#the main problems i have with the face is putting the eyes too high + the nose too long. been working on that so yea!! :>>

[keeps-ache]

sour apricots and loud floor fans. it's almost summer :D

[backinmyphase]

Being in the same Theater club as Gojo Satoru had its up and downs.

On the one hand you could see him every day - he was tall, had these beautiful eyes and his white hair was always in the right places. He was unbelievable dreamy, or maybe you were just a bit dramatic. But you were in the Drama Club, so who cares?

Yeah, it was obvious. You had a high school crush.

Normally you would celebrate because of the slight chance to even glance at him. But not here, not in the Drama Club. You had always dreamed of playing in the theater, had always wanted to be part of a play. An important part. Like Juliet.

Because on the other hand with Satoru here there was a problem. He had raised his hand to be Romeo.

And you knew you would screw up. Playing as Juliet with Satoru as your Romeo? God, as if that could work. You were a stuttering mess as you auditioned, wanting to die inside because of the way he looked at you. So intense. And then he was so close, whispering into your ear.

"It's alright. You're doing great."

Which only made you mess up more.

It was humiliating. Being told to get off the stage and that even in front of Satoru Gojo. Yeah, your Theater Club dream was going down the drain. Because of course you would be only Extra #3 in the play.

You knew with Satoru here you just couldn't act like you wanted. And that was really bad for this club. Naturally Satoru would be every main character in the future, he was Satoru. You had to work with what was given you.

Even if it was Extra #3.

So after the auditions were finished and the real Juliet was found, you just packed your things. Today wasn't your practice, since... Well, they were just getting into their roles.

Standing up and going to the door, you really didn't expect someone to call after you. Especially not him.

"Hey! Wait for a second!"

Satoru Gojo was running up to you as you held the door in your hand. Satoru. Gojo.

"What is it?" you were a bit too quiet as you liked, but at least you weren't stuttering anymore. Satoru stopped in front of you, breathing a bit heavier but still composed. He smiled and god it was so pretty. It was just so gorgeous how his eyes sparkled and... Thank god you didn't have to be Juliet!

"Where are you going? We are starting to practice our lines!" he tilted his head and a small - nervous? - laugh escaped him.

"Oh, I..." you cleared your throat. Wait, didn't you do that already? Or not?

"I have no lines, Gojo."

He looked at you so confused it was somehow endearing. He blinked a couple of times, his smile becoming a bit more smaller. "What do you mean?"

"I'm just an Extra."

He blinked again, now a big frown overtaking his features. And as he spoke again his voice was even a bit upset. "Really? But you were so good! No, that can't be right, should I talk to the teacher?"

You couldn't help but laugh at his words. "You don't need to lie and do that I was really not that good. You know, stuttering and stuff."

He didn't laugh with you, but his mood seemed to light up a bit. His smile returning a bit smaller. "Doesn't everyone stutter from time to time?"

"Maybe. But someone shouldn't stutter while performing." you shook your head. "And you don't stutter."

He stays silent for a while and somehow it comes to a seemingly infinite minute where the two of you just look at each other. Into his blue eyes. His beautiful eyes.

"You know, I was wondering..." he was whispering again and suddenly he was just a breath away from you, just like back on the stage. "If you could maybe help me practice from time to time?"

You blinked at him. He looked down. "Because with you it seemed easier to be Romeo-"

"SATORU GOJO!!!"

You looked behind him, to see the annoyed face of your teacher. "Come to the practice. Immediately!"

He groaned, a small pout on his face. He put his hands into his pockets, while a sigh escaped him. You couldn't help but chuckle, he looked adorable.

"Well, I gotta go." he mumbled, but didn't make a move to turn around. Just a slight step to the side, a half hearted turn.

"Okay, good luck." you opened the door, a cheeky smile making it's way onto your face. "And of course I'll help you, Romeo."

Part 1

WIP Announcement

[ateliersss]

Downtime and a Bath

Pairing: Yautja x Fem!Reader Summary: Your mate returns from a hunt, in desperate need of a bath. Cross-posted on AO3: here Warnings: English isn't my first language Word Count: 1.823 Before the Blooming Family series

⇨ I'm not exactly happy with it, nor am I sure if it's even worth publishing, but anyways, here it is. I had an idea three hours ago and wrote the thing in two, therefore the poor quality. But hey, at least it's out of my head.

⇨ Also. thank you to each and everyone of you for letting me reach a 1.000 followers a few weeks ago!

It was nighttime.

Lounging on your nest, you tilted your head back and looked out of the window behind you. Upside down, the twin moons, twinkling stars, and other celestial bodies you couldn’t name were occupying the bottom of your view while the wildlife with its mountains and forests extended across the top of your eyesight.

You sighed at the inky-black sky. Mi’ytiar had told you hours ago his hunting trip would end today and you had hoped it would be at a time you were awake. But according to the moons, the night was already half over and you knew you would soon pass out from exhaustion.

Maybe you could rest your eyes for a little bit. There was no problem with that, right? You were already lying in such a comfortable position — the cushions underneath you supporting your body just right, the blanket keeping it neither too warm nor too cold, the pillows behind your head cradling it perfectly. You could just close your eyes and listen to the crackling of the fire around your nest. No shame in that.

You were just dozing off, losing the inner battle against the overwhelming fatigue, when you heard a dull thud that was muffled by the closed door that led to the main area of your home.

“Wha…” You mumbled and pushed yourself up with your eyes still half-closed.

Seconds later, the door slid open and revealed the imposing sight of your mate.

So he was finally home. It made you breathe out a happy sigh and a drowsy smile etched itself onto your lips. You felt instantly at ease at having your mate back home and by your side. Not that you ever felt in danger being without him on the grounds of his clan, but you could never know who or what could force its way into your home when Mi’ytiar was gone. However, you doubted that they could make it far to you. Not only did your mate have his loyal warriors who had their eyes on you when he wasn’t able to himself, but the three Hell Hounds outside would rip anyone with bad intentions apart.

You rubbed your eyes until Mi’ytiar became less blurry and you let them wander over his figure, noting the state he was in. He was covered in dirt, grime, and what you hoped wasn’t his blood. As much as off-putting his appearance was, you were pleased to see that he complied with your wish to keep whatever corpse he had kept as a trophy away from your bedroom and instead leave it on the table in the main room.

You were just about to open your mouth when you flinched back at the intensity with which he was stalking towards you, embodying every aspect of his predatory nature, eyeing you like his next prey.

“No, Mi’ytiar. Don’t you dare!” You protested when it became obvious he was about to climb on your nest, dirtying it with whatever disgusting fluids his body was covered in.

But he didn’t listen, his mind hazy with hunger and overcome by the lasting high of his latest kills. Bad Bloods were a nice challenge and he was thrilled when he discovered that three of them were hunting on a neighboring planet. Their heads were now lying on the sleek black surface of the table outside.

You yelped when his bone-crushing weight settled on top of you, successfully covering your whole body with his, and his face buried itself in the crook of your neck. You could hear and feel the greedy intake of your scent through his nose. His tongue licked over every inch of your skin nearby as his hands roamed your body, his claws already ripping on the fabric of your nightwear.

You would have spread your legs for him, would have helped him take off your clothing, offering every part of your body for him to take, to devour, if the fact that he was just ruining the materials you had used for your nest wasn’t the only thing on your mind right down. As well as the disgusting stench that overwhelmed your nostrils and made you gag.

You weren’t the most flexible, definitely not now, but you still managed to pull up your knee and push him away from you by placing your foot in the middle of his chest. You knew you wouldn’t have succeeded if not for a subconscious part of his mind was still able to obey you even though his logical thinking was clouded with primal need.

Mi’ytiar, though very reluctantly, backed down and sat back on his haunches. His claws dug into his thighs and his chest was heaving with heavy breaths, showing how much strength it required for him to hold himself back.

“I’m sorry, my love, but you reek.” You grumbled and eyed him in disdain.

He only growled back.

“Why don’t we take a bath, hm?” You suggested with a head tilt to the door to your right which led to what you would call a bathroom by human standards.

Sliding sideways off the nest, you walked backward, a smirk on your face and your eyes fixed on him as your fingers fiddled with the knot of your robe, a souvenir you had acquired from one of your trips to Earth.

