#sigh and now i have to go back and pass her again

[kirbysdreamlandd]

Hiii here's one idea based on the Barnyard Eclipse Mukbang!!!

Martin has a cousin form Croatia that is visiting Canada

She gets introduced to the gang (Mandy and Hamzah) and also the slushys

They all go together to the farm to see the eclipse

Mandy n Martin get one cabin and Hamzah n Y/N another… the whole one bed trope happens 😳

They end up cuddling while talking before sleeping - in the middle of the night he gets awkwardly HARD against her and the smut comes in!!! *cabin fever*🤭

Maybe we should keep it canon that he is a hardcore virgin?!🤨

love ur writing♥️

Eclipse Mukbang

Hamzah X Y/N (Fem)

word count: 4k - longer than I expected lol, let me know if you want a pt. 2!!

After spending your whole life in Croatia, the European life was getting boring. You’d often caught yourself daydreaming about a change, about traveling somewhere new, somewhere out of the continent.

The last time your cousins visited, they couldn’t stop bragging about their Canadian life. Martin, in particular, was insufferable with his talk about his YouTube channel. He went on and on about “Slushy Noobz” and how his videos with his friend, Hamzah, were getting more and more attention. But as annoying as his boasting was, it kind of influenced you in a way.

So, when Martin randomly offered to fly you out to Toronto, you didn’t even think twice. The idea of leaving everything familiar behind, even just for a little while was too tempting to pass up.

The moment you spotted the signs written in English and French, it finally settled in: You had just flown a full 12 hours from Croatia to Canada to visit your cousin and his girlfriend.

By the time you checked into your hotel and began to unpack, your phone buzzed with a text from Martin.

Ah, right.

You’d completely forgotten that you agreed to be in one of Martin’s next vlogs. His pitch being “You’re just as stupid as us, the Slushies are gonna love you!”. And somehow, in a moment of weakness you’d said yes.

But what Martin hadn’t mentioned was that he’d booked an Airbnb for everyone to stay in. You sighed, staring at your neatly unpacked suitcase. Tomorrow’s paid-for room was now destined to sit empty while you stayed with your cousin and his friends in whatever far countryside of Ontario he deemed “So Eclipse mukbang coded”.

Oh well. It wasn’t like you were a stranger to making videos. Back when you were both kids, you and Martin used to make YouTube videos together sneaked away into your rooms during family gatherings. They were the kind of chaotic nonsense only 10 to 12-year-olds could conjure up, that’s why years later that channel was wiped off the website, never to be seen again.

Just as you were coming to terms with the Airbnb situation, another text from Martin popped up on your phone. He casually mentioned that Mandy and Hamzah would be joining and that “for the sake of the bit” Martin and Hamzah were gonna share a queen-sized bed while you and Mandy would have to do the same. You sighed, setting your phone down before diving onto the hotel room’s neatly-made bed.

As much as you tried to downplay it, you always enjoyed Martin’s company. Sure, he could be overwhelming at times, but dealing with his shenanigans was mostly fun. The two of you had a sense of unbounded silliness that you shared with no one else. While you usually kept that side of yourself hidden around most people, Martin always brought it out of you. With him, you didn’t feel the need to filter your humor or tone down yourself. It was an unspoken agreement between you two. A family bond of sorts.

-

The next day you met in Martin’s car, which was oddly being driven by his friend Hamzah, and you squeezed into the backseat.

“Hi, Y/N. I’m Hamzah.” The brunette said looking at you through the rear view mirror, his thin glasses reflecting your face as you awkwardly waved in response.

From Martin’s description and based on his usual group of friends, you had expected Hamzah to be just as obnoxious. But, to your surprise, he gave off a surprisingly calm vibe. His polite introduction almost catching off guard.

“Yeah. He’s my other half” Martin chimed in grinning as he reached a hand on Hamzah’s thigh only for it to be quickly swatted away.

The two eventually started recording. After a series of exaggerated pouts and baby voices from your cousin, Martin’s girlfriend was reluctantly handed the camera, clearly giving in just to put an end to the obscenity of Martin’s pleads.

As they started talking, you noticed a subtle shift in Hamzah’s demeanor. His voice took on a slightly higher pitch, and he became noticeably more talkative. You understood the concept of putting on a persona, but you couldn’t help but wonder if, deep down, he was just as silly as you and Martin, if his videos made his truest self come out.

“So, you’re probably wondering who this is,” Mandy said as the camera flipped to face you. You froze, giving it an awkward deer-in-the-headlights stare.

“And yes, guys,” Martin interrupted from the backseat, leaning into the frame, “She is my girlfriend.”

Mandy gasped, swiveling the camera to capture Martin’s overly confident smirk, which faded fast under her glare. The whole car was quickly filled with an awkward atmosphere until Hamzah broke the silence with a stifled laugh.

“She’s your cousin, Martin, oh my god” She complained, panning the camera back to you with a defeated look on her face as though she was considering being single again. You scrunched your nose back to her, as a way of giving her your condolences.

“I’m Y/N. Martin’s cousin,” You introduced yourself, giving the camera a deadpan look. “And yes, I am unfortunately related to him.”

From the driver’s seat, Hamzah let out a low chuckle. You caught his amused glance in the rearview mirror. You spotted Martin’s pouting at the camera from the corner of your eye.

“So guys,” Martin cut in, clapping his hands together, reverting the audience’s attention back to him. “Right now, we’re on our way to the Airbnb—”

“—Brokeback Mountain Airbnb.” Hamzah interjected dryly, eyes on the road.

“The Brokeback Mountain Airbnb— where we’ll be both sleeping together in the same bed!” Your cousin announced with way too much enthusiasm to the camera. Mandy groaned audibly, leaning back to create as much distance as possible between herself and the camera.

As the drive neared its end, the car turned onto a quiet gravel road. Up ahead, a cozy lodge came into view, the air carrying a blend of woodsmoke and the earthy scent of barn animals, reminding you of the rustic surroundings.

Approaching the entrance of the house, Hamzah pulled out his phone to text the owner.

“Jesus, there’s barely any signal.”

“Hey, get off your phone,” Martin said, his voice teasing. Mandy pointed the camera at him, capturing his exaggerated performance. “Enjoy nature, man.” he added, spinning around dramatically in the air.

That’s when Mandy stopped the recording as Hamzah, too focused on trying to find a way to access the Airbnb, didn’t bother to pay attention to Martin’s antics.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” Hamzah muttered after a while, tucking his phone away into his pocket. “I guess we could just start eating.”

You left Hamzah and Martin as they wandered toward two stray chairs they’d found just outside the farm. The camera, Popeyes chicken, and those stupid eclipse glasses in hand.

You and Mandy had agreed to avoid participating in the mukbang and eat in the car earlier. Maybe it was a bit out of spite: you couldn’t help it as the guys stared at you with hunger in their eyes while you devoured your chicken, still insisting they were gonna have to wait until they get to the Airbnb to start the “Mukbang”.

You realized you and Mandy got along better than expected—your shared love for animals and the casual shit-talking behind the guys’ backs bonding you. As you left the kids to play, you decided to take a stroll around the farm, bumping into a tall man with leather gloves and a broom in hand. He introduced himself as the owner and, much to your delight, offered to show you the barn animals. You told him you’d wait for the guys to catch up, and he handed you the house keys before walking off. Both of you giggled at the thought him encountering the two guys hunched over their chicken in the middle of his yard while filming a YouTube video.

Once inside the house, you and Mandy headed to the first bedroom you found. The room was cozy, with a large bed and a homely vibe you both loved. You tossed your bags on the bed and settled in, chatting and making yourselves comfortable.

But as the two of you were discussing about how much money adopting an alpaca would cost you, Mandy began sneezing more and more frequently. She sniffled, rubbed her nose, and you noticed her eyes started to water.

“Mandy, you okay?”

“I don’t know. I might be allergic to something here,” she replied, her voice a bit stuffy. “My throat is itching.”

You looked around, trying to figure out what could be causing the problem. That’s when your eyes landed on the large framed picture above the bed. It was a beautiful floral arrangement, but those colorful flowers were as beautiful as they looked like they were likely to cause an allergic reaction.

“Are you allergic to some type of flower?” you said, pointing above you. “It might be that frame over there.”

Mandy sneezed again, looking miserable. “Ugh, this is so bad.”

Without wasting any time, you helped Mandy pack up her things. “Come on, let’s change rooms.”

You grabbed the keys and led her out, making your way to the second cabin. The other bedroom was much more spacious, you realized it was probably the one the guys booked for themselves to sleep in.

“Oh well. They’re gonna have to take the floral one” You said as you set you things to the side of the bed, taking a seat on the colorful bedsheets. Mandy thanked you, while she got remaining sniffles out with the tissues you gave her.

You were both laying flat on the bed relaxing when the light reflecting into the room began to dim, Mandy tilted her head, noticing it too. Curious, you stood up from the bed and walked over to the window. Peering out, you spotted the two guys who had brought you here, standing behind a camera and exclaiming excitedly at the sky.

“They grow up so fast.” Mandy commented, her eyes darting over the two figures in the distance before walking over to the opposite window, her phone propped up to take a picture of the eclipse happening in front of her.

“Careful, you’re looking at it with no glasses on” you teased, mimicking Martin’s exaggerated tone. Mandy responded with her usual deadpan stare that she usually reserved for your cousin.

Once she finished taking her pictures, you both decided to step out and meet up with the guys. The sky was already fading back to normal as they wrapped up their mukbang. The chairs were deserted, but Martin and Hamzah were still nearby, camera in hand.

“Did you see that, Mandy?” Martin called out enthusiastically walking toward you, his glasses still on, making him look as ridiculous as it was the over-excited energy he greeted his girlfriend with.

“That was actually beautiful, man” Hamzah added, carrying empty Popeyes boxes and a tripod with ease as he started heading back toward the cabins with the rest of you.

You filled them in about the allergy situation, and they quickly agreed to switch rooms. Martin made sure to announce the plan to the viewers, turning the camera back on.

“Okay, so, we got a smaller room for us,” Martin narrated, zooming in on the bed before panning to Hamzah’s unimpressed expression as he scanned the space. “But that’s okay. It’ll bring us even clos—”

His words were abruptly cut off by the anticipation of a loud sneeze, his left hand flying up to his nose as he sniffled. “Damn, big-ass sneeze” Hamzah teased, taking the camera from Martin so he could grab a tissue.

But the sneezing didn’t stop. Each sniffle grew louder and slimier, making Hamzah let out an audible “eugh” as he watched his friend’s mucus drip onto the tissue.

“God, I might be allergic to lilies too” Martin joked weakly, before Mandy demanded he evacuated the cabin. After stepping outside for a while, Martin’s sneezes started to ease, confirming your and Mandy’s suspicions.

“Aw, we’re united by allergies too!” Martin said dramatically, wrapping his arms around Mandy, who, despite being restrained by his hug, let a tiny smirk slip across her usual stoic face.

“Shit, this is complicated,” Hamzah muttered, sighing as he gestured toward you and Mandy“We can’t switch rooms with you again.”

He bit his bottom lip, frowning in frustration, before glancing at you. Silence stretched on as you and Hamzah shared an awkward stare-off, both silently acknowledging the inconvenient situation.

“I’m sorry,” Mandy gave you both an apologetic look as she wiggled out of Martin’s restraint “We could ask for the flowers to get removed…”

But that last sentence hung in the air, heavy with a shared hesitance among all of you.

“It’s fine” You and Hamzah both said at the same time, voices overlapping in different paces but carrying the same tension.

Mandy and Martin didn’t seem to have any objections, leaving you and Hamzah to share a one-bed room.

In the quiet of your cabin, an unspoken tension between you and Hamzah grew as you were settling into the once-again changed room. Even when you were doing something as simple as unpacking your belongings, every movement seemed amplified, making you both extremely aware of each other’s presence. Hamzah glanced over, clearly trying to keep things casual.

“You good with that side?” he asked, motioning to the bed as he set his phone and retainer on the nightstand.

“Oh, yeah.” you replied, hoping your voice sounded steadier than you felt. You busied yourself with unpacking your pajamas, desperately avoiding his gaze.

Rummaging sounds came from his side as he fought with the zipper of his backpack, his voice breaking the silence again.

“This your first time in Canada?”

“Yeah,” you said, glancing over at him while you finished setting your things on the small wooden vanity. “First time anywhere outside Europe, kinda nervous.”

Hamzah shared a laugh with you, his shoulders easing as the tension in his chest seemed to slowly settle.

“Well, welcome to America, I guess. Though, as an immigrant, I’d advise you to go back when you still have the choice.” Hamzah’s tone remained the same, the last serious remark slipping out with a half-smile, as if it hadn’t been meant to land too heavily.

His hands fumbled with the things in his backpack, pulling out a crumpled receipt and some loose papers before setting it aside with a quick motion.

He then got up and walked around the bed over to your side, stopping in front of the door, something small clutched in his hands. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes but stopping to turn towards you.

“Wanna come outside?” he asked, his gaze catching yours, what seemed like a lighter being shuffled around in hand. His dark eyes lingered a bit, scanning over your face a couple of times, as if searching for something or perhaps just your reaction.

“Sure” you said, your voice steady despite the sudden rush of the moment. Without thinking, you dropped your things, completely unaware that you had left your phone behind.

You followed Hamzah outside, your gaze fixed on the back of his head, as if trying to figure out what was going on in his mind. The air outside was cool, and the silence between you both felt oddly comfortable.

You found a bench just outside the cabin, the stone wall behind it covered in vines and delicate flowers that made it look like it was straight out of a fairytail. But as Hamzah lit his cigarette, and cloud of smoke curled up into the air, you were pulled out of that very magical feeling.

“Want one?” Hamzah asked, catching your gaze on his cigarette.

You shook your head. “No, thanks,” you replied, your voice almost reflexive.

For a moment, you hesitated, a thought almost slipping from your lips. You were about to say “I stopped that years ago” but quickly shut the thought down. It felt like the kind of thing that might open up a conversation you didn’t feel right to have in that moment. Instead, you let the silence stretch a bit longer, the smoke hanging filling the air you two were sharing.

The sky had softened into deep blue hues, casting everything in muted shadows. Hamzah’s sharp features caught the soft glow of the unfolding moon, you watched the spirals of smoke blown out of his lips drift upward before dissolving into the night.

“I thought I finally stopped, you know,”Hamzah’s low voice broke the silence, a chuckle escaping mid-sentence.

You glanced over at him. He was already looking at you, though his gaze seemed to falter, as if he hadn’t meant to get caught. The cigarette dangled between his fingers, its ash tumbling to the ground below.

“Still, I carry a pack in my backpack,” he admitted, his tone hollow. “Guess I’m not stopping anytime soon.”

A humorless chuckle slipped out of him. His eyes dropped to the ground, and a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. For a moment, you noticed the subtle tremor in his fingers.

Hamzah caught the way your eyes lingered on his trembling hand. His jaw tensed, and he lifted the cigarette for another drag, faking nonchalance.

“I’m only smoking ‘cause of nerves,” he muttered, the smoke curling from his lips. “This bed situation has been making me a bit…” He trailed off before biting the inside of his cheek. His words swallowed by hesitation.

“It’s hard to stop,” you admitted, your voice low but steady. “I mean, I’ve been there. Quit, started again, quit again… It’s a never-ending cycle.”

The words tumbled out of your mouth like a landslide, a reflexive need to reassure him colliding with an undeniable sense of relatability. Hamzah caught your gaze from the corner of his eyes, his expression softening, steady and quiet, as if he was carefully holding onto every word. When you fell silent, though, he didn’t look away. His expression seemed to be expectant, like he wasn’t yet ready for you to stop talking.

You hesitated, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of your coat. “Anxiety is something you have to battle, not cope with.”

The sentence hung in the air, heavier than you intended. Your tone came out too even, you almost worried it sounded cold. But the words were real—every bit of them was something you truly meant, words you wished someone had said to you when you were struggling too.

Hamzah’s silent response should’ve been unnerving, but it wasn’t. In fact, the way he looked at you, earnest, almost patient, made you feel oddly grounded. He nodded slowly, the corners of his lips tugging into a soft smile. It wasn’t a defeated one this time, but something warmer, more genuine. “That’s true” he said simply. But it didn’t feel like just an agreement for you, it was an affirmation that every bit of your words actually mattered.

But before you two could add anything more, Martin’s voice cut through the quiet night.

“Hey, we’re about to go eat dinner!” Your cousin exclaimed, walking over to you, car keys jingling in his hand. “You guys coming or…?”

“Just give me the keys, man.” Hamzah groaned as he stood up from the bench, a soft grin peeking through his rough act, swiftly catching the keys thrown his way by Martin.

In the car, you caught Hamzah’s gaze more than once. His eyes shifted between the road and brief glances at you, his steady expression almost as if he were ensuring both the drive and you were under control.

You dined at a Chinese restaurant in the area, despite you and Mandy’s earlier talk about wanting to try Ontario’s traditional country dishes. Hamzah had scoffed at the idea, insisting there was no such thing, and if there was, it wouldn’t be worth tasting.

During your second round of sushi rolls, Martin, mid-attempt to hit the ending scene “Wicked”high notes, accidentally knocked over a bowl of hot soup. The contents spilling all over your light blue dress. Though the soup wasn’t boiling hot, Hamzah moved quickly to catch the bowl and then proceeded to dab at the stain with tissues while Martin apologized profusely. You laughed it off, even if the damp spot on your stomach left you trembling during the walk back to the car, the chill of Canada’s cold air biting at your wet skin.

Clutching your coat tightly in a futile attempt to warm yourself, you shivered visibly. Hamzah noticed immediately and leaned toward you. “You okay?”

“Just give her your jacket already” Mandy scolded, peering over Martin to shoot Hamzah an annoyed look.

Hamzah shrugged off his jacket without a word, holding it by the shoulders as he hovered it behind you. The awkward silence stretched long enough to make you wonder if you were supposed to laugh or not, but his steady expression made you quickly slip your arms through the sleeves, the jacket settled warmly around you, its length arriving to your thighs.

His hands brushed against your shoulders as he adjusted the coat, patting it into place with a casualness that made you undeniably flustered. But despite the warmth left on the coat from Hamzah, you found yourself longing for the heat of his hands on your shoulders, a thought you tried to brush off throughout the whole walk.

As you made your way back to the lodge, the chilly, pine-scented air wrapped around you, illuminated by the soft glow of lanterns decorating the vine-infested walls. The chirping of crickets seemed to sing you a gentle welcome.

“Look at the stars!” Mandy exclaimed, elbowing Martin, a finger pointing up above. The group came to a halt, all turning your heads upward as one.

Above you was a sky so clear and full of stars it was hardly comparable to the light-polluted streets of Toronto. You stood still for a moment, mesmerized by the view, while Martin silently pulled out the camera.

“There’s the Big Dipper” you said while pointing toward a constellation, tracing its shape with your finger. The others squinted, following your gaze. “See? That’s the handle, and there’s the body.”

