#if you have seen it and feel like you're on the same vibe and want to chat... i'm here.

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Sprinkles Of Romance

PAIRING || CBF!Young!Tony Stark x CBF!Fem!Reader

WORDCOUNT || 6.8K

SUMMARY || When your dream of opening your coffee shop becomes a reality, you get a lot more than you bargained for. Not only do you get to fall in love with the shop, you also get to fall deeper in love with your best friend.

RATING || Teen (T)

TAGS || Bakery AU. Coffee Shop AU. Childhood Best Friends to Lovers. Mutual pining. Idiots in love.

A/N || SURPRISE! - I wanted to gift you all a special story, and I'm excited to share this story with you all after three weeks of no stories! From the bottom of my heart, I want to thank @ccbsrmsf1 for proofreading and picking this idea for me to write! It has given me the most warm, autumnal, and happy vibes during the writing, and I hope it will give you all a bit of the warmth I enjoy during this time of year! 🤍

A/N 2.0 || This is written for @elixirfromthestars's writing challenge! The prompts used in this story are Coffeeshop AU - Bakery AU - Saying I love you for the first time - “Would it be alright if I borrowed your sweater? It smells like you.” - “I’m only doing it because you’re cute.” - “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.” - “I’ve tried to forbid myself from falling in love, but now I can’t help it.” - “And when I felt like I was an old cardigan, under someone's bed. You put me on and said I was your favorite.”

All graphics are made by @nicoline1998enilocin

Main Masterlist || Tony Stark

Ever since you were a child, you and Tony were practically inseparable – or, as your mother would say, you two are glued at the hip. Wherever one of you went, the other came along, and this has always stayed the same throughout your life. Tony, Howard, and Maria moved into the house next to yours when you two were still babies, and from the moment you could walk and talk, you and Tony were constantly by each other's sides, getting into all sorts of trouble and going on different kinds of adventures, too.

Throughout it all, you two have also developed deeper, romantic feelings for each other, though neither of you has ever confessed to it to the other. Even though you're both well aware that your friends and family will always support your friendship, relationship, and shared dreams, it is still a hurdle you're unsure how to cross, as neither of you wants to lose the other.

Since you and Tony graduated from business school a few months ago – both getting a degree in how to run a business – you've been on a well-deserved vacation to Italy with all four parents. Still, now that it is over, it's time for you and Tony to return to the real world and hopefully see one of your dreams come true sooner rather than later.

Outside, the weather is turning chillier by the day, and autumn has fully settled over the small town you and Tony call home. The leaves outside are changing colors, and the decoration in your shared apartment has also had a make-over to an autumnal theme, adding to the atmosphere as the smell of freshly baked gingerbread cookies fills the air. While your best friend takes his time to put another batch of said cookies in the oven, the other ones are cooling on the counter, and you are in the middle of getting dressed after a shower.

In front of you is a life-size mirror, and you're checking yourself out from all angles as something about your outfit feels off. You're dressed in a pair of black skinny jeans, black boots, a black tank top, and one of your red flannels – a perfect outfit for the weather outside – but it's missing something. Then, as you walk back to your closet for the third time, it finally hits you. As the idea settles in your brain, you take off the flannel with a growing smirk before your feet pad over the hardwood floors of your apartment.

"Hi, Sprinkle," Tony says as he turns to greet you; the butterflies in your stomach are going wild as they always do when you're met with the sight of your tall, broad best friend. As you make your way up to him, he can't help but let out a shy smile, giving him an adorably sweet expression as you crane your neck to meet his gaze. Tony is a good few inches taller than you – you barely reach shoulder height when you're both standing barefoot next to one another – and it's something that has been a part of many of his fantasies about you, though he wouldn't dare to admit that to anyone.

"Can I ask you something?" you say softly. Even though Tony would never say no to you, you still put on your sweetest, most innocent voice to convince him either way. He hums as his gaze wanders over your soft features, the flushed skin from the shower you took earlier still there.

"Would it be alright if I borrow your sweater?"

It's a straightforward question, and Tony can't help but chuckle as he shakes his head slightly. Most of the sweaters he owns are already in your closet, and you could have picked any of those, but you still proceeded to ask for the one he's wearing. If he weren't already madly in love with you, he would be head over heels now, the butterflies in his stomach going wild as he steps closer to you.

"Hmm, I don't know. Why would you need to borrow the one I'm currently wearing when you have so many others already in your closet, ready to be worn?" he asks as he gently caresses your cheekbone with his thumb, his voice dropping lower while his breath ghosts past your cheek as he leans in a bit.

"Uhm… b-because it smells like y-you," you stammer, and Tony shows a satisfied smirk before humming again, letting you know he heard your answer.

"Alright, my sweet Sprinkle. You can have my sweater, but I'm only doing it because you're cute," he tells you with a smile; the heat you were feeling on your cheeks earlier is now soaring through your entire body as he steps back and removes his sweater. Tony's shirt rises a little as he does, giving you a glimpse of his toned abdomen and the little trail of black hair leading into his pants.

The sight before you leaves you nothing short of breathless, and your heart threatens to pound out of your chest as nothing but pure desire courses through your veins. You've seen him shirtless more times than you could count, but seeing him like this will always be some of the happiest parts of your fantasies about him.

"Sprinkle?" Tony says again, and you snap out of your daydream as you realize he's holding out his sweater for you to wear. As you take it, your fingers brush over his, sending a jolt of electricity through your bodies, letting you know you two are even more connected than you thought possible.

"Thank you," you respond before pulling the oversized sweater over your head. The soft and warm fabric feels like you're getting a hug from Tony. His scent envelops you entirely as you curl into the sweater, the sleeves falling over your hands as they fall into place. The entire time, Tony can't help but admire how his sweater looks on your frame and how perfect you look when wearing his clothes.

Then, the little bell from the oven pulls you both from your thoughts as the next batch of cookies is done, and a pang of disappointment surges through your body for a moment. The moment was perfect, but now it's over, and you must return to reality again.

"Can I bring you back anything from the store?" you ask Tony after you've gathered your purse, keys, and phone, ready to head out and get some more snacks for the movie night hosted at your apartment later tonight.

"A few more bags of chocolate chips, please. Oh, and some peanut butter M&M's!" he says excitedly, and you nod before saying your goodbyes and heading out the door. After putting on your headphones, you head to the store, which is only a 10-minute walk from the apartment. As you look around you, coziness and warmth envelop you, as autumn has always been your favorite time.

The scent of freshly fallen rain hangs in the air as you take your time; your pace slows as you enjoy your surroundings, but something catches your eye. Across the street, there's a large sign saying the store is for rent, and you can't help but go over, wanting to get a closer look. Right next door to the empty store is your favorite bookshop, and on the other side is a small restaurant, which fills the air with the rich smells coming out of its kitchen.

As you look inside, you have a perfect view of the store, which is illuminated by the golden rays of the sun coming through the floor-to-ceiling windows. It's a large space that allows for many possibilities, but the first that comes to mind is one that you and Tony have been dreaming of for years: a bakery with a coffee shop section built in.

Your fantasies come to life before your eyes as you imagine yourself behind the counter, making coffee while your best friend is working on the most delicious pastries that will fill the display with lots of colors. The smells fill the store as soft music plays, and laughter and conversations can be heard. Outside, people can enjoy the sun in the seating area and come in to see what you have to offer.

As you stand there, thinking about all the possibilities, you've completely forgotten about going to the grocery store, as all you can think about now is calling Tony and telling him your thoughts. Between the moment you grab your phone and the moment Tony answers your FaceTime call, barely 5 seconds pass before you're met with his beautiful smile, and a warmth spreads through your chest at the sight.

"Miss me already, Sprinkle?" Tony quips as he answers, making you laugh heartily.

"You know I always miss you when I'm not with you, Tony, but that's not why I'm calling! I was hoping to get your opinions and thoughts on something, as I may have found a way to make one of our dreams come true!" your voice rises about an octave from pure excitement. Before you know it, Tony is on his way to where you're standing, barely five minutes from your apartment.

Within minutes, you see the handsome features of your best friend as he walks closer, and a flurry of butterflies goes wild in your stomach at the sight. His casual style – jeans, sneakers, and a leather jacket thrown over a henley he put on after you took his sweater – is something you've fallen in love with over the years, and it compliments his messy hair and facial hair, making his entire look a combination to die for.

"Hi, Sprinkle," Tony says as he pulls you in for a hug. You can't help but sigh as your cheek is pressed against the firmness of his chest. You can never get enough of his hugs, and you hold on for a little longer than you would with anyone else.

"What's the sigh for?" Tony asks when pulling away, and you feel a burning heat in your cheeks at his question, your gaze avoiding his as you look at the pavement.

"I- Well…" you start as you wring your hands together, "I like hearing your heart beating when I put your head on my chest; it's calming to me," you confess. In any other situation, you would never admit something so personal, but with Tony, it feels right to do it, and you two never have secrets for one another – apart from your romantic feelings.

"You're too sweet, Sprinkle," Tony says with a deep red blush on his cheeks, his hands buried deep in his pockets before he does something stupid. He wants nothing more than to hold your hand or kiss you, but for now, he'll settle for what he can get from you, even if his desire tells him something different. He doesn't want to lose you by doing something stupid, as you're keeping him sane in this lifetime.

"So… what did you want to show me?" Tony then asks, curiosity ultimately getting the best of him now. A broad smile lights up your face as you turn around with spread arms, gesturing towards the store you've been standing in front of the entire time. A large sign telling you that it's for rent is sitting a little to the left of where you're standing, and that's when the coin drops for your best friend.

"You—you want to open a store here?" Tony asks, disbelief shining through in his voice. Not because he's against it in any way—it's been his dream for years already—but because you're not usually the type of person to bring up ideas like this.

"Well, I'd like to have a good look inside first, but from what I can see, I think it's the perfect place to open our bakery and coffee shop! We're right next to the bookstore, which is perfect for when people buy books and read them with some coffee and a treat," you tell him, and he nods in agreement. The placement is excellent, and within 20 minutes of calling the number printed on the large sign, there's a showing scheduled.

"I can't believe we're finally making the first steps to make our dreams come true," you tell Tony as you're still standing in front of the empty store, your hand in his as you squeeze it excitedly. He grabbed it during the phone call to ground himself, and neither of you has let go yet – it feels too good to let the other person go just yet.

That night, when you have your friends Natasha Romanoff and Bruce Banner over for movie night, you can't stop telling them all about your plans, and when you've explained it all to them, you can't stop smiling. The idea of opening a store with Tony has been on your mind for years, and now that it's closer than ever, it's like your entire life is going into a whirlwind of emotions in the best way possible.

It's been a week since Tony made the appointment for a showing inside the store, and you're having breakfast at the dining room table together. While Tony is dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt, you're wearing your favorite Iron Man pajamas because they're warm and fluffy, perfect for the cooler weather outside.

"How're you feeling about today?" Tony asks between bites of his cereal, and you take a few moments to think about it before answering him.

"Nervous, but excited, too. We've wanted this for so long, and now that it might finally be happening, I can tell that there are a lot of nerves settling in my body," you tell him honestly, and he nods in agreement.

"Me too," he says softly, his gaze meeting yours as you stretch out your hand. His fingers intertwine with yours as he looks at you, a warm smile gracing his stunning features. His facial hair has become a bit more of a beard now, which suits him and only intensifies your feelings for him.

"We're going to be okay, though. We've always done everything together, and this won't be any different," he says, and you nod. Wherever one of you goes, the other will always come along, and it will be that way until the day you die. Then, as you're about to say something, Tony's phone suddenly grabs your attention as he's receiving a call. As soon as he sees who's calling, he turns the screen to you, showing you it's Maria.

“Buongiorno mamma, come stai?”

Each time Tony speaks Italian, you can feel your insides going crazy, as it drives you wild in the best way possible. While you've been attempting to learn Italian over the years, wanting to surprise Tony, something always came along that got your attention instead, so you could never practice enough without letting him know about your plans. While he would be the best teacher, if you want to surprise him one day, you'll have to find a different way.

"We're good; I was just talking to Sprinkle about the showing," he says, and you smile as he mentions you to Maria.

"It's this afternoon, but I'll update you and Dad, okay? I'll tell her you said hi, and I love you, too. Ciao," he says before hanging up, returning his attention to you.

"Mom said hi, and she asked when the showing was even though I told her three times already," he tells you with a chuckle. While Maria is one of the sweetest women you've ever met, she's sometimes not the best at remembering things.

"It's lovely of her to call. I always love how well you and she get along," you tell Tony, and he can't help but blush profusely at your words. He's always been a mama's boy, and he's aware of this fact, but when it's pointed out, he still can't help but turn red – though at the same time, he also loves it because he's very proud of the bond he and Maria share.

Shortly after breakfast, you and Tony are ready to head to the showing, which goes on without a hitch. You meet your landlord – a cheerful man with an Australian accent who introduced himself as Thor Odinson, and before you know it, you're in love with the space. Inside, there's a lot of potential for seating; during the summer, the seating area can be extended onto the sidewalk, too. There's a large counter that can be used as the place where you make coffee and display the pastries. In the back, there's an extensive stockroom and a large kitchen that will be turned into a workspace for Tony, as he will do most of the baking once the shop opens.

"So, what do you think?" Tony asks as you're standing in the stockroom together - Thor has left the two of you alone for a moment after excusing himself to pick up a phone call.

"I think we should go for it. The place has a lot of potential, as you saw, and I think Thor is also very nice," you tell him, and Tony nods. You two are lucky to have a landlord like him if you rent the shop, as he seems to be a hardworking, honest guy who's also in for a joke now and again.

"I agree, Sprinkle. Let's make our dreams come true," Tony answers softly before pulling you in for a hug. The way his arms wrap around you so effortlessly has your heart beating like crazy, your insides feeling like they're on fire as you settle in your best friend's arms. You're about to take the most significant step of your life, and you're happy that you get to do it with Tony.

Within 30 minutes, you, Tony, and Thor go over all the essential details for the lease, and then it's time to sign. Your gaze is trained on Tony as he gets ready to sign, but not without one last look of reassurance. It will all be okay, as you will do it together. There's never one without the other, and it won't be any different during the project of your dreams. When both your signatures are on the lease, Thor thanks you both with a firm handshake, wishing you good luck before he must go to another appointment.

You're holding the keys to your shop and a black, gold, and dark green business card that reads 'Loki Laufeyson | Interior Designer' on it. He comes highly recommended by Thor – though he also said that even though Loki is his brother, he's not just recommending him because of their bond. He's genuinely good at his job, and you don't have a reason to doubt his words.

It's official: you will open your own bakery and coffee shop with your best friend –the man you love. Your dream will come true in a few months, and before you know it, another one of yours will also come true, bringing a lot of joy to your soon-to-be busy lives.

The past few weeks have been busy, exhausting, and rewarding all at once because even though you and Tony spend almost every single one of your waking hours in the shop to make it nothing short of perfect, it's also going to be an experience you only get to live through for the first time once. You're trying to soak up every second of it. Luckily, you also have help on most days from Loki, who spends his time overseeing the project from an interior designer's perspective, and your friends and family; they all help lighten the load a bit for you both.

Today, Bruce and Natasha have been helping for most of the day, and they have just gone home, leaving you and Tony to finish up for the night. You're sitting on the floor in the middle of the shop, dust, tools, and tarp everywhere, together with a few Chinese take-out boxes around the two of you, when you suddenly hear a noise you can't quite place.

"Do you hear that?" you ask, and without waiting for an answer, you get up, your feet taking you to the source of the noise. On closer investigation, you can hear a soft meow from the back of your shop, where the backdoor is open to let the paint smell evaporate.

"Tony?" you say softly, not wanting to scare the little creature away, as they've most likely been looking for a place to stay warm. The weather outside has taken a drastic turn the past few days, with more rain than you've seen in a long time, and temperature drops to below 50 degrees Fahrenheit regularly. Within seconds of your calling for him, you hear your best friend's footsteps and raise your hand to alert him, as you don't want to scare away the little being in your shop.

"Is that- "

"A cat? Yeah. I think he's looking for a place to stay warm," you say as you bend down to greet the small cat; he won't be much older than a year at most. He's very fluffy, even though he has just come from the rain, and his brown and white fur perfectly complements his piercing blue eyes. He's the most beautiful cat you've ever had the honor of meeting, and you've met a lot in your years on this earth. As you stretch your hand, Tony sits beside you on the floor, and the cat seems courageous and friendly enough to come and say hi.

"He's so cute, Tony; I can't believe the cat distribution system brought us this little guy," you say with a broad smile, making your best friend smile in return. Right now, Tony considers himself to be the luckiest man in the entire universe to share this moment with you – seeing you falling in love with the little furball in your store has him falling in love with you all over again, even though he's afraid to admit it to anyone but himself.

From that night on, that same cat has frequented your shop almost every night, and you've started to bring in some food for him so he has a place to stay warm and get something in his belly, too. Now, he happens to be sleeping on the large windowsill in the front of the store when Loki is paying another visit, and he has immediately pulled all the attention from your interior designer to himself.

"Look at this; who's this little guy?" Loki asks as he bends down to pet him. It's a bit of a funny sight, the man in a sharp black and dark green suit kneeling on the dusty floor to pet the cat that has been stopping by your shop almost daily.

"He wandered into our shop a week or two ago and visited us nearly every night. We have been calling him 'Coffee Bean,' and so far, he seems to enjoy it," you tell Loki while sweeping the shop floor. Tony is in the stockroom, installing some shelving while you've been busy in the front.

"Coffee Bean, huh? That's adorable," Loki says, and you can't help but smile at how he pronounces the name in his British accent. If Thor hadn't told you that his family adopted Loki as a baby, you would never have guessed the two were related, but their dynamic is fantastic. They've often been at the shop together and share a special bond that shines through in their work.

"Have you brought him to a vet to see if he's chipped?" Loki then asks, but you shake your head – usually, when Coffee Bean is visiting the store, it's either too late or you're too busy to have time to go, so you've been putting it off, though you also know deep down it's the right thing to do.

"I have a good friend who's a vet. His name is Bucky, and he's amazing with cats – even has one of his own," Loki tells you with a smile as he gets up before grabbing a business card from his shoulder bag. It says "James Barnes | Veterinarian," with a phone number and the opening hours of his clinic, which is very helpful.

"I thought you said his name is Bucky?" you ask, curiosity getting the best of you.

"You're right, I did say that. His full name is James Buchanan Barnes, but he tends to go by Bucky," Loki explains with a gentle smile before reorganizing his bag and getting ready to head out the door and to his next appointment. Once he's out the door, it's just you, Tony, and Coffee Bean, though what you don't know yet is that there's going to be a surprise guest swinging by later, even though their timing could have been better.

You and Tony have changed into coveralls to protect your clothes, as the time to start painting has finally arrived. It's been a task you have been looking forward to the most, and as Tony is mixing the color—a beautiful maroon—you're getting all the supplies, like brushes and rollers, ready. Then, as you turn around, something unexpected happens, and you're met with a splash of paint all over your body and the deep laugh of your best friend. When it finally sunk in what happened after a few seconds, a broad grin spreads on your features, and you bend down to grab a brush of your own.

"You're going to get it now, Stark!" you say before dipping the brush in the paint and splattering him with it, but you would soon come to regret that, as he's now following you with paint smeared all over his hands. It doesn't take long for him to catch you, pulling you against his body until you're so close that you can feel his breath on your lips. Your heart goes a mile a minute as you try to catch your breath, but it seems nearly impossible with him being so close.

And then, it's as if the world stops for a moment. There's nothing but you and Tony, your breaths mingling, and your closeness. But then, against all odds, you feel his hand cupping your cheek, the wet paint leaving a large handprint, though neither of you cares. Tony leans in first, your eyes slipping shut as he does. And then, when your lips barely ghost over one another, you hear an excited squeal, and you jump back as the thought of an intruder shoots through your mind.

Both you and Tony jump apart with heated cheeks, looking where the sound came from. Much to your surprise, you're met with the sight of Maria standing in the doorway to the shop – she has entered through the backdoor because she brought some décor to go on the walls once the paint was dry. Still, when she saw little Coffee Bean sleeping peacefully in the sun, she squealed from excitement, disturbing your almost-kiss with the man you've been in love with for as long as you can remember.

As you both face Maria, Tony's hand gently wraps around your forearm, letting you know he's close and everything will be okay.

"What were you two piccioncini up to before I came here?" Maria then asked, and Tony's cheeks turned the brightest red they'd ever been as he heard her calling you two 'lovebirds' in Italian. As soon as she saw the splatter of paint, the handprint on your cheek where Tony cupped it ever so gently, and how you two jumped apart at her arrival, she knew exactly what was happening, though she couldn't help but tease her son about it. She's seen her son fall in love with you over the years, and she's beyond ecstatic that he finally made a move, even if she interrupted it. Progress is progress.

"Oh, well- You know, painting," Tony says softly, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as his gaze is trained on the floor.

"Hm, maybe you should start painting the walls instead of one another, don't you think?" Maria quips with a wink, and then you remember the handprint on your face. It's been here the entire time they were talking, and now it's your turn to have cheeks that are practically on fire. Without excusing yourself, you rush to the bathroom – thankfully, you already have running water. As you're cleaning yourself up, Tony and Maria take the time to converse one-on-one.

"When will you tell her how you feel about her, Angioletto? She deserves to know how you feel, and based on what I saw before I interrupted you two, she feels the same about you. That woman has been head over heels in love with you for as long as I can remember," Maria says as she rests her hand on her son's shoulder. Even though she's wearing heels, she still has to crane her neck to look at him directly – it's safe to say he got his height from Howard.

"I don't know how, Mamma; I haven't found the right time. Honestly, I've forbid myself from falling in love, but I can't help it. She's such a sweet, caring, and kind woman, and she also has a smile to die for. I've never felt like this before, but at the same time, I'm also scared about what might happen if I confess- I don't want to lose her, Mamma," Tony says, tears brimming at his waterline at the thought of possibly losing you.

"Anthony, there's not a single universe where she'd leave you. You two have been through so much and are destined to be together. The universe has been waiting this long for you two to get together, which tells me it is meant to be. I can tell that Y/N has so much love for you, and you have so much love for her. Please, tell her how you feel because, honestly, if you're waiting for the right time, you'll wait for the rest of your lives and regret never telling her."

While Maria tells Tony all this, you can't help but overhear, and your heart is on fire at the words your best friend's mom has shared. She's also right because you have so much love for him, but you were afraid he wouldn't feel the same about you. Even though the paint is now washed off your face, the feeling of his warm, soft skin against your cheek is something you'll never forget, and the thought of it makes you smile again.

"You're right, Mamma, thank you," Tony says before leaning down and kissing her on the cheek, giving her a radiant smile as he does. Then, you walk back into the shop, acting like you didn't just hear their conversation.

"Hi, Maria," you say before hugging her, and she greets you as well before finally moving over to great Coffee Bean, who has now woken up. Coffee Bean purrs loudly under Maria's touch, and she can't help but feel proud – of Tony, you, and the cat slowly becoming part of your shop, too.

When her back is turned to the two of you, you dare to look at Tony, the memory of your mouths being so close you were breathing the same air still fresh in your memory. You don't get to think about it for too long, however, because the opening date of your shop is slowly creeping closer, and you still need to get a lot done, painting being the first thing.

The past year practically flew by for you and Tony. From the moment you signed the lease to the point you're about to open your shop for everyone to enjoy officially, it still feels like a blur, but you're incredibly excited. The road to get here hasn't been entirely without challenges, but you've managed to overcome every hardship with the help of your friends and family, all of whom are here today to support you.

A few days ago, your friend and artist Steve Rogers was busy making seasonal paintings on the window that perfectly fit the autumn theme. Pumpkins, leaves, pastries, and coffee are all painted beautifully in orange and brown tones, but the cherry on top is that he incorporated Coffee Beans into the art, too. He's sitting in the middle of the window with leaves falling all around him, making him the focal point of it, and he's meant to draw in as many customers as possible.

Today, you and Tony have been making the last arrangements – checking to see if all the coffee machines work, baking many pastries and desserts, creating different sandwiches, and rearranging the furniture until everything is perfect. It's time for the official grand opening in a little over an hour, so you and Tony have returned to your apartment to get changed, and the nerves are starting to set in for you both.

While you've opted for a sweater dress paired with black boots, Tony has chosen a business casual outfit that goes perfectly with your dress. You two look like the perfect pair – and after tonight, you will be the people everyone longs to be. Once back at the shop, you can already see a small line of people outside the door – you are running a special that the first 25 people will get free coffee and a pastry or dessert of their choice, and it seems it will work so far.

In the store, Wanda and Natasha are happily chatting behind the counter as they prepare for the upcoming crowd. Over the past few weeks, they have spent a lot of time here, getting to know each other and helping you and Tony out wherever necessary, and today is the first time they will officially run the front of the shop.

Howard, Maria, and your parents also chat in one of the booths Loki suggested you get. Thor, Bruce, and Tony have placed them perfectly, allowing customers to enjoy the sun as they sit by the windows. Finally, Coffee Bean is sleeping on one of the windowsills again, enjoying the sun like he has since the first day he set foot in your shop.

"Sprinkle, can I talk to you for a moment?" Tony asks, his heart beating so fast it's a miracle you can't hear it. His eyebrows are furrowed slightly as he looks at you, worry settling in your stomach. You nod before following your best friend into the stock room, where you have some privacy between the coffee beans and other stock. He grabs your hands, encasing them with his large ones as he looks into your eyes with his dark brown ones.

"I- uhm… I've been thinking about something for a long time now, and I have never found a moment more perfect to say it – until now. One of our dreams is about to come true today, but I want to make it two. I've been madly in love with you for the past few years, Y/N. There's nothing more I want to do than kiss you and show you the way an amazing woman such as yourself deserves to be treated. But most of all, I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine for as long as you'll have me," he tells you, and it's like all the air is taken from your chest.

Tony lets go of one of your hands, instead tucking a piece of hair behind your ear as he continues, "I want to feel your lips on mine, and I need to know what they taste like because the thought of them has been driving me damn near mad for years. Please, please let me kiss you, my sweet Sprinkle," he whispers the last few words until they're almost inaudible, but you hear them crystal clear.

"Okay," you whisper back, and with a large smile, Tony leans to capture your lips with his. Your lips are soft against his own, and the subtle vanilla flavor of your chapstick has suddenly become the favorite he'd ever had the honor to taste. Your hands pull Tony even closer, and with the softest of groans, he parts his lips to allow you to explore his mouth. For a moment, there's nothing but you and Tony as time has stopped, and your entire body is on fire as you take your time together.

Then, you pull away to the feeling like heaven is shining down on you. Even though you're left breathless, it's also the best feeling in the world, as you've finally had the chance to kiss the man you've fantasized about for years. Your mouth splits into a grin, your features lighting up the way Tony loves so much, and he can't help but smile right back at you.

"I'm in love with you too, Tony, and I've seen how you look at me when you think I don't notice. The way you steal glances when I'm reading on the couch or when we're walking through the town. Or when you can't take your eyes off me whenever I'm cooking or baking," you add, making him chuckle in response.

"But there's something else I need you to know, Tony. When I felt like an old cardigan under someone's bed, you put me on and said I was your favorite. You always make me feel special and loved; it feels like home with you. You're my home, Tony, and for that, I will love you most of all," you tell him, tears brimming in your eyes as you do. Whenever you feel like you aren't worthy of love, Tony has proven you wrong and shown you what it's like to be so loved that you're practically overflowing with it.

"I love you, Sprinkle. I always have, and I always will," Tony then says before capturing your lips one last time, as it's officially time to start the next chapter of your lives by opening your shop, which you named 'Coffee Bean Café,' after the cat that had nestled his way into your hearts when you started renting the shop. After one last peck on the lips, you and Tony go out of the stockroom, but not without interlacing your fingers first, which doesn't go unnoticed by Natasha.

As you walk by together, she winks at you to let you know she's proud of you, and you can't stop smiling as your cheeks heat up under her gaze. You don't get to think about it too long because it's time to open your shop. After Tony gives a heartfelt speech, followed by you, you officially open the doors for the public, and Natasha and Wanda get to serve all the customers.

"How're you feeling, Sprinkle?" Tony asks when you two finally have a moment to yourselves, and you're almost melting under the sweetness of his gaze. Now that you two have admitted your love for one another, it's impossible not to want to be close to him.

"Excited, but tired at the same time. I'm happy we finally opened our shop, but right now, I mostly want some sleep," you say, and your body emphasizes the point by yawning, making Tony chuckle.

"Me too, but I promise I'll make it up to you tonight with some cuddles on the couch; how does that sound?"

"Like I want to sneak out and get my cuddles now," you tell him honestly, and Tony can't help but laugh at your comment, making some heads turn in your direction. Neither of you notices, though, as you two only have eyes for one another.

"I love you, Sprinkle, and I can't wait to see where this journey will take us." Your boyfriend leans in to capture your lips in the softest, most loving way, showing your love for the coffee shop. Behind you, there's some applause and loud cheering, making you both smile into the kiss. This has been long overdue, but now you plan on making up for every second you missed.

While you and Tony share a lovely kiss, Natasha and Maria look on with huge smiles. Then, Natasha holds out her hand, as the two of them had a bet going about when you two would finally confess.

"I told you they would confess today," she says with an even bigger smile, and Maria fishes a 10 dollar bill out of her pocket, handing it to her as she nods her head in agreement.

Out of all the beautiful things that have come out of the opening of your shop, the friendship between Maria and Natasha is one of the most unexpected, but what's most important is their shared love for you and Tony, as both of them wouldn't want anything other than happiness for the two of you.

[machidielontheway]

finishing watching Damsel (netflix) and hmmm... i have a LOT of things to say, but you know what ? i don't want to spend 20mn writing all of this. so basically. the premise is quite good. the first part is different than what i expected and not my kind, but it's quite entertaining. there is one thing that to my tastes was VERY VERY GOOD (victoria&all.... <3). and then it all became garbage lol ok not garbage, but just disappointing in how it' sooo heavy handed. like girl power fantasy ok we get it but if it still somehow ends male fantasy visually speaking... and it increases exponentially to the end. the actress is quite good in the first bit (it feels like the line directive of the first part flew out of the window in the second) but in the second everything is just sooo caricatural it ruins everything. ideas good, execution bad. this is my own opinion based on my tastes and needs and i understand i can feel empowering or freeing for other peeps. it certainly did not for me. anyways. it's entertaining i guess !