“Are you coming, tanhì?” You asked him, placing one foot behind the other.

The swishing of the door and the different feeling of the floor covering signaled you had entered the bathroom. The first time you had been inside it when Mi’ytiar had shown you your new home, it reminded you of a cave. Despite the usual futuristic and modern Yautja aesthetic, this room had a natural feeling. It wasn’t unlike the bathroom of the apartment you had lived in with your family decades ago. The necessities had been there. Except for a bathtub. Yautja didn’t necessarily bathe. They swam, yes, but bathe?

You didn’t exactly need a bathtub as you hadn’t used the one you had back then, but after a tiring day, it had been nice to relax in the hot water. Someday, you had voiced your displeasure to Mi’ytiar who had scooped you up and taken you to the hot springs not far from the clan grounds but still inside his territory. And although the sight of it was breathtaking — steam rising from the ponds of water arranged like stair steps so the water could run down from one spring to the next like a waterfall — and the surrounding nature was quite romantic, you weren’t exactly comfortable stripping naked where whatever lurking creature could creep up on you.

You didn’t want to complain, of course, and you would eventually adapt to the fact that you had to forego certain human comforts. That didn’t mean you didn’t share how humans lived compared to Yautja with him whenever a difference in their everyday life occurred, be it the bed, clothes, or the bathtub.

Just as you were getting used to bathing in the hot springs, hidden in the rock crevice, you stumbled over the beginnings of what would soon look like a pool when you walked into the bathroom to relieve yourself. It was nestled into the large niche — square, three meters by three meters — of the room opposite the door where the shower-like setup used to be. When you had asked him what this was about, he had only said “Home.” and left it by that.

Standing in front of said pool, you turned your head to look over your shoulder and watched as the door closed behind Mi’ytiar who had just entered the bathroom. You let the robe slide down your shoulders and to the crook of your arms before letting it pool at your feet. When you turned to face him, you revealed the side profile of your body to his eyes, the swell of your breasts, and the small bump your belly was sporting.

When you thought back to your profession on Earth, you looked like any expectant mother in the late stage of her first trimester. Your baby bump wasn’t that big yet, but you still had to give up on certain items of clothing because they already wouldn’t fit you anymore.

When your belly started to grow, you suddenly remembered that your period should have started roughly two weeks ago. The second your brain had fully comprehended that your mate could have possibly impregnated you, that with the highest probability you carried the product of your mutual love under your heart and that you would soon become a mother, you didn’t waste a second to track him down and tell him the big news.

He hadn’t exactly reacted the way you had hoped. Instead of a positive or negative reaction, instead of pressing his forehead to yours while purring or growling at you to get rid of it, he had just stared. He stood frozen in front of you and fixed your hands which cupped the barely noticeable swell of your stomach.

You had just gained a little bit of weight, he told himself. She couldn’t be pregnant, she couldn’t carry my pup.

How could you, a human, be able to achieve something where others had failed?

He needed answers, so he hastily but carefully picked you up and took you to Cahrein who only confirmed your suspicion. You were indeed pregnant.

Only after a quick talk with the tribal healer, something about “not possible” and “how”, he finally showed you how he really felt — overjoyed. And how could he not? Now that you were carrying his pup, you were connected to your mate in every possible way.

“Are you coming?” You asked him again, one foot dipped into the warm water.

Mi’ytiar didn’t waste any more time getting rid of his armor, not caring about any damage he may cause, as he ripped every piece of it off his body, letting it fall to the ground as he walked to the pool. When he stepped into it, your body was already fully immersed and you swam to where you kept the nourishing oils, sweet-smelling soap, and the washcloth. With everything you needed in hand, you returned to where Mi’ytiar had settled on the bench of the pool. You freed your hands by placing everything on the edge so you could lift yourself up on his lap. Mi’ytiar immediately pulled you closer, one hand wrapped around your thigh, the other embracing your bump.

You didn’t talk while you cleaned him up. You stayed quiet, not feeling the necessity to talk, while he relished in your pampering, only voicing how much he enjoyed it with purrs. And when you were done, you snuggled up to him, cheek pressed against his chest and arms loosely wrapped around him. Mi’ytiar later had to carry you out of the pool, dry you off, and bring you to bed, your sleeping form pressed against his body.

Masterlist: here

Tag List

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[yaymiyas]

ISEKAI!YANDERE!CROWN PRINCE INTRODUCTION

warning: female reader, his name is saer…just so you can follow a bit lol, isekai lol

a/n: it’s structured a bit differently than my other introductions, do note that yes this is x reader but you had gotten isekai’d into a novel so….i do say her name but…..you’re also you…..if that makes sense, also he is hardly in it but its like….an introduction to the story bc its…an isekai and i needed to layout how i wanted everything to be

its not like you didn’t realize something was up. bright white lights blind you right when you open your eyes. maids coming in and out, calling you ‘miss’ and telling you not to sit up because ‘it will harm you even more’. granted, you were very thankful for their words because, around ten minutes before they came in, you attempted to sit up and gave yourself a headache. even though nobody was explaining anything, you remained quiet, trying to gather as much information from the surrounding maids as possible. the red-haired one with tight curls and an everlasting smile was amanda. she seemed to like you much, more than the other two, and tended to you more carefully. maybe she was your personal maid,or maybe she was just good at her job, but she never let up and called you your ‘name’.

admittedly, none of the other two maids called you your ‘name’ either. it was all just ma’am or miss from them. you just expected a hint of your identity from amanda, based solely on her care for you. selfish? maybe but you needed more hints. the other maids are named cynthia and tilly. the former of the two had long black hair slicked into a low bun, with a small maids hair on top to finish the look. it was a cute detail, if you must say, since the other two didn’t wear them. cynthia hardly spoke above a shout, coming off as more soft-spoken than the other two. she wasn’t really rude, nor did she have an attitude while tending to you, but she wore an expression of indifference that made you think she would rather do anything else.

tilly, on the other hand, was more bold than the other two. still not outwardly rude, but she tested your patience a few times. the main one that got to you though, was when she was rubbing your face. while she was washing off your face with the washcloth, she rubbed against your cheeks too hard, and upon this ‘realization’ she gave you a malevolent grin. her thin lips formed an o shape, mimicking the action of saying ‘oops’. luckily, it seemed as if amanda and cynthia didn’t really care for this ‘prank’ of hers. they both scoffed in disgust, continuing to pick out outfits for me to wear for the day ahead.

a soft but stern knock was heard at the door, revealing a man with black slick back hair and yellow eyes to put the look all together. he reminded you of those webtoon male leads that were cold but female audiences loved. being a sucker for those types, you raised your neck up, making sure to keep your body in the same supine position. the man standing at the foot of your bed looked down at you with an expression that you couldn’t read. an expression that wasn’t scary but wasnt welcoming. tapping along the footboard of the bed, he let out a low sigh out that resembled a growl and turned around to leave. tilly, amanda, and cynthia didn’t acknowledge the man. neither did he to them. the only thing that could resemble an interaction between the four of them was when tilly and amanda gave small bows and the slight side eye cynthia gave before going back inside your closet to look for something.

“madam,”

thats a new one.

“lord saer would like you to have breakfast with him today.”

lifting your head enough to turn your focus towards amanda, you started to guess your facial expression was a bit too expressive because amanda started to giggle. the pain in your body wasn’t really high; it was more the numbness that bothered you. moving your neck and head didn’t really take much strength, it was attempting to move your legs that was the problem. walking towards you in a shift movement, amanda placed the rich, deep purple hair piece down on top of the dress set she had picked out for you. upon arrival, she softly removed your blanket and shifted your body into a sitting position. you felt like a doll.

“okay now miss, i will be lifting you up to wash you now.”

placing her right arm underneath the backs of your knees and her left arm supporting your neck, she quickly moved you to the area you’re assuming was the bathroom. the door to the large room was already open, since once she had lifted you up, cynthia had pushed the door open and walked in herself. the room was massive, twice the size of a normal person’s kitchen. the walls and floor tiles were both the same shade of pale pink, matching the sleeping set you had on. amanda sat you down in a chair and started to strip you down. while she was doing that, the other was running the bath water and testing if it was safe enough. every time the water was a bit too hot or too cold, you saw cynthia’s eyes squeeze shut.

