possessively as he pulls you flush against him. “i've been dreaming about having you all to myself, just like this,” he growls lowly, his hot breath fanning across your lips, “wanted to strip you naked right here in class and show everyone who you belong to.”

he punctuates his words with a sharp nip to your bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth and soothing the sting with his tongue. one hand slides up under your shirt, fingers skimming along the sensitive skin of your lower back. “i'm going to mark every inch of you up later,” he promises darkly, nuzzling into your neck and biting down hard enough to leave a vivid hickey.

“ahh!” a moan leaving your lips as you feel him biting down on your neck, hard. his large hands gripping your ass, intentionally pulling your skirt up to flash geto your underwear. gojo's fingers dig into your ass cheeks harder, kneading them roughly as he bites down again, marking you with his teeth. his other hand moves higher, slipping beneath your shirt to caress your back. he smirks against your neck, feeling proud of himself for making you moan so loud in public.

“suguru can see everything,” he murmurs against your skin, knowing exactly what kind of view he'd given their teacher, “and i bet he loves seeing you like this.” gojo, still clinging to you like a second skin, leads you to the back row of the empty classroom, sitting in the chair and pulls you onto his lap. he positions you so that you're straddling him, your knees resting on either side of his thighs. he wraps his arms around your waist, his touch possessive and firm, roaming over your body.

geto, noticing the change in location, gets up from the teacher's desk and slowly makes his way over to join the two of you. he takes a seat at the desk next to gojo, lighting another cigarette as he does. as soon as you settle onto gojo's lap, he grips your hips tightly, grinding his hardness against your core. a low groan escapes him, his eyes closing in bliss as he savors the sensation of being so intimately connected to you.

“you feel incredible,” he whispers, nipping at your earlobe before trailing open-mouthed kisses down your neck. his hands roam freely over your body, squeezing your breasts through your shirt, dipping between your thighs to rub at your clit through your panties.

meanwhile, geto observes the scene with a heated gaze, taking slow drags of his cigarette as he watches gojo lose himself on you. gojo has you panting and writhing on his lap. there was no denying the heat in his gaze as he observed every move you made together. he exhaled a cloud of smoke, his eyes never leaving your form.

gojo lets out a deep, rumbling moan as you start moving your hips against him and your fingers hold on tightly on his shoulder. your wet heat rubbing along his thick length through your clothes. his hands squeeze your ass tighter, fingers digging into your flesh as he urges you on.

“that's it baby, ride my cock just like that,” he encourages, his voice husky with desire. as you grind against him, gojo reaches up to cup your breasts, thumbing over your nipples through your uniform. the friction combined with his touch sends sparks of pleasure coursing through your veins, making you even more desperate for relief.

geto watches intently, his own arousal evident in the bulge growing in his pants. he takes another drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke out slowly as he drinks in the sight of you pleasuring yourself on gojo's lap.

you keeps on grinding on gojo's clothes cock, as you rest your cheek on his shoulder and turn to your right to look at geto. moaning and grinding as you look at him.

“fuck—” you whimpering.

geto's eyes darken with lust as you meet his gaze, your needy little whimpers filling the air. he stubs out his cigarette, tossing it aside carelessly as he rises from his seat and stalks towards you. gojo notices geto approaching, a wicked grin spreading across his face. he slides one hand up your thigh, pushing your skirt out of the way to expose your soaked panties to geto's hungry eyes.

“there you go, baby,” gojo purrs encouragingly as you continue to grind on his rock-hard erection. “let suguru see what a dirty girl you are for us.”

geto looms behind you, leaning down to press his lips to your ear. “that's right, princess,” he murmurs, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. geto leans in closer, pressing his body against yours from behind. his hands come up to cup your breasts, thumbs rolling over your hardened nipples through your shirt.

“such a good slut,” he purrs in your ear, his breath hot against your skin, “wet and leaking for satoru.” his other hand slips between your thighs, pulling your panties to the side and teasing his finger tips over your slick folds. “suck on ’toru's cock, baby,” geto whispers in your ear, smiling as he look at the white-haired boy. gojo return the smiled, “why don't you show me some tricks like you did with the ice cream before, hm?” gently, he cups your cheek.

geto back to sit on the table next to yours while you go down between gojo's legs with your knees press against the wooden floor, getting uncomfortable. without breaking eye contact with the special grade sorcerer, you kiss his clothes twitching cock before licking a damp on his pants where his precum leak through his pants.

gojo groans, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through his body. he looks down at you, his eyes locking with yours as his breath hitches in his throat, “oh, god, that feels so good,” he tears another hoarse groan when he throws his head back for a second. your hands deftly undo his uniform buttons until his abs are revealed. you gently caress his chest, a thrill of excitement coursing through you as you notice his happy trails. with a playful smile, you place a tender kiss on them.

gojo lets out another low moan as your hands begin to unbutton his uniform, his muscles tensing under your touch. he watches you as you kiss his happy trail, his eyes burning with desire. “you’re so good at this, baby,” he says, his voice a little hoarse.

gojo shivers at your touch, his abs flexing under your fingers. he lets out a soft moan as you kiss his happy trail, his hands gripping the edge of the table. “fuck. . . you’re driving me crazy,” he whispers.

gojo lets out a strangled moan as you kiss, lick and nibble on his abs. he can feel your hands on his hips, holding him in place, and it only drives him wilder with need. “oh god, baby,” he gasps, his hips arching up off the table involuntarily. geto watches from his seat, his eyes narrowing as he takes another drag from his cigarette. his jaw is slightly clenched, and he seems to be struggling to keep his own excitement in check.

gojo looks down at you, his eyes burning with desire. he can hardly keep himself still as you keep going, his body twitching and trembling with need. he reaches down, grabbing a handful of your hair and gently tugging it. “look at me,” he commands. you look up at gojo, meeting his intense gaze. his eyes are like pools of molten lava, burning with a hunger that only you can satisfy. he loosens his grip on your hair, gently stroking it instead. “you’re so goddamn beautiful, you know that?”

“am i?” you whisper. your pretty, sparkling eyes looking through gojo's soul as you painfully slow unfasten his belt. gojo watches you with hooded eyes, a lazy smile playing on his lips as he threads his fingers through your hair. gojo nods, his hand continuing to caress your hair. “yes, you are. you have no idea how much you drive me wild.” he gazes down at you, his eyes burning with desire and affection. “you’re the most gorgeous girl i’ve ever laid my eyes on,” he whispered. he bites down on his bottom lip, trying not to moan too loudly in response to your teasing tongue after it touches his abs for the second time.

he shifts slightly in his seat, allowing you better access to his throbbing member. you can practically see him grow longer and wider under your touch, the tip glistening with pre-cum. once freed from its confines, his impressive size stands proudly before you, a clear sign of how much he desires you. the head of his dick pulses, leaking pre-cum faster now that it’s been exposed.

seeing how eager gojo is for you only fuels your excitement further as you lick along his length from base to tip with slow deliberate licks. you swirl your tongue around the head of gojo's cock, collecting the pre-cum on your taste buds. the salty-sweet flavor explodes in your mouth, spurring you on to take him deeper. with a gentle suction, you envelop the first few inches of his shaft in your warm, wet mouth. your tongue dances along the underside, tracing the prominent vein while your hands continue to caress his chiseled abdomen.

“jesus, y/n...” gojo lets out a soft groan, his grip on your hair tightening ever so slightly. he watches with rapt attention as you bob your head up and down, taking more of him with each pass. from his perch on the table, he watches the erotic display unfold below him with his own cock strains against his pants, clearly eager for attention.

geto, who just lighten another cigarette, hold it between his left fingers after a faintly notification ring. he holds his phone on the other to look at the notification— a message from yuu. he reads a message from his underclassmen and chuckled, telling gojo that yaga caught shoko and nanami.

gojo’s eyes flicker up to geto when a chuckle passes his lips as the raven reads the message. “sounds like shoko and nanami got in trouble,” he says, a smirk on his face between his grunt, hand tightly around your hair. “l-looks like they’re the ones in the— fuck! doghouse n-now.” gojo rolls his eyes at the news, his attention still on you. “of course they got caught,” geto mutters, taking another puff with eyes still on the screen before adding, “those idiots have no sense of subtlety.”

he is smiling as he runs his hand on your hair, gently caressing them while his hips thrustin to your throat making his balls constantly slapping with your chin. “don't you think baby?” he ask. you— the girl who's cursing and calling him an asshole hour ago and now getting her throat fucked, going up and down on gojo-stupid-satoru's cock, only nodding.

gojo smiles as you nod, his hand continuing to gripping through your hair. he seems amused by the situation, enjoying having you at his mercy like this. geto puffs on his cigarette and watches the two of you from his seat, his eyes lingering on your lips around gojo's pink cock. “looks like you’re having fun down there,” he comments, a smirk on his face before chuckle.

gojo chuckles at geto’s comment, his hand giving your hair a harsh tug to push your head down to his cock until your nose touches his skin, forcing you to take his cock down to your throat. “shit!—” gojo groan, throwing his head back while you crying under his mercy and nail digging to his thigh. “she’s doing such a good job, so—ah! f-fucking good. . .” he mumble, back to fixed his eyes on you after he let you pushed yourself away from his cock, choking with tear down to your cheeks and chin wet from your saliva. “fuck, satoru, i can't fucking breath!” you look at him with tears in your eyes and lashes damp.

gojo chuckles at your words, his heart racing as he watches you come up for air. he gently wipes away the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs, his gaze softening. “you did so well, baby,” he praises gently, his hand caressing the side of your face. geto lets out a low whistle from his seat, his eyes dark with desire. “god, you do look good like that.” gojo looks up at him, his eyes darkened with lust and a hint of ownership. “you see what i mean? she’s so goddamn perfect.”

geto nods in agreement, his eyes roaming over your body with unabashed hunger. “oh, we’re definitely keeping you all to ourselves.”

“come here,” gojo hand meets your hair once again, “we're not done yet, baby,” his deep voice gently lures you in, again, like it always did. he pushed your head towards his tight, “i'm gonna spoil you rotten after this, don't worry.” he leaned down to kiss your forehead before tugging your hair signaling for you to continue what you were doing.

“now be a good girl and finish what you started,” he husks, his eyes dark with desire. you feel another wave of heat wash over you as gojo's deep voice calls you back to him, his hand gently yet firmly guiding you towards his lap. you shiver as he kisses your forehead, his touch sending a spark of pleasure through your body. and when he tugs your hair, you can't help but comply, your body automatically moving back into position.

gojo lets out a low, possessive growl as you return to him. “that's my good girl,” he praises. you feel a shiver run down your spine at gojo's words, your body responding immediately to the low timber of his voice. you lean into his touch, letting him guide you back down to him, your heart racing with excitement. you can feel his body trembling slightly as you get closer to him, his muscles tense with anticipation. your lips are practically touching his length, your breath hot against his skin.

gojo's hand is still in your hair, and he gives it a slight tug, pressing your face closer to his still-hard cock. “go on, baby,” he coaxes softly. “make me feel good.”

with each languid lick you give his cock, gojo's grip tightens in your hair. he tilts his hips up, thrusting his length deeper into your mouth. his breathing grows heavier, a soft groan escaping him as he watches you work him over. the taste of his precum is intoxicating, making your mouth water for more. you swirl your tongue around the head of his dick, coating it thoroughly before sucking him into your mouth.

the warmth of your mouth envelops him completely, causing him to hiss through clenched teeth, “fuck. . . just like that.” you can feel his hands on your body, gently yet firmly guiding your movements as you continue your task. gojo's eyes are darkened with desire as he watches you, his gaze fixed on your every move. he loves seeing you like this, completely submissive to his commands.

“you’re so beautiful like this,” he whispers, his voice thick with arousal, “so obedient. so perfect for us.” gojo's hips buck involuntarily as you deepen the suction, your throat constricting around his girth. he throws his head back, a string of curse words falling from his lips as he loses himself in the pleasure of your oral skills. your hands move to his balls, gently massaging them as you bob your head up and down his shaft. each stroke brings you closer to the root, your nose brushing against the wiry hairs at the base of his cock.

gojo's fingers tighten in your hair, guiding your movements as he grunts and moans, lost in the blissful sensations you're providing. the room fills with the sounds of slurping, sucking, and gojo's increasingly erratic breathing.

gojo's control starts slipping away as you continue to worship his cock with such enthusiasm. his hips begin thrusting upwards instinctively, seeking more of your warm, wet mouth. a low growl rumbles in his chest as he watches you work him over so skillfully. “shit... i'm gonna cum if you keep going like this...”

his warning comes out strained and ragged, but there's no real conviction behind it. instead, he pushes your head down further onto his cock, urging you to take all of him inside your mouth once again. gojo's control snaps, his orgasm hitting him like a freight train. with a hoarse cry, he tenses, his cock pulsing violently as he spills his hot seed down your throat.

wave after wave of his release coats your tongue and the back of your mouth, the salty-sweet flavor overwhelming your senses. you swallow greedily, milking every last drop from his quivering member. as the aftershocks subside, gojo carefully pulls you off his spent cock, his chest heaving with exertion.

“you're incredible,” he rasps, still catching his breath, “i don't know what i'd do without you, baby.” he looks down at you with a mix of satisfaction and adoration, stroking your cheek affectionately, “you really know how to make a man feel good and bring them to their knees,” he says approvingly, gives your cheek a light pinch before pulling you up onto his lap.

his arms wrap around you tightly, holding you close against his chest. you can hear his heartbeat quickening again, signaling his arousal wasn't fully satiated yet. with a sly smirk, he presses his lips to yours in a deep, passionate kiss. his tongue explores your mouth eagerly, tasting himself on your lips. gojo chuckles softly between the kiss, his voice still rough from the intensity of his climax.

as the kiss breaks, gojo smirks down at you, his eyes glinting with mischief. “but let's not forget about our lovely suguru,” he whispers suggestively, nodding toward the other end of the table where geto is watching intently. he gestures for you to crawl over to geto while he cleans himself up. geto smirks, leaning back slightly on the table as he watches you two bask in the afterglow of gojo's climax. his eyes gleam with possessive pride, clearly pleased by the display of devotion between you and his best friend.

“i think we've established that by now,” geto drawls, taking a long drag from his cigarette. he exhales slowly, the smoke curling around his head as he regards you with a heated gaze. “but after my turn, we are not done with you yet, princess,” his voice deepen, soften.

he sets his cigarette aside, standing up from the table with a predatory grace. geto moves towards you, his movements fluid and deliberate, like a cat stalking its prey. “don't worry about satoru for now,” geto purrs, his voice low and seductive, “it's my turn to play with my favorite toy.”

geto reaches out, grabbing your wrist and pulling you to your feet. he spins you around, pressing you against the table as he leans in close behind you. his breath tickles your ear as he whispers, “time to show satoru just how well you can please two men at once.” his free hand slides up your thigh, pushing your skirt higher as he explores your wetness. “soaked and ready for me,” he murmurs approvingly, circling your clit with his thumb. “you love being used for our pleasure, don't you?”

“oh, suguru..” a soft moan escape from your lips.

without waiting for an answer, geto sinks two fingers deep inside you, pumping them in and out at a relentless pace. his other hand wraps around your waist, holding you steady as he fucks you with his fingers, making sure you feel every inch of his digits stretching you open.

between your whimpering and moaning you glance over at gojo, who's watching the scene unfold with rapt attention. his eyes are dark with desire, his cock already starting to stir again at the sight of geto claiming you so roughly.

too busy drinking on gojo's spend expression you don't realize geto positions himself between your spread thighs, lining up his thick erection with your entrance. without warning, he slams into you, burying himself to the hilt in one powerful thrust.

“oh god!” you cry out, your body arching off the table as geto's girth stretches you impossibly wide. he sets a brutal pace, pounding into you with reckless abandon, each stroke hitting that sweet spot deep inside you that sends sparks flying behind your eyelids. your hands gripping at nothing on the table while geto fuck your from behind.

gojo's gaze never leaves yours, his expression a mix of awe and hunger as he watches geto take you with such ferocity. “fuck, look at her take it,” geto's command sends a thrill through your body, heightening your arousal even further. as instructed, you look over at gojo, who is watching intently with half-lidded eyes and parted lips. seeing both men so focused on you, so consumed with desire, is incredibly arousing.

“s-suguru..” you gasp as geto aligns his throbbing cock with your slick entrance, teasing you with the head before plunging into your clenching walls once again. a loud moan rips from your throat as he buries himself to the hilt inside you, filling you completely. your palm nailed unstable against the tabletop, desperate for support.

each thrust is powerful and precise, designed to drive you insane with pleasure. geto's hands grip your hips tightly, anchoring you to him as he pounds into you relentlessly.

your cries of ecstasy fill the air, mingling with the lewd sound of skin slapping against skin as geto takes you hard and fast. sweat beads on your brow, trailing down your sides as he ravages your body, claiming you as his own.

gojo's gaze remains locked on the erotic spectacle, his cock twitching with renewed interest. “such a perfect little slut for us,” he praises, his voice husky with lust. “love seeing you get fucked senseless.”

geto picks up speed, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chases his own release. “gonna fill this cunt up,” he snarls, his fingers digging into your hips hard enough to leave marks. “make you mine, all mine.”

geto's declaration sends a shiver down your spine, his dominant words igniting a fire within you. you're lost in the intense pleasure of his possession, your mind foggy with need as he continues to pound into you mercilessly.

“yes, yes!” you cry out, your nails raking down his arm as the pleasure builds to an unbearable crescendo. “fill me up, suguru! claim me!“ geto's words send a shiver down your spine, his dominant tone igniting something primal within you. you meet his thrusts eagerly, rocking your hips to take him deeper, harder.

just when you think you can't take anymore, geto's movements become jerky and uncoordinated. with a guttural groan, he buries himself to the hilt one final time and holds still, his cock throbbing violently as he spills his hot seed deep inside you.

the sensation of his cum flooding your womb triggers your own climax, waves of pure bliss crashing over you as you come undone beneath him. his release triggers your own climax, and you come undone beneath him, screaming your pleasure for all to hear. your inner muscles clamp down around his spurting cock, milking him for every last drop as waves of ecstasy crash over you.

as the aftershocks of their shared climax ripple through your bodies, geto pulls out slowly, his cum leaking from your still quivering pussy. he steps back, admiring the sight of you sprawled across the table, panting and spent.

“perfect,” he murmurs appreciatively, his voice laced with satisfaction. he wipes his cum-covered length on your inner thigh, smearing you with evidence of his claim. gojo watches the entire exchange with hooded eyes, his own arousal evident by the bulge straining against his pants. “damn, suguru,” he says enviously, “i didn't know you could be so... gentle.”

the feelings of void inside you, the feeling of never getting enough of him making you crawl down from the table and get on your knee in front of geto. your warm hand takes his silk-with-cum cock into your hands, stroking it gently as your tongue licks his overly sensitive lip, cleaning his cum with your tongue.

geto's breath hitches as you tend to his spent cock, your tender ministrations a stark contrast to the rough fucking he just gave you. he leans back against the table, his eyes fluttering shut in bliss as you lap up every trace of his release.

