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galaxy-fleur · 3 days ago
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⋆Midnight Rendezvous⋆
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Pairing: Post-RE4R!Leon/gn!reader.
Summary: It's only natural to miss and long for the one you love, regardless of how accustomed you are to being apart from them. One lucky phone call can mean so much more when it's an unexpected surprise. For you and Leon alike. Or: Quick smutty drabble for @thatpyramidthing that turned into a one-shot, which then turned into a full-blown fic. Oops!
Word Count: 4k words.
Notes: Established relationship, phone sex, mutual masturbation, smut with feelings. Suspension of disbelief because people were not using their phones like this in 2000's lmao.
Credit: Divider by @/saradika-graphics
For you and Leon, spending extended periods of time apart was not an exception but rather a tried-and-true routine. That was just the nature of his job, and it couldn't be fought or challenged, only accepted and adapted to accordingly. The only thing you could do was cherish what time you did get to spend together.
This particular assignment of his was the same as any other. While you had no expectations for him to call, you can't help but beam once you see his name appear on your phone screen. Waisting no time at all, you quickly fall back into bed and answer the phone, feeling a little bit too excited for what is likely going to be a brief check-in given how busy he is normally when he's gone. Still, him calling at all is enough for your heart to race, and although it was late at night, you didn't mind at all.
For him, you'd jump up at 4 am if you had to.
"-Hey."
It's painfully obvious he has no idea what to say, probably just wanting to hear you speak more than anything else. The sound of his voice ringing in your ear makes you smile a little, even if his greeting was almost comically abrupt. Then again, you did not expect him to make a lovey-dovey speech for you or anything. That's just not the type of man Leon was, and you had no qualms with that. Moreover, he was probably very tired, anyway. You weren't about to complain over him not sounding joyful enough when he already made the effort to call you in the first place.
"Hi," you reply, shifting to lay flat on your back, your gaze staring up at the ceiling. Without his warm body here to cuddle up to, your bed felt a bit too large for your liking. However, expressing such a thought outloud was way too sappy-sounding, even for you. So, you kept the sentiment to yourself. "Did not expect you to call. Did you get a free moment?"
An ocean away, Leon slouches into his own hotel bed, cluttered with belongings haphazardly thrown abound with not much care for hospitality, his phone in his hand. What he does know, however is that he wanted, no, needed you to be over here, with him, right now. But, alas, that's a wish too ambitious to be granted. So he settles for the next best thing. And hearing your voice is definitely no reason to complain about.
He takes a deep breath, almost feeling as if his physical distance from you is the main cause of the exhaustion seeping into his bones. He missed your voice, touch, even your scent. It wasn't until he spoke to you again that he realized how much he had missed you.
"Yeah, I was surprised, too. The job's done, but they can't take me back to base yet because of the weather. So I'm just stuck here until further notice." He hesitates for a moment before adding, his voice taking on a more softer tone: "…Are you in the mood to keep me company?"
"-Is that even a question?" You laugh slightly, shaking your head, although he obviously couldn't see it from a phone call. Your reaction causes him to smile and chuckle to himself as well. God, he missed hearing you laugh. "How your mission went, by the way? Everything okay?"
Really, mission talk? His expectations were slightly higher than that.
"It was fine. Same bullshit. A bunch of bastards getting what they deserve." A part of him almost wants to act as though he's not truly alone in this dimly lit room, so he lets out another breath and turns over to lie on his stomach. It was hard to feel cozy when nothing about this place felt like home. Your voice helped with that, though. "I'm more interested in talking to you."
He hears you laugh under your breath again at his unenthusiastic answer. It wasn't necessary for him to say it outloud for you to understand that he was not interested in discussing work. Not that you blame him.
"The feeling's mutual, trust me," you murmur, a small smile audible in your voice. "Not to rush things before they happen, but I've been planning on making that braised steak for you when you get back. You know, the one you liked on Thanksgiving."
The notion of some homemade food instantly makes him feel a little more excited. The mere thought causes his tired eyes to light up a bit and his mouth to water. Guess men really don't need much to be happy, huh? What can he say, few things bring as much joy as a homemade meal from the one you love. Especially when he compares it to quick tasteless meals he got by with on the job.
"Oh really now?" His voice now has a somewhat lighter lilt to it, his words gradually regaining some of their emotion. "-Because that sounds like you're trying to butter me up for something."
He teases, but the excitement in his voice is very much genuine. You laugh, this time a muffled giggle, and the sound promts a small, warm smile to make its way onto his lips as he closes his eyes and concentrates solely on your voice through the speaker. This was nice.
"Is it so odd that I want to treat you to something?"
"-No, it's not odd. It's sweet. I appreciate it. I really do," he corrects softly, quietly expressing his appreciation. For a man who has endured far too much hardship for his age, it was refreshing to have someone care for him in such a simple yet meaningful way. After a brief peaceful pause, he speaks again in a somewhat quieter voice, nervously drumming his fingers on the bedsheets: "...Hey, can I ask... can I be a bit selfish with you for a second?"
The way he fidgets and murmurs out his request is almost bashful; it's a part of him that, all things considered, feels a little strange even to him. But he can't help it. You make him anxious, but not in the stuffy, claustrophobic way he's accustomed to. This type of anxiousness feels good. Exciting. A welcome contrast to the blood-curdling anxiety that was his unspoken partner on the job.
"How so?" You inquire, curiosity evident in your voice. You were oceans away - literally - so it's not like there was much for you two to do except talk. A part of him was honestly just going to ask you to stay on the phone with him until he falls asleep. It's a kind of a dumb request, which makes him embarrassed, but he doesn't really want to back down from it anyhow.
Leon bites his lip, slightly perplexed on how to go about it without just asking you upfront. He wasn't good at this whole 'subtlety' thing.
"I, uh… I just wanted to ask you to talk to me a little more. For a while, I mean." He pauses, lets out another sigh, and then shifts in his bed into a more comfortable position. To hell with this, he might as well just spill the beans to you now. "My mind's just filled with… crap. I’m tired. The 'I could sleep for a week straight' type of tired. But I know I’ll just end up tossing and turning for hours instead. I just... your voice would help."
You chuckle at that, the sound uplifting, as at least you're not bewildered by his request. He knows you'd gladly do a lot more than just talk for him if you were actually here. Which makes the whole separation even more difficult to deal with. He shifts onto his back, his gaze now fixed on the ceiling as he lays his head back against the pillow with a soft sigh.
"Well... I wish I could have you laying on top of me so I could play with your hair, but... I guess us just talking on the phone will have to do for now."
He feels a small, enjoyable shiver from the mental picture you conjured up for him. The sense of contentment he's always felt when you did that is something he knows by heart now. His brain always seemed to just shut itself down, nothing for him to focus on except for the sensation of your soothing touch in his hair. God knows he'd kill to have that right now.
"Yeah. You really know what to do to make me feel all better… I hate being apart like this." He shifts again, feeling a little restless due to your words and his own thoughts making him long for you ever more. He hesitates for a moment, his heart racing as he imagines your touch. If he tries hard enough, he swears he can nearly feel the ghost of your fingertips combing through his hair. "Keep going. Tell me something else."
His voice comes out a bit muffled, and he is inadvertently tightening his grip on the phone a little, almost as if it'll bring him closer to you, somehow.
"Like what?" You ask without hesitation. Well, it's better than you playing a guessing game with him, at least. You were notoriously horrible at those, anyways.
Leon takes a deep breath while he clumsily mimics your touch by idly running his fingers through his hair. His hands are not comparable to yours at all. They're rougher and completely different in size. He drops his hand back onto the sheets with a small, frustrated huff.
"Anything. Just... keep talking. Your voice, it’s…" He clears his throat and considers the precise words he should use here. He's sure on where he is going with this, either. He simply knew that he needed to hear you, and that this need was gradually developing into a full-on craving that was desperate to be satisfied. "I want to hear more of it. And... what you’d do to me if you were here."
That's subtle enough, he thinks. He's fine with you being the one to decide on the way to interpret him. He just wanted to listen to you.
But, admittedly, his brain had other ideas.
As Leon closes his eyes, his mind is racing with countless ideas, none of which are as innocent as a simple cuddle or a hand stroking through his hair. He imagines your weight settled on top of him, steadying him, your legs wrapped around his waist, your hands holding onto his shoulders as your bodies mold and move together, skin to skin, with nothing but your presence there to fill his head with. Your sweet voice whispering all the things he wants to hear, your warm breath waffling over his ear.
All the ways in which you hold him, touch him, want him.
Your voice, which sounds nearly muffled through the pleasant fog buzzing in his head, jolts him out of his fantasy.
"Oh. ...Ohhh," you draw out, the realization clear in your voice. He almost snorts in endearment. Well, at least you caught on. His heart flutters in his chest with wordless excitement as the thought causes heat to rush to his face. Nearly subconsciously, he reaches for the other side of the bed with his free hand, almost as if you would be there. Which, of course, you're not. Much to his disappointment. "We're not... talking about cuddles here, are we?"
The tone of your voice changes, and Leon's breath catches a little. He can imagine how flushed your cheeks probably look, how your heart is beating a little faster at the realization. At this point, he was too worked up to restrain himself. Besides, the cat's out of the bag now. Not much point in walking back on his own words. Biting his lip, he lets his fingers slowly slide down his abdomen as he contemplates your words. Would you be up to what he has in mind? He hopes you would.
"No. No we’re not." He reaches for his belt and slowly starts to unfasten it. The button on his jeans is next. Then the zipper. The release of some tension causes him to inhale sharply, feeling the cool air against his skin, a small shiver running up his spine. He closes his eyes. "Keep. Talking."
His tone is direct, curt, rough. It's the same one often uses on the job, perfect for giving out clear orders in the heat of the moment, but using it under these circumstances definitely hits a little different. Especially for you. He can hear your breath quicken just a tiny bit, wordlessly reassuring him that you are, indeed, just as into this as he is. He smiles a little at the thought, feeling both relieved and little amused. He can imagine you lying there, your mind running hundred miles an hour to come up with a response while holding the phone up to your ear. He wonders if your other hand is wandering south now, too.
"Well I'd, uhm..." He lets you take your time and get your bearings, not hurrying you further. Hell, he's perfectly fine with you pulling out of this if it just wasn't clicking for you. He made his intentions clear. Now it was up to you to make the call, whatever it was. On any other day, he'd be the one getting all awkward over talking of these things outloud, but today, his mind is focused solely on your voice coming through the speaker. He hears you sigh, a sound steadying, and he feels himself smile. There you go. "I'd... want to kiss you. Long. Until we're both out of breath. And you get that dazed look in your eyes. You look so beautiful when you get like that. And just from me kissing you, too."
Leon listens to every word with keen interest, his eyebrows raising as you create a vivid picture in his mind for him to mull over. It was relatively tame, but it was a good starting point. Not to mention genuine. He can almost sense the warm touch of your lips against his, the taste of you on his tongue. You calling him beautiful was a nice cherry on top, making his breathing quicken in turn.
With his movements jerkier and clumsier than usual due to the excitement that was now steadily flowing through his veins, he quickly pulls his shirt over his head. He doesn't really look where it lands, just throwing it somewhere to the side with zero regard for decency. Not like it matters.
With his eyes still closed, he moves his hand slowly down his bare chest, grazing each ridge of his abs with his fingertips before lowering it further. He tries to mimic the manner in which you would touch him from memory. It's not a flawless attempt, bit it's good enough in his books. He can't help but groan softly, finding himself wanting to press into his own touch, if only to feel even the fraction of how your affection would feel like upon his battered body.
"And then?" He prompts, his voice lower now, charged with underlying tension hanging in the air. He knows full well that you can probably sense the hunger and anticipation he's not trying very hard to conceal. He wishes he could actually see you right now. But, alas, this will have to do.
"-What are you doing right now?" Your voice breaks him out of his momentary fantasy, his heart picking up speed in his chest as he focuses on you: every little change in your breathing, the dip in your tone, the words you choose to say to him. He hears you swallow before continuing: "What would you have me do if I was there? I could... y'know, go from there."
His heart swells with affection as he laughs a little. You weren't very slick. Then again, you never were. He liked you for that. It was painstakingly clear that you were just eager to hear exactly what he was up to. He was happy you were enjoying yourself.
He moves again, lying on his side, and switching the phone to loudspeaker while resting it on the cushion next to him before sitting back up to get comfortable. His own breath comes out shakily now, charged with rising arousal. Slowly, his other, free hand moves up his stomach, stopping at his chest. He huffs softly as he imagines your touch.
"I’d… I’d have you sit here." He moves his hand up to one of his pectorals and squeezes slightly as he pictures your fingers squeezing at his flesh instead. The action, along with his imagination, makes him bite his lip again, sucking in a breath through his nose. "Right in my lap."
He can’t help letting out a quiet 'fuck...' as he imagines you on top of him, holding his face in your hands as you kiss him, long and deep. Oh, what he wouldn't give just to have you close and to feel your lips against his again. He misses you so much that it's a little humiliating, but his mind is too hazy to care. No, all he cares about is you touching his bare skin with your hands, stroking the rising flames of his desire with every cares. Lost in the fantasy of your hand taking the place of his own, his hand slides higher up and touches his chin, causing sparks to bloom on his skin as he tilts his head back. He'd be just as pliant with you here, if not even more so. Just to feel wanted by you.
His mind is buzzing from the faint sounds of your own breathing coming through the speaker, which he can hear stuttering and quickening through the delightful fog filling his head. He doesn't push you into talking if you dont want to. However, he is well aware that you are not merely listening to him while innocently laying in your bed. He knows you well enough now to catch onto your state of arousal through the change in your breathing alone. He likes the thought of you doing the same as him right now. He hears some muffled shuffling on the other end of the line, something akin to bed covers being tousled around before you reply to him.
"On your lap," you repeat, almost as if testing out the idea in your head. Your tone is tight, and he can hear you take a single steadying breath before continuing: "I'd like that."
"Good," he finds himself responding, a faint smile on his lips. It's a small encouragement, just to let you know he's very much enjoying himself. To his surprise, you continue without any further promting from him.
"-I'd love to treat you after you get back. Just have you lay back and feel good while I take care of everything. Relax. You deserve it."
Your comments cause Leon's breath to catch abruptly, and he lets out a small, trembling gasp. He was not ready to hear something like that front you right now. In the best way possible. He is able to practically sense your presence and the grounding weight of your body upon him. As he runs his hand back down his chest and over his abs, they begin to tremble slightly.