“alright madam edina,”

cynthia sighed, standing up from the clam shaped tub.

“it’s all set for you. please do not make it hard as you have always done.”

not sparing you even a small look, she and amanda were already picking you up and guiding you into the tub. quietly instructing you to lay back, wet, cold liquid found its way both on your scalp and on your legs. edina? are you sure thats what she said? the only edina you knew of was the villainess from the hit novel “obsession falls”. you never really read the book, but you knew of the characters and the content that surrounded it. it was rather controversial for how obsessive and dangerous the male lead was. he had stalked the female lead for years, and it didn’t stop once he got married. with a wife so dismissive and uninterested, the male lead was given all the time in the world to go hunt his prey.

unfortunately for him, once edina randomly started to care about what her husband was doing during the day he had to slowly stop. losing the love of his life to the second male lead, alastair. due to this very random string of events, saer had grown irritated by the events his wife was clumsily stringing together. he then decided to take care of his wife, edina. the night before he was to go and kill alastair, he had poisoned the dinner he had helped make for his wife. from your memory, this was one of the few times in years he had asked his wife to sit at the table and eat with him. she would usually just take her food into her room separately. this night, edina came into the dining room with her most expensive jewelry and dress. she thought this was the night her husband was going to admit his faults and leave the female lead for her. however, what actually ended up happening was that the moment she took a bite out of her steak, her vision went black and her head banged on the table.

focusing on the soft brushes of your hair, you start to put the pieces together. you don’t remember the faces of any of the characters in the story, you just remember the basic blot and conflict. if what cynthia said was true, that you are in fact edina tudor gwynn then that means the reasoning for your stiff body was because of your ‘husband’ trying to kill you. sharply sucking in some air, you seek strength within your legs. even though the lower half of your body was still partially numbed, the feeling of pins and needles filled the tip of your toes to the back of your knees. not wanting to cause much of a scene, even though you were sure she wouldn’t care much, you looked up to check to see if your maid was paying you any mind. cynthia was too focused on rinsing your body, while amanda stopped brushing your hair to grab towels for you.

“cynthia,”

it was amazing how you could even get that out. due to the affects of the poison, your throat had become overly dry and it hurt you to even swallow. that was mainly one of the reasons as to why you hardly spoke to them this morning. stopping in her tracks, she lazily turned her head into your direction. the woman didn’t have much of any emotion on her face. her eyelids halfway down, making it appear that she was tired or just bored. her lips were in a thin line. you had hardly seen her smile or really speak, so you started to believe this was just how her resting face looked like.

“why did he poison me?”

tilting her head a bit, cynthia’s facial expression changed. it was as if your question intrigued her. her low eyelids raised a bit, along side her eyebrows, as she tried to tame the smile that was creeping on her thin lips. this was the most expressive you have ever seen her. she began to part her lips when amanda came back through the door with the towels.

“perhaps this conversation will need to be revisited, my lady.”

[guksfairy]

melonpan | JJK

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST | PLAYLIST

wc: 1.3k

notes: fluff, barista hits on jk... :), unbothered y/n <3

enjoy ! <3

“We could go to that new cafe that just opened up?” You suggest. Jungkook’s eyes are on the road, his left hand on the steering wheel, and his right on your thigh.

You had both planned to spend the day together as neither you nor Jungkook had any classes and there was a gentle breeze of cold. The sky was filled with clouds daring to rain or snow. It was weather you didn’t mind much. In fact, you welcomed it. It made you want to lay in bed wrapped around blankets with Jungkook watching a movie.

There was only a problem. Neither one of you had anything planned for the day. You both just knew you wanted to spend the day with one another.

“Sure, didn’t they open it last month?”

“Yeah but I was waiting for it to die down a bit so it’s not too crowded when you and I go,” you say and when he stops at a red light he hands you his phone to put the directions.

Perhaps you didn’t wait long enough. The cafe was still somewhat crowded with only a table or two available for customers.

Your arm was wrapped around Jungkook’s as you take notice of the space and area. They had already placed a couple Christmas decorations here and there. Finally, your eyes land on the pastries displayed near the front counter.

Gasping you tap Jungkook’s shoulder as you wait in line for your turn, “Koo look they have melonpan!” You say pointing to a pastry you loved.

You had first tasted it a couple years back when you, Jimin, Eunwoo, and Areum had visited Japan for your high school graduation trip. Remembering how delicious it tasted then, you wondered if it would still be just as good.

“If you want I can place our order and you just worry about securing us a table,” Jungkook suggests and you nod thinking it’s for the best. Realizing that there was now only one table open.

“Okay I’ll be over at that one,” you point to the empty table next to the window and he nods, taking your hand and giving it a kiss before you walk away to the table.

After two others in front of Jungkook had placed their order, it’s finally his turn.

“Hi-oh,” the barista seems to be taken back but Jungkook gives it no thought as she tries her rehearsed introduction again, “Sorry-my name is Jieun. Can I get your name for this order?” Jungkook replies with his name and she continues, “What can I get for you today?” with giggles sprinkled throughout the sentence Jungkook, again, gives it no thought and orders what you wanted along with his order.

“Can I also get a melonpan-the pink rabbit shaped one,” he points to the pastry knowing you’d love that one, “Of course. Anything else?” and Jungkook shakes his head no.

“Your total is ₩7,000,” that is what gets Jungkook’s attention.

“Woah this cafe’s prices are cheap,” he says and looks down at the card reader ready to scan his phone for payment.

“Well the total is ₩14,200 but I thought I’d give you half and some off. On the house,” Jungkook looks up at her. Her face is flushed and she’s smiling as wide as she can, she takes a strand of her hair and places it behind her ear.

“Excuse me?”

“I just thought you were cute and I’d pay for your food. Sort of shooting my shot here,” she giggles and covers her mouth in shyness.

Jungkook looks in your direction, the light from outside is hitting you so pretty you look like an angel, but your focused on your phone that’s on its side. He assumes you’re playing that game where you care for cats or something. He doesn’t remember the details of your game but he knows you put his name down as your significant other in it.

“Just because you’re cute doesn’t mean I’ll let you hold up the line,” the voice takes him out of his train of thought and he’s back at staring at the girl in front of him.

“Can I just pay for the full amount?”

“You don’t want my discount?”

“I just think it would make my gorgeous girlfriend uncomfortable,” Jungkook’s finger points to you, your eyebrows furrowed in concentration at your game and he can’t help but smile.

“Girlfriend?”

“Can I pay?”

The girl doesn’t say anything else as she removes the discount from his order and allows him to pay for everything. She avoids speaking and eye contact as the transaction is approved and his receipt comes out of the register.

“Next!” she yells and looks right behind him.

Jungkook laughs to himself as he walks towards you and pulls out the chair in front of you.

“You won’t believe what happened,”

“The barista hit on you?” you say and turn your phone off giving him your full attention.

Did you hear the conversation? Regardless, you didn’t look upset nor jealous, in fact you had a smirk on your face and a slight wiggle to your eyebrows, teasing him.

He couldn’t help but laugh at your actions.

“Yes actually,”

“I was just guessing but I wouldn’t have doubted it. Look at you,” you lean forward and cup his face, gently rubbing his cheeks with you thumb. Jungkook’s heart melted on the spot.

You didn’t notice the way the barista at the front counter rolled her eyes when she turned to look for Jungkook and saw you cupping his face.

“She offered me half off on my total but I denied it,” he says and you gasp.

“We could have gotten half off?”

“Y/N~,” he says and you giggle when you see his semi-serious expression.

“I’m kidding my love,” you kiss his nose and lean back into your chair.

“What’d she say when you told her you had a super cute hot girlfriend?” you playfully ask and his arm goes across the table to hold your hand in his.

“Nothing. She sort of stayed quiet and didn’t even look at me anymore,” Jungkook recalls and you let out a small laugh.

Serves her right for trying to get with your man.

After about 5 minutes of you showing Jungkook your 12 cats and how you named them all, your order was finally called.

“For Jungkook!”