“mmm, careful there,” he warns, his voice low and gravelly, “still super sensitive after that orgasm.” despite his words, geto doesn't pull away, seeming to enjoy the intimate act. his hands find their way to your hair, fingers threading through the strands as he guides your mouth along his shaft.

when you reach the tip, he tugs gently, encouraging you to swirl your tongue around the sensitive head. a shudder runs through him, and he lets out a contented sigh. “that's it, baby. clean me up nice and thorough.”

“umm..” you hummed against his length, slowly running your tongue from the base before moving under his mushroom tip. your thumb gently caressing his tip. geto's hips give a small jerk as your talented tongue explores every inch of his cock, from the heavy base to the delicate underside of the head. he hums in approval, his fingers tightening in your hair as he savors the sensations.

when you focus your attentions on the sensitive area beneath the tip, geto's breath catches. his cock twitches in your hand, and he lets out a low, needy moan. “fuck, just like that,” he encourages, his voice strained with pleasure, “use that clever tongue of yours.”

as you continue to worship his spent length, geto's other hand comes up to join the first, cradling your face as he guides your movements. his touch is gentle yet possessive, a reminder of the dominance he displayed earlier. despite being thoroughly used, he seems to crave more of your affection, your submission.

geto's chest rises and falls with each slow, deliberate lick you bestow upon his oversensitive cock. his hips twitch slightly, as if trying to follow the path of your tongue. the touch of your thumb to his lip elicits a soft moan, his head falling back in surrender.

“that's so good,” he breathes, his voice heavy with pleasure, “keep going like that, and i might just have to start getting hard again.” as if to prove his point, geto's cock twitches in your grasp, the tip already beginning to swell with renewed interest. you continue your sensual ministrations, determined to bring him to full mast once more.

geto's warning only spurs you on, your tongue dancing along his length with increased fervor. you can feel his cock growing harder in your hand, the veins pulsing with renewed blood flow. his moans grow louder, more desperate, as he loses himself to the pleasure you're providing.

“ah, fuck... right there,” he gasps, his hips bucking slightly as you focus your attention on the sensitive spot beneath the head. “don't stop, please...” geto's grip on your hair tightens, almost painfully so, but you don't mind. in fact, it only adds to the intensity of the moment, making you feel owned, claimed by this powerful man. you redouble your efforts, determined to bring him to the brink once more, to make him surrender completely to your skilled mouth.

your diligent efforts soon pay off, as geto's cock begins to thicken and lengthen in your hand. a bead of precum forms at the tip, glistening in the dim light of the room. his breathing grows ragged, and his fingers tighten in your hair, urging you on.

“nnngh, that's it,” he grunts, his hips rolling subtly as he tries to grind against your mouth, “want to feel that tongue on my cock again.” emboldened by his reaction, you redouble your efforts, swirling your tongue around the head and tracing the ridges of his shaft. geto's moans grow louder, more desperate, as he teeters on the brink of another climax.

“just a bit more,” he pleads, his voice strained with need, “need to cum again, baby. make me lose control.” geto's pleas for release fuel your desire to please him, to see him unravel beneath your touch. you increase the pace of your strokes, your tongue working overtime to bring him closer to the edge.

“fuck, yeah...“ he groans, his body tensing as he approaches the precipice. his cock pulses in your hand, the vein throbbing in time with his racing heartbeat. another bead of precum appears, this time dripping onto your waiting tongue.

“cum for me suguru,” you murmur against his length. encouraged by his responsiveness, you lean forward, taking the swollen head into your mouth. your lips stretch wide to accommodate his girth, your tongue flicking against the sensitive spot underneath.

“shit, right there,” he gasps, his voice laced with raw desire, “gonna... ahh, fuck, gonna cum.” you increase the pace of your ministrations, your tongue flicking over his length with relentless precision. each stroke sends a jolt of pleasure coursing through him, and he can't help but rock his hips in time with your movements.

“shit, that's it...” he groans, his eyes squeezed shut as he fights against the wave of pleasure building within him. “gonna fill your mouth this time, baby.” his cock pulses in your hand, the tip gushing with precum. you can taste it on your tongue, salty and musky, and it only serves to fuel your desire to bring him to completion.

with a few more expert strokes, geto reaches his limit. his body tenses, a low growl escaping his lips as he cums once more. geto's cock throbs in your hand as his orgasm hits, his thick seed spurting from the tip to coat your eager tongue. you swallow every drop, savoring the taste and texture of his release.

“mmm, tastes so good,” you murmur appreciatively, your lips still wrapped around his length. you continue to suckle softly, milking every last drop from his cock before finally pulling away. you look at the man as she shaking almost uncontrollably from the action, drawing a satisfied chuckle from your lips.

geto takes a deep, shaky breath, his chest rising and falling with the effort. his cock gives one final twitch, releasing a tiny trickle of cum onto your hand. he looks down at you, his eyes filled with a mix of satisfaction and exhaustion.

“you sure know how to handle a guy,” he says, his voice a husky whisper. he reaches out, brushing a strand of hair from your face with a tender touch that contrasts sharply with the roughness of moments ago.

“breathe, suguru,” you advise with a smirk, wiping a stray dribble of cum from the corner of your mouth. “you look like you've seen a ghost.” you chuckle as you stand up from your kneeling position before turning your attention to gojo, seeing him sitting on the table beside you with cigarettes between his fingers and phone on his other hand.

he then turns his gaze towards gojo, who was watching the entire display with evident fascination. “what do you think, satoru?” eto asks, a smug grin spreading across his face. “think she's got skills?” gojo raises an eyebrow, his expression unreadable behind the smoke curling from his cigarette, “she certainly does,”

hearing the praise fill the air, you lean toward gojo, placing both hands on the table as you close the distance between you and the white-haired man. “you think so?” you ask, smiling before giving him a quick kiss on the lips.

gojo leans into the kiss, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek as his tongue slips past your lips. he pulls back after a moment, a sly smile playing on his lips. “i knew you had potential when i first saw you,” he says, his voice low and husky. “but this... this is impressive even for you.”

he takes another drag from his cigarette, blowing the smoke out slowly as he regards you with a heated gaze. “i think we should celebrate your newfound skills properly,” he suggests, his eyes glinting with mischief. “how about a threesome with suguru here? we could really put those talents of yours to the test.”

you snort before scoffing— the mocking one with no bite, cleaning your clammy hands with a paper from geto's textbook. “yeah right, like hell i'll let you two have a threesome with me here, in this stupid school,” you retort before throwing the paper to the ground. gojo chuckles, the sound is rich and smooth like velvet. “oh, come now,” he coos, reaching out to trail a finger down your arm. “we wouldn't dream of doing anything inappropriate here, where anyone could walk in on us.”

he leans in closer, his warm breath tickling your ear as he whispers, “besides, i think suguru would be more than happy to join us somewhere private. don't you agree, big boy?” gojo glances over at geto, who's been quietly observing the exchange with a predatory gleam in his eye.

the suggestion seems to stir something within geto, because he suddenly stands up, towering over both of you. “i'm game if you are,” he rumbles, his voice deep and husky with desire. “but we should probably take this somewhere else.”

you laugh with no sense of humor at the mention that they don't want to do anything inappropriate at school. “funny how you mention you won't do anything inappropriate here while i just give you two heads and let you fuck me,” you again laugh, voice dripping with sarcasm as you turn to gojo, finger pointing at him for emphasis.

gojo arches an eyebrow at your pointed remark, a slow smile spreading across his face. “ah, but that's different,” he purrs, catching your finger and bringing it to his lips. he places a soft kiss on the pad of your fingertip before releasing it. “that was just a little preview of what's to come.”

he stands up, smoothing out his shirt as he moves to stand beside geto. the two of them loom over you, their combined presence overwhelming in the best possible way. “so, what do you say?“ gojo presses, his eyes locked on yours. “ready to take this party elsewhere and really let loose?”

geto nods in agreement, his own gaze intense and hungry as he waits for your response. it's clear they're not going to take no for an answer, but somehow, that only makes the prospect more enticing.

you scrunch your nose, “you two are hornballs, you know that right?”

both geto and gojo share a look, their amusement is clear despite the serious expressions on their faces. “well, when it comes to you, we seem to lose all reason,” gojo admits, his tone is light but sincere.

geto steps closer, his large frame casting a shadow over you. “and we don't mind admitting it,” he adds gruffly, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through you. “you make us forget our own names sometimes.”

he reaches out, tracing a finger down your cheek before slipping it behind your neck. his grip is firm yet gentle, pulling you closer until your bodies are almost touching. “so, what's it going to be?” he murmurs against your lips. “are you ready to lose yourself to us?”

just when you and geto start having fun, gojo's voice annoyingly rings in the room. “as much as i enjoy having fun here, i think we need to leave,” he shifts from his phone to the two of you.

waving his phone in the air, “just got a text from yuu that yaga is still looking for us.” geto lets out a low growl of frustration as gojo announces that yaga is still looking for them. he clearly doesn't want to stop, but he knows they have to be careful not to get caught.

“what is wrong with him?” you groan in annoyance as geto help you fix your uniform, “yaga acting like he's never young when he's worse than us,” you grumble in annoyance. gojo chuckles at your frustration, a sympathetic expression on his face. “yeah, he’s just being yaga.”

geto finishes fixing your uniform, his fingers deftly adjusting the collar and straightening the hem. “yaga's just trying to keep us in line,” he says, though there's a hint of bitterness in his voice. despite his words, he can't deny that yaga has a point— they shouldn't be causing trouble when they have bigger issues to deal with.

gojo pockets his phone, his eyes still sparkling with mischief despite the seriousness of the situation. “come on, let's find someplace less public to hang out,” he suggests, putting his cock back to it's coffin. “maybe we can convince yaga to lighten up once he sees how well behaved we are.”

geto rolls his eyes, his annoyance evident. “he’s being a pain in the ass, that’s what he’s being.” gojo nods in agreement, zipping his pants up and fastening his belt. “but he’s our teacher, so we’d better listen to him for now.”

“he teaches shit, always making us a punch bag with his stupid toys,” you spat. gojo and geto both laugh at your comment, knowing that you’re not exaggerating. yaga can indeed be quite rough when it comes to training. “yeah, he can be a little hard on us,” gojo agrees, running a hand through his hair. “but he’s just trying to make us stronger, you know?”

“whatever,” you wave your hand nonchalantly. gojo lets out a soft chuckle, finding your nonchalance amusing. geto chimes in, “don’t be too upset, princess. we’ll make it up to you later.” gojo took your bag and sled it over his shoulder, along with his bag.

“promises, promises,” you tease, giving geto a playful shove as you follow gojo out of the classroom. the halls are mostly empty, which means you can move quickly without drawing attention to themselves.

as you step outside, the fresh air hits you, cooling your flushed cheeks. “so, where to?” gojo asks, glancing around to get his bearings. he leads the way, choosing a path that will lead you away from prying eyes and towards a quieter part of the academy grounds.

you smile at geto after he pulls you closer by your waist, giving you a gentle squeeze in the process and kiss your shoulder. the raven kisses your cheek before he speaks, “how about we stop at my dorm, hm? continued what we left before,” his voice teasing you making you giggle as you look into his eyes.

a devilish grin spreads across geto's face at his own suggestion, his dark eyes flashing with lustful intent. “mmm, that does have a certain appeal, don't you think baby?“ he murmurs, his voice low and raspy. “but we'd better be quick about it.”

with that, he takes your hand and starts walking faster, eager to reach his dorm room and continue where they left off. gojo follows close behind, his eyes never leaving you as he watches every movement with keen interest.

you laugh as geto starts running, holding your hand, causing both men to join in the giggling. gojo chuckles softly, the sound muffled by the rush of wind against his ears. “seems like someone's eager,” he teases, glancing back at geto with a smirk. the sight of you giggling and bouncing alongside them only serves to fuel their excitement further.

once you reach geto's dorm, he wastes no time unlocking the door and pushing it open. “after you,” he says, gesturing grandly for you to enter first. as soon as you cross the threshold, he closes the door behind you, sealing off the world outside and leaving nothing but the three of you in the dimly lit space.

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deebris · 8 months ago

Text

From annoying to beloved

Homelander x fem!Reader

Synopsis: The new member of the Seven annoys Captain Patria with their habit of doodling in the corners all the time, but he didn't expect to end up liking it.

During the fourth season, it can be read as both romantic and platonic.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of murder, the reader has the power to control plasma, fluffy.

The reader is also kind of anxious.

Word count: 2.9k

"You gotta be fucking kidding with me." Homelander interrupted abruptly upon hearing snores in the room. "Is Noir sleeping?"

"Mmhmm," Firecracker murmured in agreement, but the masked superhero jolted awake when The Deep kicked his chair.

"Oh, shit! Sorry, guys." Black Noir straightened up, while the Captain shook his head in disbelief, unable to fathom what he had just witnessed.

"Ah, what the fuck." The blonde furrowed his brows, eyes darting around the room quickly, then fixing on a specific point when something else caught his attention. He had noticed you earlier with a notebook and pencil, but now you're not writing but drawing. The irritating sound of the graphite scraping against the paper had been bothering him for some time, but he had tried to ignore it, assuming as a newcomer you were taking notes.

He wouldn't lie. Though he found taking notes utterly stupid, he liked to think someone was that focused on what he said. Not that he needed it, just opening his lips and everyone would be watching him. But as if that weren't enough, he finally realized you were dressed in regular civilian clothes.

"Radiance, where's your suit?" He asked slowly, but angrily. "Can't anyone do anything right around here?"

You finally tore your attention from the paper, meeting Homelander gaze directly. It's not that you weren't paying attention—in fact, you were, maybe more than anyone else there. It was easier to absorb things while doodling, a way to calm your nerves. Well, that or rubbing your sweaty fingers together until they hurt.

No one ever understood. Even back in school, your parents used to receive complaints about you drawing during class, no matter how high your grades were or the fact that you were the top student.

This was your first meeting with the Seven, and the last thing you wanted was to give the impression of being careless or not caring about being there. It could be said that one of the best days of your life was yesterday when Vought sent you a notice, letting you know that the greatest superhero of all had personally chosen you to join the team. After so many "retarded" - in his words - he had been forced to accept into the Seven, Homelander saw in you, above all, the opportunity to make up for Firecracker's ridiculous weakness.

When Ashley began talking about your powers, he had no doubt the last spot was yours. It was simply brilliant. Who the hell would have imagined someone would have powers to control a state of matter? You could maneuver fire, generate electrical discharges, disrupt magnetic fields, and damn it, you could split atoms as if slicing butter.

Vought's scientists said they didn't know if it was possible, but you could destroy the damn out of a star one day. Homelander wasn't a science guy, but in one of his moments of boredom, he got curious and did some research. He didn't even know that plasma crap was all that, he thought it was a cell thing or whatever.

He always thought someone with a power as peculiar as yours, and at your age, would be arrogant or just plain dumb. But you were actually the complete opposite. You didn't speak unnecessarily, and while you seemed very aware of your own actions, you had no clue how powerful you were, or perhaps ignored that fact. The blonde thought you were an idiot for it, but he appreciated the inferiority you submitted to, especially in relation to himself.

"I don't have one, sir," you replied to his question, feeling small with everyone looking.

"What the hell?" He continued, focusing on you with incredulous voice, he couldn't believe it. How did someone end up here without even having a superhero suit?

The truth was, you had never been part of any team before, nor had you received any sponsorship during your life, or even attended Godolkin University. The only thing you had were your powers, which were indeed impressive. You never chased after any position, nor were you ever obsessed with being a famous superheroine, but lately you thought it would be a good adventure to radicalize your life. That's when you applied to join the Seven.

"How do you have a name and not have a fucking suit?" He asked, boiling with anger, fists clenching tightly behind his back.

"They gave me a name when I filled out the application," you answered honestly. That day, after they chose to call you Radiance, a random and easily commercial name, you couldn't complain much and didn't want to bother, so you left it at that.

"You'll be introduced as an official member of the Seven tomorrow, how do you not have a suit?" He took his hands off his back, moving them as he spoke to express his confusion, and for a few moments you followed it movement like a child who can't keep their attention on anything for long. "Who's handling your marketing?"

You couldn't answer, so you stayed silent and no one else dared to say a word either. You had no idea who was handling your marketing, not knowing you should even have that. You glanced quickly around the table, perhaps seeking some kind of help for the situation, but everyone looked down when they realized you were staring at them. They were enjoying themselves, and that made you exhale through your nose in embarrassment.

"You know what? Fuck it, doesn't matter." Homelander brought his fingers to his furrowed forehead, letting out a loud sigh as he calmed down. "Just... don't show up like this in public until someone gives you a suit."

"Yes, sir," you replied tensely, relieved that he had resolved the matter.

Sister Sage widened her eyes in relief when she finally saw the superhero sitting beside her. She opened her mouth to begin speaking, as she had intended from the beginning, but when some sound was about to come out of her mouth, Homelander spoke to you again, this time pointing an accusatory finger at you:

"And stop drawing, damn it," he ordered, causing you to slowly drop the pencil on the table, as if caught doing something wrong with the weapon of the crime in hand. You stared at your lap throughout the entire meeting, embarrassed for messing everything up on your first day.

When the meeting ended, you followed most people out of the room, but stopped nearby in one of the hallways. You slid down the wall, crouching in a hidden corner, and lightly tapped the sketchbook against your forehead in annoyance.

"Stupid," you murmured softly to yourself. It was so ridiculous, yet it embarrassed you so much. Maybe this first day wasn't so bad after all. You would have plenty of time to prove your worth to everyone, no need to dwell on this situation. Even though you had been corrected in front of some of the most iconic supers by Homelander himself, this situation could be overcome. It was thinking about it that kept you from letting the burning tears fall.

"I can hear you whining," Homelander voice made you jump to your feet, startled to be caught once again doing something you shouldn't. He didn't seem happy, and his expression was so intimidating that you felt like Mariah Carey performing for a crowd of Eminem fans.

He approached you in slow steps and you held the sketchtebook protectively to your chest, as if that could protect you from something. He glanced down to briefly see the object in your hands and looked at you with disgust.

"If you don't straighten up, I'll kick you out. Got it?" Everything about him exuded threat. Maybe if he weren't so imposing and powerful, that sentence would have sounded a bit like the janitor from your old school scolding you for spending too much time in the bathroom during class.

You were paralyzed standing there and all you could do was a nod. But your gesture made him more aggressive.

"Answer with your mouth. Are you mute or something?" And there he was, hands behind his back again. He seemed to enjoy that pose.

"I won't mess up, sir," you said, swallowing your saliva.

"And get rid of that. Or burn it, do whatever, just get rid of it. And I better not see you with that again," he said referring to your notebook, walking away faster than before. "These kids..." you heard him mutter distantly.