[honeyhotteoks]

lessons in intimacy (k.ys)

summary: you didn't mean to actually meet the man who's audio porn was single handedly getting you off every night, but you do.

note: this has been a looooong time coming and is dedicated to one of my best friends, grace. 💗 i hope everyone enjoys this chaotic smut fest.... also i've recently discovered that porn is actually illegal to produce or consume in korea? so suspend your disbelief for this fic lol

warnings: camboy!yeosang/barista!yeosang x fem!reader, it's a smut-a-thon barely a plot in sight featuring - nsfw/audio porn, guided masturbation, female masturbation, male masturbation, lots and lots of orgasms, use of dildo, nipple play, one night stand dynamics except they kind of fall for each other, big and i mean big dick yeosang, oral sex (f receiving), gratuitous squirting, fingering, thigh riding/grinding, protected and unprotected sex (do not do this they're being hella dumb), rough sex, maaaaaajor praise play he says good girl more times than i can count, so much use of 'baby', plus pretty girl/babygirl, absolute pleasure soft dom yeosang of our dreams, reader literally passes out from coming you're welcome

pairings: yeosang x reader

genre: smut and more smut, where's the plot???

word count: 14.5K

additional note: yeosang owns a cafe in this fic called ongozisin, it's a real cafe in seoul and you can check out their ig here! the vibes are truly so yeosang i can't even articulate it, so i just wanted to share this for the extra visual!

Paid porn for women has tiers. You stumble headfirst into this realization with your fingers stuffed inside yourself and your body slick with sweat, and there’s nothing that takes you right out of your frantic self care session than a request for your credit card number and a terms of service page. 

Your chest is heaving, legs shaking, and you feel your orgasm slip right through your fingers as you skim over his Fansly page. You should have just skipped to another one of his free audios on Pornhub like you always do, but this week was long and stressful and slightly emotionally fraught, and there’s only so many times you can ignore his husky little ad at the end of the audio file inviting you to check out the full, uncut content. 

“Jesus,” You breathe, pushing yourself up in the bed and letting your phone drop to the side as you recover your breath. 

Are you really going to do this? Are you really going to pay for porn? The internet is full of it, spilling over from every angle with any little thing you can imagine. There’s a reason Rule 34 exists, people are horny and people love attention, so if you can fathom it there’s free porn of it. 

And yet, nothing ever, ever gets you there like he does, and you’ve never even seen his face. 

You glance down at your phone again and you see his familiar header image, a deeply contrasted black and white header of tangled white sheets, and his username striking across the corner in neon green. fromryu. This is what drew you in initially, the simplicity of it all. You were sick of skimming through all of the men making porn for women with names like ‘TheMasterDominant’, ‘Your_Daddy’, or ‘forherpleasureee’ and then just listening to them groan in your ear and call you a slut for fifteen minutes. That might work for some, but it definitely doesn’t work for you. 

Ryu was different, is different. His audios are a mix of scenario based role-plays and straight forward guided masturbation for women, and you’re pretty sure he comes right along with you when you listen, but it’s just not the same.

You’ve fucked yourself to every single one of his free audios. Some of them more than once, some of them several times, if you’re being honest. You’ve always ignored his ads, because he gives so much content away for free you can’t imagine what would be behind a paywall that would get you off harder, until today. 

Your brain just couldn’t get there. You’ve heard him chuckle that chuckle before, say that line before, coax you into orgasm with those exact words before, and you need more. 

Your credit card is firmly in your hand before you can give it another thought, and with a fluttering stomach you tuck yourself into a robe and back into bed to pick a tier. With a long sip of a fresh glass of wine you lean back in your pillows and read through his welcome page. 

His tiers make you smirk, he’s funny.

Third base, full uncut audios and one special audio per month just for subscribers – $4.99/month

Just the tip, uncut audios, one special audio per month, and access to a private discord server where subscribers can make audio request submissions – $9.99/month

Every inch (and more), uncut audios, exclusive audios, access to discord, exclusive video content, and access to a private Snapchat - $24.99/month

In for a penny, in for a pound, you guess. 

You click on ‘Every inch (and more)’ and plug in your card numbers before you have a second to rethink your decision. You really hope you don’t get hit with a fraud alert that you have to explain to some poor customer service representative. 

The wheel spins, the charge goes through, and suddenly you’re in. Your mouth has never been so dry. 

There’s dozens of videos, dozens. For every audio you’ve listened to on Pornhub, there’s a video that goes with it, and for every free piece of content there’s two times as much paid video content. $24.99 was nothing compared to how many hours of content you’re suddenly sifting through. 

There’s a common thread across every video though, you can already tell from the thumbnails, Ryu still never shows his face. Almost every thumbnail is the same, a white wall and a charcoal gray couch, and a man wearing oversized black sweatpants and a tight black athletic shirt. 

His knees are parted, legs spread open and casual, and his hands rest clasped between them. You swallow thickly at the sight of his arms. He’s built. His hands are so good looking you think idly that he should just be modeling watches or something, it’s ridiculous how nice they are. His skin is tanned, veins snaking up his forearms, and silver rings across several of his long, thick fingers. Can the sight of a man’s hands make you come? Your aching clit throbs. 

You skim through the video titles and tags to try and select one and your stomach twists. His videos are even more varied than the free content he posts and organized so well you think you might be in love with him already. 

There’s a folder for role play videos, and you skim through that quickly just to see. Neighbor overhears you moaning and comes to check on you, best friend takes your virginity, boss and secretary working late, brother’s best friend slips into your room at a sleepover, step-daddy teaches his babygirl a lesson. 

Your cheeks flush hot pink and you settle further into your sheets, backing out of this folder and navigating to your tried and true favorite.

Guided masturbation and encouragement. 

There are even more videos in this folder and you skim through any of those ones that say ‘exclusive’ in the title to avoid ones you’ve already heard parts of. The hashtags alone leave you breathless and you have no idea what to choose, every video cleanly tagged with what you’ll need to be able to keep up with his instructions. Hands only, rabbit vibe, hitachi wand, bullet vibe, dildo, butt plug, nipple clamps, lubricant, massage oil, blindfold, wrist restraints, ankle restraints, the list goes on and on.

You select one at almost random with the tags ‘hands and fingers’, ‘dildo’, and ‘optional squirting’. 

The screen starts black, and for a second you’re pretty sure something’s wrong, but then you hear him. 

“Hi everyone,” Your muscles melt, and you push your noise canceling earbuds deeper into your ears, “I have something a little special today,” 

You’ve never heard him talk so casually, almost like a vlogger or something. His voice hasn’t yet shifted into that deep teasing tone that kicks off every free video, and you’re already sold on every dollar you’ve spent when he starts to just chat. 

“I got a request from a special subscriber in my discord,” He says, “someone who’s become a friend and who confided in me that she’s never been able to make herself squirt,” 

Your breath comes a little more quickly. 

“It’s not easy to do, I know,” He says, tenderly, the screen still black, “and I want you all to know that if you’re still struggling after this audio, that’s okay. It takes time, and your body is not a sex toy. There’s not a perfect combination that works for every person with a vagina,” 

Your brow quirks at the inclusivity of his language choice and you smile a little, easing yourself down in the bed to keep listening to him. 

“But I’m going to do my best to help you,” He continues, “so while I get set up over here, I need you to get your own space ready. Get up out of bed or off the couch, but keep me with you, okay, baby?” 

You’re shaking and he hasn’t even said anything sexy yet. You don’t always listen perfectly to instructions, sometimes you skip ahead a bit and get to the good stuff just to get yourself off, but this time it’s different. You tuck your phone in your robe pocket and stand. 

“For this session,” You can almost see the smile in his voice and you try to imagine him, “you’ll need a couple of good towels laid out across your space. You’ll need to drink a big glass of water before we get started, and then I want you to find your best dildo, the one that really makes you come hard. The one that fills you up just right, that hits that tender little place you wish I was touching with my fingers,” 

He’s going to make you come so hard you see Jesus, you can tell already. 

“We need everything to be perfect,” He says, “and for you to be comfortable. Tonight is not the night to test out that new toy, okay? Tonight is for you and me, so go and get your supplies, and I’ll tell you all about my day. I’ll be your favorite little sexy podcast.”

As he starts warmly talking to his audience about his long lazy morning off work, you nearly crumble. You’re really not supposed to be getting a crush on this guy, but here you fucking are. He’s sweet, casual and laughs a little while he talks, and while you gather up the towels and the water and the frankly oversized dildo, you’re smiling. 

You hear him sit down and sigh and then his voice shifts, just a little, “Alright, baby, are you ready?” 

You sink back back down to sit on your own bed and you wait. 

“Just a reminder,” He says, “I will be using female descriptors throughout this video. If you’re uncomfortable with me calling you ‘girl’, like babygirl or good girl, or referring to you as a woman in any way, I am posting the similar content with male descriptors. If you’d prefer to hear baby boy or good boy, check the links below this video, okay?” 

You smile again. 

“Alright,” He hums, “now, where were we?” 

The camera clicks on and you feel the little gasp leave you. You almost forgot. 

He leans back on the couch and keeps talking, “That’s right, the lesson. Get settled over the towels, and if you’re wearing anything, it’s time to take it off for me.” 

You lay back over the towels and let your robe part open. 

“That’s so good,” He croons softly, “god, you’re so pretty, baby,” 

Your chest thumps hard. 

“Let’s start slow, okay?” His hands smooth over his thighs, “the key here is teasing, and I know how much you like it when I tease you.” 

Your hand rests on your own thigh, your other propping up the phone as you watch with rapt attention. 

“Touch your pretty thighs for me,” His voice is rich and thick in your ears, “that’s a good girl, there we go, nice and soft. Is your pussy wet? Did I do that to you again, pretty girl?” 

You’re barely breathing, eyes fixated on the screen as he strokes his own thigh through his sweatpants, slow and steady. 

“Are you aching?” He asks and you can’t help but nod, feeling like suddenly he can see you through the screen. 

“Touch just a little,” He murmurs, “but don’t jump ahead. Keep your fingers off your clit, we’re not there yet, sweetheart.” 

A little tight sound slips out of you as you follow his instructions. 

“Is your sweet slit wet?” He hums, and his hand slides up his thigh and rests over his stomach, “Are you throbbing?” 

Fuck. 

“Someday, baby,” He sighs and you watch him shift on the couch cushions, “I’ll taste you,” 

“Fuck,” You whisper. 

“But for now,” He’s smiling, you know it, “you just need to listen to me and do everything I tell you,” 

You’re nodding again. 

“I promise,” He says, “I’ll take such good care of you baby, if you listen, I promise to make you come.” 

Your stomach clenches, core fluttering, and you drift your fingertips up and down your slit, following the way his middle finger is slowly sliding back and forth on his abs. 

“Are you listening?” His voice goes husky and your head drops back into the pillows. Next time you’ll need a better way to watch him and listen and touch yourself, but you’re so incredibly desperate at this moment that it really doesn’t matter, you’ll make due. 

“You are, aren’t you?” He murmurs, “Good girl,” 

Your legs spread a little wider. 

He leans forward, you hear the rustling of the fabric and you snap your eyes back to the video to see him leaning forward, hands clasped together loosely, and you’re pretty sure you can see the outline of a bulge in his sweatpants. 

“Does it hurt?” He croons, teasing. 

You love him like this. 

“Take your hand away from your pussy,” He says, just a little more commanding, “right now, baby,” 

You pull it back reluctantly. 

“Close your eyes for a minute,” He murmurs, “spread your legs for me,” 

You comply immediately. 

“Tease your nipples,” He sounds a little breathier now and you fight the urge to watch the video, “do whatever feels good, touch your tits exactly the way you like it,” 

You roll your nipples, tugging them softly and kneading your breasts with both hands now that you’re not propping up the phone. 

“Imagine me with you,” He says, “feel my fingers sliding up your calves, my lips on your inner thigh, you can feel my breath against your sweet cunt, I know you can,” 

You’re about to come untouched, that’s the thought that rocks through your mind when your hips jerk on their own, his deep voice nestled right in your ear. 

“Look at you,” He muses, “squirming around, so fucking desperate for something inside you,” 

Your breath catches. 

“You’re so needy,” He continues, “are you making noise for me? Little pants, little moans? Are you trying to be quiet?” He clicks his tongue against his teeth, a soft scold, “Not with me, baby,” 

A moan bubbles up out of you. 

“Hands off.” 

Your eyes open immediately, and you don’t pull your hands away just yet, but you’re frozen still. You’re breathing hard, blush climbing up your chest, and your hips jerk slightly. If he doesn’t let you touch yourself soon, you’re going to lose your mind. 

“Good girl,” He says after a moment, “very good,” 

You drop your hands, scrambling for the phone so you can see what he’s going to do next. 

“Now watch me,” He instructs, holding his palm up to the camera, “take two fingers,” he separates his fingers, keeping his middle and index fingers tucked together, “and when they’re inside curl them just like this.” He crooks his fingers in a come-hither motion, “Just like this,” 

You slide your hand down your front, slipping your fingers through your soaked folds, but his voice makes you pause. 

“Go slow,” He instructs, “push them in nice and slow for me,” 

You follow his instructions. 

“There you go,” He sighs softly, “now curl your fingers,” 

You watch as he does it in the video and you follow instructions dutifully, your fingers brushing over your spongy g-spot. 

“Feel that?” He leans back, and the tent in his sweatpants makes you pant, “That perfect little spot that makes you whine so good for me?” 

You nod again, biting down on your lip, desperate to move but waiting. 

“When I say,” He slips his fingertips into his sweatpants, teasing you, “fuck your perfect pussy with those fingers,”

Sweat drips down your chest. 

His hand disappears into his sweats and he groans, “Now,” 

You don’t have to be told twice. 

“Harder,” He says, throaty and low, “I know you can,” 

A tight sound slips out of you as you work yourself, but you nearly fall apart when you watch him push down the top of his sweats. His cock is huge, there’s no other way to say it. Thick and perfect, aching pink at the head and when he wraps his hand around himself you feel the tense knot of your orgasm rushing back. 

“Oh, f-fuck,” You scramble in the sheets, pulsing your fingers in and out just like he told you to. 

“Look at you,” He says again, “fucking yourself for me. I bet you’re imagining my fingers, aren’t you? Just like I’m imagining your dripping pussy,” 

Pleasure rocks in your gut. 

“Use your other hand,” He instructs, “rub that clit for me,” 

You drop the phone like it’s hot, and you have to crane your neck to see the video, but it doesn’t matter. He’s given you the perfect permission to do exactly what you need and you have to take it. 

“Does that feel good, baby? Yeah? Do you feel like you need to come for me?” His voice gets closer to the microphone and you’re rapidly approaching the edge, “You’re so close, fuck, listen to you,” 

“God, oh god,” Your legs are trembling. 

“Do you see how hard you make me?” His fist jerks over his cock faster and your mind is unraveling, none of his other audios feel like this, “Do you know how much I want to see you come?” 

Pressure drops in your belly. 

“Fuck,” He pants, “you’re almost there, I know you want to come for me, but not until I say,” 

It’s happening whether he wants it to or not, whether you want it or not, and your fingers bear down harder on your clit, your eyes locking closed, head falling back. 

“Hands off,” He’s not teasing anymore, he’s telling, “right now, babygirl, hands off.” 

You pull your hands away and it’s possible that nothing has ever felt as bad as this one stolen orgasm. Your hands are shaking, body flushed and slick with sweat, and if any of your neighbors are up they are probably getting an earful. 

You lock eyes with the video again and his hands rest on his knees, cock standing tall and at attention, edging with you. 

“Get that dildo nice and wet,” He says, and you search your sheets for the silicone cock, “in your mouth pretty girl, imagine that’s my cock between your lips,” 

He strokes his hand slowly down his length, smearing a bead of precum down to the base of his shaft as you dip the cock between your lips and take it as far in your mouth as you can. 

“It’s time to come,” He soothes, like he knows you’re a whining, quivering mess, “I know you need it,” 

The dildo pops free from your mouth and you watch as he lifts the hem of his shirt to expose the smooth plane of his abs, “Fuck yourself with me, sweetheart,” 

Pleasure pops through you as you press the toy to your hot channel. 

“Nice and fast,” He pleads, thrusting into his fist, “don’t stop this time, not until you come,” 

The bubble inside you expands again, pressure everywhere. 

“Just trust me,” He whispers in your ear, “don’t stop. I’ve got you, I’m right here, you let go baby. Don’t fight it,” 

Your back arches up off the bedding, the muscles in your arm aching as you thrust the toy in and out of yourself, pressing it up again and again into your g-spot. 

“Come, baby,” He sounds like he’s begging, and your free hand flies down to grip the sheets, “let go, you come, that’s it, there you go,” 

You turn your head, catching sight of him again and the way he works himself over. 

“There we go,” He groans sharply, his own release spurting up ropes of cum onto his exposed chest, “can you feel me inside you? Come with me, that’s a good girl, good fucking girl,” 

He sounds dizzy, panting himself, you’ve never heard him quite like this and one final thrust sends you spilling over the edge. Your vision whites, body locking up in ecstatic pleasure, and you clap a hand over your lips to stifle the moan that rips out of you. 

It takes a minute to come back from that. Your ears ringing, and the dildo slips out of you with a final pulse from your shattering orgasm. He’s talking, you register it, but his voice sounds far away and you realize that you’ve lost your earbuds. You scramble to get them back in, pulling the video up to your eyes. 

“-And that’s okay,” He’s saying, his cock tucked away and his shirt back down, “you can try again another time if you didn’t quite get there,” 

For a second you’re confused, it was the hardest orgasm of your life, but then you remember this was intended to be a guided masturbation to squirt and you blush, alone in your apartment, at the fact that you didn’t quite get there and he’s talking to you. 

“It’s all about the build up,” He explains, “but I’m sure with a little practice we can get you there.” 

You’ve never really cared about squirting until now, but he makes it sound like a perfect date and something tells you that you’ll be back here again night after night if he’ll have you. 

“Anyway,” He sighs and you hope he’s smiling above the camera, “thank you for spending a little bit of your day with me, I hope I made you feel as good as you made me feel,” 

You blush again. 

“I’ll see you soon,” He assures, gentle like a lover would, “sleep well, jagiya,” 

The video cuts and you blink hard, you’re still smiling. 

You are so, so fucked. 

After that, Ryu becomes a problem. You wish it was just the videos and the dirty talk and the good orgasms, but it’s more than that. You just like to hear him talk now, the little bits at the beginning about his day are starting to get into your head. And then there’s the Snapchat. 

You kind of expected the private Snap to be sexy photos and videos of him in the almost pitch dark huskily saying good morning, but it isn’t. You still have never seen his face, but his videos are casual, friendly, too real for a man you spend every night fantasizing about. He chats about things he’s doing or books he’s reading while he’s cooking, filming just shoulders down so you can watch the muscles in his arms while he chops vegetables. You fall in love with the sound of his voice when he’s just talking, his stretched out s-sounds that only really peek through outside of his constructed scenes. You find yourself missing him a little on days he doesn’t post. 

You’ve gotten used to waking up with him, falling asleep with him, checking in on him during the day. His message announcements in Snapchat don’t feel like they’re for everyone, they feel like they’re for you. You know that’s not true of course, you know you’re paying a hefty monthly bill just to feel like this, but you don’t care. It’s been a while, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t just need some company. 

It’s a Thursday when everything goes to shit. 

You wake up far too late, forgetting to set the alarm on your phone after falling asleep directly after yet another Ryu narrated orgasm, and everything has been off kilter since. You’re scrambling to get to work on time and every little thing is going wrong. Your coffee machine isn’t turning on, the sweater you want to wear is still in the wash, and your umbrella will not open despite the rain that’s ruining what would have been a good hair day. 

When you decide to stop into the coffee shop across from your office it’s not even a want, it's a need. You’re already thirty minutes late, why not make it forty-five? 

You’ve never come here, not once. You’re used to going to the shop around the block from your apartment, and this place is new. Ongozisin is the kind of place you’d normally take your time in. The space is clearly industrial, concrete walls and flooring made to look unfinished. The aesthetic is still warm though, with natural dark wood furniture and bamboo accents, Joseon era paintings and a juniper bonsai along the back wall. 

To the left side of the cafe stands a bay of tall windows and the very modern, very clean point of sale. The line isn’t too long, but you can see that the pace of this place is slower by design, so maybe you’ll just round up and call it an hour late. A door opens to your left and you watch as one of the baristas steps out from a kitchen holding two black plates of colorful, carefully constructed pastries. 

The line moves ahead of you, and the person behind you softly clears their throat to jog your attention. 

You step closer, only one person ahead of you now. 

When you hear his voice you nearly reach for your phone. 

“That’s perfect,” It’s Ryu, clear as day. His voice is distinct and deep and here. 

Your eyes snap up to the barista behind the counter, your body frozen stock still as you take him in, mind spinning. 

“Do you want any cream?” He says to the woman ordering. 

Blush lights up your cheeks and all you can think about is the video you watched the night before and his voice in your ear - Do you want my cum inside you, pretty baby? 

You should leave. There’s a reason this man is anonymous on the internet, never showing an inch of his face, and Ryu isn’t even his name, it's just what you call him. He never calls himself anything in the videos, never reveals what part of Korea he lives in, never talks about his job. He doesn’t want to be found. 

You’re about to turn, run, scramble away, but his voice comes again and this time you realize he’s talking to you. The man, Ryu, smiles, “Good morning, can I get you something?” 

You’re frozen. 

“Miss?” A little crease between his brows. 

“Sorry,” You jump forwards, ignoring the annoyed huff behind you and shaking off as much of this panic as you can, “I don’t know where my head is this morning,” 

“That’s alright,” He says warmly, “that’s what I’m here for,” 

You can’t say anything, your mind blanks. 

His eyes flick over you and then he nods, “You know, coffee? To wake you up?” 

“Right!” You nod, “Sorry, yes, an americano please,” 

“Iced or hot?” He asks. 

Are you feeling hot, babygirl? Do you need to take something off for me? 

“Hot,” You say it on a reflex but then you remember yourself, “no sorry, iced, iced please,” 

“Okay, sure,” He smiles, “iced,” 

You make it through payment without too much more embarrassment, apologizing again, and then you step to the side. Another barista appears, slotting into Ryu’s place so he can turn his attention to the drinks he needs to make and you take the moment to get composed. 

He’s handsome, that’s a given. You expected that, but still he looks even better than your imagination conjured up, more real. He looks exactly right for this cafe too, his black hair long enough to brush the base of his neck with half gathered into a ponytail, pieces loose to frame his angular face. He’s dressed smartly too, black oversized trousers and a fitted black t-shirt, slim black boots, and an open jacket in a dramatic modern-hanbok style. You realize you’re staring the minute his eyes hold on yours and they crinkle up as he smiles. He has a birthmark, a smooth light pink flush across his eye and your heart thumps in your chest. 

“Long night?” He asks you, passing off a coffee in a mug to the woman who had been ahead of you in line. 

He just puts you at ease and you nod, “Something like that,” 

“Ah,” He knocks out the round cake of used espresso from the portafilter as he talks, “and you look like you got caught in the rain, don’t you have an umbrella?” 

“Broken,” You grimace, “it’s been one of those mornings,” 

“Mm,” He nods, focusing on queueing up espresso for your americano, but while the shots pull he turns back to you, “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before?” 

You shake your head, “No, first time,” 

“Do you like it?” He gestures around with a nod of his head. 

“Very much,” You smile, “it’s a great space,” 

He smiles again, looking proud, “I’m glad you like it,” he says, “we haven’t been open very long, but so far people have seemed to enjoy it,” 

“Oh,” You watch him pour your espresso over ice, “is the cafe yours?” 

He nods, “Mine and my friend’s,” 

You wish you weren’t late, you wish you were able to stay just a little longer. 

“Well,” You tell him honestly, “it’s beautiful here, I’ll have to come in more often, I only work across the street.”

“Ah,” He nods, “I thought you looked familiar,” 

Blush creeps up your neck. 

“Did you need cream?” He asks and you hope he doesn’t notice the way your pulse quickens at his words, but he nods towards your coffee and you shake your head. 

“Thank you,” You take the cup off the bar and step back, “I appreciate it.” 

“I hope that helps,” He says, and then he glances behind you at the large round window, “actually, I’m sorry, can you wait one moment?” 

“Sure,” You watch him duck out from behind the bar, making a quick beeline for the swinging door that leads back into the kitchen. You have no idea what he could want, there’s no way you’d be recognized by him except as a stranger on the street, and your stomach knots up. 

It takes him a moment, but he darts back out, a long black umbrella in his hand, “Take this,” 

“I can’t do that,” You wave a hand, “I’m only across the street, but that’s really kind of you,” 

“If you’re only across the street then I know where to go to get it back,” He shakes his head, “just take it, it’s raining like crazy out there,” 

He presses the handle of the umbrella into your free hand, and your breath catches in your throat, his skin brushing against yours. Your eyes flick over his rings, just the same as always. A signet with a deep black stone, a hammered silver band, a clearly vintage one on his index finger that looks like an old Catholic saint token, the finer details rubbed away with age. 

“What time do you close?” You ask, accepting the umbrella. 

“Seven,” 

“I’ll bring it back after work then,” You tell him, “is that alright?”

He nods, “But if it’s still raining, just keep it. Bring it by tomorrow,” 

“Tomorrow,” You nod. 

“Mhm,” He nods, something warm in his expression, “this will have to be your new usual spot,” 

Is he flirting? You’re wholly and entirely unprepared to deal with that considering the way you moaned his name last night. Something clicks in your brain at that thought though and you nod, “Maybe it will. I’m y/n, by the way,” 

“Yeosang,” He smiles, “it’s very nice to meet you.” 

Yeosang.

“You too,” You dip your head, “and thank you again for this,” 

“Of course,” He says, “I hope this turns your morning around a little,” 

You open your mouth to say something, but there’s a voice from the cafe bar that slices cleanly between your conversation, “Yeosang-ah!” 

Yeosang glances back and then he sighs, just a little, “I have to go,” he tells you, “but I’ll see you again,” 

“See you again,” 

He’s back behind the bar before you can blink, focusing on each customer’s order. The man who called his name is grinning, and you wonder idly if he’s the friend who owns the cafe with Yeosang or just a part-timer. 

With your stomach fluttering, you push out into the rain to get to work, Yeosang’s name on a loop in your brain for the rest of the day. When you get home, his umbrella resting by the door, you delete his Snapchat from your contacts and unsubscribe from his Fansly account. 

Ongozisin becomes a daily ritual. 

The money you used to spend on his Fansly now goes straight into the cafe, first thing in the morning before work and a last lingering stop in the evening before you go home. 

On busy days you barely get to see him and sometimes you’re left just chatting with Wooyoung, his best friend and business partner. You like him too, you like the atmosphere and their kind warmth, but if you’re being honest you find yourself living for slow days. The days where you’ve timed it just right to have a little talk before the rush of the day or the closing tasks of the evening. 

Little by little, Ryu fades from your mind, and the man in front of you is just Yeosang. The guy who runs your favorite coffee shop, the guy who dresses almost otherworldly, who smiles wide but only when you say something truly funny, who sometimes gets lost in his own head while he’s making cappuccinos. 

He’s lovely. 

Sometimes you think he might be flirting, a little more suavely and charismatic than his business partner who asked if you had a crush on him since you were coming into the cafe so much. Sometimes Yeosang adds a little extra treat to your plate of food or he adds pretty latte art to your cup if you’re staying in the cafe. That might be nothing, but it certainly might be something. 

It isn’t until another day of rain, harsh pelting rain, that Yeosang appears at your table. 

“We close soon,” He says, and when he sees the brief flash of concern that you’ve overstayed your welcome on your face he shakes his head, “sorry, I meant to ask, how are you getting home tonight?” 

“The train,” You glance outside. 

His nose crinkles, “You don’t have an umbrella today either,”

“True,” You look down at your belongings, “I didn’t check the weather,” 

“If you wait a bit for us to lock up,” He says, “I’d be happy to walk you to the station,” 

“Oh,” 

“Or if you’re not busy,” He clears his throat softly, “I could walk you to this little restaurant around the corner?” 

Flirting, then. 

You smile and nod, trying to keep your eagerness tamped down to a normal amount, “Are you asking me out, Yeosang?” 

He grins, “I’ve been trying to,” 

Your stomach flips pleasantly, “I’ll wait, dinner sounds nice,” 

His shoulders sag, a little relief in his expression and he clears away your empty cup as he says, “I’ll be quick,”

You catch Wooyoung slapping his friend's shoulder as he disappears into the back room, and before you know it you’re blushing and sitting across from this man at the restaurant down the block. 

Dinner is so smooth it feels surreal. It turns out you both like the same music, and several books too, and you’ve never been on a date with a man who asked you so many questions about yourself and didn’t just talk your ear off. Dinner stretches long too, and you’re strangely grateful it’s a Friday when you finally do check the time. He has to work on Saturday at the cafe, but not until a little later in the morning, and so neither one of you really wants to call it quits. 

The after dinner walk turns meandering, and then his hand is brushing against yours, knuckles to knuckles. 

You don’t think of him as Ryu until his fingers brush down your back, lips close to your ear when he finally asks you. The way he does makes your body melt - I hope I’m not ruining things by asking, but would you like to come home with me tonight?

You agree before your mind catches up to itself, but every step of the walk to his apartment has your heart picking up speed. You had forgotten on the date how you met him, really met him, and your gut churns. 

Do you tell him? Do you lie? 

Everytime he grins at you, touches you, tucks his long hair behind his ear and nods, you can’t imagine a one night stand. You could maybe swallow the truth if that’s all this was to you, but it’s not, and so you can’t. 

On his block you feel the internal countdown ticking. 