“I’ll be right back,” Jungkook gets up from his seat and you watch as he walks to the side counter where your yummy bread and warm beverages were sitting.

“Would you like any straws or stirring sticks?” the male barista asks and Jungkook shakes his head no.

“By the way man, your friend is really pretty. Is she seeing anyone?” the guy says looking directly at you. Your starring back, at Jungkook, with a smile.

“Yeah. Me,” this time Jungkook wasn’t trying to be polite. He stared at the guy with intensity as his smile faded and he apologized to Jungkook.

Jungkook grabs your drinks and the little paper bag holding your pastry before rolling his eyes and turning to walk back to you.

He doesn’t hesitate in his actions.

He sets the three items down on the table and takes the seat next to you this time.

He grabs you gently by your chin and kisses you. You don’t mind it. Considering that the girl was still starring at Jungkook when he was talking with the guy up front, you more than welcomed his public display affection.

As he pulls away he makes sure to kiss your nose before properly sitting and displaying your food and beverage in front of you.

“Everything okay?” you giggle.

“I just think I need to let everybody in this goddamn cafe know that we’re together,” he replies and you laugh before tearing off a piece of your melonpan and feeding it to him.

[sytoran]

ARSONIST'S LULLABYE

kinktober day 011 | cheerleader!natasha x player!reader

"don't you ever tame your demons but always keep them on a leash" — arsonist’s lullabye, hozier

summary. natasha gets more attached than expected after a one-night-stand with the college's infamous player, both on the field and with the ladies. however, she's always been good at getting what she wants.

rating 18+ | word count 7438 (shittt)

note. natasha is 18 and y/n is 19, y/n is described to be masc-representing (eg. cropped hair, compression tee + grey sweats, tattoos, piercings)

note ii. please please please please take your time to read it, you don't understand how long i've spent pondering over every intricacy in this fic.

note iii. drinking game: take a shot every time i say 'don't fall for the player'

kinktober masterlist || main masterlist

Don’t fall for the player.

This was a warning, circulating within the hallways of Avengers Institution, whispered under hushed breaths and divine lips.

Students in this renowned college came from all walks of life — from children of billionaires to self-made achievers, from prodigal minds to brilliant brains. One thing stood for certain, though, and that was the infamous Y/N L/N.

It was a rumour, tried and true, that every single girl — regardless of their sexuality, physical appearance, or social status — would all eventually fall under the spell of the school’s “player”. Try as they might, victim after victim fell helplessly for an effortless charisma and unstoppable magnetism.

The chase never lasted long, a one-sided apex predator hunt. Once you had your eyes set on someone, there was simply no escaping the undeniable fact that the following morning, that girl would wake up in bed next to you.

Problem was, you had this rule, written in stone: Never sleep with a girl more than once.

Alas came the cruel and vicious cycle of girls falling under your spell within milliseconds, only to have their heart shattered within the next twenty-four hours. Sometimes even less.

Boys looked on in jealousy, girls looked on in intrigue. (Or maybe jealousy, too.) The wiser ones kept a distance, but either way, one fact stood true, the moment one stepped into Avengers Institution.

Don’t fall for the player.

Little did you know, soon would arrive a thorn in your plans, an unwanted distraction, your ultimate downfall.

All due to an equally irresistible girl by the name of Natasha Romanoff.

***

“You’re fuckin’ impressive for a freshman, Natasha,” Pepper whistles, clapping her on the back. “Consider yourself a member of the Avengers Institution’s cheerleading squad.”

Natasha nods breathlessly, dropping the pom-poms onto the ground. She had just completed a complicated routine for the cheerleading tryouts, a rigorous one with flips and twirls that required pristine balance.

“I guess that’s expected from a girl who was with the Red Room,” Sharon adds, somewhat snidely. She was another freshman trying out for the cheerleading squad, with a snake-like smile that was coated with too much venom to convey any sort of genuineness.

Natasha returns the smile blankly, false emotions overtaking her face like second nature — propriety, expectations, rectitude. She knew what those words meant, when they put emphasis on the Red Room.

The Red Room, in question, was one of the highest-class organisations internationally that trained talented young female cheerleaders. With a near overly-daunting curriculum, payment fees so impossibly high, and only the most renowned instructors, the Red Room was essentially associated with filthy rich wealth and spoiled privileged kids.

And such comes the tragedy of warped views on capitalism and the unfairness of the world. Sharon leans next to Natasha’s ear in the false pretence of picking something up, but her lips move dangerously swiftly and whisper, “Daddy’s money lets you get everything you want, hm?”

It only takes a second, and then the faux-innocent perpetrator briskly moves away as if nothing had occurred. Natasha stands still, the gripe washing over her back like a cold shower. She steels her shoulders, refusing to be provoked. It wasn’t her fault she’d been born with a silver-studded spoon in her mouth.

Shrugging off the strange looks some of the other girls give her, Natasha hides her annoyance by fiddling with her short skirt. Alongside college came the novelty of less-strict clothing etiquette, and that resulted in the most miniscule cheerleading skirts Natasha had ever worn in her life.

“Ready on the count of three,” Carol announces, tapping her clipboard with a ballpoint pen, surveying the expanse of the wide field.

It wasn’t Natasha’s fault she simply got everything she wanted.

“One.”

An invisible force of magnetism pulls Natasha’s gaze to the bleachers above the field, unyielding and unstoppable. There stands a tall and dark figure in a relaxed position, looking directly at her with piercing eyes. A shiver of anticipation sweeps through the air, and Natasha feels goosebumps rise on her skin.

“Two.”

Aloof charisma exudes from the person’s very presence, so compelling and captivating that it takes Natasha a moment to realise that there’s another girl standing next to the enigmatic soul. She’s chatting animatedly, under a false belief that she’s got your attention, but Natasha knows better.

Her eyes travel over the person’s sculpted figure clad in a leather jacket, tacit confidence written in your lazy smirk and composed posture. Electricity erupts in Natasha’s bloodstream, sending shockwaves coursing through her mindwires, forcing her to look back up to your alluring, forsaken eyes.

“Three.”

Natasha’s body moves mechanically, practised and poised. The rhythm thrumming from the portable speaker seeps into her practised muscles without her brain actually registering it, still reeling from the sheer impact of you.

If there was a fracture in her composure, if her routine was ever-so-slightly off, if her legs trembled more than it normally would’ve, Natasha would blame you.

Natasha would blame you and your stupid smirk, your silly leather jacket, your sickeningly magnetic allure. How you made her feel unstoppable with that come-hither gaze, then left her so low when your eyes inevitably left her.

And suddenly, like a golden key slotting into place, the words Natasha had heard whispered in the hallways finally made sense. The coveted prayer that could only be spoken under hushed tones and divine lips.

Don’t fall for the player.

When Natasha finishes the series of tumbles that ignites impressed cheers from the senior cheerleaders, she lifts her lowered eyes back to the bleachers.

Only to find your lips locked with the blonde girl from before, your hands creeping dangerously low on her back. You move like a predator python, the silver piercings in your ears glinting in the light with every of your calculated moves.

A burning feeling courses through Natasha’s veins, like an ugly green monster unfurling gradually, indescribable anger making her jaw tick.

Don’t fall for the player? Well, now that just sounded like a challenge.

***

Natasha makes her way through the crowd of students filing out from the lecture hall. The chatter fades to a background buzz in her ears as she beelines towards a group of more bearable folks.

“No, they’re a sophomore,” Wanda explained, leaning against the locker door.

“Who’re we talking about?” Natasha intercepts with a curious gaze, slinging an arm around Clint lackadaisically. Professor Banner’s lectures were highly educational, but he tended to drone on a little, and she could feel the rising boredom making its slow crescendo into the back of her mind.

Clint raises his eyebrows amusedly, then lowers his voice in humorous dramatisation. “The player.”

Natasha’s face flashes in recognition at your title. Several things flit across her mind in rapid succession — a fetching character, a lofty smirk, and a pretty girl hanging off a forearm.

“So, this uh… What’s her name?” Natasha tries to ask subtly, faking an expression of indifference. Clint, as always, side-eyes her with a playfully accusatory glance. Natasha shrugs with an odd feeling of guilt.