After that happened, you didn't destroy the sketchtebook, but you were afraid of being caught and kept it safely tucked away in the back of a drawer in your room. What the eyes don't see, the heart doesn't feel, right? You mentally made a promise to yourself not to use it anywhere else but here, to avoid causing more trouble.

It's been a week since you've been with the Seven, and several strange things have happened. You quickly realized that Homelander wasn't the pristine and merciful hero everyone believed him to be. But the truth was that deep down you already expected that. Everything about heroes always seemed too perfect and pure, there had to be a catch. Despite everything, you still remained yourself, never intentionally hurting anyone or getting involved in murders and conspiracies.

You were comfortable helping out with some minor crimes that Vought sent you to solve, but by now you suspected that sooner or later Homelander would ask you to do some of his atrocities. It was still hard to think about how to feel about it, but you weren't naive, you were already mentally preparing to submit to it or else be killed.

During that time, as you adjusted and interacted with the team, it didn't go unnoticed by Homelander that you were drawing on your own hand, or on napkins and on random sheets you found lying around, even though you hadn't shown up with your sketchtebook again. This was starting to wear on his last nerve, but he tried to ignore it. As long stayed as you were, without asking too many questions and obedient, he made an effort to continue overlooking your makeshift drawings.

"Meeting's over," the blond suddenly declared, interrupting another of the Seven's weekly gatherings while cutting off The Deep's rambling about his ideas.

"But I haven't even talked about the flying shark yet," he tried to defend himself.

"Shut up," Homelander's voice rang out sternly in the room, issuing a warning that the man promptly obeyed.

"Right. Meeting's over." Ashley nervously moved to gather the portfolios on the new soda advertisement she had come to present, but as soon as she touched the first folder, specifically the A-Train one, the superhero exploded in rage:

"Ashley! Get out!" She immediately dropped the folder in place and hurried out in her heels, unable to run in them. "All of you! Get out of here."

Everyone got up from their chairs, even you, and filed out through the front door, leaving the folders on the table. Sister Sage hesitated, thinking she might be an exception, but when his scowl deepened, she understood she should leave too.

With the room empty, Captain Patria took a few minutes to admire the view from the tower. He enjoyed staring at it sometimes, even when bored.

"Bunch of idiots," he muttered to himself, shaking his head in denial, indignant. If he had to spend one more minute with these morons, he would have a heart attack, even though that was technically impossible for him.

He threw his cape back as he turned to leave, looking down and not focusing on anything in particular. But his eyes caught something different from the other folders. It was obviously yours, with a huge drawing covering the text and images printed on it.

That was the first time he actually saw something you had scribbled. And damn, it was perfect. It was a drawing of everyone in the room, with him in the center looking angry. Just as he was. His ego flared up as he noticed that his figure was more detailed than the others'. You must have started drawing him first, hence had more time to detail him. The idea of you making him the main focus of this particular drawing made his pupils dilate. He used his super hearing to check if anyone else was around and secretly took that sheet for himself.

The next time he saw you drawing in the Seven's room, he couldn't help but wonder if you were drawing him again. As soon as he noticed you sneakily reaching for a pen that belonged to Ashley, he looked in your direction. The noise that used to annoy him now sparked curiosity. And after staring at you for so long, it didn't take long for you to look back at him too. The blond thought you would be embarrassed, like most people, but you just grinned as if you were used to being caught looking. And indeed, you were.

You began drawing Homelander more frequently when you realized he never caught you watching him. It was easier and avoided awkward situations with other people. After two whole weeks of drawing him continuously while taking advantage of this freedom, you felt capable of drawing his face without even needing to see a photo, having memorized most of his distinctive features.

Well, it seems he's finally noticed you.

Sometimes, when alone in your room, you took out your sketchbook and started practicing the memory of his facial features you had developed. Just like every other time, you became absorbed in the drawing, focusing only on the voices around you to understand what was being said. This was also a way to keep yourself engaged during conversations, so you wouldn't get restless from being still while being a mere spectator of everything. After all, you never participated much or gave opinions; Deep already did enough for two.

The meeting had already ended, but you stayed in your chair, even as everyone else left, to finish just a part of the hair. You thought no one would mind, and then you would leave as usual, but a voice caught you by surprise:

"Can I take a look?" Homelander asked, for the first time, using a gentle voice beside you. His expression was enigmatic, somewhat relaxed, and shy at the same time.

You turned the stack of post-it notes, also taken from Ashley, for him to see what you had drawn, fearing what he would say. You weren't ashamed of drawing people, much less of them catching you doing it. You feared because he found your habit annoying.

He observed the drawing, seeing his posture from the side, upright and imposing. He wondered if you drew him exactly as you saw him, or if it was just another caricature of reality, like those Photoshopped pictures spread around. He looked much better than he imagined, though he had that superiority complex that made him see himself as a god.

For a moment, he was offended to see his image stamped on such despicable things as scraps of paper and these damn post-it notes. Your fingerprints were also visible stains, and the paper was slightly wrinkled from his sweat. He had noticed that sometimes you drew calmly, as if you had all the time in the world, and other times it was like drawing on a boat in a storm. Today seemed to be the latter situation.

"Do you like drawing me?" He glanced at you.

"I do," you shrugged. That was the simplest and most truthful answer you could give. "Sorry, I won't do it anymore," you said, thinking he was bothered by it.

"Why?" He ignored your apology.

"You're drawable... I guess," you stared at the table, not understanding the flow of the conversation.

"And what the fuck does that mean?" He asked in a louder voice, turning to face you, obviously confused. "Is this some artistic shit?"

"It's just that you're easy to draw because you have unusual characteristics. It's a good thing," was your answer, and it inflated his chest with narcissistic pride. Unusual, that's what you said, but to him, it was like being called extraordinary.

"Next time you draw me, try using a sketchbook," he said sternly, pretending to reject your work, but deep down, he just didn't want to show that he really liked it. That statement was his way of encouraging you to continue, but at the same time, it was so ironic, considering he got mad at you just when you were drawing him in the sketchtebook that day.

"But you asked me to get rid of mine," you said simply, your voice dwindling with each word of the sentence, not wanting him to find out that you had never thrown it away.

"I'll get you a new one," he said dismissively, taking the entire stack of post-it notes with him, including the drawing, as if you wouldn't notice.

#imagine #x reader #homelander #the boys season 4 #homelander x reader #the boys x reader #oneshot #the boys amazon #homelander x you #the boys s4 #homelander fanfiction #antony starr #antony starr x reader #the boys homelander #the boys the deep #sister sage

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daeniradraconis · 14 days ago

Text

Age Is Just a Number…Right? - Luke Hughes

Summary: Luke. Age gap. Jack being a menace as usual, making sure you're not getting away that easy. Warning: Implied sexual situations, mature language, flirtation, age gap (6 years)

Note: Hey, lovelies! So, originally, this fic was all about Macklin Celebrini and Will Smith, but then I realized—Will is 19, and honestly, he’s just a baby to me. Even if he said he loves older woman. Boy go back to kinder garden. (Sorry Will, love you, I promise!) So, I decided to swap in the Hughes boys instead. I’ve gotta be honest, it gave me a bit of a headache. Now, this started as a quick, short fic. I swear, I had every intention of keeping it short. But, well… 7048 words later, here we are. I got hit with a ton of ideas and feelings, and the story just kind of... grew on me. You’ll probably notice the tone/style shifts halfway through, and I’m definitely sorry for that!

But hey, I hope you all enjoy it despite the wild ride! ❤️ For more fun: masterlist

The first thing you notice is warmth.

A heavy arm draped over your waist. The steady rise and fall of breath against the back of your neck. The scent of clean laundry, cologne, and something distinctly him clinging to the pillow beside you.

The second thing you notice—you are not in your own bed.

Your stomach flips as your brain reboots, sluggishly piecing together fragments of last night.

The blind date.

Luke.

His charming smile. The way his chestnut curls fell into his eyes when he laughed. The way he leaned in when you spoke, like you were the only person in the room. The teasing brush of his fingers against yours when he reached for his drink. The electricity that crackled between you when you finally caved—when he kissed you outside the bar, his hands firm at your waist, his body pressing into yours like he couldn’t help himself.

And then… more.

Your face burns as memory after memory floods in. His hands, his mouth, the way he whispered your name like it meant something.

Nope. Not thinking about that.

Carefully, you shift beneath the covers, untangling yourself from his hold. Luke stirs but doesn’t wake, his arm slipping away as you ease yourself upright.

That’s when it really hits you.

He looks so young.

His chestnut curls are a mess, his lips slightly parted, his entire face softened in sleep. He looks… peaceful. Innocent, almost.

A strange unease settles in your stomach.

Your gaze flickers around the unfamiliar room. It’s nice but lived-in—hockey gear shoved into the corner, a few discarded clothes on a chair. Your eyes land on the nightstand, where his wallet sits slightly open.

You don’t mean to snoop. You really don’t.

But something about last night nags at you.

Just a quick peek. Just to make sure.

Fingers trembling, you reach for it, flip it open.

And your heart stops.

Luke Hughes. Age: 21.

Twenty fucking one.

As in, young enough to still pull all-nighters for fun. As in, could still be in college.

And you? You are twenty-seven.

Oh. My. God.

Your hands fly to your phone as you furiously type out a message to your friend.

"WHAT THE HELL?! YOU SET ME UP WITH A 21-YEAR-OLD. I AM A GROWN WOMAN. I PAY FOR MY OWN HEALTH INSURANCE."

No response.

Coward.

Panic thrums in your veins as you stare at Luke—still peacefully asleep, completely unaware that you are having a full-blown identity crisis in his bed.

You need to leave. Now.

Right?

But for some reason, you hesitate.

Because Luke… Luke is the first guy in a long time who actually made you interested. Who made you laugh so hard you snorted into your drink. Who listened—really listened—when you talked, instead of just waiting for his turn to speak. And, well. The man or more like a boy, had managed to get you to orgasm. Twice!

Which, considering your track record, felt almost miraculous.

Your past partners had barely managed to get you there once—if at all.

And now you’re just supposed to sneak out of here like it never happened? Like he was just another bad decision?

Your stomach twists.

But then you glance at the wallet again. Twenty-one.

Yeah. You need to go.

Sliding out of bed as silently as possible, you scan the room for your clothes. Your shirt is on the floor, your jeans halfway under the bed. You grab them quickly, yanking them on with the precision of someone defusing a bomb. Bra? Found. Socks? One is missing, but you’ll live.

Once fully dressed, you tiptoe to the door. Your shoes. They’re outside the room. You remember kicking them off in the hallway.

One deep breath.

You ease the door open, peeking into the dimly lit living room.

Empty.

Good.

You take two careful steps out, eyes locked on your shoes near the front door. Almost there. Just a few more—

“Busted.”

You scream.

Not a blood-curdling horror movie scream, but a very real, very startled yelp that absolutely does not help you maintain any dignity in this situation.

Your body jolts like you’ve just been electrocuted, arms flailing wildly as you spin toward the voice.

There, sprawled across the couch, is a guy watching you like this is the best morning of his life.

Tall. Ridiculously handsome. Light brown hair, messy in a way that suggests he just woke up. Sharp cheekbones. Blue eyes filled with pure mischief.

And a smirk so unbearably smug that you immediately want to punch it off his face.

You clutch your chest, heart racing. “Jesus Christ, who the hell are you?!”

The guy grins wider. “Damn. Didn’t even recognize me? That hurts.”

“Am I supposed to?”You blink, still catching your breath.

His smirk falters for half a second before returning full force. “Oh, that’s good. That’s really good.” He tilts his head, studying you like you’re some kind of rare specimen. “You actually have no idea who I am, do you?”

“Why the hell would I?” Your frown deepens.

He lets out a dramatic sigh, like this is somehow the greatest tragedy to ever befall him.

“You’re telling me,” he starts, sitting up slightly, resting his arms on his knees, fully entertained, “that you came home with my brother, slept with him, and have no idea who we are?”

Your stomach drops.

Brother?

You knew Luke had brothers—he mentioned it—but you had no idea they were famous.

Your eyes flick toward the bedroom, then back to him. “You’re—wait, you’re one of Luke’s brothers?”

He snorts. “Wow. No recognition at all. That is humbling.”

“Should I recognize you?” You narrow your eyes at him.

“Oh, I don’t know.” He shrugs, mock-offended, but there’s a glint of amusement in his eyes. “I guess I’m only one of the most famous people in this city.”

You blink, a little thrown off. “…You’re a local weatherman?”

He chokes, eyes widening. “A what?!”

“You’re acting like I should know you,” you say, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t keep up with the news, but you definitely have the vibe of a guy who points at maps for a living.”

He definitely doesn’t. If anything, he looks more like a kooky stripper with an annoyingly fit body. But there’s no way you’re feeding his ego—this idiot would probably take it as a compliment.

For a split second, he just stares at you, his mouth hanging slightly open.

Then, as if the tension snaps, he howls—full-body laughter, throwing his head back and wiping a fake tear from his eye.

“Oh my God,” he wheezes, clutching his stomach. “This is the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

You cross your arms, trying to mask the irritation bubbling up. “Glad I could contribute to your morning entertainment.”

“No, you don’t get it,” he says between gasps for air, leaning forward with an infectious grin. “This is amazing. Incredible. I live for moments like this.”

You raise an eyebrow, your patience wearing thin. “Moments like what?” you snap, unable to hide the rising edge in your voice. Honestly, you’re just relieved Luke didn’t inherit Jack’s over-the-top, obnoxious personality. If he had, you probably would’ve bailed on this blind date five minutes in.

“Moments where I get to witness something so spectacularly awkward, so painfully embarrassing, that it will sustain me for weeks.”

You glare at him with pure annoyance. “I hate you already.”

He clutches his chest dramatically. “Ouch. That wounds me.”

“You’ll survive.”

“Oh, no doubt.” He smirks, and for a moment, it almost reminds you of Luke—though the two brothers couldn’t look more different. But that same confidante smile? It’s unmistakable. “Especially since I now have the upper hand in every conversation we ever have from here on out.”

“We’re never having another conversation after this!” You try to sound firm, but your voice cracks, betraying you.

He just grins wider, shaking his head like he’s heard that before. “That’s what you think.”

You exhale sharply, fed up with the entire exchange. “Look, I’m leaving. Forget you ever saw me.”

“Not a chance.” He leans back against the couch, thoroughly amused. “You’re trying to sneak out of my baby brother’s room like a damn criminal. This is gold.”

You scowl again. “I’m not sneaking out.” You fumble with your shoes, trying to get them on while defending yourself. Luckily, the hallway and living room are one open space, making your escape a bit less awkward.

“You literally just tiptoed past me like you’re starring in Mission Impossible.”

You groan. "I was trying not to wake him up." Rolling your eyes, you keep wrestling with your damn laces—of all times to betray you, it had to be now. Frustration bubbles up as you huff, "I need to go."

Jack cocks an eyebrow. "Why?"

You freeze mid-motion, exhaling hard through your nose. "...Just because."

"That's not an answer." His arms fold across his chest, his gaze pressing into you like he’s daring you to crack.

Your stomach twists. Heat rises to your face. You don’t want to say it, don’t want to give him the satisfaction—but the words rip out anyway.

“Because I just found out I slept with a 21-year-old, okay?! I’m 27. That’s a six-year difference! That’s a whole presidential term and a little extra! That’s a—”

You stop, realizing how ridiculous it sounds now that you're saying it.

Jack stares at you, blinking. There’s a long silence before you speak again, but his expression shows no understanding of the mental chaos you’re in.

You sigh and tug at your hair in frustration. “I wasn’t expecting this. I thought maybe he was older, and now… I just don’t know how to feel.”

Jack, for the first time, softens his teasing expression. But it’s clear he doesn’t quite get what you’re saying.

“Well,” he shrugs casually, “you’re still not leaving. You’re stuck here until Luke wakes up.”

“No, I’m not.” You shake your head, stubborn.

“Yes, you are!”

Before you can argue, you hear movement from the bedroom.

“Jack, why are you yelling?”

Shit.

You freeze.

Jack just grins wider.

You turn, and there he is—Luke, standing in the hallway, shirtless, hair an absolute mess, looking at you with adorable confusion.

Jack smirks. “Oh, you know. Just chatting with your date about how she was totally about to dip.”

“Wait. You’re leaving?” Luke’s voice is a mix of confusion and hurt, and suddenly, you feel a wave of guilt wash over you.

You shift awkwardly, caught in the middle of it all. “I just… didn’t want to wake you.”

Jack snickers. “Translation: she found out you’re barely legal and panicked.”

Luke’s eyes flick to his nightstand, where his wallet still sits open.

“…Wait. Is this about my age?" He sounds confused—adorably so. Too adorably.

You open your mouth, but Jack is already cackling.

“Oh, it absolutely is,” Jack says, shaking his head. “She took one look at that ID and nearly had a full-blown existential crisis.”

Your face flushes deep red. Jesus, you really can’t stand that blue-eyed bastard.

Luke blinks, then sighs, clearly frustrated a little bit. “So, last night was… amazing, but now it’s a problem because I’m 21?”

You shift uneasily. “It’s not a problem, exactly. It’s just…”

Jack grins mischievously. “Hilarious?”

You glare at him, a mix of embarrassment and irritation burning through you. “Not the word I was going for.”

Luke tilts his head, watching you closely. “Did it feel weird last night?”

Your face instantly flames. “LUKE.”

Jack cackles. “Ohhh my God, this is so good.”

Luke shrugs nonchalantly. “I’m just saying. You didn’t seem to mind my age when you were begging for—”

You lunge at him, quickly slapping a hand over his mouth. “Don’t. You. Dare.”

Jack, leaning in with barely contained joy, grins wider. “Oh, no, let’s hear it! This is the best! I live for this shit.”

You whip around, shooting daggers. “Do you really have to be here?”

Jack places a hand over his chest, feigning innocence. "Of course I do. I’m just the clueless bystander, watching your meltdown. It’s my duty as a brother. How else am I supposed to tease Lukey later?"

Luke licks his lips, glancing between you and Jack. “Wait… so you’re really freaking out over this?”

You sigh, your frustration starting to boil over. "I just… didn’t realize you were so young."

Jack snickers from the side, clearly enjoying himself. “Oh, no, I think she’s just overthinking it. But hey, it’s cute.”

Luke shoots him a glare. “Jack.”

Jack raises his hands, completely unbothered. “I’m just here to state the obvious.”

You groan, feeling a headache start to form at the base of your skull. "Can I just… go? Please?" The words come out sharper than you mean, but you’re too tired to care.

Luke looks at you, his gaze softening with that same sleepy affection from last night. You almost hate how it makes your chest ache. "You really want to leave?"

You pause for a long moment, considering.

And truthfully?

No.

You don’t.

Last night wasn’t just a fling—it was Luke.