“You can change your mind, you know,” He offers, noticing how you’ve gone quiet, and it pulls you straight out of your thoughts. 

“Oh,” Your head snaps up, “I’m sorry, I don’t want to change my mind at all, I just got a little lost in thought.” 

He nods, this time finding your hand and giving you a squeeze, his steps slowing as you approach his building, “Can I ask what about?” 

You nod, returning the soft pulse of his hand in yours before separating your skin from his. His eyes flick down to your hands, and then back up to your eyes. 

“I have a bit of a confession,” You swallow hard, “something I think I should tell you before we go upstairs,” 

“Okay,” He leans against the stone wall behind him, “is everything alright?” 

“I hope so,” You nod, “I just feel like there’s something I should say now, and if it makes you uncomfortable at all, just be honest. I’ll go home, no hard feelings,” 

“y/n,” His brows draw together in confusion, “what’s going on?” 

You take a deep breath, taking a step back to get a little breathing room, “I recognized you when I came into the cafe that first day,” 

“Recognized me?” 

“Yeah,” You clear your throat, your chest feeling tight, “for the past few months I’ve been… a subscriber,”

“A subscriber,” He repeats, and for a brief flickering second you wonder to yourself if this man just looks and sounds and feels exactly like Ryu but isn’t, but then his face blanches, “oh,” 

“I’m not anymore,” You shake your head, “and clearly you like your privacy, so I didn’t know how to just come out and say it, but if you’re actually interested in me and not just being flirty at the cafe then I just can’t lie to you… I don’t want to start something with a lie,” 

He’s quiet, and then his eyes flick down. 

It was so, so nice while it lasted. 

“I should have told you sooner,” Your stomach flips and you take another step back, “and I completely understand that you’re upset, I’ll just, I won’t say anything to anyone and it was lovely getting to know you, and I’m sorry, I’ll go,” 

His head snaps up, “Go? y/n, stop, slow down,” 

His hands smooth down your forearms as he jumps forwards, pulling you gently back towards him. Your heart is beating so loud you can practically hear it, “I’m sorry,” 

“I’m not upset,” He assures, “can we go inside to talk? I don’t want to do this in the street,” 

You nod, letting him lead you through the garden gate and up towards the house, but his words pulse on a loop in your mind. You hope he’s good at letting you down easy because this hurts. You should have known it that first day at the cafe, you should have stayed away and not played with fire. 

His house is small, but very nice and despite being sparsely decorated, you like it. You feel trapped in the entryway so unsure of what to do in this space, especially when you recognize the corner of his gray couch. 

“Can I get you a drink or something?” He interrupts your thoughts, “I have wine, probably some soju, and a bottle of truly undrinkable Japanese whisky,” 

“Undrinkable?” You blink. 

“I think it’s supposed to be very good if you like whisky,” He explains, “it was a gift,” 

“Ah,” You couldn’t feel more awkward if you tried, “wine, I guess?” 

“Okay,” He smiles, a close lipped polite smile that doesn’t quite touch his eyes, “well, make yourself comfortable, I’ll get us a drink and then we can talk,” 

“Sure,” You’re still frozen as he walks away down the hall to what you presume is the kitchen. It takes a minute to unstick yourself, but you make your way to the couch and wait. 

He returns with two glasses of red wine and then he sits in the chair opposite you, not on the stretch of couch next to you. 

“Sorry,” You take the wine, stomach flip flopping, “I know this isn’t how you thought the night would go,” 

“Mm,” He nods, taking a sip of his drink.

“I don’t know what to say,” You tell him honestly. 

He nods, looking anywhere but at you until he finally meets your eyes again, “You’re not a subscriber anymore?” 

“No,” You tell him firmly. 

“Why?” He asks, and the question hangs between you. 

“When I recognized you at the cafe and you were being so nice to me,” You explain, “it occurred to me that something might happen between us, as friends or otherwise, and it just felt wrong to know you as Yeosang and then… engage with your content that is clearly anonymous and meant to be private. I didn’t want to do that without you knowing,” 

He nods, setting his glass on the nearby coffee table, “I see,” 

“You are keeping it private, right? I feel like you’re careful to not overshare,” 

“Yes,” He nods, “no one knows.” 

“Then I really am sorry,” You set your own glass aside and lean forwards, “I’m sure you didn’t want to bring your real life as Yeosang and your online life as Ryu together, I just recognized your voice immediately that day in the cafe,”

“As Ryu?” He glances back up at you. 

“That’s what I…” You try to parse through it so it doesn’t sound like a parasocial affair, “fromryu, you know? That’s just what I filled in for your name, I guess,” 

“Ryusang,” He nods, “it’s the Hanja spelling of Yeosang,” 

“Oh,” You soften. 

“Why didn’t you mention you knew me before?” He asks, but despite his words nothing in his demeanor is upset, just curious. 

You take another large, steadying gulp of wine and nod, “I didn’t really think the cafe was an appropriate place to tell you that I’ve gotten off to your voice before,” 

He laughs sharply and looks down, “Okay, that’s fair,” 

“Right,” You murmur. 

“y/n,” He sounds hesitant and you look back up to him, “can I ask you something?” 

“Anything,” 

“Did you come out with me tonight because you wanted to go out on a date with the guy from the cafe, or because you wanted to have sex with Ryu?” The question is direct and cutting. 

“With you,” You answer quickly, and now you know exactly why he’s putting this distance between you, “you, Yeosang.” 

He’s quiet, turning your words over, you can practically see him thinking. 

“Yeo,” You murmur, fighting the urge to reach out to him, “if all I wanted was that, I wouldn’t have told you. But I really like you, Yeosang, and I’d like to see more of you and see where this could go, but I completely understand if me knowing this part of you is too much. If you don’t want to go any further with me romantically or as a friend, this can just be a nice date we both had,” 

He nods and then says, “I have one more question,” 

You wait, your stomach in knots. 

“Do you have a problem with what I do?” He asks. 

“I mean,” You shake your head, “I was a subscriber, so no,” 

“I don’t mean like that,” He clarifies his words, “I mean in terms of a romantic relationship. I like my work, both the cafe and the content, and if we start seeing each other I’m not going to suddenly stop making porn just like I wouldn’t close the cafe.” 

“I’m not asking you to,” You shift over on the couch and reach towards him, resting a hand on his forearm. 

“I’ve dated a few women,” He explains, slipping his hand into yours and twining your fingers together, “this was not something any of them were comfortable with,” 

“Oh,” You nod, but he continues. 

“A couple of them thought it might be fun,” He adds, “but when things got more serious they expected me to stop for them,” 

“I’m sorry,” You tell him quietly, “I don’t expect anything like that,” 

“You don’t now,” He points out, “and neither did they in the beginning.” 

You can see the way this has fucked with his head a little, the way he keeps his shoulders stiff and turned away from you as he explains, and you suppose you might react the same way if you were in his shoes. 

You chew the inside of your lip as you think about how best to say this to him, but finally you manage it, “Yeosang,” you get his attention, “what you do for work doesn’t change what we do on a date or in bed,” 

He turns his head a little, the only indication you have that he’s really listening. 

“I have no expectation that you’re some… sex god,” You smile a little, “though my guess is that you’re pretty good at dirty talk,” 

A small smile appears on his lips. 

“If I didn’t like what you do for work I’d go find another guy,” You continue, “and I’m sorry if the other women you dated weren’t comfortable with it, but I’m not so shy about it. I like what you do, and you’ve helped me plenty, and there’s nothing more flattering than knowing you liked me enough to even bring me upstairs,” 

“Don’t sell yourself short there,” He looks up, shaking his head, “when you said yes to dinner I thought I’d be lucky if I got to so much as touch you,” 

Your heart quickens in your chest, “You, what?” 

He turns his body towards you properly now, “y/n,” he says, “I like you, I’ve liked you since you walked into the cafe soaking wet and exhausted, I’ve been trying to figure out how to ask you out for weeks.”

“I think I’m dreaming,” You breathe, and he grins at your words. You clap a hand over your lips and groan, “Sorry, I didn't mean to say that outloud,” 

“It’s honest,” He says, “I like that about you,”

“Well,” Your hands naturally separate as you lean back onto the couch, “then believe me when I tell you that I am fine with your work. All aspects of your work,” 

His eyes flick over you, gauging how honest you’re being now, “All aspects?” 

You nod again. 

“y/n,” His voice softens, “what tier subscriber were you?” 

It clicks in your brain that you haven’t really told him everything, all the things you know about him and his work. Little audio videos here and there might be forgivable to some women, but more might be too much. 

“The highest,” You tell him, “when I say everything I mean it, the videos, the Snapchat, all of it.” 

He seems to relax at that, “And if this does go somewhere,” he gestures between you both, “if we keep seeing each other. If it becomes more than a few dates,” 

You nod. 

“You’re alright knowing that even if we were dating and going to bed together every night, I spend my free time making people come on the internet for money,” He says it so plainly that you have to blink at him. 

You turn his words over and then sigh, “There’s one thing,” 

He leans back in his chair, putting a little more distance between you both, obviously braced for your words. 

“I just have a question,” You ease him, “just something I should know, I think.” 

He nods once, his shoulders tense again. 

“Do you ever talk one on one with people?” You feel your cheeks heat, “I know you do, you have the discord, but I mean do you ever do what you do alone with someone?”

He softens, “No, no I don’t,” 

“Okay,” You nod, the tense knot in your stomach relaxing, “okay, then,”

“Would that be a boundary for you?” He asks. 

“I think so,” You tell him, “it’s different when you’re making a video to upload for anyone and talking to someone, at least to me,” 

He nods, and then he moves, shifting from his position on the chair to your side on the couch. The nerves that were knotted deeply inside you start to unfurl, his proximity feeling like a peace offering, like an acceptance of your words.

“Subscribers aren’t lovers,” He says finally, “and some people blur that line with their content, but I don’t.” 

“Then, Yeosang,” You take the opportunity to slide yourself sideways a little closer to him, “I am fine with all aspects of your work, more than fine.” 

“Will you tell me if that ever changes?” He asks. 

“Yes,” You make him this promise, “I like you too, all I want is to be honest with you,” 

He nods, his fingers flexing on his thigh as he thinks. Finally, he swallows tightly, his skin flushing a little now that you’re almost pressed together on the couch, and he asks what he’s wanted to ask all night, “y/n,” he turns towards you, “can I kiss you?” 

He’s stunning this close, enough to render you speechless, breathless. You manage a single word, “Please,” 

He’s on you in a flash, and Yeosang’s lips are warm, soft and plush and as he presses into you and winds his arms around you. Your body relaxes into his instantly, the feeling of his warmth, the scent of him, rich coffee grounds and sugar infused into his skin from his work at the cafe. 

His tongue probes your mouth, his breath hot as he sighs. Your body feels alight, hot and feverish and desperate from just a single kiss. You need him inside you yesterday. 

When he breaks the kiss, you realize you’re half straddling him. Somewhere in the heat of the moment and the muddled fog you hitched a leg over his and his hands dragged you up against him so you’re chest to chest. When your mouths break apart, you’re still merely inches from each other and panting the same little breath of air. 

“y/n,” His hands explore you slowly, moving over your skin like he’s trying to learn you, “normally I would try to keep the kink to a future date, but since you already know all of my deepest, darkest fantasies, maybe we can skip ahead?” 

“Yes,” You laugh softly, “definitely,” 

“But I am realizing something,” His hands find the curve of your ass, “I’m at a disadvantage here, you’ve seen my videos, but I don’t know anything about what you like.” 

“You,” The word bubbles up and you flush red again. 

“My voice, I’m sure you like that,” He drops it a little to emphasize the husky bedroom quality of it with a teasing smile on his face, “but what videos do you like? What were your favorites?” 

He’s about to ruin you, there’s absolutely no question. Even if he was all talk you’re sure to be coming just from his words alone, but his hands, the way he touches you, there’s no doubt he has the skills to back up everything he’s ever said in the videos too. 

“Now I’m a little embarrassed,” You admit, “an hour ago we were on a first date,” 

“An hour ago I didn’t know the woman across the table had fucked herself to the thought of me,” He counters softly, “and we can slow down if you want but judging from the wet patch on my thigh I think you want to keep going,” 

You jerk your hips immediately, angling to pull them away so you can stop embarrassing yourself all over this man after a single kiss, but his hands lock down hard over your ass and he holds your body firmly against him. 

“No, no,” He adjusts his leg so that his thigh is pressed even more firmly against your cunt, “don’t be embarrassed with me,” 

“Right,” You blush darker. 

“I’ll tell you what I want,” He offers, “would that help?” 

You nod quickly. 

One of his hands shifts to lovingly stroke up and down your back as he speaks, “I want you to enjoy this more than anything. There is nothing that gets me off harder than making a partner absolutely fall apart for me, and knowing I did that for them, and I think you already know that from my content. That’s real, that’s me.” 

You shiver a little and he leans up to kiss you, softer this time. 

“I’d like this to be good for you,” He continues, “and honestly I already want to see you again, but in case it’s only one night for you I think we should make it count.” 

The night went from nothing to everything so fast your head is spinning but you nod, surging up to kiss him with your hands pressed against his chest for balance. Your core drags along his hard thigh with your momentum forwards and you gasp a little into the kiss, your hips bucking softly on their own at the sudden pleasurable sensation. You feel something stiff and warm pressing into your belly and you feel a rush of sensation between your thighs. 

“So,” He kisses you again, leaning away so he can talk to you, “tell me what videos you liked,” 

“The um,” You clear your throat softly, “the guided ones,” 

He smiles, “Those are your favorites?” 

You nod. 

“And the roleplay?” He asks. 

“Good,” You nod, “everything you do is really good,” 

“But the guided ones get you off, hmm?” He squeezes your hips. 

You nod again, “You’re very good at what you do,” 

“Guided,” He says, almost to himself, before he drags your hips up and back along his thigh, “so you like when I talk you through it?” 

You rock your hips on your own this time, picking up on his cues that he wants you to grind on him, “Mm-hmm,” 

“Tell me more about what you like,” He keeps one hand planted firmly on your backside, but the other starts to wonder, fingers teasing the skin of your collarbones before he cups your breast through your sweater. 

  “Y-you’re so comforting,” You manage as you slowly rut your body against his, “even when you’re edging me and telling me what to do, you’re just, I don’t know,” 

“Is that right?” He teases softly, his fingers toying with the top button of your closed cardigan. 

“Mm,” You sigh, pleasure truly starting to build inside you as you rock your clit lazily against him, “and you understand it takes time for women,” 

The button opens. 

“You take your time with the build up,” You sigh, finding a better position for your hands against his firm chest while you continue to rock, “and when you talk about what you wish you could do to me if you were there,” 

Two more buttons part open and he hums softly, appreciatively, “You like knowing what I want?” 

You nod, watching as he makes short work of your other buttons. 

“Maybe I should just show you,” He slides the cardigan off your shoulders until it pools around your waist, caught on your elbows, “wouldn’t that be better than just listening?”

“Y-yes,” You sigh, your hips slowing so you can let him take the lead. 

He shakes his head, pressing his hand against your ass again to keep you moving, “That’s it,” 

You moan softly, fingers gripping his shirt, “Yeosang,” 

He chuckles at your needy whine and brushes his fingers between your breasts, stroking up your chest, down and over the wire of your bra, and lower still over the soft flesh of your belly. 

“There you go,” He smiles, “I know that feels good,” 

You nod, “So good,” 

“Jagiya,” His hands slide your bra straps down, letting the soft material of the mesh cups fall and reveal your breasts to his hungry eyes, “look how pretty you are for me,” 

You’re close. 

“Don’t stop,” He murmurs, shifting under you so that he can sit up further and press his lips to your chest, “I need you to come,” 

“Yeo,” You whine, your hips sinking into a quick rolling rhythm that feels so right. 

“I need to take my time with you,” He confesses, lips traveling from the center of your chest across the swell of your breasts, “but I don’t think I can,” 

“I-I don’t want you to,” You moan, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to stay steady, “please,” 

“I want to,” He groans, “but, fuck, y/n,” 

“Yeo,” You shudder, pleasure snapping up and down your spine, “it’s not one night, it could have never been one night for me,” 

He exhales a heavy breath against your skin, hands tightening pleasantly on your rutting hips. 

You’re startlingly close to tipping over the edge, the bubble growing closer and closer to bursting, and you squeeze your eyes shut tightly to focus on the sensation of him, “I-I need,” 

He grips you harder, “Tell me, baby,” 

“I, I,” You stammer, body stumbling towards coming. 

“Come on,” He says lowly, “tell me what you need, baby, I’m right here,” 

A tight sound bubbles out of your mouth and you figure it out in a second, your hand winding into the back of his hair to direct his head, pushing his mouth until you feel his lips ghost over your pebbled nipple. 

“Oh,” He groans, his tongue catching your nipple firmly and sending a shock down your back, “there we go, I’ve got you,” 

His tongue flicks over your nipple again, closing his lips over the hardened bud to suck sharply in exactly the way you need to take you right over the edge. 

“I’m,” You grip him harder, losing yourself entirely now as you grind against him for your release, “I’m so close,” 

“Come,” He pants, latching back onto your breast to keep lavishing the same attention, his arms banding tightly around you to hold your shuddering body close.  

Your finger tightens in his hair, he begs you once more to come, and your orgasm knocks into you sideways. You moan sharply, jerking against him as you fall apart, and you feel him start to move. 

He presses fast kisses across your chest, his voice soothing, “Oh, there we go,” he sighs as he feels you trembling, “fuck, what a good girl showing me exactly what she needs,” 

His words draw a groan from your lips, your head buzzing at his praise. 

“Perfect,” He sighs against your chest, “you have the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen,” 

You shiver, “Yeah?” 

“Mhm,” His fingers trace a circle around your nipple, and something in the way he’s touching you and the sound of his voice tells you everything. He’s about to tease you, edge you, make you come, and god willing he was about to fuck you. Yeosang flicks his thumb over your nipple and smiles, “Baby, I’m going to turn you over, if you want to slow down or stop at anytime you just tell me,” 

“I think I’ll be,” You start to say, and then he maneuvers you quickly in his strong arms, gathering you close so he can turn you over on the couch, leaving you lying flat on your back against the cushions. You squeak and the way he pushes your legs together, quickly undoing the buttons on your trousers and pulling down the zip, and he glances up at the sound to check your eyes but finds nothing but your lazy post-orgasm smile. 

As he kneels and strips your trousers off he groans, “God,” 

“W-what’s wrong?” You blink, finding his eyes. 

“Absolutely nothing,” He smooths his hands up and down your bare legs, “except I’m finding it very difficult not being inside you yet,” 

“So come inside me,” You smile. 

The corner of his mouth turns up at your words, “Already, baby? It’s only the first date,” 

You process your words and roll your eyes, “You know what I meant,” 

“I do,” He smiles wider now, “but you need to come again before I fuck you,” 

“Not that I’m complaining about you touching me,” You gasp sharply as he hooks his thumbs under the sides of your thong and yanks it away, “but I’ve been daydreaming about your cock for months, so,” 

He laughs sharply, tugging his own shirt up and off over his head as he does, “I’m flattered,” 

“Shut up,” You press your thighs together and let your head flop back onto the cushions. 

“Darling,” Yeosang says, kissing each of your thighs before he starts to slowly open your legs again, “how long has it been since you’ve been with someone?” 

“Honestly?” You grimace, “A while,” 

“And how long since you’ve had anything bigger than your fingers inside you?” He asks it so plainly, so calmly, while he widens your legs and starts to tip you open, another kiss to your inner thigh. 

You shiver in his hands, “N-not that long,” 

“Hmm,” He sounds pleased at that, “do you like using toys when you fuck yourself to my voice?” 

“Fuck,” You gasp as his finger traces the softest line up and down your slit. 

“Is that a yes?” He blows a cool stream of air across your throbbing clit and you jerk in his hands. 

“Yes,” You answer quickly. 

“What I wouldn’t give to watch that,” He says, kissing your inner thigh again before he continues, “but still, I’m probably bigger than your dildo, be patient with me,” 

“Oh, fuck,” You melt as he presses one finger inside your slick channel.

“Relax,” He soothes you, “just let go for me,” 

You don’t know how your life is this strange, how you went from listening to this man through your headphones while you touched yourself under the covers alone at home to his fingers sinking inside you. You’ll probably wake up from this dream with sticky thighs. There’s no way this is real. 

Those are the thoughts that dizzy you until he pushes two fingers flush into your heat and you moan sharply, your hand gripping down on one of the couch throw pillows. He feels pretty real. 

He groans, gently pumping his middle and ring finger just to get you used to the sensation, “Feel good?” 

“So good,” You sigh.

“How badly do you need to come, darling?” He asks, continuing the slow and steady thrust of his fingers. 

“So badly,” Your voice is whiny, needy, entirely informed by the feverish heat spreading through you. 

“Pretty girl,” He hums, “with an even prettier pussy,” 

“Oh, god,” You grip the pillows harder, and he’s barely doing anything to you but your legs are already starting to tremble. 

“Mmm,” His fingers begin to pulse more firmly and you feel his fingers curl, finding the spongy crook of your g-spot with practiced ease, “and you need my cock inside, don’t you?” 

“Ah, yes! Yes,” Pleasure blooms through your body. 

“Soon,” He promises. 

You moan again as he repositions, continuing the steady drumbeat of his fingers inside you as he reaches around with his opposite hand to separate your lower lips, the pad of his middle finger now alternating between maddening flicks and taps to your clit. 

“Ah! Yeo,” Your hips rock, “just like that,” 

“Good girl,” He murmurs, “telling me what you like,” 

A tight sensation fills your lower belly, a blossoming heat that spreads from your core up through your body in warm waves, “F-faster,” 

“Mm,” His thrusting picks up speed instantly, the angle slightly adjusting as he does, “that’s it,” 

The angle chance has his curled fingers pumping against your g-spot hard and suddenly the sensation drops low, almost painfully tight and sharp like you’re on the precipice of something. 

It occurs to you all at once what he’s trying to do, the way he’s trying to make your body sing, and despite the rolling waves of pleasure and how close you are to your second release, you don’t necessarily want the first time you squirt to be on Yeosang’s floor. 

“B-baby,” You whine, the pet name slipping off your tongue, “I’m gonna, I think, oh fuck,” 

“Fuck yes,” His fingers flatten down over your clit and he rubs fast, slickly rolling over your firm bud, “let go,” 

“I can’t,” You shake your head, sweat breaking out across your brow, “I’ve n-never, oh, fuck, Yeosang!”

“Come,” He commands softly, “that’s it, you come, right here, baby,” 

He’s not stopping, and with the way he’s working you there’s no way you could even if you tried. In a snap your body releases hard, a sensation like nothing you’ve ever felt pulsing through your slick cunt and your legs jerk, hips snapping up as clear fluid pulses out of you. The sound that leaves your lips is wanton, broken and needy, and your ears are very clearly ringing. 

“Oh, fuck,” Yeosang hums, almost to himself, rubbing fast across your soaked slit to help coax every bit of slick from your center, “oh, baby, look at you,” 

Your legs try to snap shut at the suddenly sharp overstimulation, but all he does is take that as his cue to stop directly stimulating you and instead drop the warm flat of his tongue over every inch of your glistening pussy. You gasp sharply at the feeling, rolling your head forwards so that you can look down between your legs, and you moan softly at the sight. 

He’s buried between your thighs, lazily licking stripes up your inner thighs and over your cunt, but slowly enough that his aim isn’t to draw you into another orgasm, he just wants to taste you. To feel you on his tongue and ease you through your little aftershocks. 

“God,” You breathe after a moment, “oh, my god,” 

He chuckles, kissing the top of your mound, “Was that your first time?” 

You nod, still trying to catch your breath. 

He groans a little, palming his hard cock through his trousers to readjust, “That’s an ego boost, I’m not going to lie,” 

You manage a laugh despite your dizzy, orgasm fogged brain, “Yeah?” 

“Mhm,” He strokes your thigh, “if you’re not careful I might get addicted to the way you taste when you come,” 

A shudder runs through you, “You can’t just say things like that,” 

  “It’s not a lie,” He says, “I’d spend a whole night between these thighs if you’ll let me,” 

“Mm,” You sigh, reaching down for him and brushing your fingers through his long, dark hair. 

“Now?” He cocks his head slightly to the side, “If you want my mouth, you just have to ask,” 

You shake your head, slowly starting to push yourself into a sitting position and slide your hips away from him, “Not tonight,” 

“What more can I give you tonight?” He murmurs, running his hands up and down your bare thighs, “Anything you want,” 

You cup his face, drawing him close to lock your lips on his, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and nuzzling into his nose, “Take me to bed, please, Yeosang,” 

“Let’s go,” He agrees, extricating himself from your arms so he can stand and offer you a hand up. 

You take it, but as you do you realize the wet puddle on the floor in front of the couch and you blush dark red, covering your mouth with your hand, “I’m so sorry,” 

“For what?” He blinks at you, and then follows your nervous eyes. 

“I didn’t realize,” You start to say but he interrupts you with a hard kiss. 

“Relax,” He says, “if we’re lucky you’ll make a mess of my room too,”

“I don’t know how I did it,” 

He laughs again, “I do,” he smiles, “now come on, I need to see you in my bed before I combust,” 

He tugs your hand, leading you down the hall until you’re in a large master bedroom. Your eyes flick over the details - industrial, warm wood, dark green sheets, soft ambient lighting. You’re about to comment on it, but he flips you back around to face him and captures your mouth in another hungry kiss. 

“God,” He backs you up to the edge of the bed, dropping you down and falling over you, “tell me I can have you,” 

“You have me,” You pant against his mouth, all thoughts of his lovely interior decor gone in an instant when you feel the hard shaft of his cock nestled between your thighs. 

“I swear next time we’ll go slow,” He grinds his hips down, rolling his length up and down your slit, only the thin fabric of his trousers separating you. 

“Please,” You buck against him, “I need you right now,” 

“Fuck,” His hands are hot, searching, “is that right, darling?” 

“Inside me,” Your hands scramble to find his waistband, “please,” 

He nods, lips still pressed against yours, and then he leans back just enough to undo his trousers and start to push down his pants and boxer briefs. 

Your mouth runs dry immediately. He wasn’t wrong about his size. You have fairly large dildos at home, thick and long and perfect for reaching all the spots you need it to, but Yeosang was bigger, thicker and longer than anything you’ve ever had inside you. 

“Condom?” He manages as he shucks off his pants. 

You blink, tearing your eyes away from his perfect, aching cock and nod, “We probably should?” 

“Right,” He doesn’t push you to make a different choice, he simply searches his nightstand for a moment and produces a foil packet. 

He strokes his cock twice while he tears the packet open with his teeth, before watching you beneath him as he rolls the condom smoothly down his length, adjusting it so that it fits perfectly. 

You’re trembling with anticipation, you can feel it and so can he. 

“y/n,” He murmurs, leaning over you and pressing a hand beneath your back to finally unclip your bra, “I want you to do something for me,” 

You nod, sliding the cardigan and bra off your body and pushing them over the edge of the bed. 

He grabs a firm looking pillow and folds it in half, “Lift your hips for me,” 

You lift up and he slides the pillow right under your backside to leave you propped up and open for him. 

“If it doesn’t feel good,” He murmurs as he maneuvers you into the position he wants, “or if I’m hurting you at all, just tell me,” 

You nod. 

“And I want you to tell me when you’re about to come,” He instructs, “I need to know,” 

You nod again, your stomach flipping with desire. 

He licks his lips, folding your legs open a little wider and slotting himself over you. He settles with one hand on your raised hip, the other braced on the bed by your head, his knees on the edge of the mattress between your splayed thighs. 

His cock finally, finally, nudges at your entrance and you grip down on the sheets below you. 

“Mm,” He groans, sinking just an inch or two into your tight heat, “you’re even tighter than I thought,” 

He pushes in a little more and you moan at the stretch, “Oh, god,” 

“Do I feel that good, babygirl?” He teases, pushing in a little more.

“So good,” You lift your head to watch the way his thick length splits you open. 

“I am bigger than your toys, aren’t I?” He rolls his hips this time, rocking himself deeper with every little thrust. 

“Y-yes,” You nod, your head dropping back to the mattress. 

“Can you take me, baby?” He murmurs low. 

“Fuck yes,” Your hips buck up again on their own as he opens you up, nearly fully sheathed inside you. 

“Just a little more,” He says, his hand tightening on your hip, “there we go, fuck, that’s it, you’re taking me so beautifully, baby,” 

Tears rush to your eyes, not from any kind of discomfort, but just from the overwhelming sensation of him. You’ve never been so full, never been so deliciously stretched and had these parts of you touched, and it rushes a blush to your chest and emotion through your veins. 

His fingers brush along your jaw, bringing your eyes to his, “Good tears, or should we stop?” 

“If you stop I’ll actually cry,” You laugh, blinking away the hazy sheen in your eyes, “you feel so fucking good,” 

“Oh,” He sighs, thrusting gently in and out of you, “what a good, good girl, you are,” 

“Jesus,” You shiver beneath him. 

“Yeah?” He starts to move now, just a bit more, rocking his cock at a steady pace in and out of your wet core, “You like when I tell you how good you are for me?” 

“Yes,” You moan, a shock of hot pleasure spiking up from your core, “please,” 

“Such a good girl letting me fuck her perfect pussy on the first date,” His voice has dropped low again, husky and direct, and you babble out a sound of pleasure as he talks, “so warm and wet,” 

“Fuck, fuck,” Your eyes roll. 

He collapses over you a little more, his desperate lips searching for yours and the angle deepens, pushing his cock deeper and deeper inside you with every downward thrust of his hips. 

You grip his shoulders, nails digging into his warm skin, “Baby,” you pant, “your cock, oh god,” 

He hums against your cheek, head falling slack as his lips find your throat, sucking your pulse points and no doubt searing his mark into your tender skin. He pumps his hips harder and you moan under him, cursing again and scrambling to hold him closer. 

“Such a dirty mouth,” He nips at your neck, “are you always like this, or is my cock that special?” 