“Well, I’m a sophomore too, so I do have the guilty pleasure of knowing Y/N L/N,” Wanda said with a bit of a grin.

“Knows her in more ways than one!” Sam cackles, ducking as Wanda swipes at him.

Natasha feels that burning feeling rising in her chest again, and perhaps it was due to the knowledge that someone else had experienced being in bed with you — which was arguably silly, because of course you slept with plenty of women, but that didn’t quell her growing unease.

“Was the sex really that good?” Clint asks bluntly, folding his arms as he leans against the locker next to Darcy. Natasha chokes on air.

Wanda only raises an eyebrow, as if to question the poor boy of his doubts of your sexual prowess. Her knowing smirk told a thousand tales, of your sentient being seemingly reincarnated from a Goddess of Sex, of your mighty skillset of lust, the ultimate sapphic enigma.

“You tryna pull a lesbian, birdboy?” Natasha asks dryly, nudging Clint in the rib. The jibe doesn’t even give her that satisfaction. Thinking about you again had unnerved her very skin, causing clammy hands and a dry mouth.

“She leaves all the girls the morning after, though, so don’t get your hopes up,” Wanda sighs wistfully, waving her hand in the air as if she prophesied of a legend. “It’s a one-night-wonder. Kind of like an eclipse. Only happens once, but when it does, it’s really astronomical.”

Natasha flexes her fingers to get her blood flowing. All this talk about your specialised skillset in bed was making her heart flutter, in the best way possible, but maybe that per se was the worst thing possible.

Because she might acknowledge that you were attractive, but that didn’t necessarily mean she wanted to sleep with you, right?

“And that’s why it's a common tongue around here,” Wanda concludes. “Don’t fall for the player. Simple as that.”

On cue, the noise in the hallway comically fades to silence. The gathered crowds of students make way for a quickly striding figure, clad in the same dark clothing Natasha thought about day and night.

Crossing the hallway with an easy purpose and confident composure, you walk past girls who could be seen swooning. Your gaze slides over them casually, sending small smiles here and there but never really quite focusing.

Until your eyes meet Natasha’s, of course. Like a love scene straight out of a drama, your composure cracks fractionally, and your loose confidence is subverted. It only takes a second before your persona snaps back into place.

“Hey, Natasha,” A smooth voice spills out from your angel-crafted lips. Your voice runs over her weak-willed skin, suddenly so vulnerable in your presence, and then you’re gone.

Natasha stills in place, staring after your disappearing figure. Your two words had left such a searing imprint into the front of her mind that it was honestly concerning. The chatter rises again, as if you were never there.

“Looks like you’re Y/N’s next conquest,” Wanda comments, mildly impressed. “Good luck, my friend. Just remember, don’t fall for the player.”

***

Why on earth there was a dorm party on the second day of school was a question that would forever remain unanswered.

Perhaps the adolescent spirit was the root cause of it, free and tameless and reckless, or maybe it was the temptation of alcohol and attractive folks, intoxicating and thrilling.

Either way, Natasha was here for a good time, not a long time.

Her short midnight dress flounces as she makes her way over to the partially occupied couch, the rather risky slit making its way up her thigh to reveal awfully beddable skin.

“Hey, babe!” Wanda calls enthusiastically, waving her over. There’s a Matrix movie playing on the screen, Natasha isn’t clear of which one, and there are students sprawled over the couch, the floor, and on each other.

She ends up playing a game of truth or dare with strangers, driven by warm bodies and the repetitive encouragement to indulge in a little bit of ‘fun’.

“Truth!” Darcy yells drunkenly, almost crushing her red solo cup of cheap alcohol.

“Jeez, woman,” Carol mutters, sighing at the tipsy girl’s antics. “So, truth— ever had a threesome?”

A bunch of ‘ooh’s wave like a ripple through the huddle of students, but Darcy answers with surprisingly quick coherence for a woman on her sixth cup of beer. “Hell yeah,” she drawls. “Y/N and Jane. Best night of my fuckin’ life.”

Natasha feels that wildly uncomfortable feeling of butterflies fluttering — no, thrashing, around in her stomach. It’s absolutely ridiculous that she’s so easily unsettled by you.

Said Jane Foster flushes in her seat, clearly embarrassed at having her sex life exposed. She waves a hand, trying to quiet down the growing hoots and whistles. “I mean, is it really that surprising, guys? I’m definitely not the only one! Okay, jerks, who else has laid with the famed Y/N L/N?”

Immediately, all eleven women in the dorm room have their hands raised. Well, all except Natasha, that is.

“Oh, she’s a free woman!” Valkyrie yells out, pumping her fist, and the crowd of women let out victorious cheers. “Our last standing soldier!”

Natasha smiles awkwardly in the limelight of all these older students, the strangling sensation in her gut growing stronger.

Seriously? ‘The Player’ has already slept with all these pretty girls in her second year? I would never sleep with someone who treats sex so meaninglessly…

Natasha refocuses on the game, dispelling all her thoughts that seemed to constantly circulate around you. In the bleachers, in the hallway, and now in a dorm party…

So why is Y/N L/N a muse in my mind? Why is she so inescapable?

After about six rounds of revealing shameful truths and accepting rather pointless dares, Natasha’s ready to ditch the scene altogether.

She’s barely touched any alcohol, but it was honestly a shame that her imagination was still so lucid. Getting some of that cheap beer into her system would probably help her to relax quicker, and to stop thinking about you.

“Hey, uh,” she whispers to Wanda. The older girl pulls her gaze away from the current life of the party to regard Natasha with a drunken smile.

“What’s up, Nat?” Wanda drawls, sprawling forward a little too close for comfort. Natasha cringes at her beer-tinted breath. Wanda murmurs softly, “Hey, you got a lil somethin’ in your eye. Looks like a little cloud… Oh, that’s just the light. Silly me, silly–”

“Wanda, I’m gonna head back now. Don’t worry about me,” Natasha says, slightly impatiently but affectionate nonetheless, patting Wanda’s head.

“Awh, okay,” Wanda responds drunkenly, breaking off into a little giggle as Natasha gets up. “Hey, Nat?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t fall for the player, yeah?” Wanda asks with an innocent smile, but her eyes are reminiscent of a ghost doing its last haunting. Then Wanda’s gone, gone with the wind, her attention lost to the exhilarating game of truth and dare.

There’s a moment of quiet in Natasha’s mind, save for the explicit Nicki Minaj song playing in the background with lyrics that would make a stripper blush.

She had heard that simple statement all too many times. Almost like she was meant to hear it. Like it was a premonition, a foreshadowing.

With the odd feeling of being defenceless, Natasha makes a beeline for the door. She’s had enough of silly conservations and awful thoughts; conversations that encircled around the subject of The Player, and awful thoughts of hers that always ended up being about you.

However, a shining bottle of cheap alcohol catches Natasha’s attention from the makeshift bartending station, essentially a kitchen counter. “Wouldn’t hurt, I guess,” she mutters under her breath, reaching out to grab a bottle for herself.

“Ah, that beer’s shite. The good one’s in the cupboard.”

Embarrassingly startled by the familiar smooth voice that greets her, Natasha jumps in her own skin. You again, she thinks with such indignation. What kind of sheer audacity did you have to approach her, after you were making out with another girl just the other day–

All coherent thoughts left Natasha’s mind when her eyes rake over your short-sleeve compression shirt that clung to your abdomen and arms like a vacuum-sealed package. Paired with grey sweats, it was such a beguiling mixture of taut muscles and casual wear that had Natasha growing hotter under her skin.

“I guess it’s alright for me to assume I’ve chosen the right attire for today,” you say, folding your arms in a little bit of satisfaction. That has Natasha staring at the black tattoos that decorate your thick forearms, and she’s half-crazed by the alluring sight.

Perhaps you’re showing off a little more than you normally would, but the girl standing before you was one that had invaded your mind for days on end, which was entirely uncharacteristic of your constantly horny brain.

“Can I ask you a question?” Natasha asks snarkily, returning your confidence with her very own crossed arms. Your eyes don’t miss the way her awfully kissable lips form the words on her tongue, and you certainly don’t miss the way her crossed arms push up her cleavage.