Luke, who had you laughing through dinner, making you feel like you were the only person in the world. He treated you like you were someone worth admiring, someone worth cherishing. And when he kissed you, it felt like the first rainstorm after a drought, washing away everything but the two of you.

And now he’s standing there, messy-haired and sleepy-eyed, looking at you like he’s trying to figure out what’s going through your mind.

Jack, sensing the shift, leans back dramatically. “Ohhh, she’s thinking about it.”

You glare. “Shut up, Jack.”

Jack smirks like a little kid in the candy shop. “Nope.”

Luke lets out a heavy sigh, rubbing his face with both hands, his puppy like eyes softening as he looks at you. "Alright," he mutters, a playful smile tugging at his lips. "Let me make you breakfast before you decide I’m too young to function."

Jack perks up from the couch. “Oh, hell yeah. Stay. Luke makes a mean omelet.”

Luke shoots Jack a teasing glare, his eyes rolling in exasperation as he half-smirks. "Why are you even involved in this?" he says, clearly annoyed but with a playful edge, like he can’t decide if he should laugh or strangle his brother.

Jack shrugs dramatically. “Because I live for chaos.”

You hesitate for a moment, staring at Luke as you battle the urge to stay or run.

“…Fine. One omelet.”

Jack fist-pumps the air. “YES.”

Luke grins like he’s already won. “Good. Because I was going to make you stay anyway.”

—

You don’t know how you ended up here.

One second, you were committed to sneaking out like a thief in the night. The next?

You’re standing in Luke Hughes’ kitchen, watching him move around with annoying ease, pulling eggs and cheese out of the fridge like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Jack, of course, is sitting at the kitchen island, grinning like the mischievous idiot he is.

“You look tense,” he observes, propping his chin in his hand and resting his elbows on his knees. “Regretting staying already?”

You shoot him a withering look. “I regret a lot of things. Letting you talk this morning is at the top of the list.”

Jack gasps dramatically, clutching his chest. “Ouch. And here I was, being such a warm and welcoming host.”

You roll your eyes. “You ambushed me.”

Jack shrugs casually, sipping his coffee. “Semantics.”

Luke, bless him, doesn’t engage. He simply smirks to himself as he cracks an egg into a pan, clearly used to Jack’s shenanigans. “Jack, are you actually gonna eat, or are you just here to be annoying?”

“Oh, I ate already. I’m just here for the show.”

You narrow your eyes at him, a smirk playing at the corner of your mouth. “Seriously, what’s your deal? You get some kind of thrill out of torturing me?”

He’s an asshole, but damn, he’s the kind of asshole that almost makes you laugh.

Jack flashes a devilish grin, clearly enjoying the chaos he's creating. "You're sharp. I like that. Smart women are way more fun to mess with." He leans back, arms crossed, his eyes twinkling with mischief as if he's already plotting his next move.

Luke huffs a laugh, the sound full of fond exasperation. He rolls his eyes, his messy hair falling into his face as he nudges Jack with his shoulder. “Just ignore him. He thrives on being a menace,” he says, shaking his head, but you can tell he's not actually mad.

Jack grins even wider, clearly proud of himself. “Yep. It’s what I do best,” he says, puffing out his chest like he’s just announced some kind of grand achievement.

You rest your elbows on the table, watching as Luke flips an omelet with impressive skill. “Okay, I’ll bite—how did you get so good at this?”

“Gotta learn some life skills when you live with Jack. Otherwise, you starve." He shoots his brother a pointed look, one that’s half annoyance, half fondness.

Jack scoffs, dramatically pressing a hand to his chest like he’s been wronged. "That’s unfair. I provide entertainment." His voice is teasing, but there’s a clear twinkle in his eye.

Luke snorts, barely stifling a laugh. "Entertainment doesn’t make up for the fact that you once tried to microwave a frozen pizza."

Your head snaps up at that, eyebrows shooting up in disbelief. "I’m sorry, what?"

Jack groans, cheeks flushing with a rare hint of embarrassment. "It was one time, and the oven took too long!" he mutters defensively, but you can see the red creeping up his neck.

Luke smirks, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he gestures vaguely toward the stove. "You almost burned the apartment down," he points out, no trace of sympathy in his voice.

Jack waves a dismissive hand. "That’s an exaggeration," he says, clearly attempting to downplay the incident, but his voice betrays the tiniest hint of guilt.

Luke shoots you a sly look, his eyes dancing with amusement as he leans in, like he’s about to let you in on a secret. “The microwave was smoking,” he adds, his voice dropping low, the tone almost playful—like he’s about to drop some juicy gossip.

Your jaw drops in disbelief. "Oh my God."

Luke, clearly pleased with the chaos he’s caused, gestures at Jack with the spatula like he’s just won some kind of victory. "See? This is why I learned how to cook."

Jack grins wide, unbothered. "And I get to reap the benefits, so really, we both win," he says with a cheeky shrug, as if his utter lack of skill somehow balances out Luke’s culinary expertise.

You laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. "I don’t know how you put up with him."

Luke smirks,"It’s a daily struggle," he says, voice deadpan, but the small curve of his lips gives away the amusement he’s trying to hide.

Jack grins, shaking his head slightly. “Oh, the betrayal. I’m crushed,” he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm, though the smirk gives him away.

Luke just rolls his eyes and slides the finished omelet onto a plate before setting it down in front of you.

You look down at it, genuinely impressed by how perfect it looks. Then, you glance back at Luke, a little taken aback. "Not gonna lie… this looks really good."

Luke’s grin widens, his eyes briefly locking with yours, the kind of connection that makes the moment feel charged. "Told you."

You pick up your fork, still a little skeptical, and take a bite. Holy hell.

Your eyes go wide in surprise. "Oh my God. This is actually amazing."

Jack leans in, looking smug...again. "See? I wasn’t lying." He gives you a little wink, clearly basking in the moment like he’s somehow been proven right.

Luke smirks, pleased by the compliment. “I take my breakfast very seriously.”

“Clearly. This might be the best decision I’ve made today.” You shake your head, chewing.

Jack gasps dramatically. “Wow. So staying was a better decision than leaving?”

You pause, realizing what you just admitted.

Jack grins like he’s just scored a win, and for a second, you seriously consider wiping that smug look off his face.

Luke’s smile, however, is filled with pure happiness, as if this moment is exactly what he’s been waiting for.

You sigh, stabbing your omelet. “I’m never gonna live this down, am I?”

Jack beams. “Absolutely not.”

Luke leans closer, his voice suddenly lower, more intimate. “I mean, I’m glad you stayed. It’s not every day I get a pretty girl in my kitchen, making my morning way more interesting.”

You freeze, fork halfway to your mouth. His words hang in the air, electric.

“Oh, so now I’m ‘pretty,’ huh?” you tease, trying to maintain your composure, though your heart skips a beat.

Luke raises an eyebrow, a slow, confident smile curling on his lips. “Oh, I thought that was obvious.” His gaze flickers down to your lips, his voice dropping even lower. “You’ve been keeping me on my toes since I woke up.”

Your cheeks warm, but you force yourself to look away, focusing on your omelet. “Flattery won’t make me forget about you being 21.”

Luke’s grin widens, and he leans in a little closer, lowering his voice just enough that only you can hear. “Maybe not. But I think it’s a pretty good start.”

Jack, completely oblivious to the flirtation unfolding right under his nose, leans back on the kitchen island with a self-satisfied grin. “God, I can’t believe I’m witnessing this. I thought I was supposed to be the one who charmed the ladies.”

Luke snorts, rolling his eyes at his brother but keeping his focus on you. “Jack’s the type to talk about it. I’m the type to show it.”

Your breath catches in your throat. That was smooth. Really smooth.

You take another bite of your omelet, trying to hide the smile spreading across your face. “You sure you don’t just want me to stay for the food?”

Luke leans back, his gaze softening as he gently takes your left hand in his, his thumb slowly tracing circles over your knuckles. “I mean… if that’s your only reason for sticking around, I won’t complain,” he murmurs, a playful yet tender smile curving his lips. “But I like to think I’ve got more to offer than just my cooking skills.”

His words, along with the warmth in his eyes, wash over you like a wave, pulling you in deeper. You lock eyes with him, your breath catching as your pulse quickens. There’s something in the way he’s looking at you, something that makes it impossible to think straight.

Then Jack clears his throat loudly, and you break the spell, feeling a little embarrassed.

“Alright, alright,” Jack says, clearly enjoying the discomfort he’s just caused. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone so you can finish your breakfast in peace. No need to make me a third wheel.”

You roll your eyes, but Luke doesn’t seem to mind. He just shrugs, unfazed.

“Good idea. Go entertain yourself, Jack.”

Jack winks. “Don’t mind if I do.” He stands up and heads for the door, adding, “You two just make sure to keep it PG—some of us don’t need to see that much chemistry before our coffee kicks in.”

You watch as Jack exits, still grinning like the mischievous brat he is.

As the door clicks behind Jack, the quiet of the kitchen settles in, leaving just you and Luke alone, the lingering tension between you two impossible to ignore. Luke shifts, his hands still resting on your hands as he pulls you gently into his lap. Your heart beats a little faster at the sudden closeness, but you refuse to let the thrill of it distract you from the conversation you know needs to happen.

You take a deep breath, looking up into his eyes—eyes that are soft but hold that familiar spark of mischief, the kind that makes it hard to think straight. He tilts his head slightly, a playful smirk tugging at his lips as he runs his thumb over your hand, tracing slow circles. The warmth of his touch makes your breath hitch, but you bite your lip, determined to have this talk.

“Luke,” you start, your voice softer than you intended, “We need to talk about last night. About... us.”

Luke's expression changes, the playful gleam fading into something more intense. He doesn’t pull away, though. Instead, he tightens his grip on your waist, pulling you just a little closer, and his voice drops an octave. “I thought we were past talking. I thought we were just... enjoying each other.”

His words make your pulse quicken, but you hold firm. You need to address this.

“I’m serious,” you say, your voice steady, though your chest betrays you with its nervous flutter. “I need to know where this is going, Luke. You’re 21, I’m 27. That’s a six-year difference. I’ve been through more in my life. I want a family soon. I want stability. Not... something fleeting.”

Luke’s gaze darkens, and his thumb continues its slow, soothing motion over your skin, but there’s a new intensity in his eyes. He’s quiet for a moment, absorbing your words. The air feels thick with unspoken thoughts, the weight of what you’ve just said hanging between you.

“You think I don’t want the same things?” he asks, his voice steady but with a sharp edge, not defensive—more... thoughtful. “I’m not some kid just looking for a fling. I’ve thought this through. I’m looking for something real. I’ve spent too much time in meaningless situations to want that anymore. I went to our date because I was looking for something serious. And my friend told me you’d be looking for the same thing.”

He lets your words settle, his eyes never leaving yours. “After spending the night talking with you, I felt like I wasn’t just talking to someone who’s interesting—I felt like I was talking to someone who gets it. Someone who’s looking for the same kind of connection. I’m not here for something that’ll fizzle out in a few weeks. I’m here because... I think you might be the person I’ve been waiting for.”

His words hit you in a way you weren’t prepared for. You’re caught off guard, unsure how to respond, but something stirs inside you. Something warm, something you didn’t expect. You can feel the truth of what he’s saying in your chest, and for the first time, you start to question the assumptions you’d made.

“Yeah, but you’re still figuring things out,” you say, your voice shaky now, a trace of worry creeping in. “You’re just starting out in life. Maybe you don’t want the same kind of commitment I do. I need someone who’s already ready to settle down.”

Luke doesn’t hesitate. His fingers slide up to your jaw, his touch firm but tender, like he’s grounding you to the moment. His gaze holds yours, no longer playful, but filled with something deeper. Something real.

“I’m ready for that,” he murmurs, his voice soft but full of conviction. “I know what I want. And I want you. If you’re worried about my age, let me show you I’m more than just a number.”

His words are almost a whisper, but there’s a quiet confidence in them that sends a thrill through you. His lips are so close now, you can feel his breath on your skin as he leans in, his forehead resting against yours. “I’m not asking for a lifetime yet, but I’m asking for the chance to prove myself. To prove that I’m capable of giving you the kind of future you want.”

You close your eyes, your breath catching in your throat. He’s not backing down, and the sincerity in his words leaves you no room to doubt him. But still, you can’t help but voice the doubts that swirl in your mind.

“I don’t want to get hurt, Luke,” you whisper, finally letting yourself admit the fear you’ve been pushing down. “I’ve been through enough heartache. And if you don’t want the same things I do, if you’re not ready for it... I don’t know if I can take that risk.”

Luke leans in just a little more, his lips brushing against your cheek before he pulls back slightly, his hands cradling your face. He’s close enough that you can feel the warmth of his skin, the steadiness of his gaze. “I’m ready for you. Ready for everything that comes with it,” he says, his voice resolute. “I wouldn’t be here, sitting with you like this, if I wasn’t.”

You search his eyes for any sign of hesitation, but there’s none. What you see instead is determination—an unspoken promise that, for all his age, he knows what he wants and is willing to fight for it.

The air between you two shifts, the quiet between you no longer heavy with doubt, but filled with something new. Something that makes your pulse race.

“Okay,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “Then show me.”

At that, his lips crash against yours, the kiss deep and slow, filled with all the unspoken things you’ve both been dancing around. His hands slide to your back, pulling you closer as the kiss deepens. Your hands find their way to his curls, tugging him in as if you can’t get close enough. The world around you fades away—there’s only the feeling of his mouth against yours, the pressure of his body against yours, the shared certainty that whatever this is, it’s more than just physical.

When you finally pull away, both breathless, Luke grins, his forehead resting against yours.

Luke leans back a little bit, his eyes gleaming with that mischievous glint as he watches you, a teasing smile playing at the corners of his lips. "You know," he says casually, his voice thick with satisfaction, "I have to admit... I’ve never had a night quite like that. You really know how to use that beautiful mouth of yours."

You glance over at him, raising an eyebrow. "Oh? What do you mean?"

Luke shifts a little closer, his grin widening. "Well, I’ve had my fair share of nights, but... last night? You...You were next level. Honestly, I wasn’t expecting to be that blown away."

You feel your cheeks flush, a mix of embarrassment and flattery. "Really? Well, I kinda feel the same. I’ve never... finished two times in one night."

Luke’s eyes narrow in surprise. "What?! Baby, that wasn’t even that much. I think we can go for four or five next time." He winks, his tone playful, but there's a hint of challenge in his voice.

You laugh, trying to hide the blush creeping up your neck. "Is that so? You really think you can keep up?"

Luke smirks, leaning in just a little closer, his voice low and confident. "Oh, I’m definitely up for the challenge. You just wait."

You raise an eyebrow, a teasing smile forming on your lips. "Maybe this whole 'young boyfriend' thing isn’t such a bad idea after all... Good stamina and all that."

Luke grins, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Told ya!" He leans in, planting a series of quick, soft kisses across your face and neck, each one sending a delightful shiver through your skin. You can't help but laugh at his actions, brushing your nose against his cheek as your giggles mix with his gentle kisses.

Just as you're starting to recover from his playful assault, a voice slices through the moment like an ice-cold splash of water.

"Can you drop the sex talk, guys?" Jack's voice rings out from the kitchen doorway, dripping with disgust but clearly amused by the whole situation. "I didn’t need to know this much about my little brother."

You freeze, eyes wide, before you turn to Luke, who looks utterly unfazed, that smug, victorious grin plastered across his face. It’s as if he’s just won some kind of prize, and he's wearing it like a badge of honor.

Embarrassment creeps up your neck, but before you can even process the awkwardness, you find yourself laughing. The tension dissolves in the shared amusement of the moment. Luke just shrugs casually, looking way too pleased with himself.

"Relax, Jack. It’s called maturity," you reply with a wink, and Luke chuckles, pressing another kiss to your cheek.

Jack groans dramatically, rolling his eyes. "You two are gross. And seriously, for the future, we need some rules. These walls are way too thin. I do not need to hear you two in action. Thank God I wasn’t home yesterday."

You let out a horrified gasp, hiding your face in Luke’s neck. "Jesus, Jack," you mumble, half laughing, half mortified.

Luke just keeps laughing, clearly entertained by the situation. "You heard nothing. Just a couple of adults figuring things out," he teases.

Jack mutters something under his breath before calling out with a playful, exaggerated gag. "God, I need to vomit. You two are so disgusting."

"Guess this means you're sticking around, huh?" Luke whispers against your mouth, his voice low and warm, sending another wave of heat through you.

You nod, content, leaning into him with a soft smile. "Guess so," you murmur, brushing your lips against his in return.

Jack, clearly fed up with the display, huffs dramatically and walks away with an exaggerated sigh. "You two are the worst."

As he exits, you look up at Luke, feeling that warmth in your chest—the comfort, the excitement, all mixed together. You can get used to mornings like this, even if it means dealing with Jack’s teasing. Or, you think with a smirk, maybe you’ll just strangle him in his sleep. Problem solved.

Luke catches the glint in your eye and chuckles, clearly knowing exactly what you’re thinking.

“Careful,” he says with a playful smirk, “I’d hate to lose my new favourite person just because you can’t handle my brother.”

You laugh, pulling him in for one last kiss.

Part 2

#luke hughes x oc #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes x you #luke hughes fic #luke hughes fanfic #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes #nhl fanfic #nhl fic #jack hughes fanfic #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #jack hughes

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scarletttries · 1 month ago

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Write A Kiss Request: Kang Dae-Ho/Player 388 (Squid Game) x Reader...a kiss in a rush of adrenaline

(prompt list here) & 2025 Request List - requests open

..a kiss for Dae-Ho in a rush of adrenaline

You hadn't really thought about finding an ally in this awful place. Honestly you thought the desperation that filled the sad dorm every night would make everyone here focus on only looking out for themselves. But amongst the darkest times there is always a glimmer of hope in the kindness of others, and the Squid Games were no exception. After only the first game you found yourselves falling in with the previous winner Gi-Hun and the team of friends he seemed to so effortlessly gather around him. One of your teammates in particular seemed to have the innate ability to keep the lights of hope on in your heart when they could have so easily been extinguished - Dae-Ho.

The awkward former marine had been the first to offer you a seat with them, dusting off one of the metal steps you perched on as if he was pulling out a chair at a nice restaurant. It was easy to feel safe around him; his strong arms always settling him in the seat beside you, his kind eyes seeking reassurance you were okay as the games progressed, and his sweet smile telling you this situation would be over soon enough, even though you had no reason to believe him. The two of you were clearly drawn to each other as you entered the game of Mingle, Dae-Ho swearing on his life to keep you close no matter what. But with each passing round the crowd got more aggressive and desperate, the sea of frantic bodies pulling you apart in its current, even as you fought to stay together. After each round you managed to find each other again, only to be grabbed by different groups in the next round and left desperately hoping and praying you both would emerge safely when the doors unlocked again.