Hamzah stopped squinting to turn to the camera with a big confident smile, one that practically screamed a stupid joke was about to come out of his mouth.

Hamzah tilted his head, squinting at the stars. “Bro, the Big Dipper is what I get at Dave’s Hot Chicken, know what I’m sayin’?”

His terrible attempt at comedy was met with two deadpan stares, as expected, from both you and Mandy. Martin the other hand stifled a laugh, but quickly collected himself, turning the camera around to film himself.

“I don’t know, guys, the only beautiful star I see is the one right next to me.” Martin said, wrapping an arm around his girlfriend and pulling her close. Mandy rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips as she reached out to rest an arm on his back.

Hamzah groaned, his eyes flicking back to the sky.

“Little Dipper’s right there, right?” He leaned in closer, his gaze following yours, hand extending to point up at the stars. “Though I call ‘em Ursa Minor and Ursa Major. Never heard of Lil’ Dipper.”

Hamzah joked, mocking your knowledge of astronomy, which made you elbow his side in frustration.

“Oh, but I’m sure you know all about Lil Yeat, right?” You shot back, your tone confident.

But you were met with a burst of laughter exploding from him, his dry chuckles paired with his shoulders shaking uncontrollably. He wiped at his eyes, struggling to catch his breath. “Did you say Lil Yeat?” he gasped breathless.

You rolled your eyes as Hamzah tried to control his laughter, his hand rubbing his face frantically as he struggled to compose himself. He really didn’t have to mock you twice in a row, especially when the first joke was based on something you clearly had more knowledge on, and the second one being about a rapper’s name, one that you really couldn’t cared less about.

Hamzah hadn’t stopped teasing you about it, repeating “Lil Yeat” to Martin, who had the same, in your opinion, exaggerated reaction. The jokes carried on all the way to the cabin, where you two found yourself in after being ditched by the couple, who had conveniently decided they needed some “private time.”

“I’m gonna make you a Yeat fan one day, mark my words” Hamzah declared, locking the door behind him. That teasing smirk he’d been wearing all evening was still firmly in place.

“Can’t wait” you replied dryly, heading straight for the bathroom. You unpacked your cosmetics onto the small, cramped counter and began sorting through your skincare essentials. Just as you settled into your nightly routine, Hamzah started hovering in the doorway, holding a moisturizer and toothpaste. You quickly interjected his request to borrow some of your skincare products, cutting him off with a sharp look, but his insistent nudging came back the moment you pulled out a new product.

“Why not? There’s no way I can fit mine in this tight of a space anyway.” he whined.

“That’s what she said,” you muttered, dabbing your pricey Tatcha moisturizer onto your face.

The night passed quickly as the two of you argued over who had to take a piss the most all the way toplayfully shoving each other to claim the impossibly tiny sink.

When you finally made it to bed, you were relieved to find it wasn’t as small as you’d feared. Though not too spacious, it fit both of you well enough under the heavy blankets.

“Holy shit—your foot!” Hamzah suddenly yelped, jerking his leg away when your icy toes brushed against his calf. His warmth was so inviting, though, that you couldn’t help but inch closer.

Without warning, you extended your leg again, letting your foot rest against what you quickly realized was his thigh.

“Oh my god—“ Hamzah groaned as your heel pressed into his skin. He flinched but didn’t pull away immediately, giving you just enough confidence to push further.

Smirking, you placed your foot completely flat onto his thigh, his body warmth radiating like a heater to the entire sole of your foot.

“You better stop.” he threatened through chuckles, his leg jerking involuntarily as his hand darted out to grab your ankle. You yelped, trying to jerk your leg free, but his hold only tightened, restricting your movement. In a burst of resistance, you pushed forward with more force than you intended.

The sudden motion sent him lurching forward, his chest subtly pressing against your back. You both froze, the laughter still caught in your throat as you felt the fabric of Hamzah’s shorts tickling your thigh.

You quickly turned into a flushed mess, your face heating up as you felt a firm bump against your backside, Hamzah’s breath quickening against your ear.

[misettemisette]

Chapter 4 ➺ Hell Clásico

Starting over In Madrid

Summary: After moving to Madrid as Real Madrid's new photographer, Nicky can’t seem to take her eyes off the pretty face Misa Rodríguez. But how will she handle her growing desire for the Canarian goalkeeper when her contract strictly forbids dating players? WC: 4K words TW: suggestive PS: French writer Chapter 1 ➺ A harder job than I thought Chapter 2 ➺ Clearly on a bad slope Chapter 3 ➺ Calmly panicking 

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧ 

"You don’t come after training because we’re still grounded ?" 

Misa’s text lifted my heart. With the Clásico and games abroad coming, I had a huge amount of work keeping me out of the stadium. I had shut myself in my office for three days now, importing, retouching photos, and thinking about the next games’s visuals… Since resisting the goalkeeper was becoming more and more difficult, I had to admit I was relieved to be able to avoid her.

I thought for a moment about what to answer. As soon as she had stood up from that bench on the evening at the park, Misa had been her funny self again. She had joked happily. We had said goodbye at the entrance of the parking lot. Like friends do. If she had been disappointed, she had hidden it well. 

And now she was texting me about not coming to our photo meeting in a casual yet flirty way again…

"Feels like I’m the grounded one… work is keeping me trapped in my office!" I texted back.

"👉🤓" 

"🫠👋"

She started typing and stopped. Her text bubble didn’t reappear. I sighed. I hated having to be distant with her. I sighed again and buried myself back into work. 

Fifteen minutes later, loud, erratic knocks boomed against the door of my office. 

"What…?" 

Without waiting, Misa, Hayley, and Sofie burst into the room. "Here she is ! You believed to could get rid of us that easy Nicky?" Hayley asked as the three girls came around my desk. Misa had brought a ball and severals biscuits with her. 

"What are you doing here?!" I said, already annoyed. I had a feeling they weren’t here to help me��� 

"We’re checking if you’re still Nicky and not a robot." Misa dropped the biscuits on my desk and started to play with her ball, bouncing it between her foot and thigh. Sofie was leaning toward my computer screen. "Do you have new photos of me?". Hayley was examining my cameras from every angle. "I’ve never seen this one, would you recommend it Nicky?" The dull sound of the ball bouncing rhythmically constantly filled the room. I couldn’t believe how quickly they had created such a mess.   

"Guys, a girl needs to focus right now!" I said, eyes closed, with a hand on my forehead. 

"Oh, you can keep working, don’t mind us." Hayley had taken a camera and was back to taking pictures. Sofie joined Misa and they went passing each other the ball. There was no way I was going to be able to concentrate in this chaos. 

Just edit ten more photos tonight, I told myself. I grabbed back my pencil and graphic tablet, opened a photo of Olga striking, and started erasing an unwanted grass twigs on one of her socks. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Misa’s face approaching the screen while chewing a mouthful of biscuits. "What’s this? Are you drawing?" She asked, pointing at my tablet. The sound of the ball still echoed as Sofie had taken over. A few crumbs fell from the goalkeeper’s mouth.

"Misa! The keyboard !" I blew hard on it to make them go away. 

"Perdòn!" She stepped back and tried to swallow her snack. She gestured for me to explain again. That girl can be such a pain! 

"No, I can’t draw, I’m just correcting details. A pen is more precise than a mouse", I said to her.

"Oh, vale! Can I try it?" I glared at her. "I mean not now! When you have the time. And… I can teach you football in exchange". She added with an innocent smile. 

That girl will drive me mad! 

"Misa! Leave Nicky alone and come to my IG Live, the fans wants to see you!" Sofie called from the farthest corner. 

"Coming! Nicky, take a biscuit, son muy buenos!"

They kept going like this until they were forced to leave with me. I had painfully managed to do half the work I wanted to finish. Tomorrow is another day…

***

Alas, the next day was just the same. They came after their practice, making even more noise than before, until my boss finally showed up to send them away. Despite the chaos, it was a miracle I managed to finish everything at a relatively early hour on the eve of the Clásico. That meant I could be on time to catch Misa and Hayley after the motivational speech following that day’s training session.

The speech wasn’t over when I arrived near the meeting room and peered discreetly inside. The players didn’t seem very captivated. Olga’s legs fidgeted with impatience, and Linda appeared to be slowly zoning out. Fortunately, it ended shortly, and I exited the building to wait for my friends.

They arrived among the first. I could sense their nervousness behind the frank smiles they both gave me as a greeting.

"Hey Nicky, great speech, eh..?" Hayley hugged me. She was so tense. "Thanks for waiting, but I need to go home. I’m off, girls, see you tomorrow!" Misa patted her shoulder as she left, and Hayley roughly brushed her hair in return.

I turned to face the goalkeeper. "How are you coping?" I asked gently. She shifted her weight from one leg to the other.

"Estoy bien…," she answered, peering down, her foot kicking at the floor aimlessly. She clearly wasn’t.

"Do you want to walk?" I asked without any ulterior motives. I just wanted to help my friend feel a bit better. She nodded.

We wandered around the sports campus and tried to talk about anything but the Clásico. At first, Misa kept jumping in place every now and then to shake off her stress. She relaxed once we started teasing each other.

"Misa, you can’t be near a ball without showing off! That’s insane!"

She smirked. "I’m an athlete, Nicky! Football is my life—of course I play with my ball all the time." She side-glanced at me, her mischievous tone and satisfied smile returning. "I did 65 rebounds yesterday."

I giggled. "Is that a lot?"

Misa’s disappointed and irritated expression had me laughing out loud.

She slapped me on the arm. "Jajaja, muy divertido! I don’t care what a girl who works at Real Madrid but knows nothing about football thinks!"

It was my turn to feign annoyance. "I see Trainer Misa is long gone before she even started…"

She opened her mouth but had no response. I’d made her sulk again. Grumpy Misa was one of my favorites, but her well-being mattered more than my amusement tonight. I gave her an exaggerated, admiring look, stopping in front of her like a crazed fan.

"Oh my God, are you Misa Rodríguez? The best goalkeeper in the world?"

"Stop it, Nicky. It’s not even convincing!" she complained, though a small smile stretched across her lips.

I continued my bad acting, bowing to her, taking her hand, and speaking in a distinguished tone. "Lady Misa, would you do me the honor of teaching me football?"

I hoped the idea of training would lift her spirits.

She laughed frankly and bit her lip, still looking a bit vexed. "Have you even ever played football?"

We resumed our walk as I pretended to search my memory. "It happened... twice, maybe. The first was at school, and the second was in the alley in front of my parents’ house."

She snorted. "No puede ser…" She shook her head, but then her voice turned curious. "For real, why did you want to work for a football club?" This time, her mocking tone was gone, making me really wonder how much I wanted to share.

"Oh… well, it wasn’t really intentional." I paused, searching for words. "I needed a change in my life. Nothing was… going well. I had a rough breakup and was really unhappy in my previous job…"

"I’m sorry to hear that," she said with a concerned look.

I half-laughed, half-sighed. "It’s okay now. I’m glad to be here. I really like Madrid."

"Bueno… and do you like your new job too?"

"Yes, I’m quite fond of it… and of my new exasperating friends," I teased her as we headed to the parking lot.

"I’m happy you’re good with us," she said, ignoring the teasing once again.

We arrived in the middle of the parking lot, and I wasn’t sure we were going in the same direction, so I gestured to the right. "I’m parked this way."

"I’m parked over here, but I’ll go with you to your car. I could use a bit more walking," she replied, sounding far less stressed now.

We reached my car and faced each other to say goodbye.

"Thanks, Nicky," Misa said softly. Her features were more relaxed. The walk had soothed her a little.

"You’re looking better. Are you sure you’re ready to go home?" I asked one last time.

She opened her mouth, but no words came out. Instead, she simply smiled and looked away.

"Misa?" I frowned, unsure of how to help her anymore.

Her head turned back to me. She bit her lip, her eyes locking onto mine. Then she slowly stepped forward.

My brows lifted, and I froze in surprise as she took my hands in hers. I knew this was it—there was no escaping this time, and I didn’t give a damn.

I half-closed my eyes, my head slightly bowed as she leaned closer. My gaze stayed on her quivering lips as she neared mine. At last, she pressed her mouth to mine. I let out a short breath, surprised by the tenderness of her kiss. Her lips were soft, her movements slow.

I kissed her back, letting relief wash over me, completely surrendering myself as her taste and scent filled my senses. Our noses brushed against each other, and the grip of our hands tightened as we continued kissing softly, slowly.

Finally, she withdrew her lips from mine, a soft smile lingering on them, leaving me missing their touch instantly. My eyes couldn’t leave hers.

"I’m ready now," she whispered.

I exhaled and gave her a shy smile as she released my hands.

"Good night, Nicky."

She stepped back and turned away. I stayed frozen on the spot, my heart drumming in my chest, my gaze following her until she disappeared behind the birch trees growing between the parking spaces.

***

Aitana Bonmatí ran swiftly, skillfully dribbling past everyone who approached her. She prepared her strike and shot between Ivana and Olga toward the penalty area. The ball landed perfectly at Salma's feet, and she immediately sent a powerful kick toward the upper left corner of the goal. Misa leaped with all her strength, and the tips of her gloves deflected the ball, denying Barcelona another chance to score.

The match had been grueling and demanding from the very beginning. Barça had been pressing Real Madrid relentlessly, constantly cornering them near their penalty area. Misa had already made five incredible saves, but when Mariona Caldentey outpaced all the defenders for the third time and delivered a well-aimed pass to Caroline Graham Hansen, Misa had gone the wrong direction. The ball rolled effortlessly into the net. Misa swore, got up quickly, and sent a long clearance that Hayley skillfully recovered.

Hayley, a fast runner, sprinted forward and passed the ball to Athenea, who dribbled past Irene Paredes. Using a split second of disorganization, she found Linda. Linda’s header miraculously flew past the expert gloves of Cata Coll and crashed into the net, filling the stadium with an explosion of joy.

Returning from halftime, Barça pressed harder and harder but couldn’t score another goal. Thanks to a clever discussion in the locker room during the break, Real Madrid was holding their ground better than ever, with Misa’s numerous saves halting Barça’s brilliant sequences of passes.

Then the unbelievable happened in the 78th minute. Naomie managed to escape Alexia Putellas’ marker and intercepted a ball from Oihane’s throw-in. Her quick, arched pass found Olga on the left side. From a rather distant position, Olga unleashed a shot worthy of the World Cup. The ball soared straight into the upper-right corner, leaving Cata Coll helpless. The stadium erupted, Madrid players hugging in celebration of their first-ever lead over Barcelona.

In extra time, Misa’s body crashed onto the grass again after saving another strike from Salma. The Madrid players were visibly exhausted, their movements slowing, their feet barely making contact with the ball anymore.

As they all took their positions for the corner kick, Misa gave directions to her teammates, preparing herself for the next action. Salma struck, crossing the ball from the goal line. It descended perfectly onto Alexia’s feet, who sent it crashing into the net. Barcelona had equalized in the 95th minute, victory slipping away from the Madrid girls’ grasp. The match was headed into extra time, and I could see Misa’s frustration as she pounded the grass with her fists before rising to her feet. As well-trained as they were, the team looked drained, and with Barça clearly dominating, extra time was going to be a living nightmare.

Misa passed by me as she exited the tunnel, heading toward her goal after the short break. I snapped a photo of her face—a mix of deep concentration and extreme fatigue. My heart sank. I had been covering the match with other photographers from the start, struggling to focus on my job instead of the intense pressure mounting on Misa.

The game resumed. The Madrid team formed two compact lines in front of the goal. They had clear instructions: defend at all costs and allow no goals. This strategy, along with Ivana’s quick footwork, prevented another Barça attempt from finding the net. The only two shots Madrid managed were met by Cata’s gloves, her clearances swiftly returning the ball to Madrid’s half. But they held their ground, over and over, through the first half of extra time.

In the second half, fouls and cramps multiplied on both sides, disrupting the game and giving players unnecessary minor injuries. Misa’s attempt to grab a shot by Mariona sent her rolling to the ground, her knee colliding painfully with the goalpost. The ball luckily hit the crossbar and was cleared by Kathellen, but Misa stayed down, clutching her knee through the thick padding of her gloves.

I shuddered. No, please! Let it not be a serious injury! I silently prayed as the medical staff rushed to her. A cluster of teammates surrounded her, blocking my view of what was happening.

I waited, barely breathing, unable to look at the last picture I had taken of her curled up on the grass, her features distorted in pain. What felt like an eternity passed before the medics left, the small crowd dispersing to reveal Misa standing again. Though she was breathing heavily and limping slightly, she was back on her feet.

Relief washed over me.

Misa returned to her position in front of the goal but handed the ball to Ivana for a long clearance. It was clear she didn’t have the strength to keep up with the pace. The ball was back in her penalty area within moments, but Madrid had finally cracked the code to establish a solid defense.

When the final whistle blew, it was to end the match at last.

The penalty shootout would decide the winner of the Copa de la Reina. More than ever, the outcome rested squarely on Misa’s shoulders.

The goalkeeper huddled with her teammates and coach near the bench, their expressions a mix of determination and exhaustion. From where I stood, I caught Misa’s eye—or thought I did—and gave her a supportive smile, raising my fist in encouragement. But her focus was unshakable, her world narrowed entirely to the game.

Madrid opened the shootout with Olga. She stepped up confidently, struck the ball cleanly, and scored. Cheers erupted from the stands, Madrid fans roaring their approval.

Misa took her place on the line for her first challenge. Caroline Graham Hansen approached, poised and calm. She struck, and the ball soared past Misa into the net.

Next, Claudia fired a hard shot aimed at the right corner, but Cata had read her intentions perfectly. With a swift dive, she blocked it with precision. Barça's fans erupted in triumph, their cheers drowning out the groans from Madrid’s side.

Aitana scored. Athenea scored. Mariona scored. Hayley scored.

Now it came down to the final shot. Everything rested on Misa. If she couldn’t stop the next kick, it would all be over.

Alexia stepped up to the penalty spot, her face composed, her body radiating quiet confidence. She armed her leg, struck the ball, and sent it soaring into the top corner of the net.

That was it. Madrid had lost.

The Barcelona players exploded in celebration, rushing onto the pitch as Madrid’s players stood frozen in shock and heartbreak. My camera hung limply in my hands. I had forgotten to take pictures, unable to focus on anything but the figure of Misa lying on her back in front of the goal, her gloves covering her face.

As Barça celebrated, Alexia broke away from her teammates. She crouched at Misa’s side, murmuring words I couldn’t hear. Slowly, she helped Misa to her feet, removing her gloves with gentle hands. Misa’s face was streaked with tears, her swollen eyes shut as she sobbed quietly.

The two walked toward the tunnel together, Alexia’s arm draped protectively around Misa’s shoulders. One of the other photographers was snapping pictures relentlessly, the sound of his shutter cutting through the air.

A wave of anger surged through me.

I got up and closed the distance between myself and the man. "Give her a rest, okay?!" I snapped, my voice sharp and loud.

The man looked at me in astonishment, his blank expression suggesting he didn’t understand English.