All you can manage is a taught moan in response, his cockhead now continuously connecting with your sweet spot over and over and rendering you unable to string a coherent thought together. 

He groans at the way your cunt flutters and spasms and he kisses you hard, fingers tangling in your hair, “One of these days I’ll feel you for real,” he pants, “nothing between my cock and your sweet cunt,” 

Your back arches, your mind spinning at the thought, “Yeo,” you moan. 

“Fuck,” He chokes, “the way you’re squeezing me,” 

You make a tight sound, something between a pleasured whine and a sob, and his hips stutter and stop, pressing his cock in as deep as possible as he grips down on whatever parts of you he can, breathing hot and heavy against your skin. 

You can’t really move well in this position, but your hips rock in tiny back and forth motions to try and keep the sensation rolling through you. He’s panting into your shoulder, clearly trying to keep himself from coming too soon, and your mind commits to an idea before you have a second to double check yourself. 

“Yeo,” You tap his arm, “baby I need to move,” 

He pushes off you, his cock sliding out of your soaked core and you leg your legs straighten out, “What’s wrong,” 

The words are barely off his tongue before you’re sitting up, grabbing his hand and drawing him back to the bed, pushing him onto his back with a guiding hand to his shoulder. He lets you lead, watching you as you put him where you want him this time, and he smiles, eyes flicking over you appreciatively. 

“I need you,” Is all the explanation you can give, and maybe with a stranger this is foolish, borderline stupid, but you know him. He’s not a stranger really, not to you. 

With a feverish pulse of need inside you, you shift to straddle his hips, and with quick, sure hands you roll the condom up from the base of his cock and toss it to the side. 

“y/n,” He manages, but you’re lifting yourself over him now and his hands fly up to brace your waist, “are you sure?” 

“So sure,” You connect his cockhead with your slick hole and drop your hips down fast, taking the whole hard length of him inside you in one smooth motion. 

It’s his turn to moan, his head dropping back at the sensation of your wet walls and he grips at you, his hips stuttering beneath you. 

“God,” He bucks up into you, “you’re perfect,” 

“So are you,” You rock against him, finding the perfect place for your hands on his chest, “you’re so deep,” 

He moans again, and when you start to bounce up and down he curses tightly. 

“J-just don’t come inside me,” You keep bouncing, a steady fluid motion in your hips that you can tell is driving him crazy, but you have to keep your head at least a little. 

“F-fuck,” He groans, his jaw tightening as his eyes flick down to the place your bodies are joined together, “you’re making that kind of difficult,”

“I just wanted to feel you,” Your shaking arms buckle a little and you find yourself flush against his chest while you work his cock. 

“Me too,” His hands find your ass again and he starts to direct the pace, “God, I could fuck you forever,” 

A moan drops from your mouth, your hands tightening on his chest. 

“Don’t stop,” He urges you, and you realize your hips slowed at his words, “you feel so good riding me like that,” 

Your thighs are burning already, but you hardly care, every fast shift up and down leaves you closer and closer, “Love you cock,” 

“Mm, yeah? Say that again,” 

“I,” You curse as a spike of pleasure rolls through you, “fuck, I love your cock,” 

“Good girl,” He grips you tight, his hips jutting up to meet you now. 

Your pace falters slightly, “Please, please,” 

“I’ve got you,” He adjusts just enough to hold you steady as he fucks up into your tight heat, “I’ve got you,” 

You moan, dropping your head into his chest and shuddering against him, “Baby, oh fuck,” 

“A-are you close, jagi?” He pants, fingers digging into your hips so hard you know you’ll have bruises. 

“Don’t stop,” You beg, “please, god, don’t stop,” 

He groans, keeping the pace of his thrusts and using his hands on your ass to maneuver you to meet his hips. 

“Shit,” You shudder in his arms, your orgasm fast approaching, “I’m coming,” 

“Come here,” He shifts you fast, rolling you up and off him and manhandling you up to your feet. 

You make a surprised noise at the lack of him inside you when you were getting so close, but you don’t have to worry for very long. Before you can open your mouth he has you standing, facing away from him, and bent over ninety degrees to brace your hands on the bed. 

He thrusts back inside you sharply, slamming his hips into yours and leaving you moaning and curling in on yourself, your legs starting to tremble. 

“Come on my cock, pretty girl,” He palms your ass before planting his hands on your hips and using the leverage to pull you back into each of his thrusts, “you’re so close,” 

Your eyes slam shut, fisting the sheets as you hang on, every sharp push of his cock driving deeper and deeper. You’re going to have bruises, you’re going to be sore, but none of it matters when he’s making you feel this good. 

You sob out a moan, collapsing forward into the bedding but he holds you up, “I can’t,” 

“Yes, you can,” He pants, his sweat slick skin connecting again and again with yours. 

“Fuck,” You groan, “I’m almost, I’m so,” 

“Touch your yourself,” He directs, interrupting your pleasured ramblings, “rub your clit for me, baby,” 

You slide a hand between your legs, locating your slick bud with ease and rolling your fingers over it quickly. 

“Fuck, there you are,” He groans, “that’s right, baby, come on my cock,” 

The same new sensation drops in your gut, your legs start to shake and you’re fairly sure that without his sure hands you’d be crumbling. 

“That’s it,” He coaxes you up, never once slowing the sharp snaps of his hips, “there you go, that’s my good girl,” 

Something unravels in your gut and you come with a shout, folding in on yourself as your legs quake and your mind whites out. Yeosang wraps his arms around you, curling over your back to keep you steady, and his cock slips free so he can stimulate you through your orgasm with his fingers, more liquid pulsing out of you as he fucks you over the edge. 

You’re a quivering mess, and he lets you drop into the sheets, pushing you onto your back so he can stand over you, one hand fisting his slick cock. 

“I’m coming,” He groans, “w-where?” 

Your hands cup your breasts automatically, and you arch up to offer yourself to him, “On me, baby, come all over me,” 

Yeosang groans sharply, his hips thrusting into his tight grip as ropes of silvery white cum paint your skin, covering your belly and breasts and dripping down your chest. He’s panting, his skin flushed pink and sweat covering every inch of his toned chest. 

It takes you both a moment to recover, both trembling in the same position as you try to regain your breath, but after a few moments he smiles a hazy, satisfied smile and finds your eyes, “You’re so beautiful,” 

Suddenly you feel a bit shy, even despite everything you’ve just done together. 

“So beautiful,” He sighs again, pushing his hair back out of his face, and then he drops to his knees. 

He hushes your soft protests and this time he tastes you slowly, but with intention. After such rough, intense sex, he follows it with the softest, slowest orgasm you’ve ever had. With slow sucks and gentle licks he brings you through a languid rolling wave that softens your limbs and leaves you sleepy and pliant in the sheets.  

You drift, falling into sleep too easily for a first date in a sort of stranger’s apartment. 

You wake a little later to a warm sensation on your skin, and you blink your eyes open to see Yeosang sitting next you, freshly showered and wearing black sweatpants and a familiar blank tank top. He draws the wet washcloth over your skin and then stops and smiles when he sees your eyes open. 

“Hey,” He murmurs. 

“Hi,” You reply softly, “I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” 

He shakes his head, “Don’t be sorry,” 

“I think you scrambled my brain a little,” You laugh, covering your face with your hands. 

“Hopefully in a good way,” He nudges you. 

“Beyond good,” You look up at him, “are you kidding?” 

He smiles a little wider, “Good,” he says, “I drew you a bath,” 

“Oh,” Your eyebrows raise. 

“I thought you might be sore,” He explains, “I know I was a little rough, I hope you’re not feeling it too much,” 

You shake your head, “Just a little, but in a good way,” 

He nods, “Does the bath sound nice, or would you prefer a shower?” 

“Bath is perfect,” You can see that he’s suddenly a little nervous, back to the same man from your date, no trace of Ryu’s husky tones. 

“Here,” He offers you his hands to help you up, and guides you towards the connected bathroom suite. It’s large, crisp and clean, and in the corner stands a large spa-like tub filled high with warm water. 

“Thank you,” You murmur as he helps you slip into the cocoon of water, the subtle scent of lavender wafting up from the steam. 

“Mhm,” He nods, pulling a bamboo stool from the side of the sink and setting it down so he can sit at the edge of the tub and be at eye level with you. 

“This is nice,” You murmur, still finding yourself a little shy in the post-orgasm clarity of it all. 

He’s quiet for a moment, his fingertips dragging over the surface of the water and then he bites his lip. 

Your stomach sinks for a moment, nerves coming back tenfold at the idea that maybe he’d prefer you to go after this, maybe this is all you’d ever have. Maybe he reconsidered what you know about his online persona and maybe he wasn’t willing to take the leap. 

“y/n,” He sighs, “this might be forward,” 

You look up from the rippling water. 

“But what do you think about staying the night? We could order some dessert, maybe keep getting to know each other a little?” He asks. 

You can’t fight the smile that blooms over your face, “I thought you might have changed your mind,” 

“No,” He reaches into the water to find your hand, twining your fingers together, “not at all.” 

“Yeah?” You squeeze his hand. 

“I’d be crazy to let this be a one-time thing,” He lifts your hand from the bath and presses a kiss to the back, “I hope you feel the same.” 

“I really do,” You twist to the side, leaning over to find his mouth and lock your lips together. 

Yeosang cups your cheek, deepening the kiss tenderly, his tongue sweeping against yours, “What are you doing tomorrow night, then?” 

“Tomorrow?” You lean back a little. 

“Let me take you out again,” He kisses you again, softly this time, “I’m probably supposed to wait a few days, Wooyoung would tell me I seem too eager, but,” 

“Who cares about that?” You grin, leaning out of the bath far enough to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him, “It’s a date,” 

“And Sunday?” His hands slide down your back. 

You nuzzle his nose with yours, “I have a date,” 

“Oh,” He says, deflating instantly. 

“You might know him,” You tease, “he owns this lovely little cafe,” 

He laughs, his forehead leaning on yours, “You’re mean,” 

“You like me,” You peck his lips. 

“I do,” He nods, “I really, really do,” 

[haikyuuhoo]

tired eyes

pairing: gojo x reader

wc: 790

warnings: light angst, minor manga spoilers

a/n: tagging @shotorus in this bc sel your sleepy gojo thoughts made me unable to stop thinking about this idea I've wanted to write. I know this is so different to the vibes of what you were talking about but I figured you deserved the tag since this lil drabble finally made its way out of my head bc of you <3 (pls don't feel like you need to read this I'm nervy just tagging you lol)

Gojo’s keys clang loudly against the bowl on the table in the entryway, and he has half a mind to cringe at the noise, seeing as it’s so late and you’re probably asleep by now. He unzips his jacket as he drags his feet in the direction of the bedroom, heaving out a sigh and finally letting his shoulders relax a little, letting some of the tension he’s been harboring for days leave his body. He's so tired that he feels like he could fall asleep in his clothes without even crawling beneath the duvet, though he knows he should at least shower first. But that's all forgotten when he steps into the warm glow spilling into the hallway from the light on your nightstand, and he hesitates for a moment when he notices that you're not asleep—in fact, you're very much awake, like you've been waiting for him.

Your gaze darts up when you see the figure in the doorway, a smile immediately lighting up your face. “You’re home,” you say as you set aside the book you were reading and pull your headphones off.

Gojo raises an eyebrow, making his way to the edge of the bed where you rise onto your knees to meet him. “You’re still up?”

And you nod, shrugging one shoulder slightly as you bring your hands up to cup his face. “Of course. Can’t really sleep well when I’m waiting for you to come back from a mission, ya know?” You say it so casually, but it makes him frown knowing you’re referring to the nineteen agonizing days he was gone from you. You lean in to close the distance between you two, pressing your lips to his in a hungry kiss that has him grasping your waist and pulling you flush against him.

“Well, as much as I wish you wouldn’t stay up just for me, I’m glad you did,” he murmurs into your mouth.

“Mmm,” is all you hum in response, pushing your fingertips underneath his blindfold. And then you kiss his nose, then his forehead, and then briefly his lips again.

And those lips fall into probably the prettiest pout you’ve ever seen. “You gonna take it off?” he asks, his voice low, and normally the tone would have you moving quickly to take everything off of him, but not tonight. Tonight, his voice is low with exhaustion, and you'd noticed the way it seemed to seep into his bones the moment he entered the room.

“No,” you say softly, and he nearly whines, “you’re tired. Your eyes—” You gently let your fingertips smooth across his eyelids over the blindfold “—I’m sure they need the rest.”

Gojo had a penchant for coming home with migraines after missions, all that time with his blindfold off to help him fight draining him and making his eyes even more sensitive than normal, and you’re sure tonight is no different.

“But I want to see you.”

The corner of your mouth tilts up. “I may not know exactly how your technique works, Satoru, but I know you can see me.”

And this time he does whine, squeezing your waist and pressing his forehead against yours. “You know it’s not the same. I wanna see you.”

You hum, stringing him along like you’re thinking about it and toying with the edge of the black fabric. “Okay,” you finally say, “just a peek, yeah?” Before he even has a chance to respond you're lifting it off and dropping it to the side. His hair falls around his face, messier than it normally is, and you gently brush it back.

Gojo blinks a couple of times to adjust his eyes to the light, and your chest tightens at the sleepy smile he gives you, at the way his eyes seem dimmer than usual. “Hi,” he whispers.

And you’re suddenly overcome with a wave of emotion that has you blinking back tears. “Hi.” You cup his face again, thumbs stroking over his cheekbones. “I missed you.”

He flashes you a grin. “Aww, no need to miss me too much, you know I can’t stay away from you.”

And you both know it’s his attempt to lighten the mood, to pretend that someday there's going to be a time when you’re not waiting up for him, when you can be at peace despite knowing his responsibilities will always take him away for days at a time, when he's not carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders—when there's not a very real possibility that someday he may not come home to you.

So you decide that today you two will pretend, and you let your tears fall, giving him a wobbly smile. “I know.”

reblogs & comments always appreciated <3

[ashherahh]

your first time with your future spouse +18

Note: Please take it if it resonates, leave it if it doesn't. Meditate before making your decision. It's completely okay if you don't resonate with this reading. The collective is huge and I'm sure you'll receive the messages you need in due time.

pile 1

You're seen as quite meek by most people and even by your future spouse when you first meet them. Eventually they learn what a little freak you are! You're so prim and proper and polite in front of others but when you're alone you're a bit depraved. You're what people would call a mental slut.

The energy I'm picking up is that you weren't really sexually compatible with previous partners and so you just thought that you're not someone who feels that intense sexual attraction people always seem to be talking about. That doesn't stop all the thoughts you have.

There's a strong energy of abstinence but there's definitely an underlying energy of someone that is like a caged werewolf under a full moon.

To explain what I'm seeing, it's as though you do get sexually aroused but no one seems to tick your boxes in a sense so you haven't gone all the way in a hot minute. It's like mentally, you're really pumped up and then you're in front of someone and it's like being thrown with a bucket of ice water. I am seeing a problem with climaxing and your mind kind of wanders a bit.

When you first do the deed with your future spouse, you give disclosures and you do make them aware of how you feel about sex and your experiences. You're very open with them, mainly because you don't want to get your hopes up and you don't want them to be disappointed.

Your future spouse is very patient with you and they're very understanding. I'm seeing you're very comfortable with them, that's why the two of you are able to discuss intimacy so openly.

Lemme tell you something, they are so confident in themselves and they're going to teach you a thing or two. Wink wink, nudge nudge.

They keep this to themselves because they don't want you to overthink your first time together and they want to keep you as present in the act as they possibly can.

You ever crave something but you can't seem to figure out what it is? Then when you do stumble across it, it's like puzzle pieces falling in place. That's what your first time with them is like.

I'm seeing that they hold you quite close to them through the entire act. They'll keep your back to their front or they'll put you in positions where you feel like they're all over you.

They talk you through it, not really dirty talk but more like they give you a lot of praises. I'm seeing that they touch your belly a lot, that's a very sensitive spot for you that you didn't even know about.

Your future spouse has stamina and I do see it takes a while for you to orgasm the first time but their focus is completely on you. They really get off on seeing you thoroughly pleasured. You two leave each other feeling so satisfied, and it only gets better from there.

pile 2

You love your future spouse's voice and their hands. It's as though your entire body is voice activated around them. That's the first thing you notice about them. I'm seeing that they have an accent different from yours as well.

They have a very commanding energy. Someone who is very solid and stable and career oriented. Big boss vibes.

They use that same energy in the bedroom...

Hehehe oh they like to stand behind you and whisper in your ear, even if it's normal things, they like to tease you and see your reaction to them.

They have beautiful hands and because they've picked up on how much you like that part of them, they're constantly putting them on display so to speak. They also like to flex around you too. The physical attraction between the two of you is so carnal and thick, you could cut through it with a knife.

You two know each other, I am seeing a work setting. You're in an environment with them whereby if you weren't, you wouldn't know one another or be in the same circles because of how different you are. I am seeing that you guys are not dating when you have sex for the first time but it does become an exclusive relationship afterwards.

You mask your attraction to them behind annoyance, but because they're quite attractive and very charismatic, they can see it and they do things on purpose to get a rise out of you. Your discussions become quite heated with them, they like to debate with you.

Your future spouse is a brat tamer and you're a brat. Even if you're not into the BDSM lifestyle, they're definitely not vanilla, that's the kind of dynamic you have. So, your first time with them is very... unplanned. It's sudden and kind of just happens but it's so explosive. I see this happening in their space so to speak.

They spent so long teasing you and riling you up, that they have been doing it to themselves in the process as well.

It's as though your spouse was waiting so long for this and they have no control at all. They're like someone starved and they want to do everything with you. Meanwhile you're just head empty because did you want this all along? Ohmygoodness, you did!

Goodness, your first time is more like a quickie because you two just can't control yourselves around each other!

You both come to terms with your true feelings for each other during the act. It's like a revelation. You can't get enough of one another.

pile 3

Tantric sex. Your first time with your future spouse is so spiritual, it's proper lovemaking. Not rushed, no anxiety, no overthinking. This is like a joining of souls.

I'm seeing that you and you future spouse take the act of sex very, very seriously. You two are very involved in spirituality so you both don't want any unwanted soul ties or things like that. I am seeing you two waiting a looooong time before having sex. I'm seeing strongly that many of you will wait until you're married, I'm not seeing a conventional marriage ceremony either.

Because of the lifestyle you practice, you want to make sure that you're in this forever. Your future spouse already feels that they'll spend the rest of their earthly life with you and so they're not rushed to have you the first time. You on the other hand... you're chomping at the bit to have them and they know it but they always redirect your energy. Your libido seems a lot higher than theirs on the surface, but it's only because they've been practicing on controlling theirs a lot longer than you have.

I see that they were born into this lifestyle and these spiritual practices, and you only started later in life.

They try and get you to do other activities to get your mind off of sex but sometimes you'll just be looking at them and they'll catch you and be like, "Nah uh, not my goodies, not yet."

It's really not that they don't want you but they want things to be in place before they have you like that so to speak. Sometimes, even though you understand where they're coming from, you still feel at times that they're not into you.

All of that goes out of the window your first time with them!

They really set the mood with candles and music. They take their time preparing you as well. They'll give you a full body massage. They love to use their mouth on you... So, foreplay will have them with their head between your legs for a while.

I'm seeing that their eyes are on you constantly, even in the throws of pleasure they'll try to keep looking into your eyes. They'll be watching your reactions and they love to hear you.

Phew! It's hot in here!

You were not expecting your future spouse to be so intense and so passionate. Their sexual energy is not really "aggressive", it's more sensual. They want all of your senses to be tantalised. All of those times they have you do something else will be so worth it.

[nervoussagittarius]

which triplet is most likely to ft. matts girlfriend y/n!

matt sturniolo x reader

summary: matt invites his girlfriend to a car video with nostalgic vibes

warnings: none :)

you were sitting in the passenger seat of the minivan, you're normal spot when you were driving with the triplets. this time though, a camera sat in front of you on the dash of their car.

being home with the boys in boston was still something you were getting used to. your boyfriend matt had spent a big part of the day taking you around all the iconic spots in the city. the boys had asked you earlier in the if you wanted to participate in a video. you, of course, said yes.

your relationship was no secret to the world. you guys have been together for a couple years, and you had been featured in many og videos.

"gotta turn the world into a dance floor" chris sang, as matt got into the car. he pointed at you to finish the lyric

with a roll of your eyes, "determinate d-determinate" you sang back.

matt and nick looked at the both of you. one in anticipation of you guys to keep singing, and the other in anticipation of starting the video.

nick cut all of you off quickly to intro the video. "hey guys! welcome back to the fridays video"

"today we have a very special guest, drumroll please, my girlfriend y/n" matt said as he looked at you with a stupid smile on his face.

"hi guys! im back" you replied looking at the camera.

chris started from the backseat, "if you're new here, y/n has been in a bunch of our old videos, and were bringing her back to see her take on 'who's most likely to'"

"we've done this before but we figured y/n could give you guys an outside perspective” matt said as he looked at the camera.

“i’m giving y’all the dirt. we’re getting deep… i- okay” the boys laughed at you while nick pulled up the first question.

“okay, which triplet is most likely to get mad at another for chewing to loud?” nick asked as you immediately looked between the camera and matt.

“we already know the answer because the viewers have seen this happen multiple times”

“yeah, i have to say it’s matt. i’m so sorry for coming at you first honey” you said in between giggles as matt rolled his eyes.

“i disagree. i don’t think i’m most likely to do that”

“matt! we’ve witnessed it bro. you can’t say it’s not you when it is. either way it’s a who’s most likely to question not who’s actually doing it! but you’re actually doing it. good god” nick exclaimed.

the car was packed with laughter as nick went in his tangent. you all calmed down as nick asked the next question.

“who’s most likely to not be able to sleep alone”

“all of you.”

“what!?” “no way!” “that’s not even true”

“no it’s so true” you responded to there complaints. “let me explain. nick is probably the least likely. he’s okay sleeping alone i just feel like people come to him the most to sleep with him so he’s used to sleeping with other people.”

“that’s very true. people are always in my bed” nick said giving the camera a little wink.

“matt and chris need to have someone with them at all times. chris can’t sleep in the same place for more then a night. he’s always sleeping everywhere but his own bed. and matt texts me at least once a week that i need to come over and sleep in his bed with him because he can’t fall asleep.”

“let me just clarify,” matt started, “i can sleep alone. i would rather have my girlfriend with me though. and that’s okay. that’s fine”

“yeah and i just don’t like being alone.” chris defended.

a few more questions were answered before you guys decided to call it quits for the night.

matt grabbed the camera off the dash pointing it at you. you smiled and put up a peace sign.

“look at how cute she is” matt said as he put his hand on your cheek.

“alright matt, end the video”

matt screamed in the camera quickly ending the video.

comments:

i can’t get over how beautiful matt and y/n are together

i need someone to look at me the way matt looks at y/n

i love nostalgic boston videos

petition to bring y/n back on the channel more.

an: this kinda sucks because half of it was deleted when i tried to save it to my drafts and i don’t really like it but y’all wanted a matt fic. first part of the matt series will hopefully be up soon🤍

[aemondsbabe]

Taunt

obviously, i feel very normal and chill about ewan's new performance in saltburn. anyways lmao this is my version of michael gavey from the vibes i got from him in the 5 seconds he's in the trailer! i have no idea if this is accurate to how he is truly portrayed in the movie! if the movie comes out and i'm totally wrong, then i don't care bc i got to have fun writing about a cheeky lil oxford student!!

summary: you're nearly failing statistics and the student your professor asks to tutor you seems to gain a sick satisfaction from seeing you squirm; he hates you...or so think.

pairing: michael gavey x reader

warnings: mature, 18+ (minors, do not enter!!!) no use of Y/N, afab reader, profanity, smut, piv smut, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), dom/sub, brief daddy kink (literally one mention), dirty talk, dumbification, humiliation (only a bit), size kink if you squint, mild angst but happy ending, choking i guess (barely), public sex (they're alone but like it's still public lmao), brief discussions of math -- please let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 10.5k (dear lord)

a/n: baby's first fic omg! if you enjoy this one and want to see more from me, please feel free to send in requests! (GoT, HoTD, Stranger Things, Marvel, etc!)

PRAISE | Taunt Part 2

MAKING AMENDS | Bonus

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!🌟

“Right, so,” Professor Davies began, pulling a thick textbook off the shelf next to his desk, “Since we’ve only just returned from Easter holiday, I thought I’d go easy on you today.” 

A few quiet groans could be heard around the room, a couple students turning to look at one another with grimaces; in the few weeks you’ve been in Professor Davies’s class, he’s never once gone easy on you. With a small sigh, you shuffle through your spiral notebook until you come to a blank page. 

“D’you think you’ll go to the party this weekend?” Louise whispers, leaning over closer to you as she twirls a pen around in her fingers, “I heard this one is supposed to be fucking insane.”

“Like any of Felix’s parties aren’t insane?” You whisper back, smirking as you doodle a small flower on the corner of a page of paper, “Of course I’ll be there,” you murmur, watching as Professor Davies writes an intricate formula on the chalkboard, “I could really use a break, anyway…I’ve been so stressed recently.”

“Christ…” A boy, in the row of desks in front of you scoffs, just barely shaking his head as he copies down the formula, his handwriting sharp and choppy. You feel blood rush to your cheeks as you narrow your eyes, staring intently at his sandy hair. You didn’t really know him, this being your only class with him, but you’d seen him around campus, regularly passing by him in the halls. Oxford may be a large university, but when you’re on campus everyday, you begin recognizing familiar faces. 

He didn’t run in the same crowds as you at all, and you got the distinct impression that he looked down on you and the rest of your friends, but you knew his name – Michael and that he was incredibly smart, his hand promptly shooting into the air anytime Professor Davies asked a question. In the few weeks you’d been in the same statistics class, you had yet to see him get a question wrong, watching as he grinned, cocky, everytime he was praised for correctly solving even the most intricate of formulas. 

You, on the other hand, couldn’t be more the opposite, always shying away and praying not to hear Professor Davies call your name in his deep, baritone voice every time his eyes scanned the crowd, looking for a volunteer, or victim, more like. While Michael clearly enjoyed the class, practically glowing with an arrogant confidence as soon as he walked into the wood paneled lecture hall, you were simply here to check it off as a requirement of your major, hoping to survive the class with a C and nothing more. 

It was annoying, you wouldn’t deny that, the way that smug smirk seemed to be permanently etched onto his face, how that stupid taunting glimmer was an ever-present fixture of his blue eyes — blue eyes which, seemingly, always managed to find their way to you, one way or another. 

His attention was intimidating at first, his cold stare leaving you unsure of what exactly his intention was. Was he trying to challenge you? Trying to determine if he knew you from somewhere else? A small part of you, a naive part, hoped that his staring was meant to be affectionate; he was cute, you’d admit it! Always showing up to class in cozy knit sweaters, his wavy hair still ruffled and untidy as if he’d just gotten out of bed, gold rimmed glasses perched atop a strong nose.

You quickly tear your gaze away from the back of Michael’s head, biting your bottom lip as you begin copying down the problem on the chalkboard, pausing briefly when you see, from the corner of your eye, his head turn as he glances at you over his shoulder. You felt your cheeks flush despite yourself, that small, sanguine voice in the back of your head cheering. 

“Now, then,” Professor Davies booms, dropping the textbook down on his desk with a cacophonous thud before sweeping his eyes across the classroom, “A bit of review before we really dive in…” He continues, pacing around the front of the room as he explains the various parts and pieces of the equation on the board. 

“What do you think you’ll wear?” Louise asks, leaning over once more to whisper in your ear, you can smell her signature floral perfume on her hair, “I was thinking I’d do that new blue-ish dress I got, you know, the strappy one?”

“Might still be too cold for strappy,” you whisper back, half listening to the professor drone on as you continue doodling on your paper, pausing every few minutes to jot down a few haphazard notes, “I was just thinking I’d do a jumper, probably a skirt and tights–”

Suddenly, you hear Professor Davies call your name, your cheeks practically stinging as blood rushes to your face. Sitting up straighter, you finally find the courage to meet his stern gaze, “Since you seem all too eager to share your thoughts,” He continues slowly stalking towards you across wooden floorboards that softly creak beneath his feet, “Would you care to enlighten us with the solution to the quadratic equation on the board?” He comes to a stop, hands clasped behind his back as he patiently waits for you to answer, a small, knowing smile poised on his lips. 

“I– uhm, well,” you stutter, glancing back and forth between your barely there notes and the chalkboard, throat growing tighter as you feel everyone's eyes on you, “Don’t you need to solve for G first?”

“And how would you go about doing that?”

“Well, you would…” You trail off, desperately trying to remember the lessons you’d had before Easter holiday, absentmindedly picking at your cuticle as you pray to be anywhere but here or for a hole to open in the floor and swallow you whole, “I…I don’t recall, professor. I’m sorry.” You finally say, not being able to meet his gaze as you stare intently at your lap, desperately willing yourself not to cry, even as you feel your eyes stinging. 

“Perhaps, in the future, it would be of benefit to socialize with your friends outside of my classroom.” Professor Davies admonishes, giving a sharp glare to Louise as well, who manages an apologetic smile. “Yes, Professor.” You whisper, keeping your eyes downturned. 

Finally, you hear the floorboards softly creaking once more as Professor Davies makes his way back up to the podium at the front of the room and once again resumes his lecture. You can’t help but pause for a second when you hear a small snicker from the tall boy in front of you, sensing as he peers at you over his shoulder once again. 

“Would anyone else like to take a crack at the problem on the board?” Professor Davies asks, leaning against the old, worn podium at the front of the room. Like clockwork, Michael’s hand shoots into the air. Somehow, that makes you blush even harder.

Eventually, Professor Davies finishes his lecture and retrieves his dark leather briefcase from under the desk, pulling a thick stack of papers out and sitting them on the podium, leaning over it with a sigh, “I have your tests graded. Most of you did very well, you should be pleased with yourselves. Some of you, however,” He says pointedly, “Could benefit greatly from a closer study of the material.”