"Fuck…" He groans lowly again, his brows drawing together in concentration as he pictures you in his lap. Your warmth against his hardening length, the way your hips would push against his.
His other hand mindlessly slides down as he palms himself through his jeans, his breath stuttering at much-needed stimulation. His hips jolt to press up firmly into his touch, imagining it's your hand instead of his own. He visualizes your fingers moving slowly down his chest. You kissing him all over as you usually do, leaving a trail of warm kisses down his hips and abdomen. He shivers and curses under his breath as the heat coiling in his gut only gets stronger.
"Leon?" It takes all of his inner strength not to whimper in response to your voice, which sounds both uncertain and needy. God, you just had to say his name of all things, huh?
"Keep going. Tell me more," he pants out softly, his voice rough with need. "Would you touch me?"
You laugh at that, and the sound makes him chuckle in response, his heart strangely light in his chest despite the intimate mood. You both sound so breathless. He likes that.
"Is that even a question?" You repeat the same thing you told him just minutes prior, and he can't help but snort. You got him there, he'll give you that. Though, your lighthearted playfulness soon shifts back into hushed arousal. "...Everywhere. Would love to touch you all over."
He swallows.
"Oh yeah? Seems like we both have the same idea."
You pause for a long time, and just as he's about to encourage you to speak your mind or reassure you, you beat him to it. And, boy, do you catch him off-guard.
"Just... Imagining riding you slowly. Make us both really feel all of it, every touch. I want to kiss at your neck, too... taste your skin, feel you shiver. And have my hands roaming all over you, too. Want to treat you right. Feel you."
...Oh, damn.
Leon moans at your words as he squeezes his length through his jeans a little. You just set his mind into overdrive. It's everything he wants and more. Your hands on his skin, your lips trailing warm, open-mouthed kisses down his neck, making him forget anything and everything but you and your touch. The way your hips would move against his, slowly and sensually, drawing out the pleasure until it becomes unbearable. At this point, his dick is practically aching to be touched, throbbing in the confines of his jeans.
"Jesus," he breathes out, a small, breathless chuckle following suit. Needless to say, you have him wrapped around your finger, even miles upon miles apart. He wouldn't have it any other way. "Keep talking like that and I'll lose it."
"Maybe I want to hear you lose it," you suggest to him softly, almost like you were testing the waters with what you could say to him. The idea makes him want to laugh. You didn't need to worry about a single thing with impressing him.
He quickly reaches for the waistband of his jeans and tugs them down just enough to free himself from the stiffling fabric. He exhales a shuddering breath as cool air hits his heated skin, a sense of relief accompanying the movement. He wastes no time wrapping his fingers over his cock, slowly stroking himself, still imagining your hand in its place instead of his own. Meanwhile, his other hand slides back up his chest, following the trajectory your touch would follow according to his memory. As he imagines you playfully nibbling at the side of his neck and whispering more sickeningly sweet dirty things into his ear, he shivers and gently rolls his thumb over his nipple.
"...Wish you were here," he exhales. He's losing himself in a fantasy that you two have created thus far, and it's getting easier and easier for him to just speak without hesitation or embarrassment. "Want your hands on me. Hips, stomach, chest, cock… everywhere."
In response, he hears you whine, and his mind generously conjures up a variety of possibilities for what you may be doing at the moment, each one more provocative than the last. What he wouldn't give to touch you right now, God. To be the reason behind those lovely sounds you are making.
"-So touch yourself," you instruct, your words barely above a whisper, your breaths coming out in small, shaky puffs of air, each one shooting straight to his groin. "Touch yourself like I would touch you right now. God, I would love to feel you under my hands..."
Leon shudders at your words, his cock throbbing in his hand as he instinctively bucks up, his breath faltering. A low groan leaves his lips, in equal measure in response to you as well as his touch. This time, he imagines you watching him, your own hand on yourself as well. Your lips parted and your cheeks flushed with arousal as you look at him dutifully.
"Fuck… I am,” he pants out, his hand moving a tad faster over his length. He senses himself leaking, the tip of his cock slick with precum. He spreads it around with his thumb, squeezes at the base, and then draws his hand back up. He bites his lip to stop another moan from slipping out, though, at this point it seems to be a futile effort. He's surprised he hasn't tasted blood yet. "Your hands would feel so good right now… so much better than mine…"
"Leon..." He hears you moaning out his name, and he swears that he almost came right then and there from the sound of it alone.
His free hand slides back up to his chest, gently squeezing at one of his nipples with the tips of his fingers. He pulls at it lightly, his brain picturing your teeth instead of his fingers. His back arches up towards the touch, a low groan leaving his lips.
"Tell me… where would you touch me?" He asks, his voice strained. "Be direct."
Your breath catches, as though you're taken aback by his question. But he was greedy, and he wanted more. He could feel his insides twisting and turning in the pit of his stomach, and not in a bad way. His spiraling brain almost couldn't handle the mental image of you touching yourself while on the phone with him, even though he was doing that exact same thing.
"Your chest," you murmur breathlessly, almost like the words were stealing your breath away as you shared them with him. And yet, you went on: "I want to touch your chest. Caress you all over... Squeeze at you, play with your nipples while I kiss the side of your neck and listen to you gasp and whine. Just like you like it."
Leon instantly visualizes your touch on him and lets out a deep wanton moan.
"Yes," he exhales. "Like that. Miss you..."
"-Miss you, too... so much." His head reels as you echo those words back to him in that breathy, almost whiny tone, and his hips automatically buck up into his hand in an attempt to feel what he perceives to be your touch.
He groans softly, running his hand over his chest, more to tease than to touch. Just as you said, he circles his nipple again and rolls the hardened bud under his thumb. Squeezing it just the way you would for him if you were here. Even if it's a poor substitute for the real thing. "Your mouth, too. Want it all."
Using his precum as lube, he begins to stroke himself quicker, rougher. He moves his hand up and down his shaft, squeezing a bit at the tip before returning back to the base in a familiar technique. Seeking the increasing pleasure coiling in his gut, he thrusts his hips up into his hand.
And as he hears every tiny sound of pleasure coming from your end, his desire for more only intensifies. You seem to be enjoying yourself just as much, stuttered breaths and muffled whines flowing through the receiver. He is saddened by the fact that he cannot see you in person at this moment in all your glory. But, this will have to do.
You exhale.
"Yeah," you encourage softly, your own voice breathy and hushed with arousal. "I'm right there with you."
"-Wish you were," he gasps out, his eyes shut tight as he wills himself to somehow bring this fleeting fantasy to life, however briefly. "Would feel so much better with you here."
"I am. Just close your eyes and focus on my voice. My hands stroking you, my mouth on your skin... Whatever you want. I'll give it to you. You deserve it."
Leon's already thin breaths come out in unsteady gasps as a result of your sweet encouragements. Your breathy and needy voice is somehow making him even more aroused than he already is, if that was even possible. His free hand descends to roam over his abdomen, primarily to visualize your hands mindlessly stroking his flesh. It's maddening.
"Fuck, you are too good at this…" He pants out, his hips thrusting up into his hand. Instead of continuing to trace over his lower abdomen, his hand reaches up to comb through his hair, just like you would, the delightful sensation sending jolts of pleasure directly to his cock. "Too good to me. Want to touch you, too. Whatever you want."
In order to give himself greater room to move around without experiencing any discomfort, he spreads his legs somewhat wider. He inadvertently starts to imagine you in a position between them, your head bobbing up and down as you take him in. His cock throbs at the mere thought, another droplet of precum dripping from its tip. Oh, he's lost it completely.
He listens to you groan quietly, and the realization that his words have the same impact on you as yours do on him makes him feel proud. The sound of your pleasure creates a fuzzy sensation in his head, blocking out all thoughts but you, you, you. His mind creates a fairly realistic image of what you are doing at the moment, even while he is itching to actually see you. And, God, was that picture irresistible.
"I want that too... Want to make you feel good."
Leon slightly squeezes the base of his cock at your whispered wants, another shudder rippling through him. He is acutely aware that he is getting close now, his balls drawing up tight and a growing coil of tension simmering deep in his gut.
"-Shit, I'm so fucking close," he pants heavily, his hips thrusting up into his hand steadily. He imagines you straddling him, riding him with all you have until you are both a gasping, trembling mess. Your hands wrapped snuggly over his neck and your lovely eyes on him the whole way through. The moan that comes out of him at the thought is borderline obscene as his head falls back, hot pleasure coiling in his gut until it's borderline unbearable. He does have enough sense in him left to warn you, though, however clumsy. Or maybe ask for permission. He isn't sure, and he is far too dazed to figure it out. "Jesus, fuck, going to cum-"
"That's alright, let go, I want to hear you," you coo at him softly through shaky puffs of air, a hint of urgency laced in your words. You were obviously getting impatient yourself while listening to him enjoying himself, whether that meant you were getting close or not. Either way, it was hot. "Cum for me, Leon. Please."
He didn't need to be told twice.
It only takes him a couple more rough strokes before he comes to a halt and shudders, his cock spurting ropes of his release into his hand and stomach, a broken gasp of your name leaving his lips in a desperate mantra before the pleasure slowly subsides. He's left panting, catching his breath from the pleasurable high of his orgasm as he plops back down on the bed, letting his body relax and gather its bearings.
"Jesus Christ, that was... wow..." He exhales, his voice ragged. As his mind gradually clears from the haze of pleasure that clouded his senses moments prior, he laughs softly, his voice full of tiredness and a hint of sheepishness. He turns his head to the phone, almost like he'd see you there. "You okay? Did you...?"
...He didn't even check if you came or not. Now he kind of feels like an ass.
"Y-Yeah. Just now." Because of your stuttering breaths, your words are a little unsteady. Whether you came with him or moments after, he doesn't really care. He's just glad you were left satisfied, too. Somewhat. Really, this was still more about him than you. He should fix that next time you do this.
He lets out a soft and warm chuckle at the thought. Next time. He was already thinking of next time, huh? Either way, that familiar subtle tremor in your voice makes him smile to himself, wishing he could reach out and stroke your cheek with the back of his hand right now.
"Good. I'm... I'm glad. Got worried there for a sec." He reaches over and grabs a tissue off his nightstand to quickly clean himself up. After tossing the tissue away, he leans back against the bed, feeling completely relaxed. "That was... something. Definitely needed that. Thank you."
A pleasant sense of calm washes over him as he sighs, closing his eyes. The subtle ache in his muscles and post-organasmic bliss is a welcome contrast to the constant tension he was dealing with lately.
"Happy to hear that." While he's unable to see you, he can still hear the smile in your voice, which makes him smile in turn. You take a deep, steadying breath, some rustling following suit as you probably clean yourself up and get comfortable. He didn't prod you. It didn't feel awkward at all when you were on the line with him. Despite his wish for you to actually be here.
"...I can't wait to see you again. To actually hold you, kiss you, make up for lost time," he promises, his voice unusually soft and intimate. "Tell you what, once I get back, we'll spend a whole weekend in bed, just the two of us. No phones, no work, no distractions. Just us."
His wistful smile is accompanied by the image of you in his bed, warm and cozy as you nuzzle up to him. God knows he didn't need anything more to be happy.
"That sounds lovely. I might just hold you to that," you giggle, those same familiar playful notes making their appearance again as you both come down from your highs.
"Hey... Do you mind staying with me on the line tonight? I don't... really want to hang up," he confesses, a bit embarrassed, but unwilling to just part with you so quickly. He can't help but feel a bit clingy.
"Funny. I was about to ask you the same thing."
He laughs at that, shaking his head.
"God, I love you."
"I love you more."
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angelsfuzzyslippers · 2 days ago
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Rambles about portraits and Octavia
So I spent a lot of time staring at this shot while I was working on art
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Especially the portraits (even though I didn't draw them) and there was one in particular that really caught my eye:
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This is a bit long so I'll stick my thoughts under the cut:
This portrait fascinated me because I couldn't recall seeing one like it anywhere else. We rarely (maybe never? I'm not sure) get portraits of Stolas and Stella together without Octavia and this one stuck out to me because of the posing - Stella is full-on leaning into Stolas's space, and it's often tough for me to tell when Stella is genuinely smiling with her beak, but there's unmistakable joy on her face. At first I almost wondered if this was meant to be an indication of Stolas trying harder to fit into a mold early in their marriage, be more like the type of Prince and husband Stella expected (and that might still be the case to a degree). But then I remembered we're actually in Octavia's mind/songscape, so these portraits more likely reflect how she sees her family. These could represent what she wants her family to be, but... I kinda wonder if instead they show what Octavia thought her family already was. We know from The Circus that Stella's mistreatment of Stolas was happening before he met Blitz. But I don't think Octavia knew. In Loo-Loo Land, Stella and Stolas are making no efforts to hide their dysfunctional marriage from her, but some of her statements later in the episode when she's having her heart-to-heart with Stolas ("Home doesn't even feel like home anymore, you ruined it." "When I was a kid and my parents didn't hate each other...") to me indicate that this dysfunction is somewhat new to her, a regular occurrence by that episode (as she doesn't bat an eye at the thrown plant), but not a long-term thing that she's accustomed to, and she immediately connects it with her father flirting with Blitz. I wonder if Stolas was actually doing a great job at hiding the cracks in his marriage - until Blitz came into the picture and suddenly he lost his grip on the facade. It would certainly help explain why Octavia repeatedly pins blame on Blitz, specifically, for their issues and why she's not as quick to place blame on her mother - from her perspective everything might've been fine until her father cheated, and her mothers aggression comes across as legitimate upset instead of long-term abuse. No idea how true any of this is, just some possibilities I was mulling over! Either way she and Stolas desperately need an honest conversation 😭
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epickiya722 · 3 days ago
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Okay, I read what I can from the epilogue and I just want to put out that I'm not saying I'm right about anything I say here because it's not an official release and I read from fan translations.
『Also refer to this post and this one!』
So, again, I was right about Ozawa meeting Yuji again and they have a little heart to heart.
Talking about snow, what they're doing in the same place, bit about Shibuya, it was cute.
But the ending of it was more open ended (which isn't something I hate to be honest).
Before anyone goes "Oh, they pulled a MHA 431, it's so homophobic", I get that it might feel that way but... in no way did Yuji express anything romantic to Ozawa, let alone any kind of feelings for her. Like, let's take a step back FOR ONCE and analyze what's up here. Here, take my hand. Come on and follow along with me.