Noticing the commotion, Misa and Alexia stopped a few steps away. Misa lowered her head, unable to meet my gaze. Alexia, on the other hand, looked at me kindly. Her guilt was evident, a silent acknowledgment that she had played a part in her friend’s pain.

"I can take her to the locker room if you want," I offered, surprising even myself with the words. My job had been the last thing on my mind.

Alexia turned to Misa, waiting for her approval. Misa hesitated for a moment before nodding.

I stepped forward, gently taking over from Alexia. Without a word, I guided Misa into the tunnel, her quiet sobs echoing faintly in the stillness of the corridor.

I made Misa sit on the farthest bench of the locker room. Everything was quiet here, the screeches of the celebration reduced to a distant echo. The goalkeeper had stopped crying. Her board shoulders and muscular body seemed fragile somehow. I took a seat beside her, unsure of what to do now it was up to me to comfort her. 

"I’m sorry," I said softly.

"We were so close!" she cried. "Let’s just go! I don’t want to be there, I don’t want the puta silver medal again!" She blew her nose hard and rubbed her red eyes with a towel lying nearby. Exhaustion oozed from her at every level. 

"No, Misa, you can’t go" I responded, catching a surprised side-eye, as surprise as she could be in her current state. "You can’t go because everything’s not about wining or being the best! Football doesn’t have to be about that. It’s not about the score, the cup or whatever. Football is an emotion, a battle, a shared experience. And first and foremost, it’s a spectacle, and you put on one hell of a show as a team and as a player tonight! If you leave, it would mean nothing remains. You have to go back, Misa." 

Silence settled between us. I felt exposed and embarrassed by the words I had just spoken. It was ridiculous to be saying something so obvious to a seasoned footballer when I was barely discovering the sport myself.

The goalkeeper exhaled deeply. "You lied to me," she said, confusing me. She chuckled softly. "You acted like you didn’t know a thing about football." She painfully stood up and gestured for me to do the same. "But you do," she added, smiling as we faced each other.

The tall woman pulled me into a hug, her head resting on my shoulder, and I held her tightly. I gently stroked her back. Her jersey was wet, and she clearly reeked of sweat, but I didn’t care. I just wanted us to stay like this, clinging to each other.

After a minute or so, we parted and smiled softly at each other. Despite her weariness, Misa seemed less drained. She was waiting for... something, her expectant gaze fixed on me. Her dimples returned with her grin, lighting up her tired face. I kept smiling, my mind racing to figure out what I should do, what I could do… what I wanted to do. When she thought I wouldn’t do anything, Misa’s smile faltered a little, and she began to turn away. 

"Misa, wait..." I grabbed her arm and pulled her back toward me. I caught a glimpse of her surprised yet eager expression before I kissed her.

I cupped her face, pressing my lips harder against hers. Misa let out a soft whimper, the sound setting my body ablaze. I slowly guided her backward until her back hit the locker room door. She gasped at the contact, one hand tangling in my hair while the other gripped the hem of my shirt. She parted her lips, and her taste filled me completely, drawing a moan from deep inside me.

Our heated kiss sharpened all my senses and turned my body into white-hot iron. My hand acted on its own, slipping under Misa’s jersey and gliding up her toned abs. She whimpered again, her fingers mirroring mine to touch the bare skin of my waist. Her soft, full lips moved over mine as our breathing turned erratic.

Fevered with desire, I let my hand drift down her stomach toward the waistband of her shorts. She groaned and suddenly froze.

"Wow! Nicky, wait..." she said, her voice gentle yet firm. I stopped abruptly as she took my face in her hands. "I need to go back," she said, her burning gaze locking onto mine.

 I exhaled, trying to tame the flames devouring my insides. 

"You have to go back," I repeated with a small smile. 

She placed a last kiss on my lips before leaving the room.

At that moment, Hell Clásico ended on a heavenly note.

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧ 

[grapejuice32]

Bored?

JJ Maybank x reader

You and JJ attend a party, a girl trying to flirt with him makes you jealous enough to prove to everyone that he’s yours.

notes: I'll try and catch up on updates and requests soon!

The two of you were at party, a mass text had been sent out about it and there was no way either of you would pass up on free alcohol. The two of you were a fairly new thing, JJ had never really dated anyone before and was just used to hook ups, and while you'd dated before, you'd never been official with anyone like you were with JJ. It was the first party the two of you were attending as a couple, and honestly, JJ was thrilled, he couldn't wait to show you off to everyone. He'd decided that the two of you could just go together and meet the rest of the pogues there, so that's what you'd done, he had picked you up on his bike, smelling like expensive cologne you were certain he has stolen at some point.

When you arrived, you were met with pounding music, the party was being held at some girl's house, you weren't entirely sure who she was but you weren't sure you or what was at least, a couple hundred other people, cared who was throwing the party, just that it was a Friday night and that there was alcohol. It'd taken JJ a few minutes to locate the others, stopping to get drinks for the both of you first, you made sure to stick relativelyclose by, not wanting to get lost in the sea of people, though you were sure JJ would find you in seconds in the case you did get lost among the sweaty bodies.

Not long after you got there, some girl, whose make up was down up as if she were attending the met gala, approached JJ, the two of you having momentarily moved away from the others for whatever reason, when you went to get a drink. She was quick to start flirting, placing her hand on his bicep when he payed her no attention, he had only pushed her off of him and ignored her advances. He had wanted for your return, not wanting to walk off and leave you stranded, when you had returned he'd placed a hand on your waist, his other holding a red solo cup of beer, and placed a kiss on your head. The blonde girl, who was obviously bitter about his rejection, glared at you, a sour look on her face. John B called JJ over and you just told JJ to go, that you'd be there in a minute, his pressed a short kiss to your lips and walked over to the others.

The girl's blue eyes travelled up and down your body, clearly judging everything about your body, your outfit and your style. When her eyes met your own, you offered her what was clearly a smile of faux kindness, she only scowled and stepped closer to you, " So, you're her."

"Her?" You asked innocently, tilting your head and raising your brows.

She scoffed, "You know what I mean," she took another step closer to you, her eyes making quick work of travelling over your figure again, "the girl who finally tied him down, it's never going to last. I mean," she moved her hand in a circular gesture in front of your face, "look at you. I mean, you're...nice looking, some might say, but none of that matters, you seem soft, too soft, he'll get bored."

"Oh really?" You quipped, sipping from your drink, "I mean, it's not really any of your business, is it?"

She laughed fakely, "Cute, his bitch has a bite to her. Do you seriously think you can keep his attention for that long? I mean, look at him," the both of you briefly looked over to JJ who was stood next to Pope, his head thrown back as he laughed, the vest he was wearing showing more than it concealed, "he'll get bored, mark my words."

A sigh left your lips and you ran your tongue over your teeth, "You wanna see bored?"

"What?" She frowned, clearly under the impression her words would have cause you to back down by now, "Is that a challenge or something?"

"Yes," your lips curled upwards, "yes it is."

"Alright," she composed herself, "go on. Show me how not bored his is with you."

You downed your drink and threw the red plastic cup at her feet, a smirk growing on your face as you walked over to JJ. You placed a hand on the sliver of his bare torso that was on display through the large cut-off sleeves of his vest. His attention was immediately on you, he threw his arm over your shoulder and pulled you into his side, kissing the top off your head and then pulling back to take a sip of his beer. The weight of his toned arm over your shoulder was a reminder that he was yours, but you weren't one to back down from a challenge.

You took some steps back, JJ following after you, the two of you now in the dark corner of the room, separated from the others who were closer to the main gathering of sweaty people dancing and grinding on each other. JJ's back was pressed against the wall, both his arms thrown over your shoulders, one of his hands still holding a mostly empty cup of warm beer. "What's up, mama? Hm?"

"Wanna make you feel good, J." You murmured, looking up at his face, his features highlighted by the blue lights in the room. On of your hands remained on the bare skin of his torso, the other grabbing onto the belt loop of his shorts.

He chuckled, tilting his head down so your foreheads were nearly touching, strands of his hair curling in front of his eyes. "Oh yeah, right here in front of all these people." The corner of his lips quirked up, he glanced over your shoulder, clearly cocking the blonde girl who had her eyes on the two of you, her jaw clenched, "You tryn'a prove a point, huh baby?" He asked as if he didn't already know the answer, bent his neck to press a kiss to your exposed shoulder, "Is someone jealous, hm?"

"Yes, want everyone here to know that you're mine just as much as I'm yours." You too him honestly, tugging at his belt loop, pulling his hips closer to you.

Another chuckle left his lips and he pulled back from your shoulder to lean his forehead against your own, "Go on then, prove your point."

Your hand instantly left his belt loop, making quick work to unbutton his shorts and slip your hand under the waistband of his boxers, your fingers wrapping around his already hardened length.You slowly pumped you hand the way you knew he liked, a low groan left his lips and he threw his head back. Your eyes were locked on the way his adams apple bobbed when he swallowed a moan, you pushed forwards and began to suck at his neck, desperate to leave your mark while you continued to mike your hand back and forth.

"Fuck," he gasped, his hips bucking slightly to meet the movements of your hand.

A pleased grin was on your lips as your lips detached from his neck, a prominent mark already developing. JJ's lips were parted as pants that bordered on the line of moans escaped him "What, you close already? You like knowing that someone could see?" You asked, knowing all too well that he liked it.

He looked back down at you, a light layer of sweat present on his forehead, "Fuck, you're so hot, mama." He all but moaned before capturing your lips with his own, pulling away all too soon to bury his face in you neck as a moan left his lips, his body stiffening as he finished in your hand. You smiled in satisfaction, slipping your hand out of his trousers, JJ pulled back from you and watched as you brought your hand to your mouth, cleaning off your fingers. He shook his head, as you dropped your hand from your mouth, and pressed his lips back to yours, kissing you as though he had been deprived of the feeling of your lips against his.

You faintly head the sound of him dropping his cup, his arms moving off of your shoulders so that he could grip your hips, pulling you in closer, your chest pressed against him. He broke from your lips, trailing kisses along your jaw to nip at your earlobe, "You're so good t'me, " he mumbled, "are you satisfied now? Hm?"

"Yo, J!" John B yelled over at the two of you in amusement, "Get a room, man."

The two of you pulled apart, laughing in slight embarrassment, "C'mon," JJ nodded over in the direction of the group and stepped away from you, swinging an arm back over your shoulder and leading the both of you back in the direction of the others.

When the two of you go there, you were met with various looks of disgust and amusement, "That was nasty, I hope you know that," Sarah commented, her nose turned up, Pope nodding in agreement.

You excused yourself to go and get drinks for yourself and JJ, you brushed passed the blonde girl who was stood there with a hateful look on her face, but you could only smile smugly, leaning in, your mouth near her ear, "How's that for bored?"

Please lmk what you guys think, I'd love to hear from you! I'll also be happy to try and write any requests you may have <3

[bettydice]

#34 Stars for Solavellan :D

She hears him approach and doesn’t wait until she sees him to move slightly to the right, so he can sit down next to her, if he so chooses. He does not, not immediately. Instead, Solas stops a few steps away from her, keeping a polite distance. “May I join you?” Mango almost rolls her eyes at him, but restrains herself, when she sees the soft smile on his face. “You don’t have to ask, you know?” She pats the spot next to her. “I would not want to presume.” Solas sits down, thankfully leaving politeness behind, so that their bodies are touching, and he takes her hand.

“Mhm, you have my explicit permission to do so. In fact,” Mango interlaces their fingers, “I’d very much like it, if you did.”

She feels a rare stab of embarrassment after she says it, her heart not used to Mango pulling such private wants to the surface. She decides to let Solas see both her embarrassment and her want, her need, for him to cross that boundary between ‘Inquisitor’ and ‘Mango’ unasked.

He holds her gaze for four heartbeats, as always full of gentleness and understanding, then lifts their entwined hands and presses a kiss to the back of hers. “I can do that.”

With her free hand, she pulls him close, so their lips can meet. It has only been a few weeks since Solas let go of whatever concerns had been holding him back, and they don’t get moments like these as often as she’d like, but already their intimacy feels so familiar. There’s so much they have yet to experience together, so much they don’t know about each other, but there are neither questions nor doubts in their kisses.

Solas breaks the kiss, pulls back a little to smile at her. “This is not the reason I came here for.”

“And that is no reason to stop.”

“True enough. And now I certainly intend to resume this later. But first…” He pulls a small jar from the leather pouch on his belt - the jar that holds the ointment she uses on her left hand.

Mango leans back against the rock and fully relaxes her hand in his grip, while he massages the ointment into her skin. It helps with the terrible dryness, even if it cannot stop her skin from always feeling too tight, as though it doesn’t belong to her and is sitting on the wrong hand.

“Is this a different one? It smells… much nicer.” Lavender, very obviously, and something else she can’t pinpoint.

“I may have made some suggestions to the apothecary. I’m glad you’re pleased with the result.”

“I really am. Thank you, Solas.”

He hums in acknowledgement, then presses his fingertips deep into the heel of her hand.

“Oh.” Mango closes her eyes and sighs. “After trudging through the sand all day, I think my legs could use the same treatment.”

Solas’ fingers stop their movement, close to her pulse point. “Would you… want me to be presumptuous about that?”

A quiet laugh escapes her, and she opens her eyes to look at him. "Yes.”

He lifts his eyes to hers, gaze more intense this time, and resumes his massage. “I’ll try to respect your wishes, then.”

She is tempted to get up immediately and take him to her - their - tent, but her legs do really feel terribly sore. And it is blissfully quiet here, and the desert looks so beautiful in the moonlight.

She laughs again and the charged moment passes.

“You must be looking forward to visiting the Fade tonight - new places to explore.”

Solas huffs. “There is nothing on this side of the Veil, I’m not confident the other side will have more to show.”

“It wasn’t always nothing.”

His eyebrows draw together for a moment, the corners of his mouth turn downwards. He looks sad, not displeased. “… Yes. You’re quite right about that.”

“May I join you tonight? In the Fade? If there’s nothing to find… well, I can think of a few things to do instead.”

Solas laughs then and kisses her hand once more - this time, to signify the end of the massage. “Alright. I’ll come and find you then, Vhenan.”

“Please do.” Mango lifts her right hand and caresses his cheek. “But if you don’t mind staying on this side a bit longer… ”

Solas embraces her tightly and gives her a kiss that is only for her, that is an answer to everything she has wanted from him, a kiss that leaves no boundaries between them.

For a little while she is just Mango, kissing her lover in the moonlight, surrounded by peaceful nothingness.

[heeheesang]

༉‧₊˚. 𝐚𝐟 — yn it girl era ?!

warnings ! drunk yn , slightly suggestive texts !

“ WE CAN LITERALLY DO THIS , WHY ARE WE NERVOUS ?! “ KARINA PANICKED AS SHE PACED AROUND THE GREEN ROOM . I SIGHED AT THE LEADER’S SUDDEN OUTBURST OF PANIC AS I STOOD UP AND HELD HER ARM , “ WE HAVE TO GO SOON , WE CAN DO THIS ! “

she relaxed a little, releasing the tension in her body as she let out a sigh, “i just… i’m worried for you yn. for all we know, the haters could’ve been waiting for this moment.” she said as i softened and hugged her, “i’ll be fine, okay? trust me! now, we have a show to kill!”

the members let out a soft laugh, doing a small group hug before the director barged into our room. “aespa? you will be doing the interview soon, please get ready ~” he said as we all hummed in response. we did a short group cheer as we stepped out, greeting the emcees— hanbin, sohee and jaehyun.

“yn noona!” sohee yelled as his fans giggled at his cute behaviour. i smiled and side hugged him before getting into position. while waiting for the other group to arrive, we interacted with the fans. “you’re so pretty!” one of them yelled as the four of us giggled and thanked them.

soon enough, the other group stepped in and greeted the fans. i almost broke into a fit of laughter when i saw riize step in, making eye contact with eunseok as he waved at me, causing the fans to coo at our interactions.

we were placed into positions later on, karina and giselle on the lower steps while winter and i were on the slightly higher steps. riize were also put into positions— wonbin, shotaro and sohee on the lower steps while eunseok, anton and sungchan were on the same level steps as us. at first, anton was next to me but eunseok was placed next to me instead.

“behave.” i muttered under my breath as he rolled his eyes, suddenly playing with my hand as he drew little circles on it. as soon as the interview started, eunseok let go of my hand and did his group greeting, so did i. but as soon as we were done with introductions, he took my hand in his and drew circles once again.

“could we do the main point dance?” jaehyun asked as my members looked at me, “me?” i asked and pointed to myself as karina nodded. i rolled my eyes playfully, i wasn’t the main dancer or anything but they loved to tease me, just because i was the youngest of the group…

i retracted my hand from eunseok as i slowly stepped up beside jaehyun, going through the dance with him as soon we did the challenge. my members and riize were cheering as the song slowly came to an end. i bowed and clapped for jaehyun before he asked me to pick a sticker for him.

“hmm… you weren’t cute, but! i would say it’s cool~” i teased as i passed him the sticker with words written ‘cool’ on it. as soon as i stepped back on the stage, eunseok grabbed my hand once again but intertwined it this time.

my eyes widened as i lowkey looked down to hide my blush, he giggled before going down to do his part of the dance. we all cheered as soon the interview came to an end, i walked behind my members with riize walking behind as i smiled at the group of fans infront of us.

“you’re so pretty ynie!” one of them said as they handed me a letter. i blushed and bowed before walking off, thanks to wonbin pushing me.

“yn! yn!” one of them yelled but i couldn’t see who due to the amount of light being shined down. “yeah?” i yelled back. “do the boom boom bass challenge!!” i chuckled at the comment, soon wonbin yelling from behind me, “should we?!”

that’s not wonbin. i turned around to see eunseok looking down on me with a bright smile, earning screams from the fans as we walked back to our green rooms.

“you should really do the boom boom bass challenge, yn..”

“gigi, i love you. but shut up!”

⤶ back | mlist | next ⤷

༉‧₊˚. 𝐚𝐟 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ( leave a 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 or an 𝒂𝒔𝒌 below 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 added !! )

➛ @dorritoni @sqh3e @antosaurius @mivqko @yyangj3lly

༉‧₊˚. 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

➛ @hooneverse @sol3chu @yourssincerely-mimi @reikaxslvr @petralovesbonedo @enhabooks @mwahvvis @jaerisdiction @jeonginontopforever @miukidoll

hhs' notes ! ── .✦ second last chapter :3

[scripts4dreamers]

Leave a light on pt. 6

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five

Whatever she had been imagining, the prison of regret was ten times worse. It had taken conspicuously little power for Solas to open a door into the pocket dimension that was the prison and so their journey from the lighthouse was quick and painless. After all, the prison was designed to keep people like them in, not out.

People like them.

Amala shivered. It was cold in the prison, and unsettling, and dreary. The atmosphere made her feel as though she were being watched, as though the eyes of history itself were bearing down on her, eager to pick her to pieces and cast its judgment.

She looked up at Solas, his hand clasped in hers, warm and firm and real. She saw his anguish. His eyes were darting around, his breath was shallow and her resolve hardened.

