#how it ends and how i want the pacing to happen throughout

[wereshrew-admirer]

scratching at the walls

[sukunasweetheart]

the tiger and his milk! 🐯

in this world, a certain tiger hybrid male keeps a keen eye on a cow hybrid female next door...

warnings; female reader, inaccurate?omegaverse, lactation without pregnancy, animal-human hybrid AU (but theyre more human than animal tbh just imagine them with ears and a tail), heat and rut, breeding, alcohol as aphrodisiac, bullying of the cervix, tit sucking, nipple teasing, biting, dry humping, overstimulation, sexual frustration, neighbours-with-benefits, knotting, f!masturbation, lots of cum, this is straight up just a hxntai oop

word count; 6.5k

dividers by @/saradika-graphics and @/thecutestgrotto

do NOT expect a serious and well-paced writing from this one, i was horny and the end result is just.... this. sorry not sorry, I AM WARNING YALL; this is one degenerate ass fic also forgive me for any inaccuracies in any of the tropes i used, i just cherry picked the parts i wanted and mixed it all together so...

moving to this new neighborhood hasn't been all too easy for you.

being a little low on money aside, there's a certain rambunctious neighbour who won't leave you alone. he playfully terrorises you with threats to eat you up, and makes comments that all go straight to your head, making you feel weak and flustered, leading you to cower beneath him. though you should firmly tell him to cut it out, you struggle to do this when you’re dealing with someone who could be a natural predator of yours, had you been an actual sow and not a hybrid. 

that, and also-

strangely, there's a part of you that doesn't despise the way he treats you. in fact, when you see his large, brutish hands and the veins that run up his arms, you feel yourself squeezing your thighs together. you brush it off as it being a result of your apparent loneliness and sexual frustration. there's nothing good that'd come out from being with such a discourteous man.

setting that aside... there are numerous other problems that you've been having to deal with, recently.

your breasts have been collecting milk faster, and much more than usual, recently.

even for cow hybrids, milk should only be produced when the female is pregnant, and for only a year or two at most after giving birth. for some unknown reason, you produce it all year round, even without needing to have children. doctor after doctor you've visited, and all they've told you is that you're a strange anomaly. there is nothing you can do about it except extract it every now and then, to relieve the pain and swelling.

tonight, that is what you're planning on busying yourself with, once you get home from your shitty office job.

walking towards your porch with a deep sigh, you hear a deep voice call out to you.

"bad day at work, dollface?" your terrible neighbour-- sukuna, he's called, asks you with a cigarette in his hand dressed in jeans and a black tanktop. his tail swishes playfully behind him.

dollface. one of the few nicknames he uses condescendingly to refer to you. it's either dollface, doll, or sweetheart, and you don't recall ever hearing him actually use your name.

"um, work was alright... thank you for asking. have a good evening."

you like to make things short and stop any further conversation from happening, even though it might come off as a little awkward. one of sukuna's ears flick at your dry response, but he doesn't seem to bother you any further as you hurriedly unlock your front door and head inside.

sukuna drops his cigarette bud on the ground, and puts out the flame by stepping on it. you're not very sociable, as per usual...

but your sweet, passing scent makes for a little growl to rise in the back of his throat. sweet milk. that's what you always smell like. how curious. how tempting.

once you're home, you immediately grab your breastmilk pump that sits beside your sink. it hasn't been too long since you last cleaned it. you unhook your bra, and grimace at the wet stains on it, from leaking bit by bit throughout the day.

you press the pump up against one of your breasts and press the on button. it starts doing it's job. you sigh from relief, and watch as it fills up quite quickly. you wonder what you should do with all of it...

you stop the pump to empty it out into a glass bottle. it's a tedious process. sometimes... sometimes you wish you had a partner who could help you with it. sometimes, you wish someone would latch their mouth on and extract you directly-

what if he-- sukuna- did that for you? forcefully held you down and-

your eyes widen and your tail droops with shock at your own intrusive thoughts. heavens, no! you need to get yourself a partner. it's been too long. you hope you're not heading into heat already? it's not time for that yet, at least not according to your usual cycle. shaking your head as you extract the remnants of the milk from your breasts, you finish up quickly.

at least tomorrow, it will be saturday.

you'd forgotten about how overgrown the grass in your front yard had gotten. so, even though it's a saturday, and despite how you'd love to stay inside with all the curtains shut and doors locked tight... an unpleasant duty calls outside.

but despite the meticulous preparation of lathering enough sunscreen over yourself in protection against the sun's rays - the lawn mower suddenly doesn't want to heed to your calling.

your face scrunches up into a frown. darn thing.

the useless machine splutters and makes an obnoxious noise only in the beginning before giving out, no matter how many times you try to rev it back up again.

"goddamn it. you stupid thing," you mutter under your breath, crouching down to inspect it.

"need help?"

sukuna leans against the fence that is shorter than his own height, watching you with amusement. he'd been observing you for quite a few minutes by now.

"no thank you. i'm quite alright..." you respond without turning back. you know damn well whose voice that belongs to.

but does he listen? of course not! you hear the noise of the man easily bypassing the fence by elegantly hopping over it, before walking over towards you. how funny, even the fence fails to serve it's purpose in this moment.

"like that's believable. you think verbally degrading it will make it work?" sukuna snorts, coming around and shooing you away from the lawn mower.

he gives it a nice big rev, but not much happens. you smile slightly, wondering if he was going to make a fool of himself, after all that big attitude.

sukuna brings his foot against the side of the machine and gives it a hard kick. the sound startles you.

and now it's starting up nicely, and beginning to do it's job.

the man begins to mow your lawn for you, without another word. you stand around, not knowing what to do... your ears flicker as you stare at him doing your job for you. it feels odd. what is he up to?

well... no matter the hidden motive, it's true that he's doing you a huge favour. perhaps you should at least make a cold beverage for him, once he finishes with your yard. after observing him for a while, you head back inside to search for what would serve as an appropriate iced drink.

by the time you've stepped back outside, the yard is cut neatly and sukuna is in the midst of returning your lawn mower to your garage.

you silently hand him over his drink, and he takes it with a smirk.

"it's gone..." he suddenly comments.

"what's gone?" you question, with a raised eyebrow.

"that sweet smell that always surrounds you."

he proceeds to down his drink very quickly, not breaking eye contact with you. then, he starts chewing on the ice, tail swishing mischievously behind him.

"i... don't know what you mean." you cross your arms.

"hmm. playing dumb, i see. that's fine, i suppose."

you stand awkwardly with him in silence, simply listening to him crunching away on the ice. the heat from the sunlight gets more and more unbearable.

"if you're done with your drink... i think i'll start heading back inside now. thank you for your help today," you tell him politely, carefully taking your cup back from his hands.

he makes it seem like he's handing it over to you obediently, but then he tightens his grip against it when you're holding onto the glass, making you stare up at him in confusion. he pulls it back, so that you stumble closer to him.

"just letting you know. if you need any help, you can always ask me."

you're a bit nervous, but you try not to show it. does he know something? how much does he know? you feel your tail cowardly fall in between your legs. sukuna's ears give a light flick, but you don't know what that means.

"...we're neighbours, after all."

you look at him with distrust, holding onto your cup tighter. your gaze is unwavering as you meet his eyes.

"sure. i'll keep that in mind," you respond slowly.

seemingly satisfied, he lets go of your glass.

"thanks for the drink. see you."

it's a short backhanded wave he gives you, before he hops over the fence again. you narrow your eyes. just what kind of fence is this useless? can't even keep away one bad, bad man. you're not sure how much he's caught onto, but you sure hope he stops being interested in you with enough time. he easily sends odd tingles down your spine, and you don't like that one bit.

not at all...

the working part of an office job isn't actually that bad.

it's the people involved around you that makes it a living hell. nothing gets your blood pressure higher than your collusive colleagues and snobby superiors - especially the lazy ones who do everything to shove their workload onto other people.

such people are yet also, annoyingly obsessed with get-togethers and teamwork, which makes you laugh.

today is such an unlucky day, that you've been dragged off to an after-work gathering at some cheap restaurant with your shitty coworkers, all because one of them decided that they needed one.

nothing like being surrounded by a bunch of people that you hate, on a wednesday evening. you have to put on a fake smile, and remain the passive, agreeable coworker in this environment. they coerce you to drink more alcohol. you want to decline, but you feel as though you'll ruin the mood if you turn them down. you down a few pints of beer.

you can feel your breasts leaking again.

just let me go home, you think to yourself, for the fifth time in a row.

your wish is only granted after an hour or two later. you're still sober, maybe a little tipsy, seeing as you can feel the heat in your face from the alcohol. your body is probably not taking it very well today.

the first thing you do when you get home is washing your hands and settling down with your little trusty pump. when you undo your bra, you sigh in relief as your chest feels free. and also...

it's probably the alcohol acting as an aphrodisiac - you're a bit more sensitive tonight. you caress the swell of your breast and groan, your horniness overriding how tired you are. your other hand wanders down your panties, and your ears droop down.

you purse your lips together and let your fingers work against your clit for an orgasm that you know will be unsatisfactory, but you chase after such pleasure regardless. your breaths quicken, and you tilt your head back, closing your eyes. nearly there...

just when you were about to reach your first high of the night, a firm knock is heard from your door. just your luck. a ruined orgasm.

who can it be, at this time of the evening? you throw on a cardigan that just barely covers you up, and boldly stomp towards the door, irritated. you could give this person just about any piece of your mind.

but when you open the door, you're met with your most cunning and bothersome of a neighbour, sukuna. maybe it's because you're hornier than ever right now - you feel as though he looks even...hotter, tonight. his scent makes you dizzy.

sukuna had come by because he needed an ingredient for his dinner.

he wasn't expecting to be met with the eye candy that is your slightly disheveled self, with one hand keeping your loose cardigan together, while you're very obviously braless, judging by your nipples jutting out against the fabric. that, and the thick smell of your arousal that hit him right when the door had opened.

"wh-what do you want?" you ask, a little breathless, trying to keep it together.

sukuna looks down at you, trying to keep himself calm. this seems amusing. he doesn't think he'll be able to stop himself from tenting his pants soon, if he stays around you longer...

"you look like you were busy with something... sorry to interrupt," he voices slyly, his fangs showing when he smiles.

"just... get on with it, please," you frown, your legs squeezing together. you can never tell what he's thinking - whether he knows everything or if he's pretending to know everything.

"nothing much, just ran out of salt at home. could i get some of yours?" sukuna shrugs innocently, holding up his empty salt jar.

"hold on a second."

you turn around to button your cardigan up with a sigh of annoyance, and you tell him to come in while you grab your salt from the kitchen.

once sukuna steps inside, he observes a million details at once. the very first thing he sees is your little pump that you'd forgotten to put away there. there's no way that puny thing is enough for you, is it?

in your kitchen, you grab your jar of salt, and attempt to open the thing - but your arms feel like jelly at the moment. you grit your teeth and try harder, cursing at yourself for shutting it so tight the last time you used it. you begin to strain your arms further. sukuna marvels at this excellent opportunity he is granted.

your feelings of irritation are whisked away when a pair of hands gently land on top of yours, against the jar. his fingertips reach the lid through the gaps between your own fingers. you feel the bigger man's body warmth, when he comes around from behind. it makes you feel so weak. your tail is hanging off to the side, raised high.

sukuna applies a bit of pressure, and the jar comes off easily. you note how warm his large hands feel.

"i came here for the salt, but now i'm thinking maybe i won't need it anymore..." he whispers down at you. your ears can't help but flicker from his voice.

"what... do you mean by that?" you ask, not knowing what to think.

he guides your hands to put the salt down on the counter. and then his body presses up against yours a little harder. you can feel his growing boner against your behind, and you feel lightheaded. sukuna peers down longingly at the exposed side of your neck.

your pheromones mix with his, and his fluffy tail curls around your leg, almost possessively. sukuna's hands are still holding onto yours, and you feel your breaths get more laboured by the tension.

"i promised to lend my help, didn't i? c'mon..." he coaxes, speaking closely so that his breath grazes against the skin of your neck.

you feel yourself starting to sweat a little more - his body heat is just too much. your chest is uncomfortably full, and the thought of someone sucking on your sensitive nipples is enough for you to finally cave in, and play the fool for the night.

you break free from his grasp for a moment, and hesitatingly point to your couch.

"...sit. it's probably easier on the couch," you tell him, not looking his way. and now you're even shoving him towards it, impatiently.

"my, how demanding," he comments teasingly. he knows you purposefully broke the tension - to prevent him from taking the lead. but he obediently takes a seat on your couch. following that, you awkwardly mount him and sit on his lap.

sukuna watches with a softer smirk as you unbutton yourself again, revealing your leaky breasts with a flustered look on your face. sukuna's hit with that familiar sweet scent that's always been floating around you all this time - but now, it's right in front of him, in full force. it makes his mouth water. he was right about you lactating.

"....go ahead," you tell him shamelessly, yet still sorely embarrassed, cheeks feeling so warm that you're concerned you might pass out. "just be gentle," you warn him, looking at him with a little hesitation and pursed lips.

sukuna feels his cock twitch against you, and he wonders if you can feel it too, from the way you're sitting right on it. his own face feels quite flushed - any man would be the same if they were in his position. such a pretty thing in his lap, willingly undoing her buttons for him. he's never seen tits more beautiful than yours.

"hurry-" you breathe out, impatient, and moreover, shy from the way he's shamelessly admiring your face and chest with a dumb smirk plastered on his face.

not even a millisecond after you say it, he puts his searing hot mouth around one of your nipples. your brain ceases to function as a zap runs through your body, and you whine without meaning to, your back arching. though you grab at his shoulder, your other hand claps over your own mouth to muffle your moans.

the suction of his mouth does wonders for pleasure, nothing like the dull feeling that your mechanic pump gives. you hear his throaty growls as he sucks on your nipple, getting a mouthful of the taste of your sweet milk. you shudder on top of him, becoming pliant with his touch.

sukuna bathes in your warmth and the softness of your breasts, enjoying how he is able to breathe in your scent from this close. your milk isn't like anything he's ever had before. not too sweet and yet not bland - a taste that is unique to you...

his other hand squeezes your other nipple, making sure it isn't too lonely from his touch. you jerk your hips against him, whole body twitching from the pleasure, the joy of having your tits milked by someone else rather than yourself. you can't hold your moans back any longer.

"fuck... oh please..." you mumble, feeling your breast being drained of it's milk.

he stops sucking for a moment, and you see the beautiful but subtle blush on his cheeks, as he looks up at you like he's intoxicated. he lets his tongue out and flicks it up and down your erect nipple, rolling it around the areola. it makes you whimper and tremble in his lap.

"don't... tease me..." you say through gritted teeth, frowning at him while he merely chuckles at your reaction.

sukuna attaches his mouth to your other breast, as it's leaking so much - as if to beg him to drain it next.

your cunt is pulsing so bad, and you feel yourself drenching your panties already. you subconsciously grind down against him and his obvious boner, trying to relieve yourself, desperate to reach a proper orgasm this time. both of you are in a lusty haze, unconcentrated eyes, you're lost in pleasure and he's lost in the taste of you, your breast milk dripping down his chin as he messily gulps down with greed.

sukuna also bucks his hips up against you, cock straining in his pants - god, he's so hard that it hurts. when was the last time he's felt such a way? he breathlessly sucks and slurps everything out of you, feeling the milk pass down his throat and into his stomach. he could drink this shit forever.

he wants to cum. he's gonna fucking cum. into his pants no less, like a damn virgin. with the way you're rolling your hips around and grinding down on him like a whore, its only a matter of time.

"haah... sukuna... more- do it more," you plead, relishing in the pleasure of having your tits taken care of, while you get yourself off on his very obvious erection - rubbing your clothed cunt against him. it feels so good on your sensitive clit, you're gonna lose your damn mind.

sukuna doesn't pry his lips away from your nipple, but his hands come off your breasts - you feel his arms wrap around your waist instead, holding you down against him tightly, guiding your hips and helping himself dry hump you harder while his face is still all up in your tits.

your breathing quickens even further, and you grab fistfuls of his shirt on his back, shutting your eyes in anticipation-- before letting your orgasm crash over you completely. you gasp as your clit throbs intensely, and you feel slick leaking all over in your panties as you ride your climax out against sukuna's hard cock, shuddering as you do so.

sukuna groans with his mouth still on your breast, his orgasm coming a little later than yours, dick twitching as rope after rope of his cum soils his boxers, hips bucking up into you without control - it feels so restricted in his shorts, and he desperately wants to take it out. his lips finally leave your swollen nipple with a little pop sound. his large hands come to grope the soft flesh as he comes off his high, a dull throb ringing in his cock, one orgasm being far from enough.

"look at you, rubbing your cunt all over my cock to get yourself off, like a proper slut. aren't you a little too eager?" he teases breathlessly, with a weak smirk on his face.

"you're the one... that came onto me so strongly..." you pant, drunk from the waves of pleasure you just received, and from the endless twitching of sukuna's giant cock... he's still hard.

"just admit that you're perverted. arguably, even worse than what i am," sukuna mocks, pinching at your nipples, making you wince.

"shut up, you."

in the spur of the moment, you lift your hips up slightly to shove your hand down his pants to take his dick out due to irritation. sukuna gives the slightest flinch from the sensation of your hand, grabbing onto his now bare erection.

you begin to fiercely jerk him off with a frown on your face, wanting to punish him for his comments a few seconds ago, knowing he's still sensitive from his recent orgasm.

"fuck-! what're you-" he cuts his own voice off with a choked off gasp due to the tight grip of your hand against his twitching cock. he's back to bucking his hips again as you pump up and down with both hands, his dick already being lathered with his own cum making it easier for you. the noises that come out of him almost fills you with pride - and also surprise. you'd never thought that someone like him would ever moan in this way... you jerk him off faster, and a little harder, being fixated on his pretty looking cock that keeps jumping in your hands.

"shit! that's- enough-" sukuna gasps again, chest heaving and whole body jerking, but oddly, not attempting to stop you at all.

you watch in awe, as his cock spurts out several strings of white cum once again, his head tilted back with deep groans, dick pulsing - your hands keep away from it for the first few seconds just to observe, but then you help to milk it dry, grabbing his base and slowly stroking up and down. he shudders from your touch, and the sight of him being so sorely sensitive makes you feel your heartbeat in your pussy again.

he really does cum a shit ton. it goes for what seems to be like ages, never ending pulses of his cock and rope after rope tainting your hands, and his own stomach. the way he shivers before you, how captivating his groans sound, it all makes you want to do it all over again.

you slowly rub his tip against your palm, playing with his dick as if it were a toy - but this time, he grabs your wrist to stop you.

"enough..." he says with a low voice - and the look that he gives you sends a shiver down your spine.

he's beginning to smell a bit different. its not like before. and it's getting thicker by the second...

"ah, fuck.... i'm in rut," sukuna admits with a scowl, and a flushed face.

the realisation hits you like a truck.

"look at what you've done," sukuna growls as he grabs your hips and pushes you closer towards him, his cock impossibly harder. he's breathing heavily, and you see the precum that's gathering on his tip. he won't be able to hold himself back much longer, and you know it.

and curse the omega in you - you're unable to resist him, and you can feel yourself syncing with his rut, a strange swoop occurring in your stomach. his strong pheromones make you lightheaded and feverish, instigating your submissive side as you become obedient - sitting on his lap with an eager shine in your eyes, breathing heavy from his strong scent and your desire to be dominated.

you want to have your brains fucked out. you can't take it anymore.

as if reading your mind, sukuna lunges forward and practically throws you onto your back on your couch - you let out a yelp and watch as he pulls your shorts and panties down and casts them aside, stripping you completely. you feel so vulnerable, but his intense strength and desperation is only adding to your arousal.

he pushes your knees up and rubs his cock up against your clit, and puckering hole.

"look at all this slick. you want me that bad huh?" sukuna remarks darkly, sweat gathering on his temples.

you grit your teeth, fighting the urge to give him a meek response - having the strange desire to provoke and set him off until the end.

"you're the desperate one here..." you tell him breathlessly, sensing how his dick is practically begging to be inside you, with the way it twitches on your cunt.

your blood runs cold for a second, when you see the way he looks down at you, with a vein popping out on his forehead.

"...maybe i am," he relents, with a low voice, grabbing your face.

and then he leans down to shove his lips against yours, while thrusting his cock into you at the same time.

you whimper into the kiss as his tip hits your womb like nothing. you'd ignored how massive he was at the start, but now it's impossible to brush off.

"t-too big..." you mumble when he breaks away from your lips.

sukuna groans as he drags his cock in and out of your sopping cunt, practically holding him in an iron grip from the suction. your endless amount of slick coats his dick with plenty of lubricant to fuck you more easily.

"you can take it, doll. i'll make you take it..."

his eyes dilate as he begins to piston his hips at a fast but uneven pace, groaning shamelessly as his cock ravishes your pussy by hitting all the right places, heavy balls smacking against your ass with every thrust. the pleasure runs through your veins like electricity, and you feel high off the feeling of someone so big and strong using you like you were his fleshlight - to relieve his rut.

you can barely breathe from the way he pounds you, relentlessly pushing you to the limit, tears forming in your eyes and high pitched moans coming from your throat.