"Hold onto my hand." He said firmly as you reunited for the final round, a renewed intensity in his eyes knowing that he only needed to keep you safe for one more torturous minute of this terrible game. "In-ho thinks it will be two per room next, so I promise, me and you are going to be safe." He tried to sound confident, but even in the dim lights you could see his eyes were glistening on the edge of tears as he clung to your hand and braced himself for the wheel stop.

"Groups of Two!" The automated game voice called out for above, and suddenly you felt your whole body getting heaved upwards, the ground below you moving faster than you thought possible from this strange new angle. As you saw the spinning platform disappear from your view, your hands clung desperately to the shape moving at full pelt below you, everything happening in such a blur you couldn't make sense of it.

You heard a door slam and lock, and finally the same strong arms that had made you feel welcome in this strange, scary place gently lowered you back to your feet from where you had been resting over Dae-Ho's shoulder.

"I wasn't taking any chances that time." He laughed out with a nervous smile when he saw your awestruck expression. Rather than risk losing you in the crowd again, he'd just held you tightly and ran as fast as he could to the first free room, never looking behind him because he knew he had everything needed with him.

You stared up at his bashful grin, his head shaking apologetically for the rough way he had handled you, feeling the sheer weight of the situation finally sink in. You were safely through another game. Because of him.

"We're safe! You kept us safe!" You cried out excitedly, your heart hammering in your chest at the realisation, your skin tingling with electricity where his hand still rested lightly on your back until he was sure you wouldn't fall.

"I told you I'd keep you safe." He said simply, offering you a small smile that felt so sincere you couldn't stop yourself from crashing your lips against it. Your hands reached over his shoulders to thread through his long black hair, desperately pulling him closer as if in this moment you two were the only people here. Like you would always be safe if you could stay this close.

Not losing a moment Dae-Ho arms wrapped tightly around your waist, lifting your feet off the ground as he dragged you closer, diving into your kiss like it offered him salvation from your solemn surroundings. His teeth nipped against your bottom lip clumsily, all hungry desperation and making the most of every second, shutting out any noise from outside your little room; your little sanctuary, a place where everything would be okay.

As the lock on your door clicked open you both reluctantly parted, unsure if anything so sweet could exist in the rest of this foresaken place. Dae-Ho spoke first, goofy smile plastered across his face where once a worried grimace had been.

"We should go vote to leave, and then maybe I could buy you dinner with my winnings?"

#writing #fanfiction #requests #one shot #kang daeho #dae ho #dae ho x reader #dae ho squid game #player 388 #player 388 x reader #player 388 imagines #dae-ho #dae-ho x reader #squid game #squid game 2

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moonlightrafe · 1 month ago

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So It Goes…

summary: A stressful premiere and alcohol lead to you hooking up with Drew for the first time.

pairing: Drew Starkey x Actress!Reader

word count: 1.4k

warnings: Explicit smut, alcohol consumption, mention of social anxiety, brief Odessa mention:/, p in v sex, creampie 18+ MDNI

You imagine this is how animals feel at the zoo, put on display to be gawked at all day. Anxiety grips at your chest as the eyes of strangers feel like laser beams, dissecting every flaw, as if they’re waiting for you to mess up. As if they want you to.

You were the only one of Drew’s costars to attend the premiere for his new movie ‘Queer’ and the thought of the online rumors was enough to make your blood pressure go through the roof.

Drew is staying at a hotel nearby for the night, out of convenience— and you are over the moon when he invites you back for a drink. To sit and have a drink. Debrief. That’s all, nothing else.

The ride up in the elevator feels endless, your heart pounding in the small, confined space. Neither of you speaks, but the silence crackles with something unspoken, the faint scent of his cologne wrapping around you like a tether.

When the door to his room clicks shut behind you, your pulse spikes. He gestures to the small table near the window, where two glasses and a bottle of something amber sit waiting. You take a seat, trying to act casual, but your hands tremble as you reach for the glass he pours for you.

The conversation starts light—work, the evening’s events—but there’s an edge to it now, a pull that grows stronger with every glance he sends your way. His knee brushes against yours under the table, and you swear he doesn’t move it. The air feels heavier, charged, like a storm about to break.

Drew leans back in his chair, his eyes holding yours for a beat too long.

“I really appreciate you coming out tonight. You look beautiful,” he says softly, his voice carrying an honesty that sends a shiver through you.

Your laugh is nervous, an attempt to break the tension, “you’re just saying that.”

“I’m not,” he replies, leaning forward now, his forearms resting on the table, his face impossibly close, “I mean it.”

“And what about Odessa?” You question, raising an eyebrow at him as your lips threaten to curve into a smirk.

“There’s nothing going on there. Come on, don’t act like the girls online.”

You giggle, slightly embarrassed as your breath catches, your gaze dropping to his lips before you can stop yourself. His eyes darken, catching the flicker of movement, and the space between you feels like it’s shrinking by the second.

“This is… dangerous,” you murmur, but you don’t move away.

“Yeah,” he agrees, his voice low, almost a whisper.

“It is.”

Could it be possible he has feelings for you, too?

And then his hand brushes yours, tentative at first, testing. The electricity is undeniable. His fingers close over yours, and for a moment, the world outside his hotel room ceases to exist.

Drew grabs your hand and guides you over to the large bed. One hand is wraps around the back of your neck while the other slaps down against the swell of your ass, causing you to yelp.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me in this dress?” He rasps, his voice a low growl. He massages the stinging skin through the thin fabric of your dress before pushing you back, quickly holding up your leg to unfasten the buckle on your shoe.

"Just tell me what you want, baby, and I'll do it."

"I just want you," you whisper, your voice trembling with vulnerability, as he places a quick kiss to your ankle.

His lips linger there for a beat, warm and soft against your skin, sending a shockwave up your spine. He looks up at you then, his eyes molten with intent, and the air between you feels like it might ignite.

Slowly, deliberately, his fingers trail up your calf, his touch light enough to leave goosebumps in its wake.

"You really have no idea what you're doing to me," Drew murmurs, his voice low and rough, like he's barely holding himself back.

Your breath hitches, your heart hammering as he leans closer, his hands steadying while your shoe finally drops to the floor with a soft thud. The world narrows to just the two of you, every rational thought dissolving in the heat of the moment.

His hand slides to your thigh, anchoring you as his lips skim upward, following a path that makes your pulse race. The tension coils tighter.

"Say it again," he breathes against your skin, his lips hovering just above your knee now, teasing, tempting.

"I want you," you repeat, your voice steadier this time, each word carrying the weight of your desire, “wanted you for so long…”

Drew takes no time to hike your dress up over your waist, practically ripping your underwear off of you. He smells good, like expensive cologne and nicotine. His lips find their way to your neck, sending shivers of pleasure down your spine as his ring-clad fingers ghost down your body, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

You arch into him, wanting more as he helps you remove your dress entirely, discarding onto the floor.

Drew continues to move at an agonizingly slow pace, taking his time with you as his lips make their way from your throat down to your chest.

Your breath hitches once his tongue finally comes in contact with your nipple, taking your flesh into his mouth, gently suckling, careful not to apply too much pressure.

Your mind is going hazy as arousal leaks from your core, grinding down harder on him.

Drew continues to suck at your breast, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud as he grinds against you with ease. His eyes are closed, his mind completely lost to the sensation of you in his mouth. Your body trembles against him and he feels it, your small whimpers and moans sending waves urging him on.

He pulls away slowly, and you wince at the loss of contact. His lips leave a trail of wet kisses across your skin as he looks up at you with glassy eyes.

You lean back, positioning yourself so that you have access to the button of his slacks.

“Can I?” you ask.

He nods his head eagerly, unbuttoning them for you and yanking the zipper down with quickness.

You wrap your hand around his length, tugging gently as your free hand flies to the back of his head, pulling at the hair at the nape of his neck.

You lean down to cup and squeeze his balls as he sucks at your right breast.

Drew pulls back again and grips at your hips before he flips you onto your stomach.

His large frame towers over you as he spreads your legs open, pumping his cock a few times before he enters you mercilessly. Every inch of his thick, veiny length making you whimper pathetically as he fills you.

Drew lets out a low hiss at how tight you feel around him. He watches as your eyes roll back, your jaw slackening as he buries himself inside you. He hooks your legs around his hips, splitting you open on his cock as he begins to rut against you.

“You’re even more perfect than I imagined, fuck… squeezing me so well.”

His words barely even register, the feeling of him moving in and out of you, filling you so perfectly, the fat head of his cock hitting your sweet spot with every thrust rendering you speechless.

He lets go of your breast to grab your throat, squeezing hard enough that your vision begins to blur, “fuckin’ made for me.”

He glances downward and sees the way his cock pushes against your stomach, the bulge visible against your skin every time he thrusts. He presses down on it, the sensation making you let out a squeal as he fucks into you even harder, deeper.

“You gonna cum for me, sweetheart? Make a mess on my cock?” He asks as his opposite hand trails down to rub figure eights on your clit.

“Fuck, yes. I’m gonna cum! Please, please, Drew...” you chant as he picks up the pace.

Before you know it, you’re gushing onto his length, threatening to pull his own release from him.

“You want me to cum inside you? Huh, baby? Fill this pretty pussy up?”

“Yes, please, fill me up, need you so bad….”

Within seconds Drew is shooting hot, pearly, ropes inside you, causing you to moan loudly.

He pulls out and collapses next to you on the bed.

“Fuck.”

#drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x actress!reader #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x you #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey blurb #rafe cameron #drew starkey smut #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey fic #drew starkey fic rec #obx #obx smut #queer #drew starkey queer

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supernovalcholism · 2 months ago

Text

A "Quick" Experiment

ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

18+ ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅɴɪ | ɢᴇɴᴅᴇʀ ɴᴇᴜᴛʀᴀʟ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴀ ʟᴏɴɢ ᴅᴀʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀʙ ᴀʟʟ ᴅᴀʏ, ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰɪɴᴅ ᴀɴ ᴀɴᴏᴍᴀʟʏ. ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ʜᴏᴜʀ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀʙ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ ꜱᴏ ᴅᴇᴀʀʟʏ? ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ʜᴏᴜʀ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ ʜᴜʀᴛ! ᴛɪᴍᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴄɪᴇɴᴄᴇ!

ᶜʷ: ˢᵐᵘᵗ, ᵒʳᵃˡ ⁽ᵐ ʳᵉᶜᵉⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ⁾

Now, as you glance across the room, you see Viktor hunched over his desk, deeply absorbed in a file Heimerdinger had passed along. His messy hair falls slightly into his face, and his sharp features are softened by the dim light of his workspace. He’s been working tirelessly for weeks, and though you’re already two weeks ahead on your own tasks, you can’t help but think of easing his burden.

You and Viktor have always had an... awkward relationship. From the very first day you met, there had been a strange rhythm to your interactions—flustered smiles, shifty glances, and a tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. When you were hired as the Assistant to the Dean of The Academy, Viktor was the one who showed you the ropes, walking you through the intricacies of their systems. He was always so gentle, so patient, and yet there was something in the way he spoke to you that made your chest tighten and your words stumble.

“Is there anything I can help with?” you offer, stepping closer, your voice gentle but carrying enough firmness to show you mean it.

Viktor doesn’t look up right away, his attention still fixed on the document as his finger traces the edge of the paper. Then, after a moment, his lips twitch into the faintest smile. “Yes, I’d very much appreciate it.” His tone carries a warmth that lights a spark of satisfaction in your chest.

Encouraged, you approach his desk, leaning against the edge casually, trying to mask the nervous energy buzzing under your skin. Viktor’s demeanor changes instantly. He sits upright, hurriedly fixing his posture as though your nearness alone had startled him into alertness.

“I can review some of those files for you,” you say, your hand brushing lightly against the corner of the desk as you lean closer. His gaze flickers to your hand and back to your face, something unreadable glinting in his amber eyes.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice lower now, almost hesitant. You’ve never seen him flustered like this before, and it stirs something in you—curiosity, amusement, and maybe something else.

As you reach for the pile of papers he slides toward you, your fingers brush against his, a fleeting contact that lingers longer in your mind than it does in reality. His breath hitches ever so slightly, and the corner of his mouth quirks as though he’s fighting a smile—or a deeper thought.

The air feels charged again, like it always does when you’re near him. But for now, you both focus on the task at hand, the silence between you a curious mix of comfort and tension.

You take the stack of papers Viktor hands you, the tips of his fingers grazing yours. The contact is fleeting, but the heat of it lingers, spreading up your arm like wildfire. You glance at him, but he’s already looking away, his jaw tightening as he picks up his pen and pretends to focus on the document in front of him.

The silence stretches, heavy and electric. You settle into the chair beside his desk, spreading the papers across the surface. His scent—warm, faintly metallic—lingers in the air between you, and you swear the space feels smaller now. Tension knots in your chest as you catch him glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

“You don’t have to stay here,” he says, his voice low, almost strained. “I can manage—”

“I don’t mind,” you cut him off, offering a soft smile that you hope masks the pounding of your heart. “Besides, two heads are better than one, right?”

He nods, but his lips press into a thin line, and his pen freezes mid-word. You watch as he exhales sharply through his nose, his hand flexing around the pen before he sets it down with deliberate care.

“Are you always this insistent?” he murmurs, his tone teasing, but there’s a tightness there, like he’s barely holding himself together.

“Only when I think someone needs help but won’t admit it,” you reply, keeping your tone light despite the way the air between you feels like it’s vibrating.

He chuckles, the sound soft but rough around the edges. “You are... persistent.”

“And you are stubborn,” you counter, looking up at him. For a moment, neither of you says anything. His amber eyes meet yours, and the weight of his gaze makes your breath hitch. There’s something unreadable in his expression—something cautious but undeniably hungry.

You realize you’re leaning closer, the papers on the desk all but forgotten. Viktor’s hand twitches, like he’s debating whether to reach out, but he stops himself, his fingers curling into a loose fist.

“You shouldn’t look at me like that,” he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Like what?” You ask, your voice unsteady, though you already know the answer.

“Like you want something you shouldn’t,” he says, the words dragging out of him like they hurt to admit.

Your heart skips a beat, and the air around you feels impossibly thick. “And what if I do?”

He inhales sharply, his posture stiffening as though he’s trying to put space between you without actually moving. His jaw tightens, and his eyes flicker down to your lips for the briefest second before returning to your gaze.

“Then you are playing a dangerous game,” he murmurs, his voice so low it sends a shiver down your spine.

You lean back slightly, not out of retreat but to let the weight of his words settle. Your pulse thunders in your ears, and yet, a part of you thrills at the crack in his otherwise composed exterior.

“I don’t think you’d let me lose,” you say, your tone softer now, more vulnerable.

His breath catches again, and for a moment, he looks torn. His hand moves, just barely, as if he’s considering reaching for you, but instead, he clenches it into a fist and pulls it back.

“You are too bold,” he mutters, though there’s no real bite to his words.

“And you’re too guarded,” you counter, leaning forward again, challenging him.

This time, he doesn’t pull away. Instead, his gaze locks onto yours, his amber eyes burning with something fierce, something he’s clearly been trying to bury. The silence between you crackles, like the tension has reached its breaking point, and you know—both of you know—that something is about to crack open.

The weight of Viktor's gaze pins you in place, the unspoken tension between you finally snapping the fragile veil of pretense. Neither of you moves for what feels like an eternity, the charged silence filling the room until it’s almost unbearable.

“Boldness suits you,” Viktor finally says, his voice rough, barely above a whisper. His words are deliberate, measured, as though each syllable is testing the boundaries of whatever invisible line exists between you.

“And restraint suits you,” you reply, your voice trembling slightly. “But I’m starting to think you don’t want it to.”

A flicker of something passes through his eyes—surprise, hunger, a hint of surrender. His fingers, which had been so tightly curled against the edge of the desk, unclench, and he shifts closer, almost imperceptibly, as though drawn in by an invisible force.

You don’t know who moves first. One moment, the space between you is thick with unresolved tension, and the next, it’s gone. His hand brushes against your arm, tentative, as though testing the waters, before sliding up to cup your jaw. The warmth of his touch sends a shiver down your spine.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmurs, his breath fanning against your lips, his voice hoarse but steady.

You meet his gaze, and instead of answering, you lean into his touch, your lips parting just slightly in invitation. It’s all the encouragement he needs.

The kiss starts slow, hesitant, like he’s still fighting against himself, but that hesitation evaporates the moment your hand slides to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. He deepens the kiss, his lips firm yet gentle, exploring yours with a tenderness that contrasts sharply with the intensity building between you.

You lose yourself in the moment, the world outside his office fading into irrelevance. His other hand comes to rest at your waist, steadying you as you tilt further into him, your heart hammering against your ribs. His touch isn’t rushed—it’s purposeful, like he’s memorizing the contours of your frame, the curve of your lips, the way your breaths hitch when he leans just a little closer.

When you finally pull back, both of you are breathless, his forehead resting lightly against yours. The air between you feels just as charged as before, but now it carries a different weight—an understanding, an unspoken promise.

“This is dangerous,” Viktor whispers, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

“Maybe,” you admit, your voice barely audible. “But sometimes danger is worth it.”

He exhales a quiet laugh, his lips curving into a small, genuine smile. “You are relentless.”

"And you like it," you counter softly, your hand still resting against his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. He doesn't deny it. Instead, he leans in again, pressing a softer, lingering kiss to your lips-a silent acknowledgment that whatever this is, he isn't ready to let it go just yet.

Viktor’s lips linger on yours, softer this time, more deliberate, as if savoring the moment. When he finally pulls away, his hand remains on your jaw, thumb brushing lightly against your cheekbone. His amber eyes search yours, filled with a mix of uncertainty and longing, like he’s trying to understand what’s just happened—what this means.

“I shouldn’t…” he starts, but his voice falters, betraying his resolve.

“But you did,” you reply softly, your hand still resting on his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breaths. “And I’m not sorry.”

His lips twitch into a faint, rueful smile. “You are… impossible.”

“And yet, here we are,” you say, a hint of teasing in your tone. You tilt your head slightly, your fingers trailing down the fabric of his shirt. “Tell me you regret it, and I’ll leave. Tell me this doesn’t mean anything to you, and I’ll never bring it up again.”

His eyes darken, the air around you growing heavier as he studies your face in silence. The tension is unbearable, every second stretching longer than the last. Finally, he exhales, his shoulders sagging as though the weight of his inner conflict is too much to carry.

“I cannot regret something I’ve wanted for so long,” he admits quietly, the words barely louder than a whisper.

Your breath catches, your chest tightening at his confession. “Then don’t push me away,” you say, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling within you.

Viktor’s hand moves from your jaw to your waist, hesitant but firm, as though he’s still testing the boundaries of this newfound intimacy. “You do not make this easy,” he murmurs, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “But then, nothing worthwhile ever is.”

He leans in again, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that feels different from the first—deeper, more certain. His other hand moves to your back, pulling you closer until there’s barely any space left between you. Your hands find their way into his hair, fingers tangling in the soft, slightly unruly strands as you lose yourself in the moment.