If anything, from his side, he thinks she is a cool girl. However, he still barely knows her and I doubt him if confessed to he would be like "Oh, I like you like that, too, Ozawa! Let's date!" She's, at best, an acquaintance. Someone in passing, someone he did go to middle school with.
So, her epilogue isn't even homophobic. At best, it's once again just Ozawa being all starry eyed over Yuji who doesn't know how she feels.
It's actually sad when you think about it.
In no way is her feelings are mutual. If Yuko was looking for love, Yuji may not be that person for it. I get it, sometimes you'll have feelings for the one person who was nice to you, but that doesn't mean it will be the only person.
Yuko being too busy hung up on Yuji may have missed a person who likes in the way she likes Yuji. What if there was someone else who did pay attention to the way she writes? Who did meet her at some point and got to know her and liked her for who she was?
And if not that, Yuko should have took Yuji's words to heart and realized how great she is and learn to love herself a little more.
The thing about the middle school flashback I feel, isn't just a flashback about her, but also to show the kind of person he is.
It shows that he's attentive and thoughtful. But also that his actions tend to be swayed by other people, even forcefully. Which happens often for Yuji. He told those boys he didn't like anybody and when asked again if he had to choose, he choose someone who he thought was a neat person. Those boys forced Yuji to give another answer despite him saying he didn't like anybody the first time.
If anything, that flashback serves as a more gentle example of who Yuji contrasting to Rin, another person who knew Yuji when he was a middle schooler (Rin is actually older than Yuji). In Rin's flashback, we see Yuji defend a kid that was being picked on.
Yuji was being attentive, he didn't ignore a kid being bullied. He stepped up and told them to leave him alone and when they didn't and decided to charge at Yuji, he was then forced to act violently. In turn, Rin was left with the impression he had of Yuji, just as Yuko was.
Bringing up the snow bit, it was cute. I liked it! Yuji being compared to snow. But this is not the first time someone has came across Yuji and thought of snow.
What was the incident they bring up this chapter? The Shibuya Incident, right. And who did Yuji have to fight and had cowering by the end of it? Mahito, yes, him. And other than a wolf, what else did Mahito imagine when he became fearful of Yuji? SNOW!
So like with Rin, Mahito's perception of Yuji is opposite of Yuko's. She got to experience a gentle side which she admires. Rin and Mahito got his violent side, which they feared.
With all that being said, even with this epilogue ending the way it did, it doesn't smell "canon" to me. Especially, on Yuji's end of things.
Yuji may have a type of girl he likes, but he is also someone who doesn't express romantic interest in anybody.
While this is Yuko's epilogue, I do feel like she is also just another character to showcase the kind of person Yuji can be. She being present shows a gentle side of him while characters like Rin and Mahito shows his violent side.
And no, again, I don't think this means they're canon. So I beg, certain shippers who like the same ship I do, don't jump on Yuko, Yuji or Akutami for thinking this is some homophobic chapter when the romance between a girl and a boy here once again went nowhere.
It really didn't feel like Akutami-sensei was really trying to make them canon. And given the track record of F/M ships in this series? Yeah... no...
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the-guppy-fish · 3 days ago
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HC - Simon "Ghost" Riley
Types of relationships - Friends
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...I have some thoughts...about our boy Simon...there are not many...but more will come...
(definitely have to make a part two🤭)
No warnings, yet. (Slightly proofread)
Simons eyes are always on you. No matter where in the room you are, his eyes always find their way to you. Both consciously and unconsciously. He just likes knowing where you are.
He has made it a habit to rest his hand on your shoulder whenever he stands behind you. (He just likes touching you..and not in a weird way)
Purposefully steals you hairties and hides them in his pockets. Whenever you leave something (jackets, shoes, ...your phone) within his reach, he loves to just hide it from you. Nothing vile. He just loves to see the confusion on your face when you mutter:"Where the f..Simon! Give back my xx"
Somehow, he knows when you get hungry. If you're ever out together, whether that be on an OP or just out with friends, it doesn't matter. Right before your mood turns snappy and you can't concentrate, he hands you some sort of snack.
He has the lamest, most dry fucking jokes ever. But you find them hilarious. Each and every single one of them. Because he has become a master at delivering those jokes.
- while walking in a desert somewhere on an op.
- Simon picks something up off the ground.
"Here, take this."
- he hands you something small. Dropping it into your gloved hand.
"What is it, Lieutenant?"
- while walking away he answers lowly.
"It's for rock music."
- you look down at a thumbnail-sized, triangular and flat rock.
🙄
"Eat." Was all he would tell you.
Tries to shepherd you if you're in crowded places. But you got a will of your own and a gene for getting distracted, so it's quite the struggle for him sometimes. He'd place a gentle hand between your shoulderblades, guiding you to wherever you need to go.
"Stay close, love."
He texts you out of the blue. And it's usually something weird. Something he's spent a good amount of time pondering over....or no time at all. Sometimes, it's something silly, and others he's thought about something deep and very emotional.
'Do you think I should get a pet for when i retire?'
'How about a dog?'
'No'
'Maybe a turtle'
'I want a turtle'
'Would you help me pick one?'
'Do you ever think about what would happen if I didn't come home from an op?'
'Shit. Sorry'
'I did it again :'( '
'Sorry love'
'You busy?'
'Oi'
'Answer me'
'Please'
'I just need your opinion on something'
Si👻 sent a picture
'Don't laugh. Just tell me if you like the sweater or not'
Simon is definitely someone who texts sporadically.
And speaking of texting. He loves to send you random pictures of animals he finds. No explanation. He just wants you to see the cute cat/dog/squirrel he encountered on a walk around town.
Simon is the kind of friend who you just click with. You don't have to talk much. You just get one another. But still. You yap his ears off every time you spend time together. And he just listens. Oh, Simon loves to hear you yap. He knows it brings some quietness to your, sometimes, racing brain. And he knows. The day he needs to talk, you'll be all ears.
Whenever he leaves for an op (without you), you use your chat, more or less, like a diary. You know he has no access to any kind of network what so ever, while he's away. So, all the messages you send... will only be read once he comes back to base. And even though it's not much, and usually only silly and funny things you send him, he loves every bit of it.
(Even when you use your chat to keep grocery lists in)
When things get rough. Because they will. Life sucks sometimes. You're there for one another. You have an ongoing list of times where you helped each other out because no one else could. (And you wanted no one else to help you)
The time you had the nastiest cold. Like snot everywhere. Coughing your lungs up. Fever. Headaches. Everything. He took some days off from work to help you feel better. He stocked your fridge with vegetable soup and made you like a hundred cuppas until you finally felt like yourself again. All while laughing at you whenever you sneezed without a tissue because you just couldn't keep the snot in.
The time Simons apartment flooded because his upstairs neighbour had busted a pipe, and water began running down Simons walls. In no time, you had helped him collect the few possessions he had at home and brought them to your place. For a few weeks, he occupied your couch while his apartment got fixed.
One time, your bank card had been stolen, and all your accounts were frozen until the card had been deactivated. With no real money to your name at that moment, Simon had lent you at least a month's worth of rent, utilities, and groceries until your bank had settled everything.
Simon once went out to drink with the task force. He had somehow convinced them that he was sober enough to walk home by himself. (He was not.) On the way home, he had managed to trip over his large feet and stumble down the pavement and almost face plant on the empty road. In his drunken state, he had managed to call you and ask for help. Even though it was late, you had gone out for him. Helped him home and into his bathroom. You had helped him clean the scrapes and cuts on his hands, knees, and chin. Brushed his teeth and made him drink some water before you sent him to bed. The next morning, you woke on his couch, the sound of Simons hangover reaching you from the bathroom. He sounded like he was dying. But at least he was up.
When you were working together, your friendship looked a little different. Your work relationship made it hard for him to express his care for you in the way we'd like. So he found other ways. Both of you had to dial down the banter and long yap sessions. So Ghost found discrete ways to be there for you. He made sure your canteen was always filled with water. When he was assigning guard shifts, he would usually put you two on the same shift to ensure you had at least some hours in each others company. Sometimes, he even saved the tiny piece of chocolate from the field rations you ate so he could give it to you whenever you had a shitty day.
When you're on leave, he loves to ask you to go hiking with him. Simon loves to spend time in nature, and he loves to spend time with you. So why not combine it? You spent hours together, both talking about almost everything between heaven and earth, but also in silence, just enjoying the comfort of being around one another.
Also, Simon loves to tease you. Not to be cruel or try to embarrass you. No. He just loves to see you squirm a little. (But he also loves it when you set your foot down. That fire behind your eyes when you tell him to "fucking quit it." He feels proud to see you stand up for yourself. Even if he was the cause of your irritation.)
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stellamancer · 2 days ago
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ari have i ever told i love you? have i? have i?
i'm honestly so happy you feel like i characterized gojo well. it's been a while i feel like, and i do think i could have made him a little more annoying or something LMAO. sometimes writing bten!reader and gojo is like…. playing… what's that ball game where you hit a ball against a wall… like that. where bten!reader is the wall and gojo's playing solo (to compare infinite loop! reader and their gojo is a more traditional back and forth and sots!reader and their gojo… well. lol).
it's so funny to me that you said before you run out of tags and YET.
i know i talked to you a little bit about how he would react and i think i went in a different direction than what we talked about (gojo dramatically lamenting how he hasn't celebrated properly) partially because the conversation didn't end up flowing that way. but yeah, i kind of feel like he actually isn't the type to really hardcore celebrate despite him being the way he is LMAO.
i definitely had an idea what he was thinking at the end there but i do not recall any more LMAOO. tho i think it's very funny that bten!reader tells him he could be more selfish when a lot of characters think that he's pretty selfish… like. it's weird he's selfish but also not super selfish? he's such a a pain to write.
BUT YEAH SAYING THINGS WITHOUT REALIZING. i told someone else, but this happened in bten too iirc. bten!reader wasn't always like that though; it's a product of the loop LMAOOO.
I DO THINK IT IS PRETTY ROMANTIC OF THEM TO OFFER HIM TIME THOUGH. like… initially i was going to have gojo take the offer, and then drag them along to celebrate. but that didn't happen either… this is just me starting a fic and things not going to plan…..
but wahhhh ari…. sniffs u are so kind to me about my writing… i am just a little niku….
BUT YOU KNOW THIS MEME,. WHEN I SAW U HAD LEFT COMMENTS I THOUGHT OF IT LMAOOOOOOOO
notes: time is a construct that bten!reader no longer understands. anyway, yes hellow, late gojo birthday fic that i am pretending that i'm not posting on megumi's birthday LMAO.
takes place in the same universe as beyond the unending night, however reading that fic is not necessary, all you need to know is that reader has a CT that can rewind time. slight and implied reader x gojo if you're squinting. also. reader is very unreliable narrator (there are some things in the narration that gojo responds to because reader is unaware they said it aloud oops.) not proofread.
wc: 944
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“Your birthday was a couple days ago?” 
Gojo tilts his head toward you, expression passive for a split second before a broad grin spreads across his face. “It was! How did you know! Wait, let me guess, you—”
“The students,” you supply flatly before he can make any outlandish suggestions regarding how you happened across the information. “Yuta-kun mentioned it.” 
There’s a slight pucker to Gojo’s lips, but it’s gone almost instantly as he remarks. “Oh Yuta… He’s always been an exemplary student! Even going so far as to remember his dear old teacher’s birthday…” 
You stare at Gojo. There’s a trap here. Bait. It’s not well hidden either, if his exaggerated tone is any indication. You consider telling him straight up: it’s not possible to remember something you never knew in the first place. But instead, you decide to indulge him. “Do people usually not remember?” 
Now that you say that, you find the words hard to believe. You can barely call yourself a part of jujutsu society, but there’s no denying that Gojo is something of a big deal. There’s no way that these illustrious ‘higher ups’ would forget the birthday of someone as important as Satoru Gojo.
“It’s not that they don’t remember,” Gojo says, “it’s that they just don’t care.” 
The nonchalance in his voice stuns you, more so than the fact that you cannot detect even a hint of bitterness in it. They… don’t care? You want to be in denial, to think that that simply cannot be true. And yet…
You cannot deny it. 
Not when you know what you do of the top brass.
“Well, not the students,” Gojo adds, fondness seeping into his tone as the tiniest smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. “Threw me a party and everything. As expected of students of the Great Teacher Gojo!”
He puffs his chest out a little, clearly pleased, no doubt proud. 
“...did you do anything else?” you ask. Knowing someone as whimsical as Gojo, you can imagine him spending the day as he pleased, going from sweet shop to sweet shop spending exorbitant amounts of money on any and every sugary item he could possibly get his hands on. 
“Nope.” 
You blink at him. “What.”
“I was waaaaaay too busy to do anything else,” Gojo says with a dramatic sigh. “Honestly, I’m lucky that the students love me so much that they took on a couple extra missions just so we could party for a half hour.”
Gojo’s words have you gawking at him, slack jawed and in awe. You’re well aware that he’s a busy guy, but to only have had a half hour of free time on his birthday to celebrate is just…
“Don’t make that face.” His voice is quiet. Gentle. “It’s fine; I’m used to it. Just a part of being an adult, you know?”
He’s not wrong, but… 
Somehow, it doesn’t sit well with you. 
“....you’re done with everything you have to do today, right?” you ask, reaching into your pocket to check the time; it’s nearly midnight.
“Yeah?” Gojo answers, and while he sounds mostly amused, you think you can hear the smallest hint of confusion. “You thinking of having a late night snack together to make up for missing my birthday? How romantic of you!” 
“Not exactly,” you shoot back without missing a beat, but Gojo doesn’t seem to be disappointed by you rebuffing him. You outstretch your palm toward him and he inclines his head down slightly to show that he’s looking down at it. 
Gojo hums. He knows what you’re thinking. Of course he does. “You know that’s technically against the rules.” 
“And?” you ask as you stare back at him.
“You could get in biiiiiiig trouble, you know.”
Your gaze doesn’t waver.
“Could even be sentenced to death for it!” 
Your hand doesn’t move.
Gojo tilts his head to the side before heaving a sigh and shaking his head. He raises his hand, but rather than take yours, he reaches up higher and moves to flick your forehead. That would work just as well, and for a split second you gather your cursed energy, ready to use your technique, but—
You merely wince and Gojo tilts his head to the side, raising an eyebrow as your energy quickly dissipates.
“Change your mind?” he asks.
“Wasn’t sure if you were actually going to do it,” you answer honestly. Did he actually flick you or did he just ‘pretend’ to? There wouldn't have been any point if he pretended. 