"ohh-! sukuna... oh, please please please..." you plead, almost sobbing.

he responds by leaning down to lather his tongue against your scent glands, sucking on them and rest of the skin on your neck. you shudder and let out another set of whimpers - and sukuna's fangs feel antsy, wanting to sink them into your flesh.

sukuna aims for the sweetness from your breasts, to distract himself. you cry out as he roughly latches onto your nipple and begins to suck as he squeezes your soft flesh. his cock feels like it's about to burst.

when he stimulates your nipples a certain way and his tip grazes your g-spot at the same time, you're hit with an orgasm that makes you squeal and has your cunt fluttering uncontrollably.

his dick gives in to the sudden milkings of your pussy and sukuna pushes his hips to settle himself into you as deep as he can - giving a choked off groan from the sudden climax as his cock swells up inside of you, anchoring itself.

the knowledge of him knotting you doesn't seem to matter as you enjoy the feeling of the warm gush of his cum pouring into your womb, his balls clenching with every rope that spurts out, messily coating your walls with white.

sukuna pants so heavily above you, abs flexing as he continues to orgasm in your warm cunt that still has a dull pulse from your previous climax. he nuzzles into the crook of your neck with a soft growl, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

your breathing relaxes as you lay still on the couch while sukuna weighs you down and breeds you properly, consequences be damned. you could try and fight him off, but it's been so long since you've been so sexually satisfied that your logical thinking has turned itself off. all you want to do is enjoy bathing in the pheromones of your alpha and let the heaviness of his large body drape over yours as he pumps you full of his babies.

sukuna is usually very careful about who he's around when he's in a rut - and he's always made sure either he or his partner had some sort of protection on before doing anything. he wouldn't want to go around having kids with the wrong people. it's hard to say whether you're wrong or right for him - he doesn't know much about you to judge yet...

but you make him feel so right.

and he's still fighting off the urge to mark you to make you officially his, with drool beginning to run down his chin. his fangs are making it unbearable; he needs to bite something right now.

"you look restless..." you tell him, getting him to tear his gaze away from your neck, to your face instead.

you pull him in for a messy kiss, slipping your tongue into his mouth. he feels the way you brush over his fangs, paying extra attention to them as you make out with him, and it makes him groan. you must have done this with someone else before. sukuna nips at your tongue and lower lip, doing his best not to break skin - trying to relieve himself of the urge to bite.

the swell of his knot is gradually subsiding, but you know that the night is far from over.

"which way to your bedroom?" sukuna asks after breaking away from your kiss, breathlessly.

"farthest down the corridor, past the kitchen.." you respond, feeling a little needy after he abruptly stopped the kiss like that.

"hold onto me."

he lifts you up easily with his arms, and you wrap your legs around his waist, arms over his shoulders. the display of strength makes your heartbeat quicken.

when you're laid upon the soft mattress of your bed, his lips come crashing down again - while his hips begin to give shallow thrusts, cock still hard and throbbing. sukuna kisses you like he's a man starved, and you feel as though he might actually swallow you up at this rate.

the strong grip on your hips tighten as his pace gets rougher. you have to break away to gasp and moan. every time he jostles your body, you feel his previous heavy load sloshing inside you, and it's getting too much. sukuna doesn't look like he's even entirely here, hips moving mindlessly and drool dripping down his chin - it's a terrifyingly arousing sight.

he tries to come down and kiss you again, but you have to push his face away - you're so out of breath that you're afraid you might pass out if he does that again. it's overwhelming, how his thick cock bullies itself against your walls over and over again.

sukuna doesn't seem too pleased that you're pushing him away; he holds you tighter and he adjusts his hips to fuck you deeper. you mewl loudly, but keep your hand weakly against his face - he doesn't force it away, but lets his tongue droop out, caressing your fingers with it. you feel him bite and suck on your hand as his sharp thrusts produce small bulges in your stomach.

you witness his eyes dilating again, and you swear you see hearts in them this time, your fingers still in his mouth.

his dick feels so, so good in your pussy. your intoxicating smell now surrounds him after coming into your bedroom, and it's driving him insane. he grunts above you, balls feeling heavy, dick pulsing as his tip finds its way knocking on your cervix. there's a thick ring of cream foaming on the base of his cock now, a mixed concoction of both his cum and your slick.

his thrusting gets sloppy and his hips stutter, meaning that he's going to orgasm again. sukuna's eyes roll back, as he messily "kisses" your hand, pushing himself balls deep into you at the final moment.

you arch your back at the sensation of his knot swelling up once again, cumming at this moment. sukuna almost topples over from the tightness, as the walls of your cunt flutter around his knot, effectively squeezing everything out of him.

"f-fu-uuck..." he drones, his voice dragging the curse word out.

you feel him dumping every drop into your poor womb, emptying his balls. you're afraid that you'll get addicted to this "full" feeling, the warmth of his seed filling you up, the way your insides can feel his cock twitch violently with every thick string of cum he shoots out. you never imagined being held down and inseminated would feel this good.

sukuna's eyes are half-lidded, pleasure continuing to run up and down his spine. he pins your wrist down against the bed suddenly, and latches his mouth to one of your breasts - beginning to suck immediately, like he's trying to rehydrate himself with your milk. you shudder. it seems as though he's doing nothing but take, take, and take from your body... not that you'll stop him from doing so.

you run your fingers through his soft hair, catching your breath, slightly trembling each time he sucks a little too hard. shortly after he is seemingly content, he completely collapses his body over yours, face all up in your breasts, purring while his knot still sits inside of you.

you sense that it's only the beginning of a long, long night.

once the sun has rolled into the sky, you finally remember the fact that the weekdays haven't finished yet - and that you're supposed to be getting ready for work right now.

problem is, there's a certain someone clinging to your whole body from behind, still purring against the nape of your neck with a hand lazily groping the flesh of your tit. you can feel his fluffy tail curling around yours, possessively. you're sleepy, and his stupid purring keeps coaxing you to take a nap. he's a lot more docile and softhearted than you imagined. you supposed he'd be out of your house by now.

you reach out and feel around to grab your phone, to give your workplace a call to take the day off. while you're on the phone, sukuna places soft kisses down your back. you hope your boss can't hear the excessive vibration in the background. once you're done with that, you shove your phone under your pillow.

"i need a nap... you can use my shower, or go home, whichever you prefer," you tell him sleepily, shutting your eyes.

"is sleeping next to you also an option?" he asks from behind you, snuggling up closer.

"mm," you reply mindlessly, already dozing off. he slips his arm under your head. admittedly, his arm pillow does feel comfortable.

when you next wake up in a few hours time, you don't know what to feel when you notice that he's still next to you in bed.

"finally awake?"

"yeah... i'm surprised you haven't left," you mumble, following that with a yawn.

"i'm surprised you're not chasing me out," he shoots back.

"what would be the point? i'll see you again the moment i step outside the house."

"i bet you love that. being able to see me all the time," sukuna teases, twirling a strand of your hair with his finger.

"ugh, think what you will," you roll your eyes, trying not to be flustered.

you suddenly realise how thirsty and hungry you are.

"i'm starving... i don't remember what's in the fridge," you mumble to yourself.

"hop in the shower with me and i'll take care of all your meals today," he offers, smirking.

you don't really trust his intentions - especially something as intimate as showering together - but you are famished, and you don't think you will be bothered to cook at all today.

"what meals are we thinking?" you ask, curious.

"hm. well, how about steak?"

"... is that a threat?"

sukuna bursts into laughter.

he informs you that the salt he had originally wanted from you was supposed to be for the steak he was cooking last night. who knew that he'd be having a different kind of steak that evening? you look unamused as he makes the joke between chuckles.

unsurprisingly, you do end up in the shower with him, and again, unsurprisingly, he does pay extra attention to soaping up your tits in particular, and making out with you a little here and there. but as promised, you are rewarded with possibly the best meals you've ever had since you moved to this neighbourhood.

after a bit of conversation, turns out the man is a freelance chef, which is something you would've never guessed. from first glance, he seemed like he could've been part of some gang or a shady underground business.

when you sheepishly apologise for misjudging him based on his looks, sukuna laughs once again, and tells you that he'll forgive you if you let him continue to "help you out" from here onwards...

the rest is in dot points bc im lazy!

originally, i had wanted to make this a bit more toxic but i turned it more wholesome bc i felt like ive already posted toxic stuff before this so haha...

btw you do a few pregnancy checks while sukuna is still there after that night, and it turns out negative. it's a big sigh of relief for you and while it should be the case for sukuna too, since he's never really liked the idea of having kids, for some reason there's the tiniest twinge of disappointment...

anyway - after this, their relationship turns into a weird mix between friends with benefits and ?lovers, semi slow burn

often crashing in each others beds and sharing meals, but also having periods where you won't see one another for a week or so when life gets busy

thing is, you always try and tell yourself that you'll only use him to relieve the swell in your breasts, but it's never the case. things always go out of control and you end up bouncing on his cock without thinking of the consequences.

and he can't stop himself from teasing you everytime, those tits of yours could kill a man, he swears. sukuna gets extremely touchy with them, grazing his fingertips over your nipples, groping you with your shirt still on like a lewd old man, life just feels better when he has your tit in his mouth or hands. it hardly feels like he's actually bullying you when he gets hard like a mf while doing it.

and there are moments where he blurs the line between FWB and becoming something a little more, like when he scents you before you leave his place. "...why're you scenting me?" "why not?"

there is an incident that happens in your house one time, where a huge water leak had happened while you were away at work, drenching the floorboards and things requiring a lot of fixing. you had nowhere else to stay that wasn't either a motel or some cheap sauna so sukuna offered you to sleep at his place for the time being.

it really made things between you two feel a lot more intimate and romantic, a lot of tension, especially when sleeping together without the sex and doing all the chores. both of you felt a little empty when the house maintenance was all done and you had to go back to your own place.

"but there's nowhere for you to sleep except for my bed. i'm not bothered to clean out any of the spare rooms and i don't suppose you want to sleep on the sofa for weeks straight?"

a sly method of getting you to sleep next to him.

also, this man is quite loaded with money. freelance chef popular in demand, but he only takes up jobs that he feels like doing. sometimes he'll leave his house empty for longer times because he's busy, which makes you quite lonely and confused, since he doesn't really explain to you where he's going and why a lot of the time.

when he eventually is back again, he is met with you, holding the scent of some other alpha. he finds himself feeling incredibly upset and possessive, even though he's always deemed relationships to be superficial in his life, because it limits his freedom. but he just feels so deeply unhappy about it that he ends up arguing with you

he knows it shouldn't be something he is entitled to feel angry about when he's not even properly committed to you but it's not like he's ever mingled with other omegas ever since he's met you? it just felt so unfair to him in the moment.

shortly after the argument, you end up confessing you didn't even do anything with the alpha anyway, just a boring date and one quick hug. and sukuna also explains that it was his fault in the first place, leaving and coming back without saying anything. turns out that he sometimes works as a chef in places like hotels and when he's preparing food for companies or people who live a distance away, he just spends the nights somewhere nearby for convenience.

the tension is high after both of you are finished clearing things up, and it eventually leads to sex again. he wants to get rid of that scent ASAP, whether it was from just a hug or not, he needs it GONE. and this time, he properly marks you, sinking his fangs into your scent glands like he's always ached to do.

the night ends with you two officially becoming a couple, finally haha, happy days

the end

Masterlist

[felinecyan]

Meddle About

[Katsuki Bakugo x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: When something… intimate happens between you and the explosive boy, you seek out the comfort and advice from your fangirl best friend.

WC: 6832

Category: Fluff, Slight Spice/Lime, Mixed Signals

Might be ooc (I blame Chase Atlantic for this one), but I wanted to post something… interesting since it’s OFFICIALLY my birthday 🗣️🗣️

『••✎••』

Here you were, pacing back and forth in your best friend's dorm room. You hadn't said a word, only muttering incoherent thoughts to yourself while your eyes flitted around the room as if you could find the words written on the walls.

Mina watched you from her bed, leaning forward on her hands, which were planted on her mattress. She had her legs crossed beneath her, and she was rocking herself slightly. Her mouth was agape with excitement and confusion, and her eyes were wide as she watched you.

You felt bad for disturbing her sleep, but you were too overwhelmed to wait until morning to talk to her about what had happened. When it happens, you can't even wait an hour to tell someone about it, much less eight hours. So, with your impatient nature, you hunted her down after five minutes of attempting to calm yourself down and failing.

Mina, who had been sleeping soundly at the time, was jolted awake when you burst into her room and slammed the door shut. It wasn't until she heard the lock click that she realized the situation.

You were freaking out, and it had something to do with a boy.

When you first started at UA, the two of you had promised each other that you would never keep a crush a secret from the other so you could gush and squeal over the boys together. Of course, it had always been Mina with a crush, and you were giving advice. She had had her eyes on several guys throughout the year, but you had remained unfazed.

Until...

"Okay," Mina began. "I'm not even going to ask why you were walking around the dorms at one in the morning. But, seriously, tell me what happened!"

Your hands, which had been tangled in your hair, fell to your sides as you turned to look at her. Your cheeks were flushed, and your heart was racing. You didn't know how to begin. You wanted to just blurt it all out, but at the same time, you were afraid.

"I... uhm... well..." you stuttered, wringing your hands nervously.

"C'mon, I'm dying here!" Mina whined, bouncing in place. She reached her hands out and grabbed yours, tugging you forward until you were sitting next to her on the bed. "You're acting as if you had your first kiss or something."

You stared at her, blinking slowly as you processed her words. Then, without warning, she froze. You were afraid she had short-circuited. Her mouth hung open, and her eyes were as big as saucers. Her grip on your hands tightened as she gasped loudly.

"No," she whispered. "No way."

"Mina..."

"You did!" she exclaimed, her voice rising to a volume that could probably be heard throughout the dorms.

"Keep your voice down!" you hissed, grabbing a pillow from behind her and smacking her across the face. She didn't react, her mouth still open.

"Tell me everything," she demanded, her voice lowered. "How did it happen? When did it happen? Who did it happen with? I want to know all the details, so spill."

"Mina..."

It was rough to have her pressuring you. She was always good at doing that. It was part of the reason why you ran straight to her. You knew that she would force you to talk about it, and you needed to talk about it. You didn't want to stop talking about it. You didn't want the night to end, and you didn't want to forget about it.

"I'm listening," Mina told you, squeezing your hands once more. "Don't be afraid to get all the gushy details. You know I love that stuff."

You couldn't stop your eyes from rolling as you took a deep breath. You decided to spill her favorite part first.

"I can't get it out of my head, Mina," you whispered. "I didn't even realize he could do that. I didn't know he was capable of it. I was so dazed by his actions that I didn't know what was going on. It felt like I was dreaming. I don't even know how it escalated so quickly. I just found myself against the wall, and he was looking at me, and his eyes... oh, his eyes, Mina, his eyes."

"Who the hell are you talking about?!" Mina interrupted. She looked like she was going to burst from anticipation, and you were slightly enjoying keeping her in the dark. Especially since she had no idea it was the guy who she least expected it to be.

"Do not yell," you warned her, pointing your finger at her face. "You won't believe me, but I swear it's the truth."

"What?" she asked. "Who was it?"

"Promise me you won't freak out."

"Okay, now I'm nervous," Mina said. She moved backward on the bed so her back was pressed against the wall. You watched as her fingers dug into her blanket, her knuckles turning white. "Now you have to tell me. I'm terrified, so you have to. Who was it?"

You took another deep breath, your heart beating loudly.

Now or never.

"Bakugo."

You were ready for your ears to bleed. You were expecting her to scream bloody murder, and you were ready to clamp your hand over her mouth to shut her up. But, instead, she broke out into laughter. And it wasn't her usual laugh, either. It was loud and obnoxious, and she threw her head back and cackled.

"Yeah, right," she breathed out, wiping a tear from her eye. "Oh, that was a good one. I almost believed you. Now, really. Who was it?"

Your jaw dropped, and you could feel anger boiling inside of you. She didn't believe you? I mean, yeah, it was completely unbelievable with how he acts with everyone, but you didn't joke around like this. And you were honestly offended that she thought you were.

Mina laughed again and again and again. Every time, it became harder for her to breathe, and her laughs turned into snorts. Her face was bright red, and her shoulders shook violently as she giggled. It wasn't until she finally opened her eyes to see the glare on your face that the laughs eased up.

"I mean, it's a good joke," she chuckled. "But, seriously, tell me who it really was."

You didn't say a word. Instead, you just gave her the most deadpan stare you could muster, which still took her a moment to register. Once she did, however, that smile of hers fell off her face faster than you could blink.

"Wait... you're not joking?"

"Do you really think I'd come here in the middle of the night if I was?"

She stared at you with a shocked expression on her face. She was speechless, and you were waiting for the reaction you expected. You were sure her brain had exploded.

"You mean to tell me," she said, her voice shaking. "That Bakugo... the hot-tempered, vulgar, rude, foul-mouthed, explosive asshole just kissed you? He kissed you?! Are you serious?"

"Mina, please, not so loud!"

"Are you serious?!" she screamed, leaping off her bed. "You have got to be joking. There's no way that happened. No way! It had to be a dream or something. I can't even see him doing something like that. Of all people, it's him? I even see Mineta before him! He's like... not capable of showing any emotion that isn't anger."

"Mina!"

"What the hell happened?! I want to know all the dirty little details!" she yelled, rushing forward and grabbing your arms. "How did you get that maniac to do something so... un-Bakugo-like? What did he do? How did he kiss you? Was it nice? I can't believe he kissed you! He's never kissed anyone before!"

"Mina, shut up!" you hissed, covering her mouth with your hand. She kept mumbling against your skin, and you felt her tongue swipe across your palm. You grimaced, pulling your hand away from her and wiping it on your pants.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!" she squealed, jumping up and down. "How did you do it? Oh, I'm so happy for you! Why didn't you wake me up sooner?!"

"Mina, please. It's late," you told her. "Be quiet; he can probably hear you."

"Wait... how long ago was this?"

"Uhm... maybe twenty minutes or so."

She stopped bouncing, and her jaw dropped.

"You kissed Bakugo twenty minutes ago," she said. "And you just came to my room?! Why the hell are you even here? You should be with him! Get your ass back to him and make sure he kisses you again!"

You were taken aback by her sudden outburst, and your cheeks flushed. The thought of going to him now sent a wave of anxiety through you, and you were beginning to regret waking Mina up.

"I can't go back there," you told her. "Not yet. I can't... I can't look him in the eye."

"Why the hell not?" Mina questioned, furrowing her brows. "This is a huge! He still hasn't even called me by my actual name. But, he kissed you? That's insane. He's gotta be a secret softy or something. I need details."

"Mina, you don't understand," you said, sighing. "I- I never felt like this before. I'm... I'm stuck. My mind is blank. I can't get him off my mind. It's driving me crazy. I didn't realize someone could affect me like this."

Mina stared at you for a moment before a smirk appeared on her face. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked at you with a mischievous gleam in her eyes. "How did he do it?" she asked.

"Mina," you said. "I just told you that—"

"Yeah, yeah, I know, but did he just walk up and kiss you or what? Like, how did it happen? You have to start from the beginning."

You rolled your eyes but obeyed her orders.

And the truth was, you honestly still didn’t know how it happened. You were yelling at each other over something dumb, as usual, but then the conversation took a strange turn. You had no idea where it had come from, and the memory was hazy, but you remembered what he had said.

"You wanna know what I fucking think?" He was seething, his fists clenched at his sides. His jaw was tight, and his eyes were burning holes into your head.

You didn't remember what you had said, but you remembered what he replied and the way he walked towards you.

"I think," he growled, and you were backing away from him. "You're so fucking desperate for attention that you're willing to do anything. Just admit it. You're so lonely that you'll try to make friends with anyone."

The scoff you had given him was followed by a few insults that you didn't remember. In all honesty, the things that were said weren't worth remembering. It was always the same old fight. But, for some reason, it was the actions in between that had caught you off guard this time.

You didn't realize how much you were trying to create space between the two of you, but every time you took a step back, he took one forward. You were trying to keep your voice steady and strong, but your hands were shaking, and your legs were weak.

It was only a matter of time before you were backed against the wall, and you could feel his breath hitting your face. Your eyes were wide, and your breathing was heavy. You couldn't focus on his words because his body was too close.

He noticed, too, because his insults were slowing down, and you could feel his eyes studying your face as it was turned away from him. When your gaze met him, the room became still. You were frozen in place, unable to move. He just... stared at you.

Neither of you said a word, but there was something in his eyes that changed the atmosphere of the room. It was like a flip had been switched. He was no longer angry or irritated. His eyes were gentle, and his gaze was intense. You had seen his gaze before, but you couldn't figure out why it felt so different.

Until you saw the flicker of his eyes. A millisecond change that anyone could've missed, but you didn't. You caught it as you caught the next one. You felt him move forward, and your mind went blank. Your senses were overrun by him. You could feel the heat from his skin.

He could probably hear your heartbeat; it wasn't very subtle. Your mind was racing, and your vision was hazy. All you could see was... him. And maybe you were just imagining it, but there was something in his eyes that showed you he wasn't mad anymore.

He looked different now, and it scared you. It scared you how you started counting his eyelashes. It scared you how much you wanted to reach up and run your hand through his hair. It scared you how badly you wanted to know how soft his lips were.

And he could tell because he leaned closer. Closer than you didn't think possible. Your breaths mingled together, and your noses brushed. He wasn't there yet, though. His mouth was just barely touching yours, and the feeling sent tingles down your spine.