Time seems to blur, the world outside his office forgotten as the kiss intensifies. Every touch, every movement feels like a silent conversation, an unspoken agreement that whatever this is, it’s real. It’s messy, complicated, and undeniably real.

When you finally part again, both of you are breathless, your foreheads pressed together. Viktor’s hands remain on your waist, his grip grounding you in the reality of the moment.

“This changes things,” he says softly, his voice tinged with both apprehension and hope.

“It doesn’t have to,” you reply, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. “We can figure it out. Together.”

His lips curve into a small, genuine smile, the kind that makes your heart skip a beat. “You are far braver than I am.”

“Or just as foolish,” you counter, grinning.

Viktor chuckles, the sound low and warm, before pressing one last, tender kiss to your forehead. “Perhaps a bit of both,” he says, his tone lighter now, though the weight of what’s just happened still lingers. Readers' arms rest on his shoulders. "...Viktor..?"

"Yes?" He gazes into her eyes.

"Would it be foolish of me...if i—" Readers hands slowly trail down his chest, then his stomach. Then, he rests on his waist. Reader sits, laying on the desk in front of him.

"—had my way with you?"

Viktor's breath hitches, his eyes widening for just a moment before they soften, a mix of surprise and something deeper flickering in their amber depths. He swallows hard, as though trying to steady himself, his gaze darting between your eyes and your lips.

"Foolish?" he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. A faint, nervous chuckle escapes him as his hands come to rest on either side of your hips, his fingers twitching slightly as if unsure of their place.

"I think... it would be far more foolish of me to refuse." Your lips curve into a sly smile, emboldened by his words, as you lean_ forward, your proximity making his breath catch once again. His cheeks flush a faint crimson, and you can feel the tension radiating from him, an intoxicating mix of nervousness and desire. "You're so easy to fluster, Viktor," you tease, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you pull him just a little closer. His lips part as though to respond, but the words catch in his throat, replaced by a soft exhale that betrays how deeply you affect him. "You say that," he finally manages, his_ voice low and tinged with a hint of self-deprecating humor, "but you leave me no time to prepare." His lips quirk into a shy, lopsided smile, and for a moment, the tension melts into something tender.

But the heat in his gaze returns almost immediately as you tug him even closer, your fingers trailing up his sides to his collar, toying with the fabric. He sways just slightly toward you, as though drawn by some invisible force, his breath mingling with yours. "So... no preparation?" you whisper, your voice laced with mischief. His laugh is soft but genuine, the sound rumbling against you. "None," he concedes, his voice raspier now, his hands tightening their hold on your hips as if to ground himself. "You're entirely too good at this.' "And you're entirely too irresistible," you reply, your tone dripping with sincerity as you tilt your head slightly, your lips just a breath awav from his.

His composure finally cracks, and with a deep, shuddering breath, Viktor closes the distance, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that's equal parts gentle and fervent, as if he's been holding back for far too long. The world around you seems to fade, leaving only the two of you in this perfect, stolen moment.

The kiss deepens quickly, urgency seeping into every movement. Viktor's careful composure shatters as his hands grip your hips more firmly, pulling you flush against him. His lips press harder against yours, and a quiet, ragged sound escapes him, almost a whimper, as if he's overwhelmed by how much he wants you. You respond in kind, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, desperate to erase every bit of distance between you. The gentle warmth of his earlier touch gives way something far more desperate, his lips parting against yours as the kiss grows feverish. His breaths are uneven, mingling with yours, and you can feel the pounding of his heart beneath your hands as they slide up his chest and clutch at the coll- of his shirt.

"Viktor–" you gasp against his mouth, the sound trembling with need, and it seems to spur him on. His hands slide up your sides, roaming with newfound confidence, his fingertips brushing the edge of your shirt before gripping your waist again, as if afraid you'll pull away.

"I-" he begins, his voice thick with emotion, but you cut him off with another kiss, desperate and consuming, pulling a low groan from his throat. His lips move fervently against yours, almost frantic, as though he's trying to pour every ounce of unspoken feeling into this moment. You lean back slightly, your weight pressing into the desk, pulling him with you.

His body follows instinctively, one hand bracing against the desk beside you while the other slips under your shirt, his touch searing against your skin. The roughness of his movements contrasts with the tremor in his hands, a reflection of the storm of emotions roiling within him. His lips leave yours briefly, trailing down your jaw and neck with an uncharacteristic hunger, his breath hot and uneven against your skin. He presses open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone, his teeth grazing ever so slightly, eliciting a sharp gasp from you. His name spills from your lips, desperate and raw, and the sound only seems to fuel him further.

"Tell me to stop," he murmurs against your skin, his voice low and strained, yet his hands and lips betray no intention of halting.

"I won't," you reply breathlessly, pulling him impossibly closer, your nails digging into his shoulders as if to anchor yourself in the whirlwind of passion threatening to consume you both. His lips return to yours, and this time, there's no hesitation-only raw, unrestrained need as the kiss grows impossibly deeper, each movement charged with desperation and longing.

Viktor groans against your lips, his body pressing firmly into yours, the weight of him grounding you even as the world seems to tilt on its axis. His hand roams under your shirt, the pads of his fingers tracing fiery paths along your skin. Every touch is possessive yet reverent, as though he's memorizing every inch of you, every reaction he pulls from you. The desk creaks beneath you as you shift, leaning back further to accommodate him. Viktor follows without hesitation, his hips pressing flush against yours now, the tension between you crackling like electricity. His lips leave yours again, his breath ragged as he trails kisses along your jawline, your neck, and the hollow of your throat. The desperate way he mouths at your skin leaves you trembling, gasping his name in a way that makes his grip on you tighten.

"You—You drive me mad," he breathes against your collarbone.

Viktor’s hands tremble as they explore the bare skin now exposed to him, his fingertips leaving trails of fire along your sides. He hesitates for the briefest of moments, as though still in disbelief that this is happening, before his lips crash against yours again, even more desperate than before. His kiss is raw and unrelenting, his teeth catching your bottom lip, drawing a soft moan from you that seems to shatter what little control he has left.

His hand cups the back of your neck, pulling you deeper into the kiss, while his other hand moves to your thigh, sliding up the bare skin until it grips your hip firmly. His touch is rougher now, his usual careful precision lost in the haze of his desire. The desk beneath you groans in protest as he pushes you back further, his body leaning over yours, his weight pressing you down in a way that makes you feel utterly claimed.

“Viktor,” you gasp against his lips, your fingers tangling in his hair and tugging slightly, earning a guttural groan from him that sends a shiver down your spine. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his lips hot and insistent against your skin, teeth grazing and biting gently in a way that leaves you breathless.

“You're intoxicating–” he murmurs against your neck, his voice rough and low, sending a ripple of heat through you. “I— I can’t think, can’t breathe when I’m near you.”

“Then don’t think,” you whisper, your voice trembling but firm as your hands tug at his shirt, finally pulling it over his head and tossing it aside. The sight of him—his lean, scarred frame, his chest heaving with every ragged breath—only fuels the fire burning between you. You trail your hands over his chest, your touch reverent but purposeful, feeling the way his muscles tense beneath your fingers.

His lips find yours again, his kiss hard and demanding, his hands sliding up your back to pull you closer. You arch into him, your body reacting instinctively to his, and the heat between you becomes unbearable. Viktor’s grip tightens, his fingers digging into your skin as if he’s afraid to let go, and the desperation in his movements matches your own.

You pull him down with you as you lean fully onto the desk, his body covering yours, his weight anchoring you in the dizzying intensity of the moment. His lips never leave yours, his kisses growing sloppier, hungrier, as though he’s trying to devour you, to consume every part of you.

The room is filled with the sounds of your heavy breathing, the rustle of fabric, and the occasional groan or gasp that escapes either of you. Time feels irrelevant—there is only Viktor, his touch, his kiss, the way his body molds against yours as if you were made for each other.

“More,” you whisper against his lips, your voice barely audible but carrying the weight of your need. He pulls back just enough to look at you, his amber eyes dark and wild, his lips swollen and parted as he tries to catch his breath.

“You’ll be the death of me,” he murmurs, his voice trembling with a mix of adoration and unrestrained want, before he captures your lips again, this time with a tenderness that contrasts the fervor of his touch, as though he wants to savor every second of this moment.

Viktor’s breath hitches as your hands trail down his chest, your fingers trembling slightly but resolute as they find the buckle of his belt. His lips falter against yours for a moment, and he pulls back just enough to meet your gaze. His eyes are wide, filled with a mix of desire and uncertainty, his cheeks flush a deep crimson.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice low and raw, but there’s no mistaking the way his body leans into yours, craving your touch even as he hesitates.

You nod, your fingers deftly undoing the buckle, the metallic clink of it echoing softly in the room. “I’ve never been more sure,” you murmur, your voice steady despite the wild thrum of your heart. Your hands slide to the button of his trousers, your touch teasing but deliberate, and his breath shudders as he closes his eyes, clearly fighting to maintain some semblance of control.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he mutters, echoing his earlier words, but this time his voice is thick with surrender. His hands grip your hips tightly, as though grounding himself, his lips returning to yours with renewed fervor. The kiss is desperate, almost bruising, his teeth catching your lower lip in a way that sends a spark of heat coursing through you.

As you work on the fastening of his trousers, he groans low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your lips. His hands move over your body with an urgency that matches your own, his fingertips grazing the sensitive skin of your waist, your thighs, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. The restraint he’s held onto so carefully is unraveling, and you can feel the raw need in every touch, every movement.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispers against your lips, his voice trembling but filled with unspoken hope that you won’t.

You shake your head, pulling him closer as you lean back further on the desk, your legs wrapping around his waist to draw him in. “Don’t stop,” you breathe, your hands sliding up his chest to rest against his shoulders. “Please, Viktor… don’t stop.”

His composure shatters completely at your words, a guttural sound escaping him as his lips crash into yours again. His hands move with more confidence now, one sliding under your thigh to hitch it higher around his waist while the other cups your face, his thumb brushing your cheek tenderly even as the kiss grows hungrier.

The tension in the air is electric, the world outside fading into nothingness as Viktor’s weight presses into you, his body aligning with yours as though the two of you were made for this moment. Every breath, every touch, every whispered word between kisses pulls you both deeper into the intoxicating haze, leaving no room for doubt or hesitation.

<^>

With a man so intelligent, with dazzling good looks and the softest eyes you've ever seen— how could you stay away?

<^> <^> <^>

Pt2 coming soon... let me know what yall thought and if you want a part 2!!

- Enya

#viktor x reader #arcane #supernovalcholism #Spotify

576 notes · View notes

anakur · 9 months ago

Text

Cuddling him would include... (Featuring The Main 4 & Butters)

🌹| A/N : My first post ^^ I'm glad to have finished it though I am a tad bit worried over my characterisation of them. Guess that's just how I am haha

🥀| Warning(s) : slight nsfw implications- mostly parents' assumptions, but also during the last part for Kenny

Stan ⋆ ˚｡⋆🎧˚

Listening to music. Sharing earbuds or earphones. Especially when his parents are arguing (or if Randy is just... Being Randy)

You two are cuddling, as you look up, you see Stan with his earbud in hand, listening to the noise outside his room. He sighs before turning to you. He presses you closer to him as he turns up the volume on his phone. You wrap your arms around his neck and he closes his eyes, relaxing at your touch.

Smells like weed. Because,, Tegridy Farms.

Wears his beanie when you're cuddling. You take it off and he gets grumpy. Kiss him on his forehead in conciliation and watch as he gets that stupid Charlie Brown grin on his face.

The first few times you cuddled in Stan's room, he cleaned it up beforehand but after the first few times, he stops. Not to say his room is dirty, just, you may find an empty bottle on his nightstand, some clothes tucked underneath his bed or a hoodie draped over his desk chair, threatening to fall.

At some point Stan may get up to move it but it only ends up falling, so he leaves it on the floor. Next time you come over its still there (he swears he picked it up eventually and it just fell again)

The first time you two were cuddling he spent the majority of the cuddling session with his face pressed into the crook of your neck or your shoulder. You found it sweet. He was flustered, because in actuality he was trying to fight the urge to vomit. Eventually he has to excuse himself for a moment. Felt he messed up and ruined the moment, but his heart skipped a beat when he came back to see you waiting for him with open arms.

Kyle ⋆ ˚｡⋆📚˚

He finds drooling to be a bit gross, even though he knows it's not something you control. In the beginning of your relationship he will wake you up to tell you that you were drooling. Reasurres you it's fine when he watches you get embarrassed. Later on in the relationship, he'll just grab a tissue from the box on his nightstand and wipe it off himself.

It's what he keeps his tissue box there for. nothing else

Has to keep the door open, because his mom tells him to. Although his dad is a bit more lenient about it.

Sometimes when you forget about it, Ike will come into the room- having announced himself by a short knock at the door- as he stares at his phone and simply tells you:

" Mom says to keep the door open. "

Ike then proceeds to leave it wide open

" Close it halfway. "

He's already gone.

Kyle's the one who gets up to do it, leaving the door ajar. Everytime. Doesn't make you get up. If you ask for a glass of water, he'll also get it for you (and give you a forehead kiss). Don't abuse that power though, once you overuse it he'll start making you get it yourself.

Will not fall asleep when you're playing with his hair, but, he does feel very comfortable in that position

Says very sweet mushy stuff to you and gets embarrassed when he realizes you were awake the whole time. He trails off and stops talking.

Pushes you away playfully if you ask why he stopped or tell him to continue talking.

If you're watching a movie and cuddling, with a blanket covering you both, especially if it's dark outside and the lights are turned off, Sheila eyes you suspiciously when walking by. Staring particularly onto the blanket on your laps, covering you both waist down.

Kenny ⋆ ˚｡⋆🗑˚

Finds it cute when you drool. He'll chuckle and wipe it off.

Keeps his door closed. Hates it when you can hear his parents arguing. He would offer to share his ear phones but they're not in the greatest condition. Electric sparks flying and exposed wires. So, bringing your own pair would be very much appreciated.

Whispers mushy things to you when you're asleep. When he notices you're awake, he switches it up and starts saying dumb things just to make you laugh. Hears you give in and start giggling and he grins, acting surprised as if he had no idea you were awake.

When Kenny's household becomes too loud, he'll take you outside and lay on the grass together. Makes up constellation names.

It's the middle of the night while you're both sprawled out on the bed. You're sleeping and he's awake. He listens to the sounds outside the window and your breathing. When he hears you moving, he looks over and gently pets your hair, telling you to go back to sleep. His voice quiet and gentle.

be prepared for waking up and having Kenny casually mention he got morning wood

Cartman ⋆ ˚｡⋆🍫˚

Liane asks him to keep the door open but she's very lenient about it, by simply mentioning it as she walks by Cartman's room.

Also will bring you two snacks

Cartman is the type of person to tell his mom you're hungry, when, in fact, he was the one who suggested getting something to eat.

Flabbergasted when his mom turns to you asking what'd you'd like to eat.

Tries to cut you off, suddenly switching to 'we'

Smells like food.

Unlike the other guys he does NOT clean up his room beforehand. I believe however, his room is clean for the most part.

You had to nag him to clean his bed. Yes, his sheets are regularly washed and his bed gets made (both by Liane), but he eats in his bed. Which leaves some crumbs, that stay even after he 'sweeps them off' with his hands.

Imagine Liane's utmost surprise to see her darling son, Eric, on the bathroom floor, with his bed and pillow covers, squinting at the instruction on his phone. He mutters some swear words, before finally turning to her for help.

So the next time you come over, he had cleaned his bed hours before you came and restrained himself from doing anything on it until you arrived.

Actually gets pissed when you don't mention or even notice how clean his bed suddenly has become.

On second thought, he realized you probably will not praise him on a such a basic household task. But c'mon at least acknowledge it.

Lets you lay on him, sometimes.

He's watching some dumb videos on his phone as he had gracefully allowed you to lay your head on his shoulder.

You ask him to turn down the volume.

Fights the urge to not be a dick about it, and not raise the volume.

Begrudgingly he reaches for his headphones.

Once you fall asleep, he starts rubbing your back slowly. Immediately yeets his hand away when you wake up.

Doesn't want to deal with you waking up, even if he himself had also been awake.

" Eric... " you mumble, opening your eyes.

" Go to sleep. " he pushes your head down, as gently as you'd expect him to, onto the pillow.

" But I want water... "

" No. "

" ... What do you mea-"

" If you drink water you'll end up pissing yourself while you sleep. In my bed. "

"... That's not how it works. "

He then proceeded to press you into his chest.

" Fucking sleep. "

Butters ⋆ ˚｡⋆🌼˚

His parents definitely have him leave the door of his bedroom wide open. Not just slightly open. No, fully open. So, the cuddling has to be kept at a modest level.

Just sitting next to each other with some space in the middle between you both.

If his dad walks in, he'll stare at you, as to make sure nothing suspicious is going on.

If his mom walks in, she might remark how nice it is to have you over, asking if you two are comfortable and reminding to keep the doors open.

Holds your hand. Either your fingers are intertwined or he plays with your fingers as you talk, or just lay there in comfortable silence.

Falls asleep first, despite his attempts at staying awake, to make sure you sleep peacefully. However Butters is the one who wakes up first, so you just have him staring at you for a couple of seconds before realizing it may have come across as creepy and apologising for it immediately.

When you traced your finger along the scar on his face, he like squeezed his eyes shut at first. But then next time you ask before doing so, and he relaxes into it. Now he melts when you do it.

Would brush his fingers through your hair, no matter its length. But if his fingers get stuck he freaks out and thinks its his fault.

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2amriize · 2 months ago

Text

.ᐟ RIIZE jerking off ༉‧₊˚.

req: hiii can you do what type are they while jerking off?? like how loud they are, how needy, maybe if they mind getting caught, what are they getting off to etc

warning: SMUT CONTENT, MINORS DNI !

masterlist

⭑.ᐟ shotaro

I don’t think he’s super needy, so he wouldn’t do it very often.

But when he does, he enjoys it a lot.

He makes sure no one can interrupt him when he does.

I feel like Shotaro isn’t very vocal while touching himself

he just lets out soft sighs or whispered moans.

But his soft moans would be SO pretty.

He definitely does it while watching videos, but they have to involve deep intimacy.

He’s just a romantic.

⭑.ᐟ eunseok

I picture Eunseok jerking off in his chair in front of his computer

He doesn’t really care if someone else is home, though he wouldn’t love being caught in the act

still, he doesn’t always double-check that the door is locked

whimpers, gasps, and low grunts

not too loud, though.

he also swears while doing it.

he watches videos or reads smut

but he can also do it by imagining scenarios with characters that turn him on.

okay, but maybe he gets loud when he finishes

guys, I’m dizzy thinking about this, so I’m gonna stop here.

⭑.ᐟ sungchan

This boy is so needy… SO needy.

By far the neediest one.