“What do you think?”
You frown as a playful, yet menacing grin spreads across Gojo's face. He knows full well that you can't tell, especially if you can't even see the point of contact. 
“Well wishes aside, the only other thing I can really offer you is time,” you deadpan. It wasn't like you were going to be stupid and give him a week or even a month, but…
Gojo wags his finger at you, tutting. “No, not true! There's something else!”
You give him a pointed look. What else could you possibly give? 
“Well, it's really more like an IOU,” he explains airily, before his tone shifts, growing quieter and more serious. “Just get stronger. Strong enough to take on missions just like me and maybe next year we can have a longer party.” 
You sigh. His suggestion is more practical, more useful in the long run, and while you can agree with what he's proposed… It's his birthday. He could afford to be a little more selfish. 
“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow, his smile ever wide and absolutely ominous. “I'll keep that in mind next time.” 
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tubbytarchia · 3 days ago
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Honestly, the whole idea that "if you criticize scott you're homophobic" is so terribly problematic. Basically giving him blanket clearance to do anything or say anything and if you criticize it, well, you're just homophobic. I can't imagine that's a good mindset to have as a person, let alone to see someone having as an impressionable young person.
I'm sure scott is a lovely guy in person but seeing how he acts online, frequently as a holier-than-thou type character, and looking down at others, like saying he interrupted a canon event by preventing scar and jimmy from pairing, is just upsetting. I find myself as the same as character joel in the life series, rooting for his death.
Something else that has really irritated me in the life series is how often he gifts deaths to other people. He did it so much in limited life. He literally gave every one of his deaths in secret life to someone else. And he acted so smarmy about it, too, like "oh I am taking this precious life and graciously giving it to you because otherwise I might never die to anything".
I was really happy when most of scott's deaths in wild life happened out of his control, like yes you are exactly the same as everyone else. Stop trying to act otherwise. Anywise thanks for being open about criticism. I don't know if I ever thought about toxic positivity until I saw you talking about it!
Oh I have so many thoughts on Scott's self-sacrificial nature. The toxic positivity is much more prominent on twitter but does still rear its ugly head on tumblr too. Especially concerning Scott's character, which I agree with you on. Him giving up his lives is doubly interesting and in the same vein frustrating to me because half the time it doesn't necessarily even leave the recipient better off
Gem did not want to kill him in SL, but because he has a martyr complex, he made it happen anyway, disregarding Gem's hesitancy. I'm sorry but to me, in that moment he was thinking about himself first and Gem second, which is how I think he regards every single one of his sacrifices. Especially when you contrast that with the Mounders, where Pearl rooted for Bdubs (and Joel but mostly Bdubs) and suggested herself being killed for Bdubs once things got dicey, but it never coming to it. Pearl so deeply wanted for Bdubs to win, and Bdubs, although not very confident, wanted to as well for Pearl. There was never any pressure involved in that unlike Scott's last minute and frankly kind of random sacrifice. He wasn't that low on hearts and Gem would have stood a much better chance against Pearl and Scar with him by his side
In Wild Life, Pearl didn't feel good about taking Scott's life, and Scott basically said he was doing it to quell Pearl. Something also about the fact that Pearl wanted to decide how to do it, just as some remnant of control when she really didn't have any for almost the entirity of Wild Life
In Limited Life, Scott was ready to give up that life he'd promised Jimmy, but then used it to try and coax Jimmy into telling him he loved him. And Jimmy has had a few other people give up their lives for him, Bdubs out of selflessness and Ren out of a promise for an allyship. And yet the only sacrifice Jimmy has even referenced after the fact, is the one Joel had planned but didn't even succeed with. That holds more importance to Jimmy than Scott's sacrifice, which I think says something
And of course, Scott blowing himself up in Double Life. Because Pearl deserved the win more than he did, he says without giving Pearl much opportunity to speak, taking control of the ending that was supposed to belong to Pearl
It's all very interesting to analyse, his character is super intricate and unique in this sense, but it does unfortunately become more frustrating paired with his unchanging selective framing of events and putting down of other characters through no wrongdoing of their own etc
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cherie-doll · 1 day ago
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𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon: Their Reaction to You Goth Dancing
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𓊆♱𓊇 Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach (I'll add more later if I do a part 2 this is just a late night thought :p)
Price
Price decided to treat the guys to a night out, a coin was flipped and you got the choice to pick where to go this time, and no one bat an eye when you chose a nightclub
But they didn't know what type of nightclub until they got there
"Didn't Halloween pass, already?" was John's reaction the moment they set foot inside and saw the amount of goths he's kidding, i hope.. ;(
He's not unfamiliar nor is it his first time seeing a goth but definitely not in clusters like this, he's never really asked you why you choose to dress like you do
He doesn't know whether the teased hair is intentional or if it's from how hard people are going at it on the dancefloor, and is the smudged eyeliner intentional?
Would take one look at you once you joined the dancefloor, down his drink in one gulp and turn the other way because what the hell was that jarring move you pulled?
Ghost
He judges you HARD
Like he's already had to deal with your eccentric and off-putting way of dressing when you're not on duty but why'd you have to go and drag him into it too?
That's scenario one, but I hc this guy has listened to gothic metal or death rock and he kind of just bops to the choice of music playing
Wouldn't join you but the common ground between you both is the music so he's cool with it
Soap
He's been drawn to you for your style and personality but had never witnessed you letting loose like this before
It's a first seeing you unwind and move your body in such strange ways to him, you're jumping and dancing and having fun in your own way but so is everyone else
He's stunned to say the least, people are moving their arms wildly like bats learning to take flight, stomping the ground which he doesn't know how they do with their five inch heels
He's seen women dance in high heels but never in these massive stompers and guys doing it too, but once the poor guy gets over his initial reaction and had a few drinks to loosen up, he's yelling for you to get it and outdance everyone, literally pull out the forbidden dance moves if you have to
Gaz
Trying real hard not to let his jaw drop to the floor, you're doing all that? While you're in thick boots and leather?!??
At first you were dancing to new wave and songs like that but once the classic bangers every goth knows came on you let loose and the place got wild real quick
You managed to lure him in and teach him a few moves that he didn't nail right away but flow is key :) and he managed to put together a simple, but beautifully executed dance that he was obsessed with
He actually had a ton of fun because he likes trying new things out and afterwards you two would goof off back at base dancing to songs, he looked forward to the next time now that he was prepared
Roach
Probably the only one hyping you up without questioning because he knows what's up
Bops along to iconic psychedelic rock and new wave bands from a safe spot he's taken over at the corner of the bar with his drink in hand
At some point you gesture for him to join you, but he's shy and hesitates because of how expressive the moves are, eventually he's persuaded when you go over and take him by his hands, bringing him to the dance floor
A few other bats notice and surround him, teaching him some common dance moves he can work and he ends up having tons of fun!
His favorite move is 'Pet the cat' fs
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sidesteppostinghours · 2 days ago
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I need to stop finishing fics when i have to sleep. but anway. heres 1.3k words of f!chentega, plus a bit of unnamed sidestep for funsies.
Chen is cutting Ortega's hair.
They've both settled into her living room, a bottle of beer set on the table. She's buzzed, not drunk, just enough alcohol in her system to get the words flowing easier. Chen, ever responsible, hasn't touched a drop. He focuses on cutting and brushing, mechanical hands careful not to get the comb tangled in her wavy hair. Julia, meanwhile, is talking, but about what, she couldn't tell you. Half of her thoughts are elsewhere, eyes closed as she lets Chen work.
Cutting Ortega's hair has become their own little ritual. Every few months or so, whenever her hair became long enough to bother her, she would call Wei over to cut it down to length. Sometimes she returns the favour, though that mostly entails grabbing a razor and shaving until it was completely cropped. Not like this, where skills actually mattered to make the results look good.
It was suggested to her, uncharacteristically, by Chen. About a year or so after she first cut her hair, she was lamenting to him about how she missed having short hair. She was just talking– she didn't expect him to take it seriously, but about ten minutes into her rant he had looked up from where he was typing on his computer and asked, "Do you want me to cut it?"
She had given him a look. "You can do that?"
He shrugged. "I know some styles. I can make it look decent, at least."
"Are you sure?" she'd asked, still skeptical. Not that she wouldn't be grateful, but-
"You don't have to deal with the stylists anymore," he pointed out, and that had been that. She found out later on that he learned how to cut hair from his siblings. He would mostly do it on his brothers, though sometimes his sisters too, when the money was tight or his family didn't feel like heading to the stylist.
It's nice, sitting here and talking to him like nothing else matters. A moment of reprieve to catch their breath in the pressure bomb that is their lives. Julia cracks a joke, and Chen huffs in amusement, though he doesn't stop cutting. She takes another pull from her bottle.
Maybe one day she'll ask the questions she's been meaning to. They still haven't talked about whatever this is. Neither Chen nor Ortega are good with their words, and there isn't much that isn't already said by the pocket moments they spend watching eachother navigate the world. The look in other people's eyes when somebody calls Wei "he". The way the stylists purse their lips whenever Julia walks into the studio. The understanding was unspoken but mutual, though Ortega could never place what. Chen might be able to, but until she decides to ask, she wouldn't know.
She will. Someday. Just not today, sitting in front of her TV, talking about God-knows-what and content to let him work till he finally steps away.
"Finished."
She opens her eyes, not bothering to look at herself in the mirror though its propped up on the table next to the beer. They've done this enough times already that she knows it will look good. Instead, she watches as Chen puts everything away, combs, clippers, the works. She nabs the scissors from the table, spinning it on her finger. When he goes to grab them and finds nothing, he looks up and sighs, the corner of his lip twitching at her antics.
"Julia, you're going to stab someone's eye out."
"Hey, I can dodge scissors," she insists, looking at him innocently. "Can you, Marshal?"
His face is caught halfway between exasparated and unimpressed. She chuckles and acquiesces, handing the scissors for him to pack into his bag.
It's not often nowadays that Julia gets to spend time with Wei outside of the Rangers. He was always busy as the Marshal dealing with the mess she left behind, and when she wasn't busy at the HQ or fighting villains, she was twelve balls of yarn deep into her own investigations. The quiet moments were rare enough that it feels precious to watch him like this, walls down, for once without the furrow in his brow as he worked. It makes him look softer.
It makes him look handsome.
"Hey, Wei?"
He turns to face her, still holding the scissors. "Yes?"
Julia could be completely wrong about everything, of course. He could recoil the minute she cups his face, or push her away as she pulls him in. He could, but he doesn't, and his lips are warm when they meet hers. His breath tastes better than she thought. She doesn't know why she would think otherwise– Julia was the one drinking beer the whole time. She traces her thumb over one of the scars on his cheek, rough yet soft, and a part of her wonders what it would be like to run her tongue over it.
It's a beat or two before anything happens, long enough that she worries she really did misjudge. Then, ever so slowly, Chen settles a hand on her face, careful, almost afraid. Not even touching the hair he spent the past thirty minutes working on. His hand moves from her cheek down to her chin, gently tilting her head upwards to make it easier from where he's standing. Julia wraps a hand around his neck and brings him down lower, and he obliges like putty. No trace of the hard edges she'd come to see as his staple, just a tenderness she never remembers seeing in him before.
It's harder to break the kiss than she would like. Wei doesn't resist. He's still holding the scissors. She half expected him to have dropped it, but instead he's gripping them tight enough that she wonders if they'll break.
"Julia?" Brittle. Out of breath. Still looking at her lips at first, but then his eyes flit to the side of her face, and with a breath that's not quite a huff, he tucks a stray strand of hair she hadn't even noticed behind her ear.
"Thank you," she whispers, barely loud enough to be heard in the silence of her apartment. For being her friend. For being the only goddamn woman left in Los Diablos that really got her. For caring enough to keep her hair out of her face.
She says none of this. She just turns back around, not looking to see Chen's face as she takes another pull from her bottle.
———
"I think Chen has a crush on you." 
"Oh." She stops, looking at you with an expression you can't quite interpret. "You do." The words are careful, hesitant. It's not a question, but it's not not one either. 
"I do," you say, frowning at her reaction. It's not the explosive confusion you were expecting, more a quiet "oh, shit" moment as the ball drops. She hasn't even raised her voice yet. "I'm pretty sure he has for a while." 
"Did he...tell you that?" 
"Not in so many words, but he has his tells." 
"He does," she mutters, running a hand through her hair. There's a sigh punctuated by a string of quiet curses. 
"Did you already know?" you ask, narrowing your eyes at her. She didn't react the way you thought she would. Did she pick up on it? Has she just been ignoring it the entire time? 
"In a way," she admits, looking away to the coffee machine like she wants to make herself another cup. 
"Why haven't you done anything about it?" Knowing Ortega, she should've ambushed Chen the moment she suspected that was the case. 
"It's complicated." She shakes her head, dispelling whatever thundercloud was brewing behind her static shielded mind, then turns back to you with a smile. "Don't worry, I'll talk to him. In the meantime, you can tell me why you're here?" 
You can't help but frown. She's taking this too well for something to not be going on, but from the look in her eyes, you're not getting any answers right now. 
You'll find the time to pry one of them about it. Later. It's not a secret those two can keep away from you forever.
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soap-is-an-artist · 3 days ago
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gonna ramble about charlie and auron because i just got out the premiere and. holy shit.
if I'm way off base on my analysis i am so sorry, im still processing, these are just my initial thoughts on stuff. and if you disagree id love to discuss it!
okay so first things first i screamed a LOT. I was so relieved when Charlie said he wasn't mad at Cas [i would've cried probably]. Auron made some truly wild comments. case in point: "I would probably slap the taste out of your mouth if it wouldn't mean getting you all hot and bothered just in time for Casper to drop me off at the office, pull into the parking garage, and fuck some goddamn sense into you." I YELLED OMFG auron. you can't just SAY shit like that. Then the Disney princess line. Charlie sounded so weak when he said "can we go back to that part about 'Casper fucking some sense into me'??" And Auron answering with "Not until I'm outside of the vehicle. You'll have to find someone else to watch." AURON. STOP PLEASE IM GONNA HAVE A HEART ATTACK FROM LAUGHING
alright moving on from that let's get to the serious shit. Charlie is justified to be angry about Auron interfering in his personal life; it ISN'T a healthy way to interact with people, whether you want to befriend them or not. Auron orchestrated this whole scheme because he doesn't know how to communicate his feelings, and you know what? I get it. He doesn't know what normal is, and it's not really his fault that he doesn't know. But he can at least try? Wikihow is free, brother /lh
Charlie wanted a fresh start. He wanted to disconnect from the dangerous world that Auron is a participant in, he wanted to earn his own way in the world, earn a bit of self damn respect like he deserves. Auron undermined all that, despite his good intentions. He lied, big time. And that's kinda shitty and not okay!