His gaze was intense, and he looked like he was holding back. You could feel his chest pressing against yours, and he was taking shaky breaths. It was so strange, seeing him like this. Your eyes locked onto his, and you were sure he saw the curiosity behind them.

And then... his gaze fell into a look you've never seen before. Something was swimming behind those crimson eyes, and you found yourself drowning in the intensity. He was staring into your soul, and somehow, you could see the meaning in his eyes.

He was giving you a choice. He was asking a silent question. His eyes were pleading. They were begging. His face was so close to yours, and you were frozen. The way he was looking at you, you could see it. You could see what he was thinking.

He was waiting for you to do something. To push him away, to smack him, or to speak out. He was waiting for the rejection, the denial, the refusal. But you did none of those things because, for some reason, you didn't want to. You were enjoying the closeness, the intimacy, the... vulnerability.

Maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe you were just insane, but the way he was looking at you made your stomach flip, and a strange warmth filled your chest. It was the way he was holding himself back, the way you could see his fingers trembling, the way his breath was unsteady.

For some reason, seeing him so weak, so open, so defenseless made you feel... something.

He was waiting for a response. It was up to you. You were the one in control, and if you had said the word, he would have walked away. But that's not what you wanted.

You didn't want him to go.

And, so, you had tried to speak out, but the words were caught in your throat. They wouldn't form, and the air was thick. Your tongue was tied, and your fingers were shaking. You were afraid. Afraid of the unknown.

He was patient. His gaze never faltered. His eyes were still looking at you with the same intensity, and you were getting lost in it. He didn't move closer, but his breath fanned across your lips. Your mind was blank, and you had no idea how long the two of you stood like that.

All you knew was that you needed him to do something. You needed him to know he was allowed to, but you couldn't bring yourself to speak. You were terrified, and the anticipation was driving you insane.

So, you used another way to answer.

You grabbed him, jerked his body forward, and pulled him as close as you could. He wasn't prepared for your sudden movement, and the air was forced out of his lungs. His hands found the wall, and his arms caged you in. You could feel his muscles flexing against you, and his eyes widened as they looked at you.

He didn't expect it. He wasn't prepared. It was a shock, but he wasn't about to deny himself the opportunity. Not when you were offering it to him. So, his eyes fell back into that look, and his head moved closer. He hesitated, and his lips grazed yours. You could feel the way his heart was beating.

The first kiss was chaste and barely there. You could've missed it, and you might've imagined it. But then he did it again, this time with enough pressure to make you aware. To make your eyes fall shut and a small sigh escapes your lips.

The next one was a little deeper, and he lingered a bit longer. His movements were slow, and he was giving you plenty of time to push him away, but you didn't. You couldn't. Because the moment his lips met yours, you lost all self-control.

Your body melted against his, and you found yourself falling into the kiss. You were sure you'd end up a pile of mush on the ground if his hands hadn't shifted to your hips, holding you up. The grip he had on your sides was gentle but firm, and the tips of his fingers were digging into the flesh of your hip bones.

Your hands had found their way into his hair, and your fingers tangled themselves in the blonde locks. You were always curious about his hair in that regard, and you were pleased to find it softer than you'd expected. With its jagged spikes, you'd expected it to be sharp and stiff, but it was just as smooth as silk. You really needed to get a hold of his hair products.

But you didn't have time to dwell on the subject because his mouth was moving against yours, and your entire being was focused on the feeling of his lips. Damn, he knew exactly how to use them.

You were already lightheaded, and he barely did anything. It was only a matter of time before you couldn't even think anymore. All you knew was his scent, his taste, his touch, and his breath. He was overwhelming all of your senses, and you could feel your mind shutting down.

But, before you could, you gathered enough sense to do something that caught him completely off guard. When he pulled you even deeper, your teeth grazed his bottom lip, and your hands tightened in his hair. He froze for a second, his movements stopping completely, and you were terrified that you'd crossed a line.

However, that fear was quickly erased because he let out the most guttural sound you'd ever heard. It was low and deep and... fuck. It sounded like a growl, but it was filled with need. It was hungry and rough and sent a jolt straight down to your core.

A moment later, he was kissing you harder than before. He was practically attacking you, and you were glad he still had ahold of your hips because those legs of yours would have given out long ago. His mouth was moving so fast that it was hard for you to keep up, and your lungs were burning.

It felt like a dam had been broken.

He devoured you like a starved man. There was no hesitation, no fear, no nervousness. It was pure desperation, and you weren't doing much better. His kisses were hard and bruising, and his grip on your waist was tight.

When he went to your neck, that was it.

Your head fell back against the wall, painful, but you couldn't care. You couldn't focus on anything except the way his mouth was working its magic on your throat. Your nails were digging into his scalp, and you could hear his sharp breaths.

If all kisses were like this, then you have no idea how people survived without them. It was addicting. The feeling of his lips and tongue and teeth against your skin was euphoric. Your mind was swimming, and your heart was pounding.

Mina was squealing in front of you, but you were too lost to care. You were back in the moment, and the memory was flooding through your body. The feeling of his fingers gripping your hips. The warmth of his mouth. The heat of his body. His hair was so soft. The sound of his breath. His lips. His tongue.

"I... don't remember much after that," you told Mina, your eyes unfocused. "The next thing I remember is me leaving the room and going straight to yours."

She was grinning at you. It was a wide, Cheshire-like smile, and her eyes were gleaming. She looked like she was about to explode, and she was holding herself back.

"This is insane," she said, her voice cracking. "Actually, I take back what I said earlier. This is better than the best day of my life. The fact that it was him—I mean, I'd expect this from someone else, but the thought of him being that good is... wow."

You sighed. "Mina, please. What am I going to do? I'm... I'm..."

"Lost in the clouds?" she offered. "A mess? Unable to function like a normal person?"

"All of the above," you said, running your hands over your face. "I just... I don't understand how someone could make me feel like this. He's a dick, Mina. He was literally insulting me just a few minutes ago, and then... this."

She hummed, tilting her head and looking at the ceiling. Her smile never left her face. "So, what now? Are you guys dating, or...?"

"I didn't ask," you told her. "I just ran out."

"Wait, I thought you meant running away, as in after talking it out and stuff?"

"I mean, running away, as in pushing him and sprinting down the hall to your room."

Her eyes widened. "What?!" she exclaimed. "You're telling me that after he gave you the best kiss of your life, you ran away?!"

You nodded.

"Are you insane?!"

"Maybe a little," you said. "But I was so overwhelmed, and it was too much. I couldn't stay there, or I'd have done something embarrassing."

"You mean something more embarrassing than leaving? Girl, you need to get back there and find out what the hell is going on between you two. I can't believe this. I just..." She let out a frustrated groan. "He's probably pissed off. And confused. And, honestly, I can't blame him."

"What? You think he's regretting it?"

"Oh, honey," she said, her expression changing. "You've got it all wrong. How do I know more than you about this situation? That boy doesn't show anyone this kind of side, I mean... shit, and you're telling me he was the one to initiate it?"

You nodded. "Yeah, he was."

"Well, then... damn. You're special. If he didn't want it, he would have punched you or something, but the fact that he went and did that... then there's no way he would ever regret it. Hell, if I were in his position, I'd have taken you right there, too."

"Mina!" you shrieked, smacking her shoulder.

She laughed. "What? I'm your bestie. I gotta have your back. Now, listen, you've done messed up by running away. There's no way he wouldn't take it as an insult; his ego's too big. So, what you need to do is get back there and tell him what's going on. Be honest. Don't lie, and don't sugarcoat. Just tell him the truth."

"But--"

"No, no buts. No ifs, no ands, or anything. Bakugo is the type to appreciate honesty. You can't be wishy-washy with him. I've learned that after seeing him treat everyone. He doesn't hold back, and neither should you. The good thing is that you know he really likes you; otherwise, none of this would've happened."

You bit your lip.

"Even as sudden as it was, it was a choice," she told you. "He knew exactly what he was doing. That kiss wasn't some spur-of-the-moment thing. He knew what he was doing and what he was feeling, and there's no way he would have done it if he didn't want to."

You thought about her words. "You're right."

"Damn right I am," she said, leaning forward and grabbing your shoulders. "He doesn't regret it. At least, not in the way you're thinking. If he's regretting anything, it's letting you run away without saying anything. So, what you're going to do is march back there and kiss that boy senseless. Got it?"

"But it's almost two in the morning," you said.

"If you think you both are sleeping anytime soon, you're delusional," she stated. "The guy is probably pacing in his own room right now, trying to figure out why the hell you rejected him. He's a wreck, and I'll bet you anything that his thoughts are just as bad as yours."

You frowned. "I guess, but..."

"But what?"

"It's just... he's Bakugo, and I'm... well, me. There's no way this could ever work out. He's too focused on being the best to date anyone, and I'm not the kind of person he'd go for. We're complete opposites. We fight all the time, and he's always yelling at me over something. Even now, I'm still wondering what the hell he was thinking when he kissed me."

"You need to stop doing that," Mina said, her tone firm. "You can't think like that. I told you he wouldn't have done it if he didn't see anything. Sure, you guys don't get along all the time, but that doesn't mean it's a lost cause. The fact that he's showing interest in you is enough to prove that he's attracted to something."

"Okay, fine, but what is it? What does he see in me? Why did he choose me? Why did he—"

"Girl, shut up. I can't handle any more of your doubts. This is a waste of time, and it's just making your brain more and more confused. Stop. Thinking. Go get him and just talk. I swear, you're gonna give yourself an aneurysm if you keep this up."

"Fine," you relented, throwing your hands up. "I'll—"

Then, there was a knock on the door.

You paused, staring at Mina. She stared back, her eyebrows furrowing. The two of you were quiet, not moving, not breathing. Then, another knock came, this time a bit louder.

"Iida?" you asked, your voice quiet. "We were pretty loud, weren't we?"

"Probably," Mina replied. "I hate that guy sometimes. What the hell does he have against us having fun? It's not like we were causing trouble."

"He's just being a good student," you said. "We should probably—"

Another knock and this one was harder. And something in the back of your mind was telling you that it wasn't him. It was different.

You and Mina shared a look before she shrugged and got off the bed. She went to the door, and you stayed seated. You were nervous. The tension in your stomach was building up again.

The thought was already in your mind, but it wasn't until Mina's face fell that you knew for sure.

She turned to look at you, her expression unreadable, but the emotion was clear in her eyes. It was the same look you'd given her before when you talked about the kiss.

And, you knew.

He was here.

"Where is she?" His voice held annoyance, but you could detect the change in tone.

"Bakugo," Mina said, trying to cover for you. "Why are you here? Is everything okay?"

"Cut the crap," he said, his voice a growl. "I know she's in there, Raccoon Eyes. Just... I need to talk to her."

You were frozen.

You were afraid.

You didn't know what to say or do.

Your heart was pounding, and your palms were sweating. You couldn't breathe.

"Send her out here," he said. "...Please."

Mina looked back at you. The pure shock in her eyes told you she'd heard him use the word, and you couldn't help but think the same. Bakugo wasn't a person who asked nicely. Ever. But the way he said it made it sound like it pained him.

You both stood there for a few moments. It was a stalemate, and neither of you could speak. Now that he was here, all the confidence Mina had built up was gone, and you were back to square one. You felt helpless.

Then, there was a sigh, not from him, but from her. It was the sound of defeat and the sound of surrender. She turned back to the door, opening it up to reveal those damn eyes of his.

His expression was hard and unreadable. It was blank, and his eyes were cold. They were the same ones you were used to seeing, the ones that held no emotion, the ones that only held anger. But they weren't as harsh as usual. They were softer.

He looked past Mina and saw you on the bed. The moment his gaze locked on yours, you knew you were going out in that hall whether you wanted to or not. His stare was strong, and it was demanding. It was like the world would crumble if you didn't follow his order.

So, you did.

You got off the bed and made your way to him. Your feet were heavy, and your heart was racing. With every step, the pressure got worse. When you were close enough, Mina shoved you towards him and then closed the door.

It was just you and him now.

You didn't know what to say. He was quiet, and the silence was killing you. It was making your head spin. You felt nauseous, and your stomach was in knots. It was too much.

"You..." He spoke, his voice low. "You're the most annoying person I've ever met."

You didn't respond. You couldn't. Your throat was dry, and your tongue was like sandpaper.

"Do you have any idea how frustrating you are?" he asked, his eyes narrowing. "You're such a fucking mess."

Back to this.

"Yeah, I get it," you told him, finding your voice. "I'm a mess. It's been established. But you know what, Bakugo? So are you. You're an asshole."

"Me?" he laughed. "You think I'm the asshole? You're the one who ran away. I didn't do shit."

"You're the one who cornered me," you shot back. "What the hell was that, anyway? Insulting me into a corner, and then—"

The pause of your sentence spoke louder than any words you could have said. It was a statement, an unspoken accusation, and the meaning was clear. It was obvious.

His jaw clenched, and his eyes darkened. "You know, if I had a dollar for every time you pissed me off, I'd be richer than All Might."

"If I had a dollar for every time I had to hear your rants about being the future number-one hero, I'd be able to retire," you retorted. "You're so fucking arrogant."

"Well, at least I know what I'm good at. You made that much clear, didn't you?"

Offended, you stepped closer to him. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

You knew exactly what he meant. It was obvious. He was calling you out, and the fact that he had the nerve to even use those words after the incident in the common room made you see red. So, you might've done something that would get you in house arrest, but it was worth it.

You slapped him. Hard.

He didn't seem fazed, though. In fact, the only thing you did was piss him off even more. His eyes narrowed, and he leaned forward, towering over you. "Are you that much of a dumbass? How the hell did you make it this far in UA with that stupid brain of yours? Do you have any idea how dumb you are?"

"I'm not an idiot," you said through gritted teeth. "I have my strengths, too. I'm not weak."

"Oh, really?" He was mocking you, his voice a challenge. "Then, why did you run away?"

"That's—"

"What? It's not because of weakness? Then, why did you leave?"

You didn't have an answer.

"Exactly," he said. "You're a fucking coward. You ran away from your problems, and that's all you do. That's all you're capable of. You don't know how to deal with situations, and you just run."

"I'm not—"

"You are," he said. "Every damn time. You ran from me. From arguments, from training, from everything. It's all you ever do. And you don't seem to care, do you? You don't care how much it pisses me off. You just do it anyway."

"Bakugo—"

"Tell me, damnit," he interrupted, his eyes flashing. "I... I let you in. I let you see something, and this is what I get? A slap and an escape? How the hell is that fair?"

"I didn't—"

"Yes, you did," he growled. "And it fucking hurt, okay? You don't know how much I..."

The silence was back, and it was more deafening than before. The tension was thick, and the air was heavy. You could feel the heat rising, the pressure building.

You had no idea what to say.

He was right. Mina was right. You had messed up, and you knew it. You knew you had hurt him. The pain was evident in his voice. But it didn't excuse him for being an ass about it.

"Why'd you come here?" you asked. "What did you expect to get out of this? Was it just to yell at me and make me feel bad?"

"No, moron, I came to ask if I fucked up. If I had crossed a line. I know what it looked like, but with your stupid ass, I don't know."

You rolled your eyes, but he made sure to keep them locked on him.

"You pulled me in. You returned it," he said, his voice dropping. "You even deepened the damn thing. What was I supposed to think, huh? You're not telling me anything. You're not giving me anything. If anything, you're taking. So, I'm asking. Stop running away, damnit. Talk to me."

The sincerity of his words struck a chord in your chest. He was right. He was absolutely right. You were running away. You were avoiding him.

You were a coward.

"I'm sorry," you said, your voice soft. "I shouldn't have done that. I... I didn't know what to do, and I was scared."

"What the hell are you scared of?"

"This," you told him. "Of you. Of the kiss. Of... what it meant."

"You're acting like you're the only one involved here," he said, his voice holding an edge. "What about me? Do you have any idea what I'm feeling right now? I'm just as confused and scared as you are, but you know what I'm not doing? Running away."

"I didn't mean to, it's just—"

"You did," he said, interrupting you. "You did, and you knew it. You were running, and you didn't want to deal with the consequences. That's what it was, wasn't it? You didn't want to face the truth. You didn't want to face me. You wanted to run. Like always."

"It's not like that."

"Then, what is it?"

You paused.

"Exactly," he said. "Nothing. You don't have an excuse. You were just being a coward. That's all it is. So, tell me. Tell me why the hell you ran. Tell me what the kiss meant to you. Because if you don't, I'll—"

"It meant everything!" you cried out, only to remember the late hour and quiet down. "It... it meant everything, okay? And I didn't want to lose that. I couldn't. It was... It was everything. It was so much. Too much. I didn't want it to be ruined. I didn't want to ruin what fucked friendship we had."

His expression was unreadable, and it made your stomach sink.

"So, I ran. I didn't know what else to do," you confessed, your voice quiet. "And... I didn't want you to find out the truth. Because if you did, you'd... I'd... Everything would change, and I didn't want that."

"We changed the moment that damn kiss happened," he said, his tone firm. "I'm not blind. You're not subtle, and I can tell that you've had feelings for me. And I think... I've had them for a while now, too. But if you're gonna act like this, if you're just going to run from your problems, then there's no point in doing anything. I can't have a relationship with someone who's just gonna hide and run away. It's not fair to either of us."

"Bakugo..."

"Don't 'Bakugo' me," he growled, his eyes burning. "What are we gonna do about this, huh? Are we gonna keep dancing around each other and pretend it didn't happen? Are we gonna pretend it doesn't exist? Because if we do, I'm not wasting any more time. It's not worth it. I have better things to focus on."

"It's not like that."

"Really? Because it seems like it."

"But—"

"Tell me, damnit. What the hell are we gonna do? What's it gonna be? I can't wait around forever, and I won't waste my time. I don't have the patience for it. If you're not willing to do anything about it, then there's no point in trying. It's just a waste of time. So, decide. Now."

He didn't ease up, and his gaze didn't falter. He was staring straight at you, waiting just as he had said. But you didn't know what to say or do. He was putting the ball in your court, and he wasn't budging. He wasn't backing down.

"Well?" he asked, his voice harsh. "I'm waiting. Make your choice."

"I—"

"It's not that hard," he cut in, his eyes narrowing. "Either we try this, or we don't. So, make a damn choice. If not, I'm walking out, and I won't look back."

You knew the decision was easy. It was obvious. It was obvious, but your mind was spinning. It was hard to concentrate when his hands were on your arms, and his eyes were burning holes into your soul. It was impossible to think.

But, you knew. You knew the answer. You knew what you wanted.

"Do it."

The words left your lips without hesitation, and for a moment, he faltered. His expression changed, and his eyes widened. His grip on your arms loosened, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. He was silent, and his eyes were focused on yours.

"You don't want me to run?" You asked, your voice barely a whisper. "So, make me stay."

The words were simple. They were easy. But they were enough to see the twinkle in his eye. It was enough to see the shift in his demeanor and feel his grip tightening. His body was pressed against yours, and his hands were on your arms. He was leaning forward, his face inches from yours. His breath was hot, and his eyes were dark.

In an instant, you were flung back into the same position you had been in hours ago. His lips were on yours, and the intensity was there, stronger than ever. The kiss was rough and passionate. He was pushing against you, his grip firm. He was in control, and he was demanding.

You kissed him back, and the emotions were overwhelming. They were consuming. His hands met the small of your back, pulling you into him. He was firm, his touch strong and his kiss powerful. It was rough, but it was gentle. It was intense, but it was loving.

The kiss was everything.

The moment his lips left yours, you found yourself wanting more. You couldn't help but pull him back in, kissing him deeper and harder. He met your desire, his movements matching yours. You didn't know how long the kiss lasted, but the moment it broke, you knew.

You knew that this was right. You knew that this was what you wanted. You knew that he was the one.

"Katsuki," you whispered, his name leaving your lips in a breathy sigh. "Katsuki, I..."

"I know," he breathed, his voice husky. "Me, too."

Then, he pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you. He held you tight, his warmth enveloping you.

You knew this feeling now; you understood it. This was the love that Mina had been talking about. This was the emotion she had been describing. This was what it was like.

It was the best damn feeling in the world.

[minswriting]

thinking about post prison spencer coming home tired after a case and just needing to be inside you and fucking you gently:(

nsfw | mdni | spencer reid x reader | tired spencer, cuddly spencer, cuddly and soft sex, they may or may not fall asleep during sex, reference to somnophilia

when spencer came home at two in the morning after a long case, he wanted nothing more than to snuggle up to you and hold you close. he was so tense and all he craved was to be with you. meeting you was the best thing to happen in his life and the fact that you’ve been by his side even throughout his prison sentence made him very grateful towards you.

he kicked off his shoes, putting his satchel on the ground next to the door before walking to the bedroom. he could feel the exhaustion in his eyes and in every movement. when spencer got to the bedroom, he hadn’t expected you to still be awake and yet here you were, sitting up against the headrest, wearing one of his shirts, and reading one of those shitty romance novels that you love so much.

as spencer entered the room, you looked up from your book. his heart swelled with the way your face instantly lit up and a smile graced your lips. you were just so perfect. “you’re home,” you exclaimed, closing your book and placing it on the nightstand.

spencer nodded his head, giving you a tired smile. “i am,” he replied as he began to undress himself. “what are you doing still awake?”

you shrugged your shoulders. “couldn’t sleep,” you said softly. “how was the case?”