You lick your lips imperceptibly, and you notice the way Natasha’s eyes follow the movement with a hawk-like gaze. “Go ahead, sweetheart,” you respond easily, taking a single step closer to the object of your desires.

Natasha scoffs at the pet name, but you can see your close proximity subverts her composure in the slightest. Unable to keep your hands to yourself, you reach out to place your hands on her altar-like hips. She bristles under your touch, but she doesn’t move.

“Why’re you so fucking arrogant?” Natasha finally asks, hating how breathless she sounds, struggling to keep cool as your ring-adorned hands thumb the material of her short dress. You’ve got her entrapped between the kitchen counter and your sinfully sculpted body, with no way of escape. (Not like Natasha was looking for one.)

“Brat.” The dry laugh that sounds from your throat has Natasha’s heart pounding, a choked sound of pleasure caught in the back of her throat. Your big hands have moved to her sides, cradling her waist tenderly but withholding power, as if you’re ready to dig your fingertips into her soft skin at any given moment.

She thinks it’s unfair, the way your eyes are damn near psychedelic. They’re screens of mercury, smouldering and smoking with the way it trails over her body. If you’re a spark of fire, Natasha is a pool of gasoline that feeds your will.

Hot lips slant against Natasha’s ear lobe, taking it between your teeth as she shudders. Natasha’s breathy release of air as she fights to keep silent has you tugging on her earlobe with pure want.

“Can I ask you a question?” you ask, your voice a touch lower than it had been before, your hands tightening its grip on her deadly hips, the metal of your rings cool against her hot skin.

The overwhelming sensation of your big hands, hot lips and sharp teeth is enough to have Natasha’s eyes fluttering shut. She almost loses control of herself, almost lets herself fall victim to your hypnotic touch — But then you pull away, and a desperate little whine nearly falls from Natasha’s lips.

The cheerleader swallows as she stares at your crafted face, your eyes darkened with something far deeper than want, your lips tugged upwards into a devilish smirk.

“My room or yours?”

Natasha would like to say that the rest was a blur, and her alcohol-tainted memories got lost in translation — but it was a shameful and unequivocal statement that she had been entirely sober, and yet recalled every single detail of that night to vivid precision.

***

Natasha remembers you pressing her up against your door, a fervent urgency of lust unlocked within the confines of your dorm.

“So fucking desperate,” you grunt, hips knocking into Natasha’s front as you pin her against the door, lithe legs wrapped around your muscled torso.

“Shut the fuck up,” she spits, throwing her head back as your sharp teeth sink into the softness of her porcelain neck. The edge of your canines are hard and unforgiving, just how Natasha likes it, just how you scatter dark hickeys across her pale skin.

You smirk at her brattiness, finding it an exceptionally arousing trait of hers. “Pretty girl, you’re not the one in charge,” you tease, with your words and with your hands, dragging your fingertips up and under her short dress.

Natasha remembers her fingers twisting into your hair as you play her like a fiddle, teasing and edging and so blatantly talented like a prodigal concertmaster.

She whines as the cool metal of your rings nudges her nipples, her sensitivity skyrocketing with the shock. “More,” she tries to demand, but it ends up sounding like a helpless whimper and your hands move with such purpose.

You don’t help her cause by taking a hardened bud between two fingers and tugging, cries and whimpers following your fingers. Heaven is the way her breasts look all marked up by your mouth, hardened nipples and raw skin dancing in your vision.

Natasha’s nails dig into your hardened abdomen, scraping at your every muscle for all it was worth. It was something about you, something about the look in your eye, something about the way you commandeered her body with such precision and control like it was meant to be.

Natasha remembers her complete relinquishment of power, giving herself up for you, with a sick urge to be fucked within an inch of her life and then some.

Your right hand slides across her damp inner thigh to brush at her demesnes, and the sheer wetness that awaits your fingers makes you growl against her skin. “So fucking wet,” you grunt, peeling apart the thin material of her panties that cling to her sodden pussy with strings of slick.

Natasha wails, face completely flushed and so utterly gorgeous, and you can’t help but meet her lips with clashing tongue and teeth. She moans as your pierced tongue explores her mouth, and you drink up her cries of pleasure.

“Wanna fuck you silly,” you pant against her ear, fingers tracing the outline of her pretty pussy, dragging arousal along with it. Your knee keeps her legs spread nicely apart for the taking, and the vulnerability you bring out of Natasha is perhaps also the hottest thing.

Humiliation is the way Natasha agrees so quickly, nodding dumbly in acquiescence, thinking it would be nice to feel her brain melt to mush with your thick fingers and prodding tongue.

Natasha remembers the earth-shattering pleasure that wracks her body, as you divulge in providing, by leaps and bounds, the best sex she’s ever had.

Three fingers slide in and out of her dripping cunt at a phenomenal pace, and Natasha’s panting like a dog, tight velvet walls clenching around the thickness of your fingers for all it’s worth.

Finger-fucking her against the door like a heaven-descent, you bask in Natasha’s cries of pleasure. It’s never been like this, never been this heated. With Natasha, you felt like you were ascending.

“You’re gonna make a mess on the fucking floor,” you bite, a low gasp caught in the back of your throat. Natasha’s head lolls to the side, high-pitched whimpers making themselves known as she drips down your wrist and her thighs.

Natasha remembers the unravelling, the way her body seizes up out of its own accord, electricity erupting behind her half-lidded eyes.

Your hands dig into the plush of her thighs as you bring Natasha to a stupendous climax. Your fingers curl harshly, hitting her sweet spot and drawing out obscene noises from her.

���Fuck–” Natasha chokes out, high-pitched and breathy and absolutely delightful. Her hips jerk in your hands as your fingers move inside her.

“Another,” you grunt, not a request, and before Natasha can get ahold of her senses your fingers are thrusting again. She wails as your wrist jackhammers into her wet cunt, slick sounds echoing around the four walls of your room.

The second orgasm arrives even more harshly than the first, and Natasha clings onto the broad muscles of your back as you pin her against the door, toes curling and eyes squeezing shut.

She thinks she could find solace in the way your arms entrap her in a certain type of warmth, almost as if you don’t want to let her go.

But that would just be a hopeless fantasy, wouldn’t it?

Natasha remembers waking up the next morning to an empty bed.

The morning air is too cold on her bare skin. Your side of the bed isn’t even warm anymore. You must’ve left ages ago, in the dark of the night, and that thought in itself has Natasha choking on emotions she’d rather not feel.

Her clothes are still strewn on the floor and the furniture is a mess, a mockery of how far she’d let you go last night, driven by an inescapable high.

This is the game you play. Toying with girls' hearts like it was child’s play, making them feel like they were one in a million for one night only. All that alluring charisma was ugly and falsified, viewed through rose-tinted glasses.

This is the game you play, and Natasha Romanoff had fallen victim to it.

Don’t fall for the player.

Now, it was just another warning sign that she’d overlooked, and she was just like those other girls, stumbling into your open arms and cocky smirk.

Vehement fury slugs inside the cheerleader, as she forcefully picks up her strewn clothes.

Then she looks around the dorm room, your room, and time stills for a moment.

She’d expected it to be somewhat furnished, like all other dorm rooms were, maybe a cactus in the corner or a poster of a rockstar. Instead, your walls are blank and there isn’t a trophy or an award in sight.

You’re the captain of the football team, above average in academics, yet there isn’t a trace of the mark you’ve left as a student at Avengers Institution. There isn’t a trace that you’re a living, breathing human, with emotions that craft your very humanity.

Scarily enough, she feels like she’s laid in the bed of a complete stranger.

And suddenly, Natasha understands.

Don’t fall for the player.

Suddenly, everything feels a little too real, and Natasha comprehends that the statement holds far more depth than what your reputation suggested.

You were just fucking scared.

Scared of commitment, scared of growing attached, scared of being abandoned. You feared getting your heart broken, and thus you feared the longevity of relationships that involved love and romance.

As Natasha picks up her strewn clothes from the floor, with aching limbs and dishevelled hair, only one statement rings in her mind.

Don’t fall for the player.

“Maybe I will,” Natasha whispers to the ghost of your handsome, misunderstood self in the room. “But haven’t you heard I always get what I want?”