“It’s going to be okay,” she whispered, even though there was no one around, “we’ll get through this.”

He tore his gaze away from the hated place, his whole body relaxing when he was reminded that she was with him.

“I know we will, Vhenan,” he promised, looking back up, “The question is where to start.”

The prison was a twisting, ephemeral maze of crumbling platforms, corridors to nowhere and staircases that bent over on themselves in ways that shouldn’t have been physically possible. It looked designed to tear you down, to whittle away your stamina and hope, keeping you frustrated at all times. There was no clear start and no clear end, just endless grey. Her chest pinched. Still, trying to be brave, Amala pointed to a spot northwest of where they were standing.

“What about th-”

Before she could finish the sentence the world exploded in a flash of stark light. She felt herself be ripped forward with brutal force. It felt like space twisted and contracted around her, crushing the air from her lungs. Just when she thought she might pass out she was flung down onto the stones, where she lay in a crumpled heap, dizzy and heaving. Her head was ringing. There were spots of light flashing in her eyes and everything felt…fuzzy. She clenched her hand and felt nothing.

“Solas?” she mumbled, forcing herself slowly to her feet as her head throbbed, “Solas?”

She looked around. She was alone on a crumbling grey island.

“Solas!” She shouted, feeling her already very thin veil of composure fraying, “Solas, where are you?”

There was no reply. No sound at all, not even the echo of the wind served as a response. The panic was almost choking her now. She searched the landscape with her eyes for any hint of the familiar tall figure, but was met with endless fields of grey. Slowly, as she searched, the reality of her situation sunk in. She was in a prison built from regret, and she was alone.

“Fenhedis,” she shouted, her fists clenched with rage.

She kicked at a nearby chunk of gravel, feeling a sense of grim satisfaction when it shot into a pillar and shattered. Her head ached. She could feel bruises forming on her elbows and shoulder blades. She was sore and fed up and afraid and she was alone. She was never supposed to be alone, that wasn’t the plan.

“Since when do our plans ever actually go to plan, hey Mol?”

She spun around, a combination of shock and elation shooting through her like an arrow.

“Varric?” She called.

“Woah, no need to yell, I’m right here.”

Amala turned again, letting out a sound that was somewhere between a gasp and a sigh when she saw her old friend Varric Tethras standing before her. He looked just how she remembered him, his long hair loose around his shoulders, Bianca strapped to his back and a look of casual roguish charm on his face. The sight of him soothed something in her and suddenly, rather than being on the verge of a panic attack, Amala was almost calm. Varric was here. Everything was going to be alright.

“Varric,” she said with relief, “I thought-”

The words died in her throat and the momentary rush of calm was swallowed by pain. Something must have shown in her face because Varric raised his arms apologetically.

“Don’t shoot the messenger, Inquisitor. I didn’t ask for this either.”

“You’re dead,” she said, just to hear the words, “you’re not really here to help me because you’re dead. Solas killed you.”

“Accidentally,” Not Varric corrected, “but yeah. Sorry about that. I am here to help though. It’s why you brought me here.”

She shook her head, hating herself for the awful empty feeling that was opening in her chest. Hating the hot prick of tears in her eyes and the way her throat started to close like she was going to cry. Regret prisons. Never underestimate the cruelty of them.

“I didn’t bring you here. How can you help me?” she asked, surprising herself with how cold her voice sounded, “you’re gone. You’re not here.”

“But I was here for Rook,” he answered, “and most of the things you know about this place, you know from them. This may be a hell prison built by a tricky bastard, but it’s still the fade. It’s still going to warp itself in line with your expectations.”

Her shoulders loosened, the veneer of toughness cracking as a sliver of understanding wormed its way in.

“So, because on some level I expected you to be here…”

He spread his arms, pride sparkling in his warm eyes, “I’m here. See, I knew you’d get there.” He waved her over and started walking, “Now come on, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover, and I’m worried that if we leave that boyfriend of yours alone for too long he’ll go back to wanting to blow up the world.”

“Solas wouldn’t-”

“Mol, I’m a figment of your imagination and memories. If I’m saying it, at least some part of you is thinking it.”

“Or thinking you would be thinking it.” she pointed out.

“Now that’s the kind of thinking we need in a place like this.” He replied, shooting her a wink.

“We should say thinking more,” she teased.

Varric sighed, “Remind me why I’ve missed your dumb ass again?”

She shrugged, feeling comforted despite herself, “Beats me.”

He let out a low, familiar chuckle and the sound made her heart hurt so badly that Amala physically stopped walking and pressed her hand to her chest. Memories of long days trekking through the Western Approach flashed before her eyes, endless games of Wicked Grace, firm pats on the back whenever things became too much, and stories traded around makeshift campfires. Varric Tethras, the consummate storyteller and showman, weeping in a backroom where he thought no one could hear him when she came back from the fade and Hawke didn’t. She remembered how he’d never blamed her, how he’d quietly thanked Andraste for her safety even as his heart was breaking, how he’d kept up a brave face, only letting his true feelings show in the darkest, coldest hours of the night.

She would never get the chance to apologise, to thank him for his kindness, to tell him she liked his new novel, to just talk to him again. An eternity without Varric Tethras stretched out before her, a yawning, gaping maw she couldn’t hope to escape. Amala knew, better than most, that grief comes in waves and right then she felt like she was staring up at a tsunami waiting to bear down on her and crush her into dust.

“Not the time, kid,” Not Varric said gently, reaching up to give her shoulder a comforting squeeze, “you and I will have our chance to hash it out later.”

“Promise?” she asked with a rueful smile.

He didn’t respond. Luckily, or unluckily, she was extremely practiced at shoving her feelings aside to focus on the larger cause. As the pair navigated the endless, barren landscape together, Amala distracted herself by sifting through the memories of her life, wondering what she might be forced to face, which of her many scars would be sliced open again. It was pointless to wonder but, as the oppressive atmosphere started to weigh on her, and it started to feel like she was wading through a thick bog, she couldn’t stop herself. If Not Varric noticed her discomfort he made no indication of it and they continued on in companionable silence.

They walked together for an indeterminate amount of time before something changed. It started with a breeze. An icy breeze that cut to the bone. Amala noticed her breath coming out as steam and, as she stopped walking and looked around, she noticed that they were no longer alone. Instead, they stood at the base of a snowy hill. It looked like a giant anthill. Hints of wooden spikes poked through the snow here and there, there was the idea of a gate, a path with towering walls of snow on either side and everywhere else, statues. Hundreds of statues. Thousands of statues all facing them with blank, unseeing eyes. Most of the forms were humanoid but some were warped and twisted with large stone shards jutting out of misshapen bodies, gruesome and familiar in a way that made her hands fly immediately to the knives on her belt.

“Are those-” Not Varric asked.

“Red templars.” she agreed.

“And that makes this place-”

“Haven.”

As soon as the words had left her lips, she knew they were true. She could make out the shape of familiar buildings beneath the snow and the path, the one they were clearly supposed to walk through, was one she had walked a thousand times, going from the gate to the Chantry. Only there was no Chantry. Not anymore. They would have to walk the path with the statues bearing down on them like gargoyles to get wherever the prison was sending them. Being so exposed made her teeth itch. Slowly, as they walked, Amala gave in to her fear, unsheathing her daggers and settling into something like a combat crouch. She would do as the prison wanted, but she would also be prepared for anything.

“You buried us,” the templar statues spoke in grating, bellowing unison, “lost in the dark, in the cold. Our bodies burned from the lyrium, devouring us from the inside.” As Amala and Not Varric forged ahead the statues turned to face them with accusing eyes, “We knew not what we were doing. Following orders. One foot in front of the other. You buried us under the mountain. We were crushed. We were suffocated. We froze to death even as we clawed our way to the light.”

Amala closed her eyes, breathing deep to steady herself against the pang of guilt in her chest, “You were doomed the moment you started ingesting the red lyrium. It is Corypheus and your Commanders that are to blame for your deaths. They sent you here to destroy this town and kill the people under my protection.”

“You started the avalanche,” they replied, thousands of voices overlapping to form a cacophony echoing against the walls of compacted snow, “we died alone, in agony and afraid because of you.”

“We died for you,” new voices echoed, “We fought for you. We believed in you. You buried us just the same.”

They were nearly halfway up the path now and her chest was tightening with the horror of it all. The wind bit into her exposed skin. The metal of her knives grew colder and colder. They were Inquisition soldiers. Those that had been too injured to make it back to the Chantry, those who had been too low when the second avalanche was triggered. Cullen had never explicitly told her, but she knew they existed. She knew what she had done to them.

Another pang of sorrow, “I never wanted anyone to die for me,” she said, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you all, but I had to make a choice. I had to do what I could to save Haven and then, when that failed, to save our people.”

“And you failed at that as well,” another familiar voice said.

She stopped dead in her tracks. There was a statue on the path before her, painfully lifelike, standing at attention, her stone eyes fixed on Amala.

“Flissa,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

The beautiful, clever, friendly barkeeper. The one who had been so kind to Amala, who had always greeted her, always stood up for her, who had never let anyone call her a knife-ear. She had spent so many nights in Flissa’s tavern, traded stories with her, shared jokes over ice cold pints. There were others gathered behind her as well. Men, women and children who she had known in Haven, those who had been killed by the Templars or were too weak to survive the trip to Skyhold. Innocent people who had died all because Amala Lavellan brought war to their doorstep.

“I believed in you,” Flissa’s voice echoed, “even as the building was burning down around me, even as I heard the templars closing in. Do you know what my last words were?”

Amala instinctively took a step back, fighting the urge to cover her ears as the guilt rolled over her in waves.

“The Herald will save us,” she continued, “that’s what I said. I swore you would come for us and yet…”

“Flissa-”

“You just ran right past me. You left me to die, Herald.”

“I didn’t mean-”

“You’re a failure,” the voices called in ghostly, tormenting unison, “You failed us.”

Amala shook her head, her mind twisting and stumbling over itself as she tried to formulate any sort of coherent response.

“It was chaos,” she started, “there were too many-Haven had no defenses-” she looked up at the statues that surrounded her, taking note of their faces and burning them into her mind, “It was an impossible situation. I made the best choice-the only choice-I could in the moment.”

“Who gave you the right?”

“Somebody had to make the call or every single one of us would have died,” she insisted, feeling the slightest bit of strength flow back into her, remembering the faces of all the people she did save, all the lives that weren’t lost, “I am so sorry that I couldn’t save all of you. Flissa, I-” her voice cracked, “you needed a divine herald, and all you got was me. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to do more, but I won’t be held responsible for Corypheus’ mistakes. He brought war to Haven. He brought death. It is him who should pay the price.”

There was a moment’s silence.

“And he did,” Flissa said, “you put an end to his scheming, to his murderous plans. You avenged Haven.”

“We are free from our suffering,” A red templar agreed, “we can be used no longer.”

“Pass,” Flissa said, “and do not allow our sacrifice to be forgotten.”

The statues didn’t move, per say. One moment they were there and the next…Amala and Not Varric were alone atop a snow covered hill with not even a footprint to mark the statues’ departure. For her part, Amala felt like someone had reached into her chest and scooped her insides out. She was left with nothing but a hollow ache and the promise that more pain was to come.

Not Varric whistled, “Damn, that was some heavy stuff. You need a minute?”

She shook her head, hastily wiping away the few stray tears that had fallen and frozen on her cheeks, “Let’s just keep moving.”

He sighed, “Whatever you say, boss.”

[maxlarens]

absolutely fuck off. i walked out of the back room at my job and i have to pass the change rooms. some customer just tried to stop me to get me to do something for her. like please sweetheart. i have over ear headphones on and my phone is visibly out and on!! i am NOT WORKING!!!😭

[chuluoyi]

✎ baby to the rescue

- gojo satoru x reader

in which gojo recruits your baby son to “save” you from a credit card salesman

genre: immense fluff !! baby gojo and dad!gojo shenanigans~

note: based on this and this reel. with this i hereby declare that anything past chapter 235 is null and void HAHA anyway, i truly want to post remarried empress au by this week but since 261 leaks hurt me so much, i need more fluff so have to postpone it to next week :') tagging @karikari19hikariiii <3

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

Your husband Gojo Satoru... is handsome as hell, which means your baby son is also undeniably good-looking.

"Why do you pout at me?" Satoru poked his squirming baby's cheek while pursing his lips too. "C'mon, smile! That auntie is smiling at you!"

Everyone who passed by them in Shinjuku shopping district turned heads to admire him and his pumpkin just a little longer, and Satoru visibly enjoyed the attention. He smiled back at them, occasionally winking even.

If only they knew how pretty his wife was too...

Wait, no! On second thought, if they know how hot you are, there will be problems!

You had left him to go to the nearest pharmacy to restock some things, while Satoru decided to entertain his baby in the toy section. He basked in the starry-eyed looks people were giving him... until he heard some strange sounds and turned to his baby boy—

—who was chewing the beak of a duck toy with all his might. Satoru was mortified.

"—! Let that go! Your mama will beat me if she sees you eating this!"

Your baby paid him no mind though, desperately pushing the duck into his mouth. Satoru sat him on one of the empty racks and began the tug of war—

"Let go!" he reprimanded. "You're so naughty, gods—!"

Some people were now openly giggling at both of them. His son tried to resist by rolling, and Satoru clicked his tongue. He then yanked the toy away until his baby finally let it go, sniffling sadly that his papa wouldn't let him have the duck.

"Oh, you..." he picked him up again and consoled the pumpkin. "You can't do that, you hear? First, it's not clean. Second, mama will grow two heads to chew you and me both, understand?"

No, your son totally didn't understand a thing. Satoru sighed, seeing his little blue eyes welling up with tears. He ruffled his head and pulled him close. "There, there... I'll get you ice cream, okay? Now let's go."

Satoru was determined to turn his son back into a smiling, happy baby. But just as he was about to head towards the ice cream parlor, he encountered the most unbelievable sight—

"Miss! I guarantee you'll love this credit card features!"

You. That was clearly you, and a salesman (or a bozo, in Satoru's eyes) was trying to bother you.

You raised an eyebrow. "Uh, no— thank you—"

Yet the bozo was still persistent, like the pesky fly he was. "You can use it to pay for your monthly beauty treatments! Someone as pretty as you..." He eyed you from head to toe, blinking suggestively. "Oh my! Your skin is flawless! You have to maintain it this way! I can also give you recommendations for—"

You were wearing a flare dress that made you look so young and petite, and obviously, Satoru too was lusting after you. And true, your skin was smooth like a soft serve of mochi, but still!

You are meant for him and his eyes only! Oho, this bozo would get heavenly punishment.

He had to get to you somehow, but this was public space and if he cooked up some sort of shenanigan, you would put him in sex ban. I can't have that! so Satoru wracked his brain to think of another way...

Once again, his gaze fell on his now calm baby, who was also looking at his mama over there with utter curiosity. And an idea immediately popped up in his mind.

"Hey, kiddo, look at that, a bad man is trying to take your mama," Satoru nudged him as if trying to egg him on. "We can't let that happen. Will you help me to save her, hmm?"

"Mama..." your baby looked back at him so innocently before smiling. "Mamaaa!"

"Good boy." Gods, his baby was so adorable, he almost felt bad for doing this but...

Swallowing his guilt, thinking he would make it up later, he pinched his son's butt a little too firmly—

"WAAAA!" and suddenly, the little boy burst into tears, and even Satoru was surprised by the sheer volume of his wail.

The sudden inconsolable sound of your baby sent you scrambling in panic, your eyes wildly searching for him, completely disregarding the credit card man. "My baby!"

"Eh?" the credit card man was visibly surprised. "Oh... so, you're married...?"

You immediately made your way towards Satoru and snatched your baby from him, hugging him tightly. "Oh, there, there... What happened to you?" you shot your husband a distaste look as your son kept wailing. "Satoru, why is he crying?"

He nonchalantly shrugged. "Maybe missing his mama? Dunno~"

By now, you had completely forgotten the credit card bozo, but he still looked at the three of you in mild surprise. Satoru took this chance to approach him and whisper in his ear:

"You see, my wife doesn't need your credit card," he whistled. "My cards or lumpsum money will do more than enough."

After seeing how pale the bozo looked, Satoru chuckled darkly... before leading you and your son away from the crowd, with one arm possessively around your waist.

Epilogue

"I'm sorry— I'm sorry, okay!?"

Satoru looked down at his son in utter hopelessness, as the little boy refused to be held by him, looking at him with teary, resentful eyes, and backing away from him in his playpen.

Can babies hold a grudge? Satoru didn't know, but his son definitely was not happy with him, and he couldn't think of any other explanation other than his sin against him back this afternoon.

"I've bought you mochi ice cream!" he opened his palm to reveal the treat. "Don't you want some? Papa will give you some, yeah?"

Baby looked skeptical now, and at that moment, he resembled you so much—accusing eyes, pursed lips, exactly like the expression you would pull when you were unsure of what Satoru might do next. He almost chuckled at the resemblance, feeling giddy.

"C'mon, forgive me, yeah?" he patted his son's little beanie and offered his hand for him to take, eyes crinkling in fondness. "Now, here comes your treat, come closer?"

Your baby crawled closer, seemingly accepting him, and Satoru was all smiles, until—

Whack!

It happened in a flash. He could have avoided it, but he was too taken aback. The pain exploded in his jaw, so intense that he grunted loudly.

"What the—?! You... you—! You kicked me— in the face!"

[nanaslutt]

my pretty little wife

ʚ incl: nanami x reader x higuruma

ʚ cont: fem reader, threesome, oral (f!r), double penetration, praise, dirty talk, teasing, pet names (sweetheart, honey), established relationship

ʚ note: the winner of my fic give away @reivunzwho i hope you enjoy!! >.<

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

“How did you two meet?” Higuruma asked, caressing your thigh with his thumb. The sensation sent tingles down your spine, making you all too aware of your body.

“We uh, we went to the same Jujutsu Tech school.” You answered.

“She was one year my junior.” Nanami answered from behind. You nodded, lips parting when his hand curled around your hip.

Higuruma grabbed your chin, tilting your gaze upwards and away from the large hands caressing your body. “Such a small world, isn’t it?” He asked you, smirking at the lust in your eyes.

Higuruma was never one to bring friends home after work, but the new guy at the office–Nanami Kento, was too similar in personality to pass up a friendship with. The two had been going for drinks every couple days, and when you texted Higuruma telling him you missed him and wanted him near, he decided to bring the drinks home.

Unbeknownst to you, the Nanami he was bringing home was the same Nanami you had a crush on in all four years of school. Never was anything acted upon, but you had spent more than a single night fantasizing about the man who currently held you between his legs, his chest to your back.

He was so much larger than he was all those years ago. Even his hands had grown for christ sake, and all of it was too much.

“What was she like as a student?” Higuruma asked, deft fingers working on the buttons of your shirt. He spoke to Nanami over his shoulder like he wasn’t currently undressing you.