“exhausting,” spencer responded, sounding a bit exasperated. he finished undressing himself, standing in his boxers as he crawled into bed. “just want to hold you.”

you hummed, moving to lie down as spencer put an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. you maneuvered yourself so that he was spooning you as you lied on your side, a hand over his arm. spencer buried his face into your neck, pressing smell feather-like kisses along the skin.

“i’ve missed you,” he whispered against your skin, his breath hot.

you sighed in contentment, leaning into spencer’s touch. “i’ve missed you too,” you whispered back. spencer pressed himself against you, his cock pressing against your ass, as he held you closer to him. “are you hard?” you asked teasingly, turning your head towards him.

spencer let out a quiet chuckle. “i can’t help it when i’m with you,” he said as he kept kissing your neck. “you’re just so pretty. and the fact you’re not wearing any underwear isn’t helping.”

and so, that’s how you ended up with spencer’s cock inside of you as he thrusted into you gently. his face was permanently buried in your neck, breathing in your scent while the arm that was wrapped around your waist was now underneath your shirt, massaging your tits.

“so good, so perfect,” spencer whispered against your neck as he moved his hips gently.

you let out the prettiest but softest moan. his cock felt so good inside of you. you adored moments like these when you both just want to be close with one another but cuddling alone just isn’t enough. so what makes it better? cuddly sex. “feels so good,” you whined quietly.

spencer hummed, letting out small pants as he moved his hips. the pace was slow, unhurried. it didn’t matter if either of you came because at the end of the day, it was about being close to you. “always so wet for me,” he breathed out. “aren’t you?”

“mhm,” you nodded your head, letting out a shaky breath as spencer thumbed your nipple, sending sparks all over you and making you moan.

the both of you were already so exhausted from the day, spencer more so than you. so it came of no surprise when you both ended up falling asleep in the middle of having sex, spencer’s cock still buried deep inside of you.

in the morning, when spencer woke up to your cunt still wrapped tightly around his cock, he couldn’t help but wake you up by gently fucking you again, this time with more purpose than to just be close to you. and you? well, waking up to spencer using your cunt was definitely one of your favorite ways to wake up.

[missbunnybunny]

『𝕬𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖞 𝖜𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖗𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖘.』

𝕿𝖜: somno, yandere, stalking, breaking and entering, fem-reader,non-con, manhandling, dubcon, overstim, Pervert!choso.«🛑𝙼𝙳𝙽𝙸🛑» I think that's all.

NOTE: I don't know what I wrote. Not edited. Let me know if I missed anything.

You're desperate for a roommate. Entering your first year of college, you decided to find an off-campus apartment.

Thus, the reason why you're so desperate, you can't pay the bills yourself!

A friend recommended posting an advertisement online. So you did just that, asking for a roommate close your age.

Choso answered your ad, and after some questions, you decided that he was perfect. He was majoring in forensic.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: Who convinced you to get cameras for the apartment. " It's to make sure nothing happens. I wouldn't twant you getting hurt." He assured you.

But he doesn't tell you that he set up a few small ones in your room. He didn't want a random man with you in there.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: who has a collection of videos of you changing. His favorites are when you try and fail to muffle your moans when you pleasure yourself.

He strokes his length at the same pace your fingers pound your hole. Whimpering your name with a fucked out face.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: Gets brave and enters your room when you're deep a sleep. Removing the covers and taking pictures of your figure.

Your sleeping choices are an oversized t-shit and shorts. The shirt scrunched up, making you look delicious.

Fuch his getting hard just thinking about it.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: Who for nights on end just takes pictures of your clothed figure. Until it's not enough, he lifts your shirt and moans softly when he sees your perked up nipples.

Taking pictures of his hands squeezing your soft mount, his cock in between them. An electric pleasures shot throughout his body, at the feeling.

He takes pictures of his mouth around your cute lil nipples.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: Who slides your shorts just enough to see your clothed flower. He runs his finger against your slit, feeling a sticky pool form.

Who can't take it and uncovers your cunt, taking up close pictures. Some spreading your folds, some with his tip kissing your entrance.

He takes videos of how he ate you out like you were a 5 star meal.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: Who takes a video of his length rubbing against your fold, your honey coating his member as his hips buckle.

"Y/n-Ah- s-so good." He mumbles in a trance. His self-control slipped with every movement.

He knows it's wrong. But you feel so good to stop.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: Who takes his length and slowly begins to slit you open, sleepy moan and whimpers left your lips. Choso records the action, a perfect view of where you both connect.

He slowly fucks you, until he feels your walls flutter and constrict around him. He had to bite his shirt to stop himself from waking you up.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: Who has you coming on his cock, he want to desperately cum inside you but he pulls out before he spills his seed on your stomach.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: who cleans you and puts your clothes back. He exists your room, and he turned to his so he could masterbate to the video over again.

God, your face was so devine, drooling, and with your back arched. He wished he could fuck you silly, and have you past out around his length.

He secretly made your pleasured filled face his wallpaper.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: Who pretends he didn't fuck your sleeping body and carries on like normal. He continues to fuck you in your sleep, he feels a sense of pride when you complain about being soar the next morning.

You were doing homework in your room when your computer died. "Choso, can I use your computer?" You asked as you exited your room.

Choso called out in the affirmative from the living room. Entering choso's room, you quickly found his computer.

It was a large desktop with two screens. Signing into your Google docs, you continued your writing.

While typing your hand accidentally moved the mouse, opening a tab. Quickly going on to close it, not wanting to invade choso's privacy.

You froze, staring back at you was a video. One that had a setting that looked like your room, with shaking hand, you pressed play.

It was a view of someone entering your room before your sleeping figure came into view. You watched as choso began to touch your body.

The door to choso's room opened, and in walked the man himself.

Choso looked froze in his spot while you looked at him horrified. The video plays in the background.

Everything becomes a blur. Your body springs out of the chair. As choso moves closer to you, you make a room for the door.

But he catches you. His hand covers your mouth, and the other holds your waist, intrapping your arm.

Choso threw you both onto the bed, your body displayed on top of his. He kept you caged so you couldn’t run from him.

" shh, shh. It's okay, you know I wouldn't hurt you."He whispers seductively into your ear.

You try and struggle your way out of his grip, tears treating to fall. Your ass rubbed against his crotch and onto his growing bulge.

His hips thrust involuntary, in search of any pressure he could get. He whimpers in your ear, making you flush.

His hand that was wrapped around your waist slipped to your shorts. He tugged them down, gaining a startled yelp from you.

His fingers danced over your slit before plunging into your gummy walls. His pace was rough, making your back arch and muffle moans.

He can feel as your greedy hole clamps on his fingers. His palm rubs over your peal. It was over stimulating, and your eyes began to cross.

Your mind is going blank, stars behind your eyes. So much was happening at once, choso was finger fucking you while he humpped you like he was a dog in heat.

Trying to seek any pleasure he could from you.

He whispered, moaning your name, calling his good girl. The coil in your tummy snapped, and you twitched and convolced around his fingers.

Choso freed his hard on. Without warning, his tip began to kiss your entrance before he thrusted into you.

Your body twitched forwards, trying to escape the stimution, but choso's hand over your mouth was firm. Keeping you in place.

Your moans were like angelic calls to him, begging him to continue.

His shaft assaulted your G spot as he plunged roughly into your warmth. His hand snaked around your waist again, giving him a stable hold.

The new grip made it easier for him to abuse your womb. With every thrust, his length and girth made you stuffed.

His movements became uncoordinated as he reached his high. Your tummy tightened as the coil started to tighten.

Your mind was becoming mush, too cock drunk to think right. Choso rubbed your clit before giving it a pull.

The action broke you, pleasure electrocuted your brain, snapping your coil, and you came undone top of choso.

Choso removed his hand from your mouth, gripping your waist tightly as he pounded into you before stuttering and painting your warn walls white.

Unfiltered moans and whines left your over pleasuered body. Choso turned your face towards him and kissed you.

It was a hungry kiss, and he pumped more of his warm seed into you. Giving you a few more thrusts to make sure you didn't spill a single drop.

"Ah-G-good girl. So good f-for me." He says out of breath, almost slured before he pulled out.

His seed and your honey mixed into a puddle into the sheets. By now, you had passed out.

"Next time, let's do a sex tape." He chuckles at your sleeping face.

[inmaki]

as an apology for my constant disappearing here is a preview for my virgin nanami fic, hopefully done by the end of this month <3

hurt (comfort in full fic), making out, nanami being dumb

nanami kento was an orderly man.

not a single strand of his golden hair ever strayed from its place. his tie was never too far to the right or the left — only smack dab in the middle against his built chest.

his crisp, navy shirt didn't dare have a wrinkle on it, much like his allen edmond shoes that were free from any creases despite being worn every day for years.

it made you want to ruin him. ruin such perfection in all his towering glory.

and you did - at least, at much as nanami would let you.

intense makeout sessions happened every so often: during impromptu movie nights on the couch, in the morning under the warmth of your shared blankets, and especially after extra-hard days at work.

yet it never went further, no matter how hard you tried to initiate anything — whether it be a hand sliding down too low, or a soft moan into his mouth, nanami would be fumbling up an excuse to leave immediately. just like now.

"mmph.. 'missed you," you mumble against his swollen lips, sucking the bottom one greedily. the man had only just walked into the kitchen when you'd practically pounced on him in hunger.

despite his surprise, kento gives you the privilege of running your nails through his once-perfectly-slicked-back hair, grunting as you yank him even closer with his tie, loosening it in the process.

"missed you too, honey." even the simplicity of his giant hands caressing your waist sends a rush of arousal through your body, humming as you rub a hand down the solid ridges of his abs. he tasted like the coffee he'd probably been sipping languidly throughout the day, mixed in with the natural flavor of him.

memories of the sorcerer slipping in and out of the shower shirtless — toned torso on display and all — were some of the hardest in your book. occasionally, you would joke to him about dropping your panties then and there. you never actually dropped them (that could easily change if he so asked), but you were pretty much hanging on to them for dear life every afternoon.

and in response to your compliment, nanami would only chuckle nervously before shutting the door behind him to change in the closet. an ugly feeling would blossom in your chest every time at his lack of enthusiam or reciprocation to your desire, though you never let the thought spiral.

a few minutes later, your lips remained glued to his, passionately making out against the counter while continuing your adventure around his body, never straying below his belt.

nanami felt dizzy as he finally pushed away to take a breath. usually he was quite good at keeping up with your ineffable needs — he placed the blame on his depletion from work.

a groan involuntarily escapes him as you lower your lips to suck beneath his jawline, bound to leave a mark. "my love, what's got you so worked up?" he inquires with closed eyes, tilting his head up to give you further access.

you hum in approval of the action, sucking even harder. "told you, i missed you."

before you could stop to think, your hand that was once on his abs instinctively moved lower to rest just above his bulge, and then everything stopped.

with a shaky clear of his throat, nanami pushes off the counter, forcing you to back away while his hands drop to his beige dress pants.

your brows furrow. "what-"

"i'm gonna take a shower." his eyes avert, adam’s apple bobbing smoothly.

not another word follows as your boyfriend paces to the apartment's shared bedroom, leaving you to drown in your cynical thoughts.

if u wanna be tagged comment/send an ask! srry this is short but the full fic is much longer!!! i am like 3/4 done! i js procrastinate writing the smut (also the reason part 2 of my gojo fic is taking forever) T-T

read virgin gojo while u wait <3

[starseungs]

to love you like the snow melts. ksm.

kim seungmin x gn!reader — if seungmin wanted to be loved like a planet being discovered, he wanted to love you like the snow melted during the cusp of spring.

GENRE/S — fluff, maybe kinda emotional (or is that just me), slight college au mentioned in passing, he fell first trope • 1.1k words

WARNING/S — nothing really unless you're not into lovesick pining, story told in seungmin's pov, slightly unedited cz idk

( ✒️ ) happy seungmin day !! i think i dissociated while writing this fic cause man... i barely remember shit 😭 i originally had a plan going into writing this but it just got thrown out the window by my brain apparently (also this fic is inspired by one of the results in this quiz cause i loved the prompt i got so much) this fic is a bit short but i hope yall like it <3

2024 ⓒ starseungs on tumblr. do not steal, repost, or edit.

Seungmin’s eyes love to rest on you. 

That was an undoubtable fact in his life—one that he, himself, doesn’t even know how it started. Yet, the acknowledgement of this unknown didn’t bother him at all. If anything, it was a source of comfort for him; a way of reminding himself of the joy in living. To Seungmin, one thing was for certain: He was given the gift of sight to experience you in your entire beauty.

He first met you in a university lecture, where you simply happened to frequent the seat just a row behind and two chairs away from where he usually sat. Perhaps he was enamored from the very beginning. It was like his gaze would always find a way back to you whenever you were in his immediate vicinity, reminiscent of a magnet longing to cling to metal.

That was also the way he took in your presence as a whole. Seungmin was a man starved for knowledge, desperately clawing for anything he could get to broaden his desired expertise that was you. He particularly loved the way your eyes drooped whenever the lecture of the day bore you, as well as your tendency to make origami on available paper during the times you could care less to listen. The latter always ended up with you blinking endearingly after a successful craft, glancing around the people near you to figure out who to present it to.

Oh, how he wished he had been over there instead, happily receiving a paper star to keep. However, it was your friends that surrounded you on a daily, barely giving you time to be alone. And maybe you didn’t want to be alone—another thing about you that he’d like to discover the truth to. But he thought that until the day he somehow found himself stumbling into your life, he’d have to be grateful to your friends for making you shine the way you deserved every step of the way.

So, imagine his surprise when he finally got the chance to make a mark in the vast expanse of your world.

The opportunity came in the form of a group project with you; the catalyst in which his whole life began to change. Friendly introductions of obligation quickly turned into incessant strings of conversation, bringing the two of you closer. The sheer pace of the development was overwhelming. Seungmin never thought his presence bore enough weight for gravity to grab him by the neck and lock him in the system of the star that was you. 

It was a trip and a half, consisting of countless miles to lap around with seemingly no end. So much, that he feared falling out of your grace—to be like a passing asteroid who foolishly dreamt of becoming a planet. Seungmin was endlessly yearning to solidify his place in your world, just like he always wanted. And still, despite that all, he didn’t show it. He merely laughed when you laughed, stayed silent when you needed silence, and experienced anger on your behalf when you couldn’t show it for yourself. 

Because Kim Seungmin knew that you needed to be loved patiently.

Even throughout the tightrope of uncertainty he walked months on like his life depended on it, he never once made it seem like he was waiting on a move from you. If Seungmin wanted to be loved like a planet being discovered, he wanted to love you like the snow melted during the cusp of spring. 

Seungmin knew that even with the shows of your cheery demeanor, your heart still remained frosted over from your previous winters. That even when your fingers danced their way to intertwine with his, there was still that moment of hesitation. He was forever thankful that you caught him from falling when he did, refusing to let him disappear into the abyss. Yet, who was lighting up the skies of which you lay under to stare at each day?

He longed to give you a love that was true. One where he showed you how warmth creeped in with small trickles of heat, giving you enough time to decide whether you truly wanted it or not. Love that was considerate in the way that it willingly warned you of its presence, but in a way that cupped your cheeks and sang you lullabies. To love you gently as to not sully your shoes with messy, muddy soil of the ground peeking out from beneath the snow. 

To Seungmin, there was no greater gift than being able to be the sign of your spring.

“Baby?” You called out to him softly, a flash of concern twinkling behind your gaze. “Is anything wrong?”

Seungmin feels like he was just coaxed out of a trance, previously being too occupied studying the details of you at the moment, as if he hadn’t already spent the past hour doing just that. A string of golden celebration banners made its presence known in the corner of his eye, briefly acknowledging the once-a-year greeting printed on them. The slight smell of smoke fully brought him back to his senses, finally glancing down towards the cake with a small lit-up candle you were presenting him.

Right. It was his birthday today.

He chuckles, shaking his head. “No,” he replies truthfully. “Everything is perfect.” Your eyebrows scrunched in confusion, having trouble making sense of the situation. Seungmin has half a mind to think if you would forgive him if he tried to straighten it out with his thumbs as a tease.

“But, you’re not blowing out your candles,” you purse your lips in contemplation. He feels an unstoppable force creeping up to turn the corners of his mouth upwards. Did you even know just how much he loves you?

“I was just enjoying the view, that’s all.”

Your demeanor visibly brightens up. “Is the cake that pretty?” Was your smug question, clearly feeling proud of yourself. “I worked hard on that, you know?” 

Seungmin only smiles. Like he always does whenever it concerns you. That warm boyish grin he had paired with a certain fond look in his eyes that his friends never failed to point out just to fluster him into oblivion. But he lets them anyway. There was no way he could ever deny the truth of how strongly he felt for you.

“I know.” 

Because he always does. 

And as he leaned forward to feel the last heat of the flickering candle before it went out, he couldn’t help but think that the snow had finally melted. His wish had already come true.

“Happy birthday, Seungmin!”

Spring has come.

MASTERTAG ━ STATUS: OPEN — ASK OR COMMENT 🫶

@fairyki @hysgf @euncsace @comet-falls @starlostseungmin @ameliesaysshoo @hyunverse @wnbnny @xocandyy @minluvly @moon0fthenight @estellaluna @hanjsquokka @starlostastronaut @minsueng @l3visbby @myjisung @thecutiepieme @yaniiiiism

[222strawberries]

WHAT A WEIGHT PLATEAU REALLY IS

a weight plateau happens due to metabolic adaptation; where you have been in a calorie deficit or doing extreme diets for months without breaks and your weight isn't going anywhere. this is your body's way of protecting you or conserving energy.

a weight plateau is not rare and can happen at any time, especially once your body adapts to a certain intake. but, if you are truly in a calorie deficit, you will lose fat even if the scale shows that you're maintaining your weight.

metabolic adaptation is only a temporary response, if you follow the things down below, you'll most likely see a change and your metabolism will start to improve (with time) !!!

some things you should check if you suspect you might've hit a plateau:

✿ your water intake ❀ some people confuse a weight plateau with water retention. it is EXTREMELY important to note that water retention CAN cause the scale to maintain and can cause you to look "bulky" or "fat". make sure you're staying hydrated and drinking at least 2-4 bottles of water daily !!! i promise there will be a major difference.

✿ start tracking your calories for a few days (if you haven't been doing that already) ❀ this one is obvious. but sometimes we're prone to underestimating our meals or forgetting things we've eaten throughout the day. sometimes it's just out of plain embarrassment, where we're too ashamed to write it down. but it is super important to document everything you've eaten, especially if it's to see if you're truly in a plateau or if it's just miscalculations. if you're not into calorie counting, then portion control can be a good alternative.

✿ start exercising ❀ it doesn't have to be anything extreme, just moving your body might help. it doesn't matter if you get 4k steps or do a 10 minute video, all movement is good movement and might help break your plateau.

✿ while on the topic of exercise, make sure the exercises that you're doing aren't causing muscle gain. ❀ i have pcos and it doesn't help that due to my genetics, i tend to build muscle extremely easily as well. when i do exercises like cycling or leg pilates or any exercise in general that engages one point of muscles too much, they start to appear bulky after a few days and the scale ends up maintaining or going up. i've learned that just walking at a moderate pace is what works best for me and ever since i stopped cycling, the scale started dropping and i've gotten skinnier. with that being said, find out if your exercises are the reason for the scale maintaining, pay close attention to measurements and/or before and after photos, and check for symptoms of pcos if you suspect you have it!

✿ if none of these are the culprit, then it's definitely time for a metabolism/refeed day (or week... or month) ❀ eat somewhere close to your maintenance (TDEE) for a few days and then after some time you can start restricting again… that way your weight on the scale will start dropping.

❀ if you want to avoid these plateaus in the future, it's important to implement at least 1 or 2 metabolism days a week AND follow everything that i mentioned before !!

❀ it should be noted that you do not have to have metabolism days, sometimes they work and sometimes they don't. it honestly just depends on the person. like for me, i've stayed around the same calorie intake since december 2024. i was steadily losing weight until one day the scale kept maintaining in february 2025 despite doing my workouts and being in my deficit. it was only until i started upping my water intake is when the scale started dropping again. i barely had to do any refeed days. however, this isn't guaranteed to work for another person. it all just depends on how your body reacts so do whatever works best for your body ♡

[youngsadlesbian]

CHASING DESTINY — wanda maximoff.

pairing: wanda maximoff x reader

summary: billy and tommy want to know your story with wanda, and you navigate through memories from years ago as you share every little detail possible and allowed with them.

a/n: i’m obsessed with cliché stories where wanda tries to win over the reader, and in the end, they end up together with a beautiful family. i’m an incurable romantic, sorry!!!! hope you like it <3

word count: 2,8k

warnings: none, just fluff.

You were sitting in the living room, flipping through a magazine while Billy and Tommy played with their toys on the floor. The sound of their laughter filled the room, bringing a smile to your face. Wanda was in the kitchen, preparing a snack for the boys, and you could hear her humming a tune softly as she worked. It was a quiet, peaceful afternoon, the kind you cherished most.

Billy and Tommy, with their curious minds always working, suddenly looked up at you with identical expressions of mischief and curiosity. "Mommy, how did you and Mama meet?" Billy asked, his voice full of innocent curiosity.

Tommy, always quick to follow his brother's lead, added, "Yeah, tell us the story! We want to know everything!"

You chuckled, setting the magazine aside and looking over at Wanda, who had just walked into the room with a tray of snacks. She caught your gaze, a knowing smile tugging at her lips as she handed the boys their snacks.