***

You couldn’t fall asleep.

You watch the empty sky as you sit on the empty rooftop of the school at four in the morning, a cigarette hanging limp between your lips. There’s an underlying anger bubbling beneath your skin, an itch that you can’t find, simply stewing there to your frustration.

Romance was bullshit.

It was plainly obvious from the way girls approached you. Flirty eyes and feather-light touches meant only one thing. And they were all so pretty, so who were you to complain, right?

All those girls always ended up in your dorm bed, sweaty and short of breath. Your heart would pound, and your mind would go wild with endless possibilities of what could happen if they just stayed.

“You can stay if you want,” you muttered off-handedly to one of your first few hookups in college. The look that the girl returned was so unimpressed that you never asked that question again.

But it was okay, because sex was something that you were good at, and those girls had their fun. It was okay, even if there was something missing. It was okay that your reputation preceded your identity. Even if those expectations spiralled far beyond your control.

With every passing girl you brought to bed, the gnawing hole in your chest only grew bigger. You craved something that you couldn’t obtain. Even if your heart was crawling out of its ribcage every time a girl breathed your name, every time she laid a hand on your chest.

Last night, Natasha Romanoff took that gaping hole in your chest and ripped it right open.

“Please, Y/N,” Natasha had whined, and there was reverent devotion in the way you held her hips, in the way you pulled her close.

“Stay,” you had wanted to whisper, so badly, so many times, but her hands were streaking red marks down your back and her body was shuddering under yours.

So you kept your forbidden mouth shut and continued to do what you did best. All the ‘what-ifs’ were just hopeless dreams. You couldn’t stay, you couldn’t commit. You weren’t allowed to, not after the expectations that had been set for you.

Romance was bullshit, after all.

“You seem troubled,” a female voice announces from behind you, but you don’t bother to turn back. Taking your silence as consent, the girl sits next to you.

“Give me a light,” the girl says, leaning closer to you, and only then do you turn to look her over. Blonde girl, 5’8, blue eyes. Freshman.

“Sharon Carter, right?” you ask indifferently, and the girl lets out a bemused huff as she makes her comfortable next to you.

“Wow, so you do know every girl in this school,” Sharon comments, and there’s a teasing lilt in her voice that hints at how this is going to end up.

You pull out a cigarette, passing it over to the blonde girl, noting how her fingertips brush over yours for a second too long. “Maybe I do,” you respond with false cockiness, the smirk overtaking your face almost unconsciously.

This is the right thing to do, you convince yourself, as Sharon’s hand creeps to your thigh. One girl after the other. You couldn’t get attached.

“Impressive. Put away your light. It’s healthier to destress in another way,” Sharon whispers, tossing her cigarette to the rough concrete.

What a waste, you think, but then the same could be said about a lot of other things in your life.

For a fraction of a second, you contemplate your existence. You wonder why you’ve ended up this way. What you’ve done to deserve girls throwing themselves at you when you began to despise all of them.

When Sharon brings her lips closer to yours, and you find yourself meeting her halfway, because you’ve done it so many times.

There’s this tugging of your heart that almost feels like guilt, but you shove it down and drag your tongue between a set of lips. All too easily, your hands draw patterns across her chest and her thighs, a mastered craft that came mechanically.

Even if it is the right thing to do, it doesn’t feel right.

Your head is swimming with unbearable thoughts of Natasha Romanoff, and you try to erase her on the tongue of another girl who could never compare.

It doesn’t feel right, but it’s the easy way out, and it’s what’s expected of you.

Always has been.

***

“Fuck, Y/N—” is the first thing Natasha hears when she meanders into the bathroom the morning after.

She had wanted to get an early start on the new morning, but alas, fate had it out for her.

For a while, Natasha is surprised that she isn’t surprised. You’ve got a pretty blonde girl on the bathroom counter, one hand up her skirt and the other twisted in her hair.

The girl throws her head back in a bout of pleasure, and Natasha’s thinking that maybe she looks a little familiar. It’s her cheekbones, strung high like a haughty prick. “Daddy’s money always gets what you want, hm?” rings in her head.

A spark of fire burns any ounce of indifference Natasha has to ashes. Sharon Fucking Carter.

Sharon’s painted nails were digging into the expanse of your shoulder blades, and it looked downright painful. Your dexterous fingers were plunging into her sodden cunt, rendering her barely coherent.

It all looks so wrong, and Natasha wants to crawl out of her skin before the jealousy eats her alive.

“Fucking hypocrite, aren’t you?” Natasha spits venomously, hands clenched into fists of fury, making her presence known.

When Sharon jumps away from you like she’s been burned, Natasha can’t help but let evil glee surge through her stomach. Serves you right, she thinks, staring at your dishevelled hair that somehow only made you look more handsome.

It’s different, this time, with your eyes darting as if you were unsure of yourself. (Astonishing, considering your mean streak of being cold as ice.) There’s resentment in the way your face sets, and a type of hurt that causes Natasha to falter.

“Daddy’s little bitch,” Sharon scoffs, fixing her skirt with no attempt to hide her disdain. “Why don’t you fuck off, huh?”

Natasha scoffs, eyes widening in fractional aggression. “I-”

“You should go, Carter,” you say monotonously, almost defeated but wavering on the edge of frustration.

The blonde girl whips her head around to stare at you with incredulousness written in her wide eyes. She lets out a dry laugh of betrayal. “Fuck, look at the two of you. Match made in hell.”

The bathroom door slams shut with a piercing thud. Both you and Natasha don’t flinch.

“You didn’t have to call Sharon a hypocrite,” you mumble, flicking your head back to look in the mirror.

There’s something off about you that no one else has ever had the privilege of seeing. It makes Natasha’s heart soar and her blood boil simultaneously.

“She wasn’t the one I was calling a hypocrite.”

A moment passes between the two of you where you flick an invisible switch.

“I’m the hypocrite, Romanoff?” you ask, evidently provoked. A crazed look in your eyes draws Natasha’s attention, because you’re putting on a false facade all over again.

“Am I the hypocrite for fucking another girl? It’s all I do, isn’t it? That’s what I’m known for. You don’t get to be so butthurt because you were just a one-night.”

A sickly sourness lines your mouth as you spew words that aren’t true, because your heart was fighting every battle to get to Natasha Romanoff.

“What you’re failing to realise,” Natasha begins stately. “Is that this isn’t about me. Fuck it if I’m just another girl on your ever-growing fuck list. Because maybe I am. But you’re lying to yourself if you think you’re happy.”

“Oh, so now you’re determining my emotions for me,” you retort with as much snark as you can muster. “You weren’t acting this high and mighty last night in my bed.”

“Quit the act,” Natasha scoffs, then letting a bittersweet smile cross her face. “You’re hiding behind weak retorts because you’re scared. Scared of being alone. But you don’t have to be anymore.”

Lost, your hands twitch, and you allow yourself to believe that maybe Natasha is your salvation. Defense mechanisms kick in, but you know you’re fighting a losing battle.

“Sorry to disappoint, Romanoff, but don’t try to play therapist. I’m not some kind of victim you’re going to diagnose,” you sneer. “I’m free to do whatever the fuck I want without your judgment.”

“Free?” Natasha asks, an incredulous look in her eyes. She laughs in mockery with an unwavering gaze. “You’re not free. You can’t go a day without fucking a girl. You’re a prisoner, and you’re shackled by your own desires and wants. Except this time, that luxury has become an addictive coping mechanism.”

Dark eyes flash with a glimmer of danger, and you’re so much like a trapped animal gone hostile that Natasha’s heart breaks a little.

“You’re wrong,” you answer, but your hands are shaking so violently that you hardly seem like the person she once thought you were.

Where complete equilibrium once was, a desperate frenzy of unease is what exudes from you now. Natasha feels a twinge in her heart when you whisper “You’re wrong,” again, this time substantially more quiet and resigned.

“Prove it, then,” Natasha challenges, bringing a hand up to cup the side of your face. Her eyes search yours so desperately, and you’ve stripped naked in front of a hundred girls, but you’ve never felt more vulnerable. “Prove that you’re more than whatever they say about you.”