Slowly, he walks around the room passing back tests, throwing out a comment here and there as he did so. You already know you hadn't done well on that particular test and dread getting it back and confirming your suspicions, so you keep yourself busy, choosing to meticulously pack up your things instead. 

“Mr. Gavey,” he said a few feet away from you, papers rustling as he slid the test across the wooden surface of the long bench desks, “Once more, an outstanding job! Top of the class, keep it up.” 

“Thank you, Professor,” you glance up, watching as he takes the paper with a humble nod, that same, oh-so pleased smile gracing his angular face. He must sense you looking at him and quickly shifts his gaze in your direction, eyes glimmering with self-satisfaction behind his gold-rimmed glasses as his smile quickly turns into a smirk. Finally, you tear your gaze away from his with a small, bewildered huff. Why did he seem to get so much satisfaction from besting you, of all people? It’s not like you were exactly an academic threat. 

“Ms. Bickerstaff,” Professor Davies says, finally appearing next to the table you and Louise sat at, “Not bad, a bit more effort next time and you’re sure to be on track,” he remarks, sliding her paper across the desk. Louise thanks him with a small smile as she flips through her test, eyes scanning over his marks. 

Finally, Professor Davies stands before you once again, your paper the very last in his hands. You hear him mutter your last name before he slides the paper across the desk to you, and you can’t help but deflate as you see your grade; you knew it would be bad, but that? How on Earth were you going to recover your average? What if you had to retake the whole course? What if you failed out of Oxford entirely? Your parents had sacrificed so much to help you get here, spending years and untold amounts of money on private tutors and extracurricular materials, all to help you have an impressive application! Not to mention the money just for the course fees! Unlike most of your friends, you didn’t come from piles and piles of money and status – your family was alright, sure, but you were definitely several tax brackets below them. 

As your thoughts spiraled, you felt Louise elbow you in the side at the same time you heard Professor Davies address you again. Shaking your head to clear your scattered thoughts, you clear your throat and finally turn to look up at him, “Sorry, yes, Professor?” 

“As I was saying,” Professor Davies continues, tapping the papers in front of you, “I would like to discuss your performance with you today, after class. Please meet me at the front of the room before you go.”

“Yes, sir.” you mumble dejectedly, nodding as you quickly flip the test over, embarrassed at the thought of anyone else seeing your grade. 

“I’ll see you later, babes,” Louise says a few minutes later as everyone is clearing out of the room, “Good luck!” She whispers, giving you a reassuring pat on the shoulder before making her way to the door.

“Thanks!” you smile weakly, swallowing the lump in your throat before picking up your things and heading to the front of the room. The afternoon sun is already getting lower in the sky, beams of light shining into the room, bathing rectangular swaths of the floor in bright, golden light and highlighting motes of dust as they scatter in the air. Only a few students are left in the classroom, some of them finishing up notes while others type out quick texts. As you walk by his desk, you notice Michael scribbling down notes in his planner. 

You shuffle your feet nervously as you stand in front of the sizable oak desk that your professor sits at, watching as he adds a sticky note to the top of another stack of papers, “You wanted to see me, Professor?”

“Ah, yes!” He says, looking up at you over his glasses. He quickly caps his pen and stands, walking around the desk to stand in front of you, “I know this class has been quite the challenge,” he begins, leaning against the desk, “But, I think I’ve found a solution for you.” 

“You have?” You ask, tilting your head in confusion.

“I think you could benefit greatly from a tutor, perhaps a peer who could explain the material to you in a different way,” he continues, “And I have just the student in mind.” Instantly, you feel a pit beginning to form in your stomach, biting your bottom lip as you watch Professor Davies motion for someone behind you to come up to the desk, “Mr. Gavey, if you could join us up here, please.”

You freeze when you feel him saunter up beside you, eyeing him out of the corner of your eye. He was so much taller than you, your head barely grazing his shoulder, as he came to a stop next to you, standing casually with his backpack slung over one shoulder. 

Professor Davies once again turns his attention to you, motioning to Michael as he speaks, “Mr. Gavey here is one of my most capable students,” you can’t help but notice him stand up straighter at the comment, growing somehow even taller, “I’ve taken the liberty of asking him if he would be so kind as to assist you with some of the course work and he agreed.” You freeze a little at that, stunned that he would be so quick to help you when he seems to relish any opportunity to make you squirm. “I’ve given it some thought,” the professor continues, fixing you with a stern gaze, “And I’m willing to let you make corrections to your test and resubmit it for half credit.”

“Oh, thank you so much, prof–”

“However,” he adds, crossing his arms over his chest, “This will be the only time I do so. From now on, I suggest you see Mr. Gavey here on a regular basis; the material is only going to get more challenging as we begin this next unit.”

“Of course, professor. Thank you again.” You respond quietly, shifting uneasily as you stand between the two men. 

“Right, well, now that’s sorted,” Professor Davies says, clapping his hands together once as he turns and makes his way back over to the desk chair, sitting down with a tired sigh, “I trust the two of you can come to an agreement upon when and where to meet. I’ll see you again Monday, have a pleasant weekend.” He says, waving his hand dismissively as he goes back to organizing his papers. 

The two of you murmur your goodbyes before making your way into the hall, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up as he follows you out of the classroom. Eventually, you come across a small alcove in the hallway; finally turning to face him, you let your eyes sweep up his body, finally coming to meet his blue eyes, slightly hidden behind the glare of the hallway lights on his glasses. 

“So,” you clear your throat and shift on your feet awkwardly, “Uh, what time works for you? I really can’t do Saturdays–” you begin, only to be cut off.

“Shame,” Michael sighs dismissively, a smirk pulling at one corner of his mouth, “Saturday is the only day that works for me.” 

The tone of his voice and the mirthful glint in his eyes makes you very much doubt that, your gaze narrowing, “Okay, well Saturday’s are the only day I have off,” you huff, only growing more annoyed as the stupid smirk on his face grows with satisfaction, no doubt pleased that he’s being a nuisance, “Besides, I super can’t tomorrow, anyway. I already promised my friends I’d come with them to this party tha–”

“Oh, I know about your little party,” Michael scoffs, “Trust me, love, the whole damn class heard about that stupid fucking party with the way you lot were running your mouths earlier,” he chuckles coldly, continuing in an exaggerated high-pitched voice, one hand coming up to mime twirling a lock of hair, “Oooooh, it’s so cold, can’t wear the fuckin’ strappy dress, gotta wear me jumper and little slutty skirt, la-dee-dah.” He finishes with a final huff of laughter. 

“What is your deal with me?!” You finally snap, glaring at him, even as you feel your face redden, “You’ve been a dick all semester and I haven’t done anything to you! I’ve never even talked to you!” Glancing around the empty hallway, you cross your arms over your chest, praying no one’s in earshot to hear your hissed tirade.

“I might not know you but I know plenty about your little friends,” he sneers, shaking his head like a disappointed father; the sight makes your blood boil.

“What does that even mean?” You demand, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. What did your friends have to do with any of this? None of them ever spoke about Michael, none of them even knew him as far as you were aware. 

His face softens, if only for a moment, as he registers the genuine confusion on your face, smirk faltering as his eyes narrow. He leans in closer to you as he begins speaking again and you can’t help but get a brief smell of the cologne he wears, something warm and woodsy that makes you think of a bookshop and the smell of the forest after it rains, “Come on,” he starts, blue eyes flitting between both of yours as he looks at you intently, “Felix Catton? You and your little friend, the one from class, you go around with him, yeah?”

You nod, giving him another puzzled look, confused as to what the hell Felix has to do with any of his disdain, “Yeah,” you say slowly, drawing out the word, “But, what does he have to do with anything?”

Michael huffs once more, almost laughing to himself as he shakes his head, burying his hands in the pockets of his jeans, “See, we went to school together, him and I – some of primary, all of secondary,” he shrugs, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he traps you in his gaze once again, “And I just don’t fucking like the guy. Can’t stand him, never could’ve.” 

You’re silent for a second, and now it’s your turn to flick your eyes back and forth, searching each of his for some sort of coherent answer and yet you come up empty. “But, what does that have to do with me?” You ask slowly, making sure to carefully enunciate each word.

“Don’t trust the people around him either,” he mutters, gazing down at his shoe, “Weirdos, the whole lot. There’s something…off about the guy. Can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something dark there, all around him. Like he’s putting on one big show. All his little gremlins do too, they all act the same.”

The two of you are silent for a moment, neither knowing quite what to say next. You chance a glance up at him, nearly gasping when you find him already gazing at you – an unreadable expression on his face. Yet a light blush still blooms on your cheeks as you quickly look away once again, your heart thudding so loudly you’re wondering if he can hear it – hell, you’re wondering why you’re reacting this way at all, why you’re so shy and skittish around him. 

“M’not like that,” you very nearly whisper, finally seeming to regain your voice. Only to lose it once again when he takes a half step toward you, suddenly crowding you further into the small alcove.

He makes a small noise, damn near cooing at you, tilting his head to the side when he notices you flinch as he raises an arm, gently raising your chin with one hand, angling your head up to meet his gaze, that signature smirk once again taking hold on his face as he looks at you curiously, “You’re not like that, are you?” He asks, his voice low and raspy. 

You quickly shake your head, blinking up at him, unsure of what exactly he wants from you. You feel your cheeks stinging for the umpteenth time today with how hard you’re blushing, a strange feeling taking root in your stomach the longer you stare at him, that small voice in your head positively cheering. 

But, as quickly as whatever spell he seems to have on you takes hold, it’s broken as he suddenly lets go of your chin and steps back, casually pursing his lips and nodding to himself, coming to some unknown decision in his head, “Meet me in Bodleian, tomorrow at five. There’s hardly anyone up on the third floor on the weekends, so we'll be able to focus.” He says simply, turning on his heel to leave without even giving you a second to answer.

“But I’m bus–”

“D’you want a good grade or do you want to go get drunk with your creepy gremlin friends?” He asks, peering over his shoulder as he saunters down the hallway, raising an eyebrow at you over the shiny gold rim of his glasses, “S’your call, love.” He finishes with a shrug, disappearing as he turns a corner and leaves you standing there alone, frowning and dumbstruck. 

“Bodleian at five it is,” you mutter to yourself, sighing as you turn and walk the opposite way, desperately trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach and the fog in your brain. 

Your shoes tap against the stone pavement as you walk up to the old library, backpack slung over one shoulder; reaching into a pocket of your backpack, you blindly grab for your phone as you pull open one of the heavy, old wooden doors and step into the atrium. Out of all of Oxford’s libraries, you had to admit that Bodleian was one of your favorites; it had such a soothing atmosphere – from the way the evening light trickled in through the old glass windows, to the intricate wooden decor, and the way the entire place smelled of the old, well-loved books that lined the countless rows of shelves. 

Stepping to the side of the entryway, you check the time, your hand shaking a bit as you unlock your phone – 4:53pm, a little early, still. Sighing, you crane your head, nervously looking for Michael. Not seeing him, you decide to bide your time examining one of the tall bookshelves near the entrance, eyes skimming over their titles as you fiddle with the strings of the hoodie you’d decided to wear. Smiling, you lean up on your tiptoes to grab a copy of The Two Towers, happy to see a familiar book. Just as your fingers graze over the embossed gold lettering on the spine of the book, a large pair of hands grab you by the shoulders.

“Boo!” Someone whispers, close enough that you feel the warmth of their breath on the side of your neck. 

You spin around with a small shriek, jerking your head to the side when a hand is suddenly clasped over your mouth.

“Shh! Hey, relax!” Finally managing to focus on the face in front of you, your breathing slows as your gaze meets a pair of round blue eyes. Michael’s face is only inches from yours, concern evident, even behind the mask of a smirk he wears. “It’s only me.” He says softly, smirk softening into a genuine smile that sends a frantic tingle down your spine, which you desperately try to ignore as you nod against his hand, gasping in a small breath as it lowers once again to rest on your shoulder. 

“Hi.” Blinking up at him, you breathe the word more so than say it as you settle back on your feet, cheeks flushing as you realize he has his other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you forward ever so slightly, like he wanted to make sure your head didn’t hit the sharp edge of one of the shelves; the voice in your head purrs as the butterflies in your stomach summersalt. 

“Hi.” He answers and you feel the hand on your shoulder twitch, the ghost of a comforting squeeze or rub causing the hair on the back of your neck to stand on end as some strange, warm weight settles in the pit of your stomach. 

Suddenly, whatever spell the two of you seemed to be under broke and you quickly clambered away from one another. Michael cleared his throat, running a hand through his wheat colored hair as you tugged at the sleeves of your hoodie, trying to look anywhere but in his direction. “Should we–” He starts suddenly, nodding his head to a staircase at the other end of the room, “It’ll be quieter up there.”

“Sure!” You chirp, giving him a curt nod, “Lead the way, you seem to know the place better than I do.”

“Well,” he chuckles, keeping his voice low as he moves past you, “S’what happens when you don’t spend all your damn time at weirdo parties.” 

You roll your eyes behind him, huffing as you start following him up the staircase, one of your hands gliding across the smooth, polished wood of the bannister. 

“Sorry.” He says suddenly as you reach the third floor of the library, running a hand through his hair once again as he stands at the top of the staircase. 

“What?” You ask, coming to a stop on the last step and looking up at him, tilting your head to the side as you lean against the handrail. 

“For earlier,” he explains, gesturing for you to follow him as he starts making his way to the back corner of the large, open space, the one furthest from the stairs, “Scaring you, I mean. Didn’t mean to.”

You’re quiet for a moment, following him as the two of you walk past aisle after aisle of towering bookshelves. The area is definitely quieter than the main floor, nearly vacant aside from one or two lone students sitting at the long wooden study tables. It’s calm up here, evening light filtering in through large windows on either end of the long room, casting large shadows on the floor and vaulted ceilings.

Eventually, the two of you come to a stop at a table, the very last in its row, tucked away in a corner. “It’s alright,” you shrug, trying to keep your voice soft in the quiet space as you sit your backpack on the edge of the table, “I don’t know why I’m so jumpy today, maybe the tea from earlier.” You lie, hopefully smoothly, and quickly grab a pen and notebook as well, before sitting down.

Michael huffs to himself as he sits his things out on the table as well, like he’s laughing at a joke you can’t hear, “Maybe it’s all that tension.”

“Wh��� tension?” You question, cringing at the urgency in your voice as you pray that he doesn’t pick up on it, shifting in your seat as he pulls out the chair next to you and plops down, completely relaxed as if he owns the place. 

“The stress? That you were meant to be working out at Catton’s?” He gives you an odd look, resting his head against his hand as he leans his elbow on the table, “Couldn’t help but overhear your little conversation yesterday.”

“Oh…” You breathe, a pink haze settling over your cheeks once more as you fidget with your pen, acutely aware of how easily he seems to be able to make you blush. 

The smirk on his face widens as he narrows his eyes, studying you in a way that makes your heart squeeze, your thighs clenching together as that heady weight from earlier makes itself known again in your stomach, “You can’t keep one thought in that head, can you, love?”

You blink, unsure of what to say, as two halves of your brain argue with one another. Why is he so mean? You wonder to yourself, eyes searching his, as you frown, And…God, why do I like it?

“Why don’t you like me?” You ask, finally breaking the silence with your small voice. 

He scoffs again, shaking his head as if the answer should be obvious to you, “You don’t take it seriously. You come to class and whisper and gossip with your damn friend or doodle in your little notebook, but you don’t fucking listen.” He sits back up, frowning, “I work hard every fucking day in there, for fuck’s sake, I only agreed to help you because I want to be Davies’s teaching assistant next year! Yet you and Catton and everyone like you can just pay their way in here, collecting a little diploma from Oxford just so their parents can brag about it with their stupid fucking rich friends.” He finally finishes, turning his head to stare out the window. 

“Told you, I’m not like that,” you whisper after a moment, voice wavering from the tightness in the back of your throat, “I’m here on scholarship, same as you.” 

His eyes flit back to you, his frown deepening, “How did you know ab–”

“Like I’m not going to ask around about the guy tutoring me?”

“Fair enough.” He concedes after a minute. 

Silence settles over the two of you again, like a stalemate, waiting to see who would crack first. Finally, you turn to him with a sigh, nodding to your test paper on the desk, “Can we just get this done? I don’t want to be here any more than you do.”

“Ah, of course,” he nods as he picks up your test, looking over the first incorrect problem, “Catton’s big important party. And you’re stuck here with a loser like me; must really be doing your head in, huh?” 

You want so badly to correct him, to tell him that no, actually, for once, you were kind of excited to not be at one of Felix’s parties. You wanted to tell him that you’d hoped things would be different, maybe if it was just the two of you he would drop the arrogant asshole bit, that you stupidly hoped it was just an act. 

Instead, you bite your lip, determined not to lash out and give him another reason to dislike you, “I don’t think you’re a loser, Michael,” you say, tiredly meeting his gaze, “Can we just focus on this now, please?” 

He’s quiet for a moment, frozen like you’d said something groundbreaking. Finally, he nods his head, almost imperceptibly like he’d come to a decision you weren’t privy to, “Sure,” he says gruffly, grabbing your test and reading over the first incorrect problem, “S’not like I’m the one failing.” He finishes, his voice tight and determined, like he knew it was something he’d regret saying even as the words left his mouth. 

See? You think silently, pointed words aimed at that stupid voice in your head, Told you so.

It’s barely an hour later and you already feel cross-eyed, groaning as Michael flips your test over to the next page and you see you’re only just now halfway done correcting the ones you’d gotten wrong. You hate to admit it to yourself, but his tutoring was helping — problems that you’d hardly been able to finish the first time seem far less daunting as he explains them to you. Even he seems less daunting as the hour goes on; shockingly, he doesn’t make anymore snide comments and you can tell that he genuinely enjoys talking about the subject, patiently helping you through each problem. 

“Can we take a break?” You grumble, laying your head down on top of your textbook. 

“What?” He scoffs, rolling his eyes as he checks his watch, “It’s hardly been an hour and you’re ready to give up?” 

“‘M not giving up,” you mumble, “I just think we could use a little break…” You say hopefully, looking at him with a small smile. When he doesn’t break, holding your gaze with a frown, you sigh, “Just, like, ten minutes, please?” 

You want to groan again when you see that formidable smirk make its home on his lips again, “Say please again.” He commands, his voice low. 

“Huh?” You balk, nearly dropping your phone as you retrieve it from your pocket. 

“Say please again,” he says slowly, his smirk only growing wider as he watches your cheeks redden, “Beg.” 

“W-why?” You question, face burning as you try your damndest to look unbothered by his request. 

He shrugs dismissively, “Makes you squirm,” he answers finally, leaning back in his chair, “I like that.”

“Why?” Your voice is so small you doubt he’d even know you spoke if his eyes weren’t fixed on you. 

He hums, a satisfied noise, like you’ve finally managed to meander into a trap he’d set ages ago, “S’fucking cute,” he huffs out a laugh when he sees your eyes widen, “Makes you blush and act all dumb.” 

You know you should be offended, but you can’t find it within yourself to care, “You think I’m cute?” 

He chuckles, sighing, “That’s what you choose to focus on?” 

“Do you?” 

“Fine, yes.” 

“Please, Michael,” you say suddenly, the words feeling practically punched from your throat, “Please, please can we have a break? Please, only ten minutes?” You beg, breathing hard as you quickly scan the room, shoulders relaxing when you don’t see anyone else sitting at the study tables. 

You see the way his eyes widen behind his glasses, like he can’t believe you actually did it, before they narrow once more, overtaken by a satisfied gleam, “Ten minutes.” He says simply, leaning back in his chair yet again, letting his head flop back, relaxed, and closes his eyes. 

You don’t move for a second, letting your eyes study the side of his face, looking over his sharp jawline and the curve of his nose. After a moment, you look away, deciding to pull out your phone. 

A few minutes go by as you answer a few texts from Louise, telling her that you miss her too and how you wish you were at the party — a lie, though you can’t find it within yourself to care. You busy yourself for a while longer, watching a few people's Instagram stories, the volume on your phone muted as you watch your friends dance under colorful strobe lights, blowing smoke at the camera and clinking drinks together. 

“I meant what I said.” You say finally, laying your phone on the table and picking at one of your cuticles. 

“Hm?” Michael questions, not bothering to open his eyes. 

“I don’t think you’re a loser,” you answer, fidgeting, “I never have. I think you’re…intriguing.”

“Intriguing?” He asks, finally sitting up and looking at you with a questioning stare, “How so?” 

You swallow, tucking your hair behind your ear with a shrug, “You’re smart…you know you’re smart,” you start, voice small and shaky, “I like that.”

“You like that or you like me?” He’s looking at you like a cat playing with a helpless mouse, looking at you like he knows he’s already won a game you don’t even know the two of you are playing. 

“You.” It comes out as a breath. 

He doesn’t answer and eventually you look away from him, choosing to stare out the window at the streetlights outside, the sky dark. 

Finally, the silence becomes overbearing and you break first again, “Thank you,” you smile at him, keeping your voice low even though you know the rest of the floor is vacant, even though the noise of the floors below has drastically faded over the last hour, “For helping me, I mean. You probably have a dozen things you’d rather do on a Saturday.” 

He stays quiet for a few seconds, “I didn’t really have anything better to do,” he smirks, “No parties.” 

“None?” 

“Never,” he shakes his head, shrugging, “Don’t get invited.” 

“Oh,” you answer simply, “Well, still, either way, thank you.” You smile again, but it falters when he leans forward suddenly, crowding into your space with a sly grin, so close that you can feel his breath on your neck. 

“I know a way you could repay me, love,” he whispers lowly into your ear, your hair standing on end, “Only if you want to, of course.” He adds, his long fingers toying with a strand of your hair. 

Your eyes grow comically wide as you process what he just said, “H-how do you want me to repay you?” You whisper, your eyes finally meeting his. 

He laughs softly, letting go of the strand of your hair to rest his hand lightly against the side of your face, his thumb skimming over your cheek as he watches a rosy hue settle across it, “I can think,” he starts, thumb moving lower to skate across your bottom lip, slightly tugging the skin with it, “Of one very fucking good way to put this mouth to use, love.” 

You part your lips slightly, letting the tip of his thumb into your mouth, just barely holding it between your teeth as you lightly run your tongue over it, heart skipping a beat at the way his lips just barely part in shock as you do. The voice in your head purrs again, roaring back to life, and you nod, smiling around his finger. 

“Yeah?” He questions, smirking as he watches your lips twitch around his thumb, “”Y’wanna?”

“Yes.” You reply around his thumb, your hands coming up to hold onto his forearm, the fabric of his rust colored sweater soft under your hands. 

“Beg.” He commands again, eyes twinkling. 

You take in a breath, eyes slipping shut as your thighs clench around nothing – missing the way Michael glances down at the movement, a knowing grin forming on his face, “Please, Michael.” You practically whine. 

“Ooh,” he coos, finally moving his thumb from your mouth, only to trail his hand down your neck, lightly resting it against your throat, “I think you can do better than that, pretty. Open your eyes and damn beg.” 

You follow his orders, a small whimper skirting past your lips at the new pet name as you open your eyes, “Please, Michael, please let me repay you, let me thank you, please.” The words tumble out, your eyes wide and pleading. 

“How’re you planning on doing that, empty headed little thing?” He taunts, the hand around your throat just barely tightening but it’s enough to make you let out a small, desperate whine. He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, moving close enough to you that the front of his chest is plastered to your side, his heart beating against your shoulder, “Ask for what you want, beg properly.” His breath fans across the side of your face again, the feeling of his lips brushing over the side of your jaw making you jump. 

“Please, God, Michael,” you whine, squeezing your legs together so hard you’re surprised they haven’t fused together, “P-please let me suck your cock — to thank you, thank you for helping me.” You add quickly, breath shaky as you turn your head to look at him imploringly. 

He chuckles, but he looks pleased as he leans back momentarily, craning his neck to make sure there isn’t anyone around, “Alright, alright, love,” he soothes, coming back to face you, nodding his head to the empty space in front of his hair, below the table, “Not God, but I’ll give you what you want.” He teases.

Your breath catches in your throat as you look down at the floor beneath the desk, then back up at him before nodding, “Yes, sir.” You push yourself off your chair, sliding down beneath the desk. 

“Goddammit,” you hear him groan above you, running his palms over his thighs as he parts them, making room for you, “Keep that up, love, might even give you extra credit.” 

You rest your palms against the tops of his thighs as you move between his legs, getting comfortable on your knees, the old wooden floor cool against your skin, even through your black leggings. Finally, your eyes settle on the sizable bulge, covered by his dark jeans, and you can’t help the small whine that leaves your lips. Slowly, you move your hands up to the button of his pants, quickly popping it open and dragging the zipper down, smiling when Michael sighs above you as he pulls his sweater up out of the way, exposing the pale skin of his stomach. You let your eyes roam over him, warmth settling between your legs as you spot the dusting of light hair that starts beneath his belly button and leads downwards, disappearing under his plaid boxers.

You move closer to him, crowding in between his long legs, as you hook your fingers over the tops of his boxers, before finally looking up at him, “Can I…?” You ask, nodding to where his cock is straining against the fabric. 

“Don’t be shy now, princess,” he groans, running a hand through your hair as he stares down at you, “Get on with it.”

You keep your eyes on his as you pull his boxers down, just enough to free his cock, watching the way his chest heaves as he lets out another relieved sigh. Finally, you tear your gaze away from his as you look at his cock, gasping in a breath as you do. As far as dicks go, Michaels is impressive, beautiful even – long and thick with veins running up the underside, leading up to a flushed, leaking tip. 

You take him in your hand tentatively, squeezing him lightly around the base, your confidence growing when he grunts, breathing heavier. Finally, you lightly lick the tip, eyes sliding closed at the pleasant, salty taste of his pre-cum. You take the tip of him in your mouth, humming around him when his fingers tighten in your hair, lightly pushing on the back of your head, silently urging you to take more of him. 

“Fuck, that’s it,” he roughly groans, managing to keep his voice low, “Knew that pretty fucking mouth was good for something.” He moves his hips, impatiently thrusting his cock an inch deeper into your mouth, breathily cursing under his breath. 

You start bobbing your head up and down over his length, taking more and more of him into your mouth, more of his pre-cum leaking onto your tongue as you feel his dick throb and twitch in your hand. After a moment, you take a deep breath through your nose and remove your hand, resting it on his thigh, as you take him all the way to the base, your nose nestled in the short patch of hair there as you breathe in his heady scent, your eyes glazing over as you savor the feeling of him at the back of your throat. 

“Jesus!” He grunts, louder than he meant to, keeping your head in place as he thrusts his hips up again, keeping you in place at the base of his cock, “Fuck, that’s it,” he praised lowly, your center throbbing, no doubt leaking onto the fabric of your leggings, “Look at me, wanna see your eyes while I fuck your throat.”

You whine, desperately blinking back tears as you look up at him, trying to keep your breathing even. You hold his gaze as you stick your tongue out, licking lower, down toward his balls, relishing the way his eyes roll back as you do, stomach muscles twitching as he continues thrusting his hips up into your mouth, soaking his boxers and jeans with your spit. 

“Oh, fuck, that’s it,” he groans, looking down at you, his eyelids heavy, “God, yeah, cry on my cock love. Fuck, you look so pretty crying on my cock.” He mumbles, talking to himself more so than you. 

His words send a shiver down your spine, adding to the heat in your center, and you whimper when he finally moves his hand from the back of your head, allowing you to come up for air. You do, with a gasp, thin strings of spit connecting your reddened lips with the flushed head of his cock. You keep your eyes on his as you wrap your lips around him once more, running your tongue along the thick vein on the underside before sucking at the swollen tip, relishing the way it makes him clench his jaw and gasp through his teeth as you stroke the rest of him with your hand. 

Above you, he smirks again, gently running his hand through your hair but making no move to press your head down again. He cocks his head to the side, studying you, grinning at the far-off, foggy look in your eyes, “Not a thought in that pretty head, is there?” He asks, bringing his hand down and gently patting your cheek; the ghost of a slap making your thighs clench, making your head dizzy with need. 

You nod around him, moving your head up and down along his length. You feel yourself throbbing with need, pulsing with heat; almost automatically, your hand starts to wander, a small sigh escaping you as your hand presses against your center through your leggings. You feel a warmth settle across your cheeks again as you feel your own wetness, leaking through the fabric just as you’d suspected. You whimper as you press down again, your eyes falling shut as you let your hips grind against your fingers, the wet fabric creating a delicious friction against your clit. 

Which you get to feel for all of five seconds before Michael is suddenly yanking your head from his length, causing you to yelp as he tugs your hair. “Did I say you could touch your cunt?” 

“N-no,” you whine pathetically, eyes watering from the harsh hold he has on your hair, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t think—“ You try to explain, only for him to cut you off with another harsh tug, making you mewl. 

“That’s a pattern with you, isn’t it?” He asks, looking at you with a condescending smirk, studying you again, “You were being such a good girl earlier, what happened? Hm?” He questions, pushing his chair back enough to pull you out from under the table. 

You get to your feet, suddenly feeling shy in front of him once again despite having his cock in your mouth mere moments ago. “I…got distracted.” You answer finally. 

“I got distracted….who?” He asks, looking up at you expectantly over the rims of his glasses. 

“I got distracted, sir,” you quickly correct yourself, eyes frantically scanning the still vacant floor of the library, “I’m sorry.”

“That’s much better, love,” he drawls, placing his hands on your hips, “Now, what could’ve been so fucking distracting, huh?” He starts moving his hands, slowly, toward your center, still looking up at you, his eyes questioning. You nod your head, just barely but enough for him to understand, and any hesitancy from him quickly disappeared. “Could it be this, I wonder?” He questions sardonically, suddenly cupping your heat in his large hand, the warmth of it nearly making your knees buckle, even through the thin fabric of your leggings. He hums, the sound low in his chest, when he feels how much you’ve soaked the fabric, 

“Oh,” you whimper, grabbing at his shoulders to keep yourself balanced as his fingers continue to tease you, rubbing circles into your clit, “Oh my God, fuck.”

“Christ,” he breathes, staring up at you with dark eyes, “So fucking wet, love, holy hell. Did you get this way just from sucking my cock?”