"That's a long story," you said, a playful tone in your voice as you reached out to ruffle Tommy's hair. "Are you sure you want to hear all the details?"

"Yes!" they both exclaimed in unison, their eyes wide with excitement.

Wanda took a seat beside you on the couch, her hand finding yours as she gave it a gentle squeeze. "I think it's time they know, don’t you?" she said softly, her eyes twinkling with affection.

You smiled, nodding as you turned your attention back to the boys. "Alright, it all started back in high school…"

The halls of Westview High were buzzing with life, students chatting and laughing as they moved from class to class. You were walking with your best friend, Natasha Romanoff, discussing your plans for the weekend when a familiar voice called out from behind you.

"Hey, gorgeous!"

You groaned internally, recognizing the voice immediately. Wanda Maximoff, the school's star cheerleader and resident flirt, was striding toward you with that confident smirk you had come to associate with trouble.

"Here we go again," you muttered under your breath, rolling your eyes as you quickened your pace.

Natasha, always the amused observer, chuckled beside you. "She’s really got it bad for you, huh?"

You shot her a glare, but it was half-hearted. "I don’t get it. She could have anyone she wants, and yet she’s obsessed with making my life a nightmare."

Natasha shrugged, her grin widening. "Maybe she just likes the challenge."

Before you could respond, Wanda had caught up to you, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Why are you running away from me, Y/N? You know I’m not that scary."

You gave her a deadpan look. "Maybe if you stopped trying to flirt with me every five seconds, I wouldn’t have to."

Wanda laughed, clearly not deterred by your cold response. "But where’s the fun in that? Come on, Y/N, just give me one date. I promise it’ll be worth it."

You shook your head, refusing to give in. "Never happening, Maximoff."

Wanda pouted playfully, but there was a determination in her eyes that told you she wasn’t going to give up anytime soon. "We’ll see about that."

As she walked away, her confident stride making it clear she had something up her sleeve, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of exasperation and… something else. Something you weren’t quite ready to admit to yourself yet.

The next few weeks were an exercise in endurance. Wanda had enlisted the help of her friends, who began passing you little notes throughout the day. Each note was filled with cheesy pick-up lines, romantic quotes, and the occasional heartfelt compliment.

At first, you were annoyed. You tried ignoring the notes, tossing them into the trash without reading them. But they kept coming, and eventually, curiosity got the better of you.

One day, after receiving yet another note, you decided to actually read it.

You’re the only person I can’t stop thinking about. Please give me a chance to show you how much you mean to me.

You stared at the note, feeling a strange flutter in your chest. It was different from the others—less playful and more sincere. For the first time, you wondered if maybe, just maybe, Wanda was being genuine.But you weren’t ready to let your guard down just yet. You crumpled the note and stuffed it into your pocket, determined not to let her get under your skin.

Natasha, of course, had other ideas.

"Come on, Y/N," she said one afternoon as you both sat in the cafeteria. "Wanda’s clearly serious about this. Why not just give her a chance?"

You shook your head, stubborn as ever. "I don’t know, Nat. She’s always been such a flirt. How do I know she’s not just playing some game?"

Natasha gave you a pointed look. "You won’t know unless you give her a chance. What’s the worst that could happen?"

You hesitated, chewing on your bottom lip as you considered her words. Finally, with a sigh, you relented. "Fine. One date. But only because you’re practically forcing me."

Natasha grinned, giving you a playful nudge. "You won’t regret it."

Wanda had been ecstatic when you finally agreed to go on a date with her. She went all out, planning a perfect evening that included dinner at a cozy little restaurant and a walk along the beach.

To your surprise, the date was… nice. Wanda was charming, funny, and attentive. There were no cheesy pick-up lines or over-the-top gestures, just genuine conversation and laughter. She was nothing like the girl who had been relentlessly flirting with you for weeks.

As the evening wore on, you found yourself relaxing, your initial reservations slowly melting away. You even started to enjoy yourself, and by the time the date ended, you were seeing Wanda in a completely different light.

"Thank you for tonight," you said as you both stood outside your house. "I had a really good time."

Wanda smiled, and it was a soft, sincere smile that made your heart flutter. "I’m glad. I meant what I said in those notes, you know. You’re really special to me."

You blushed, ducking your head to hide your smile. "I… I think you might be special to me too."

Wanda’s eyes lit up, and she took a step closer, her voice barely above a whisper. "Does that mean I get a second date?"

You looked up at her, your heart pounding in your chest. "Yeah… I think it does."

By the time Valentine’s Day rolled around, you and Wanda had been seeing each other for a few months. You weren’t officially a couple yet, but you had grown closer with each passing day.

On the morning of Valentine’s Day, you found a single red rose on your locker, along with a note that read.

Meet me at the bleachers after school.

You knew it was from Wanda, and as much as you tried to play it cool, you couldn’t help the excitement that bubbled up inside you.

When you arrived at the bleachers after school, you found Wanda waiting for you, a nervous but hopeful look on her face.

"Hey," you greeted her, your voice soft as you approached.

"Hey," she replied, her hands fidgeting slightly as she held a small box in her hands. "I got you something."

You raised an eyebrow, curious. "What is it?"

Wanda handed you the box, her eyes searching yours for a reaction. "Open it and see."

You carefully opened the box, revealing a delicate silver necklace with a small heart-shaped pendant. Inside the heart was a tiny engraving of your initials intertwined with Wanda’s.

Your breath caught in your throat as you looked up at her, your heart swelling with emotion. "Wanda, it’s beautiful…"

Wanda took a deep breath, her voice trembling slightly as she spoke. "I’ve been wanting to ask you this for a while now, but I was waiting for the right moment. And I think this is it…"

She reached out, gently taking your hands in hers. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

The sincerity in her eyes, the way she was looking at you with so much hope and love—it was all too much. You felt tears prickling at the corners of your eyes as you nodded, unable to find the words.

"Yes," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "Yes, I’ll be your girlfriend."

Wanda’s face lit up with the brightest smile you’d ever seen, and she pulled you into a tight hug, holding you close as if she never wanted to let go.

"I promise I’ll make you happy," she whispered into your ear, her voice full of love and determination.

And from that day on, you were inseparable.

Years passed, and your relationship with Wanda only grew stronger. You both went off to college together, supporting each other through the highs and lows, celebrating each other’s successes, and comforting each other during the tough times.

On the day of your college graduation, Wanda had something special planned.

After the ceremony, she took you to a quiet spot on campus where the two of you had spent countless hours studying, talking, and simply being together.

As the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange, Wanda turned to you, her expression serious but full of love.Wanda's voice was soft, filled with emotion as she spoke. "Y/N, these past few years with you have been the best of my life. We've grown so much together, and I can't imagine my future without you in it."

You felt your heart skip a beat as Wanda reached into her pocket, pulling out a small velvet box. Your breath caught in your throat as she got down on one knee, her eyes never leaving yours.

"Wanda..." you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion.

Wanda smiled up at you, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I know this might seem sudden, but I've known for a long time that you're the one I want to spend the rest of my life with. So, Y/N, will you marry me?"

Tears filled your eyes as you looked down at the woman who had become your best friend, your partner, and the love of your life. The moment felt surreal, like a dream you never wanted to end.

"Yes," you said, your voice thick with emotion. "Yes, Wanda, I'll marry you."

Wanda's face lit up with pure joy as she slipped the ring onto your finger, standing up to pull you into a tight embrace. You could feel her tears mingling with your own as you held each other, the world around you fading away until it was just the two of you, wrapped up in each other's love.

As you stood there, holding the woman you were going to spend the rest of your life with, you knew that no matter what challenges came your way, you would face them together—side by side, heart to heart.

You smiled at the memories, your heart swelling with warmth as you looked down at the ring that still adorned your finger—symbolizing the love that had only grown stronger over the years.

"And that's how your mama proposed to me," you finished, glancing over at Wanda, who was watching you with a loving expression.

Billy and Tommy sat wide-eyed, clearly entranced by the story. "Wow, mama really did all that just to get you to go out with her?" Billy asked, his voice filled with awe.

You chuckled, nodding. "She sure did. Your mama was very determined."

Tommy grinned, looking over at Wanda with newfound admiration. "You're so cool, mama! I bet no one else could have won mommy over like that!"

Wanda laughed, reaching out to ruffle Tommy's hair. "I had to work hard, but it was worth it. Your mommy is pretty special."

The boys giggled, and you felt a surge of affection for your family. It was moments like this—full of love, laughter, and warmth—that reminded you how lucky you were to have Wanda and the boys in your life.

"And what happened after you got married?" Billy asked, his curiosity still not satisfied.

Wanda and you exchanged a glance, and she smiled. "Well, after we got married, we decided to start a family. And that's where you two come in."

The boys' eyes lit up, and Tommy leaned forward eagerly. "Tell us more! How did we get here?"

You smiled, your heart swelling with emotion as you thought back to those early days of starting a family.

After your wedding, you and Wanda knew that the next step in your journey together was to start a family. You both wanted children—two little ones to love and raise together.

It wasn't long before you began exploring the process of artificial insemination. The decision was easy; you both wanted to carry on the Maximoff name while also honoring your shared journey. You were nervous, but Wanda was always there to hold your hand and remind you that no matter what happened, you would face it together.

When you found out you were pregnant, the joy was overwhelming. Wanda cried happy tears when you showed her the positive test, and she held you close, whispering promises of love and support for the journey ahead.

The pregnancy was full of ups and downs—morning sickness, cravings, and endless doctor’s appointments—but through it all, Wanda was your rock. She was there for every moment, holding your hand, rubbing your back, and soothing your anxieties with her unwavering love.

And then, one beautiful day, Billy and Tommy came into the world.

The moment you held your sons for the first time, you felt an indescribable connection. Their tiny hands grasped your fingers, and you knew in that instant that you would do anything to protect and love them.

Wanda was just as smitten. She looked at the boys with tears of joy in her eyes, and you knew that this was the family you had always dreamed of.

"And that's how you two came to be," you said, your voice filled with love as you looked at your sons. "You were the greatest gifts we could have ever asked for."

Billy and Tommy looked up at you and Wanda with wide eyes, their expressions filled with wonder and love.

"We’re really lucky, huh?" Billy said softly, his voice full of affection.

Tommy nodded, his small hand reaching out to grasp yours. "Yeah, we have the best moms in the whole world."

Your heart swelled with emotion, and you felt tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. Wanda reached over and gently wiped away a tear that had escaped, her smile warm and full of love.

"We're the lucky ones," Wanda said softly, her voice filled with emotion. "Because we have you two."

As you sat there, surrounded by your family, you felt an overwhelming sense of peace and contentment. The journey that had brought you and Wanda together—the ups and downs, the challenges and triumphs—had all led to this moment, right here, right now.

And you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

That night, after tucking Billy and Tommy into bed, you and Wanda curled up on the couch together, a blanket draped over your legs as you watched the flickering flames in the fireplace.

Wanda’s head rested on your shoulder, and you felt her hand slip into yours, her fingers entwining with yours in a familiar, comforting way.

"Have you ever regretted agreeing to go on that date with me?" Wanda asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled, turning your head to press a kiss to her temple. "Oh my God, no. Never. And I never would have imagined back in high school that we’d end up here—married, with two amazing boys."

Wanda chuckled softly, her breath warm against your skin. "It’s funny how life works out, isn’t it? All those years ago, I was just trying to get your attention, and now… now you’re my whole world."

You felt your heart swell with love as you tightened your grip on her hand. "And you’re mine, Wanda. I’m so grateful for everything we’ve been through—every challenge, every triumph—because it brought us here."

Wanda lifted her head, her green eyes meeting yours, and you saw the love and adoration reflected in them. "I love you, Y/N. More than anything in this world."

"I love you too, Wanda," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "Always."

So you once again realized how truly lucky you were—having Natasha make you agree to go on that date and Wanda being so persistent.

You couldn’t imagine a happy life without her.

[tacticoal]

「V.I.P. for me ?!」: ̗̀➛ part 2 to biker!racer!simon

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ sfw, gn reader, unedited, suggestive content if you squint, mdni !!

wanted to throw in a big big thank you for all the recent support loves, you have no idea how welcomed you've all made me feel. please enjoy.

you. are. beaming.

ecstatic, delighted, overjoyed, hysterical, your mind lists all the words that could only ever possibly describe how you're feeling as you grasp your phone with nearly enough force to crack the screen.

simon riley, the #1 motorcycle racer in britain, upholding a 5-year champion streak, the man you've known and adored for years, is doing a meet-and-greet in your town.

and you're staring down at the VIP ticket on your phone.

your friends messaged you in the group chat, explaining that they all chipped in for your special invitation, buying the standard, cheaper tickets for themselves to come with you. the VIP admission gives you access to a shorter line that simon gets to first, as well as a photo with him and his bike. oh, that work of beauty, you think, already smelling the gasoline it burns off.

you spammed them with several thank you's and holy shit's, before calling a nearby restaurant to reserve a table (the poor lady on the other end could barely make out your warbled and giddy speech). just imagining next week makes you squeal and giggle into your pillow all night.

next week. the event is next week. exactly 6 days, 10 hours, 54 minutes and 4 seconds from now. 6 days to go out, get a fresh set of clothes, hair trimmed, and figure out any other essentials. surely that's more than enough time, right?

well, with no more than an hour left until you have to be out the door, you're pacing around your bed, 5 different outfits splayed over it. your friends -- who knew you'd be in this situation and arrived about an hour earlier already dressed up -- sit around your room, either watching you or on their phones listening as you ramble about how this outfit would catch his eye, but this one looks more comfy--

they knew not to interrupt you, providing the most company they can while you grumble, beginning to get impatient with yourself. eventually, you settle on something loose and airy, but revealing enough to gather the right kind of attention.

"what if he thinks i'm ugly.." you mutter, brushing down a stray hair in front of the mirror with a shaky hand.

"then y'know he's knocked his head into the concrete one too many times," your closest friend giggles.

huffing out a laugh, you nod and go to arrange a tote bag, throwing everything you want simon to sign. an official t-shirt promoting his name, two framed photographs of him, and a notepad. obviously the bag is getting signed too -- you'd throw in your arm and forehead in there if they weren't attached to your body. sigh, modern day problems.

finally, finally the time comes where you're waiting in line. holy shit, this is really happening. you can see a glimpse of his tracksuit from here, your body trembling with nerves. you've separated from your friends a bit ago, jaw dropped as you passed by the crowds of people lined up for this event. music blasts through your earbuds, in an attempt to tune out the bass blasting throughout the streets and boisterous screams 'n chatter. keeping your friends updated on where you are, you stay hunched over your phone as you slowly inch up the line.

"'nd what's your name?-"

simon's gaze tilts up from the checkerboard table to you, his breath immediately caught in his throat. you were still looking down, thumbs tapping on the screen in your hands. your glance flickered up for a split second, before your head completely snapped up to him, eyes widening as they get caught in the riptide of his deep, darker ones. with your mouth agape, you both stare at each other in silence. a beat or two passes before you rip your earbuds away, shoving them into your bag, alongside your phone.

"oh my god, i'm so sorry, i wasn't paying attention to the line, i was texting my friends and got distracted with them-"

it's you, he thinks. the one from the pub those few weeks back. he clears his throat and nods, watching you hastily pull out the things for him to sign, his heart clenching the same way it did when he first laid eyes on you. you giddily point at where you want his signature, and he's quick to oblige, the permanent marker squeaking against glass.

"i'm a really big fan," you admit bashfully, unable to hide the excited grin that stretches across your face, "since freshman year of college, 'm pretty sure."

now, simon's heard that from basically every fan he's encountered, but he's never truly believed them until now. he looks up to you, sliding the framed pictures to the side to make room for your notepad. your eyes glitter with a childlike glee as you stare back at him, and he wonders what your pretty head's thinking.

"that so, love?" he muses, tilting his head.

"yeah," you beam at the nickname, "i don't know how you do it -- everything you do is so cool."

he breathes out a laugh, ignoring how he's holding up the line behind you.

"i'd be glad to show y'round it sometime."

"really?"

you watch him with gleaming eyes, jaw dropped, as he writes a string of numbers below his name.

"text me anytime, love," he teases, handing it back to you before flicking his hand, "now shoo off, before security gets on ya."

"what about the photo?" you pout at him in disappointment, and he can't help but grin wolfishly in return.

"i promise you much more than a photo if you keep in touch."

@ tacticoal do not repost !!

[dwaekkicidal]

~740 words | warnings: spanking, collar+leash, rough sex, p in v, some dirty talking, DIY porn (pictures & video), mentions of video calling, 'slut' used at the very end, sorta proofread <3

thinking about jeongin bringing home that stupid collar with his name on it. this has literally plagued me for WEEKS but i was so caught up in requests that i never wrote anything for it until now😭

he knew it looked good on him from the onslaught of texts you had sent throughout the day, but in the back of his mind he knew it would look much better elsewhere

which is how you ended up on your hands and knees on your shared bed, your ass cheeks only stinging as he squeezed the already burning flesh.

he took his sweet time appreciating your body with his eyes as he reached for an item in his bag. & he didnt really bother explaining much. other than making sure you were in the mood and okay with having sex, he had kept completely quiet about his plans.

he laughs almost maniacally as he suddenly buckles the collar around your throat. "yeah... I knew it would look better around your neck. innie's pretty little pet?"

oh and that metal clinking noise followed by your head getting snapped backward? yeah... you have no idea where he managed to get that leash. but you cant really bring yourself to complain or ask about it when he slides into you right after finishing his sentence.

he pulls you into him with each thrust by using the leverage from the leash and quickly finds a brutal pace that doesnt give you much room to think, or really breathe for that matter.

the only sounds leaving him are his frantic panting and occasional possessive comments followed by a groan:

"you think I don't see the way my hyungs look at you? huh? you think im that stupid?"

"you're mine. don't fucking forget that."

"think seungmin could fuck you this good? oh! what about channie-hyung? huh?? i asked you a question."

his hand comes down on your ass roughly and you squeak. you attempt to jump forward and run from the stinging sensation, but the grip he has on the leash is too strong. you can only struggle against the leather, causing the metal to make a clanking noise as he tugs it towards him again.

he slams his hips against yours roughly, bottoming out, and stops completely. he loosens the hold on the leash and just stares, letting you catch your breath for a moment, and only a moment. because he has other plans.

plans that include flipping you over and shoving a pillow under your lower back. then sliding back into your dripping cunt and wrapping the leash around his knuckles.

this time he doesnt really tug or pull at it. he just holds you in place with it as he starts fucking into you with more vigor.

& you think that's all that will happen- only the position change. but ohhhh are you so wrong. & he proves you wrong by leaning to the side and grabbing something that is just out of your vision.

thanks to your watery eyes from the lack of air you had up until this point, you dont realize what it is right away. not until you hear the clicks of a camera.

you manage to blink some of the blurriness away in time to notice the flash of his phone taking a photo of you. his phone covers his nose and up, leaving you the toothy grin that spreads on his face.

"say cheese!"

obviously you dont, but he still takes the picture; making sure to capture the shiny metal spelling out his stage name and the humiliated tears that start to fall down your cheeks. his eyes meet yours through the screen of his phone and he moans loudly, hips faltering.

"mmm- let's take a video, jagi. 'n i'll send it to the group chat to show the boys what theyre missing out on."

he curses, his orgasm sneaking up on him faster than he thought and causing him to slow his hips, not wanting to cum just yet. he sighs heavily as he changes to slow and steady thrusts, "or maybe i should start a group call, huh? wanna be our little cam slut?"

he waits a few seconds before he gets impatient and yanks the metal leash towards him, literally dragging you out of your daze. you blink and more tears fall.

it seems to only egg him on though and he finally moves the phone to show off his full face; a sex-crazed smirk with his tongue poking the corner of his lip and his dark eyes staring down at you like youre his 5-course meal.

"what do you say? shall we give the boys a show?"

taglist;

@valkyriexo @lunearta @jabmastersupriseee @rylea08

@yaorzu-blog @amararosesblog @jiminssluttyminx @clemissleepy

@miss-daisy04 @kittyxnoa @dwaekkiiracha @bubblerizz

@mariteez

[kawhh]

Part 2 of the promised feral!Quinn brainrot dropping. I fear I may or may not have turned this into part of a horror movie. I have no excuses for how obsessed I am with feral, slightly insane Quinn.

@ruinix the part 2 finally happened 10 years later.

@sweetestdesire I hope this makes the new kink discovery worse.

2.1k words.

Warnings: fear play, primal play, blood, quinn in a horror movie when, biting, him causing you a little pain, degrading, use of whore/hole, man's inhaling your arousal from clothing, thumb in ass but no actual ass fucking, fucking you with no thought of your pleasure or comfort, cum over you, picasso, one face slap, hitting your cervix, cock warming at the end. Not proof read.

You'd never been so nervous in your life, a mental war raging in your head between running for your life and staying perfectly still on the couch waiting for the punishment you knew was coming.

You could hear him upstairs. Could hear the creaking of the ceiling from the sheer force of him trying to force himself free. The sound of the headboard smacking the wall with his frustration loud enough to hear downstairs.

The muffled swearing, the grunts of frustration. Shaking as the noises pause occasionally, hearing an almost psychopathic laugh filling the gaps, sending shivers down your spine.

You'd never pushed him before and now you're struggling to remember why you thought it'd be a smart decision. You knew how he was constantly working on his restraint with you, not wanting to scare you. Not wanting to push you. And then you pushed him.