Nanami hummed thoughtfully, hands slipping along your thigh, using a single finger to drag the skirt upwards. His touch burned your skin, goosebumps rising in his wake. “A troublemaker, and a bit of a headache–but good.” He answered, “strong, she always carried the burden of the others around her.”

A warm buzz hummed through your body at the praise. You hardly realized your bra covered breasts were out now as Higuruma dragged your shirt down your arms. 

Nanami made a sound behind you that made you preen. “So beautiful.” You gasped at the closeness, not realizing he had gotten so close. “Even more distracting than before.”

His words made you give pause. You didn’t think Nanami cared about anything other than going to classes and doing lessons. But he noticed you? A heady rush raced to your head.

“She is a beautiful thing, isn’t she?” Higuruma agreed, reaching behind you to unclasp your bra with practiced ease. You sighed when you felt the tension around your torso release, your breasts free. “I am so lucky to have such a strong, beautiful wife to come home to every night, and wake up to every morning.” He bragged.

Nanami hummed, agreeing. His hands had reached the tops of your thighs now, and he gripped the tops on either of them and parted them with ease. “Yes, she is very reactive as well.”

Higuruma smiled proudly, sliding your bra down your arms and exposing your breasts. His eyes fell to the mounds, admiring them with lust and love in his eyes. “Do you want to show him how reactive you are for me, sweetheart?” He asked.

Your throat bobbed, but you nodded. A smile found his lips. “And is he allowed to touch? Are you comfortable with that?”

You nodded again.

A kiss was placed by your ear, and you gasped. “Tell me to stop at any time, and I will. I would never want to make you uncomfortable.” With your given consent, his hands slid under your thighs and cradled them, causing you to fall back in his arms when he leaned back with your legs spread, exposing you.

Your hands shot out behind you, gripping his forearms. “Fuck, sorry.”

You could hear the smile in Nanami’s voice when he spoke, “you can touch me, too, honey.” That nickname from his lips. You felt liquid heat pool behind your panties.

The familiar feel of Higuruma’s hands on you made you look between your too spread thighs, spread over Kento’s knees. Hiromi was on his stomach on the couch, jacket discarded and his undershirt unbuttoned to the third, exposing his muscled chest. His eyes looked behind you at Nanami, “You will never see a prettier cunt, Kento.” He promised.

You held your breath as he hooked his fingers in your panties and pulled them down, exposing you for the both of them bit by bit. Nanami groaned behind you, looking over your shoulder while simultaneously spreading your legs more. “Fuck…” He cursed quietly, but you felt the heat of it on the side of your face. “Spread her lips for me.”

Higurma did, using his thumbs to open you up. The expression on his face was clouded, lust filled, his eyes were low and his face was flushed, he looked like he did before he came. This was clearly working him up as much as it was you.

“Taste her, taste her pretty pussy and tell me it’s as sweet as it looks.” Nanami’s voice saying such vulgar words should be a sin, it certainly felt like it. You arched your back into him, squeezing around nothing when you felt the proof of his arousal under you. It felt big.

Higuruma stuck out his tongue dramatically, looking at you from under his long dark lashes before his tongue found your clit. You sucked in a sharp breath when he flattened his tongue and shook his head back and forth, lavishing your clit with attention before his plush lips wrapped around the bud and he sucked–hard.

You cried, turned your head to Nanami’s neck and screamed. He grunted when you wiggled on him, unable to handle the onslaught of pleasure. “You really should stop moving.” He whispered. “How is he meant to eat properly if you keep moving around?”

You gasped, looking up at him. The tips of his ears were red. “It feels so good.” You cried.

He nodded, leaning down, hovering his lips over yours. Your cunt pulsed at the closeness, and wetness dripped onto the eager tongue between your legs, which was lapped up with an eager moan. “I know it does, sweetheart, he looks good with his tongue. Would a kiss make it better? Would it distract you from his tongue ravishing you?”

God his words. You hardly got the first nod out before his lips were on yours. You expected his kiss to be slow and passionate, but he was rushed and you could taste the arousal in his kiss. Two tongues lashed between your lips, dizzying you.

Nanami grunted against your lips, and his hands tightened under your thighs. You were about to pull away when you felt something wet and hard hit your bare thigh.

“Don’t stop.” Higuruma ordered, voice heady. “Good girl, keep sucking his tongue. Yes… Yes, that's it.” Something pressed against your entrance, something big.

“Higuruma-” Nanami gasped between kisses. 

Your husband shushed him, and you tightened your entrance when you felt the head of a cock against it. “I know how bad you want this.” He said, “please her, please my wife from the inside while I suck her pretty clit.”

Nanami was breathing heavier against you now, his back rising and falling quickly. You shuttered when his cock was pushed inside you–what felt like five inches shoving in all at once before the rest of him slid in more gradually. The both of you groaned simultaneously at the intrusion, and Nanami thrust his hips up, pressing himself balls deep against you.

The pressure was intense, it felt like someone was pushing your stomach from the inside. But he was also pressing on a sweet spot inside you that made your eyes roll to the back of your head. “My dreams paled in comparison to how amazing you feel.” Nanami groaned against you. “So tight, honey, you feel perfect.

Higruma groaned, and you whined when his lips suctioned around your clit again, before he popped off just as quickly. “I changed my mind.” He said. 

Nanami’s lips disconnected from yours, and you leaned in to kiss Higuruma. Nanami was still inside you, but you could feel him twitch and throb against your walls with need. You tasted yourself on your husband's tongue, moaning with him before he pulled away and looked at you with the most loving expression.

The clinking of a belt made you turn your gaze down, to where he was undoing his belt with a single hand. “Do you think you can take us both?” He asked, “in here?” he tapped your clit before rubbing two fingers around the base of Nanami’s cock where you were stretched around him, you both groaned at the feeling.

You shook your head, mouth opening and closing dumbly. “I-I don’t know, I’ve never taken that much before.”

Higuruma nodded, “I know, sweetheart.” His hands caressed your face and you leaned into the touch like a kitten. “But do you want to try? Hm?”

You did, so badly, but you were afraid of being split in half in the process. Nanami and Higurma were around the same side, Nanami having more length where Hiromi had girth. Though, you had been cockwarming Nanami for some time now, and could feel yourself adjusting as the seconds went by.

“We will take it slow. Careful.” Nanami encouraged from behind.

That was the last push you needed before you nodded. “ALright, good girl. We’ll take care of you.” Hiromi whispered, locking his lips with yours, distracting you while he lifted your right leg over his shoulder. It was a stretch, and it burned at first, but quickly dissolved when the angle made Nanami’s cock bump into something sweet deep inside you. Each time Hiromi moved, it rubbed that spot.

“Careful, she feels like she’s going to cum. She is twitching around me like crazy” Nanami said behind you as Higruma lined himself up.

Hirimi raised his eyebrows. “Is that so? Are you close, my love?” You nodded frantically, leaning into Nanami’s neck when your husband pressed two fingers inside you along with Nanami’s cock and stretched you. It felt impossibly tight, and it burned, but the sensation blurred with the pleasure he was giving you when someone's thumb rubbed your clit in soft circles with firm pressure.

“You’re doing very well.” Nanami praised, making you whine. Higruma had three fingers now, and was thrusting himself against where you and Nanami were connected. Kisses peppered your neck. “Relax, loosen yourself around me.”

You held your breath, fighting the urge to tense when you felt your husband press the head of his cock against you. You were unable to resist when his head popped inside along with Nanami. “Yes- Yes, my love, I’m in.” He smiled, hands cradling your face. You hadn’t realized tears were falling down your face. “You did it, you did so well.” He was sliding in as you spoke, and it burned.

Nanami made a pained sound behind you, muttering the word “tight”, and you felt him twitch rapidly. His nails dug into your skin as he held himself back.

Higuruma was nearly fully seated inside you when Nanami pulled back, making you shutter. “We’re going to move now, slow at first, okay? That okay, honey?” Hiromi asked.

You nodded through a cry of pleasured pain. Higuruma pushed into the hilt then as Nanami pulled nearly all the way out. A purely male sound spilled from his lips. “I’m not going to last inside you.”

Higuruma laughed, the sound strained when he pushed back in. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and your legs shook when they continued to rub against that sweet spot. The pressure was so intense, it was so fucking much, you had never felt so full. “I’m not going to last either, you- you both feel so warm.”

“And she’s so wet.” Nanami added, quickening the rubbing on your clit. You had no time to warn them you were cumming before you clamped down on them and shattered.

Both men grunted loudly, groaning and gasping as your walls shuttered and milked around them. Your mind was elsewhere then, no longer one with the earth. Through it all though, they didn’t stop moving.

“Good fucking girl, good girl.”

“Wet our cocks, god- that feels so good.”

“So pretty when she finishes too, what a sweetheart.”

“It’s dripping down my balls… God, that was a big one.”

Their praise and words melded into one, their voices unidentifiable as you were now putty in their hands for them to mold, and mold they did.

Their thrusts got harder then, and you screamed when they synced up and both slammed inside your too tight cunt. “I love this.” Hiromi groaned, burying his face in your neck. His body crushed yours, your pebbled nipples rubbing against his coarse shirt.

You nodded, tears running furiously down your cheeks now. Your entire body vibrated and shook now, you had no control over it.

Nananmi panted behind you, kissing and biting your ear lobe, making your eye twitch. “Where do you want me?” He asked breathlessly, thrusts faltering.

You already knew Hiromi was going to finish inside you, as he always did–and you wanted Nanami too as well. You were on the pill, and something about being filled with both their cum set you off.

“Inside.” You whined, tightening around them to emphasize your words.

Nanami released an inhuman groan, and stilled. His thighs shook violently under you, and you felt him release inside you first. Everything was so hot and wet, and Higuruma kept thrusting, working you both over. “Agh- I can feel it- fuck, fuck it’s so warm honey, so- so warm.” Higuruma was rambling now, dizzy with his impending high.

Nanami’s abs jerked and his body contracted around yours when he came down from his high but kept being stimulated with Higuruma’s thrusting. “God-” He moaned long and drawn out.

Higurma grunted. “I’m going to cum, sweetheart. Gonna fill you up with Nanami, and you’re going to take it like my good little wife, aren't you?”

You nodded vigorously, gripping the back of his neck and pulling his forehead to yours while your nails dug into Nanami’s forearm. 

“Such a good girl, my sweet wife-” His words cut off with his orgasm, and he stilled. He jerked above you, moans and grunts spilling from his throat as he spilled inside you. Nanami groaned behind you, eyes rolling back in his head at the feeling of his cock being flooded around with cum.

His body buzzed when he came down, and he smiled against your lips as he took your mouth, whispering how good you were, how pretty you looked.

Neither of them pulled out, keeping you warm and stuffed save for the trickle of their arousal you felt spill out between you–which seemed absurd because of how full you were. But for the most part, they were plugging you up good.

“So, Nanami? She is a reactive thing, isn’t she?” Higuruma asked.

He kissed your cheek, creating a loud smacking sound. “Incredibly so, and she takes everything so well.”

“The best.” He agreed. “My perfect little wife.”

[monstersholygrail]

While at first your owners were overjoyed about the fact that you, a Mouse Hybrid, and your mate, a Cat Hybrid were getting along so much better than before, their concern quickly grew. They began to wonder if you two were getting along too well, not knowing how far your relationship had already progressed.

They worried that their silly little cat was playing too rough with you. Having seen the way he would tackle you, his hips pinning you in place so he can paw at your body. Or the way his sharp teeth nip along the fold of your neck, leaving dark claiming marks in their place.

They got you for him so he could have a friend but they didn’t want him bothering your cute self too much if you were unable to fight back when the intensity rose.

And as his heat got closer and closer to starting they only began worrying more. They knew he’d become even more rough and raunchy. The last thing they wanted was for their precious plump mouse to get scared or hurt.

So, for your safety, they decided to set up their cat hybrid with their friend’s cat hybrid. With an agreement from both owners she would come stay over at the house so they could mate in peace. Only until his heat had passed and he was able to control himself as usual; if only they knew.

Your big mouse cheeks puff up in anger as the female cat walks into the house. Parading into your territory. Your mate didn’t even notice, too busy loudly purring while licking at his marks on your neck and making sure they stayed dark. Something he was doing more of recently with his heat coming up.

When your bf’s heat fully started, it began to affect all the hybrids in the house. Your bf kept clinging to you, taking every chance he could to get away and take you somewhere he can relieve the heat you cause to burn inside him even hotter.

The other cat hybrid could smell his alluring scent and it grew harder to resist despite being scared off by your scent always mixed so deeply with his.

For you, your bf’s heat only heightened your need to claim him in every way possible.

The tension was growing thicker and thicker the longer things went on without you properly laying claim on your mate. Especially now as the other hybrid eyes your mate from the other side of the living room.

Your bf, too caught up in the consuming lust of his heat to notice anything else, still only ever has his hands on you. Sensing her eyes on you, you finally decide to settle this one and for all.

You straddle your bf and he immediately sighs in relief, already needing to have you all over again. You rub against his hardening cock, letting him know you need him now too.

In the blink of an eye he’s flipping you onto your belly, ass high up in the air. His body molding against your own, his loud purring rumbling in your ear.

“Look at you, such a good mate. Taking care of me when I need you so bad,” he coos.

Your eyes flash as you look at the other hybrid. Your tail intertwines with your bf’s and you reach back, rocking back against his aching cock and sinking your claws into him to keep him close. He growls, pawing at your clothes so he can get to you. Your unusual behavior not going unnoticed by him but it only gets him more hot and bothered.

His eyes follow your line of the sigh to the strange hybrid leaving the room in a frenzy and he growls. The heat within him threatening to explode as he realizes what you’re doing.

With a swipe of his paw he shreds the rest of your clothes off. The sight of your glistening fat cunt has his mind spinning. He yanks you closer and sinks his length deep inside you in a long smooth stroke, stretching you out till your insides are burning just as his are.

“And staking claim on your mate too. Such a good girl f’me. Now let me take care of you,” he growls, wanting to properly reward you for showing another Hybrid what’s yours.

You still have your claws in him, keeping close as he desperately fucks his cock into you. The close proximity forcing his thick tip to slam against that soft spot deep inside of you with every hard snap of his hips. You can feel every inch of him against you and it helps soothe the feelings controlling you.

Loud moans and cries of pleasure echo throughout the house form you both. Ensuring the other hybrid can hear. His ribbed length rubs along your gummy walls. The friction has your toes curling and your back arching into him as you meet every thrust.

Every inch of your form shakes as the pleasure he gives you doubles over. Your body practically seizing as he has you coming hard in his cock. But just when you think he might start slowing down, he quickly pins your wrists over your head and rams his length into you.

“I don’t know if she’s gotten the message, little mouse. Might need to make it a little more clear,” he says, a feral glint in his eye.

He fucks you until you forget another hybrid was ever here to begin with. He makes you forget everything besides his name as he forces you to scream it each time he brings you to release.

When his heat ends not longer after, the other hybrid leaves to go back home to her family. You and your bf watch her from afar, his frame hovering on top of yours as your owners happily chat away.

As soon as goodbyes are shared and the door closes, your bf rolls over to pin you against the couch. That look in his eye making you wonder if some of his heat hasn’t totally gone away just yet.

[salem-witch-slut]

The Madness In Me

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS: You and Natasha get infected with an alien aphrodisiac that is supposed to induce heat cycles in many species. How will you both cope with this issue? (We all know how)

WARNINGS: SEX POLLEN, enthusiastic consent, drug-induced sex, masturbation, fingering (N!receiving) pussy eating, (r!receiving), violent sex, mutual pining, confessions of love, reader is described as agoraphobic (fear of being in unsafe, unfamiliar environments), no use of y/n

WORD COUNT: 6.1K

This was why you never left the fucking compound. This was the exact reason that you never left when Natasha asked you to come with her somewhere. You told Steve to leave you alone, made aggressive backhanded comments to Rocket, even threw things at Rhodey when he asked for an extra set of hands in the field.

You were an office person. Your job was to keep paperwork in order, make calls, and… do office shit! You weren’t meant for the field, you had no desire to explore the outside world, and you certainly weren’t created for literal space. But everybody was indisposed with other assignments and only you and Natasha were around to help Nebula with something in space.

It should have been a simple task: collect data of the tremors on the planet, run scans, and return the data back to the compound where you could ship off the readings to Carol, wherever she was out in space. The atmosphere was breathable, but lower gravity than Earth so your footsteps were heavier and you felt less balanced.

Natasha was trying not to smirk as you looked so out of your element here, kneeling into mystery colored dirt and plunging several spikes into the ground to pick up the tremor readings. You were trying to ignore her, looking forward to curling up in your bed tonight and forgetting about the terror you felt when passing through the jump point.

“Not meant for space, Nat,” You mumbled, connecting the sensor to the wires and waiting for it to turn green. Natasha knelt down next to you and gently nudged you with her arm. “I’m serious, I want to go home like, now.”

“Do you ever stop complaining?” Natasha rolled her eyes. You looked up and tried not to stare at the way her red roots were starting to overtake the blonde on her head. “We are in literal space, and you can’t stand it.”

“Maybe I’ve got minimal agoraphobia, who knows,” You sighed, running your hands through the dirt under your knees and seeing the sensor start to blink an aggressive yellow color. “Fuck sake, what now?”

“You placed the sensors incorrectly,” Nebula’s voice spoke through the comm on your chest and you flinched. “Do you need any assistance? The diagram was clearly marked—”

“No, I’ve got it Nebula,” You turned off the comm and sighed, pulling out the left most sensor and readjusting the probe so you could properly plunge it into the dirt. “God, why does she always sound disappointed in me?”

“That’s just her voice,” Natasha wiggled one of the sensors, trying to get it exactly like the diagram. She was focused on her task, and you were focused on yours… So focused that you didn’t notice your comm blinking angrily. Nebula was trying to tell you something, but you were ignoring the comm, just simply thinking that she was trying to boss you around again.

…If only you had listened to her.

Nebula was trying to warn you about the pocket of liquid your sensor was far too close to. The pressure under the surface of the dirt was high, and you pierced it just right. That was the cause of the tremors, alright. 

In mere seconds, both you and Natasha were knocked down into the dirt, covered in a translucent red liquid that was far stickier than you were comfortable with. It went up your nose, down your throat, every single part of you was drenched in the fucking substance that felt like it was humming with life. Natasha was just the same, rolling over on her side and coughing aggressively in order to get the liquid free from her throat.

Your entire body hurt, and you looked up at the ship just in time to see Nebula running down the ramp of the spacecraft and approaching you and Natasha. She scowled, looking down at you and crossing her arms. “I tried to tell you to be careful.”

“Next time,” You coughed, spitting out the goop and standing off the ground. Natasha stood up with you, flicking her hands out and trying so hard to get the substance off her body but it was clear that the only way it was coming off was with a high-pressure shower. “Next time, I’m fucking staying home.”

It didn’t take long for the ship to return to Earth. But in that time, you felt like your skin was literally on fire. The heat under your clothes was almost unbearable and you practically stumbled out of the ship towards the compound where you were finding a bathroom and stripping off your sticky garments immediately.