Was it about control? Keeping a hand on loose ends, like Charlie thinks? Auron just wanted to "protect him", right? Well, as someone who has had much of their life controlled by people who ALSO just wanted to "protect" me, that's a very weak excuse for taking away someone's agency. Now, our situations aren't exactly the same. Auron is not Charlie's parents [THANK GOD] and there actually some things Charlie isn't aware of that he needs to be protected from! But this was not the move. Like.. at all.
What's my solution? I dunno. But maybe don't force all these things to happen. Perhaps send an email rather than getting your guy to hunt down your former employee's childhood friend/crush and sneakily reunite them behind his back? Or at least try the email first, Auron. Charlie calling Auron out on playing pretend, "just writing one of your little stories"... ouch. But does he kinda deserve that? Yeah. I think so.
[Side note: Charlie talking about how if he'd sought out Cas on his own terms, it would've worked out because they fall in love every time? "Because that's where I'm supposed to be." I. fucking. fell over. I had to fucking BITE something omg. Yeah im biased in this argument sorry lol, i definitely have a favorite here]
HOWEVER: Auron admits that he was wrong! He is not an unrepentant man and he DIDN'T double down! That is a big point in his favor imo. He doesn't actually say "sorry" but he uses a lot more words to mean something... similar? I guess that's a fanfic writer's way. I get it, I also elaborate way too much. So, an actual clear cut "Charlie, I'm sorry I fucked with your life behind your back just because I wanted to be friends with you" would've been nice. But this will do for now.
Also Charlie you REALLY need to watch out for Finn that guy is a freakkkkk he will fuck you up big time. Not normal Finn. The magic one.
Okay I'm done typing whatever pops into my head with the barest pretense at organization lmao, I'll revisit this in time once my thoughts marinate a little more
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cliffburton · 5 months ago
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"metal movies" where the metal dude fucks the "good girl": 3
"metal movies" where the metal girl fucks the "good guy": 1
that's why in my story (comic) the metal girl fucks the "good girl". simple.
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girlivealwaysbean · 25 days ago
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hey god if you've created someone for me can you introduce me to them sooner? i kinda need them now
#like i know i know im sad and hurt but in my heart even the worst breakup friendship or otherwise can kill my hope#like i know this is gods plan for me this is my arc but god it's getting worse and harder everyday#i thought nothing could be worse than yesterday but i hadn't lived today them#then*#i need to talk to someone so bad oh god sl yesterday i had the exam right#and like i don't even know what happened i thought i was going to fail even after giving my 2000% studying#for like 10 hours a day for 15 days for this one exam#and i was panicking and shivering so bad that my heart felt like it would fly out of my chest it was beating so hard#and so fast it didn't even beat like that when i climb too many stairs#and i tried to deep breathe but nothing worked it was so scary like yeah i get stressed sometimes#but this was another level so scary i was nauseous too#and then i clicked submit and i got 82!!!#when i was so sure i was gonna fail because i was only sure about 54 marks answers and the passing was 50#and i got really happy and relieved and then i realized. oh. i don't have anyone to tell#like yeah i told my dad and he was like oh cool ofcourse you did very good#because he doesn't GET it that im not smart anymore and 10th cbse is not an accurate measure of intelligence#he wasn't even happy or surprised he was like well nice obviously#and that's it. i didn't have anyone else to tell#granted i hadn't even told anyone i was giving the exam. i mean i say anyone as if im swimming in friends#only have one. two if u stretch. and i didn't say. cause like idk doesn't really seems like anyone cares#and aah stupid emotional me before the exam i was feeling sad and trying not to panic (??? why??) and CRY in the car because i was thinking#that how my mom always drops me to exam centres and we talk i play music and when im getting out she says all the best beta#and the beta. wow i typed this and immediately have tears in my eyes now. i don't even understand why but#idk i made it up to be a little tradition in my head and i really wanted to call my mom and say mom pls can u say all the best#to me now bc i think ill fuck it up and im really scared and maybe if u give your blessing it'd be okay. but then i thought how embarrassin#it wld be if i failed. bc we don't have any kind of rship my mom and me. and then when she heard i passed from dad she didn't even call me#or anything. thank god i didn't do all that drama but fucking hell. this is all just for me right nobody cares not my parents#and it's too difficult im crumbling under the pressuee but i have to grit my teeth and do it or ill never be able to get out of this house#and i know ill find people when i do get out. but in the meantime. please god ji just one person idc who girl boy friend or love ANYONE#ik it's weak & ik i shld be enough on my own. but pls i just CAN'T.they dont even have to put up with me they just have to care a bit
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petrichorvoices · 3 months ago
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we have been having really poor self esteem and frankly just a poor mental state lately and i don't know how to even approach it like. okay. we got out of those house, we came back home, we're back at university. we should be doing better. but we're not, we're just not. we're using substances to a greater degree than we ever have before, we're pathetically lonely, our self esteem is a flimsy roller coaster. i just feel stuck because we can't tell ourself anymore "just wait until the fall, it'll be fine in the fall" because the fall has come and we are doing badly
#vent#we're kind of in that state where we're not suicidal but also we can't shake the feeling that if we did disappear one day#only a few people would notice and they wouldn't mourn very long. that sort of thing.#we were trying so hard not to cry on the bus earlier because our friend is just so much cooler and more capable than us and it just makes u#think of how autistic and incompetent and stupid we are. and we don't understand what he gets out of being friends with us. we feel like a#stupid dumb sidekick and we're anxious that he's gonna realize that and then we're gonna be even lonelier than we are now.#and the body's dad earlier made a joke about us not having friends and it really stung and he apologized for it once we told him not to mak#those kinds of jokes but i'm crying as i type about it now. we're just so stupidly lonely. and even when we do make friends we can't help#but be the lesser one. the friend that walks behind the other on a crowded sidewalk. the friend that's always thought of second. the one wh#isn't as smart or capable or fun. i don't know why anyone bothers to be friends with us. i think if we didn't reach out to people first the#nobody would do it for us. i think that if we just stopped messaging people one day it would take a while before anyone notices anything#and longer before they did anything about it. if they decided to at all.#we're some stupid kid who needs to be told not to look at strangers yelling in public and whose stupidly naive and optimistic and i don't#know how we ever think anything else of ourselfves.
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cosmogyros · 3 months ago
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.
#it's so weeeeeeeird to get my parents' feedback on my songs#they're both very artistic types and i always enjoy sharing my music with them#and they tend to give extensive and always-positive feedback. which is. great?#but also they both have this weird habit of assuming that every narrator of every song is always 'in the right'#and should be respected and agreed with and supported#which... kind of makes me feel like they're assuming every narrator is me?#and that's very unsettling bc most of my fictional narrators are uh. lol. Not Great People#ranging from just kind of weak and craven and avoidant (see: the narrator of a certain recent song)#to full-on violent and cruel and fucked-up in the head#ffs i wrote a song recently from the POV of a creep who fixates on a woman he's never met#and eventually murders her (before which he may or may not have raped her. the lyric is intentionally ambiguous)#like... most of the time i thought it was pretty obvious that i'm telling a story with my songs#but either i'm really failing at accurately portraying all these flawed characters#or else my parents have some other reason for constantly reacting to every song narrator#as if said narrator were Not To Be Criticized#my mum described the narrator of this certain song as 'fearless and self-confident and in control'#and i was like... are we referring to the same song?#the one where the narrator is in a super toxic relationship but just pathetically runs away from their reality#instead of ending the relationship and getting their freedom?#the one where - despite feeling trapped by the other person's love#the narrator is also kind of shamefully addicted to being the worshipped idol on a pedestal?#none of that sounds like those positive-coded words you used#but maybe she assumed the narrator was me and therefore didn't want to say anything negative?#(in which case AARRRRGHHHH how do i make people realize that songwriting is ART NOT AUTOBIOGRAPHY???)#or maybe she visualized herself in the place of the narrator?#(in which case: oof. oh dear. but i suppose that's none of my business. i'm not a therapist)#i just get very tired of my parents' inability to accept the existence of bad things in the world sometimes#but i know it's my own problem: i can't assume people will always 'get' what my lyrics are about#once you put your art out in the world you have to accept that is not entirely yours anymore#people will take it and make it their own until you don't even recognize it anymore
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buckyalpine · 5 months ago
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18+ Minors dni. I'm currently obsessed with the thought of Bucky making his pretty girl take it. I'm talking him keeping you caged under him with your legs wrapped around his waist while his arm are wrapped tightly around your body. This type of energy comes out when he's pissed. Stressed. Jealous. He's going to remind you exactly who you belong to and my favourite thing about this is imagine you didn't even know what happened. Maybe he overheard some agents talking about how irresistible you are. So cute and pretty and they'd give anything to-
Nope. The thought alone of anytone touching what's his has him storming off, hauling you over to mark you in the most primal way possible. Remind everyone who you belong to. He plucks you up from whatever you're doing and carries you over his shoulder like a beast; you're naked on his bed seconds later. He plows into you, hips slamming his cock into your very soaked cunt, unapologetically fucking you with the deepest moans. He sounds so feral. He is feral.
"Feels-so-good, such a good girl, letting me put my big dick in you"
Those grunts and groans he lets out show just how selfish he's being because he's focused on how fucking good you're making his dick feel. You're so soft but you make his cock so hard. You're such an angel for him, spreading your legs for him the second he set you down. He'd been torn between wanting to ravish you immediately or taking a second to throw his clothes off. He decides he needs you to fucking smell like him when this is all over, have every bit of his scent covering your skin. He wants to feel every bit of you all over him.
No one else would ever get to have you like this. Feel your naked breasts on their chest. Feel your soft tummy press against theirs. Feel the plushness of your thighs squeezing their waist. Feel your silky walls squeeze and milk their cocks till they're all soft and sensitive.
They'd hear you though.
They'd hear every moan and Bucky would make sure of that.
"Whose cock is making you scream baby, tell me" He growls, your combined arousal making a mess on the bed.
"Y-OURS-" You hiccup, choking back a sob as he snakes his had to wrap around your throat. Damn right. His fucking cock. His dick in your pussy. Not the stupid little boys who think they have a chance to even breathe the same air. His pretty, pink, fat fucking cock destroying you to his heart's content, stretching you open as much as he wants. "J-JAMES"
"That's right, say my name baby, say the name of your man who fucks you this good, let everyone hear" He's already turned off all the sound proofing and maybe he left his door a crack open. Maybe.
"Jaamesss" You sound so gone, cockdrunk over the way the spongy head of his dick kisses that sensitive spot that makes you squirt cream with each of his thrusts. "Don't st-stop, please-fuck-me-Jamie" Your voices slurs and turns into a whine as your eyes roll back. For such a sweet princess, you sound like an absolute slut when he's inside you and he wouldn't have it any other way.
"Mhphhm, sound so pretty, gonna make me blow, let me empty my balls in you" He starts to fuck you faster causing the headboard to shake, the whole bed creaking with his movements. "M'gonna cum angel-oh shittt-"
He nearly whimpers when he feels your doe eyes looking up at him with your ankles locked around his waist; he knows exactly what that means.
"You want it inside you huh, want my cum in you baby, s'that it?"
"Want-it-please, can't hold it" you cling onto him tighter and Bucky can't last any longer.
"Cum with me, together, c'mon angel, cum with me, yes, fuck yes, can feel you-fuck-" He begs, needing those little boys who spoke about you to hear exactly what they're missing out on, "OH GOD, FUCKKK" He doesn't hold back as he gives into his orgasm, your name dripping of his lips while you sob and squeal.
I want him to give you the softest aftercare. Tell you what a good girl you were for him. How much he loves and adores you, how special you are to him.
I want him to have the most smug expression on his face when he goes back down. He's such a little shit. He passes by a cackling Tony and a wheezing Sam. Not one agent dares look him in the eye. Steve may be blushing but he'll give credit where credit is due. His best friend sent a very clear message. Bucky is a possessive, loving, horny little shit and I need it.
Need it now.
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jensthwa · 5 months ago
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show & tell (SMG x reader).
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part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.
SUMMARY:
You have known Mingi since you both were fourteen. You’ve been by his side through thick and thin and you would do anything for him, really, considering he’s your other half. When he has an unfortunate bed experience and asks for your help and you say yes, he starts considering that, maybe, you’re just the best friend a guy like him can have.
PAIRING: best friend!mingi x afab reader.
GENRE: childhood best friends to ?
WORD COUNT: 8k.
WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) attempt !!! at comedy, wooyoung being a little shit, hwa being the voice of reason, sex talk, pet names (love and also dude and bro but in a sweet way), mingi scaring the sense out of you, descriptions of female anatomy, kissing, dirty talk (sort of), teasing, a little bit of voyeurism, fingering, squirting, almost getting caught, unresolved feelings.
NOTES: had to do a lot of research for this one, so i figured nothing better to post as my first fic here! this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3
POSTED: july 18th 2024.
masterlist. / part two.
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“Delete her number right now!” 
“She's such a bitch for saying that to you…” 
“And over text too? Wow.” 
“Yeah, no, I didn't like her from the start.” 
Wooyoung’s living room comes to life once again that morning, voices echoing and insults flying out, all towards the girl Mingi’s seeing. 
Was seeing. You're sure she's out of his usual rotation with the lovely shit show she just caused. 
You stay silent, your eyes fixed on your best friend's expression, on his red cheeks and apologetic eyes because everyone told him that girl was bad news. 
He should've listened to you when you told him you liked her friend better. She was a sweet girl, clearly had a thing for Mingi. 
Unfortunately, Mingi has a type. And that type always ends up breaking his spirit one way or another. 
But you stay silent, letting your friends have their little rants about how much of a bitch she is for hurting Mingi's ego like that, until he covers up his face with his hands and lets out a frustrated whine. 
“That's enough, everyone. I think he got it.” You smile a little and everyone turns to you, Yunho’s chest heaving and everything but Seonghwa (who also kept his mouth shut all this time) interferes before anyone else has the chance to start again.
“You know you shouldn't feel ashamed for that, right?” he asks Mingi, who slowly lowers his hands to his lap and looks at you for a brief second. You nod, confirming what Hwa says “No one is born knowing everything and she shouldn't expect you to know how to make a girl squirt.” 