You swear it sounds like he's lifting the bed off the floor, with how heavy the slams are. Dragging your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them, hiding your head as the thumps echo throughout the house. Desperately trying to ignore how you can feel yourself getting wet through the fear, not wanting to fully acknowledge the urge you have to just present yourself and wait.

Your eyes widening, shooting up to look at the ceiling when an even louder bang rings through the walls, realisation crashing into you as you hear footsteps on the floor now. He.. he actually broke free.

He's coming for you.

It's worrying how he's not rushing for you, he's slowly stalking you. His footsteps paced out enough to spike your heart rate, feeling the back of your shirt starting to stick to your skin from the sweat.

Every single step he walks down feels like a warning, your body screaming at you to stay alert, the creak of the floorboards under his heavy footsteps forcing your head to swivel, to keep an eye on the door.

"Oh, sweetheart..." he's hidden behind the door still, one of his hands darting forward to grip the door frame, evidence of his struggle with the restraints clear, his wrists red raw, decorated with small cuts and smeared blood.

"I warned you..."

The look on his face when it rounds the corner sends a genuine spike of fear through you, enough to trigger the fight or flight instinct. He looks possessed, his pupils fully dilated, his heavy breathing, the fixed stare at your body truly making you feel like scared prey.

Your body trembling as he slowly makes his way to you, the way his tongue swipes across his lip like he wants to devour you sending another stronger spark of arousal through you.

On your feet before he fully reaches you, staring at him in panic as he rests his hands on the back of the couch, a slow smirk spreading across his manic face. He's fake lurching forward, laughing as you jump and panic. The squeak you let out is music to his ears.

"Nowhere to run, princess.."

He's walking around one side of the couch, watching as you run around the opposite side to keep as much distance as you can, watching as you stumble, your feet unsteady from the fear.

"It's okay to give up little bunny.. I won't bite..." the show he makes of running his tongue along his teeth doesn't fill you with confidence that he's not lying, especially when he playfully bites the air.

Logically you know that you have no chance of actually outrunning him, but you can't give in. Can't do the equivalent of lying on the ground and showing your tummy.

Hoping to get an advantage, you're launching off, running down the hallway as fast as you can, narrowly dodging his grip as he reaches out for you, feeling his fingers brush against the hem of your shirt.

You're stumbling, somehow avoiding every single wall and object in your way, gulping as you can feel him behind you, knowing he's playing with you, knowing he could easily overtake you. He's just laughing at you, tugging on your clothes, yanking you back before letting you free.

"Careful sweetheart, can't let you get hurt now, can I?"

His words don't match his actions, you can feel a breeze on the back of your shirt from rip you felt him make. It's getting to your head, making you dizzy. He keeps slowing down enough to drag it out, to make sure you're afraid, making sure you feel punished, hunted.

The second you start to flag, he's lurching forward, forcing you to the floor with him, pinning you down with all his weight. His teeth digging into the back of your neck hard enough to draw blood, his tongue sliding over the mark, lapping at the blood like an actual lunatic.

He's grazing his teeth down your back, digging his nails into your shoulders, murmuring about how pathetic you are for being so easily caught, forcing his hands down your body.

His touch burns as he harshly gropes every inch of skin he can reach, making you feel even weaker under his grip, you can't resist him. You can't run, you can't fight.

Forcing you down by his hands on your back, tugging your shorts down with his teeth, sinking his teeth into your underwear covered ass, biting down harder when you scream and squirm.

He loosens his grip on purpose, chuckling as you use the little window of space to crawl away from him, staying on the ground as you stumble to your feet, your legs getting trapped in the fabric before you kick it off.

He's watching as you sprint off like a baby deer, reaching out to grab your discarded shorts. He can see how wet you are, how it's soaked through. He can't resist burying his head into the patch, inhaling deeply. Saliva filling his mouth as he moans into the fabric, the taste of you seeping through onto his tongue.

He keeps his steps quiet when he lifts himself off the floor, not wanting you to hear his footsteps as he stalks towards the only place you could have gone to actually hide.

"Ready or not.. here I come."

He can hear your squeak from your hiding place, you're so tragically bad at hiding your responses.

The fear you feel in the closet is overwhelming, making the earlier fear feel like a joke. You can't stop your body from shaking, can't stay still.

You can't hear him, haven't heard a word since his taunt echoed across the house. What if he's right outside the closet door? What if he's just standing there? Would he just stand there? What if he's still on the floor, waiting for you to give in?

Your thoughts race, your breathing rivaling an asthma attack, your heart thumping in your chest.

Every little noise makes you jump, makes you bury yourself further in the corner. Every creak of the house, your eyes playing tricks on you, making you believe that he's outside.

You feel like you need to leave, to apologise, to get on your knees and beg him to take it easy on you, to not make you panic, to calm the fear down. He was being so loud earlier and now he's.. how long has it even been?

He's pin drop quiet as he enters the room you're hiding in, silencing the sound of the door opening, balancing on his feet to muffle the sound of his footsteps, thankful that the guest bedroom floor is carpeted.

He can hear you whimpering in the closet, the noise going straight to his dick. He's throbbing in his pants from chasing you down, the idea of having his way with you when you're like this is intoxicating. He's never had a reason to punish you before. He's been so controlled. He's been aching to let loose on your cute little body.

Making his way to the closet, preparing himself before he slams the door open, containing his moan as you scream in fright from the surprise, watching as you shuffle back on your ass trying to escape. There's nowhere to go, you've trapped yourself.

"Found you.. sweetheart."

He's forcing himself into the small closet before you can even fully process what happened, how he found you, how long he'd been there.

You don't stand a chance as he spins you around, forcing your head against the dark wall harshly, whining at how rough he's already being, feeling uncomfortable as your head is squished against the freezing surface.

He doesn't see a need to wait, to let you calm down. He's had his taste of you earlier, now he needs to teach you a lesson.

He makes light work of the only protection you have, easily tugging off your underwear, forcing your head further against the wall by your neck when you squirm, leaning forward to snap at your ear with his teeth. Enjoying the way you can't contain another scream.

Forcing you to arch, making sure you're as uncomfortable as you can be, forced into a position that puts constant pressure on your head. He knows your arms and legs are numb too, you were in this cramped closet for too long.

Running his thumb over your ass, circling the bite mark he made in the hallway, slowly edging it towards your cute little hidden hole, lightly tracing circles around it, applying just enough pressure to make you whine loudly, drool escaping your mouth from being forced against the wall and the threat of him taking your ass.

He can't resist increasing the pressure, resting his thumb directly over you, not hard enough to sink into you, but enough to make sure you know he's not fucking around.

He's lifting his thumb to spit directly onto the suddenly unoccupied space, watching as it floods your hole, dripping down to your cunt. He's pushing his thumb into you, not even an inch, just watching you squirm harder, your body shaking side to side in his hold, protesting in such an adorably pathetic way. It'll stay there until he's done.

Releasing his cock from his pants with his one free hand, yanking them down his hips until the material reaches his knees. He doesn't have much room in this closet either, forcing his body against yours further.

The spit on your cunt makes you look like you're drooling for him, his cock twitching as he lines it up with you.

"Such a good fucking hole for me..."

He's not careful with you, brutally thrusting into you, moaning as he feels how wet you are. Feeling the evidence of how much you liked the chase. Sniffing your shorts was one thing, but being buried in your cunt is perfection.

Your walls don't want him to leave even if you're whimpering some bullshit at him about how he should slow down, how he should take it easy on you. They're gripping every vein, borderline sucking at him as he pulls out until just the head is resting inside you.

Every thrust forces you further into the painful position, bounces your head against the wall. An ache in your neck from him keeping you like this. You can't feel your arms or legs, you can't move. You can only surrender to him as he takes what he wants.

He's like a machine when he pumps into you, he's never fucked you this hard before. He's always been soft with you, always checking in on you to make sure you're okay.

He's reaching around to grab your chin, forcing you to face him, softly slapping your face as your only relief from the pain of being forced into the wall. You can't stop the moan from the hit, face flooding with redness in embarrassment at how you're enjoying his behaviour.

You're barely conscious as he keeps up the pace, unconcerned about your feelings or your arousal. He's using you as a hole, making you feel like a doll.

It doesn't feel like it'll ever end, especially as he starts occasionally hammering into your cervix, pinning you down even further. The slight pain making you yelp, embarrassing you even further as your body even gets off on the pain. The feeling of him being completely in you.

His hand digging into your ass as he feels the end coming, pulling out of you to paint your back with his cum, grabbing his cock to direct his cum where he wants it. He needs it down you, in your hair, on your ass, he needs it everywhere. His fucking whore.

He's sliding back inside you after he's made his art, slowly grinding his hips against you, laughing again as you protest, he knows you're bothered by the cum on you, your oversensitive cunt contracting around him.

He's not going anywhere anytime soon. He's staying buried in his little whore until you can think of an excuse for your behaviour, until you can look him in the eyes and confess.

[mysterymachine67]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x M!reader

Summary: Fucking Dean on one of the tables in the bunker.

NSFW. Minors DNI.

The table surprisingly didn’t creak as much as you thought it would. But when it did, the sound matched the hit of your thrusts against Dean. The sound of the table wasn’t the only thing making noise, Dean was spewing out quiet whimpers, loud moans, and groans. All because of you.

Before all of this happened, it was a normal, regular day. Dean and Sam sat at one of the many tables in the bunker, doing their own things while minding their business. You were just coming out of the kitchen, a drink in hand while mumbling about almost dropping something. When you got close enough behind Dean you put your free hand on his shoulder. Moving your thumb back and forth a few times. This went on for at least five minutes before Sam got up and started speaking.

“Alright, I’ll be back,” He announced while shutting his computer. You and Dean looked at him confused. “I have to go pick up another lore book.” He reassured.

“Why would you go do that? We probably have half the books of lore in this place.” Dean spoke. You kept quiet, watching this slowly unfold.

“Well, this one we don’t have. It’s different.” Sam quipped. Dean left it alone, but mumbling a ‘whatever’ under his breath. Once Sam was gone you decided to move a hand in Dean’s hair. Moving your fingers in soothing motions and combing through it. To which he leaned back, melting from the action. After a good few seconds you leaned down. Mouth close to his ear; breath fanning over it.

“How about we do something fun. Hm?” You whispered. Hearing as he sucked in a breath.

“Define fun.”

“Well,” You started. Your hand going from soothing motions to grabbing his hair. It wasn’t a tight hold. Just enough to pull his head back a bit. Your other ran down his shoulder. It brought shivers throughout his body. His cock soon started to grow hard. “How ‘bout fucking you on this table? That sound fun?”

His reaction was all that you needed.

That’s how you guys ended up here. Fucking nasty on one of the tables in the bunker.

“God damnit!” Dean groaned. His hand held yours, gripping a lot more tightly than it normally had before. Well, you couldn’t blame him. Your cock stretched him out and hit his prostate dead on. Practically making him see stars with every one of your thrusts. But hey, he fucking loved it. Your lips pressed kisses along his neck. All the way up to his jaw. You made sure to leave a few hickeys too.

You met his mouth with your lips; pressing a kiss that he’d return back. With your other hand, you ran it down his chest. All the way till you met his weeping cock. Wrapping your hand around it, then slowly starting to move up and down. You heard a gasp—then a quiet whimper. His hips bucked to try and make you go faster. On both parts. Not too long ago your thrusts slowed because you wanted to be a tease. But the thing was you two didn’t have long before Sam came back. It seemed to Dean that you didn’t seem to care.

“Faster, please.” Dean pleaded. Before you slowed your thrusts, he was sure he’d pass out from the pleasure.

“Be patient, Dean.” You say as you thumbed at his tip, spreading the pre around (which was not your intention but it happened anyway). He put his head to the side. Closing his eyes and furrowing his eyebrows slightly. You’re sure you heard a whine in the process.

“Fuck just—“ He began, but he cut himself off with his own groan when you squeezed his cock.

You tried to stop the smile that formed, but failed. “Watch it.” You warned. You would’ve kept teasing, but with the limited amount of time you had, you stopped. So you with your one hand, because Dean will not let go of your other, let go of his cock and instead gripped his hip. You set your pace and rhythm, relishing in the sounds that poured from Dean’s mouth. You let out a moan when he clenched around you. If we’re gonna be honest, you nearly came. You had no shame, he felt to good.

His grip on your hand tightened. The feel of you bullying your cock into him inched him closer to cumming. Grunts and moans sounded the room from the both of you. With just a few more harsh thrusts you came, and so did Dean. You cursed under your breath while he attempted to hide his face. With what exactly? Absolutely nothing.

Anyway, you kept yourself buried inside of him. You leaned down atop of him, moving to kiss him. Dean let go of your hand. Finally. Then wrapped his arms around you. You both breathed heavily, only one of you attempting to control it. Then stayed like this till one of you decided to get up and clean.

—

“Hey, why’s this table so loose?” Sam questioned. It was late at night, and the three of you once again were sat at the same table.

Dean nearly didn’t swallow his drink at the question, and you had to look away. Otherwise you’d laugh.

[valentinedrifter]

Snippets with Haewon: Dreams

male reader x Oh Haewon

~1.5k words

A/N: Trying something different.

Trigger Warning: Talks of Death

You told yourself that letting her go was the right thing to do.

Everyday is a constant reminder that it is the worst decision of your life. Days that were spent celebrating every win you had at competitions felt empty, hollow. The apartment you lived in was bare, quiet. It doesn’t feel like a home. 

It’s a never ending cycle of waking up, eating, training, and sleeping. Any free time you have you spend every second doing chores, going on walks around the neighbourhood, more drills on the tennis court. Anything to get your mind from thinking about regret, about what could have beens, about her.

It’s fucking miserable.

The weather really didn’t help either. It wasn’t because it was gloomy, it was the fact that it’s the complete opposite. The forecast says that it’ll be ‘bright skies’ throughout the afternoon, and not a single vehicle in sight in your vicinity.

It was sunny. Like the world was telling you that it’s going to be okay. As if the Powers that be are giving you a good day. You never liked it when you get these types of days. Because it’s just another reminder that you couldn’t spend the good, relaxing days with her.

And if that wasn’t enough, the one car that you did see barely hit you when you were crossing the street. Guess Lady Luck is on your side today too.

You can’t help but feel something odd just happened.

You kept going, anywhere, everywhere. Streets flooded with the masses, food stalls on the sidewalk, cosplayers dancing, children playing. Seeing the joy on everyone’s faces as they go about their day with their loved ones makes you even more depressed.

You wish that you could have that too. Wish that you could be in her arms instead. Wish you never let her go.

And if you were ever given the opportunity to take it all back, you’d damn well take it.

You’re still walking, head down, lost inside of your own thoughts that you don’t realize that you’ve bumped into somebody. Head looks up, and raven eyes are piercing straight into yours. He’s wearing all white, practical, simple. He smells clean. Too clean.

“Sorry.” You mumble out, stepping to the side, continuing your walk. He doesn’t answer. Just staring at you, face blank, eyes following your every movement.

You see him a couple of more times along the way. Eating an ice cream, dancing with strangers, petting a dog. And every single time you cross paths, he’s still staring.

It’s making you anxious, making you look over your shoulder because you don’t know why he’s so fixated on you, making you walk faster, go through shortcuts you didn’t know existed-

“Hey stranger.” A voice. Angelic, soothing, familiar. Dressed in black, elegant, beautiful. Her face, beaming, smile reaching her eyes. You missed being on the receiving end of it.

“Haewon?” You know it’s her, just from that smile, but you still can’t help but ask. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d be in-” A hand grips your shoulder. Gentle, assuring, stern.

“I’m here for you.” Her hand slides down to hold yours. “Come on.” She pulls, and you follow.

“Wait, wait-” You pull back, shaking your head. “Why are you here? You’re supposed to be on the other side of the city.” 

A sigh. Defeated, tired, practiced. “I told you.” A tilt of her head. “I’m here for you. To take you where you need to go.”

“What-” You’re sputtering. “Take me where? I don’t even know what street we’re on!” Your hands explode outwards, confusion written in your entire body as Haewon simply stares. “Seriously, Haewon, you’re not making any sense-” You’re pacing, asking her so many questions, like how she knows where to find you, how she’s been, why she decided to show up today of all days.

So many more left unsaid between you two. So many broken promises you want to fix.

And all she does is smile. “It’s because you’re-” She stops, as if she got cut off. Then she huffs out a laugh. “Are you here for him too?”

You turn around to see the guy that’s been following you, looking at Haewon now. You can still smell how sterile he is from across the street.

He nods. Haewon shakes her head. “Did he make it?”

Another nod. Haewon sighs. “I suppose that’s that.” A clap echoes in the air. The air drizzles. The air rains. The air pours.

She waves, heading to enter another alleyway. “Follow him. He’ll take you back.” 

“Wait!” You shout. She stops. “Will I see you again?”

She smiles, and that one smile answered so many questions. “You will.” And she disappears, blending with the roar of the rain.

A tap on your shoulder. A hand outstretched, waiting for you. 

You realize that letting her go is the worst decision of your life.

Maybe this time you can have a chance to set things right.

You take it.

The hand burns.

You burn.

—

Oh Haewon was told not to let feelings interfere with the job.

Everyday is a constant reminder that she needs to stick to that motto. There is illness at every corner, internal battles within each person that she can only help reinforce with doses and drips. The smell of iron painting her gloves, her hands. The crying that echoes throughout the hallways when their loved ones join the ghosts of the night. 

It wasn’t easy, getting used to it. And maybe she could say that she has. Convinced herself that this is part of the dangers of her job. That even after everything that she’s seen, everything she’s done, Oh Haewon does it to save people.

It doesn’t stop her heart from breaking every time she hears a child crying. Doesn’t stop her mind from cracking under all of the pressure. Doesn’t stop the nightmares that take over her dreams when she sleeps.

But Oh Haewon powers through. Always remembering why she’s doing this. Why she’s still pushing forward after all of the suffering she’s witnessed, the blood she’s held in her hands, the torture she’s inflicting upon herself.

Part of it was because this was what she wanted. Years of studying to get her degree, to get her license to help treat people, get to know them, be a difference in their lives. It’s what she was born with, always helping, always trying to be that force of kindness that everyone needs. Part of it boiled down to a simple little object.

A ball. Small, pink, cotton worn from the passage of time. To anyone, it was just that. Something that she brings everyday to work as a ‘Stress Ball’ as one of her co-workers called it. 

To her? It was a remnant of the past, of a happier time, something that could’ve been if things were different. It’s a letter that somewhere in the world, one person still believes in her.

She really shouldn’t be keeping it anymore. Not after what happened. She doesn’t even know if he still remembers her.

A tiny part of her hopes that he still does.

Her pager rings out. “EMRGY RM. LVL 2. STAT.”

A deep breath. Another patient to save. Another shard that breaks her down just a bit more.

“Patient has-” Injuries are stated, vital signs are checked, and she’s so busy gloving up and listening to the diagnosis that she doesn’t stop to actually look at whoever’s on the bed. And when she does?

“We need to move him-” She never thought she’d see that face again. Especially not like this. Blood on the side of his face, burns all over his body. She feels sick to her stomach, that familiar urge to puke stirring deep inside of her once more.

“Losing too much blood-” She’s losing focus, losing herself in the emotions that she should never allow herself to feel on the job. Going down a spiral she doesn’t think she can get back up from. 

Until she sees it.

A necklace. It’s darkened from the fire, chains linked together from the heat of what it’s experienced, pendant deformed but still readable.

HWN

He still remembers. Still cares about her.

Oh Haewon was told not to let feelings interfere with the job.

Not today. Not with him on the line.

“Page doctor Park. Get him to the ICU.” Everyone’s scrambling, herself included as she preps the crash cart for transport.

She’s moving like a machine, adrenaline fueling her entire body as the stretcher is taken outside of the ER. Outside of her jurisdiction. And when it was time to pass him over to the people handling the ICU, her body numb, her mind restless, her heart wishful.

She calls out to another nurse, giving an excuse for a 5-minute break. She doesn’t know where she’s headed. Only that she ends up gazing at her own reflection in the mirror. The reflection stares back.

Oh Haewon feels a sting in her eyes, that familiar burn that she always tries to stop.

She doesn’t hold it back this time.

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Hello! Can I request (WandaNat ish?) it’s mainly dom Nat x sub fem reader where R’s dom Wanda is being sent on a week long mission and she knows R doesn’t do well alone so she trusts her with Nat and Nat is like this hardened harsh dom cause she’s used to dealing with the brattiest of the brats and ends up surprised cause R’s like the goodest girl ever.

Mommy!Wanda Maximoff x sub!fem!reader, Dom!Natasha x sub!fem!reader(platonic)

Summary: Natasha has come to look after you while Wanda is on a week long mission.

Word Count: 1.2K

Warnings: 18+ due to themes, MDNI

Authors notes: It was interesting writing a dom/sub dynamic where nothing happened between them.

Wanda paced the living room, worry etched on her face. She glanced over at you, curled up on the couch, and sighed. "I hate leaving you alone, sweetie," she murmured, her voice soft and loving. "But this mission is important."

You nodded, understanding but still feeling a knot of anxiety in your stomach. Being without Wanda for a week felt daunting. "I’ll miss you, Mommy," you whispered, looking up at her with wide eyes.

Wanda smiled gently, stroking your cheek. "I’ll miss you too, my little one. But I’ve made arrangements." She looked towards the door as it opened, revealing Natasha. "Nat’s going to take care of you while I’m gone."