Natasha must have been feeling the same because her face was red, not because of that sticky liquid, and was almost ripping at her shirt as she went to a separate room to take her own shower.

Your clothes sat in a pile on the floor as you stepped into the coldest shower ever, sighing with relief as the heat began to dissipate and you washed away the sticky mess that was the mystery planet gunk staining your skin. It left a red tint behind on your skin that you hated, but at least the feeling of rolling around in glue was gone.

Hands slid across your skin as you tried to make this last, basking in the cold. Your fingers trailed over your belly and then down lower, pausing and feeling your face heat up with embarrassment. There was a residual part of your body that was radiating a painful heat… and not only heat. You turned off the water to your shower and looked down, seeing your arousal literally dripping down your legs.

“What the…” You shuddered, your stomach twisting as you grabbed a towel and began drying your body off. The towel rubbed all over your skin, hands shaking like crazy as you dried your hair and then dragged the fabric between your legs. The contact against your cunt was enough to make you cry out in agony, legs shaking and knees buckling as you hit the ground and curled up. “F-f-fuck…”

This was bad. But who could you even call for this? Who could help you? This had to be a medical issue, right? This wasn’t like your ovulation week or anything, this was nearly unnatural. You’d never been so aroused and wet in your damn life.

“Friday,” You mumbled out loud to the AI that watched over the compound. If Tony could see you now, he would be laughing his ass off. “W-What’s wrong with me?”

“Just a moment,” Friday said, and you could assume she was scanning you. “Internal body temperature is 101 degrees Fahrenheit, and heart rate is 120 resting… Should I call for a medic?”

“No,” You mumbled, standing off the ground and reaching for the robe off the back of the bathroom door, sliding it over your sweaty skin and plopping onto the bathroom floor. “No, this is too embarrassing… Get Nebula, please Friday. She’s from space, she should know what’s wrong with me.”

“I have alerted Nebula. Are you alright, miss?”

“M’fine Friday,” You sighed, pulling your legs to your chest and trying to ignore the ache between your legs… was this happening to Natasha too? Oh, you shouldn’t have thought about that. The thought of Natasha Romanoff in the same state as you, on the ground with her arousal dripping down her thighs… You pulled your hand away from where it was circling your clit at an agonizing rate.

Muscles burning, heart rate through the roof, skin crawling, stomach churning… You were in agony when Nebula came in as you were laying on the floor in nothing but the bathrobe. Sweat dripped from your face as you looked up just in time to get face-to-face with a furry creature that a long time ago would have freaked you out, but you knew Rocket when you saw him.

“The hell did I miss out on?” He looked up at Nebula who scowled before grabbing you by the arms and lifting you off the floor like you didn’t weigh a damn thing to her. Cyborg muscles, you assumed… It was comforting. Her synthetic hands were cold in comparison to your burning hot skin, and you leaned against her touch despite her seemingly indifferent to your affection.

“What’s wrong with me, Rocket?” You sobbed as Nebula sat you down on the counter while the raccoon jumped on the surface next to you and sniffed your body. The scent of the ooze still lingered on your skin, and residue was left behind in a red tint in your hair.

Rocket immediately began laughing. “Just a guess, but smells like a very damn strong dose of pohlavívan sludge.”

“In English, dammit—”

“It’s a chemical used in making stimulants to induce heats for a lot of species in the galaxy… and a very potent aphrodisiac that is sold in some alcohol on Hasbinth V,” Rocket explained as he grabbed at your face and moved your hair away.

Your pupils were dilated and just from your scent alone, Rocket knew what the problem was without a doubt. “Girl, you are horny out of your frickin’ mind—”

“WHAT?!” You shrieked, jumping up and wrapping your arms around your stomach. “I was drugged? Are you k—No, no, no, there’s an antidote, right? There’s always an antidote for—”

“Sorry sweetheart,” Rocket shook his furry head, much to your embarrassment and dismay. “Nothin’ to do but wait ‘til it stops.”

When you glanced at his crewmate, Nebula seemed to look at you with… pity? Either that, or she was uncomfortable just being in your presence. You gulped, asking the question that you didn’t want to ask. “How long?”

“Heat cycles for most species last a week… but humies don’t get them so maybe a few days less than that?” Rocket was in thought, or perhaps he was enjoying your agony far too much as you groaned and pushed your legs together and sunk down on your knees again.

If he said something else, you didn’t hear him. The only thing on your mind was the unbearable throb between your thighs and how you just wanted to touch yourself until the pain ceased finally… But apparently, you had days for this. And Nebula’s last words before she left with Rocket were the worst things you could hear. “It’s going to get worse. We’ll figure out a quarantine situation for you soon… Rocket, we need to check on Natasha; she got hit with the sludge as well.”

“Are you kidding?!” Rocket started laughing. “The assassin and the girl afraid of going outside get doused with liquid sex on the one day I’m busy? I’m not missing anything ever again.”

How could it possibly get worse?

Worse. Worse, worse, so much fucking worse.

It had only been a day for you into quarantine and you felt like you were going to rip your hair out! Your skin was crawling, your face was burning, and you simply stopped wearing anything below the waist because it would just get soaked in seconds from how bad your cunt was dripping… It was humiliating. You felt like a dog in heat.

With every spare second you had, you were touching yourself. Any thought you had was perverse, and you couldn’t stop yourself from having vulgar desires about literally every single woman within your life. You drooled over your memories with Wanda Maximoff before she disappeared into dust and how her touch always felt electric for you. Thoughts of Nebula and her cold stare as she held you down that one time was addicting.

Carol Danvers came to mind and you imagined the being of the cosmos fucking you mercilessly like the beast she was and it had you sobbing as you rutted against the bedsheets that were soaked with your juices, and your sweat.

But the thing that did it for you? Natasha… Oh, the beautiful and sweet Natasha Romanoff… The woman who was suffering just as you were on the other side of the fifth floor where you two were being kept. The thought that she was rubbing herself down on her bed or plunging her fingers into her cunt as well was the thought that had you cumming several times over.

Tears streaked your face as you bit down on your bottom lip and humped at your pillow like some sad fucking desperate teenager. Your clit was rubbed raw at this point, and your cunt was pulsing painfully, but you couldn’t stop. Every time you came, you felt a momentary reprieve of bliss and the shivers would stop, before it came right back and the cycle started all over again.

The only way you got to sleep was with the injections that Rocket brought to you. Nebula was expecting you to have adverse reactions to him when he entered your room, but you seemed to be less than indifferent to his presence. In fact, it was like that with every man that entered your room.

Steve had gone to check on you, and Rocket warned him that you were basically feral and wanted to fuck anything with a pulse, but not him. You looked up at Steve and sobbed before burying yourself under the blankets and hiding.

The opposite was the case when Nebula first entered your room after the symptoms got worse. You knew that once this was all over, you could never look at her the same after you had almost jumped on top of her.

It was the fever talking… and acting… and—Fuck, your own touch wasn’t as helpful as it was before. As the hours dragged on, you felt like your hands were going numb and your heart was practically breaking with how much pain you felt. It was with shaky hands that you reached for the injection on the table next to your ruined bed and jabbed the large needle into your leg.

A small trickle of blood oozed from the puncture wound as you injected the mixture of sedatives into your body and you felt the relief of sleep slowly approaching. The last thing you did was put the used needle down into the incinerator trash can before passing out in your mess. The syringes on your table were labeled with a single word. “SNOW”.

You were happy to rest your burning body, closing your eyes and immediately passing out, drooling on your mattress with the pillow nestled between your thighs. As the hours carried on, your scent just got stronger. You were unconscious for quite some time, but it turns out, someone else couldn’t sleep at all.

Your scent was too strong. It was driving her fucking insane. She couldn’t control herself even if she wanted to. In mere moments, the poor ex-assassin was crawling into your bed, and she didn’t care if you were asleep; she was eating your pussy.

Natasha grabbed at your body and turned you over on your back, pulling the pillow out from between your legs and practically drooling over how your wetness was sticking to the fabric before she bent down and put her entire mouth over your cunt like it was all she needed to survive.

You didn’t react for a good long while. The sedative mixture in the syringes were heavy duty stuff, and for almost forty minutes, Natasha was simply indulging herself on you like you were the most decadent snack she’s ever had and she just couldn’t get enough.

With one hand, she reached down and pressed her fingers against her clit, groaning against you as you squirmed in your sleep slightly, clearly stirring awake after the assassin’s tongue was attacking your cunt for over half an hour. She was basking in your taste, your juices smearing on her mouth and dripping onto the wet bed sheets as she dug her fingernails into your left thigh.

The pain woke you first. The way her nails bit into your skin had you squeaking in pain as you sat up and looked to see what was the culprit. And then the pleasure hit you. Holy fuck did the pleasure hit you. It was completely different from you touching yourself; Natasha was so good. She was so fucking good at this that you felt yourself close to cumming already.

“N-N-Nat!” You stuttered, a loss for words. Natasha looked up through her blonde hair messily splayed all over her damp, sweaty face as she refused to let up. Her tongue pressed flat against your hole and slowly pushed it in. The noise you made was guttural and savage. “Fuuuuuhuuuck!”

Natasha didn’t stop even for a second. In fact, her own hand abandoned her pussy and she forgot about her own pleasure for a moment, the thought of your release in her mouth taking over her entire being. Her green irises were almost overtaken by her blown out pupils. She had tunnel vision. You were at the end. And she ignored the ache in her jaw as she felt your thighs tremble in her hands.

You met her fiery gaze and she saw a small string of drool drip from your lips and she latched her lips around your clit, sucking and making your eyes roll all the way back in your head. That was your final stretch.

Your body arched off the bed and you let out a shriek of euphoria, reaching down and grabbing at her short blonde hair, fingers curling in Natasha’s locks as she felt your taste flood over her tongue. She was in heaven. You had never seen Natasha like this before, and you were upset that it had taken this long for her to eat your pussy like she was a woman starved.

The trembles of your climax began to slowly wear off as you panted, heart racing as you saw Natasha slowly sit up from the bed, your arousal dripping from her lips and her hair a downright mess. She smelled so good, and looked even better. Her skin was glistening as she collapsed on top of you, her arms caging you into the mattress. 

“What are you doing to me?” Natasha panted, but there was no bite in her voice. The tone of her commanding words had your knees weakening again as you reached up and tangled your fingers in her hair. 

“What you do to me,” You said, leaning up a little as you teased the assassin with the promise of a kiss. Your lips were centimeters apart as her mouth hovered and she pressed a single kiss to your nose. Both of you couldn’t stop your heavy breaths as she saw how your eyes were just as dilated, knowing that this was the sludge forcing her hands… And yet, this feels so, so right. 

“Pretty girl,” Natasha teased, her tongue licking at your bottom lip as you whimpered, your knee slipping between her legs and pressing up against her core. The sound she made was enough to have you climbing the walls. The teasing was over as you reached for the back of her neck and pulled her down. 

It was unlike you to feel dominant in your life… Your short list of lovers could attest to that; you were always the submissive type in the relationship. And yet, the aphrodisiac working in your body was screaming to take control. Fingers twitched as you fought your natural instincts for the ones forced into your brain by the drug. 

The kiss was broken when your hands dug into Natasha’s ass, nails biting her skin as she gasped and looked into your eyes. Her heart pounded in her ears as she rolled her hips, grinding her slicked pussy down against your thigh. 

“Y-You know,” You panted, guiding her hips into your leg and shivering at how warm her cunt was on your skin. You wanted nothing more than to fuck the assassin senseless. “This is… j-just that sludge, right?” 

Natasha laughed, tossing her head back for a second as her sweat dripped off her nose. “Is it though, sweetheart?”

You stopped. Your body seemed to shudder all over as you rested both hands on her hips. “Nat, what are you–”

“Later,” She begged, her fingers sliding across your body and pausing to grip at your breasts, squeezing and kneading at the flesh enough for your eyes to roll back in your head. “We’ll talk later… Right now, I need you.” 

How could you say no to that? 

Your fingers grabbed the back of her thighs and in seconds, Natasha was on her back on the bed with you grabbing at her wrists, holding them above her head into the pillow. That beautiful blonde hair with the red roots peeking through was splayed across your sheets. Her skin was glistening with sweat, chest rising and falling rapidly with every hard breath she took. 

Natasha Romanoff was the most beautiful woman you have ever seen in your entire life. 

“Fuck,” You said. You couldn’t think of anything else to say. You dropped down and your lips pressed into hers, hands releasing her wrists as they curled into the bedsheets and you put your knee right back to where it was before. 

Natasha whimpered, her hips bucking up to meet your leg as it felt like shocks going all over her body. In her normal state, this friction wouldn’t have been enough to get her off, but with the drug making everything more sensitive, Natasha swore she could cum just like this. But you weren’t satisfied with it. 

Your right hand slid down from the sheets, caressing over her body and raking your nails over her flat abdomen before sneaking between her legs. The kiss broke as she spread her thighs apart for your fingers. When they came in contact with her cunt, Natasha let out the most unhinged noise of pleasure you’ve ever heard in your entire life. 

You wanted to hear more. Your fingers circled around her clit and Natasha bit her lip, something in her fighting the noises she wanted to make. You weren’t having it as you bent down and kissed the woman’s neck. 

“Come on, Widow,” You teased, your fingers rubbing at her in tight circles and making her even wetter, if that was at all possible because she was already dripping. “Walls are soundproof… Give me all you’ve got.” 

When your teeth sunk into her neck and you slipped your middle finger into her slick pussy, Natasha was past holding herself back. Her entire spine arched off the bed and she gasped, her eyes rolling back and her body reacting to your touch in the most delicious way possible. 

She was so sexy, so fearless, so everything you admired in a woman and now all of your infatuation for the audacious assassin was coming to a point. You had always loved Natasha, and now you were able to show her. You could actually show her how you felt. Without the sludge drug going through your body, you would never have the confidence to even touch this woman, let alone kiss her. 

Things between you two had always been flirty, even before the attack that wiped out half of the universe. Natasha would walk by your office and smile at you, and you would blush before going back to your job. Maybe you would see her outside of your office when she was walking with Steve or Sam. She could smell your shampoo when you walked by and the smell of vanilla was always one of her favorites. 

She liked your fearlessness, even if you were simply afraid of field work. You took the job with the stipulation that you wouldn’t have to do field work, and your place would be behind a desk forever. And then, half of the organization vanished. Your work was forced to change and you didn’t have a choice but to sign your new contract and adapt. 

Much to Natasha’s pleasure, you were more active outside of your office. And there were many times when you would go with her outside of the compound… And then you went to space. You and her went to space. Natasha and you went into outer space, got hit with pohlavívan sludge, and now because of one off-world assignment, you two were about to fuck like rabbits in heat. 

The Widow looked down, watching your wrist flex as you pushed another finger into her cunt and she saw stars behind her eyes, her inner walls squeezing your digits and making you pant with pleasure. It was like you could feel what she was feeling, your heart skipping beats as the scent of her arousal was flooding your senses and clouding everything you once knew.

“Ohmygod,” Natasha cried out. Her eyes were watering as she held the sheets, lifting up her right leg and resting her calf on your shoulder. A growl left your throat as you doubled down and started moving your fingers faster, stretching her around them and feeling her warmth and wetness soak you from the wrist down. “Fuck, fuck that’s it… D-Don’t stop…”

“Never,” You whispered, leaning down and pressing your nose against her cheek. Her moans and whines drowned your senses, encouraging your movements. 

The blonde couldn’t hold it back even if she tried. Never before has she been able to cum so quickly before. Her eyes crossed and rolled all the way back in her head as she reached up for your shoulders and dug her nails in, screaming with blistering gratification. You gave a breathy laugh before it faded into a groan, feeling her nails scrape across your back. 

Natasha created a puddle under her, staining the mattress and ruining the sheets even more than you could have done on your own. You gasped, resting your head against her shoulder as you breathed her in, basking in her aftershocks and gently rubbing at her clit with your thumb as you continued to stroke her inner walls with your fingertips.

The moment carried on for at least a minute before both of you were snapped out of your stupor at a soft beeping sound. 

“What the hell is–” Natasha said, looking around the room for a second before her question was answered. 

“Warning, heart rate levels dangerously high,” FRIDAY spoke over the intercom in your room, a blush turning your entire face red. “Wounds detected. Shall I call for assistance, miss?” 

“No!!” Both you and Natasha screamed, silencing the AI in the walls instantly. You never wanted anybody to see Natasha the way you are seeing her right now. Very carefully, your fingers slipped free from her cunt and she gasped, her nose going into your neck as she wrapped both arms around you and whimpered. 

“Shhh… Shhh, I got you, Nat,” You cooed sweetly, not really sure where this confidence came from. Was it actually the drug making you like this, or were you always capable of this deep down? “Just breathe baby, that’s it… Just breathe for me…”

Natasha’s heart calmed down gradually. You waited patiently for her to pull back away from your shoulder and when she did, you smiled, pushing her blonde hair away from her eyes and seeing that her climax had given both of you a momentary reprise from the stupid aphrodisiac that would be taking effect again in no time. 

“There you are,” You said, rubbing your thumb over her cheek. “You okay,mílaja?”

Natasha blushed at you speaking Russian, chuckling as she reached up with both hands and held your cheeks. “Never better, detka.” 

You rubbed your nose against hers teasingly as a shiver raced down your spine, feeling an odd sensation of wetness on your back. You reached over your shoulder and felt something warm and wet coat your fingertips. When you pulled them back, blood coated your fingertips. Damn, she cut pretty deep huh?

“Jesus,” You cursed, raising a brow as Natasha frowned and immediately began to fuss at the wound she caused. When she managed to wiggle out from underneath you, she saw the lines from her fingernails going down your back and a small amount of blood trickled from the wounds and streaked your skin. 

“M’sorry,” Natasha leaned down and gently kissed your shoulder, wishing she could have held it together and not have caused you harm. “We should… we should get cleaned up, huh?” 

“Yeah,” You agreed, slowly crawling off of the mattress and cursing at how wet the sheets and fabric were under your hands. “We… really fucked this bed up.”

“Don’t worry,” Natasha smirked, reaching for your hand and pulling your body against her own. Your spine pressed into her chest as she leaned forward, her lips ghosting on the shell of your ear and making you shiver. “There’s lots of other places in your room we can ruin too… We’ve got nothing but time.”

It was like her words reactivated the arousal in you. The momentary reprieve ended as your pupils widened and overtook your eyes again as you leaned into her hands, grabbing at her ass from behind you and breathing heavily. “Shower?” 

“Shower. Now.” 

The two days continued just like this. You two couldn’t keep your hands off of each other the entire time. The sludge had made it so your stamina was nearly limitless and you could continue without needing a breather or a break. Natasha was resilient and strong, and she was able to handle anything you threw at her. 

True to her words, you two fucked on every single surface of the room. The showers, the bathroom sink, the kitchen sink, the bed, the floors, the couch, the reclining chair, even in the closet. The room reeked of sex and it felt like you could never get enough of Natasha grinding against your face. 