“Yeah,” you whine, nodding your head desperately as you try to swallow all the small noises you want to make in your throat, your hips rutting against his hand, “Please, sir!”

“Oh, so now that dumb brain has no trouble remembering damn instructions, huh?” He taunts, a wicked grin on his face as his fingers rub your clit in smaller, harsher circles, making you see stars, “Need your wet little cunt played with to be able to do as you're told?”

You nod your head frantically, tears nearly spilling from your eyes at the zaps of pleasure radiating from you, your walls clenching around nothing. Just as you feel yourself about to tip over the edge, he stops, jerking his hand away from you with a knowing chuckle, “W-what?” You question, eyes blinking open, “I was so close!” You whine, nearly stamping your foot on the floor like a petulant child. 

“Told you,” Michael shrugs, pulling you to sit in his lap, your back against his chest as he wraps his arms around you. His breath tickles the side of your neck and face when he speaks again, “You’re so fun to tease, love, can’t help myself.”

You wiggle in his grasp, making him groan as your ass grinds against his hard length, desperately trying to get your hands free to touch your pussy again, nearly out of your mind with need. “P-please, sir, please touch me!” You finally gasp out, knowing he won’t give in until you do.

“Now there’s a good girl,” he says, voice pleased and cocky as he plants kisses along the side of your neck, “Since you asked so nicely…” He says, letting go of one of your arms, letting you grasp the arm still wrapped around you with your hands, as his free hand skirts down your stomach to the top of your leggings, pausing long enough for you to nod again, before he finally touches you. 

You whimper, jerking in his lap at the feel of his warm fingers directly on your heat for the first time, spreading your wet folds with a satisfied hum. His long fingers move down to your entrance, gathering some of the wetness there, “You’re so fucking wet,” he marvels, dragging his fingers up to your aching clit, “Fucking dripping on my fingers.” He murmurs in your ear, nipping at the side of your neck and sending tingles down your spine as he starts rubbing tight, wet circles against your bud. 

You tilt your head back, resting it against his shoulder as your chest heaves. A moan leaves your mouth, louder than it should be, and Michaels free hand shoots up, wrapping around your mouth. “Gotta be quiet, love,” he whispers, not slowing down the movement of his fingers in the slightest, “Wouldn’t want someone to interrupt, hm? Make me stop again?” 

You squeeze your eyes shut, whining desperately against his hand as he moves his fingers against you, the coil in your belly winding tighter and tighter. Your whole body lurches atop his, making him suck a breath in through his teeth as you move against his cock, still hard and hot as it presses against your lower back, when he moves his hand lower, plunging two fingers into your tight heat with no warning. “Fuck!” You yelp, muffled against his hand; tears leak from the corners of your eyes as he moves his fingers, scissoring them into you relentlessly as his thumb circles your clit. 

“S’fucking tight,” he mumbles lowly, voice vibrating his chest against your back, “God, you’re tight.” He grunts between clenched teeth, repeatedly crooking his fingers inside you as he fucks his fingers in and out of your heat, letting out small, barely there groans every time your pussy squelches around his fingers as he punches muffled whines and whimpers from you. He crooks his fingers up suddenly in a way that makes you see stars as you writhe on his lap, your knees shooting up off the floor as you attempt to curl up on yourself, “That the spot?” He teases, relentlessly rubbing his fingers against it as his thumb quickens against your clit. He adds a third finger without warning, curling them up against that rough patch inside you as he bites down on your shoulder, muffling his own groan as he feels you clench down on his fingers. 

“You gonna come?” He mumbles, grinning like a cheshire cat when you frantically nod your head, tears leaking onto the hand still wrapped tightly around your mouth. “Open your eyes,” he commands, not stopping his movements, “Want you to watch what I’m doing to you when you fucking cum.”

At the promise of finally getting to come, your eyes shoot open as you pick your head up off his shoulder, looking down the length of your body to where his hand disappears under your leggings. You practically come undone at the sight, watching as his hand moves against you through the dark fabric, maintaining a careful rhythm. “Michael, please!” You whine against his hand, desperately trying to keep your eyes open. 

He chuckles lowly, clearly proud of how quickly he’s been able to reduce you into a begging mess, the sound reverberating off your back. “Fucking come,” he commands, doubling his efforts, “Soak my fucking hand, love.”

The coil in your stomach finally snaps and you sob, eyes snapping shut as your whole body clenches, shaking in his lap, as fireworks burst behind your eyelids. Your entire core clamps down so tight he has to fight to keep his fingers within you, muting the sounds of his groans against your neck and shoulder as he feels your cunt pulse against his fingers. He doesn’t let up, pressing incessantly against that spot within you as you come, until he finally gets what he wants – both of you groaning together, noises muffled, as a stream of fluid seems to erupt from your center, soaking his hand and the inside of your leggings, though you can’t think enough to care at the moment. 

“Goddammit,” he grunts, finally removing his hand from your leggings, running his fingers through your folds one last time just to make you squirm. Suddenly, he’s lifting you off his lap enough to turn you around, maneuvering you to face him. You’re practically boneless in his lap as he lifts you just enough to pull your leggings down over your ass, pressing his bare cock against your still throbbing center when he sets you back down, “Gonna let me fuck you, love? Hm? Want me to make you go dumb around my cock?” 

You nod your head weakly, not bothering to lift it from his shoulder as you straddle his lap. He doesn’t make you beg this time, too desperate to feel your wet heat around him, as he swiftly lifts you up again, just enough to align his length with your entrance. 

Both of you moan as he lets you sit back down, his hard length disappearing into your warmth. He holds the back of your head, pressing your mouth against his neck to muffle your cries; you can feel his jaw clench with the effort of keeping his own muted. He fills you deliciously, thick cock pressed against every part of you, as your clit presses against the small thatch of hair above his length. 

“Fuck,” he huffs, the word hissed between his teeth as he squeezes his eyes shut, savoring the way your pussy pulses around his length, the way you desperately mouth and lick at his neck, “God, knew you’d feel good.” 

Somehow, that remark works it’s way through the fog in your brain, “Hm?” you hum against his neck, your hands coming up to tangle in his golden hair, “You thought about me?” You whimper, words whiny and breathy as he rocks you against him, spearing you on his length again and again, head kissing your cervix just enough to knock the air from your lungs every time he lowers you back down. 

He sighs, as if just now realizing what he’d said, and nods, swallowing down a moan before he speaks, “‘Course I did,” he admits, grinding you down against him, his hips pressed against yours. “Looked so damn pretty in class,” he continues, “So cute all, fuck, all flushed and embarrassed every time you got asked a question.” 

His admission makes you clench around him, heat flooding through your system as you process what he’d said. Your clit grinds against his body again, just as the head of his cock brushes against that spot in your center, and it’s like your brain has been whited out, all you can do is mewl against his neck as he rocks you up and down along his cock. 

“Fuck, I feel this sweet cunt getting tight, love,” he says, breathing heavily as he gets closer to his own release, “Y’gonna come?” 

“Yes!” You whimper, voice high-pitched and broken as you nod frantically against the skin of his neck, now wet with your spit and tears as you rock yourself against him, moving your clit against the hair at the base of his cock. 

“Hold it,” he commands softly, more breathing than speaking. He chuckles when he hears you whine, loving the way you mewl for him like a soft little kitten, and the hand still holding your head against him strokes your hair, soothing you. “Want us to come together,” he huffs, cursing under his breath as he feels you grow somehow tighter around him, “Fuck, I’m close just hold on.” The hand on your hip tightens, grinding you tightly against him, groaning as he feels your center milking his cock, your walls clenching around him desperately. 

“F-fuck, Michael,” you whine, breath hot against the column of his throat as you feel yourself tipping over, “Please! Please I can’t hold it, please!” You beg beautifully, weeping against his skin, trying so hard to keep it down to a whisper so you don’t draw attention, not this close to your release. 

“Where, fuck,” he curses, pulling your head up to look in your eyes, the blue in his nearly swallowed by blackness, “Tell me where.” He pants, his voice urgent.

“Inside me!” You breathe, cunt clenching around him as you feel him twitch inside you.

He groans, forehead resting against your shoulder for a second as he tries to maintain control, both of his hands gripping your ass hard enough to leave bruises, “Are you s–”

“Yes!” You nod, resting your forehead against his when he picks his head back up, “‘M on the pill.” You reassure him as you keep nodding. The two of you move together for a few more seconds, wildly grinding together, before the coil in your stomach is finally wound too tight, “Michael, oh, fuck!”

“Fuck,” he gasps, seeming to get somehow thicker inside you, “Come for daddy, fuck, be good and come.” He commands, his own voice low and frenzied.

Hearing him call himself that does you in, and you shatter around him, walls gripping him tightly. You open your mouth, unable to control a loud moan, which he quickly hushes by pressing his lips against yours, licking into your mouth as he thrusts up into your center harshly a few times, each rise of his hips accompanied by a grunt into your waiting mouth as you mewl at the heat of his cum filling you up, extending your own release. 

The two of you stay quiet for a moment, breathing heavily as you sweetly kiss, tiredly pressing your lips together. Finally, you pull away from him giggling shyly when you meet his eyes, blushing as you feel his length slowly softening inside you. “Getting shy on me now?” He teases, smiling at you as he gently plays with your hair. 

You smile back at him for a second before suddenly coming to your senses and remembering where you are, “Shit,” you whisper, hopping up off his lap, “I cannot believe we just did that!” You quickly scan the floor with wide eyes, shoulders visibly relaxing when you still don’t see anyone.

“Wasn’t in my plan,” Michael starts, tucking his member back into his boxers and zipping up his jeans, “But I’m certainly not complaining.” He finishes, smirking at you before standing. He leans down, helping you pull up your leggings. He doesn’t miss the way you grimace when the damp, now unpleasantly cool, fabric presses against you. “Sorry,” he apologizes, gesturing to them, “I should’ve…controlled myself better with that one.” He finishes, awkwardly scratching at his chin. 

You laugh quietly, trying to play it off although you’re dreading the half hour train ride back to your flat. That feeling doubles when you look down, eyes widening as you see the dark patch around your crotch, hardly visible on the dark fabric but enough that it makes you nervous, “Getting home is gonna be fun.” You joke, turning to begin gathering your things. 

You’ve gotten your textbook put back into your backpack when you feel a tap on your shoulder; turning your head, you look wide-eyed when you see him sheepishly smiling at you, holding his red sweater out as he stands in a band t-shirt, “Here,” he says softly, waving the sweater at you, “You need it more than I do and it’s my fucking fault anyway.”

You blush, taking the sweater from him with a small thank you, tying it around your waist as he busies himself with picking up his things, before putting the rest of yours into your backpack as well, “Oh, you didn’t have to do that!” You tell him as you finish situating his sweater around you, satisfied that the stain is covered.

He huffs out a laugh, “You sucked my cock on the floor of a library,” he jokes, eyes sparkling with mischief yet again, “S’the least I could do.” 

You laugh, playfully shoving at his shoulder as you put your backpack on. The floor is truly, blessedly, empty as the two of you leave and walk downstairs, not seeing anyone on the second floor either and only a few stragglers on the main floor at this hour on a Saturday evening. He pushes open one of the heavy wooden doors at the entrance, holding it open for you as you duck under his arm. The door thuds closed behind you as you both stand outside the library, the air cold now that the sun’s gone down. 

“I really like them, that band,” you say, nodding to his shirt, “Their last album’s really good.”

“Oh!” He says, eyebrows raising in surprise, “You know them?” He asks, smiling when you nod again, “Their new album is probably my favorite too, actually.” The two of you stand in a comfortable silence for a second later before he notices you shiver as a breeze blows through the stoney courtyard. “D’you live close to campus?”

“Half hour on the train,” you shrug, pulling your phone out to check the time, “I should probably go soon if I’m gonna catch the next one…”

“You could come to mine?” He asks, his voice hopeful, “It’s only a walk from here, maybe fifteen or twenty minutes?”

Your eyes widen, having not expected his invitation, but you nod nonetheless, “If you’re sure,” he nods, “Then, yeah! That would be great.” You smile, walking beside him as you start heading in the direction of his flat. 

“Would you maybe want to get lunch sometime?” He asks, glancing down at you.

“I would love that,” you smile, your hand brushing against his as you continue down the sidewalk, “I think I might need more tutoring, too…”

His hand catches yours, your fingers intertwining as he smirks, “Will you suck my cock every time?” He teases, grinning as you laugh, the sound echoing off the buildings and filtering into the night air. 

Told you so. The voice in the back of your mind echos as you lean your head on Michael’s shoulder.

tagged lovelies: @schniiipsel @arcielee @darlingofvalyria @aemshaircare @imaegontatgaryenwife0 @valeskafics @beautbuck @watercolorskyy @marysucks-blog @fan-goddess @drakonflames @helloworldiamnotarobot

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

[nothorses]

You've made a lot of really great posts about transmasc experiences and struggles, and they really resonate with me! So I guess I want to in complete earnest ask: why the push for 'transandrophobia' when anti-transmasculinity as a term has been around for longer and faces little friction by comparison? I don't really *dislike* transandrophobia, but its meaning gets muddied everywhere from different directions, while ATM is pretty direct and succinct I feel. It's very clear that it's about TRANSmasculine oppression. I'm not against having a dedicated term at all, but the content of our struggles gets lost in the weeds of attaching kind of understandably divisive terms like misandry and androphobia in an attempt to mirror a phenomenon very specifically about misogyny; it seems more trouble than it's worth considering ATM is right there

I'll be honest, this ask is confusing to me for a few reasons.

When I started talking about transandrophobia around the summer of 2020, the conversations I was encountering were very much, like, a handful of people across Twitter and Tumblr (literally, a handfull!). I picked up "transandrophobia" because it was one of two words I saw in use, and the other- "transmisandry"- felt much less clear and much more contentious. It seemed super obvious to me that people would draw a line from "men's rights activists" trying to push this idea that "misandry", as a systemic oppression of men by women, to "transmisandry", and assume some ill intent where there was none. It's confusing!

"Transandrophobia" was the better of two options being floated at the time, at least in any conversation I saw. "Anti-transmasculinity" was not really a term I'd been made aware of, if anyone at all was talking about it at the time.

I have seen people pick up "anti-transmasculinity" more recently (maybe in the last year?), and this is definitely the first I've seen someone shorten it to "ATM". The people I've seen use that term have been mostly people who seem really new to the conversation, and the vibe I've gotten has been very, like, "we're the Good Transmascs, our word isn't dirty and gross like those other Bad Transmascs everyone hates. you'll listen to us now that our word is Good and Pure, right?"

Which is like... kind of frustrating, and kind of sad, honestly. I think these people honestly believe that if they just choose the right word, all the people who've been dragging me and every other transmasc talking about these issues through the mud for the last 4 years or so will really just stop & listen. If they can just say it right, these people- who have been relentlessly harassing and spreading lies about every single transmasc who came before them for years now- will care what they have to say, and will be willing to engage with them in earnest, compassionate dialogue.

If you just find the right word, all of these people will care about your hurt, your pain, and the suffering of your community.

It kind of breaks my heart. It's an incredibly hopeful, kind, loving way to view the world. It's compassion and patience and forgiveness that these folks are not being given, but that they so badly want to offer to others.

And at the same time, it sucks to be the Bad Transmasc. It sucks to have fought so hard for so long, and for the people I've been fighting for all this time to turn around and say, "you're gross, and dirty, and evil, and everything you've done is a mistake." It sucks to see the people I've been fighting for agree with the people I've been fighting against, and shove me under the bus in an effort to appeal to the people running me over with it. Knowing that the bus is going to aim for them once it's done with me just makes it sadder, yknow?

@saint-speaks wasn't the first person to ever speak the word "transandrophobia", but he is the one who coined and popularized it in its current form. And then he was dragged through the mud so hard and so brutally that some people think I coined it, just because when I defended him (too little and too late, imo) I withstood the mud-dragging better than he did (and gee, I wonder white.)

And now people take for granted that everything everyone said about hymn to justify that frankly fucking evil harassment campaign was true, actually, and we should abandon the word he coined and find one with purer origins.

If you honestly think "anti-transmasculinity" is just a more practical word, that's fine. I don't care what word we use. But they're going to cover it in mud, too. They're going to cover every one of you in mud.

Will you keep fighting for "ATM" once they make it the new dirty, gross, bad, evil word? Will you keep fighting when they drag you and everyone else through the mud for using it? Or will you agree with them, make up a new word, and never look back?

Please don't let us drown in the mud. We've been fighting for you, and we want to fight with you. Please.

[helioooss]

that one summer

synopsis: y/n recalls the summer that changed everything - the one where her and sana end up together

w/c: 2.9k

warnings: none, just cute stuff. not proofread so u can call me stupid 💀

a/n: i seriously can’t write fluff. it’s like i have to be profoundly sad all the time or else i can’t think. !!! how good is sailor song???

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

"You know, you're not bad looking," Dahyun starts and you're already rolling your eyes, knowing what's about to come out of her foul mouth. "You just give off, like, really big lesbian loser vibes."

"You haven't seen me in over two months and that's the first thing you say?" you ask her, brows furrowing. She isn't wrong, though, but there is no shame in admitting that either. "And what if I'm a loser?"

"Well, my friend, your grand plan is winning over miss Minatozaki Sana this year, aren't you?" she teasingly raises both of her eyebrows at you. “You really need to grow some balls, Y/N, like look at her at least once when she’s up close - not just from afar.”

You throw a piece of your lettuce at her and she instantly grimaces. “Shut up, you know I can’t do that.”

“Why don’t you hook up with Yunjin? I think she’s still into you,” and she introduces that idea as soon as Sana walks past your table, making you look down at your shoes just to avoid her striking gaze. “Whoops, said that too loud, didn’t I?”

You’re taken aback when Sana pulls away from her friend group and sits herself next to you. Then she unexpectedly wraps an arm around you…but you just had to move away.

"Oh?" Sana's lips curve into a frown, noticing how you're practically pushing her off of you as you let out a nervous chuckle. You want nothing but some sort of phenomenon to swallow you whole and never let you back out right now. "You're ignoring me now, baby?"

And that's it; it's the end of it all. You can feel Dahyun's sharp (and confused) glare from the corner of your eye, she's probably screaming in her head - maybe with a tinge of desire to choke you dead for not telling her why the girl you've been pining over for the past four years has her arms wrapped around you. And kissing you.

The girl in front of you chuckles, her palm tapping your cheek to pull out of whatever trance you're in. "Earth to my beautiful Y/N," she places an innocent kiss on your cracked and dry lips. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," you manage to choke out, breath hitching. No. Your cheeks are flushed, heart racing a million more beats than usual; everyone around you mirroring the same expression as your best friend. "What are you doing here?"

It must've sounded wrong to Sana cause now her face is feigned with hurt, mixed with a bit of anger. "Did you not want to see me?"

Dahyun decides that's her cue to leave. You nervously fidget with the hem of your shirt, refusing to look up at her. "No, no, it's not that!"

"You didn't even introduce me to her," Sana's attention is too focused on you that she only notices your best friend's departure when she's steps ahead of you two. "And why are you acting so cold?"

You purse your lips, trying to ignore the prying looks you're receiving from over half of the campus. "Because..." you're dragging your words out, unsure of how to tell her that to everyone else's eyes, she's a goddess.

And you're just you.

"Spit it out," she says in that firm tone that used to scare you as she crossed her arms. "Are you seeing other bitches in campus? Too embarrassed to be seen with me?"

"No, Sana!" you cry out, reaching for her arm. "That's the thing, this place has not seen me get a girl even if my life was on the line and now suddenly, you, you out of all people, are all over me."

"What?" her head is tilted and she looks so cute and you just wanna kiss that frown off her face.

Your frustration gets to the best of you. "I'm a loser who has not had a girlfriend since I stepped foot into this place - and literally, just literally, look at me."

She lets out a lopsided smile, ignoring half of what you just told her. "My gorgeous baby. You look amazing today - might need a haircut though. Your hair's looking a little too scruffy, yeah?"

"Yeah," you sheepishly say, getting distracted by how she can still look good in baggy blue denim jeans and a white baby tee. "I like my hair messy though."

She stands silent for a second, narrowing her eyes at you as she trails her fingers up and down your arm. "I bet you like that everyone swoons over it when it falls down your face."

"Yeah, bold of you to assume that people notice when my hair grows an inch longer - just like when they notice yours," you can't help but roll your eyes.

One thing you learned about Sana is that she's always jealous about the invisible girls that are crazy over you. To her, you have hoes, which comes off as a compliment but it's baffling to try and understand how she doesn't see that you have zero game. And you only pulled her by luck that summer night.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” she stares at you lovingly, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear. “Wanna walk me to my next class?“

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the summer that changed everything

The summer before your senior year was something else. It was hot, sticky and sweltering - the streets during daytime were almost empty as the city tucked themselves into the safety of their homes.

Today was no different. The sun was beginning to set and it offered no relief, remnants of the heat still hanging heavy in the air. You were walking along an empty street in your neighbourhood, skateboard in one hand and a Camus book on the other (you were trying to be mysterious, the park today had no one else but you and this guy from your active matter class).

From afar, you could see a sleek, shiny black car (a bit unusual for the place) in the middle of the road ahead of you and next to it was a girl in a white sundress as she paced around the area. She saw you approaching her and she couldn't wait any second longer - you were walking so slow and she just had to run towards you, heels clicking against the pavement.

You tightened your grip on your deck, prepared to deal with one of the many crackheads along this street. You've done it before and it wouldn't hurt to do it again.

When she was close enough to be perfectly seen by you, your knees began to melt and your head was screaming to run, but you stood frozen. It was Minatozaki Sana; head cheerleader and queen bee and she had bows in her hair and it was wavy and she looked sweaty and -

"Y/N!" she panted, seeming relieved at the sight of your familiar face. Your name rolled her tongue off like you could get used to it. "It's Y/N, right? We had the same classes last year."

Not really, you only had two lectures with her. Of course she wouldn't remember that though.

"Yeah, are you okay?" you asked in a worried tone despite the fluttering in your chest.

There was frustration etched on her face, something that you noticed she does whenever things don't go under her plans. "No, my car stalled and my phone's dead so I can't call for help. I'm supposed to be at a dinner party with my family!"

"I'd offer to help but believe it or not, I genuinely know nothing about cars. I'm like if a lesbian was useless,” you bit your tongue, regretting your existence already.

"You're gay?"

"Um, yeah," you cleared your throat, grabbing your cracked phone out of your pocket. "But here; maybe call a mechanic then an Uber?"

Her stare lingered, a tint of curiosity now plastered on her face. Her eyes travelled towards the skateboard and book on your head, then your tattoos before it finally landed on your phone. She took it without saying anything else.

You looked around, trying not to pry into her conversation with who you assumed was her mum. "Yeah, I'm bringing a friend, by the way. Just let everyone else know I'm not coming alone..."

Sana was too beautiful with her rosy cheeks and flawlessly sculpted lips. You could tell the goods took their time with her and instead of becoming the subject of art, she became the embodiment of it instead. Here you were, struck by her beauty once more and there was nothing you could do but watch as if she were something from a museum.

She could be mean at times, she had a status to protect after all, but it looked good on her. You were used to the taunting and sharp remarks from her friends despite her always telling them off - always trying to defend you for whatever reason.

"Let's go?" she tapped your shoulder, a grin on her face, and you just knew she was up to no good. "My driver's coming in ten minutes, we have to go to dinner with my family. Let's wait in my car."

"We what?" your eyes widened, smile faltering as you immediately transformed into a nervous wreck. "What? I can't, I have work in half an hour."

"You work at my cousin's record store, you'll be fine, he's going to be there."

"How do you know that?" you nearly shat yourself there, but you couldn't tell her that. Her eyes were striking and you didn't have the balls (literally) to say no so you allowed her to drag you around.

She reached out for your arm, her warm fingers wrapping around your skin to lead you into her car. “I have my sources.”

“I’m not even dressed for the occasion!”

“Just trust me, Y/N,” she replied, smiling.

And you did, because it was Sana, but her family would cook the shit out of the five dollars in your wallet as you stood in awe at the sight in front of you. You had always known that the Minatozaki's stood in a different tax bracket compared to everyone else - but you didn't expect Sana to live in an actual castle an hour away from the outskirts of the city.

Expensive black cars surrounded the sprawling gardens, they had people in front of the towering columns serving champagne glasses.

“Sana, I think I’m gonna shit myself.”

Over the next few days, Sana clung to you like you were the light of her life. Her family loved you instantly - and you were always welcomed back home. She would be at the record store while you were on shift, insisting to do a bit of manual labour because apparently, she had never lifted a box in her life.

You two spent hours sitting in the quiet corner of the shop - showing her all kinds of music that you assumed she wouldn’t be into. She would bring you lunch in her expensive heels (she eventually learned that sneakers were a must during working hours). Some days, she would sit at the skate park just watching you in your zone.

To you, she was Sana, but the feelings you harboured seemed to grow deeper and harder to keep. Like you could burst any moment.

During that night, your parents had just spent the entire night making their signature dishes for Sana. Coincidentally, their old restaurant was the one her dad had always taken her out to when she was younger.

You were unaware of the fact that it was the place she saw you for the first time in her life and just knew.

You drew the bottle of beer closer your lips, taking a big sip as you rocked back and forth on your seat. “Sorry about that - my parents are passionate about cooking.”

She chuckled. “How come they closed the restaurant?”

“Just financial issues, you know?” you answered truthfully, heart swelling with affection for her. “Dad got really sick one winter and with no one else to help mum, they decided to end that chapter.”

“Is he okay now?”

“Yeah, he is kicking life, just gets mad when he remembers that he has to look after himself.”

The air was much cooler now, leaves rustling as the wind carried a faint scent of the flowers in your mum’s garden. The sky was dotted with stars and the moonlight reflected against Sana’s hair - making her glow. You couldn’t take your eyes off her.

“So,” her voice was soft, the way she looked at you was filled with sincerity. “Last year of college, huh? What’s next for you, miss architect?”

You always knew what was ahead of you, but for some reason, sitting with Sana under the moonlight and her looking so beautiful, you felt scared to tell her. “Um, I think I’m heading overseas.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” she said, the disappointment visible in her eyes even though she tried to look excited for you. “Why?”

“My uncle said I could make better money working for his place, you know, with the currency difference and all that,” you cleared your throat, putting the bottle on the floor. “It’ll just be good for my family, and there’s really nothing in store for me here. I think if I disappeared today the city wouldn’t even notice.”

Your attempt at trying to lighten the mood just made her scowl deeper. “But I’m here and I would notice your absence.”

“If it weren’t for us getting to know each other this summer, I genuinely think you wouldn’t.”

It was true, you always lived a completely different life from Sana. Even though she was nice compared to how her friends treated you, there was still a huge wall between you. As soon as summer would be over, you know she’s retreating back to her side of the wall and away from you, and you’ll be watching her from the sidelines again.

She was quiet, eyes studying you carefully from the side. She didn’t like that you were kind to everyone but yourself. In her eyes, you were the most beautiful person to ever exist - she wanted you to see that you meant so much to her.

And without really thinking, she pulled your face and leaned in to kiss you. It was soft and tentative, and all too familiar, like coming home after a long day’s work knowing that the comfort of a kiss waits for you.

You held her closer, hands roaming down her back as her fingers danced in your hair. It was years worth of built up unspoken feelings and desire. When you finally pulled away, you were breathless as she leaned her forehead against yours. “Sana, I’m sorry -“

She kissed you again. “I’ve waited for this for so long,” her breath came in shallow. “You took your time.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It’s only midday and you feel like it’s been going on for too long. You start rambling to Sana (who’s feeding you her strawberries) about the way Professor Song spoke to you in class, making you sound like your theory is stupid. "And he goes - my question is not opinion-based Y/N, you should know better, blah blah blah," you mimic his voice, failing to notice Sana's stone-cold look.

"What does Yunjin mean to you?"

The question catches you off guard for a second, the answer running through your head at a quickened pace. "What makes you ask that?" You internally recoil because you should've just given her a straight answer.

"Why is your ex-girlfriend constantly clinging onto you in the same way I do?"

"We never even dated!" your tone is defensive, voice a pitch higher. "We kissed once at one of Miyeon's parties during our first year - you were even there...with Jungkook at the time."

"That's not the point," she clenches her jaw, eyebrows creased and you know she's angry when she doesn't even smile at the dog that just strutted past you two. "I saw her playing with your hair and hugging you, and you let her. You wouldn't even let me do that with you in public.”

"That's how she is with everyone!"

"You should not be a part of her everyone list," she said sharply, intertwining her fingers with yours. "I swear if she -"

You place a hand on her nape, gently pulling her closer so your lips could meet. "Don't worry, okay? As soon as you meet her, she'll cling to you in no time."

She licks her lips, tasting the lip balm she bought you. "You're wearing the Glossier one?"

"Yup," you say, leaning your head on her shoulder. "You caught me at a bad time when you kissed me this morning and it was embarrassing - I had dry ass lips!"

"My favourite," she giggles, making you push her to the side. "Why did you think we weren't dating?"

"You never asked me," you told her, curiosity piquing when she moves in front of you and kneels down. “I just sort of assumed you wouldn’t even acknowledge me on campus - what exactly are you doing right now?”

“Really?” she rolls her eyes at you. “I don’t sleep around. You really think you could get away with giving me forehead kisses in the morning without becoming my girlfriend?”

“Well, don’t people do that?”

“Do you wanna be my girlfriend?” she holds your hand with adoration written all over her eyes. “Let me call you mine, always.”

You bite your lip at her cheekiness, not knowing Sana could show a playful side around everyone. “Then you’re going to have to officially meet my friends when the day is over because they always said I could never get one.”

“Am I your girlfriend now?”

“Sana, you’ve always been my girlfriend in my head.”

[satorusugurugurl]

The Headboard

Summary: when you find yourself in a compromising position, you’re lucky that you’re a hot neighbor who just so happens to be a firefighter, is just next door.

Pairing: firefighter!Toji Fushigurux AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 2,935

Warning: Language, smut, p-in-v, mentions of sex toys, degradation, name calling, unprotected smut.