Natasha walked in, exuding confidence and a stern demeanor. She was known for handling the most rebellious subs, and you couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous under her intense gaze.

Wanda hugged you tightly before stepping aside. "I trust you with Nat. She’s experienced and will make sure you’re safe and taken care of."

Natasha nodded, her eyes softening slightly as she looked at you. "I’ve got this, Wanda. She’ll be in good hands."

Wanda had just left for her mission, and you felt a mix of anxiety and determination to be good for Natasha. You stood nervously in the living room, unsure of what to expect.

Natasha noticed your apprehension and decided to start with something simple. "Alright, let's start with some basic rules. I expect you to be respectful, follow my instructions, and let me know if you need anything. Understand?"

"Yes, Ma’am," you replied, nodding quickly.

"Good girl. Now, let's make dinner together," Natasha suggested, leading you to the kitchen. Throughout the evening, she observed your eagerness to help and your meticulous attention to her instructions.

As you sat down to eat, Natasha praised you. "You did well today. Tomorrow, we'll go over a more detailed routine."

You smiled, feeling a bit more at ease. "Thank you, Ma’am."

==============

The next morning, Natasha woke you up early. "Rise and shine, little one. Let's start the day with some exercise."

You followed her to the living room, where she led you through a series of stretches and light workouts. Natasha was firm but encouraging, and you tried your best to keep up.

Afterward, she sat you down for breakfast. "Today, we'll go over your chores and how I expect things to be done."

You listened intently as she explained your tasks: keeping the living room tidy, doing the laundry, and preparing simple meals. You nodded eagerly, wanting to prove you could handle everything.

As the day went on, Natasha noticed how diligently you worked, always checking in to ensure you were doing things right. "You're doing great, little one," she said, patting your head. "Just remember to take breaks and drink water."

===========

By the third day, you had settled into the routine Natasha had established. She decided to test your obedience a bit further. "Today, I want you to wear this," she said, handing you a specific outfit.

You blushed but complied without hesitation. "Yes, Ma’am."

Throughout the day, Natasha gave you various tasks, each one a bit more challenging than the last. She watched as you completed each one with dedication and a desire to please.

That evening, Natasha rewarded you with a relaxing bath. "You've been such a good girl. You deserve to relax," she said, running the water and adding bubbles.

You sighed contentedly as you soaked in the tub, grateful for her care.

===========

Natasha decided it was time to see how you handled a bit more pressure. "Today, we're going to do some more intense training," she announced.

She led you through a series of more demanding exercises, both physical and mental. You felt the strain but pushed through, wanting to impress her.

Throughout the day, Natasha remained attentive, offering praise and corrections as needed. By the end of the day, you were exhausted but proud of yourself.

"Well done, little one," Natasha said, giving you a rare smile. "You've shown great determination."

==========

On the fifth day, Natasha decided to lighten things up. "You've worked hard. Let's have some fun today."

She took you out for a walk in the park, letting you enjoy the fresh air and the beauty of nature. You felt relaxed and happy, chatting with her about various things.

Later, you baked cookies together, laughing as flour ended up everywhere. Natasha seemed more relaxed, and you felt a growing bond with her.

===============

As the week drew to a close, Natasha sat down with you for a heart-to-heart talk. "You've done exceptionally well, little one. I'm proud of you."

You beamed, feeling a rush of pride and happiness. "Thank you, Ma’am. I just wanted to make you and Mommy proud."

Natasha nodded. "You have. You've shown resilience, obedience, and a lot of heart."

On the final day, you and Natasha spent the day preparing for Wanda's return. You cleaned the house, prepared a special dinner, and made everything perfect.

As the evening approached, Natasha looked at you with a rare softness. "It's been a pleasure taking care of you, little one. You're a very special girl."

You blushed, feeling a deep sense of gratitude. "Thank you, Ma’am. I'm grateful for everything you've done."

=============

When Wanda finally walked through the door, she was greeted by the sight of you and Natasha waiting with smiles. She hugged you tightly, her eyes shining with love.

"Welcome home, Mommy," you said, feeling complete now that she was back.

Wanda looked at Natasha, her gratitude evident. "Thank you, Nat. You've taken such good care of her."

Natasha nodded, a rare smile on her face. "She's a gem, Wanda. You've raised a wonderful little one."

As Natasha prepared to leave, she turned to Wanda with a thoughtful expression. "You know, Wanda, looking after her has been a breeze compared to the brats I usually tame. Maybe I'll stop taming and finally get a cute little thing like her."

Wanda smiled, a twinkle in her eye. "You enjoyed her that much?"

Natasha chuckled softly. "Oh, absolutely. She was a delight. Maybe it's time for a change."

Wanda’s smile widened, warmth and affection evident in her eyes. "Well, you know you're more than welcome to come play with her whenever you want."

You looked up at Natasha, your heart fluttering with happiness. The idea of seeing her again filled you with excitement. "I'd like that, Ma’am."

Natasha reached out, gently ruffling your hair. "I'd like that too, little one."

With a final hug and a promise to visit soon, Natasha left, leaving you and Wanda to enjoy your reunion. As you cuddled up with Wanda on the couch, you felt an overwhelming sense of contentment. The week with Natasha had been challenging but rewarding, and now, with Wanda back, everything felt perfect.

Wanda kissed your forehead, her arms wrapped around you protectively. "I’m so proud of you, sweetheart. You did so well."

You smiled up at her, feeling loved and cherished. "I just wanted to make you proud, Mommy."

Wanda’s eyes softened, filled with love. "You always do, my precious little one."

And with that, you settled into the warmth of her embrace, looking forward to the future with both Wanda and the possibility of more time with Natasha.

[goblin-jr]

Tell me, where’s your hiding place?

Pairing: Clark Kent x Reader

Complete

part 1 . part 2 . part 3 . part 4 . part 5

blurbs masterlist (coming soon)

Summary: the truth comes out (the remix). endings

words: 7.4k

💌 💌 💌 💌

Metropolis was a storm of its own, a far cry from the quiet charm of Smallville. With Y/N’s album launch just days away, life had become a blur of rehearsals, interviews, and last-minute changes. She and Clark barely saw each other, both caught in the relentless pace of their own worlds.

Clark, back at the Daily Planet, had buried himself in work—investigative pieces, city politics, and, of course, the occasional Superman duty that pulled him away at a moment’s notice. Their interactions since returning had been limited to a few exchanged texts, mostly inside jokes from the farm and brief updates about their chaotic schedules.

But Clark had been keeping an eye on her.

Even if Y/N didn’t say it outright, he could see the pressure weighing on her. She carried herself as she always did—effortless, confident, every bit the superstar—but the exhaustion was creeping in at the edges. The late nights, the constant demands on her time, the weight of an entire industry’s expectations pressing down on her shoulders.

And then, the incident happened.

It was late—too late. Y/N had just wrapped up another grueling day, the kind that left her drained beyond words. She hadn’t even had time to eat, barely able to keep track of her own movements as she finally slid into the driver’s seat of her car. Her mind was fogged with exhaustion, so much so that she didn't notice a car run a red light, hitting a pole right next to hers.

She didn’t miss the explosion that followed.

The blast ripped through the night, a deafening boom sending flames surging over the hood. Panic seized her chest. The door—stuck. Smoke filled the cabin, thick and suffocating. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears as she struggled, knowing she only had seconds before the fire swallowed everything.

Then, suddenly—

The door was gone. No, not gone—ripped clean off its hinges as if it were made of paper.

Cool air rushed in, and before she could react, strong arms lifted her from the wreckage. A blur of red and blue moved through the smoke, holding her close. Then, they were soaring upward, away from the burning remains of her car.

Y/N gasped, clutching onto him. “Well, damn. You really know how to make an entrance.”

Superman smirked, his voice teasing and smooth. “You know, if you wanted my attention, sweetheart, there were easier ways to get it.”

Instead of shying away like last time, Y/N tilted her head, matching his energy. “I realized you didn’t give me your number last time, so it was always up to you to find me.”

His grip shifted slightly, securing her closer, his hold effortlessly steady. “Maybe I was just waiting for the perfect moment.”

Yeah. Y/N was gone.

The way he looked at her, the knowing amusement in his voice—it was a dangerous combination, and she wasn’t about to pretend it didn’t get to her.

Superman’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “What is this now, 0 for 2?”

Y/N let out a soft laugh, her fingers curling slightly against the smooth fabric of his suit. “If you want a thank you kiss, you could just ask.”

His brows lifted. “Oh?”

Before he could push her for more, she leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. His skin was warm beneath her lips, solid, real. She felt the subtle tension in him, the way his breath hitched just slightly.

As soon as her feet touched the ground, she exhaled, flipping her hair over her shoulder like she hadn’t just kissed the most powerful being on Earth. “Well, hero, I’d say we’re even now.”

Superman let out a low, amused laugh, shaking his head. “You are trouble.”

Y/N beamed. “I try.”

—

Clark was having the worst morning of his life.

It had started normally enough—he’d gone on patrol as Superman, saved some civilians. Throughout it all, his mind kept going back to last night where he had to rescue Y/N from yet another ridiculous near-death experience. Which, honestly? Fine. He had long since accepted that Y/N had the survival instincts of a potato chip and an alarming talent for attracting danger.

What he hadn’t accounted for was the fact that, before being set safely on the ground, Y/N had flirted with him. Shamelessly.

And then kissed his cheek.

In front of cameras.

And now, not even 12 hours later, he was sitting in the Daily Planet bullpen, watching in slow motion horror as Lois pulled up the front page of the Metropolis Inquisitor with the biggest, boldest, most earth-shattering headline of his life:

SONGBIRD & SUPERMAN?

Metropolis Darling Caught Kissing the Man of Steel!

And there it was. A massive photo of Superman—him—with Y/N’s lips on his cheek.

Clark blacked out for a second.

Lois, on the other hand, was thriving.

“Oh. My God,” she wheezed, slapping the newspaper onto the desk and grinning as she pointed at the picture. “Look at this! This is gold.”

Y/N, to Clark’s absolute horror, was delighted.

“Ohhh,” she breathed, snatching up the paper. “They got my good side.”

Clark felt like dying.

“I—” he croaked, still gripping his coffee cup like it was his last tether to sanity. “You—why would you—why?”

Y/N, still staring at the paper, shrugged. “Dunno, I was feeling flirty.”

Clark nearly choked. “With Superman?”

She smirked. “Can you blame me? He is the hottest guy in Metropolis.”

Lois howled, clapping a hand over her mouth.

Clark, meanwhile, was spiraling.

Secret identity? IN DANGER.

Because sure, he knew that was him in that photo. But how long before someone else started to put the pieces together? How long before some overenthusiastic tabloid reporter started connecting Superman’s suspicious interest in Y/N with Clark’s own?

Meanwhile, Y/N was still having the time of her life.

“Clark,” she sighed dramatically, folding the paper to her chest. “Will you be my maid of honor at the wedding? I know it's usually reserved for women, but I can make an exception.”

Clark malfunctioned. “The what?”

“The wedding, Clark,” she said patiently, like she was explaining basic math. “Me. Superman. Destiny.”

Lois gasped, leaning forward. “Oh my God, Y/N. Are you proposing?”

“Not yet,” Y/N mused. “I gotta lock down the venue first. Can’t have the wedding of the century without the proper ambiance, you know?”

Clark looked between them, stunned. “You cannot be serious.”

Y/N reached over and patted his arm. “Don’t be jealous, Clark. I’ll still love you after I marry Superman.”

Lois lost it.

Clark, seconds away from spontaneous combustion, tried to form literally any words.

“I—you—that’s not—”

Y/N flipped the newspaper open again, humming thoughtfully. “I wonder if he’d let me wear the cape at the wedding.”

“STOP,” Clark begged.

Y/N grinned. “You’re right, I’ll get my veil to be made to look like it instead.”

Lois, gasping for breath: “Please. Please let this happen.”

Clark ran a hand down his face, this was too close. He needed to do something. 

–

Clark started pulling away in small ways at first.

It was subtle, barely noticeable—an extra second before answering her texts, a lingering hesitation before making eye contact, a few too many "I can’t tonight" excuses when Y/N invited him over.

But Y/N noticed.

She always noticed.

It wasn’t just the distance, it was him. Clark, who had never hesitated to walk beside her, who had always been there when she needed him, was recoiling. She’d reach out, and he’d step back. She’d joke, and he’d force a smile, but the warmth wasn’t there. And the worst part? He wouldn’t tell her why.

So she did what any rational person would do—she doubled down.

If Clark Kent thought he could slip away unnoticed, he clearly hadn’t met her.

She was relentless, inserting herself into his life at every opportunity. If he wasn’t answering texts fast enough, she showed up at his desk. If he was too busy for lunch, she brought food to the bullpen and refused to leave. If he claimed he had too much work, she sat there in silence, tapping her nails against his desk until he looked up with that frustrated little sigh he did when she was being impossible.

"Kent," she greeted him one evening, dropping a takeout bag on his desk before plopping into the chair across from him. "Dinner. Eat."

Clark barely glanced up. "I’m busy."

"Wow. No ‘thank you, Y/N, you’re so thoughtful, how do you always know exactly what I like to eat’?" She gasped dramatically. "You wound me, Clark."

He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Y/N—"

"Don’t ‘Y/N’ me, mister." She kicked her feet up on the desk, watching him with sharp, knowing eyes. "I’m your best friend, and I have been so patient, but I’m done pretending I don’t notice."

Clark stiffened. "Notice what?"

Her brow lifted. "This. You, being weird."

Clark swallowed, shifting in his chair. "I’m not—"

"Yes, you are," she interrupted, pointing at him with a fry. "You’ve been acting strange ever since I made the front page with Superman. Which, by the way, iconic of me."

Clark groaned, shutting his eyes. "Y/N—"

She wasn’t done. "You’ve been avoiding me, Clark. Pulling back. And before you say it’s my imagination, Lois noticed too."

Clark inhaled sharply. Lois had noticed? Great. That just made everything worse.

Y/N crossed her arms, her expression softer now, real. "Did I do something wrong?"

Clark’s heart clenched. "No," he said immediately, because that much was true.

"Then what?" she pressed. "Talk to me."

Clark clenched his jaw, looking away. He wanted to tell her. He wanted to explain that he was scared, that the idea of someone—anyone—connecting Superman to Clark Kent through her was keeping him up at night. That it wasn’t just about keeping his identity safe anymore—it was about her.

She was too close now. Too familiar.

The way she fit into Smallville like she’d been there forever, the way she wore his flannel like it belonged to her, the way she had stood in the barn, glowing gold, calling yellow safe.

It had wrecked him.

And then she kissed Superman’s cheek, completely unaware that it had also been him, and suddenly, his whole existence felt like a cruel joke.

He was losing his grip on the boundary between Clark, Kal, and Superman, and Y/N was standing right in the middle of it, unknowingly blurring the lines just by being herself.

And if someone else noticed? If someone put the pieces together and figured out that Superman spent too much time watching over one person?

It wasn’t him he was afraid for.

It was her.

But he couldn’t tell her any of that.

So instead, he looked down, pretending to be focused on his work, and muttered, "You’re overthinking it."

Y/N stared at him. Then let out a soft, humorless laugh. "Wow."

Clark glanced up, and the look on her face almost made him break right then and there.

"That’s it?" she said, shaking her head. "That’s all you’ve got for me?"

Clark swallowed, forcing himself to stay still. If he bent even a little, she’d get through, and he couldn’t let that happen.

Y/N studied him for a long moment, searching his face like she could will the truth out of him. When she realized he wasn’t going to budge, something in her expression shifted.

"Okay," she said finally, standing.

Clark exhaled, relief flickering in his chest—until she leaned down, bracing her hands on his desk, her face way too close to his.

"You might be done with me, Kent," she said, her voice deceptively sweet, "but I am not done with you."

Clark’s breath hitched. "Y/N—"

And then she walked away.

Clark sat there, completely still, watching her go.

He should have felt victorious. He had pushed her away, made the distance clear.

Clark sat there for a long time after Y/N left.

The newsroom hummed around him—phones ringing, reporters shouting, the clatter of keyboards filling the air—but he felt like he was somewhere else. Somewhere weightless, untethered.

He stared at his half-eaten takeout, at the one fry she had stolen, at the chair she had been sitting in just moments ago.

He was doing the right thing. He had to. The more distance he put between them, the safer she’d be. The less anyone could connect Superman to her.

Then why did it feel like he had just lost something?

Before he could spiral any further, his phone buzzed.

''''

Y/N: have your tantrum but wrap it up before my launch party tomorrow. Y/N: party’s at 6. i will see you at my apartment at 5.

''''

Clark let out a slow breath, running a hand down his face.

Of course she wasn’t giving up.

Of course she had already decided he would be there, regardless of what he thought about it.

And the worst part?

She was right.

–

Clark showed up at exactly 5:00 PM.

Not a second earlier, not a second later. Because despite the distance he had tried to create, despite the weeks of careful avoidance, despite all the ways he’d tried to push her away—he was still Clark, and Y/N had asked him to be here.

So here he was.

He lifted his hand to knock, but before he could, the door swung open.

And there she was.

Clark’s breath caught.

Y/N stood before him, framed by the warm glow of the apartment lights, looking—God—more beautiful than ever. Her dress was simple but elegant, something that clung just enough to remind him that she had always carried herself like she belonged anywhere. Her makeup was subtle, a touch of color on her lips, a hint of gold around her eyes.

But it wasn’t just how she looked. It was the way she beamed at him like she had won.

"Right on time, Kent," she mused, leaning against the doorframe. "Very off-brand."

Clark swallowed, forcing himself to exhale, to ignore the way the sight of her made something deep inside him ache.

"You invited me for five," he said simply.

Y/N grinned, stepping back to let him in. "Of course I did. Now, are you done with your tantrum?"

Clark huffed a quiet laugh despite himself. "I was not having a tantrum."

She snorted, closing the door behind him. "Right. You just happened to be all broody and distant and emotionally unavailable right after I made the front page kissing Superman." She crossed her arms, giving him a pointed look. "Totally unrelated."

Clark exhaled, shaking his head. "You cannot seriously believe those tabloids."

"Why not?" she teased, nudging him as she walked past. "I think it’s a great look for me. My dating history needed a little razzle-dazzle."

Clark sighed, following her as she led him up to the rooftop.

The evening air was warm, the city skyline stretching out in glowing golden hues, the lights of Metropolis twinkling against the deepening blue sky. The rooftop had been transformed—soft lanterns strung across the open space, sleek cocktail tables dressed in deep blue and gold, flowers arranged in elegant bursts of color. The setup was so Y/N—effortlessly beautiful, but never overdone.

She turned to him, arms wide. "Well? Thoughts?"

Clark glanced around, nodding. "It looks amazing."

She grinned. "Damn right, it does."

Clark let himself smile, just for a second, just before the weight of the past few weeks settled between them again.

Y/N must have felt it too because she softened, stepping closer. "You know," she mused, tilting her head, "for all your brooding, I’m glad you came."

Clark swallowed. "You asked me to."

"I did," she agreed. "And that means you can’t run away again."

Clark stiffened, but Y/N just smirked, nudging him lightly. "C’mon, let’s do a final walkthrough before people start showing up. I need to make sure nothing’s gone to hell in my absence."

Clark let her pull him along, listening as she went on about seating arrangements and drink menus, half-distracted by the way the sunset caught in her hair.

For a moment, it was almost easy. Almost like things hadn’t changed.

And then—

"Shut up, Kal," Y/N muttered lightly, laughing at some joke he barely remembered making.

Clark froze.

His entire body went rigid, his breath catching hard in his chest. The rooftop, the city, the fading warmth of the sun—it all disappeared in an instant.

Y/N didn’t notice at first, still smiling, still teasing.

Then she turned, and her face dropped.

Clark was shaking.

"I hate when you call me that," he said, voice raw, like the words were being ripped from him. "Kal was such a mistake."

Y/N’s lips parted, eyes widening. "Clark—"

"I ruined so much by running away from Smallville like a coward," he went on, his voice rising, filled with something wild and self-loathing. "I was selfish, I—I let you believe I was someone else, and then I left—" He stopped himself, running a hand through his hair, breathing unevenly. "Don’t call me that."

Y/N’s throat bobbed, her expression stricken. "Okay," she said softly.

Clark turned away, pressing his hands to his temples. His heart was pounding, a tight, panicked beat against his ribs. He had held it in for so long, buried it beneath every excuse, every careful step backward, every forced distance—

And now it was out.

Now it was all out.

Y/N took a step toward him, but something in Clark’s posture must have stopped her, because she didn’t touch him. Didn’t argue.

She just stood there.

And Clark—Clark had to leave.

Because if he stayed, he might say something else, something worse, something he could never take back.

So he didn’t think. Didn’t look at her.

He just walked away.

Down the stairs, out the building, into the streets of Metropolis.

And for the first time in his life—Superman ran.

–

The party had gone off without a hitch.

Y/N had made sure of it.

Years of PR training, of flashing a superstar smile on command, of perfecting the art of looking unshakable even when she was breaking beneath the surface—it had all paid off tonight. She had laughed, she danced, she answered questions about the album with practiced ease, had toasted with people who barely mattered, had thanked people she didn’t even know.

The one person she had wanted there had left.

And it had taken everything in her to not let that ruin her night.