I feel like the slightest thing could turn him on.

He doesn’t need much

he can touch himself while watching almost anything… or just by thinking.

I think he’s more the type to imagine situations in his head that turn him on.

Also, he groans. ALL THE TIME.

Random thought: I feel like he might also enjoy doing it while looking at himself in the mirror.

⭑.ᐟ wonbin

He is so whiny…

He just can’t stop making sounds.

Even the slightest touch would have him whining and letting out frustrated moans.

It’s like he physically can’t hold back.

He’d also be pretty loud.

He uses his hands, but I think he prefers rubbing against something.

He might even use toys sometimes, but rubbing is definitely his favorite.

While thinking about scenarios with a specific person.

⭑.ᐟ seunghan

He definitely grunts and sighs, but in a very soft way.

He doesn’t need to be in his room specifically to do it.

He’s not overly needy, but when he feels like he needs to, he just does it.

He doesn’t care if he has to excuse himself to go to the bathroom during dinner.

Most of the time, he uses his imagination or thinks about things he’s seen that he found way too hot.

Random thought: I feel like he’s a big fan of sexting.

⭑.ᐟ sohee

He is LOUD.

He tries not to be, holding back his moans because he doesn’t want anyone to hear him.

It feels weird for him to hear himself, so he’d probably cover his mouth.

But he just can’t repress his sounds no matter what.

He needs visual content for it, always going back to the videos he knows he likes.

The closer he gets to finishing, the more desperate and verbal he becomes.

⭑.ᐟ anton

His worst nightmare would be getting caught, so he always double-checks the door is locked.

I see him as someone who does it with his eyes closed, imagining scenarios with his crush.

Anton lets out small moans and sighs, but he tries to keep it quiet so no one hears.

Even so, being Anton, he wouldn’t make much noise anyway.

I feel like he really enjoys listening to moaning and smut audios, so that’s what he’d use most often.

Sometimes he’d even mutter phrases as if responding to what the person in the audio is saying.

masterlist // taglist: @regularsuh @gacktsa @totheseok @kkumistars @taroddori @enhacolor @ladylilith @electric-hearts @astrobymarwa @layluv123 @sunflowers1610 @nctrawberries @synkjellies @ramyeonzprincess @yuzuksi

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wstviewvidal · 12 days ago

Text

homesick- w. maximoff

summary: at last.

pairing: rich!wanda x r

a/n: (real) last chapter of dirty cash! thank you to those who were patient with me. life is crazy!

minors do not interact

the brisk walk to wanda’s office building had you holding your coat shut and your face hidden beneath your scarf. the thick material doing nothing to shield you from the sharp gusts of wind slicing through the street.

the following days after your first kiss were filled with hour long phone calls and dinner dates around the city, the kind that lasted hours because neither of you wanted them to end. you two rivaled that of two lovesick teenagers— not that either of you really minded.

you couldn’t ask for someone as thoughtful and sweet as wanda. she made you forget that you ever wanted to swear off of relationships after jess.

the breakup between the two of you was brutal, the kind that left wounds you struggled to heal.

but then came wanda— who came into your life and swept you off your feet, gentle and electric. a surprise you never expected to love and cherish so much.

you push through the front doors of the building and greet the receptionist with a wide grin as you walk into the building.

she looks away from her computer, peering over her thick glasses, “you here for miss maximoff?”

the subtle smirk on her lips causes you to roll your eyes playfully. you respond with a sarcastic tone, “it’s either for her or to discuss how to buy a share of her company.”

swatting her hand at you playfully, she picks up her desk phone to alert wanda that you are on your way up to her office.

in your hands, you carry a lunchbox filled with a homemade lunch— a small excuse to steal wanda away for a bit.

knocking on her office door, you patiently wait for a response before you walk in.

given the green light, you walk in cautiously, unsure if you’d be intruding on a conversation. you scan the room, noting her degrees framed on the wall and the warm light lamp that’s turned on for ambiance.

wanda stands from her chair, walking over to you with a warm smile, “hi, beautiful.”

you meet her halfway and stand on your tip toes to meet her in a brief kiss, “hi,” you say softly as you pull away.

wanda holds you by your waist, looking you over with a subtle smirk. her eyes have a glint in them, a glint you don’t think you’ve seen before.

“i brought you some lunch,” you gesture to the pink lunch box in your hand, “you have time for me?” you tease gently, rubbing a hand on her forearm.

a small chuckle escapes her lips, her thumbs brushing over your waist in a gentle manner, “for you? always.”

the two of you sit adjacent to each other, enjoying the homemade pasta you’d brought. as you eat, wanda updates you on on the latest work drama that’s been going on— little bits and pieces she’s picked up from afar.

you nod along, finding it humorous that someone so polished and professional would enjoy work drama— especially sharing it with her.. girlfriend?

the title flits through your head and your heart stumbles over it.

the two of you have yet to discuss the topic of labels, wanting to take it slow. you don’t know where wanda stands on labels, or if she wants to take this any further than what it is now.

your heart feels heavy at the thought of wanda not wanting to pursue anything further than what you two are right now. wanda is a busy body, always throwing herself into her work. you can’t blame her for that, but you wonder if this is all she will want from you.

wanda watches you, the small frown on your lips causing her concern, “hey, you okay?” her voice is soft, one she uses with valerie when she’s upset.

you look up at her with a confused look, blinking away the thoughts, “yeah, why?” your voice is slightly high pitched. wanda catches it immediately and raises an eyebrow at you.

she sets down her plate and looks at you with a gentle expression, “what’s wrong? work? your friends?” wanda studies you, as if the answer is written on your cream knit sweater.

a soft sigh escapes your lips and you shake your head, “one day when you’re older,” you poke fun at wanda’s words to valerie when she asks too many questions beyond her age.

with an eye roll, wanda drops the topic but not before nudging your foot with her shoe. you two continue to eat, enjoying each other’s company. you glance at each other with playfulness, not hiding from each other for once.

you glance at the clock on wanda’s wall, a small sigh escaping your lips, “let me call my boss before she thinks i abandoned ship.”

wanda lets out a small laugh and nodding in understanding, “of course.”

you step outside of her office, quickly making the call. you’re just about to put your phone in your pocket before a blonde woman walks past you, a smirk on her lips as she slows down just in front of you.

“didn’t know we had any new hires, are you new here?” she asks, a devilish look in her eyes that you’re not sure you’re a fan of.

you politely shake your head and give a small smile, “just here visiting someone important.”

the woman looks over you, something of a satisfied look taking over her features, “well, when you’re tired of that, we could use some more pretty faces around here.”

the woman’s boldness catches you off guard, causing you to blink at her. a nervous laugh escapes your throat, “good to know.”

before the woman can shamelessly flirt any further, you politely excuse yourself and slip back into wanda’s office. she’s scrolling through her computer, a concentrated look on her face.

holding back a smirk, you decide to tease her, “you’ve got a really good environment going here, you know? very welcoming.”

you’re leaned against the door frame, eyes tracing over wanda’s poised face. her tailored suit enamoring you in the easiest way.

wanda raises an eyebrow, moving to face you completely, “oh?”

“yeah,” you’ve cross your arms over your chest, “one of your employees said i would add to the… camaraderie.”

wanda’s expression doesn’t fade, but you can see how her jaw clenches slightly and her eyes narrow just the tiniest bit, “really? who was it?”

laughing at her subtle jealousy, “not like you’re going to fire them.”

wanda’s eyebrows raise at that, “are you forgetting i have the power to do that?”

playing along, you act like you’re thinking pensively, “i mean, she did call me pretty…”

wanda hums, looking alarmingly calm, but the way her nostrils flare a bit and the way her head tilts to the side— yeah, she’s definitely jealous.

“that’s funny,” she murmurs, “i was under the impression you were already taken.”

before you can even process your next words, you say, “well, i wouldn’t be a good girlfriend if i let people at your company flirt with me, wouldn’t i?”

silence.

the realization hits you like a truck. your face instantly heats up and your stomach does flips.

the both of you freeze, but the expressions on your faces differ drastically. you look mortified at the idea of assuming too far ahead, wanda looks like she just won a game you weren’t even aware you were playing.

“girlfriend?” her voice has a hint of amusement.

you squeeze your eyes shut, as if wishing you could teleport yourself out of the situation you put yourself in.

“wanda, i didn’t mean-“

she leans back in her desk chair, a smug look on her face as she watches you squirm, “am i your girlfriend, baby? when did i earn that title?”

if you weren’t already mortified, that would’ve done it. a nervous smile tugs at your lips and you glance over at her, “are you?”

wanda’s smug look slowly morphs into a warm expression. she stands from her chair and walks over to where you’re standing, her hands finding their familiar spot on your waist.

wanda’s exhales a small breath as she looks over your face, “am i your girlfriend?” her voice is low and soft.

you swallow, hands instinctively finding the lapels of her jacket, “unless you don’t want to be.”

your voice is laced with nervousness and you’re sure wanda can hear the slight shakiness in your words.

a warm laugh escapes wanda’s lips as she places gentle kisses along your jaw, “of course i do.”

she pulls away from you slightly— just enough to look you in your eyes, “is that okay with you?”

you nod softly, taking in the warmth in wanda’s eyes— the genuine sincerity laced in her words, “yeah.”

and then she leans in, placing a slow, lingering kiss to your lips. it’s not rushed or urgent— slow and promising. when she pulls back, she places her forehead against yours.

“i like the sound of that,” she whispers.

you two stand there for a moment, enjoying the moment— wrapped in each other’s arms and letting the weight of it settle.

then—

“now tell me about this employee of mine who thought they stood a chance,” she says, pulling back from you.

laughing, you nudge her shoulder playfully, “relax, maximoff, they never stood a chance.”

wanda’s scoffs, rolling her eyes, “of course they didn’t.”

and just like that, the air in the room is lighter and filled with promise. promises of stability and trust. you and wanda, together. no guessing and no more hesitation.

#dirty cash #noe writes #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x r #wanda maximoff x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff fanfic #wanda x you #wanda x reader #wanda marvel #wandavision #rich wanda maximoff #wanda maxmoff x y/n

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nor-4 · 10 months ago

Text

Soooo Anxious

Oscar Diaz x Reader

It's been a really hot day the degree keeps increasing definitely because of climate change, those damn uncaring did this if only they cared more about the earth.

Good thing you are nice enough to make a Popsicles and snacks for everyone outside since they nag oscar to hang out and fix Oscar's car.

"God why is it so hot outside, I think I'm about to evaporate." Jamal squealed as he roughly swing the fan around, "Boy if you don't shut your mouth I wi-" Oscar was cutted off when you slam the door with you foot as you carry a tray of foods with both of your hands.

"Oh cesar you didn't told me you will be having your friends over." You said luckily you have more popsicles inside as you didn't include Jamal and the others on the list, "I didn't even know, they just passed by." Cesar stated receiving a smack from monse.

"Who's that?? She's so hot.." Jamal whispered as he scooted over to cesar as he eye you up and down, "I know right." Ruby popped out out of nowhere they arrived with him here but they just forgot him.

"If I were you I will not even say that." Cesar said as he catch a glimpse of his brother giving a side eye on Jamal and Ruby. He for sure knew what they said.

"Monse, Jasmine, dear I'm so happy you guys are here." you happily squealed as you walk near cesar to do a beso with monse and jasmine. Monse is like a little sister for you, you are the first person she run to everytime she has this girl problems, same goes jasmine. You are just old to be their sister, a sister that will have a girls night with them.

As for jamal and ruby they were quietly waiting for you to approach them and also do a beso on them but instead you just shook their hands, even though they are still grateful.

"Good thing i made more popsicles, wait.." As you started walking again inside as the two horny boys watch you walk with agape mouth, looking at your clothing which really fit your body. It will for sure make every man's hungry eyes full.

"Oy cesar, what this little friends of your staring for." Oscar said standing up from sitting on the small chair he own to use everytime he fix his wheels. "What who's staring, hey monse stop staring it's bad." jamal said nervously slapping over monse's arms earning a slap back from her.

"Been telling them that." cesar just shrugged walking to get a popsicle since heat have been bothering him since this morning, "You little putas better stop eye fucking my girl before i pull them out." oscar threatened as he started washing his hands so he can eat.

"Stop acting like a bitch in heat now oscar." You scolded as you handed out the popsicles on everyone, "Come on ma I'm just saying." oscar sighed in defeat.

Cesar still can't believe on how you can scold over oscar, he knows scolding on him is not a thing he would even tolerate. But look at you, you just make everything so peaceful by shutting oscar up.

"Here baby sit infront of the fan, it's been really smoking hot lately." Oscar offered quickly as he plugged the electric fan that jamal didn't even know it's there until oscar plugged it, "Thank you darling." You thanked as you touch his bicep after sitting on the chair.

"God she sound so hot, i wish she would call me that." ruby murmured as they sat comfortably infront of them watching oscar reach for a chair from God knows where and sat beside you.

"I swear this kids better stop looking at your boobs" oscar murmured as he stared back at jamal and ruby who was to focused on you, to shut oscar up from saying something about violent stuff you started feeding him with fries you made because you were craving.

"You made this? It's really good." jasmine asked as she almost choked from swallowing it all the way without even chewing it, good thing monse has a heavy hands to slap Jasmine's back.

"Yes i did, thank you.." You said it made you a bit shy but you love it when someone praises your cooking skills, "Do you want a drink monse? I heard the temperature will get higher later, you need to be hydrated." Cesar asked as he placed a hand on monse's shoulder.

"Yes please." Monse said as cesar quickly stood up to get a drink on the kitchen, "Get my queen some too" oscar commanded as you smack his face.

"You're being too cringe you know."

"Come on, i cannot care for my girl now?"

"Do you want me to tie your hair up?" Oscar asked again but this time more sincere than his sarcadm earlier, "Yes please baby, thank you." You said as your back faced oscar to tie your hair up.

It took a long time for oscar to learn on how to tie your hair so everytime it's getting hot you wouldn't even need to do an effort to tie your hair, plus oscar always carry two of your hair ties on his wrist just in case you forgot one.

After tying your hair up he kissed you shoulder like a light weight of feather which made both of you giggled like a high school teenagers as you face him, oscar used to be a not so affectionate significant others. But by the time being on a relationship with you he learned that it's very important to do, it's his favorite language of love.

He loves to touch you feel you in his hands, to hug you on a cold night, to hold you when you feel sad, to hold you and make you know that nothing can really change his love for you.

Another thing is he used his confidence to compliment you every second, to assure you, to tell you how much he loves you how much you meant to him.

"God I've never been more jealous in my life.." ruby murmured as he sadly munch on his burger.

#oscar diaz smut #oscar diaz x reader #oscar diaz #on my block #on my block x reader #spooky x reader #spooky smut

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temilyrights · 4 months ago

Text

in the darkness (open your eyes)

melissa schemmenti x fem!reader

summary: melissa and reader are angry with each other over reader's dating life. who will break first? or will someone need to intervene to get them to pull their heads out their asses and make up? inspired by prompt 31 “Let’s just say that if I saw you bleeding out on my kitchen floor, I’d act like I hadn’t seen you.”

word count: 4.6k

warnings: arguments, swearing, hurt/comfort, insecure!melissa, age gap, reader is referenced as being under 30.

a/n: hello friends, this has been a long time coming. i've wanted to write for this queen for ages and when i finally sat down to do it the words didn't stop spilling out of me. i haven't been able to write like this in years, so i think i've found my passion again in melissa <3 it's good to be back. it's a long one and i hope i managed to capture her correctly. enjoy :)

For twenty years Barbara Howard has arrived at Abbott Elementary at 5.50am on the dot, just in time for her to park her car, take a stroll to the staffroom and make herself a coffee before Action News started at 6 sharp. Now, the walls of Abbott were never calm, but for 30 minutes every morning, while she sipped her coffee and listened to the soothing tones of Jim Gardner, everyone around her seemed to be able to keep themselves together. Even in her first year of teaching Janine had never tried to disturb her, maybe for once able to sense the importance of these moments for a successful teaching day.

Barbara can tell it will not be a normal day in Abbott the moment she pushes past the green doors into the building. The energy is high in the air and she fears if she touches anything an electric shock might meet her. Still, she sends a prayer to God and pushes her way through the building.

No one was stopping her from getting her 30 minutes of peace.

She finds the culprit for the upsetting energy the moment she crosses the threshold of the staff room and is not slightly surprised. Melissa sits in her usual chair, her face murderous, eye’s dark and tongue in cheek as she stares pointedly at the wall with her arms crossed tightly against her chest. Jacob sits on the couch, eyes on his phone and leg bouncing anxiously, he shoots a look around the room and when his eyes land on Barbara his body sags in relief, thinking he’s found safety.

Whilst Barbara’s got no idea what has happened, she also notes that the room is empty apart from the three of them and although Melissa’s anger making people scram is not an uncommon occurrence, it has never, in the last two years since you joined Abbott, made you flee a room. In fact, Barbara had watched you calm Melissa down with a simple touch to her arm, something she has never been able to do.

You did not fear Melissa, which means this anger was likely related to you. These moments were normally quick and fleeting and yet Melissa was so upset it was going to disrupt Action News. Definitely not a regular morning.

“Would you like a coffee, Melissa?” Barbara asks, starting simple as she enters the room and makes her way to the coffee machine, barely sparing Melissa a glance.

Melissa stands and takes the coffee mug from the table beside her and throws it on the floor, shattering it into tiny pieces, making Jacob yelp. She stalks from the room, muttering angrily under her breath something about ‘betrayal’.

Barbara sighs tiredly, pressing her fingers to her temples. Today was going to be a long day.

She considers going after the redhead but as a simple question had produced such a ferocious reaction, she decides it is best to let her cool off before work starts and sits down with Jacob to catch the reminder of Action News.

She was determined to not let today become a complete lost cause.

Later, on her way to her classroom to set up for the day, she finds Melissa with her head buried in grading, probably a good idea and a way to calm herself down after this morning's fiasco. However, you’re completely missing from your classroom, very unusual.

A complete disruption to your routine this morning it seems, Miss L/N.

Barbara lays eyes on you for the first time that day when she’s walking her class to their music lesson. You offer a smile and “Good Morning, Miss Howard,” but the bags are obvious under your eyes. You did not sleep well last night.

“Good Morning. Your class is in an excellent mood this morning. Gym class?” She asks, looking behind you to the excited third-graders who stand in lines of two, well-behaved but talking in a low excited chatter.

You chuckle, “I’ve never known a class to love it more.”

Barbara hums, waving goodbye as you turn off down the corridor towards the gym. She drops her class off with the music teacher, making sure to remind them to be well behaved before she heads back down the corridor, stopping at your classroom.

You look up from your desk, surprised. “Can I help you, Barbara?”

She’s never seen the point beating around the bush, and she was not about to start now. “I ran into a very angry Melissa this morning. Do you know something about that?”