“Jesus Christ,” Mingi whines again, closing his eyes “Don't say it like that.” 
“How else should I say it?” Seonghwa is confused but he laughs a little bit and turns to you. 
Being the only girl in the room, you think everyone it's expecting you to pick your friend up and join them in their insults but you can't (for Mingi’s sake). Instead, you let out a sigh “I mean, it's hard to even make it happen on your own without any help, Mingi. I don't know what the fuck she's on but…” shrugging, you extend your arm to pat him in the shoulder two times “Hwa’s right.” 
“So you do know?” 
“Woo—” Hongjoong reprimands right away and you turn to Wooyoung, confused.
“Huh?” 
“You said that it's hard making it happen,” he explains, smiling because he just found a new target for the next few days “So you must know.” 
Talking about sex with them was never difficult, it didn't make you uncomfortable whatsoever but you know what Woo is doing. 
You look down at Mingi before answering though and his eyes are glued to the carpet, begging for the topic of his unfortunate encounter with that bitch to die on everyone's tongue. 
So you take mercy on him. 
“Oh. I mean… Yeah.” You shrug once again, leaning back against the cushions on the couch while Wooyoung claps like he just heard the most hilarious joke ever. 
“You truly are amazing.” 
Rolling your eyes, you get up from your comfy seat “Sure. But it took a lot of practice and the whole ordeal was frustrating for me, so, again, I don't know what the fuck she was on,” you say again, smiling down at Mingi before taking a few steps towards the door “It's noon already, by the way.” 
“Shit.” Woo gets up quickly from his spot on the floor and everyone else follows suit. 
“Alright, everyone out! We have a midterm to cheat on.” San calls out and everyone takes it as their sign to actually leave (not just hang around the apartment) and continue with their days. 
This reunion was a little impromptu, just because Wooyoung texted everyone begging to come over and hang out with him and San before their online philosophy midterm. 
“And by that he means that you need to stay,” Wooyoung hugs Seonghwa hard, almost begging him with his eyes “We didn't study… Don't look at me like that! Please?” 
“I'm not doing your fucking midterm for you!”
You chuckle, leaning on the door and waiting for your ride home to get his shoes on. When you look down at him again, Mingi mouths a thank you and you blow him a kiss. 
When you get downstairs, you swear you still hear Wooyoung begging his senior to take the test for him. 
Everyone is quiet in the car. You can tell they're tired from exams and life in general, so you don't press them with questions and just let the music play in the background while you look out the passenger window and, eventually, at Mingi. 
His grip on the steering wheel lets you know he's a little more affected than he let on back there. But, again, you say nothing. 
You know better than to pressure him into telling you his feelings. 
Mingi and you have been friends forever. He lived a few houses down from yours, becoming your first friend when you moved to the city. You both were fourteen when it happened, so you've known him long enough to know what happens when he gets his heart broken. 
Not that Mingi loved that girl or anything, but he never really took embarrassment well. He didn't when the first girl he liked rejected him in front of the whole ninth grade class and he didn't when his pants ripped in the middle of the stage while performing a routine with his dance team on senior year. 
You stood by his side every single time and every single time he waited to sit down and let everything out, collect his feelings and talk to you through his frustrations. You really loved that about him, because he never said anything he regretted just because he was upset at the moment. 
Maybe that's why you two have been friends for so long. Opposites attract, or whatever your mother told you one time. 
In reality, you think it's because you two complement each other well. 
He knows when to speak his mind and you're kind of impulsive, heart on your sleeve and sharp tongue ready to defend your and your loved ones honor if needed. 
That's why it takes a lot of strength for you to not pull up that girl's number from his phone and give her a piece of your mind. 
One by one, you drop your friends off in different parts of the city and when it's time to go into your own house, you circle the car and Mingi rolls his window down.
He reads the look you give him a little too well, so he opens his mouth to stop you but you shake your head. 
“Call me, come over or just let me know if you need anything,” you start before he says anything “If you need me to beat her up, I can do that too.” 
He huffs out a laugh “You don't even know how to fight, love.”
You sigh at the nickname, he's been using it since the time you told him you had a crush on his friend, way back in highschool, and that you were positive you were going to get together and he would call you love because that's what good boyfriend's do. 
Turns out, you weren't exactly his friend's type. Neither were the other girls in your school. 
“I don't give a shit, I'll do it,” You two smile to each other fondly for a few seconds and then you tap the top of the car “Thanks for the ride, dude.” 
“You’re welcome, bro.” He rolls his eyes, annoyed because he hates when you call him that, but waits for you to get inside either way. 
And in the solitude of your room, you wait. 
You distract yourself with papers that are due in a few days, you start studying for your finals even though they're months away and you even go downstairs to say goodbye to your parents when they leave for a fancy dinner with their colleagues before you hear your phone ring. 
Mingi's FaceTime comes right on time, because you were getting really anxious from the radio silence on his end. 
“I have a small query for you.” He puts on an accent that makes you grimace immediately and he laughs at you. 
“Ew. Never do that ever again,” you beg, going back upstairs to your room “Go ahead.” 
“How do you do it?” 
“Excuse me?” 
“How the fuck do you make yourself squirt, love?” 
Oh. 
Definitely not the conversation you were hoping to have with him. 
It catches you off guard and you stammer your response “Um… You— I mean, it's not really a thing I can explain.” 
“You have such a way with words, though.” 
You stare at him through the screen, annoyed, and he just laughs again “Don't make me come over and beat you up.” 
“Alright, alright,” his giggling dies out and you distract yourself from the heat you feel creeping over your cheeks while putting away your statistics prep for the quiz you have next week. There's a bit of silence and then you hear him sigh “I do really want to know, though.” 
“If you're asking me this to then go over to her house and prove her wrong, I'm not telling you shit.” 
“No! No, that's not it at all,” he defends himself quickly when you turn your head to the camera, scowl in your face “When she asked me to do it, I really did try to make her, you know…” 
“You said squirt so freely a minute ago, Mingi,” you tease, smiling, but at his expression, you give in “What exactly did you do?” 
“I tried to, you know, do it like they do it in the movies,” he demonstrates his point with his free hand, his middle and ring finger down on his sheets, pressing and moving side to side “And she was enjoying it and she came, but nothing really… came out.” 
“Wow, first of all: you make her come and she has the nerve to give you shit over text? I hate her,” you shake your head, disappointment written all over your face “and second of all, that was a terrible mistake.” 
“What? Going like this?” He does it again and you roll your eyes, laughing a second later. 
“No, dude, trying to porno your way into making her squirt.” 
“Oh.” His movements on the sheets slow down and you grimace again. 
“Please stop doing that,” you beg and he snaps out of his thoughts to look at you through the screen. You take your phone and move to the bed, resting your head against the pillows with a huff. 
You ponder for a moment. You're sure telling him what he wants to hear it's not really a threat to your friendship, but it's also something that's very personal and intimate. You can talk about sex with Mingi and the other guys, sure, what doesn't mean you tell them about your sex life. 
Maybe that's why Wooyoung was so excited earlier today, because you spilled something that involves you directly and not something vague and general like you usually do. 
“Would it give you peace of mind if I explained it to you?” You ask, your voice barely a whisper as you sit straight on the bed. 
Your best friend takes what feels like a lifetime to respond and, when does, it's in a hushed tone as well “Please.” 
You groan and you comply either way, trying to find the right words to even start “Okay, I'm going to be very technical about this.” 
“I wouldn't expect anything else from you.” 
His teasing tone makes you glare at him for a few seconds before dismissing it with a click of your tongue “The very first thing you need to make sure happens, is that you wash your hands—” 
“Yes, Y/N, I'm not a virgin,” he huffs this time, annoyed “I know all of that, just skip to the part where I make her squirt.” 
“Jesus, fine! I also want to clarify that this works on me and I'm not really sure if it'll work on anyone else, alright?” he nods and you look away from the screen because you're not sure how to look him in the eyes “The first thing that I do— The first thing that you need to do,” you correct yourself quickly “Is make sure she's comfortable. And I mean, the space. Towels, water bottles… She needs to hydrate a lot.” 
“Hydrate… a… lot…” You turn your head to the screen and your jaw goes slack at what you see. 
“Are you writing this down?!” 
“I’m making sure I don't forget anything!” 
“You're unbelievable…” You let out under your breath and take a deep one before resuming the, apparently, class “Squirting can be confused as peeing and—” 
“Shit, hold on.” He interrupts and you hear his mom’s voice at the door, asking him something you can't really catch through the shitty airpod audio “It's just Y/N… I'm not really saying anything so I don't understand how I'm being too loud for— Yes ma'am.” 
You try not to laugh because he's literally being scolded right in front of you. 
Old habits die hard, and Mingi's mom loves to put him on the spot. 
Your laugh dies hard as well, because the next words, for some reason, make your heart drop to your ass. 
“She's telling me to either cut it out or go to your house, so… I'm coming over.” 
“Oh, I— Hello?” Your lockscreen mocks you because the call literally ended before you could tell him to go and fuck himself “Shit.” 
You don't know why you panic, but you do. You tidy up the room, you change your pajamas into something more presentable and you try to remember what you were telling him before he pulls open your bedroom door. 
“Mingi! Fuck, you scared the shit out of me “ you're panting, hand over your chest. 
He’s also panting, like he runned to get to your house, but he looks dumbfounded by your reaction “Your mom literally gave me the spare keys in your presence.”  
When he steps closer, you notice he's wearing cologne and that his hair it's a little wet, still, so you figure he took a shower before calling you tonight. 
Which means he probably wanted to sleep everything off, like he usually does, but whatever this is made him call you. 
“Yeah! But I thought you— Nevermind.” He shrugs and gives your hair a kiss before he moves to sit at your desk, the same way he usually does when he steals your laptop and notes to complete his assignments for the few classes you share. 
God. Somehow, you wish he was doing just that so it brings back some sense of normalcy. Maybe then, your heart can calm down enough for you to understand why this specific situation has your senses going insane. 
You sit back down on your bed and try to get your heart back to its place in the meantime. 
“They're not home, right? I didn't see your dad’s car.” 
“Company dinner.” 
“Ah.” He nods and you both fall in uncomfortable silence. It shouldn't be awkward, but it kind of is, even if you laugh when he pulls out the notebook he was writing on from underneath his oversized shirt and steals a pen from your pencil case, it's still a little weird. 
You gulp. 
“So, squirting can be confused as peeing.” He recalls the last thing you said with a smile and then he turns to look at you for a second “Go on.” 
You're grateful he's taking notes all of the sudden. He's turned to you, so you have a clear view of his back and you can freely take a grounding breath before continuing “It can make you feel very uncomfortable if you think you're going to pee yourself and that's really why most women don't squirt in the first place.” 
“You sound like you're reading a textbook.” He confesses with a laugh. 
“I told you, I'm being very technical about this— Besides, I did my research when I was trying to…” you gulp again “You know.” 
“You said squirt so freely a minute ago.” Mingi teases you the same way you teased him earlier and you squint your eyes in return. 
“Very funny. Anyways… Yeah, when you feel that, you usually tense up. You need to relax before even making it happen,” he nods, writing it down quickly “I also read that, depending on the person, you can confuse the liquid with, like, usual… arousal? Yeah, arousal” you sound more confident the second time you say it, unsure on how to call it because you never really explained anything related to your vagina to anyone else. 
He turns to you, confused “So… If she doesn't squirt a lot, how can I tell if she did it?” 
“I guess you'll notice it in her reaction?” You shrug and then cough a little to try and get rid of the sudden lump on your throat “I mean, it's not my case, so I wouldn't… I wouldn't know that.” 
Mingi, because -you guess- hates you, just raises a brow and looks you over one time before turning back to his notes. 
“A-anyways,” you cough again “It's all in her g-spot. It happens because it gets stimulated and that g-spot it's like…” you, once again, try to find the ideal words to explain “It's like the upper wall of the vagina? No, no, that's not right,” you see him draw a line over what he clearly wrote down on the paper and you laugh, apologetic “It's more like the, uh… Like the front wall of it.” 
“Front wall?” 
“Y-yeah?” you offer, nervous and unsure “I mean… Ugh, let me explain again. Something that you need to take into account is that you can only find it if she's really, really turned on.” 
“O… kay.” 
“Sort of like when you get hard we, uh, also get hard. Just differently,” you notice he's no longer taking notes when you turn to him again and the room is suddenly very hot. 
The AC’s on, right? 
Fuck. 
“And apparently it only really shows up when you're really aroused. The g-spot, I mean,” Quickly, you're up from your bed and walking around it, fetching your water bottle and taking a big gulp of it with your eyes closed. 
Mingi clears his throat a second later. 
“So it feels hard to the touch or…” 
“Not really, um… It kinda feels like a berry.” 
He laughs “What?” 
“Yeah, it's kind of soft but it has a texture to it too. And we, uh… have this gland that fills up with the liquid— Kind of like a prostate gland! Yeah, that's what that article said,” putting even more distance within Mingi and you, you sit back on the bed, just on the other side “If you try to do it before it fills up, you end up with nothing. That's what frustrated me the whole time I was learning how to do it.” 
“You didn't drink enough water?” 
“No, no— It fills up when you get really turned on. And when I was trying, I was trying way too hard and didn't, uh… I didn't do a lot of foreplay before trying, s-so.” You nod, finishing the explanation in a softer voice. 
Your cheeks feel hot and you swear your upper lip is sweating a bit. Why would you even say that? 
“Y-you didn't touch yourself enough or…?” 
“Exactly, I didn't, I just… Tried t-to stimulate it. Wasn't even wet enough so I used, uh, lube.” 
“Oh… Lube. Sure, okay.” He nods again, and then moves his hand over his face, looking away for a second “And then?” 
“I'm not really sure how to… Give me a second.”
What were you even telling him before exposing yourself like that? Before the tension in the room skyrocketed in a suffocating way? You're not sure. 
Oh, foreplay. Okay, what's next? 
“Fingering,” you say out loud when you remember and at the sudden word Mingi turns to you, eyes wide and you stumble over your words yet again “Y-you need to finger her to stimulate the g-spot, duh.” 
“Don't duh me, Y/N, I'm learning!” 
“Sorry!” 
“Okay! Now what do I do when… fingering.” 
That makes you frown. You're not really sure what to tell him next. So you look straight ahead and, unintentionally, move your ring and middle finger the way you do when you're touching yourself. 