A/N: A genuine fear I had often thought about when people tell me this is what they do. Plus, the DILF vibes were strong today.

Fushiguro Toji had no complaints about having you as a neighbor. You’re kind and quiet; you even watched Megumi for him if he needed a sitter. You would invite him and his son to your apartment for dinner, or he would do the same for you. The whole of being neighbors became friendship, and friendship turned into longing. Toji hated it when you would bring home someone who wasn’t good enough for you. He would spoil you rotten but didn’t want to ruin your friendship.

Nothing would be worse than an interaction after an awkward one-night stand that ended with you both not talking to each other because he would be the first to admit that he liked having you over for dinner. He enjoyed it when you came over with cookies or watched a movie with him and his son. If things were to become awkward or standoffish with you, that might be one of the worst things to happen to them in a very long time.

So, he would wait a bit to see how things would progress with you. Maybe once the lingering glances and the accidental brushes of your hands would turn into a little bit more. Perhaps once he better understood you and how you might feel, consider telling you he wanted to be more than friends.

Those thoughts ran through his mind as he sprawled out on his couch, not paying any attention to the movie on the television. Megumi was at a sleepover with his best friend Yuuji. He was all alone, not being stuck at the firehouse on call, filling his quiet evening with boredom.

Maybe he should call and ask if you want to come over; you could both watch a movie to make the most of a boring night. Just as he reached for his phone to call you, your name and profile picture popped up on his phone. Toji answered the phone with a slight grin, holding it against his ear.

“Hey, I was just about to call you. Do you wanna come—”

“Toji, you’re a firefighter, right?”

Your voice sounded breathless, almost with a hint of timidness. “Yeah, you know that. Why did you start a grease fire next door? Do not try to put it out with water; smother it with some flour.” You laughed only to be cut off with a whine.

“Uhm, uh—no, not that.” you sighed, “Y-you've seen some weird stuff, right? Like helped people?”

“Yeah, despite the title firefighter, I’m also medically trained and have helped many people in different scenarios. Why, what happened?”

The silence for a long moment told you to think that maybe, just maybe, the line disconnected before he heard him wince. “I-I need your help. But you have to promise you’ll never tell a soul about this.” A mixture of different emotions currently course through every nerve of his body. He’s concerned that you’re hurt, and his interest is peaked as to what you got yourself into this time.

“Of course, you have my word. I promise I won't say anything.”

“Good,” cloth rustles in the background, “you can come over right now. You still have my spare key. You still have my spare key.”

“Yeah, you gave it to me to water your plants that always die.”

“I don't have a green thumb sue me! Now please grab your medical bag and get your ass over here!”

The tone of your voice had him getting off the couch in a snap.” Alright, be there in a sec.” without you even having to ask, Toji grabbed his medical bag and your spare key.

You're nowhere to be found when he steps inside your apartment. “Hey?” He calls out, smirking slightly. “Fire department.” A squeak resonates from the bedroom.

“In here!” you call out, voice shaky, “b-but before you come in, I will emphasize that if you tell anyone! And I mean anyone about this, I will rip your balls off and shove them down your throat!”

Toji almost tells you not to threaten him with a good time, but he knows you from the whine that leaves the room. You were obviously in pain, and we’re taking this very seriously. Instead of making lighthearted jokes and conversation to push your buttons, he put on the best professional face before entering your room. The second he looks at your bed, his jaw drops to the floor in shock.

You’re naked from the waist down, your body bent forward, your ass pressed against the headboard. Your knee must’ve gotten stuck between the headboard and your mattress from how you're bent. Making it impossible for you to move in the predicament you found yourself in. Your cheeks are flushed as you averted your gaze, not daring to look at him. Toji was a smart guy; he was able to put two and two together.

Someone was having some alone time, and things had taken a terrible turn.

“What happened?” Toji clears his throat as he trots forward, opens his medical bag, and slips on some black latex-free gloves.

You want to crawl under your bed and cry out in embarrassment. How could you have put yourself in such an embarrassing situation? It was bad enough that you had gotten yourself stuck, and it was ten times worse now that the man you’ve had a crush on since you moved into the building was here helping you! But you would rather him find out what a size queen you were than call the fire department.

“I uhm, the uh—” you motion back to your headboard where your thrusting toy was stuck to your headboard. “It hit—my cervix hard, and I jumped, and my knee slipped between my mattress and my headboard.”

“Huh—okay, just try to relax a bit. I will look into getting that knee out first.” He gets on the bed behind you before gently grabbing your knee. As he does, the movement causes you to slide further down the toy, causing it to hit your cervix for a second time. The sharp, pleasurable pain can be felt from the tips of your toes to your head as you let out a pained moan. “Sorry.” Toji’s voice sounds more profound and more fierce. That you had never heard before; it was a voice that made every nerve in your body slowly awaken with lust.

“I-It’s okay—”

He gently moves your leg again, freeing it slightly. “So,” he goes with the questions when you were sure he was going to ask, “your boyfriend busy or something?” His question held no humor to it; instead, it was pure curiosity, and his voice made the nerves that reignited tingle with anticipation.

“What boyfriend? Who said I had a boyfriend?”

Toji glances at the curve of your ass, admiring the arch of your back, before he goes back to gently moving your leg. “Oh, I just assumed a pretty thing like you had one.” His hand gently grumps your ass as he maneuvers your leg a little bit more to the left, freeing it another inch.

“Do you honestly think if I had a boyfriend, I would’ve stuck a dildo to my headboard?”

“Hey, to each their own. So, no boyfriend?”

“Yep, single and ready to mingle. I let my friend convince me to try this position. She said it would liven up my solo sessions.” For as long as you can remember, the only way you masturbated was on your back. When you had mentioned this to your friends, they had been mortified, telling you there was more than one way to get yourself off. You so stupidly let them talk you into buying this stupid, expensive dildo and decided to give it a shot. That shot ended up with your knee stuck between your mattress and the wall and having to rely on your neighbor to help you.

“Hm,” Toji gave your ass a firm squeeze before gently pushing you forward off the toy a couple of inches, drawing out the sweetest sounds from your throat. “Would now be an inappropriate time to ask you out?”

A choked sound of shock cut off the moan that had begun to rise in your throat. There was no way he had just asked you out on a date—your hot neighbor. The sexy firefighter next door asked you on a date. Was this a prank? Oh god, why did he have to ask you out now, of all times? Despite the searing embarrassment, you can’t help but giggle, turning to look back at the massive man.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, I think you’re hot and good with my kid; plus, I can make you feel so much better than this stupid toy.”

Heat began to pool in your abdomen as you continued to watch him carefully. “Oh, is that so?” he pulls his hand away from the fat of your ass, only to bring it back down, slapping it, making you help in pleasure and surprise.

“It's a fucking promise.” The tip of his pink tongue runs over the scar on his lip. “So, dinner?”

You laugh breathlessly, throwing your head back as he massages the sting out of your ass. “Would you be opposed to me counteroffering that?” Toji hand on your leg gently moves another inch, freeing you from the abyss you had been stuck in.

“Well, that depends on what your counteroffer is?”

The muscles in your leg burn with relief as you stretch it out, getting the blood flowing to it. Toji watches with dark eyes as you slowly in yourself off of the 9-inch toy that’s coated in your slick arousal. The sight of the coral-colored silicone covered in your wetness has his throat so dry it hurts.

“My counteroffer is that we skip the first date, and you help me with my current problem. You are a firefighter. It’s your job to help people.”

“Oooh, are you asking me to fuck you right now?”

“Maybe~ if I were to ask you to do just that, what would you say?” When you turn your head to look at him, your face is quickly snatched in his hands. His hand grips your chin tightly towards his mouth.

“I would say it’s about fucking time.”

His lips slam against yours in a symphony of desperation and need. He quickly shifts behind you, pushing you towards the center of the bed and away from the cavern you had found yourself trapped in moments before. The entire time he moves you, his lips never leave yours. It’s a messy open-mouth kiss, with tongue and groping hands as he releases his grip on your face, panting heavily as a string of saliva connects your lips.

“Do you know how hard it’s been trying to control myself? I try so hard to be a good, friendly neighbor. One that doesn’t come off as a creep.” he positions himself behind you down his gray sweatpants, spraying his thick fat cock. “Let me tell you, it’s been fucking hard; you are so goddamn fucking beautiful. Smart, funny, a great cook.”

You grip the sheets underneath you as he continues his confession. He told you how much he admired your strength and beauty. The pure admiration and raw need that’s in his voice makes your pussy clench, your arousal seeping out of your twitching hole. God, you knew you liked him, but knowing he was so damn bad for you, made you want him even more.

“I need you to fuck me.” There’s no doubt in your words that's precisely what you wanted. The word ‘want’ isn’t even included in your sentence! You didn't like this, and you needed it on a physical level.

“Yeah~? Need me to fuck that tight slutty hole?” His hands connect with your ass again, so smacking it hard, leaving a faint hand print in its wake. “Is that what you need, baby~?”

“Yes!” you shake your ass in front of him, dropping down low, revealing your wet hole to him as if trying to convince him to hurry the fuck up.

“Mhmm, that's a good little slut; tell me exactly what she wants; no, wait, I’m sorry, what she needs.” he grabs his thick cock in one hand. Toji held his cock, smacking it over your pussy. “And she claims that she needs my cock.”

You rock your hips back, fingers digging into the sheets as your chest heaves in anticipation of being filled to the brim by human flesh and not cold silicon. “Yes, please.” Toji tsks behind you giving your pussy, another sharp slap with his cock, the tip snagging at your entrance before he rubs it over your clit.

“Nah, I think you could do better than that. Try again to tell me what it is that you want.”

“I need you!” you cry out loud this time, shutting your eyes and anticipation of him thrusting inside of you, just feeling the head of his cock snag over your clit for the second time. “Please, Toji! Please, please, please.”

Grabbing the base of his thick, heavy cock, he gently presses it over your entrance over your slick hole. “Please, what baby girl~? Use your words, big like pretty little slut you are.” this was an absolute tort. Having your kit in your pussy, teased with nothing but finger-like touches, have you jerking and writhing against the bed.

“Please fuck me, Toji!” you screamed, not having to worry about your next-door neighbor complaining about the noise.

“That's a good girl.” Toji slapped your ass with a snarl, gripping the skin and spreading your cheeks. “I always knew you were a good girl. Always so sweet and friendly, the perfect innocent neighbor next door. but who would’ve thought that you would be fucking a toy against your headboard.” He spits his words before suddenly burying his cock fully into you.

You screamed out loud as his cocked stretched you like you'd never been stretched red d before, sending your eyes rolling back. "Nnngh~! Mmph~ Toji!"

“Fuck-Ngh.” Toji moaned, feeling your walls convulse around him. "You feel so good, baby. Fuck—baby, baby! Shit—being inside of you was so worth the wait!”

“Oooh fuck~!” Toji’s hands press into the middle of your back, pushing your shoulders down further into the mattress, allowing your back to be pushed down, beautifully showing the curves of your body for him. “Just like that, Toji, fuck, don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

“Oh, I’m not stopping until you’re crying. Your in need a good dicking down since you weren’t able to finish, I’m assuming.”

“Y-Yes!” You cry out, gripping the sheets tighter as you rock your hips back into his. “Yes, I want to cum so bad~!”

“Oh, I know you do, baby,” Toji smirked as he pushed you by your shoulders down into the bed, thrusting deep and hard.

His cock continues to hit your g-spot and your cervix, but his warm hot tip is nothing compared to the silicone. You had been using it earlier. So your eyes roll back. "Oh fuck! ~!" At this rate, you weren't going to last very long.

“Hoooly fuck.” Toji moaned, feeling your walls flutter around him as your legs started to tremble. "Fuck-Ngh. You’re about to cum. Fuck—baby, baby! Shit--I’m going to fucking fill you up. Is that okay?” he didn’t give you much time to answer as he angled his hips, thrusting precisely against that sponge spot inside of you. The one that had you seeing stars as your orgasm hit you like a freight train.

You whimpered loudly, turning to desperately kiss Toji as you squirted all over cock. "Ah~! Nnngh!!" your eyes rolled back as your body convulsed with the waves of your orgasm.

"Fuck! Fuckfuck—M’ cumming, I—Ahhh ahah—nngh!" Toji doubled over, his forehead pressing into your back as he kept cumming, releasing the months of pent-up desire into you.

He collapsed on top of you quickly, putting his arms out on either side of your smaller frame, bracing his weight upon them in an attempt not to crush you. You painted happily, grinning as you turned your head to stare up at the flushed, sweat-coated man who had fucked you thoroughly. He smirked, his scar stretching as his lips curled up.

His smirk, however, is short-lived as you push back against him, causing him to slip out of you as his back lands against your mattress. As he blankly waters, it allows you to straddle his hips, dribble, drop combined cum, and rub all over his dick as you so lewdly rub your pussy up and down on him. “I hope you have more where that came from because I’m far from being done with you, sir.”

“Hey,” he smirked, putting both his hands behind his head as he watched your position, his cock at your entrance. “Im a firefighter have pretty good fucking stamina. Let’s see what you got.” Little did he know you were a fire that could not so easily be put out. Not that he was complaining.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3

[paegei]

MIRROR SEX

seventeen members opinions on mirror sex

seungcheol:

BIG BIG advocator for mirror sex, especially when he wants to be a little mean that night :( making eye contact through the mirror is so hot to him, watching your face as he overwhelms you with pleasure. seeing the two of you lose your senses from the desire turns him on more than he will ever admit.

jeonghan:

this man FEEDS off your pleasure. everytime he teases you (*cough* 24/7 *cough*), it's in front of the mirror. lives off seeing your frustration / tears when he edges you for the nth time that night.

joshua:

unlike the other 95 liners who mainly use the mirror during rougher sessions, joshua prefers to use the mirror during sweeter, softer times. loves watching you ride him through the mirror, while kissing up your neck, mumbling about how you're "so good to me".

jun:

if you think jun is not a fan of mirror sex, do you really know jun ? one word. TITS. seeing boobs is essential to your sex life. watching your tits bounce while you ride him is his favourite pastime. add onto that being able to see your ass ? he's in heaven.

soonyoung:

i think the other members prefer a mirror facing the bed, but hoshi ? he gives me the vibes of someone who has a ceiling mirror. i feel like he'd rather you look into the mirror while he's fucking you in missionary, gaining pleasure from knowing you're watching him dick you down. he knows how crazy you go for his back, and he would do anything to please you.

wonwoo:

with wonwoo, i feel as though a mirror is used ONLY DURING PUNISHMENTS. if you’ve been a brat, wonwoo will sit you in front of the mirror while he either overstimulates you to tears, or while he watches you cockwarm him, squirming around, trying to feel any kind of friction. watching you go crazy from his lack of movement, as well as feeling you pulse around him drives him crazy.

jihoon:

woozi is the first member who i think is unbothered. if you want to have sex in front of the mirror, he’s chill with that, but i feel as though he doesn’t have any thoughts abt it, doesn't go out of his way to have mirror sex. he prefers looking at you face to face rather than through a mirror. he does however enjoy fucking you over counters, which means the bathroom mirror has seen it's fair share of action.

minghao:

like wonwoo, mirrors are only used when he’s punishing you. he loves tying you up facing the mirror, while he eats you out, forcing you to watch but not touch. for sure plays with your nipples & watches you squirm from the roughness of his hands.

mingyu:

mingyu prefers a mirror being used during foreplay. either watching you suck him off in the mirror, or sucking on your neck while playing with your tits. it's more used as a way to see the two of you rile each other off before the real deal. the second he’s ready for more, onto the bed you go.

seokmin:

sex with dokyeom is spontaneous. the second the two of you are in the mood, you jump each others bones. i feel as though a mirror isn’t really incorporated into the bedroom. he just gets so horny for you he'd throw you onto the bed and have his way with you. the only time i can see a mirror being used is when he’s fucking you over the bathroom counter, or when you guys are feeling particularly loving that night.

seungkwan:

like josh, the mirror is used during softer moments. if you are struggling with body issues, kwan will sit you in front of the mirror, pleasure you, and whisper how beautiful you are in your ear. he just wants you to see yourself as he sees you :( same story for when he is feeling down in the dumps, body worship all night long.

vernon:

vernon strikes me as a dude who would like mirror sex in theory, but honestly he gets too horny and just wants to fuck the living daylights out of you. unless you’re bent over a counter, i don’t see him going out of his way to place you in front of one. when he's in the mood, his brain goes into caveman mode and he just has to take you then and there.

chan:

yes. yes yes yes. chan LOVES watching your face in the mirror. his favourite thing to do in the bedroom is have you face down ass up in front of the mirror. admires how he looks when you’re squeezing him so tight too. massive ego boost to watch your blissed out face as he makes you cum.

not proof-read ! lmk if there's any mistakes (づ￣ 3￣)づ

[punkpandapatrixk]

🧜🏻‍♀️What’s Your Signature Style? ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card

I promise you that you can be “THE” SLAYEST when you rock a style that is your own. A style—or styles—that is your own is one that reflects outwardly the core essence of your Soul Expression.

If you know yourself, and acknowledge your unique Light, there is not a trend or fad in this mortal realm that could ever shake your confidence in what you’re already doing!

Remember, trend-makers are never individuals known to follow trends to begin with! Are you a satisfied with yourself for being a trend-follower? Gosh, that's such loser NPC behaviour. I know you're so much more than that, you su-su-su-Superbeing❣️❣️

SONG: Supernova by aespa

MOVIE: 千年女優; Sennen Joyuu (Millennium Actress) (2001)

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 2] [Part 3]

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☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – Bitch Barbie

VIBE: Jackie (2016)

core spiritual essence – Knight of Wands Rx

YOLO, Spiritual Gangsta! You’re a badass bitch who’s actually a lot nastier and vainer than outer appearances may give LMAO You’re such a drama queen, too. You wake up in the morning and ready to stir up some shit. You’re naughty. You’re playful. You’re creative and a bit of a prankster to the detriment of some of your closest friends. And if you have an enemy, you’re the type that’d pour gasoline on their motorbike and let them catch fire on their own!

You really like colourful stuff. Since you were a kid, you’ve always been interested in cute or weird shapes and bling knickknacks. Colours and shapes are integral to your fashion expression as a means to let your passion through. From another angle, this is also how you show people not to take you lightly. You’re attracted to weird or bold shapes and vibrant colours because they also send word to the outer world that you’re not one to mess with.

You LOVE being seen as a weirdo. It benefits you to be seen as a BITCH, too. This is a form of self-preservation AND protection. You want to weed off boring people who are only there to feed off your precious spiritual creative aenergy! You’re the school’s boss bitch who says, ‘You can’t sit with us,’ to practically everybody because you value only strong and weird, high-quality bitches who are just like you. Deep at your core, you keep to your tribe and will protect them with your Life <3

people’s first impression – XIV Temperance

You’re an enigmatic character who’s admired and feared at the same time. Because you have such a strong presence, unbeatable charisma, people can’t help but be attracted to your aenergy. And for the most part, you’re really somebody who has a pleasant smile and good manners. People’s first projection of you might be along the lines of being a good gal LMAO You seem at first glace a temperate person who adheres to social protocols. I mean, that’s only because you’re chill~

But try and get on your bad side? The psychopath takes over. You’re very serious when working towards your goals and you don’t like it when people bother you with unwarranted criticisms or unsolicited advice. You like figuring things out yourself unless you ask for other people’s opinions. When people see this side of you, then they understand you’re not all that friendly or welcoming and that they’ve been blinded by their own expectations.

From afar, people can tell you’re meant for great things in this Life. Since you’re quite unapproachable to many, they may never say this to you but they gossip amongst themselves and speculate about what such a unique person like you could achieve in this world. They shudder when thinking about all your potentials! How can such a smart badass even be real?? It feels so unfair…

fatal attraction! – Ace of Pentacles

You’re the type that should never buy fake designer items. Buying cheap-ass things that are your style is one thing, but buying fake luxury items? NAH, NO. Your Venus will cry. Check out what your Venus sign says about your values as a person and try to match your fashion style with that. For the majority of you tuning into this Pile, being bold in all the ways that suit you is the way to go. Price is not necessarily key here, it’s boldness that plays into your self-expression.

You’re the kind of person who can wear colours and accessories that usually will make other people look like clowns XD People wonder what enables you to pull off those strange colours, shapes or combinations, not knowing it’s your CONFIDENCE in yourself being able to pull them off that makes them work. It’s the RIZZ, baby~ No matter what you look like, no matter your size and skin colour, you have the power to make WHATEVER you wear on you look like something they show on the runway.

I betcha you get a lot of requests to model for your photographer friends? XD Some of you reading this have even modelled casually before. And some of you are meant to be scouted into the modelling or fashion industry in general! If not to that degree, you’re still the kind of person who could make occasional appearances on fashion magz or insta or have your face be a poster for something quite creative. You should charge good prices for your contribution to people being able to sell their shit! v$o$v

A MILLION DOLLAR STYLE~🔻💙

vanity – Silver Geographer (Francis Drake)

sassy – Priestess of Integrity

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☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – Brooding Maniac

VIBE: The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (2011)

core spiritual essence – 4 of Cups

You one spooky bitch XD But truly, your Soul is full of colours if only people could see it! It’s just that these are colours most people won’t understand or even approve of. You possess the ability to feel and process immensely complex emotions as well as thoughts. It’s more like you think in feelings even if you identify as someone very logical. Your emotions often get heavy if you don’t learn to control them. And…you’ve really taken it to quite an extreme how well you can control or suppress your emotions now.

Some of you reading this probably have strong Earth placements, especially Capricorn, but could also have some Scorpio and Aquarius influences. The way you feel your emotions is quiet and almost…jaded. I think your Soul gets easily tired by Humans for their lack of intelligence but also for their lack of appreciation for different varieties of Beauty. You think most people are narrow-minded; just thinking about it is super exhausting.

That’s why you don’t easily show your colours to everybody. People’s disapproval of the depths of your emotions could kill your spirit on a daily basis. You’d rather not deal with that, so then you chose to sport a lot of black in your outer appearance. You could also be the type that chooses solid or ‘dull’ colours like grey or white, essentially to just…not tell people anything. The only other way you actually show your emotions, in a subtle way, is through some colours that could be found in your accessories and…HAIR <3

At least some of you dream of having colourful hair if only your society or workplace would allow that XD

people’s first impression – 8 of Cups

Instantaneously, people get this impression that you’re elusive as fuck. Like, you’re not exactly unapproachable—no, no—it’s more like, even if people try to talk to you, they already think you’re the type that won’t respond too well. You seem like you don’t talk much if at all, and people get this feeling that you’re uncomfortable with being talked to. Kinda feels like, you’re ready to flee the scene the moment someone comes up to talk to you BUHAHAH Most likely because you give off this nervous/awkward energy in social situations XD

As for your fashion, you dress so uniquely, out-there-ly, alien-ly, and people simply can’t catch up. They know they won’t be able to copy you, at least not properly. You possess a strong and unique aura that shines through your fashion sensibility and you don’t even try that hard if you’re being honest. And yet, anybody who tries to emulate or copy you will 100% look like a cheap knock-off of whatever style you’re rocking.

There is something about you that screams ORIGINAL. And yet, this is mostly caused by your lack of interest in other people’s business. You have this cold, detached aura that makes you stand out in a crowd exactly because you don’t give a fuck. At first glance, people think it’s your fashion—your clothes and accessories, your hair or nails that make you look ORIGINAL. Maybe even you think that. But no, it’s your brooding AURA that says so. You’re a maniac who ain’t interested in mingling, that’s why~

fatal attraction! – Queen of Wands

You’re a divisive character who’s either despised or admired, to an extreme. There’s no in between. Seems, indeed, like some Scorpio/8th House aenergy or some harsh Plutonian aspects XD To varying extents, and depending on your mood on a given day, people’s extreme reception of you could be mentally draining. The way I see it, you yourself don’t even understand why people are damn drawn to you. You kinda wish people would leave you alone. At least the ones you don’t care about.

But…you definitely are incredibly pretty. You have a very attractive face, you know that? And then there’s your fashion sense that tells the right kind of people that you truly are a creative/artistic person who has many stories to tell because you feel very deeply. And yet, you don’t talk to people at all and that’s mystifying. Meanwhile, the haters are also attracted to your aenergy because something about your originality is a direct insult to their lack of AUTHENTICITY ho ho ho~

You give people a reason to connect and unite in their petty hatred and that’s very refreshing for those types of people to talk about LMAO Ain’t you a hero, my dear? Anyway, this may sound so random but I’m getting that you might wanna hang out at some art gallery or library? You could meet someone or see an ad/announcement for an event that could change your Life for the better! Your brooding style could get you some unique opportunities that could potentially make you very happy <3

A MILLION DOLLAR STYLE~🔻🧡

vanity – Silver Alchemist (Ramon Llull)

sassy – Priestess of Inspiration

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☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – Plutonian Siren

VIBE: Flesh and the Devil (1926)

core spiritual essence – 8 of Pentacles

Daym, you’re a total hustler babe, aren’t ya? For one, at the core of your being you know that you were born into this world with a strong purpose. When you were a kid, you probably didn’t have the words to describe this knowing but it was clear to you that you weren’t supposed to fit in or be ‘normal’, whatever ‘normal’ meant within your norm XD You’ve always been the kinda person who deviated from your mainstream society. You couldn’t help it; you just had to be an anomaly.

Truth be told, you’ve a strong Sirenian spirit (if that’s even a word). You’re like a combination of a bitch barbie and a brooding maniac. You’ve a strong dark Plutonian and chaotic Neptunian aenergy about you and this is SCARY to a lot of people. If you grew up in a toxic household, I betcha an adult in your ‘family’ despised you for just being you. Could be a mean uncle or auntie as well if you had a good relationship with your own parents ;P

Did you know that in some literature Sirens were actually not mermaids? They’re more akin to evil harpies? XXD You’re an evil harpy at your worst and a singing mermaid at your best. I tell you people shouldn’t mess witcha. The karma will be heavy on them because you essentially come from a strong lineage of powerful witches! <3

people’s first impression – 9 of Cups

Wherever you are in the world, when you walk, you’re like a dream come true. You possess a natural charm that transcends race, culture, localised standards or whatever. In every situation and all nations you are beautiful, magnetising and charming. Your sheer existence makes people daydream. I’m sure you’ve heard this a lot, ‘You smell really nice.’ ‘Y/N always smells nice.’ ‘When you’re around it always smells nice.’

You’re so fucking unreal for this mortal world. Due to your Neptunian aenergy—could also be strong/significant 12th House placements—people project on you without a care for your feelings. Or should we say, they project on you without a care for their own safety? When somebody crosses the line, you snap like a sea dragon and they’re done, forever LMAO

As much as people are intrigued by you they are afraid of you. There is this depth to you that makes people suspect that once they’re in they’re never gonna be able to crawl out of your aenergy field. You’re kinda like Tomie now that I think about it. So the ones who are able to sense this swirling darkness in you will try to steer away from your charm~ Good for them because most of the time, you don’t even like it when people are up in your ass non-stop XD

fatal attraction! – 5 of Pentacles Rx

Of all the Piles, your natural charm is definitely chaotic. It’s almost demonic! Yours is a fatal attraction for sure because you will cause insanity in the minds of whoever tries to get a taste of your aenergy. And you’re out here chillin’, completely clueless as to what’s going on with the idiots around you. Why’s everybody simping? I ain’t even do nothing.

For whatever personal reasons, most people have this fantasy about you saving them from whatever boring Life they’re living. Some really sick minds could expect—even demand—you to be their stupid little Pixie Dream Girl when in reality you’re the FURTHEST thing from that. People could get SO dangerously unreasonable when it comes to desiring you.

I’ve got to say that you’d better protect yourself good, girl. Do everything in your power to steer away from bitter and jealous aenergy, because the people under your involuntary spell might indeed endeavour to cause you harm. Beware of men who could assault you and women who would trick and tarnish your reputation. I’m reminded of this quote by Claude Debussy:

‘People don’t very much like things that are beautiful… they are so far from their nasty little minds.’

For being such an unrealistically beautiful creature with an aura of mysticism, lots of people are attracted to your magnificence because they want to make it their own or destroy it, not because they appreciate your existence. Be selective with who you allow to get to know you~ <3

A MILLION DOLLAR STYLE~🔻💚

vanity – Green Astrologer (Robert Fludd)

sassy – Priestess of Love

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 2] [Part 3]

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[uravitypng]

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝'𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡

pairing: denki kaminari x reader

word count: 4.8k words

a/n: i'm so glad i finished this and i hope you all like this because i loved writing this. denki's girlfriend is possibly one of the worst people ever...

content warnings: cheating(denki cheats on his girlfriend with reader), praise, unprotected sex, creamie/coming inside, body worship, denki's girlfriend is the absolute worst, multiple orgasms, pining, reader has some self esteem issues and self doubts but denki shows her how perfect she is, oral(f!recieving), denki calls condoms rubber, reader is in denial, petnames, reader is hinted to be chubby, - mdni/18+

you didn't even want to be here... you always got a bad vibe off of them. you're 'friends' with mina but just barely, yet somehow she's dragged you to a party with people who you're definitely not 'friends' with.

at least kaminari is here, he always smiles at you and makes conversation with you even if his girlfriend is a total bitch and probably is the worst out of all of them.

you miss the time before you knew they were dating. somehow after finding that out his girlfriend seemed even worse and more entitled.

you walk into the kitchen in hopes to get another drink but instead you hear that bitch and you had a feeling she was originally talking about you and it was confirmed when she said your name. "i don't know why she's even here. the only reason mina invited her was out of pity." she says spitefully. your eyes well up with tears, maybe you did get invited out of pity, mina is someone who would do that, she knows you don't have many friends.

this whole time you don't realise kaminari is behind you hearing the same thing you are and his face twists in disgust as he hears his girlfriend carry on speaking, "she's just so boring, it's no wonder she's single." your heart fills heavy, it's not your fault that you're single you've just never found someone you clicked with, you blame it on all the fictional characters you like and you often compared them to all your potential relationships. "she's ugly. it's almost a crime that she's at a party with us, that she's in hinami's home. when i started dating kami i met some of his other friends from school when he was younger, that's when i met mineta. the really short one y'know? short, pervy and unattractive, all around terrible guy. he's probably going to be single for the rest of his life, the only way he's not is if he dates her and even then it'll be him who's the more better looking one." they laugh.

why, why, why? what did you ever do to them?

you know you're not the most interesting or the most attractive but you don't deserve this- no one does. you don't want to make a scene but you have to leave, you can't stay here any longer. you wish you could speak up for yourself but you can't and even if you could what good would it do? so you decide to leave before you start hyperventilating, before saying goodbye to mina. turning around to leave when you literally bump into kaminari and there's an expression on his face that you've never seen before and he doesn't even try to hide it.

he looks angry. more than angry, he looks pissed. he's gripping hold of the beer he's drinking so hard that his hands are becoming white around the bottle, his jaw is clenched and his stare is hard but when he feels you bump into him his eyes soften when he looks at you and takes you in. you're biting your lip trying not to sob and tears are filling your waterline. as you see him you can't stop the dam from breaking as the tears heavily stream down your face. as you push past him you hope to never see him again- any of them.

that doesn't happen though. denki has made it a point to wiggle himself into your life, inserting himself there. it happened that very night after you left the party, about half an hour after you arrived home and changed into comfy clothes he came knocking on you door. "kaminari? how... how do you know where i live? wait, what- hold up, what are you even doing here?"

why is he wet, has it been raining? he smiles genuinely at you, even though he's soaked to the bone, freezing from the rain and so very irate with his girlfriend just seeing you cheers him up. he's never seen you in a comfortable setting before, a setting where you're not dressing up from anyone, you look even cuter than normal...