Your entire body tenses, your smile going rigid and tight on your face. Barbara can see the anger simmering behind the surface. Unusual. You were always more calm, more open to reason. “I’d be more surprised if you’d said she was in a good mood. Now I’ve actually got work to be doing, if you don’t mind.”

“Y/N,” Barbara sighs, giving you the pointed look that always works on students and teachers alike.

You shake your head, “I really respect you a lot Barb, but you’re not gonna be able to fix this one. Please just leave it alone.”

Barbara stands there for a long moment, staring at you, before she releases a sigh. “Fine. But one of you needs to fix this because Abbott barely has enough mugs as it is.”

She gives you one last pointed look before leaving the room. You sink into your desk, hands capturing your head to stop your head from slamming against the desk and adding to your already growing headache.

Fuck Melissa Schemmenti.

Fuck everything about her.

She had no right to be angry. You’d done nothing wrong. You felt bad for blowing off Barbara, you knew she was just trying to help. And usually a pointed look from her had you confessing your darkest sins, but not this time you couldn’t. She couldn’t fix it. Melissa was the one in the wrong and you were gonna keep a wide berth until she bloody well realised that.

Although knowing Melissa, you’ll be on your deathbed before that happens and maybe even then she’ll find something scalding to say. It’s what you get for trying to have an honest conversation with a red-headed cancer.

She was more ill behaved than your worst students.

——

You dismiss your students for lunch minutes before the bell rings, hoping you’ll be able to run to the staff room and grab your lunch and run back without facing the redhead. It’s not that you’re scared of her, you simply don’t have the energy to deal with her attitude so eating in your classroom was the best option.

However, your plans are foiled when Ava stops your pathway talking about a new tiktok challenge that she wants you involved in. “You’re the only teacher that won’t embarrass me and show off that this place has at least some fit, young teachers.”

“Sure, whatever. I need to go.” You say, not really listening as you put an end to the conversation and move past her.

“Rude!” She yells back at you, “But do your thing, girl!”

By the time you make it to the staff room everyone is already there. Jacob is telling an over the top story about something uninteresting to Janine and Gregory. And Barbara and Melissa are talking quietly at their usual table, where you usually join them. Melissa looks calmer than when you’d spoken to her this morning, she even smiles at Barbara, however the moment you step into the room it all fades away. Her eyes land on you and her eyes harden and her shoulder tense. She jabs the salad in her tupperware harshly.

You can’t contain your eye roll and don’t bother to say hello to anyone as you make your way through the room to the fridge.

Janine picks up on the tension in the room, drawing her away from Jacob’s rambling that appears to have gotten more anxious. “Woah, what’s going on guys?”

“Nothing.” You say.

“Y/N’s a snake.” Melissa gruffs at the same time.

You slam the door to the fridge before you can grab your lunch, swinging around to glare at her as Barbara releases a horrified, “Melissa!”

“You’re a child. Just grow up!” You growl.

“Rich comin’ from the girl that isn’t even thirty yet.”

“Well that wasn’t a problem for your sister when I went on a date with her last night!”

The gasps in the room are instant. Even Gregory breaks out into a coughing fit as he struggles for breath. And okay, yeah. So you went on a date with Melissa’s sister, but in your defence you hadn’t known she was her sister until half way through the date and then you’d fucking ended it because you knew Melissa would get her panties in a twist.

And you thought you were being a good friend coming clean, that it would be a funny story. But no, classic Melissa flipped her shit talking about betrayal and schemes.

“Kristen Marie?” You hear Jacob mutter horrified under his breath. You don’t bother to correct him but no, her you knew. It had been Toni, Melissa’s youngest sister. You’d matched on Tinder and apart from both having green eyes there was nothing on her profile that gave away they were siblings. Toni was tall with short brown hair. You hadn’t even known she was from Philly until you showed up.

Melissa pushes herself up from her chair, her eyes dark and murderous as she stalks over to you. “I want nothin’ to do with ya.”

The hurt you’re feeling is shoved down. There’s no place for it when she’s angry. “Fine by me. If you’re this upset over one date I left early then maybe it’s a good call to bring this friendship to an end.”

“Guys-” Janine tries to interrupt.

“No,” You state hardly, eyes never straying from Melissa’s cold ones, “Schemmenti finally knows what she wants.”

“Yeah I do, and it’s you far away from me. In fact, so it’s clear for everyone just how I feel about this traitor, let’s say that if I saw you bleedin’ out on my kitchen floor, I’d act like I hadn’t seen ya.”

More horrified gasps. The words hit you in the chest but you barrel forward, your words scalding as you see red. “Wow, Schemmenti. It’s real no wonder you’re alone, is it? Determined to run anyone out your life that shows you any kindness. I’m surprised Joe lasted so long.”

Barbara shoots up, lips pursed and hands signalling a sharp line. “Enough! That is enough!”

Your shoulders slump, tired and drained. Everyone looks on edge, Janine close to tears although the words hadn’t been directed anywhere near her. Barbara was right.

You sigh, turn around and grab your lunch from the fridge while Melissa storms back to her chair.

“I’m sorry for the disruption. Enjoy your lunch.” You say to the group as you head for the door.

“Yeah, and don’t come back.” Melissa grunts.

“Oh, fuck off.” You snip, sending her one last glare before you storm back to your classroom where you close the door with perhaps too much force behind you. Which works in your favour because it’s a great deterrent in case anyone gets any unwise decisions to follow you, luckily they don’t.

Over the course of the next week you try every mindfulness trick in the book but still end up going home most evenings and screaming into a pillow. Everyone for the obvious reason that they weren’t shit scared of you had started coming to you begging you to fix the relationship between you and Melissa, like she wasn’t the one to burn it down in flames in the first place!

You don’t care how many times Janine comes to you crying about Abbott peace needing to be restored, or Jacob complains that he’s running out of crockery because Melissa keeps smashing it, or even Barbara’s pointed looks (which you know Melissa will be receiving as well) you refuse to give in. Not this time.

Ava’s pointed, “Fix this because I’m not starting doomsday with a fighting crew so I will have to pick, and it’s not looking good for you.” definitely hurts a little because you thought you were friends.

“This is the end of the world, Y/N. Friends get you killed! I need a crew with skills to make sure I survive.”

You walk away from that conversation and miss Melissa not for the first time that week. She’d say something kind to cheer you up like, “Doomsday ain’t happening, but if it does I’m not anyone’s patsy. Me, you, Barb and her family are all headin’ up to my timeshare and I’m keeping youse safe.”

As you walk the hallways of Abbott you hear her voice through the open door of her classroom. You pause, leaning against the wall where she can’t see you, and listen to her teach. You haven’t heard her voice void of hate all week and it was draining you. For a woman set on wanting nothing to do with you, she seemed to be around every corner shooting you a glare or scorching remark.

You melt into the wall, and listen to her lead her class through a grammar lesson, her voice gentle as she praises and encourages students. You miss the days you could drop in to her class on your free periods and bring her a cup of coffee just to see her eyes light up and receive a warm smile before leaving her to teach. You miss sharing food over lunch, you hate not having anyone to try your new recipe’s on. You miss every little soft touch she’d give you throughout the day, a hand on your arm, on your upper back, on your shoulder. You didn’t realise how much you relied on those moments to keep you steady until they were pulled away and suddenly you didn’t feel safe in your own body anymore. Ridiculous. You lived many years before Melissa Schemmenti your body and brain just needed to get the memo that it was happening again.

You needed to get over yourself because your friendship with Melissa Schemmenti was dead. Those kind comments weren’t coming and you needed to stop yearning for them if you wanted to survive at Abbott. First things first, maybe stop wistfully waiting outside her classroom.

You’re back in your classroom at the end of the day, packing up after dismissing your kids, when Ava’s voice rings through the intercom, “Miss Schemmenti and Miss L/N report to Miss Howard’s classroom immediately.”

What the hell?

You frown and place the books in your hands down before you head towards the kindergarten's teacher’s room, curiosity getting the better of you.

Melissa runs into you in the corridor, her brows drawn together in confusion. “You know what this is about?” She asks gruffly.

“Not a clue.” You sigh.

You let her lead the way into the classroom. Her walk signalling her preparation for battle. The protective streak in her simmering under the surface, you’d be dumb to think it had anything to do with you.

The kindergarten classroom is empty and in perfect order. Barbara Howard stands poised perfectly beside her desk, her head held high. “I’d like both of you to sit down please.” She says in her sickly sweet voice. The one you know means danger if you don’t comply so you perch on a desk near the front of her class.

StIll, Melissa doesn’t follow orders. Instead, hovering by the door. “Barb, what’s going on?”

Barbara holds her gaze, eyes flashing, even as her voice drips with honey, “Melisssa, dear. Sit down.”

She grumbles but this time complies, choosing the desk on the other side of the aisle to you. “Happy?”

“Wonderful.” Barbara clasps her hands together and starts making her way to the door. “Now, you two are going to fix what’s happened between you-”

“I’m not talking to that-”

“Barbara-”

“I do not want to hear it!” She cuts you both off. “I’ve had enough of the temper tantrums and sulking. You’re worse than the teenagers. So pull it together and admit you miss each other so people can stop walking on eggshells and poor Janine’s hair stops falling out.”

Thoroughly told, you slump further in on yourself as Barbara strides out of the room. The door shutting behind her and the unmistakable sound of a lock clicking into place.

You chance a glimpse of Melissa from the corner of your eye. Surprised she wasn’t up, ready to kick the door down to escape you. It’s then you notice just how tired she looks. Her makeup has begun to fade, revealing the dark circles under her eyes, her face was drawn and pale, her eyes lacking their usual sparkle. She looks exhausted.

“Melissa, what’s it going to take for you to forgive me?” You ask plainly.

She shoots you a glare, eyes full of fire again. The tiredness hidden and slammed up behind shields. “You know this ain’t a forgive and forget sorta situation.”

You push yourself off the desk and walk closer to the woman of your torment, “What so we don’t listen to Barbara and Abbott continues to be an awful place to work because everyone is uncomfortable whenever we’re in the same room.”

She shrugs, “I’ve worked with enemies before.”

“I’m an enemy now? Come on! It was one lousy date! You wanna throw away years of good friendship for that? I’ve apologised multiple times and I’ll do it again. I’m sorry Melissa. I wouldn’t have gone on the date if I’d known. You must know that.” You say incredulously, watching the hard-headed woman in front of you. “Why would I wanna jeopardise my closest relationship here? You really think you mean that little to me?”

She wavers, the words touching her, but she doesn’t soften. Instead, she pushes herself off the desk, making herself taller.

“You talk the talk. But if that’s all true,” she jabs a finger in your direction, “why’d you send goddamn’ nudes to my sister, Y/N!”

Your eyes widen, jaw dropping in shock. “What the hell are you talking about? We went on half a date. Why would I have sent her nudes? Do you really think I’m that sort of person?”

She crosses her arms against her chest, “I saw her last Sunday, before your date. She told me about this ‘young thing’ she was messagin’ and receivin’ risky photos from. You tellin’ me that weren’t you?”

“Firstly, ‘young thing’ is disgusting.” You protest, and Melissa winces in agreement. “But more to the point, no it was not me. Not that it would be any of your business if I did decide to send those types of photos to someone because I’m an adult and it’s my choice, Melissa. I get she’s your sister but I told you I left the date when I found out and that I had no interest in seeing her again. So I just don’t understand what the problem is.”

She sighs, and takes a step back. “You really tellin’ the truth?”

“Yes!”

“Fuckin’ hell,” She grumbles.

Her gaze drops from yours as she kicks her shoe into the ground, a frustrated grunt leaving her lips. When she looks at you again, her gaze softens, the anger melting away leaving her vulnerability exposed. “Look, I hated the thought of her seeing youse like that, alright? I love my sister but she’s not got the best track record of treatin’ women the way they ought to be treated and I didn’t want you messed up in that. If you were sharin’ those photos it should be with someone that respected ‘em, respected you. Not someone that treated you like her latest play thing.”

“So you took it out on me.”

“Well you still went on a date with my sister,” She says with an eye roll, “but I guess I got a second wind of anger when I connected the dots and It was easier to blame you. I’m sorry.” She shrugs.

You smile tenderly. The calm good, hope settling in your stomach that everything might actually be okay. She cared about you being treated right, that was something, at least.

“I’m sorry too. For everything I said in the staff room. I didn’t mean it.” You respond genuinely. You’d regretted the words as soon as your anger had faded.

“All’s good.” She shrugs again, with a smile. And you know you’re forgiven, even if you don’t feel like you quite deserve it.

She tilts her head, fingers tugging on the belt straps of her jeans - which doesn’t make your heart skip a beat at all. “Let me ask one thing ‘nd then we can move on for good.”

You clear your throat, “S-Sure.”

“Why her?”

“Mel-” You shake your head.

“Come on, there’s gotta be loads of women on those apps, but ya choose to meet with Toni, why?” She asks, watching you closely, eyes guarded, like she’s scared of your answer.

You sigh and contemplate lying or refusing to answer, especially with how new the calm is and how quick she can be set off again. But you also don’t want to refuse her and you can see the vulnerability she’s desperately trying to hide.

“Honestly?” You shrug, unable to hold her gaze, “I liked her eyes.”

“Seriously?” She chokes, eyes widening in surprise. She ducks her head and shifts on her feet, “People have always said we got the same eyes.”

“Similar. Yours are lighter, bigger, prettier.” The words are out your mouth before you can stop them and you kind of want the ground to swallow you up whole.

Melissa smiles, her cheeks dusting pink, as she laughs and rolls her eyes. “Yeah, okay, hon.”

The compliment hadn’t been intended and leaves you feeling exposed, but still you hate her immediate refusal. A trend since you started at Abbott. Apart from compliments on her teaching, which she accepts, she’s always quick to dismiss the kind words that come from your mouth. Any compliments on her hair, her outfits, her personality are all quickly laughed off. You hate it, and what’s worse, you really don’t understand it. She accepts everyone else’s nice words, you know she’s so confident in herself, so it doesn’t make any sense.

“Why do you do that?” You ask, sighing.

She furrows her brows, “Do what?”

“Always reject the compliments I give you.”

She huffs, eyes averting yours. “I don’t.”

“Oh, come on,” You chuckle, “You’re gonna have to do better than that.”

She crosses her arms against her chest, shrugging, “You’re a kid, whats it matter if I accept your compliments or not?” She challenges

“I’ve told you not to call me that.” You say firmly, eyes narrowing.

You had this conversation a few months after you started working together and she promised she’d stop calling you that. You were aware of the age gap, but that doesn’t mean you need to be patronisingly called ‘kid’, especially by Melissa. She knew better.

Her eyes narrow as her hand comes out to wave at you, “But you are, alright? Ain’t even thirty. Why are we kiddin’ ourselves with nice conversations and stupid compliments that mean nothin’.”

“You don’t honestly believe that,” You breathe, voice calm even as your heart beats rapidly.

“You should be hangin’ out with kids your own age, not me.”

“I do, you know this. I have out of school friends and I’ve got Ava and I join the after school crew sometimes.”

She stares at you, her eyes hard even as her hands shake. You reach out and place a gentle hand over hers and watch as her whole body relaxes.

Her eyes squeeze shut and she drops her head, a deep sigh escaping her lips.

“Mel, this is me.” You whisper. “My favourite part of the day is sneaking into your classroom and giving you a coffee because it makes you smile. You have no idea how much I’ve missed it this last week. It just so happens that out of everyone you're still my favourite person to be with. What’s so wrong about that?”

Shining green eyes meet yours, “I ain’t good for ya.”

Your brows draw together, heart aching as you step closer to her. “That’s not true.”

She’s so close you can see the brown specks in her green eyes. You want to reach out and cup her cheek, hold her close and help somehow.

“Isn’t my opinion what matters?” You prompt.

Her eyes gaze back into yours, pained and tormented.

“You’re a terrible idea.” She breathes, voice so quiet you barely hear it over the sound of your thumping heart.

“Mel,” Your heart thuds, your voice shaking as you're guided closer by an invisible force. Your hand rests on her upper arm, hers perching on your waist and all your thoughts disappear in an instant as your eyes squeeze shut and you try to remember how to breathe.

Her eyes track your face, memorising every detail now she has you so close. The slight furrow of your brow, your delicate eyelashes, your open mouth.

“Fuck it,” She sighs, her hand coming up to cup your cheek, fingers cool against your overheated skin. Your eyes open and Melissa’s darkened ones stare back at you. Your teeth dig into your lip and her eyes follow the movement.

You can’t find your breath as Melissa guides you towards her, her mouth slowly moving closer to yours. Your fingers grip into the cotton of her t-shirt the moment her lips tenderly brush against yours. You melt into the kiss, a mew escaping your mouth as you kiss her back. All thoughts gone as you give into the sensation of her lips against yours.

It doesn’t last long but you still can’t find your breath when Melissa pulls back, a nervous smile on her lips.

“Wow,” You breathe.

She chuckles affectionately, her eyes warm as she watches you. “That’s all you’ve gotta say?”

“Uh…Kiss me again, please?” You offer

She chuckles again, her smirk victorious as she rolls her eyes. “Come on, tell me what you’re feelin’”

“Oh, isn’t that obvious?” You squint, “I’m obsessed with you. I have been for ages. You’re the one that was keeping it all close to the chest, Schemmenti.”

She shrugs, “Dunno. I might’ve suspected you had a thing. Wasn’t sure though, and with those dates you’ve been going on. I was gettin’ mixed signals.” She rolls her eyes.

She’s been going on dates as well but it seems pointless to point that out. “Melissa, I’m crazy about you.”

She grins, “I kinda have a thing for ya too.”

Your heart thumps at her words, like the kiss wasn’t enough confirmation. Her smile and warm eyes, matching your own goofy smile. “That’s good to know. How about you let me take you out for dinner?”

She rolls her eyes, “What the same place you took my sister? No hun, I’m takin’ you out.”

Your teeth dig into your lips as you try and fail to suppress your smirk, “Oh, was that the real issue? Jealous that your sister got to go out with me first?”

“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” She grumbles.

“Oh yeah, is that so?” You tease, leaning in close.

Melissa’s eyes darken, “I’d watch it if I were you.”

“Why’s that?” You ask, excitement rippling down your spine.

“‘Cause you’ve got no idea what I’m capable of.”

“Is that a threat?”

“A promise.”

Your body heats up. All the air leaving your lungs as Melissa laughs.

“This is gonna be fun.” She grins.

She pats your hip, “Come on, hon, let's find a way out of this room and then I’ll take you on a proper date.”

You nod, unable to form words as you follow her blindly.

But with Melissa Schemmenti, you know you’ll always be okay, even if she does have a dangerous impact on your ability to regulate your breath.

You think it’s worth it.

For a woman that beautiful, just about anything is.

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary #barbara howard #fem!reader #kt writes #fanfiction #fanfic #in the darkness (open your eyes)#abbott elementary fanfic #my gif #aeedit #ae #abbott #i'm nervous omg please enjoy

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