In the silence of the room, you audibly hear Mingi’s breath hitching and that draws you back to reality. 
When you look at him, his eyes are solely focused on your fingers. 
“I don't really know how to explain this next part.” You sound apologetic, your lips tensing into a straight line. 
A bit passes. 
And then another one and another one where Mingi looks at you with a weird, foreign expression on his face. 
So you open your mouth to apologize to him, but he beats you to it. 
“Then show me.” 
You swear you never even heard him sound like that before. Or maybe you have, the tone of voice similar to when he just wakes up, low, grouchy, as if his throat might be dry. 
It just never affected you this way. 
“W-what?” you blink hard, a few times, trying to focus on whatever the hell is going on. 
“Show me how you do it… I-if you want to.” 
“Mingi!” 
“I just— Look, you don't have to,” he says right away “If you don't want to, you can forget I ever asked but I'm so… curious”, he says, getting up from your desk chair and planting his knee into the bed “And I'm also really butthurt over what happened. I want to learn but I don't really have anyone else to ask.” 
“What about, uh… Minseo! Yeah, what about her?” you offer quickly, also getting up. 
“San's ex?!” 
“I don't know any other woman that you also know, Mingi!” 
He gulps and breathes heavily, gathering his words, his thoughts, just like he always does and you remember: This is Mingi. Your Mingi. The Mingi you've known for years and care about more than anything. 
“I'm asking you because I trust you,” he says, looking you over once again “And because if I fail, you're not… going to make fun of me for it.”
There it is. 
You soften at that and he seems to relax at your reaction. His demeanor lets you know he's not just saying that because he wants to see you touch yourself, he's being honest. 
So you decide to be honest, as well. In a whisper, because your voice will tremble and give away how strongly you feel about his request. 
“I've never done it in front of anyone before.” 
“So no one has ever make you—” 
“No,” you confirm before he even gets it out and you sigh “I never ask for it and I haven't really… I've only slept with—” 
“Hangyeol.” He nods and scrunches his nose in disgust at the memory of your highschool boyfriend. They never really got along and it was a shame, because Han was a great guy, he just wasn't the one for you. 
“Mingi,” you walk over to him and he straightens up his spine “This could really… I mean, there's no getting rid of me in this lifetime, buddy,” reminding him makes him smile and you do as well, nervous, your body on high alert “But this could mess us up.” You finish in a whisper. 
“I'm not letting that happen.” He says back, eyes scanning your face before zeroing on your eyes “There's no getting rid of me either, love.” 
That nickname is going to be the death of you, you're sure. It makes you suck in air you very much need at this moment. 
Fuck it. 
“I'll… get the towels, then.” You smile a little even though your cheeks are burning and you feel a little dizzy while holding his gaze, but you don't back down. 
Before you move, though, he stops you with his hand holding your waist “I know where they are. Stay here.” 
You could literally melt right now. And you know it's a short trip to the downstairs hallway closet from your room, so you make sure you strip your duvet before things get messy. 
You should go to the bathroom, too, to clean yourself up a bit before Mingi finds out what you find out when you sit on your bed. 
You're so wet. 
And it's so fucking embarrassing, because you're not supposed to feel this way for him, for this.
Because, if anything, this is clearly just an educational experience.
And if Mingi’s excited look when he re-enters your bedroom tells you otherwise, you're choosing to ignore it for the clearly educational experience’s sake. 
“These will do?” 
You take the two mismatched towels and place them on the bed right away, not even looking at him. 
“Yep.” 
You think he nods but you're not sure, you just caught a glimpse of him moving towards your desk while you pretend to fix the towels in the bed to perfection. 
“Okay, so… You need to, uh, be comfy and shit. Drink water, you just did that a few minutes ago…” when you turn to him, he's reading his notes like he's actually about to conduct an experiment and you chuckle before shaking your head “The… The foreplay part should be next, right?” 
“Right…” you drag out, biting the inside of your cheek before he looks back at you. 
“You look really tense, Y/N,” he deadpans, looking down at his notes again “You need to relax so it can happen, right?” 
“You're about to see me touch myself and you think I can relax?” 
“Oh,” he frowns, immediately and then blinks a few times to refocus, you think “I'm not the one doing it?” 
“Uh… Yes? Later? I thought you wanted to see me first, y-you… You asked me to show you…” 
You can feel him think, the gears on his brain twisting and you think he's going to backpedal at any second because he's not really saying anything. Then you see it, the moment the image crosses his mind. 
And the next second you have him in front of you, towering over your form and then he's not.
Getting on his knees, he tentatively places a hand on your knee and parts your legs so you can make room for him to touch the end of the mattress with his chest and raise his chin just enough to make you think he's asking you to kiss him.
Oh God, you want to kiss him. 
His voice is a sweet murmur when he speaks again “Show me how to get you there, love,” he sounds like he's pleading, like he's begging you to instruct him and your breath catches when he moves his hand up your thigh “What do you like?” 
Your mouth moves before you can even think “Kiss me.” 
You don't even notice you're leaning forward until his breath fans against your chin and he tilts his head even more so that your noses touch. 
“How do you like being kissed?” 
You breathe out a laugh, a little annoyed by his constant questioning “Figure it out, Mingi.” And then the last thing you see is his smirk before his mouth presses against yours. 
It's not what you expect. If anything, you expected him to take the lead. Han used to do so, all the guys you've ever kissed did it as well. You don't really know why his patience surprises you, but it does and if your heart could race even more, it would. 
Because he waits for your guidance, waits for you to grab his shirt and jank him closer, waits for you to sigh against him and then returns the gesture when he feels your fingers move upwards and tangle in his dark hair. 
His mouth is complying to yours, his tongue is exploring it and wetting your lips in the process and you've never felt this good with anyone before. 
That's something you'll need to unpack later, but your brain disconnects when your best friend lets out a noise the second his hands touch your waist under your shirt and you forget, for a split second, that the point of this is to have you on your back pleasing yourself for him to learn. 
Because you want nothing more than to hear him make that noise again. 
The kisses grow needy and so do you when he trails a path with his wet lips from your chin to your neck and the next thing you know is that your back is against the towels you laid down before and his mouth is kissing the valley of your breasts over the cotton of your shirt. 
You look down and it takes a second for him to feel you staring before he looks up at you “Should we take this off?” 
Your voice gives away how gone you are when you reply a simple yes and your shirt is on the floor the next instant. 
Now, you're sure this is not the first time Mingi has seen you in your underwear. You both have gone swimming before and he has walked into your room a million times while you're getting ready. You're even sure he's seen you walk out from your bathroom in this specific bra before… But he's staring at you like it's the first time he's been able to trace the way your breasts spill a little bit over the fabric of this old bra you decided to wear today, like it's the first time he's allowed himself to enjoy it. 
Like it's the first time he's allowing himself to feel any sort of attraction for you. 
“Fuck,” you whisper, shallow breath hitting his cheek when he returns his mouth to your jaw “Let me… Come here.” 
You scoot up until your head rests against your pillows and he follows, resting his body weight on his side and chasing your mouth when you turn your face to him. 
You should speed this up. There's no way you're not going to feel like shit if tomorrow you wake up and remember you're letting yourself enjoy this more than you should. 
There’s no reason for you to lose your breath when his fingertips trace softly the skin under your breasts or for your legs to grant him access so quickly when they reach your belly and bypass every other part of your body before going straight in between them. 
And he notices it too. 
“I don't know why I asked you so many questions before,” he starts, turning his hand so that he back of it and his nails start caressing the inside of your thighs through your sweatpants “I know what you like. I pay attention to you whenever we're talking about sex with the guys.” 
You frown, about to remind him that you never speak directly about your own experiences but he continues his ministrations, giving your other thigh attention “I usually watch you closely in case any of it makes you uncomfortable, but I notice your reactions when they speak about something that you like.” 
Oh. Heart on your sleeve, your biggest flaw. 
“Like that one time Woo was going on and on about marking and you couldn't stop fidgeting on your seat…” his nose traces your jaw softly before his teeth take the skin underneath it and you gasp just enough to prove him right “Or that time Yunho said he hated teasing because he's an impatient little shit” he chuckles, his index finding the spot next to your mound and going down slowly until his knuckle graces the crevice where your leg and your hip connect “and you defended it until we had to stop you guys from yelling each other over it…” 
Your breath shakes and your eyes close at the sensation “Mingi…” 
“Am I wrong?” 
You shake your head no and you can all but hear him smile when he speaks again. 
“Of course I'm not.” 
You open your eyes and expect him to look at you the way he does when you're unable to defend yourself against his quips, but he's not. His eyes are following his own actions and his bottom lip is pulled by his teeth when he takes the fabric of your sweatpants and pulls it up, enough to give you some friction where you need it the most. 
“Can I take this off?” 
“Fuck, y-yes.” 
Joining your shirt on the ground, you're left only in your underwear while Mingi is fully clothed and it bothers you out of nowhere. 
“You're so wet already…” he observes and you blush, puffing some air and covering your eyes with your hand. He just laughs “That's a good thing, it means that I'm doing okay.” 
He's doing more than okay. Damn all the experience he has and the way he reads you so well. 
But his sweet tone gives you some clarity and you support your weight on your hand to fix your position on the bed. 
“Alright, let's… resume the lesson before my parents get home.” 
“They probably won't for now. The company dinners last until like… two in the morning, usually, right?” 
“That's when they decide to go out for drinks.” 
“Your mom always wants to go out for drinks.” 
“Let's not talk about my mom right now!” you beg and he laughs again, making you chuckle alongside him and you're glad he's talking all of this -the kissing, the teasing, the sweet-talk and the wet patch on your underwear- so well. 
The awkwardness from before dissipated the moment he got on his knees in front of you and all that followed was this lovely tension you're dying to keep between the two of you forever even though you shouldn't. 
“Show me, love,” he pleads and you sigh, his mouth finding your cheek for a quick second, encouraging you “And then you can show me how to make you feel good, too.” 
You stare at him for a few seconds “Damn, you're good,” he shakes his head and you smile, getting rid of your underwear and pushing the quick moment of embarrassment being bare with him in the room gives you “Remember that this is what works for me, okay?” 
He nods and then props himself up so he can see it better. 
You take a second before your fingers dive into your wet folds and, when you do, you gasp at the feeling. 
You've never been more wet just for kissing and teasing before. What the fuck. 
You do what you usually do when you're alone for a while and try to contain yourself from moaning because Mingi's eyes keep moving from your fingers to your face. Then, you remember you should be talking him through it, as well. 
“You see how I'm building it up?” you start, chest heaving and he hums as his reply “I'm not trying to make myself come but I'm kinda just… edging myself a little bit.” 
“Edging,” he repeats and then hisses when he sees your thumb pressing into your clit just how you like it, making you sigh heavily “I know all about that, that's good.” 
“Y-you do?” 
“You'll be surprised,” he smiles, proud of himself. 
“Okay,” you continue, taking a deep breath “Then you know about prepping, too,” he nods “So, a finger first…” you say, swallowing hard when your middle finger makes its way into your cavity without much effort. 
Dragging back and forth for a minute or so, you're incapable of containing yourself any longer. Air leaves your mouth in pants and your eyes close when you drag the pad of your finger upwards, locating your g-spot with ease because you're used to it.
“And then, two fingers.” 
“Mhm.” 
“Look at the position of my hand. I read that these two fingers work the best because they're longer than the rest, although…” you look at Mingi's hand over your belly. You didn't even notice before this that he was touching you, but he is and his thumb is tracing a pattern that both relaxes you and sends shivers down your spine “I'm sure that it won't be a problem for you, huh?” 
He sends a cocky smirk your way and you would've smacked him if you weren't so… preoccupied. 
Pressing your precious spot and then dragging back and forward, you stop the movements altogether. It felt too good, way more than good and it's a different sensation of what you're used to. 
And it's all because of him. 
You look at his side profile, his eager eyes commiting to memory what you're doing to yourself, probably taking mental notes now that his notebook is long forgotten over at your desk and… 
He deserves this. He deserves to be the one to have this, just tonight. 
You hate to leave what feels like it's about to be your best orgasm in the hands of someone who's just learning, yet alone a man.
But Mingi is not just any man. 
“Mingi,” you call and his curious eyes leave your heat a second later “your turn.” 
“Did you… Did it happen? I didn't see anythi—” 
“No,” you interrupt him, your fingers leaving you and you turn to him, your clean hand finding his face “show me what you learned.” 
His mouth parts, but you have a newfound confidence and a glint in your eyes that is new, so nothing comes out. 
“Prove that bitch wrong.” 
That seems to do it. 
His eyes go from being confused to spark with determination and want and electricity runs through you again because he seems so relieved he gets to touch you sooner than expected. 
Shyness and nervousness buried six feet under, you both smile to each other before you feel him. 
His fingers gathering your wetness, his thumb finding your clit with ease and expertise. 
“Wettest pussy I've ever touched.” You can tell he's a little lost in the heat of the moment but it's okay. So are you. 
Fuck. 
It's been way too long since someone else touched you this way, so you all but melt at the circles he draws on your clit. He paid close attention before, because he's touching you just the way you like it. 
“That feels so good…” 
“Yeah?” he asks, dark eyes finding yours before a particular stroke forces you to close them. And then he gathers enough slick to insert his ring finger inside and you can't help the moan that slips past your lips. 
You lift your hand to cover your mouth, but Mingi clicks his tongue in feign disappointment “I want to hear if I'm making you feel good, love. Don't hold back on me just because this is unconventional.” 
The worries die altogether with that. 
And now that you have free reign to stop containing yourself, you don't know how to stop. 
It's not long before his middle joins his other finger but he doesn't go for it right away. He fucks you slowly, allowing you to get used to the unfamiliar stretch of his way longer, way thicker digits until they slide in and out with little effort. 
His pace picks up after what feels like ages and your hand fists his shirt for the second time tonight, nodding and moaning in encouragement. 
“Deeper,” you instruct “curl them upwards and go deeper, you'll feel it then.” 
He obeys immediately, his chest heaving and his mouth parting in delight when he finds it. The pad of his finger presses down on it tentatively and your grasp on his shirt hardens.
“Is that it?” you nod and he does it again, which earns another moan “What do I do now?” 
Before you completely get lost in the feeling, you decide to drop the step by step bullshit aside and give him the full instruction in hopes that he'll remember it all without fucking up: “What works for me is pressing… Fuck, yeah, just like that a-and then…” you take deep breath “Just a little harder… Yeah, then rub it in a circular motion while maintaining that same pressure… Fuck, Mingi!” 