"can i come in?" he asks you and you blink slowly and heavily a few times, processing the question. it relaxes you because the way he says it sounds like a sincere questions. sometimes when people ask a question you know you have to answer a certain way, you know there is a right way.

sometimes when someone asks "can i...?" you have to say yes because saying no isn't really an option, they're not really asking you. but when you heard denki say, "can i come in?" you relax because you know you could just say no and that would be okay, he would be okay with that. if you told him no he 'can't come in' he'd just leave and won't push you to say yes or try to make you feel guilty. sometimes questions like "can i come in?" or a "can we go here?" are almost rhetorical question.

he makes you feel safe.

you nod your head and step aside letting him through. "okay," you reply softly and a little hoarsely, slightly annoyed at yourself for not speaking more louder and assertively.

"how are you feeling?"

the tether that's keeping you from becoming frustrated feels like it starts fraying "how do you think i'm feeling?" beginning to get annoyed at him because why is he even here talking to you, shouldn't he still be at hinema's house with his girlfriend?

"yeah... that's a stupid question, sorry." denki rubs the back of his head with hand and steps a little bit closer to you. "let me make you feel better," he blurts out.

"huh?"

denki steps even closer to you and gently holds onto your hand, clasping it in his. "let me... let me make you feel better. let me apologise on my girlfriends behalf..." your eyes go wide starting to have an idea about what he means but not wanting to verbalise it and jump to conclusions, worrying to get the wrong idea. "let me... show you- show you how beautiful you are, how wonderful you are." he squeezes your hand momentarily and says quietly, almost begging, "please."

"what about your girlfriend?" you say girlfriend with disdain.

"what about her? she doesn't matter. let me show you how pretty you are love."

your heartbeat increases at the nickname and your face heats up. "i- i don't know kaminari."

"denki." he says gently but authoritatively.

"what?"

"please, please call me denki." he pleads, squeezing your hand again.

"okay, denki..." you test his name on your tongue and it sounds right, like you should always be saying it.

even now you're still not sure to what compelled you to say, "please show me denki." you never regretted your answer.

it starts slowly, gently, tenderly. denki cups your cheek in his palm and kisses you, placing his other hand on your hip keeping you close to him. the longer you kiss the more hungry it becomes and you're not really sure if it was you or him that deepened the kiss and pressed your bodies up against each other.

"can i love?" he gestures to your top that he's currently fiddling with the hem of, wanting to lift it up so he can touch you properly and get a good look at you.

you hum in affirmation and keep your lips attached to his, not wanting to separate. denki slivers your top up and puts his hand where it used to be, now on your exposed supple flesh, his cold hands stroking your skin delicately. as you feel his hands you shudder remembering now about how drenched he is. "you must be freezing denki." you finally move away from his lips and see his clothes covered in rain with rain drops dripping down his hair landing on his shoulders.

"it's okay. completely worth it." denki grins at you and you suddenly feel shy by the way he's looking at you. you definitely feel pretty by his gaze, it's electrifying and makes you feel bashful all at once.

"do- do you want a towel to dry yourself off with?" denki kisses your jaw and smiles, distracting you.

"don't worry about it love." his breathe against your neck making you shiver. you pout even though he can't see you and you still worry, not wanting him to get a cold. "you keep me warm."

"but-"

denki presses his lips against yours and wraps both his arms around your waist. you moan quietly and he lifts your top up over your head. "is this okay?"

"yes please," you respond, hoping not to sound too needy.

he smirks at your tone and takes off the rest of your clothes. "jesus, you look even more beautiful than i imagined," he says quietly to himself, you're not sure if you were suppose to hear it or if he even meant to say it out loud. denki runs his hands along the curves of your body.

"you imagined me?" you match his volume and he looks startled at your question, obviously surprised that you heard what he said, you come to the conclusion that he thought he was thinking but he actually said out loud

"who wouldn't? you're beautiful." denki kisses your shoulder and holds one of your breasts in his large hands, stroking your nipple as you bite your lip to stop any embarrassing noises spilling out. you're already feeling shy as it is after denki has said such nice things about you.

after realising what you were doing he takes your chin in his hand and tilts you to look at him so you're making eye contact. "look at me. you don't need to do that. not with me. i want to see you. i want to hear all the noises you make, i want you."

denki grazes his teeth along your neck and you gasp. "those are the noises i wanted." you press your lips together trying not to smile, denki grins at how adorable you look.

he moves to take off his shirt and you thought he looked good beforehand in a casual black button up shirt but god does he look even better with it off. you thought he'd be kind of skinny but he's actually lean and a little slim. you can see some defining muscle, his arms are just the same. a couple of moles on his forearms and faint freckles dust his shoulders and upper chest. you wonder if he has light freckles on his face too because you've never once seen them but maybe you haven't looked hard enough.

you know you're probably staring a tiny bit too much at his slender waist and yellow happy trail that matches the colour of his hair and he doesn't mind one bit, happy that you like what you see and fond of your attention.

"like what you see?" he chuckles. you go to hide your face behind your hand after being caught but denki catches your wrist. "what did i tell you? i want to see you sweetheart." you have the urge to bury your face against his chest, hiding away from his gaze but you resist the urge.

everything became a little hazy after that for the next ten minutes, denki has manoeuvred you into your bedroom onto your bed, hovering over you, and keeping you in between his two arms. you pull denki down by wrapping your arms around his neck so you can kiss him again. the kiss begins slow and sweet before denki runs his tongue against your bottom lip, silently asking for access into your mouth and you grant him it. your tongues intertwine and you can still taste that cheap beer he's been drinking that's still lingering even though you've already been kissing previously.

you could kiss denki all night but he has other plans as he starts touching your breasts again and moves his hand down your body to get you ready for his cock, surprised to find that you're already wet. "wet from just a little kissing? that's so cute." he kisses your cheek and whispers against your ear.

"denki," you whine, "don't tease me."

he has to take a deep breath after hearing you whine, not wanting to let you know how bad you affect him because if you keep making noises like that he'll come in his boxers before he gets inside you. "it's okay love." he grinds himself against your thigh, groaning at the contact, letting you feel how hard he is. "i'm just the same." he says deeply and you shiver at the knowledge that denki is just as turned on as you. he's turned on by you.

his dick is almost painful with being contained in his jeans so he rushes to take them off. precome stains his grey boxers turning the area black and he takes them off too, grinning at you. the one way you would describe denki's dick is pretty, just like him so it makes sense. he's a little longer than average, circumcised and pubes trimmed. you want him inside you. now.

"do you have a- you know?" denki asks, gesturing to your bedside cabinet. he regrets not carrying any condoms in his pocket or wallet but his girlfriend only likes having sex in ones of their bedrooms. she's not a fan of spontaneous sex.

"oh, um, maybe? in the bathroom. i wasn't really expecting this and i don't- don't do this a lot... at all really." you admit, while trying to think about where you keep condoms because you must have them somewhere but you keep coming up a blank. the entire time denki's thinking about how you never do this, it makes him feel special, special that you're letting him make you feel good.

you want him... all of him. "i um-i-i'm on the pill." denki's eyes snap up to look at you.

"holy shit are you serious right now?" he asks automatically and enthusiastically, his face lighting up.

you start regretting your suggestion and denki can tell by the look on your face, he thinks he probably spooked you. "we don't need to do anything like that if you don't want to love. i can eat you out for hours. i mean hell, that sounds like at absolute dream." you giggle after hearing that. "sorry i was a bit quick and excited there, i've just never had sex without any rubber on."

you're surprised after hearing that, thinking that he's the type to go without and you tell him just that. "i think that was why i was so excited, i've always wanted too. it's always been a dream of mine and i don't like using them but i've never brought it up with any of the girls i've been with."

"well.. is it okay that i brought it up?" you ask more confident seeing that denki is delighted with the idea.

"fuck yeah. i trust you like crazy. if it was going to be anyone i'd want it to be you." he tells you, grinning. he trusts you. if he had the opportunity with anyone he'd choose you? your heart flutters.

"i don't really like condoms either and i want you, all of you." you tell him shyly and denki's heart misses a beat after your confession.

next thing you know denki is pushing his cock into, inch by inch. even though denki has already prepped you and has been touching you there is still a slight stretch. both you and denki groan simultaneously. your velvet, warm, wet walls welcome him without any barrier.

what comes out of denki next is a mixture of moans, groans, swearing and praising with each thrust. "fucking hell, holy shit sweetheart. you're fucking beautiful, most beautiful girl in the world, so pretty." with each praise and compliment every slight doubt that lingers in the back of your mind disappears, your sole focus being on the man above you. "you feel so good, lovely." he holds your hands in his, enlacing your fingers, that seems far too intimate for a supposedly one night stand to make you feel better.

he catches on to how to please you best with every gasp, noise and shake, and only after a couple minutes he seems to know your body better than you do. with every thrust he's rubbing against your g-spot, drawing circles over your clit and taking your nipple in his mouth.

you came harder than you ever came that night, multiple times with your ears going fuzzy and eyes going blurry. denki doesn't let you know but he's in the same boat, his come spilling into you, the warmth making you shudder and arch your back, grabbing onto him tightly. he's never came as much as he did and he knows that it's all because of you.

you don't know how it happened but denki ended up staying the night and leaving in the early hours of the morning. this wasn't how your night was suppose to go but you don't regret it. he did what he said he would when he arrived on your doorstep, he did make you feel better and he did make sure you didn't spend the night upset and feeling insecure and alone. that night was so shitty, his girlfriend was so shitty yet he succeeded in making it a good night.

when he came to your door you thought there was a silent understanding, a one night stand and after this he'll go back to his girlfriend. for that one night he'll be making up for what his girlfriend said but it didn't turn out like that.

you expected to not see denki for months, that is if you ever see him again. you expected to go back to calling him by his last name and trying to forget what he looks like nude and how his stomach went taunt as he was about to climax but instead you saw him a week after when he knocked on your door, slamming his lips against yours and pushing you against your wall. at least once a week for months now you would see him, you know you should feel bad for his girlfriend, he is cheating on her with you, but you don't, not in the slightest.

after the first few times denki came by again you slipped in some questions afterwards, wanting to know if he was doing this with other girls. he isn't.

wanting to know if you're still the only person he's slept with without wearing a condom. yes you are and he has no intention of changing that.

you've never asked him any questions involving morality like if he feels guilty or if he loves his girlfriend. it doesn't involve you.

you're aware now your relationship has developed more than it once was, the closest label you have would be friends with benefits. some nights denki knocks on your door unannounced, like always, with a bag of popcorn and your favourite snacks ready to watch a new film that has just come out on netflix. he's probably the closest friend you have, you stay clear of his girlfriend though, she isn't even aware that you and denki are close now. hopefully the last time she's spoken about you or thought about you was at that dreadful party and hopefully it stays that way.

denki likes his girlfriend... he does... if he was quoting mean girls he'd say something along the lines of - there's good and bad to everybody. but his girlfriend is just more upfront about it.

that would be a lie though. there are some things he likes about his girlfriend and when they're alone together it can be really good but he then remembers about how awful her attitude is towards other people. towards you. sneaking around and cheating on her is honestly rather thrilling for him and he likes the idea of silently letting you get your own back.

sometimes he'll rationalise it in his own head while he's drunk. cheating on her is okay because he's always wanted to sleep with you. it's okay because ever since you first met, denki wished you were his girlfriend.

he could never end it with his current girlfriend, his parents always ask about her and it would cause a rift in their friend group. near the beginning of their relationship his girlfriend brought herself a dog but he prefers denki over her, opting to want his attention over hers. if they did break up he knows he'd never see that dog again, he's grown to love it. it's just as much of his than it is hers but he knows that that won't matter and he'll never see him again if they broke up. they work next to each other and they go to all the same places.

he could never break up with her, he'd never hear the end of it with his parents.

so for now he gets to have some joy from getting to see you and kiss you and lay his head on your lap while you watch television together. if he tries hard enough he can almost imagine you're his girlfriend instead.

one night denki's at yours, you're not doing any explicit but you're just enjoying your night together, that is until she spoils it. denki's ringtone going off disrupts hot fuzz and he takes the call not even bothering to pause the movie. you decide to turn it down though. "kamiiiii, where are?" god her voice is grating. once a voice that spewed such nasty things about you now just sounds annoying. "i came by yours and you're not here."

denki closes his eyes shut tight, it looks to you that he's annoyed too. "sorry, i'm out tonight." he lies and know what is about to happen next.

"don't you want to see me. c'mon home, we can spend the night together." she giggles into the phone. you knew it. you knew what would happen when he answered that call from her.

denki knows he does't really have a choice without explaining where he is so he agrees to come see her. "okay, i'll be there soon." you both stay silent for a moment not talking before he breaks the silence. "i'm sorry love, we didn't even get to finish the film. i swear we can finish it next time." he apologises.

he thought he saw disappointment on your face for a second but he knows that he's just seeing things, you wouldn't be disappointed for him to go, you're not like that, he knows to you that he's just someone to fuck. he knows that you're using him to get back at his girlfriend. he doesn't mind that one bit though, as long as you're in his life.

"you can watch the rest without me if you wanted to." he tells you getting up from the sofa.

you shake your head, "no, no, it's fine. we can watch it next time. bye kaminari."

'oh no she's annoyed at me, she called me kaminari. she hasn't called me that in months. maybe she wanted to have sex tonight and i've ruined her plans. i can't stay now though, i'm already leaving. i'll have to make it up to her.'

you don't know why you called him kaminari, you knew it was petty but that didn't stop you from saying it. sometimes you get so caught up with denki you forget that outside of your home he isn't yours and he never will be. you're just sleeping together, that's all, and you don't want anything more than that... you don't...

denki thought about you all night, you never left his mind. he hates that he left you but he felt like he had no option. if he was anyone else he would have enough sense to distance himself from you but when it comes to you his judgement gets cloudy and he'll do whatever he can to be in your life, even if that involves lying through his teeth to everyone about where he is.

two nights after denki left after the phone call he came to yours with a takeaway in his hand and a grin on his face. he doesn't actually say the word 'sorry,' he doesn't acknowledge that he left abruptly, he just grins and asks "hot fuzz?"

you match his grin and let him in. you thought maybe you would be a little annoyed with denki after seeing him in your doorway but you realised that you had no right to be annoyed. you're not his girlfriend.

one takeaway and half a film after you're playing with denki's hair and he hums in happiness and gratitude. "i could have you play with my hair all night but do you want to take this to the bedroom love? i'm still pretty hungry." he takes your hands away from his head so he can kiss your wrist and winks at you. you roll your eyes and call him an idiot. "just for you sweetheart." it just came out and both of you heard. denki splutters and tries to backtrack what he said but it's too late, his whole entire face is red and his eyes are wide and you're doing no better. you haven't fully processed the words yet but you're sure it was accidental, it's just denki being denki. you turn your head away from him, nervous and embarrassed. your cheeks feel like they're on fire and you don't think you have the courage to look at him in the eye. even though you've talked yourself into how it was denki just being denki you still can't look at him.

the implications that he's yours makes you incredibly happy but you don't even want to accept that, after all you just see him as a friend. he's a good fuck. you're absolutely in denial. at least he isn't. he knows he wants you to be his, fully, completely, body and mind.

you both end up trying to ignore what he said, haphazardly but relatively successful, pivoting back to denki's offer of going to the bedroom. "denks are we taking this to the bedroom or not?"

'god she's amazing.' he's so glad you aren't acting weird.

denki's got his head between your plush thighs, he's holding onto them keeping them open so you don't close them and stop him. licking a strip along your pussy, before flicking your clit a few times with his tongue and then lapping up your juices as he plays with your breast and moaning at your taste. "denki, don't do that, it's embarrassing."

he looks up from where he's laying to see you, "what? enjoy myself. don't complain or i won't let you come."

the threat of not being allowed an orgasm shuts you up, knowing that denki will absolutely deliver on that threat if he wants to. you know that he would eat you out for hours not letting your come once.

you loose track of time, your hips start rolling uncontrollably and you grab hold of his hair. "don't get greedy sweetheart, you'll come when i say you can." he holds down your thighs to stop you from moving and kisses your hip, sucking to form a mark on your soft skin. his mark.

for all his threats he does let you come. "you've been so behaved. so good sweetheart," he mumbles against your skin. you come again and again. he finally lets up and you watch him lick his lips and wink at you. you turn your head away from him and he chuckles. his erection is visible even with his jeans on and denki flops down on the bed next to you, drawing you closer so you're laying next to each other, his arm under you.

reaching down to his jeans you start stroking him through his clothes. "don't worry about that, not tonight. i just wanted to look after you, make you feel good." he places a chaste kiss on you forehead.

"you always make me feel good," you tell him honestly and his heart feels like it's beating out of his chest.

"then my work here is done." he replies and you giggle. he is completely and utterly in love with you.

he can't tell you, no matter how much he wants to. you don't feel the same way and he can't lose you.

how much longer will you stay in denial for?

will his girlfriend ever find out about you two? maybe that will be your tipping point. maybe her finding out will make you realise that you want denki more than a quick fuck or a friend. maybe her finding out will be what you need. you're in love with denki.

[piastrisun]

the perfect gift.

pairings: lando norris x fem!reader.

summary: the tradition of the secret santa in mclaren never ends, much less now that lando got your name on it.

genre: fluff.

word count: 1k.

warning: none.

notes: no use of y/n or any names at all.

as someone who notices every little detail and always stays on top of things, you can’t help but pick up on the small comments your colleagues make. if someone mentions they like something, it becomes second nature for you to remember it. and the moment you come across that item, you instinctively get it for them without a second thought. it’s not even about the object itself; it’s just who you are, attentive and thoughtful. the drivers are no exception. if oscar casually mentions he likes something as simple as a keyring, you make sure to have one ready for him at the first opportunity. and when it comes to lando, well, it's a little different. not that you play favorites, of course, but there's just something about him. you find yourself wanting to give him more—small, thoughtful gifts that hold meaning, not just because of what they are, but because it feels like you're speaking a language only he can understand.

luckily for you, lando is the same way. he’s always been so attentive to his colleagues and the whole mclaren team, making sure everyone feels seen and appreciated. and now, with christmas just around the corner, festive decorations sparkling in every room, the smell of pine filling the air, and the buzz of the secret santa exchange spreading excitement through the halls, something different stirs. fate, with its playful timing, has placed your name in lando’s hands. and though most of your interactions have remained professional, you somehow have this strange power over him, lighting up his day with just a smile or a laugh. he can’t stop thinking about you.

determined to make this gift special, lando has spent weeks quietly gathering hints, listening closely to every comment you’ve made, every subtle suggestion. it’s almost like he’s reverse engineering your tastes, wanting to find something that reflects how much he cares. and finally, after all the planning, he finds it, the perfect gift. it’s not just a present; it’s something that speaks to your interests, something that carries meaning far beyond its surface.

on the day of the exchange, your heart is fluttering with excitement, but there’s also a familiar nervousness creeping in as everyone gathers around the festive table, gifts piled high, laughter filling the air. as soon as the room grows quieter, your heart starts to beat louder, like it’s trying to escape your chest. you try focusing on the cheerful chatter around you, but every time you sneak a glance at lando, all your attempts at being calm fly out the window. he stands across the table, nervously shifting his weight from foot to foot, and for once, his usual laid-back vibe seems to disappear. every time your eyes accidentally meet, you feel heat rush to your cheeks, forcing you to look away almost immediately. what is it about him that makes you feel like this?

it’s a quiet, unspoken game, the tension hanging between you like a string about to snap. even oscar catches on, watching the two of you from the corner of his eye, grinning to himself as if he's the only one in on the secret. it’s amusing, the way your obvious connection has become so noticeable to everyone but, somehow, not entirely to you or him.

when your turn comes, after what feels like an eternity, you try to steady your hands as you reach for the present in front of you. you know it’s from him. somehow, you just know. your hands move almost automatically, and as you tear through the paper, the room falls into a soft, curious hush. your fingers tug at the wrapping paper, and when the gift is finally revealed, you freeze. your breath hitches in your throat. it’s the book, a rare edition you’ve been searching for years. the one you never thought you'd get your hands on. and next to it, resting carefully in a little pot, is a delicate flower, your favorite. and a handwritten note with a poorly drawn smiley face: “merry christmas, i’m grateful i met you.”

your eyes shoot up, and there he is, standing still, watching your reaction closely. that familiar smile of his is softer now, almost shy, a look you rarely ever see on him. lando, always so confident, now seems unsure, almost vulnerable.

“oh my god, this is perfect, lan. thank you,” you manage to say, your voice trembling with gratitude and something else you can’t quite name. you don’t think twice; you step forward and wrap your arms around him, your cheek pressing against him. it feels so natural. his arms wrap around you too, holding you in a way that makes you feel seen. he rests his chin on your head, and you can hear his soft sigh of relief. there’s no denying it now, he has been paying attention, really paying attention to everything about you.

“i’m glad you like it,” he murmurs, his voice so close to your ear that it sends shivers down your spine. “i spent ages trying to think of something that might make you happy.”

your fingers lightly brush the petals, and a warmth floods through you, a warmth you've been ignoring, maybe even avoiding, until now. you look up, and there he is, looking right at you with that shy, almost bashful smile you rarely see on him. it makes your heart flutter, seeing him this thoughtful. for a second, it feels like the whole room has melted away, the room, the laughter, the others. there’s only you and him, standing across from each other, caught in the quiet magic of the moment. you can’t help it, you smile wide, your face flushing with joy.

“wanna go out sometime?” you blurt out, the words tumbling from your lips before you can even think to stop them. the second the words leave your lips, you feel a rush of embarrassment, but at the same time, relief. it feels good to finally ask, to finally say what you’ve been holding back for so long.

lando’s eyes light up instantly, his face breaking into a smile that makes your heart skip a beat. “please, i’d love to,” he nods, his voice soft, as if the question had been burning in his mind too.

before you can say anything else, oscar’s teasing voice breaks through the magic, making you jump. “thank god for that. i was getting sick of you two.” he gives lando a playful pat on the back, grinning, but nothing can wipe the smile off either of your faces now.

©⠀piastrisun original work. please don’t translate, claim or repost any of my writing, 24’.

[herasversion]

Someone older

Summary: As Fernando Alonso's daughter, you finally have the opportunity to watch him race live again after several years. During the event, you encounter a handsome Spanish Ferrari driver.

A/N: no use of Y/N, some spanish

Carlos Sainz x Alonso reader

masterlist

It's not like you meant for it to happen, after all. Admitting it made you feel even a little bit weird. Because how do you explain your attraction to older men? Not that they have to be ancient; a few years older is good enough for you, they just need to have the vibe.

Sadly enough, or actually lucky enough for you, your Papi works with a lot of men that fit that vibe. Not that you would tell your Papi that, because how do you tell your dad, Fernando Alonso, that his Formula 1 job brings you around all these hot men that are your type, and most of them are at least four years older? Not that you're a baby; you're 22. Not that you can tell your Papi that; he would explode.

Either way, you can't blame a girl for looking, especially not at the most handsome Spaniard you've ever seen, Carlos Sainz. But you should probably stop being that oblivious with your looking before you walk by his garage; otherwise, he will realize, but most of all, your Papi will realize.

As I gather up the courage to walk by his garage, I get startled by a voice.

'Princesita, are you coming or not?' There he stands, your most favorite person in the world, your Papi. 'Of course I am coming, Papi!' But you're walking way too fast; the race only starts tomorrow. As you say that, you follow him quickly behind, as you don't know your way around the paddock. The last race you went to with your Papi was at least seven years ago when you were a 16-year-old girl, and your staring problem was way more obvious. Sorry, Mr. Vettel.

Alright, maybe you needed to practice a little bit more because there he stands, the man with the most beautiful brown puppy eyes, accompanied by the most beautiful cocky smirk. But that is not the problem; the problem is that he is talking to your Papi, and you're walking their way.

Princesita, come here. I want you to meet Carlos," your Papi says. As he speaks, you see his head turn to look at you. And yes, you most definitely still have your staring problem. Luckily for you, he seems to have the same problem as he looks you up and down and smirks. He gazes into your eyes with his beautiful brown eyes, and suddenly, you realize he's saying something. "Sorry, what did you say?" you try to laugh it off.

He laughs and says, 'Nice to meet you, hermosa,' as he shakes your hand a little too long for it not to be a little flirty. You're both interrupted by laughter and a deadly glare from your Papi. 'We have to go, Princesita,' he says in a stern voice. I try to keep my giggle inside, but it doesn't work as you follow your Papi to his garage. As I turn around, I notice a certain Ferrari driver still watching you.

Luckily for you, your Papi forgets about it soon enough. I mean, how could he not? Your Papi had a place on the podium today. And even more luckily for you, a certain beautiful Ferrari driver with beautiful brown eyes was also on the podium. That way, no one would notice your staring problem. Well, they probably wouldn't if he didn't keep looking back at me.

As your Papi runs off the podium, he runs to his team and to you to give you a big hug. And that is the moment that you know there will be a great celebration, which you could finally join. Maybe with enough luck, a certain Spanish Ferrari driver could also join; after all, he also has something to celebrate.

As I get ready for the club, I had the trouble of deciding what I should wear. After all, what do you wear to celebrate your Papi's win while still being sexy enough to seduce a certain Spanish Ferrari driver? After I think it is cute enough and my Papi is finally ready to go, we are on our way to the club. As we pull up, I realize that it's already packed, which is great news because that would mean that there are already some drivers inside.

As we walk around, I realize that maybe it isn't that great of news that it's so fully packed, as I already lost my Papi in two minutes with no one else I recognize. I push myself through the crowd, trying to get to the VIP section.

'Everything going alright, hermosa?' As I turn around to the person who whispered that in my ear, I see the most beautiful driver on the track and say, 'Yes, just trying to find Papi.'

He laughs. 'I don't think this is the place where you want to find your Papi.' Suddenly, I get pushed into him and look up into his beautiful eyes. He bends down, looking at my lips, and whispers, 'You want to dance, hermosa?

Before my mouth could even form a response, my head was already nodding yes. He laughs at me and smiles as we keep getting closer. As we dance, I notice him looking at my lips, and I kiss him. At first, he acts surprised until I feel him grin in our kiss and spin me around.

Before I even realized what was happening, we were in his hotel room, and I ended up in his bed. As I wake up to the most beautiful man grinning at me, he says, 'Good morning, hermosa.' I giggle and reply, 'Good morning.' He laughs and gives me a kiss until my phone rings very loudly. I grab it and realize I am in big trouble because I promised my Papi he could drive me home.

[rollinouttahere-writes]

I feel like Yandere Katakuri wants kids but would use IVF with his sperm because he's afraid of hurting his Darling. Corazon would respect your choice no matter you want. Doffy is giving you a baby whatever you want one or not. Crocodile it's hard to say. Buggy maybe. Rob Lucci would probably do that to control you. Paulie wouldn't. Kaku? Yes he wants kids. Ace and Yamato (they're a package deal): would want kids but if you're scared then Yamato could be the surrogate.

I agree with Katakuri doing IVF or artificial insemination for his darling because that's literally the only way to do that without killing them if they're a normal size. Katakuri would be extremely doting throughout the pregnancy and is openly excited about the baby.

Corazon wouldn't force you, but he gets this longing look in his eyes whenever he sees someone with a baby in public and looks like a kicked puppy.

I have touched on Doflamingo as a dad here. In a scenario where he chooses to have a kid with his darling, it is not optional or up for debate. You should just be grateful that he's "blessing" you with the opportunity to help continue his bloodline.

Crocodile is very on the fence about it. On one hand, the idea of raising a child has basically no appeal to him, but at the same time it feels like a shame to not have an heir to pass down his life's work and achievements to.

Buggy staunchly says that he doesn't want or even like kids, but then he has a whoopsie-baby and now being a dad is his entire personality.

I firmly believe that Lucci is the most child free looking man I've ever seen. He has zero interest in having children of his own, and he's strong enough to not need a baby to control his darling.

Paulie is another fence sitter. He wouldn't mind having kids, but he's hesitant to bring it up. He gives me girl dad vibes and would be a complete push over for them.

Kaku is dying to have a family of his own, but he's at least flexible with how he acquires it. He would be just as happy to adopt children as he would be to have biological ones.

Ace is terrified of reproducing. If he has a biological child, it was a genuine accident and he feels like he's going to have a heart attack when he gets the news. Yamato is very neutral on children. He likes them, but he was fine with not having any after seeing how stressed out Ace got when the subject was broached.