She had spent an hour before the party in the bathroom, gripping the sink, staring at her reflection in the mirror, repeating to herself that it didn’t matter. That Clark leaving didn’t mean anything. That she had spent years building herself up, learning how to be on her own, how to survive in a world that didn’t care if she fell apart.

So she had smoothed out her dress, fixed her makeup, and walked out of the bathroom looking effortless, dazzling, untouchable.

Now, the party was long over.

It was well past midnight, the album had been dropped, and Y/N was alone.

The apartment felt too big, the silence pressing in on her in a way that the noise of the party had kept at bay. She had kicked off her heels an hour ago, abandoning them somewhere in the living room. The dress—once elegant and poised—now felt suffocating, so she had undone the zipper, letting it slip off her shoulders, leaving her in nothing but an oversized shirt as she wandered aimlessly through her space.

She opened another bottle of wine.

She’d lost count of how many she had already had tonight, but it didn’t really matter.

Taking a slow sip, she walked onto the patio, letting the night air cool the heat lingering on her skin. The city stretched out before her, glittering and alive, but she had never felt further from it.

Her fingers drummed idly against the wine glass as she leaned on the railing, her other hand resting against her stomach, pressing against the emptiness there.

He left.

The thought snuck in before she could stop it, curling into her chest, winding tight like a knot in her ribs.

He had just walked away.

And the worst part was that she hadn’t even argued.

Because she had seen it.

She had seen the anger in his face, the way his voice had cracked, the way his entire body had tensed when she had called him Kal. She had thought it was just another nickname, just another way to tease him.

She hadn’t realized it hurt him.

Hadn’t realized it carried weight, that it meant something deeper than she could possibly understand.

And now he was gone.

A bitter laugh bubbled up in her throat as she swirled the wine in her glass. "Classic," she muttered to no one.

Y/N let the wind rush over her, cool against her flushed skin, a welcome contrast to the warmth pooling in her stomach from the wine.

The city stretched out endlessly below her, lights twinkling, cars moving like tiny flickering embers in the streets. From up here, everything looked small, distant—manageable.

She set her wine glass down on the railing, steadying it before she climbed up, her bare feet balancing against the cool metal edge.

The wind whipped past her, tangling in her hair, sending a thrill down her spine.

She closed her eyes, tilting her head back, laughing softly to herself.

The alcohol buzzed pleasantly in her veins, blurring the edges of her thoughts, making her feel light, untethered. She swayed slightly, spreading her arms out, feeling free—

Then the dizziness hit.

The world tilted.

And before she could even register the fall, before the fear could even set in—

Strong arms caught her.

The rush of wind was suddenly gone, replaced by something steady, something solid, something safe.

Her breath hitched, her heart pounding as she opened her eyes, blinking up into the face of Superman.

His expression was devastated.

"What the hell are you doing?" his voice was rough, barely above a whisper, but laced with something frantic.

Y/N blinked, her mind still trying to catch up.

She was no longer on the railing. She was in his arms, against his chest, suspended in the air like she weighed nothing.

"Oh," she breathed, realization settling in.

Superman tightened his grip, his jaw clenched so hard she thought it might break. "You almost—" His voice broke slightly, his arms tensing around her. "What were you thinking?"

Y/N frowned, still a little dazed. "I wasn’t," she admitted, voice softer now. "I—I was just enjoying the wind, and then I…"

She trailed off, staring at him, at the way his chest rose and fell, far too fast, like he had just been through something terrifying.

Like he had been scared.

Her brow furrowed. "You caught me."

Superman let out a shaky breath, his fingers flexing slightly before pulling her closer, like he couldn’t bear to let go yet. "Of course I did."

Y/N exhaled slowly, resting her forehead against his shoulder for just a second, the reality of what could have happened crashing down on her all at once.

She had almost fallen.

And he had saved her.

Again.

Y/N’s breath was still unsteady, her head spinning—not just from the wine, not just from the near fall, but from him.

Superman.

Kal.

Clark.

The alcohol blurred the details of his face, softening the hard angles, causing something to click in her mind, something that had been lurking in the shadows for years, just out of reach. The blurred details matched the fuzzy specifics of Kal in her mind exactly. 

It was him.

It had always been him.

She had spent so long trying to remember Kal’s face, always just a little too hazy, a little too out of focus. But now, held in Superman’s arms, staring at him from this close—she knew.

And something inside her broke.

She shoved at his chest. "Put me down!"

Superman—Clark—Kal—whoever the hell he was—startled, hesitating just long enough before he landed smoothly back on the patio, setting her down on shaking legs.

The second her feet hit the ground, she exploded.

"How dare you!" she yelled, voice thick, raw, furious.

Superman flinched. "Y/N—"

"How dare you," she repeated, jabbing a finger into his chest, stepping forward, forcing him back. "Kal was a mistake? He hurt people? That’s what you said, right?" She laughed, but it wasn’t amused—it was wrecked. "He was selfish? He ran away?"

Superman didn’t answer.

Because he couldn’t.

Because she wasn’t wrong.

Y/N clenched her fists, her voice shaking with something close to betrayal. "Kal is the only reason I was able to keep going back then. Do you know that? Do you? He was reckless, yeah. He was an idiot, sure. But he—you—" She exhaled sharply, pressing her hands to her temples before snapping her gaze back up to him. "How dare you say he was a mistake."

Clark swallowed, his throat tight. "Y/N…"

"I accept every stupid part of you, Clark Kent," she spat, not caring how broken it sounded, not caring that her voice wavered, not caring that she was throwing herself off a cliff with no parachute. "Every single one. And you have the nerve to stand there and tell me that the one I got to know first was just—what? Some awful, shameful version of you?"

Clark’s breath hitched.

She stepped closer, glaring up at him, her eyes burning. "I don’t care if Kal was the darkest part of you. He was still you. And now you stand here—you stand here—and you tell me he was a mistake?" Her voice cracked. "That you were a mistake?"

Clark felt like the wind had been knocked out of him.

Because how? How?

How had she put it together?

Has she always known? Was she just saying this because she was drunk? Would she remember in the morning?

Would she still look at him like this if she did?

Y/N let out a sharp breath, tilting her head back, staring at the sky like it had answers she couldn’t find. "God, Clark," she whispered, voice suddenly exhausted. "You are so—so unbelievably stupid."

He didn’t realize his hands were shaking until he clenched them into fists.

He had to get her inside.

"Come on," he muttered, ignoring the burn in his chest as he reached for her wrist.

Y/N yanked it away. "Don’t touch me."

Something deeply irrational inside him flinched at that, but he swallowed it down, his jaw tight as he turned and walked inside, expecting her to follow.

She did.

But not quietly.

She raged the entire way down the hall, muttering, cursing him under her breath, pacing as he led her toward her bedroom. She shoved at his shoulder more than once—not enough to actually move him, but enough to make a point.

She was still cursing at him as he pulled back the blankets, still ranting as he placed a glass of water on the nightstand.

"I cannot believe you right now," she huffed, crawling into bed, still glaring. "You—of all people—thinking you get to decide which version of yourself is worth loving."

Clark stiffened.

Y/N turned onto her side, grabbing a pillow and chucking it at him.

It hit him square in the chest.

He sighed.

"Sleep," he muttered, moving to step away.

And then—

Her hand wrapped around his wrist.

He froze.

Y/N’s fingers were warm against his skin, trembling just slightly.

"Stay," she murmured, barely above a whisper.

And God—God, he wanted to.

More than anything.

But he couldn’t.

Not after this.

Not after everything she had just torn open.

So, with every ounce of willpower he had left, Superman gently, slowly removed her hand from his wrist.

And he walked away. 

(Y/N threw another pillow at his retreating form.)

–

Clark hadn’t slept.

Not a single second.

He had spent the entire night staring at his ceiling, his mind running itself ragged, trying to process what had happened on Y/N’s rooftop. The way she had put it together. How did she always put things together? The way she had yelled at him, not out of anger for his lies but something deeper, something more real. The way she had grabbed his wrist and whispered stay and—

He squeezed his eyes shut. No.

He left. He made the right call.

Even if it hurt.

A soft click echoed through the apartment, and his entire body went rigid.

Because of course.

Of course she was here.

Clark didn’t even have to use his x-ray vision  to know it was her.

The way she walked, the light tread of her steps, the way she didn’t hesitate for even a second before waltzing right in like she belonged. Which, to be fair, she did. Because Y/N had a key. Because she owned the damn building.

Clark sighed, rubbing a hand down his face, listening as she locked the door behind her.

"Clark?" her voice called from the kitchen, casual, like she hadn’t torn his entire world apart last night.

Clark inhaled sharply, staring at the ceiling. Pretend to be asleep? No, she’d just sit on you until you talked. Fake being sick? She’d call Ma. Run out the window? You’re not that desperate.

He exhaled through his nose. "Bedroom," he called back, resigned.

Seconds later, she appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame, grinning.

"Rise and shine, sunshine."

Clark groaned, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. "Y/N, it’s—" He turned his head to glance at the clock. "Six in the morning."

"Bright and early!" she announced, stepping inside like she owned the place. Which, again, she did.

Clark just sighed, rolling to sit up. "Why are you here?"

Y/N crossed her arms. "Because you left."

Clark clenched his jaw, saying nothing.

"So," she continued, plopping herself onto the edge of the bed, completely unfazed, "are we talking about it? Or do I have to dramatically monologue until you crack?"

Clark exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. "You’re not letting this go, are you?"

She gave him an unimpressed look. "Have we met?"

A humorless chuckle escaped him, but it faded fast.

There was no escaping this conversation.

So, finally, finally, he talked.

He told her everything.

About the meteor shower. About how Martha and Jonathan Kent found him, raised him, made him Clark instead of some lost, nameless alien. About the powers, about the way he had spent his entire life trying to control them, trying to fit.

And then—he told her about the red kryptonite.

About the ring. About the choice he made, the way he had willingly put it on, because he had felt like a burden, like he had ruined things in Smallville, like running away was the only option.

How he had left behind everything—his parents, his home, his name.

How he had let himself become Kal.

Y/N listened through all of it, her expression unreadable, never interrupting.

Then, after a long pause, she blinked and said, "So you weren’t on drugs?"

Clark stared at her.

Y/N shrugged. "Sorry, that whole ‘red rock makes me reckless and angry’ thing definitely sounds like you were on some alien crack, Clark."

Despite himself, Clark let out a breath of a laugh.

But it didn’t last.

Because then Y/N reached out, her fingers brushing against the back of his hand, soft, warm, steady.

"I meant what I said yesterday," she murmured.

Clark tensed.

She squeezed his hand. "I don’t care if it was the darkest part of you, Clark," she said softly, looking straight at him, straight through him. "It was still you."

Clark swallowed, his throat tight.

And then—he pulled away.

Y/N’s fingers curled into empty air, and her expression dropped.

Clark exhaled slowly, staring at the sheets, willing himself to not look at her face, because if he did, he’d break.

"It’s too dangerous," he murmured. "I’m too unpredictable."

Y/N shook her head. "Clark—"

"If someone connects the dots," he cut her off, his voice hoarse, "if someone figures it out—" He clenched his fists. "You’ll be in trouble."

Y/N stared at him for a long, long moment.

Then—softly, but firmly—

"I was always going to be in trouble."

Clark finally looked up.

Y/N tilted her head slightly, her eyes searching his face. "Because it’s you," she said simply. "And it was always going to be you."

Y/N sat there, staring at him, waiting for something—anything.

A word. A look. A reaction.

But Clark wouldn’t even meet her eyes.

He just sat there, his shoulders tight, his hands clenched into the sheets, staring at the floor like if he ignored her long enough, she’d just go away.

And maybe before—maybe once upon a time—she would have.

But not this time.

This time, she was done.

Her heart sank, settling like lead in her stomach, dragging every part of her down with it.

"Clark," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Look at me."

He didn’t.

She swallowed hard, her throat tightening, her fingers curling into fists against her thighs.

"If I get up and walk out that door right now," she said, slow and deliberate, "this is it."

Clark’s breathing hitched.

"I mean it," she pressed, voice breaking just slightly. "I am so—so tired of chasing after you. Of watching you leave. Of always being the one left standing there, wondering if this time is the last time."

Clark’s eyes squeezed shut.

She inhaled sharply, her nails digging into her palms. "You want to keep pushing me away? Fine." Her voice shook. "But if I walk out of here, Clark? I’m not coming back."

Silence.

Thick, heavy, suffocating.

Clark still wouldn’t look at her.

Y/N felt the final thread snap.

She stood up.

And when she walked away this time—she meant it.

–

Y/N doesn’t say goodbye. Not to him, not to the city, not to the version of herself that waited, hoped, believed. She boarded a plane with nothing but her luggage.

She won’t beg.

She told him. She gave him the choice. If I leave, I’m not coming back. And still, he let her go.

So she does what she does best—she moves forward.

The tour is massive, bigger than anything she’s ever done before. Sold-out arenas, flashing cameras, the deafening sound of thousands of voices screaming her name. Every city is brighter, louder, bigger than the last. She lets herself get lost in it, drowns in the chaos of the road, the high of the stage, the endless cycle of movement that keeps her from thinking too much.

She doesn’t stop. Not once.

Early mornings bleed into late nights. Rehearsals stretch into interviews, meet-and-greets blur into hurried flights. She spends hours in dressing rooms, in hotel suites, in tour buses that never stay parked long enough to feel like home. The lights are blinding, the music is deafening, and for the first time in a long time, she lets them be.

Because in the quiet moments, when the adrenaline fades, she feels it.

The absence.

Not just his, but something deeper. Something she didn’t even realize was there until it was gone.

The feeling of being seen.

Being understood.

Because even before she knew, he knew. Even before she said it, he heard it.

And now?

Now, she’s screaming her soul into a microphone in front of seventy thousand people, and he’s not there to hear it.

She tells herself she’s fine.

She has to be.

But when she’s alone—really alone, with no stage, no flashing lights, no roaring crowd to drown out the silence—all she sees is his face. The way he looked at her as she turned to leave. The way his jaw clenched, his hands curled into fists, like he was fighting something inside himself. Like he wanted to stop her, but couldn’t, or wouldn’t.

She dreams of a different time, a different version of them.

Of a penthouse apartment in a part of Metropolis that no longer exists.

Of laughter in a too-warm room, a sturdy couch, a boy with blue eyes who wasn’t afraid to be quiet with her.

Of late nights spent with Kal when the world felt smaller, when she wasn’t famous and he wasn’t a hero, and all that mattered was the sound of their breathing in the dark. Of late night spent with Clark, listening to him breathe while she looked around his childhood room.

She dreams of the way he used to look at her, before she knew who he really was, before she knew who she really was. When things were simpler. When she didn’t have to wonder if she was asking too much just by existing in the same space as him.

She wakes up in a different city every time, in another luxury hotel bed, in another room that isn’t home.

And she tells herself she’s fine.

She has to be.

–

Clark Kent had been miserable. At first, he tried to convince himself it was just an adjustment period. He’d always been able to handle changes, right? But nothing worked.

He threw himself into work, into farm chores, into being Superman—anything to numb the ache that had been festering in his chest. But it didn’t work.

Because Y/N was everywhere.

Every time he turned on the TV, there she was—on a late-night show, laughing like everything was perfect. He walked past a newsstand and saw her face, always smiling, always glowing. Her face was all over billboards, magazines, and TV screens. He couldn’t escape her, no matter how hard he tried.

And the worst part? She looked happy.

At least, that’s what it seemed like.

He watched, of course. Every night. His parents would ask about her, and he’d change the subject quickly, pretending like it didn’t bother him. He’d tell them he was doing fine, but the truth was, at 3 AM, he was under the covers, glued to his laptop, watching her interviews on repeat. He would click on every grainy livestream of her concerts, sometimes watching them until the screen went black, just so he could pretend he was there, part of her world again.

His parents had asked him once, “Clark, why don’t you just call her? She’d love to hear from you.”

But he couldn't even look them in the eye.

He felt like an idiot.

On bad days, he even talked to Moo Moo, as if it could understand. “Do you think she thinks about me too?” he’d mutter to the stuffed cow, his voice cracking like he was confessing to a priest. He would hold it up to his face, as though it might whisper something wise or comforting in return, but of course, it never did. Moo Moo just stared back with those vacant, stitched eyes, silent and unyielding, like the judgmental little plush it was. He could almost hear the judgment now: pathetic.

He hid Moo Moo under the bed after that. 

The moment that broke him came one night when he caught a clip of Y/N on a red carpet interview. She was asked, “Do you believe in soulmates?”

Y/N had smiled, effortlessly radiant as always, and replied, “I don’t think about that stuff anymore. I think some people are meant to find each other. But staying? That’s a choice.”

Clark had shut his laptop so quickly, the screen flickering off in the dim light of his room.

Because she had been talking about him.

And she was right. He’d let her slip away. He’d let her go without ever telling her the truth. And now he was left here, a mess of tangled sheets, a stuffed cow clutched in his arms, watching her live her life from the sidelines, wishing he could do something—anything—to make it right.

–

Lois was the one who finally snapped.

One morning, she slammed a flyer down on his desk so hard it made his coffee spill.

Clark blinked. “What—”

“Get your shit together, Smallville.”

Clark picked up the flyer.

Y/N : FINAL TOUR STOP – METROPOLIS – SOLD OUT.

His stomach twisted.

Lois crossed her arms. “This is it. Last show. Last chance. Either go after her, or accept that you’re a coward.”

Clark didn’t hesitate.

–

He went as Clark, not Superman.

No powers, no cape—just a desperate man pulling whatever strings he could to get a backstage pass. The show had been sold out for months, but Clark finally snagged a press pass by telling Perry he will work free overtime for the next 6 years. 

It was terrifying.

Because if this didn’t work—if she really was fine, if she really had moved on—then what was left for him?

But by the time he got there, she was already gone.

“Y/N?” He pushed past crew members. “Did she leave already?”

Someone glanced up. “Yeah. Didn’t say where.”

Clark’s chest squeezed.

No. No, no, no—

And then—

Leaving through a side door, he saw it.

A blonde wig.

The most ridiculous, unhinged, Hollywood-starlet wig he had ever seen.

Clark exhaled sharply. His hands clenched.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

–

She was walking down a quiet side street, head tilted toward the sky, looking lost in thought.

Clark, still slightly breathless, stepped into the alley and said, low and familiar—

“Don’t you know what happens to pretty girls in dark alleys?”

Y/N stopped.

Slowly, she turned.

The wig was crooked. The sunglasses were oversized. And even with half her face covered, he could feel the cold shift in the air.

No teasing. No quippy comeback.

Her lips pressed together. Her jaw was tight.

Clark realized he had never seen her look at him like this.

She let out a slow breath. “Why are you here?”

His throat went dry.

“I was wrong,” he said, voice rough. “About everything.”

Nothing. No reaction.

So he took a step forward.

“I tried to move on,” he admitted. “Told myself I had to let you go. That it was the right thing. But I was miserable. And you—” He let out a shaky breath. “You were everywhere. You were everything”

Y/N stayed still, expression unreadable.

Clark exhaled, hands clenching into fists.

“You were right,” he said softly. “I spent my whole life trying to separate parts of myself. Deciding which version of me was worth keeping.” His throat tightened. “I was terrified that if you saw all of me, you’d leave.”

She inhaled sharply. “Clark—”

“But the truth is, I left you.”

Silence.

Clark swallowed hard.

“I don’t deserve another chance,” he whispered. “But if there’s even a part of you that still—”

Y/N took a step forward.

Clark stopped breathing.

She pulled off the wig, let it drop to the ground, and crossed her arms.

“Oh, you’re gonna grovel for this,” she said.

Clark let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

A long pause.

Then—

“Say it again,” she said.

Clark blinked. “What?”

“Say you were wrong.”

Clark exhaled.

“I was wrong.”

“Louder.”

“I was wrong.”

Y/N’s lips twitched. “Not bad. Keep going.”

Clark ran a hand down his face. “I was an idiot.”

She arched an eyebrow. “And?”

Clark looked at her—really looked at her.

“I never stopped loving you.”

Y/N stilled.

Clark inhaled.

“I love you,” he said, steady now. “I think I loved you when you slept on my couch and were the only thing that stopped the voices in my head. I think I loved you when you got up to feed the damn pigs even though they tackled you. I think I loved you even before you made me realize Kal and Clark were the same person.”

Her eyes glistened.

Clark swallowed.

“But I know I love you now.”

Silence.

Then—

Y/N rolled her eyes.

“God, it took you long enough.”

Clark let out a breathless laugh, his heart pounding.

“You really mean it?” she asked.

Clark nodded. “Yeah.”

Y/N hummed.

Then she grabbed him by the collar and kissed him.

Clark barely had time to react before she pulled back, lips curling into a smile.

“Okay,” she announced. “You’re forgiven.”

Clark, completely wrecked, could only blink.

Y/N patted his chest. “Now come on. You owe me a very expensive dinner.”

Clark let out a soft, disbelieving laugh.

She was walking ahead, waiting for him.

And this time?

He chased after her.

–

Bonus

–

As they walked, Clark glanced at the wig still lying on the pavement.

He raised an eyebrow. “You know that thing was so obvious, right?”

Y/N, without missing a beat, said, “You wear glasses as a disguise.”

Clark opened his mouth. Closed it.

Then—he groaned.

Y/N smirked.

"Yeah. That’s what I thought, Glasses."

--

a/n: that was the end!! i hope you all enjoyed reading

i have so many deleted scenes in my google docs that i will make blurbs out of. let me know if you have any blurb ideas :)