He's a little too good at following instructions, because he touches you like he's been doing this forever and soon you feel the familiar swell, the usual buildup of it all and he's taking you over the age like it's nothing. 
You forget how to speak, you forget how to tell him what he needs to do next and so, when you finally explode, you take his wrist and place his two fingers over your clit. 
When you move them side by side, he lets out a fascinated giggle but knows exactly what to do. 
A second later, your release is coating your thighs and the towels underneath you and you don't register anything else because your ears are ringing. 
Did you lose consciousness for a second? It feels like you did. 
That was the best fucking orgasm you've ever felt in your entire life. 
And when you come back down, you only register the sound of your breathing and plump lips kissing your face, his fingers stopping their pace once he realizes you're done with it. 
Opening your eyes, you stare at your popcorn ceiling for a second. Then, you look at Mingi who's already staring at you with a what the fuck just happened expression. 
It makes you laugh. Softly at the beginning, post-orgasm bliss takes over but then Mingi laughs too and your whole chest swells with inexplicable pride. 
You don't think twice before kissing him again. When you realize you did it, you pull back and blink at him like he didn't make you see stars three seconds ago. 
“That was…” his eyes do the thing he usually does. You never notice it until now, but he scans your face so frequently you've grown used to it, but now… It feels different. His teeth nip his bottom lip and he shakes his head before speaking “Come here, love.” 
And then he's kissing you again, slow, intimate, beyond the stupid lesson you just taught him. 
But you don't mind it one bit. 
You sit up, getting on your knees on the bed and basically forcing him to do the same. Ignoring the gross sensation of the wet towel underneath you, you pull him further into you until his chest presses against yours, until his hands roam your body and settle on your waist, securing the embrace. 
This time, when you pull away, there's this whole unspoken new thing between you. 
“That was…?” you press, smiling a bit, pulling both you and him back to reality. 
Right now, with you half naked and his hard-on pressing on your belly, it's not the time to discuss your feelings. 
“Possibly the coolest thing I've seen,” he starts, giggling when you roll your eyes “and the hottest thing I've seen, too,” you shrug, dismissing his stare because it's making you feel hot all over your body, again “and I'm really, really grateful you said yes, love.” 
The soft tone he uses to say the last bit relaxes you and you nod, deciding it's not the time to tell him you never even came like that on your own. 
Instead, you decide to grasp this intimate moment and extend it as much as you can. You can see Mingi is not expecting it when you reach his sweatpants and let your shaky thumb trace the outline of his cock. 
Closing his eyes, he lets out a pleased sigh before he grabs you by the back of your neck and rests his forehead against yours. 
“This is supposed to be purely educational, Y/N” 
“Is that what you want it to be?” you softly ask, pulling your hand away but then his hips buck and chase after your touch, making you smile despite the emotions swelling in your chest “Let me help you… Please…” 
“Fuck, don't beg me, love.” 
“Don't make me beg, then.” 
What the fuck are you even doing? 
“Y/N, I—” he stops suddenly and you're too lost in the moment to notice why. 
But then the sound of keys and a door closing downstairs scares the fuck out of you and you push Mingi away without thinking it through. 
He lands with a thud on your bedroom floor, next to your discarded clothes. 
“What the fuck, Y/N?” he whispers-shouts, both shocked and offended, but you're getting off your bed and picking up your clothes and the soaked towels so you don't really care about his feelings right now. 
“Bathroom. Now.” 
You're so blessed for having your bedroom right next to the upstairs bathroom. And so blessed that it is your bathroom and you don't have to share it. You’ll get on your knees and thank your gods afterwards, but right now you can only think one thing.
Don't get caught. 
Lord knows you'll never hear the end of it if Mingi walks out of here with a hard-on. Your dad will kill him, your mom will cheer because she loves the idea of you and Mingi together and you'll probably pack your bags and move away if it happens. 
When you lock the door behind you and make a quick show of putting your underwear and pants back on, you hear Mingi chuckle. 
“We can always tell them we're having a sleepover, Y/N, you didn't have to karate kick me off the damn bed!” 
“Hush!” But he just keeps giggling at your very obvious flustered state.
You're about to rip him a new one when he takes two strides, backs you against the bathroom sink, and catches your lips in a quick, sweet kiss and all your worries dissolve just like that. 
“Guess they didn't go for drinks after all..” 
“You think?” cocking your head to the side, the smile on your lips can't be fought at this point. 
He returns it and leans in for another kiss, longer this time and you sigh against his mouth before pulling away because you really, really shouldn't be doing this right now. 
You hear your mother calling your name and then footsteps up the stairs. A murmured she must be sleeping and a hum from your father before they pass the bathroom door. You truly only relax when you hear their door closing at the end of the hallway. 
“Okay, we're safe now.” 
“When were we ever not safe?” 
“When I was half naked on my bed, Mingi!” 
He shakes his head with a smile and takes a step back. 
You clear your throat. 
“I really did want to help you out but—” 
“Raincheck?” he asks and at your hesitation to say yes, he continues “If you want to. If you don't, it's okay. We… We'll figure it out, okay?” 
“Okay.” 
He smiles again “Good, uh…” 
Mingi seems unsure on what to do next. Feeling the same, you decide the best thing to do is to get him out of here. 
Opening the bathroom door, you carefully peek into the hallway, taking his hand in yours and beckoning him to follow you down the stairs, trying to make as little noise as possible. 
“Shit, your shoes…” you whisper. 
“I don't think they noticed if they didn't barge into the bedroom to check on us like they usually do, love.” He returns, in the same tone. 
That does nothing to ease your mind, but he makes sure to put them on quickly and then grabs your shoulders, shaking you in a teasing manner. 
“Quit worrying, Y/N. I can feel you thinking.” 
Of course he does. There's no one, in this world, that knows you better than him. 
It makes your heart flutter and it shouldn't. But you're getting on your tippy toes and stealing a parting kiss before you think about it too much. 
It's irresponsible for you to do so, but Mingi grabs your waist and extends the duration of the kiss and suddenly you don't give a fuck about your parents or anyone else finding out about this… shift in your dynamic. 
“See you tomorrow?” he asks against your lips and you nod. 
“See you tomorrow.” 
And with that, he leaves. 
You lock the door and practically run to your room after. 
What the fuck have you done?
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If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated and since it’s an open ending (sort of), let me know if you want a second part! 
© jensthwa, 2024.
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chuluoyi · 1 year ago
Text
✎ rivals... in love?
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- gojo satoru x reader
gojo is in shambles—so suguru might have a crush on you too?
genre: high school!gojo being a menace but pls spare him he just can't take losing, you see... crack, totally jealous!gojo, justice for geto, enemies to lovers, fluff
note: people have been asking for this so this is up next! i'm writing this while listening to bigbang's bang bang bang and fantastic baby so if gojo is a bit unhinged... you know why
a part of gojo's love entries
general masterlist
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No way. There is just no way.
Satoru felt his eyes itch and twitch uncomfortably. Despite the opaque black tint of his sunglasses, he could still distinctly see you happily giggling.
“Geto-san, that’s so funny!”
With Suguru. His ride or die. Your massive crush.
Your crisp laughter rang in his ears, scorching his ego and igniting it in flames—that was precisely the reaction he had hoped to receive from you too!
"Aren't they just cute?" Yaga was suddenly beside him with a wistful smile, looking at you and his other student a few feet away. "What do the television say again... a perfect match? In this case, a perfect match made in jujutsu school, then."
And responding to your bubbly self, creating the very picture of perfect match made in jujutsu school indeed, Suguru was every bit as enthusiastic. “Nah, wait until you see this—”
"Perfect match my ass," Satoru grumbled outwardly, rolling his eyes, but he immediately dashed away before his teacher could bonk him in the head for cussing.
It was harmless conversation, or jokes, or whatever. Because Suguru couldn't possibly reciprocate your feelings. His type is women of gravure magazines—Satoru had deemed it as such.
…Right?
At this point, he wasn't in enough denial to say that he didn't like you, because he had made it so clear that he was, in fact, obsessed. He wasn’t shying away from the things he did, which included annoying you constantly, asking you out after school, helping you in missions, and sending you few pick up lines here and there.
And he thought he was certain he could whisk you off your feet. After all, who else could measure up to him and win?
Heh, no one.
(or basically that's just him ignoring the intrusive little voice in his mind that whispered, “Suguru!”)
“So what's with the nice act, huh?” Satoru blew his bangs in a huff as he questioned his best friend with a twinge of dissatisfaction. “Do you like her or something?”
Suguru quirked his eyebrow at him. “What?”
“Don’t play dumb. I have noticed how you two have been joined at the hip lately,” and with deliberate intention to spite his best friend, he made the sourest face as he mockingly recited, “Wait till you see this~”
Instantly realizing what he meant, Suguru burst into a loud snicker. “Come on, Satoru, really? Surely you aren't that petty. We were just chatting—”
“Not that. I know. What I'm asking now is that do you like her or not?”
It wasn't a rare sight to see Satoru with a pout and a frown, and usually he'd humor him. But this time, even Suguru could see that there was something different in the way he asked this. And should he say something that irked him then—
“Heh, so what if I am?”
That's the wrong answer.
Satoru halted abruptly, whipping his head around in sheer shock. "What the heck?"
“She’s a nice junior, kind, easy on the eyes,” Suguru shrugged, flashing him a dauntless smile. “Only a fool would let the chance pass up. Satoru, if you keep dawdling, one of these days, I just might—”
“Wha—hey!? That’s totally foul—!”
“Nah, they do say all is fair in love and war now, isn’t it?”
By a mind-boggling twist of events, apparently his best friend was also a guy after his dream girl. Satoru was irked, challenged, and he would never admit it, but a tiny part of him recoiled because Suguru clearly had an early start and a boost—you favored him first.
This was unexpected, and now he was conjuring up various scenarios of what he should do. He must act fast or else...
Little did he know that Suguru was thoroughly relishing his restlessness.
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Everyone around you said that your relationship with Gojo Satoru... is intriguing to say the least. And especially ever since that one botched mission you two went, you also felt there was a shift in your dynamics.
And if by intriguing they mean him constantly blocking your way and invading your space, then yes, it definitely is.
"Okay, okay, but wait, just hear me out!"
You halted your steps and faced him with an annoyed frown. You really had no time for this. You were about to be sent on a mission. "Gojo, really, can't you just—"
"Okay, I know he's dashing, or whatever," he huffed, the last word he said with a hint of disdain. "But hear me out, and I'm sure you'll reconsider."
"Who are you talki—"
"Who else!? Suguru, of course!"
You couldn't possibly arch your eyebrow even higher, and before you could say anything, he somehow took it as his cue to keep going.
“First, he eats curses. Cursed spirits! He eats them like rice balls! Can you imagine just how foul the taste is?”
"Gojo, I don't have the time—"
"Then! Going from that, just imagine kissing him," he stressed, eyeing you intensely as your own eyes felt like popping out by the sheer suggestion. "What if you taste the cursed spirits rice ball?"
"You're unbeliev—"
"Wait! Can you even kiss him? What if his cursed spirits suddenly pop out of him? Are you willing to kiss his little friends—"
"He's your best friend!" you finally interjected, obviously and utterly in shock by his unhinged rambling. "How could you say all of that?"
"No, you're getting me wrong." Satoru's clicked his tongue. "I'm just listing facts why it's better for you not to end up with him."
You barked a dry laugh. "And? Better with you, you mean? That's awfully biased."
"Why yes of course! Self-promo is never bad," he blatantly retorted. "Let me just tell you aallll you need to know about me!"
He audibly cracked his knuckles and puffed out his chest. "You know already, I'm strong. I can protect you well. My cursed technique doesn't involve eating curses, so you don't have to worry about tasting the said curses on my lips."
How could he blurt all of this with that perpetually playful expression? A chuckle escaped you unwittingly and that only spurred him to go on.
"And I'm handsome!" he boldly claimed, pointing at his face with pride. "And obviously I don't need to say this, but I'm filthy rich—"
At that, you burst into hearty laughter, unable to hold it in any longer.
Satoru's eyes sparkled, lit as if someone had just made his day. "All in all, you know what I mean. Everything with me, all of it is going to be fantastic!"
Even you couldn't deny that all of this exchange had been so amusing. Hilariously so. "You're down bad, huh?" you tried to taunt, although it seemed like a burst of snicker. Yet, you were caught off-guard when he said:
"For you?" his little smirk made your insides suddenly all jumbled up. "Yes."
Huh? What is this? Your bravado faltered a bit as your heart did a somersault inside.
It wasn't supposed to thump this hard. You weren't supposed to feel this overwhelming urge to squeal too. And your face wasn't supposed to grow this hot...
Seeing that, Satoru celebrated his little win, a wicked smile on his glistening lips—that somehow looked rather attractive to you now. "How? Thinking twice now, are we?"
But he couldn't believe that after all this, you would still cunningly retort with, "Ha! You wish, Gojo Satoru."
His stunned face was so comical that you chuckled once again. You wanted to rebuff him more, but before you could, Haibara's voice called you from a distance. "Heeey! Let's go! Or we're gonna be late!"
"I suppose that's my cue," you lightly shrugged, and before you left him in a dust, you could've sworn you saw a flicker of brewing tantrum behind those glasses, which brought a smirk on your face. "See ya, try harder, and I might look at your way."
Satoru was at his wit's end as he saw you sauntering away. What more that he could do so that you could be his? To keep your eyes on him and him only?
And yet, little did he know, in that beginning of summer in 2006, even before you realized it yourself, you had already did.
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Epilogue
In another corner of the school, eagerly spying on you were...
"Wait! Can you even kiss him? What if his cursed spirits suddenly pop out of him? Are you willing to kiss his little friends—"
"Did he just..." Suguru gaped, utterly in disbelief at what his own best friend said of him. "Did he just say that?"
Shoko let out a satisfied guffaw. "Oh, he definitely did."
"I can't believe he's tarnishing my name over a girl."
"Well, you know very well he could do way worse than that just to get what he wants," she threw him a thin smile, while exhaling a puff of smoke. "And hey, you lose. You gotta pay me."
Suguru turned to her in surprise. "Huh? Oh—oh, darn it. Shoko, can't you be less stingy?"
"Well, whose bright idea was it to pull that stunt on him and bet on whether Gojo would approach her in less than a day?"
-> continue to extended cut !
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