Your favorite thing quickly became eating her out while she was standing up. You liked how her knees would wobble as she got close and she had to grab the surface she was leaning against in order to not collapse on the floor. 

Natasha found her favorite position. She loved sliding her own slicked cunt against yours, juices mixing together as she held you down and fucked herself against you like it was her fucking birthright. You made the cutest sounds when she dominated and she couldn’t get enough of it. 

With both of you breathing in that small window of clarity after another earth shattering orgasm, Natasha reached for the remaining two syringes on the nightstand, offering one to you as she panted and tears streaked her face. 

“Need to stop,” Natasha panted, ripping the cover off the needle as she looked in your eyes and inserted the sedative into her arm. You nodded quickly, following her and injecting yourself with the SNOW. She used the last of her strength to incinerate the used needles before collapsing next to you on the floor, legs tangled in the wet blankets as your body curled around her own.

 It was ten full hours later before both of you woke up. Sunlight streaked through the window as you slowly began to blink, attempting to wake up and come back to reality. For a second, you felt fine… and then it all hit you at once. 

Your head was pounding. It felt like a hangover times ten. Your entire body was sore and screaming, muscles aching and your stomach growling with ferocity as you rolled over and pushed your entire face into the wet pillow behind your head. 

“Fuck,” You cursed, wanting it to stop already. It wasn’t until you heard a similar groan that you opened your eyes and saw Natasha looking just as ragged as you, if not worse. Deep, dark circles were under her eyes. Her hair was a total mess, and her neck was littered with bruises and bite marks. You flushed, remembering that you were the one to leave those marks. 

“Goddammit,” Natasha groaned, rolling onto her side as she faced you and rubbed her whole hand across her face. It wasn’t until you saw her eyes that the realization set in… The drug was out of your system. Her irises were normal. She wasn’t trying to jump you the second you woke up. 

You two were fine now… Oh shit, you two were fine now… You two fucked nonstop for three days!

“FRIDAY,” You said, voice hoarse and cracking. “Are we okay?” 

A second passed before a beep went off. “All traces of pohlavívan sludge have been removed from your systems. Vital signs, stable.” 

You breathed a sigh of relief as you flopped on the ground and reached out for Natasha’s hand. To your surprise, she didn’t refuse your touch. In fact, she scooted closer and pressed her forehead against yours, breathing you in like your presence could cure her aches and pains. 

“Are you okay?” She asked, reaching out with her other hand and pushing your hair out of your eyes. You smiled, nodding a little as you lifted up her hand and kissed over her knuckles. The moment was sweet and you were happy to live in it. 

“We uhm,” You swallowed hard. “Should we… talk about this or…”

Natasha rolled her eyes before she leaned forward and captured your lips in a soft, gentle kiss. Your eyes widened. This was way different than before. There was no drug working through your systems to force your hands; Natasha was kissing you and meaning it this time. You melted and returned the kiss, resting a hand on her cheek and relaxing visibly. 

When the kiss broke, the assassin smiled warmly and rubbed her thumb across your cheekbone. “I love you… and this isn’t the drug talking this time, detka… I really love you.”

You thought you were going to cry. “I love you too, Natasha… Fuck, I love you so much it’s sickening.” 

She rolled her eyes before scooting even closer and wrapping her arms around your body and shoving her entire face into your chest. You both reeked and were covered in sweat and cum, but you still couldn’t stop touching each other no matter what…

It was a sweet moment. 

And then the door opened and you reacted on instinct. Without a second thought, you were grabbing at the bedsheet and wrapping it around yourself and Natasha who looked up and saw two people entering the bedroom, and a much shorter, furrier creature slipping between the other two to approach both of you on the floor. 

“Steve, you could fuckin’ knock you know!” You shouted at Captain America who immediately looked away from the scene and tried to hide the redness on his cheeks. 

Rocket ran on all fours towards you as he looked at your eyes and sniffed your skin. “Drug’s completely dissolved. I’m impressed humie… Didn’t think you’d make it through this shit.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Natasha said in an accusatory tone as Nebula stepped around the mess of the room, seeing that you used all of the sedative syringes and blew through the water supply that would normally last a normal human a week, but it barely lasted three days with you and Natasha.

“Lesser humans would not have been able to keep up with the sludge working through their systems,” Nebula spoke. “Many that have ingested the substance did not survive. Their hearts stopped.” 

“And you didn’t think to tell us this earlier?!” You wrapped protective arms around Natasha as the thought of her heart stopping made you so uncomfortable that you felt your skin crawling and your heart racing. “We could have died!” 

“But ya didn’t,” Rocket said, that smug little grin making you scowl. “Both of you are fine. Got through it just fine and now you’ve both had the wildest sex of your lives.” 

“That’s enough,” Steve pushed the door open, keeping his eyes away from both of you. “Let’s give them privacy and a chance to clean up. Come on.”

When the room cleared out, you shared a single look with Natasha before both of you started laughing. So all of this could have been fatal. And the damn raccoon (not that he would admit to being that), had no intentions of telling either of you. And he just let you two fuck senselessly for days because, what, it was funny? 

And deep down… it kind of was funny. 

Both you and Natasha were forced to wear turtlenecks for a few days to cover the hickeys left behind. Steve couldn’t look at either of you without blushing. 

[nikkento-writes]

Babysitter - Part 1

Pairing: dad!Toji x babysitter!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~1.7k

cw: age gap (reader is 21, Toji is in his 30s), language, cheating, smut – PIV sex (doggy style), breeding kink, daddy kink

Summary: You're hired to babysit little Megumi for the summer, but you end up taking care of his father, Toji, as well.

Author’s Notes: This is repost from my old blog! I initially got this as a request and it became my first Toji fic ever, and certainly not my last lol. I'm posting this again because I actually wrote a Part 2, check it out! Thanks for reading! Divider credit to @/fic-dumpster.

You stand in front of a quaint house, checking your watch for the time. It’s been almost ten minutes now since you knocked, no answer. You gave the number from the listing a call, still nothing. Rolling your eyes, you take a seat on the steps leading to the door, waiting.

It’s the summer before you head back to university for your senior year. In an attempt to make some extra cash, you took a job as a babysitter through local ads in the paper. The first two clients were completely normal; this one is already leaving a bad taste in your mouth. 

Fifteen minutes have passed. You try once more, pounding on the door with your fist as loud as you can. Heel turned, ready to leave, it suddenly swings open, revealing a muscular man with black hair, glaring at you. “What the fuck do you want?” 

You step back, startled by his intimidating presence. Stuttering, you answer, “I’m the babysitter.”

He continues to stare at you, eyes following your body up and down, studying it. “Babysitter?”

Before you can explain any further, you hear a car rolling into the driveway. A woman in professional attire steps out quickly. “I’m so sorry I’m late!” She rushes towards you, holding her hand out to shake yours. “We spoke on the phone. I got stuck in traffic, I’m so sorry.”

You smile at her. “It’s okay.”

She faces the man, expression switching from cheery to dreary in an instant. “Toji, where is Megumi?”

He scratches his head. “Huh?”

“Megumi. Our child.”

He sighs. “Right. Uh, I’ll go get him.” 

While he’s gone, the woman pulls you aside, speaking in a hushed voice. “That’s Toji, my husband and Megumi’s father. Unfortunately, he’s a complete deadbeat. That’s why I want to hire you. I started my new job and I need someone to take care of Megumi while I’m gone during the day.”

She swallows hard, blinking to fight off oncoming tears. “I have no one. I’ve been shunned by my family, my husband doesn’t give a shit about ours, and I’m all alone trying to give Megumi a good life. I know this is a lot to ask, but I’m desperate. This is just until I can save enough money to hire a full-time nanny.”

She grips onto your wrist with both her hands, begging for help. Truthfully, it’s a lot to unravel, more drama than you anticipated. But the anguish in her eyes tugs at your heartstrings. Plus, knowing it’s temporary doesn’t make it seem so difficult. How bad can it be? “Okay. I’ll do it.”

Relief washes over her. “Oh thank god. Thank you. Thank you. Let’s go inside and I can give you a tour.” She leads you through the entrance, removing her shoes as you follow her. “Oh, and one more thing.”

“Sure.”

“Toji is home most of the day, but he’s always couped up in his room, doing god knows what. Just leave a meal or two outside his door twice a day. That should be enough.”

“Huh?!” 

She glances at you with a nervous smile on her face. “Yeah. I told you, he’s good for nothing.”

You don’t respond while you maneuver through the house, barely paying attention while she shows you around. It almost sounds like you’ll be babysitting two children…

~~~

The first two weeks of your new job go by smoothly. Megumi is an adorable baby; he’s almost two-years-old with hair as black as his father’s. While he never really smiles, he doesn’t cry either, expression usually stern, unless he needs a diaper change. He’s self-sufficient, always immersed by his own toys until it’s time to eat. Overall, he’s easy. 

Toji, on the other hand, is another story. 

You follow his wife’s instructions, leaving two meals outside his door, breakfast and lunch. And this asshole has the audacity to critique it! The bread wasn’t toasted enough. The eggs were too runny. There wasn’t enough seasoning on the meat. All this criticism while each plate is licked clean, not a crumb to spot. He’s never even uttered a simple thank you. 

But what he lacks in social skills or personality, he makes up for in his physique. In between meals, he works out in the living room lifting weights, doing push-ups, sit-ups, and pull-ups at the frame of the door. It lasts for over an hour, and by the end of it, he’s shirtless, dripping with sweat. You’ve done everything in your power to avoid staring but it doesn’t prevent your mind from conjuring all types of lewd thoughts about him. You’re ashamed to admit that he is physically attractive, only because everything else about him is utter trash. Still, it doesn’t hurt to look, right?

On the third week, there’s a shift in energy between you two. When he isn’t working out or going out to meet with his sketchy friends, he’s usually couped up in his bedroom, ignoring you and Megumi. This morning, he actually joins you in the kitchen. You stare blankly at him, stunned by his sudden appearance. Megumi is unfazed by his father as he tries to pull your wrist towards him to get a spoonful of mushed up peas. 

When he catches you, Toji glares. “What?”

“Um, nothing. Just surprised to see you here.” You clear your throat, focusing back on the baby. 

He rolls his eyes. “This is my house. I can do whatever I want.”

“Yes, of course. Sir.”

For some reason, this triggers him. He stands up abruptly, stepping to you, leaning his face towards yours. The scar on the corner of his lip twitches when he gives you a wicked grin. “That’s right. I’m in charge here.”

You flinch from him, scared, maybe even slightly aroused. He’s intense, that’s for sure. But part of you finds it exhilarating to be in his presence. 

Megumi whines for more food, to which Toji grabs the utensil from your hands to start feeding him. “Damn kid, he’s hungry all the fucking time.”

You sit up in your seat, regaining your composure. “You shouldn’t curse in front of children.”

He faces you, chuckling. “Curse? Seriously? What are you, five?”

You cross your arms, answering, “I’m twenty-one.”

“Interesting.” There’s that naughty smirk again, as if he’s thinking something obscene in that twisted head of his. And while you should be turned off, you’re not. You squeeze your legs together, pussy throbbing between your thighs. And of course, he notices this. He must, because he leans forward, lips grazing your ear, whispering, “Come by my room whenever Megumi is taking his nap. That’s an order.”

~~~

This is bad. Very, very bad. 

You're supposed to be better than this. Clearly, you aren’t, because you’re currently getting railed by your employer’s husband while his child sleeps peacefully in the next room.

“Fuck, this pussy is tight,” he groans, pumping his thick cock in and out of you. You’re bent over the edge of the bed, his hips smacking against your ass as he thrusts into you. He’s got a tight grip on your hips, nails digging into your flesh, pounding away at your greedy pussy, absolutely drenched with arousal and lube. Your face is sticky with perspiration, pillow soaked with sweat and drool. It’s a fucking mess, but it doesn’t matter, because all you can think about is Toji fucking you until you’re seeing stars. Until your head is empty and nothing but his fat cock is occupying your thoughts.

“God, you’re squeezing me so fucking hard, princess. You gonna come again?”

You nod erratically, reaching your fingers to your clit. He smacks it away, doing it himself, his thumb flicking against your swollen bud. “Fucking come on my cock then. Make it nice and creamy for me, got it?”

His cock is buried deep inside you, hitting your sweet spot over and over until you unravel, gushing around him once more. You’ve lost count on how many orgasms you’ve had in this short amount of time. 

After your climax, he doesn’t pull out, fucking you even rougher. Your body is pliant around him, yielding to his every touch like putty. You’ve lost control of yourself, completely enraptured in the intense pleasure he surrounds you with. 

He leans forward, chest pressed to your back, lips brushed to your ear. “I’m gonna knock you up. Give Megumi a little brother or sister. Would you like that?” He’s crazy. Completely unhinged. Absolutely fucking psycho. 

“Fuck yes, I want that,” you moan. “Give it to me, daddy. Breed me.” 

And apparently, so are you. 

“Oh fuck yeah, take my fucking cum then,” he growls. The bed creaks violently below you, his backshots brutal and frantic now, cock desperate for release. “I’m gonna get you fucking pregnant. Make you mine.”

He shoots his hot load inside you, stuffing you full of his cum. He doesn’t stop until he’s fucked it deeper into your pussy, watching with that sexy look on his face as his creamy cum leaks out of your slit.

Lifting you up to lay comfortably on the bed, he rolls beside you, kissing you sloppily until Megumi’s whimpers blare through the baby monitor, indicating that he’s awake. Toji laughs, smacking your ass as you crawl over him to return to your real job. 

~~~

You spend the remainder of your summer employed at the Fushiguro household until you have to go back to school. You and Toji continue to fuck each other silly every day that you’re working. 

The day before you leave for college, you say your goodbyes to the family. Megumi’s mom, who remains blissfully unaware of your sins, hugs you tightly. “Thank you so much for all your help. I’ve finally saved enough money to afford a full-time nanny, so we’ll be fine.” 

“It was my pleasure. I had a lot of fun. With Megumi,” you clarify, avoiding Toji’s gaze as he watches from the kitchen. 

“Seriously. You’re a good person. I hope you know that.” She smiles, truly grateful. “And thank you for taking care of my good for nothing husband too.”

As the guilt of this dirty, filthy secret eats away at you, Toji stares at you from across the room, smirking. 

[bi-writes]

Since he won't have MOB lift a finger in their home and given how he reacted when she came out in her lingerie, I like to imagine Simon gets a little flustered whenever he's doing the laundry and he's got to sort out her underwear from the rest of the clothes

mail-order bride

it's quiet this afternoon. it's cold outside again (what a surprise), and there's rain pattering gently against the windows. there's a stew in the oven, but it still needs a few hours to get that perfect tender texture. nevertheless, the house is filled with a warm smell, something hearty and wonderful.

something like home.

when simon walks into the living room, he sees you there. you're curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, head resting on a throw pillow as you watch a movie. there's a mug of tea in front of you, steam rising from it, and simon comes over to greet you.

you turn your head, looking up at him towering over you, and you smile up at him as you snuggle a little further into the pillow. you hold out your hand for him.

"wanna watch with me?" you ask, and he clicks his tongue, shaking his head. he takes your hand anyways, and you swallow hard as he presses your knuckles to his lips, giving them a light kiss before letting go.

"doin' the laundry. can't find yours."

you go to sit up, but simon frowns, visibly upset that you're moving from your spot.

"don't get up," he tells you, tucking the blanket back over you. "just tell me where it is."

you bite your lip.

"uhm...it's in the closet. there's...a bag there."

simon hums, thumbing over your jaw before making his way into the bedroom. he flicks the light on in the closet, moving hangers around until he spots a canvas bag on the floor there, stuffed to the brim with your dirty clothes. he picks it up, cursing a little from how heavy it is, and he carries it with him to the washroom. when he passes the living room, he stops for a moment.

"oi," he calls out to you, and you turn your head, smiling at him, and he points to the bag. "you put y'r clothes with mine from now on, yeah?"

you tuck your face behind the blanket a little more to hide your growing smile. you nod anyways, and he huffs a little before continuing. he puts his basket of laundry on top of the dryer, opening the lid of the washer, and he lifts your little bag up next to the basket. after he sets it down, he steps back when the bag starts to move.

"oi! wot the fuck?!"

at the shout, you scramble off the couch, hurrying towards where he is.

"what? what?! what happened?"

"bag's fuckin' movin'!" simon huffs, but when you try to come further into the room, simon puts a hand on your chest gently, pushing you backwards and behind him. he blocks you completely with his body, and you still can barely see as you stand on your toes and try and look over his shoulder.

"simon--" you sigh. "simon! wait--let me see!"

"fuck no," he snarls, "stay there."

he pushes the bag over so that it tips over, falling onto its side. your clothes tumble out, spilling onto the dryer and onto the floor, and simon reaches around him and wraps one big hand around your waist protectively to hold you back as he cranes his neck to see.

"what is it? simon!" you hiss, and simon holds his breath as the bag continues to move. there's a wiggle of a shape under the canvas before a familiar little head pokes itself out from the opening, one of your shirt sleeves framing their face and hiding their ears.

simon groans audibly, relaxing immediately.

"fuckin' hell," he mutters, letting you push him aside, and you hold onto his bicep as you try and hide your laugh. the cat wriggles its way through your shirt sleeve before shaking, fluffing her hair back up before she takes a seat on the edge of the dryer lid and starts to lick her little paw. "'ow did it fuckin' breathe in there, eh?"

you step past him and reach for her, picking her up off the dryer and tucking her into the crook of your arm. she lays her little head on your arm, blinking slowly up at you, and you tap her nose gently before looking back and up at simon.

"sorry she scared you, big man," you giggle, and he scrunches his nose a bit as he glares at the cat.

"wasn't scared," he huffs, and he brings you closer with a hand on your jaw, drawing you nearer. he runs his tongue over his teeth, looking down at you, and you swear his gaze lingers on your lips for just a second too long. "got precious cargo in m'house. couldn't let anythin' happen ta 'er."

you blink up at him, opening your mouth to say something, but you sputter, laughing, looking away from him. you shrug him off with a roll of your eyes, but you look back at him just as you're about to turn the corner and leave. he's already back to picking up your clothes that have fallen onto the floor, and you nearly choke when he's got one big hand wrapped around bright red lace.

he holds up the edges of it for a moment to inspect it, and he swallows when he realizes it's a pair of your panties.

your favorite panties.

when he looks over his shoulder, your eyes lock, and you squeak as you hide behind the doorway, shutting your eyes as you cringe at yourself for reacting so silly.

for fuck's sake, it's your husband--husbands wash their wives undergarments, right?

you poke your head back into the doorway, just enough for your eyes to get simon in view again. he's putting the rest of the clothes in the washer, putting a small amount of soap into it before shutting the top and putting the water on cold. you hide again when he turns around, flattening your back against the wall, and when he comes out, he's got a hint of a smirk on his face, knowing, because he knows he's caught you.

when he passes by you, you go half-lidded and slack when his hand finds your face again, thumb against your bottom lip. his eyes are so dark; beautiful, pupils blown wide, a magnet that draws you closer, up onto your toes until his thumb is nearly touching your tongue and your lips are nearly brushing against his.

simon takes your breath away when he leaves. you follow him hoping to get it back.

[hollandsangel]

voice | m. sturniolo

i had this idea a million years ago, please enjoy!!

summary: chris wonders if you can tell his and matt’s voice apart

warnings: super fluffy!! a bit suggestive at the very end, i’m questioning if it’s good or not

wc: 1.6k

gif by @mattsturnioloarchive !

“i call shower first!” you exclaim the second the garage door is open, sprinting past matt up the stairs to his bathroom.

“there’s three showers,” chris says matter-of-factly as you blow past him on the steps, holding a hand out in confusion.

matt sighs and follows behind you, passing chris as well, “yeah, but you don’t have to share,” 

you’re already on the mainfloor, running into matt’s bedroom to grab the change of clothes you’d left earlier.

“i’m so glad i don’t have a girlfriend,” chris mutters, earning a smack upside the head from nick, “jesus, fuck, what,”

“you’re just annoying,” nick says, deciding it’s a good enough explanation and getting a laugh out of matt.

“agreed,” matt’s still chuckling when they reach the kitchen table, setting down the take out the four of you had gotten on your way back to the house. he hears the water turn on in his bathroom, accompanied by the soft sound of your voice as you sing along to your music.

“oh she’s a nicki fan,” nick says to no one in particular, referencing the tik tok sound when he notices you’re listening to a nicki minaj song. 

matt looks up from the bag of food and laughs.

chris sinks into the couch but looks over at matt, arm slung over the cushions, “i wonder if she could tell our voices apart,” he says after a second. 

“what?” matt asks, thinking the question is mildy rediculous. 

“like do you think she could recognize your voice?” chris explains, wandering into the kitchen now. opening a pepsi and leaning up against the counter. 

nick chimes in now, having been fiddling with the vlog camera and battery, “like compared to you and me?” he asks chris, glancing back at matt as if to say ‘is this guy for real?’

“yeah,” chris nods.

“yeah, obviously she’d be able to tell my voice apart from yours,” matt is looking back at the food again, tone matter-of-fact, as if what he’d said was absolute common sense. 

chris is quiet for about half a second and matt thinks that’s the end of that absurd conversation. it isn’t, of course. 

“should we test it out?” chris asks through a sip of soda.

matt officially gives up on trying to set the food up, throwing his hands up in mock surrender before turning to chris, “and how are we gonna do that?”

chris shrugs, but nick has an idea, “chris, you could like, just go ask her for something, if you left something in the bathroom—“

“absolutely not,” matt shuts it down immediately with a shake of his head, “you're not going in the bathroom when my girlfriend is showering,”

“i won’t even go all the way in!! i’ll cover my eyes,” chris promises, but matt is still skeptical. “i’ll just like poke my head in the door and ask if i left like..a belt or some shit in there,” is chris’ next offer. 

matt sighs and thinks about it, weighing the pros and cons. of course you can tell his voice apart from his brothers…right? he’s making himself nervous, pysching himself out and worrying they all sound the same to you. it upsets him for some reason, he can’t quite decide why.

“fine,” he agrees after a beat of silence, convincing himself you know whis voice well enough to separate it from chris’, and if you can’t, he thinks he might actually feel a sick twinge of unjustified jealousy.

“yes,” chris mutters under his breath, always excited to pull a prank on anyone.

“this is definitely going in the vlog,” nick says, still messing with the camera and coming to sit at the kitchen table where matt is now.

“i can’t believe i agreed to this,” matt mumbles, rubbing his eyes and taking a deep breath. he stands from his seat and walks over to the wall where he can see the bathroom door, feeling some what protective, like he needs to supervise chris to make sure he doesn’t wander too far into the bathroom.

“what should i say?” chris turns back arms pulled in close to his body as if he’s nervous. he’s already grinning and trying to keep from laughing.

“ooh, call her sweetheart, matt always does that,” nick suggests, wiggling his brows in matt’s direction to tease him.

“oh my god,” matt groans softly, rubbing at his eyes, “i fucking hate you guys,”

“okay, i’m going in,” matt drops his hands at that, eyes on his brother immediately. chris puts a hand over his eyes, just as he said he said he would before knocking on the door. nick has the camera out to record and is trying to stifle his laugh in the collar of his hoodie.

at the sound of the knock matt hears your voice, calling out for him, no doubt thinking it’s him at the door. he has to cover his mouth, partly out of nerves but also to keep himself from saying anything.

“yeah,” chris starts, needing to take a second before continuing because he’s already making himself laugh. “yeah, sweetheart, did i leave my belt in here?” he asks, barely stood in the doorway of the bathroom.

“uhh, i think it’s in your bedroom?” you say after a slight pause, about to poke your head out from behind the shower curtain, but chris has already mumbled a ‘thanks’ and essentially sprinted out of the bathroom, closing the door and crumbling to the floor in giggles.

“you’re not fucking real,” matt shakes his head, laughing softly himself and pushing off the wall to go back to the kitchen table. he’s a bit bummed that you didn’t realize it wasn’t his voice, but he keeps that to himself.

nick pans the camera over to matt’s face, which seems expressionless, even with both his brothers cackling outside of the frame.

you come out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam, heading into matt’s bedroom to drop the clothes you’d changed out of. matt is instantly sitting back up, the legs of his chair scraping along the hardwood floors.

“ooh, someone’s pissed,” nick turns the camera to himself, eyeing the now closed door.

“that was too fucking good,” chris says after a deep breath, still recovering from laughing so hard. he pulls a chair out next to nick and the two start to explain what had happened to the camera, eyes flicking up to matt’s door every few seconds.

in the bedroom you’re putting your dirty clothes back into your bag when matt comes in, looking a little bit pouty, “hey baby,” you turn towards him, laughing at the slightly pathetic look he gives you, “what’s up?” you wonder.

“m’ tired,” he tells you, slumping up against you for a hug. you wrap your arms around him and rub his back, letting him lay his weight into you.

“we’ll eat and go to bed, yeah?” you give his back another little pat when he nods against you, “mkay, let’s go,” you kiss his cheek quickly, only to have him turn his head in search of a real kiss. you oblige of course.

nick and chris have already started eating and updating the vlog on their day when you and matt come out of the bedroom. matt joins them at the table but you head for the fridge to grab a drink. “oh, did you find your belt?” you ask matt, still digging around.

“what?— oh yeah” he mumbles, gaze turned down to his fries.

“okay good. by the way you sounded so much like chris when you came in— it freaked me the fuck out” you say with your head in the fridge, still searching for the diet coke you know you left inside the door, “did one of you drink my coke–”

“wait what?” matt’s head snaps up, food forgotten.

“hmm?” you turn around to find all three boys looking at you. nick’s mouth open in a half smile and chris clearly trying not to burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. matt’s just staring at you with eyes a little bit too wide before he speaks up.

“what do you mean i sounded weird?” he asks, leaning forward. you notice nick’s shut up about whatever he was saying to the camera earlier, pointing the lens at you now.

“i dunno, when you said sweetheart it just sounded super fucking weird— why are you guys looking at me like that–” you have to ask, feeling slightly weirded out by the intensity of their gazes

“i knew it!!” matt cheers, punching the air and doing a silly little dance as nick doubles over and starts hitting the table.

chris’ jaw drops and he presses his fingers into his eyes as he laughs next to his brother, leaning on him.

matt bounds over to you with a grin, arms wrapping around your waist and lifting you off the ground slightly.

“whaaaat,” you giggle, clearly confused by their reaction. 

“it was me,” chris manages to say between bouts of laughter, “we– we were trying to see if you could tell our voices apart.”

“of course i can tell your voices apart, especially your voice,” you turn towards matt, saying it like it should be obvious, like it’s silly they doubted you for even a second. 

matt’s just grinning at you, feeling a strange sense of pride swelling in his chest, “i knew you could,” 

“bullshit!” chris exclaims, both him and nick still leaning against each other as they laugh.

“he’s right, you were freaked the fuck out,” nick manages to say between giggles, “you watched chris like a fucking hawk when he opened the bathroom door,” he looks over at you, his smile contagious, “he was definitely freaked the fuck out,”

matt groans and drops his head against your shoulder. you brush your fingers through his hair and chuckle to yourself, “awe matt,” you coo, “i definitely know your voice, i’ll probably be hearing lots of it later anyways.”

tags ! @st4rswrld @urfavvev3lyn @mattsturnioloarchive @averysbestyears @its-jennarose

[rafesangelita]

Omg, idea! It can be with Pouge!Sweetheart and Rafe are having sex, and he is choking her (she likes it) but this time she is about to pass out and Rafe is too primal/into the sex to understand that she is trying to tap out and does not hear her. She passes out mid sex, going limp and Rafe absolutely panics trying to wake her up. A bit of a soft Rafe who then is overly attentive feeling so bad.

warnings: unprotected sex, rough sex, asphyxiation, choking, slight praise, dirty talk, loss of consciousness

a/n: poor pogue!sweetheart!reader omg. she’s been punched in the face on accident and now this?? I’m begging y’all to give her a break!

“rafe!” you practically screamed, your hands wrapping around the wrist he had at the column of your throat. while rafe had never been this rough before, he was hesitant as you begged him not to go soft on you. now you found yourself nothing but a whimpering mess, heavy tears rolling down your cheeks as he had you pinned to your bed by the back of your knees. “this is what you wanted? ‘wanted me to choke you while i use this pussy?” you took your bottom lip between your teeth, your head pounding as your vision grew fuzzy.

nodding weakly, rafe’s grip on your neck tightened, his head falling as your velvety walls squeezed around him in a way that made him lose his mind. “so fucking wet, all for me..” he pressed a kiss to your ankle, rolling his hips to meet your clit with each thrust. before you could decipher what was happening, you mumbled a ‘too much’, tapping on his hand as he groaned, leaning down to bury his head in the valley of your breasts. you gasped before black spots began dotting your vision, your eyes fluttering closed as you lost consciousness.

“fuck, these tits are so fucking perfect.” he took a sensitive bud in his mouth, his gaze flickering at your face only to see your head lolled to the side, your lips glossy and swollen. “baby?” it was just then that he realized your entire body was limp, his thrusts slowing down. “y/n?” he grabbed your face, tapping your cheek lightly. panic set in at your lack of response, his eyes widening as he removed his hand from your neck. “oh, fuck!” he pulled out, rushing to pull his boxers on before he scooped you up in his arms.

he continued to lightly slap your cheek, blowing air on your face as he shook you. “come on, baby, you gotta wake up..” his heart was pounding out of his chest as you didn’t budge, his eyebrows drawing together as he got up, running to the small kitchen where he got a damp towel. dabbing your face with the cool cloth, he shook with every second you didn’t stir awake. “fuck!” he whispered, swallowing thickly as regret settled in the pit of his stomach. he knew he shouldn’t have done that much.

rafe kept up his ministrations for a few more minutes before he shook his head, his fists meeting his cheeks before he dialed 911. “911 what’s your emergency?” rafe let out a shaky breath, muttering a ‘uh, m-me and my girlfriend were-’ right before you opened your eyes, blinking up at the ceiling as you moaned. “ray?” you were more confused than anything, your boyfriend hanging up on the operator before he ran to your side. “oh my god.” he sighed, moving your hair off of your shoulder as he covered you with your duvet.

“i was tapping out..” your eyes sparkled up at rafe. he was on the verge of tears, shaking his head as he embraced you. “i didn’t hear you, baby. i’m so fucking sorry.” he pecked your lips, stroking your face as you ran a hand up and down his arm to soothe him. “i don’t know what happened, i was just really into it, i didn’t realize how hard i was squeezing you. i’m so sorry.” he apologized again. coughing softly, you sat up, pulling him onto the bed so he could hold you. “just hold me.” you kissed his cheek, both of you falling asleep shortly after.

the next day, rafe made it his life’s mission to make everything up to you. surprising you with your favorite breakfast, bathing you and putting you in some comfortable clothes, massaging your feet, eating you out until you cried, ordering your carts on all your shopping apps, and showering you with kisses until the sun went down.

[sloaneispunk]

“teacher’s pet” (mdni 18+)

teacher!in-ho x you

when in-ho’s wife tragically passed, he found comfort in a certain student in his class. how far was he willing to go with a student?

✮⋆˙ ──── ୨୧ ──── ✮⋆˙

in-ho had a perfect life. stable job, great friends and a loving wife.

he loved his wife unconditionally, they had the perfect relationship. they rarely argued, and the sex was amazing.

but his life came crumbling when he received a phone call from the hospital. his wife had gotten into a car accident.

in-ho was lost after that, for a few months he stepped down from teaching. he spent his time trying to find his happiness again. it was hard, he was stricken with grief, he thought there was nothing else for him in life.

eventually in-ho felt like he should get off his ass and do something.

he met with the principal of the school he was teaching at, wanting to get back.

he thought of it like a distraction, just something he could look forward to in the daytime.

✮⋆˙ ──── ୨୧ ──── ✮⋆˙

it was the first day of school, students were pushing and shoving to get to class.

you entered the classroom with your friends, seeing a new, unfamiliar teacher at the front of the classroom, taking your seat at the back.

“good morning class, my name is mr in-ho, i’ll be your new math teacher this semester.” the teacher announced as he turned to face the students.

“hey, he’s pretty hot.” you turned to look at your friend with your mouth hung wide open, slapping her on the arm as you both laughed.

lesson went on as per normal that first day, mr in-ho spent the hour introducing himself and getting to know everyone.

as the bell rang, signalling the end of class, everyone packed their bags frantically.

“that’s all, i’ll see everyone tomorrow.” mr in-ho said.

as the students got up to leave, a loud thud was heard from the front of the classroom.

“get up, nerd.” you heard.

you sighed, walking towards the girl who had been tripped by another student, helping her up as you glared at her bully.

“fuck off, what do you want?” you asked, taking a protective stand in front of the poor girl.

the bully said nothing, simply turning on his heel and leaving.

by now, all the students had left, leaving you, the girl, and mr in-ho behind.

“t-thank you.” the girl said, bowing her head as you frowned.

“you don’t have to thank me. he shouldn’t be doing that… are you okay?” you asked.

she then nodded, giving you an awkward smile as you scurried off.

“hey, what’s your name?” you heard a voice call out from behind you.

“oh, i didn’t realise you were still here.” you replied, seeing the new teacher behind his desk, packing his bag. “i’m y/n. y/n l/n.”

“that’s pretty.” he commented, offering you a small smile.

“thank you.” you blushed.

“that was really kind, what you did there.”

“oh, yeah, he has been really mean to many students. poor girl just didn’t have anyone looking out for her.”

“you’re a good girl, y/n.”

oh.

“t-thank you?” you chuckled nervously.

“what’s your next class? maybe i could walk you there.” mr in-ho said as the two of you stepped outside into the hallway.

“english. but i think i’ll be the one leading you.” you joked, causing him to let out a laugh.

✮⋆˙ ──── ୨୧ ──── ✮⋆˙

that night, in-ho went home feeling better than he had been the past few months. he felt like he had really connected with his new students.

they were so kind, so gentle, so sweet…

no, you were.

you were so kind, so gentle, so sweet.

the interaction he had with you kept replaying in his mind, he couldn’t think about anything or anyone else.

you reminded him of someone he used to know, and that fueled him.

the next day, he went to class as per usual. however, he didn’t take your class until noon, which meant he had to wait patiently for your class.

by 11am, he got pretty bored he had to admit. in-ho felt like he was just going through the motions, teaching the different batches of students that came in one after another.

however, when the clock striked 12, oh he was excited.

what he was excited about? he didn’t know.

he then heard a familiar laugh echoing through the halls. he turned to the door, waiting expectantly for you to come through.

the door flew open, revealing not only you to his dismay, but your group of friends surrounding you. he couldn’t make out what you were laughing about but he was incredibly intrigued.

“good afternoon.” you said cheerfully as you gave him a small wave before you took your seat.

in-ho felt a wave of flush run through him, he cleared his throat and ruffled his hair. “good afternoon, y/n.”

“oo, someone already made a move before the rest of us.” your friend teased, nudging your elbow playfully as you rolled your eyes.

time passed quickly as in-ho taught his first lesson to your class. he had found himself stealing tiny glances of you as he walked around, trying his hardest to not make it obvious.

his heart was beating so quickly he thought he could pass out.

maybe he was being delusional, or maybe even hallucinating, but he swore at times when he stole glances, you were already staring. and that made him nearly choke on his words multiple times.

after class, he stayed behind again, hoping that you would somehow approach him, striking up a conversation.

but you didn’t.

someone did approach him, but it wasn’t you. it was your friend.

“so… where did you teach before this? do you like it here? how is it like teaching our class?” she bombarded him with questions.

you took it as a sign to leave.

as you walked out, you turned for one last look. but to your surprise, you were met with the eyes of mr in-ho, as soon as he had been caught, he looked away, pretending to be interested in the conversation.

“see you tomorrow, mr in-ho.” you called out. but before he had the chance to reply, you had left.

somehow, you felt jealous. jealous that he was talking to someone like you first did. but why did it matter? he was just your teacher afterall.

✮⋆˙ ──── ୨୧ ──── ✮⋆˙

that night as he got home, in-ho dropped all his things. he practically ripped open his shirt and unbuckled his pants as fast as he could.

god, he couldn’t get you out of his mind.

he thought of your soft voice and your innocent face as he started to stroke himself.

‘fuck.’ he cursed as he started to go faster, his mind racing with images of your face.

he could almost hear your voice calling his name again. he replayed your laughter over and over again like a broken record.

in-ho went to sleep that night with you and only you on his mind. he knew he was fucked.

✮⋆˙ ──── ୨୧ ──── ✮⋆˙

weeks went by and in-ho found himself getting bolder and bolder.

within a month, he moved on to not so subtle touches.

as he paced around the classroom teaching, he took your seat at the back of the classroom to his advantage. he tested waters initially, brushing against your arm as he walked by.

when you seemed okay with it, he tried to deepen the contact.

he would place a hand on your shoulder as he passed you. when you didn’t move away or seemed uncomfortable, he knew he hit the jackpot.

his touch started to linger for longer than it needed to. somehow he craved touching you more and more.

what made him more desperate was the fact that he could smell your perfume whenever he walked anywhere near you.

it messed with his head in the best way possible.

furthermore, he started to notice how his actions took a toll on you. whenever he gently touched your shoulder, you would draw your legs together. was he really turning you on?

if he had happened to see you in the hallways, he would call you by name, greeting you, even starting small conversations.

he loved how everytime he did so, you light blush would creep onto your cheeks and you would struggle to meet his gaze, looking anywhere but into his eyes.

if this continued, he didn’t know how much he could take. all the cock-teasing, the small interactions.

he wanted more.

✮⋆˙ ──── ୨୧ ──── ✮⋆˙

( bungee jumping off their own - 2001 )