With the strange urge of tears pricking at your eyes, you stare at Natasha with all the hopelessness any broken heart could muster, and for a moment you can see the doubt in her eyes. Like you’ve disappointed her, just like all the girls who’s hearts you’ve broken.

But when you first kissed Natasha Romanoff, it was never going to be just another one-night, was it?

With the final semblance of humanity in your burden-stricken mortality, you drag a shaky thumb along Natasha’s cheekbones like it’s the most delicate thing in the world, and the deeply-rooted self-loathing inside you fades away, just a little bit.

Your parted lips meet Natasha’s in a prologue to an unfinished symphony. You delve in like she’s your last lifeline, and maybe Natasha is, from the way she rests her fingers on your hips with a gentleness you’ve never experienced.

A carnal urge washes over you, because this time you’re not afraid to admit that you want Natasha Romanoff. You spread your hands, feeling up as much of her as you can, running it down her back then squeezing at her rounded ass—

And then Natasha’s pulling away, and only then do you hear the cluster of footsteps approaching the washroom.

“Tonight,” she whispers with a hint of smirk. Natasha goes on her tippy-toes to press a kiss on the tip of your nose, and then she’s gone.

You stand there with wide eyes, in the washroom where students filter in, lingering with the ghost of Natasha Romanoff’s lips and a piece of your heart melted onto the floor.

***

You were positive you were going to start ripping off your skin if you didn’t start fucking Natasha Romanoff in this exact moment.

But that would be a bad idea, because you were in the middle of a psychology lecture, and Professor Harkness probably wouldn’t appreciate that.

After a torturous hour of you shifting in your seat, you sprint out the lecture hall. Thanking the heavens that it was your last lesson of the day, you dodge and weave through the crowd of students in the hallway.

“Hey, Y/N,” A small group of sophomore girls call out, checking you out like a piece of meat. Normally, their flirtatious winks and little skirts would have you folded in an instant, but you couldn’t wait a moment longer.

You send them a polite smile and continue on your hasteful journey, missing the comical way their faces fall.

Upon your dutiful research, you knew where Natasha’s dorm was located, but you planned to stop by your own dorm to pick up a little something. (Okay, maybe the something wasn’t that little.) You yank open your door with purpose—

Only to find Natasha already sprawled out on your dorm bed, dressed in one of your shirts and nothing else. You almost pass out. Almost.

“Nat,” you groan, locking the door behind you. “You’re gonna kill me.”

“Not before I come, I’m afraid,” Natasha sighs with a pleased smile. She beckons you over with a come-hither motion, spreading her legs in invitation.

You bite back an affected noise in the back of your throat, pushing Natasha back down on to the bed with fervour. With a crushing sense of urgency, you slide your hand between her pretty thighs, not waiting a single moment.

“Slow down,” Natasha instructs, tilting your head up to stare at her blown pupils. “Take your time. Don’t just fuck me. Do it like you mean it.”

Upon hearing those words, a rush of pride washes over you and then you’re so eager to please, desperate to somehow prove yourself.

Your fingers find the hem of her shirt and tug it over her head, revealing the bare mounds that are Natasha’s tits. A shaky exhale leaves your lips as your fingertips experimentally brush over her hardened buds.

“God, you’re built,” Natasha moans, running her hands over the edges and curves of your muscle. It’s tight and taut under her touch, so defined and carved.

You shudder under her explorative touch, returning your attention back to the beautiful girl in front of you.

You were so used to hot, fast, explosive sex that turning back time was such a jarring awakening of everything that you were missing out on.

It put things into perspective, that you had never actually made love. And since this was your first time, you were determined to do it right, especially for Natasha.

You trail open-mouthed kisses down her sternum and stomach, savouring the taste of her skin. Your hands grasp at her tits, enjoying the feel of it in your hands.

You’re experiencing things you never got to experience, like the rise and fall of Natasha’s pale chest, the way her eyelids flutter gently.

Temporarily avoiding where she needed you most, you hear Natasha let out a whine. You tease her hole with your tongue, smearing her slick messily.

“Fuck,” Natasha curses, winding her fingers into your hair. “Please, I need it,” she whines, as you lick at her clit.

“M’kay, baby,” you mumble against her wet folds, because you could never deny Natasha of anything, could you?

You slide your tongue in her twitching pussy, and begin one of the most passionate love-making sessions

You listen out for when Natasha hitches her breath, when her hips stutter, when she mewls out. You learn the instrument of her body, understand and test out the different reactions you can draw out.

After minutes of what seem like pure bliss with erratic breaths and pleading keening, you speed up and the reaction is immaculate.

“Y/N,” Natasha cries, as your tongue goes in and out of her dripping cunt. Her slick goes down her thighs and your chin, making the most obscene noises.

It’s wet and squelching, and you proceed to devour Natasha’s pussy for everything it’s worth.

For a millisecond, Natasha wonders if anyone has ever died from being eaten out too passionately. Erotic Oral Overdrive, maybe.

Her first orgasm comes in a gradual crescendo, her hips rocking in waves as you dutifully match her unwinding.

Natasha lets her eyes flutter shut as the moment overwhelms her senses. Until the silence is finally broken by you.

“Got a little something for you,” you say with a quirked brow, sliding your hand into the bedside cabinet to retrieve that little something.

“Oh, fuck,” Natasha whines, upon seeing the biggest strap-on toy she’s ever had her eyes upon in her life.

You ease in the cock with no amount of trouble, through Natasha’s already slick cunt. You start with a gentle pace, because you’re trying to be slow.

Apparently, Natasha has different plans this time around.

“Harder,” Natasha growls, digging her nails into your muscled back. You let out a low gasp, because you’re already so deep inside her divine pussy, and you didn’t think you could go any deeper.

Gripping her thighs and spreading it as far apart as you can, you thrust impossibly deeper and your hips slap against Natasha’s.

Her eyes roll back, and she arches off the bed as you continue to thrust and make a nest for yourself inside her.

“Y/N, ungh– please, fuck—” Curled toes wrap around your back as she writhes against the bed.

With the way your cock bulges against her skin, you’re quite sure you could actually split Natasha in half. She’s clawing at your back, calling out your name to the ceiling.

When you pull out, Natasha whines, velvet walls clenching tighter around to keep you deep inside. But then you thrust all the way in again and a scream rings around your dorm room.

You don’t give a flying fuck about the noise level as you pound into Natasha, splitting open her pretty little pussy. “So fucking tight and wet,” you moan into her ear. “All for me, baby?”

It’s fucking possesive, the way you manhandle her to look at her rolled-back eyes and slack jaw.

“Mhm– yes! Oh God, yes, please, Y/N!” Natasha shrieks, clenching so tight you swear you can feel her wet pulse through the huge strap-on.

But it isn’t just any strap-on, and Natasha realises this with a breathy gasp, because it’s a squirting strap-on, and then you’re unloading into her ruined cunt with a deep growl.

Natasha wails, legs in the air, as you pump your seed into her pussy. It’s thick and flows out in pumps, and she milks your cock dry.

“Good girl, Nat,” you breathe, rocking in slow motions so she can recover from her high.

Finally, you collapse on top of Natasha as she lets out a breathy laugh. “What happened to not fucking the same girl twice?”

“You’re infuriating,” you grunt, rolling your hips once in retaliation. You delight the small victory of Natasha whimpering under you.

Natasha rolls her eyes at your impertinence, leaning up to press a small kiss on your forehead. “Infuriating? More like irresistible.”

It’s your turn to laugh, grasping her hips and pulling her impossibly closer. “You’re right,” you whisper truthfully. You think you could stay like this forever.

“Stay if you dare,” Natasha whispers, letting her hand trace over the curvature of your angled face. As you lay above her, you turn your head so that your lips brush against her palm.

Your warm lips are so delicate that Natasha could almost weep, and that’s all the response she needs before breathing a gentle sigh, hence letting sleep drift her consciousness away.

For the first night amongst many, a quiet calm settles in your dorm room ‘til the sun rises again.

***

Don’t fall for the player.

Once upon a time, that used to be a warning, circulating within the hallways of Avengers Institution, whispered under hushed breaths and divine lips.

Tried and true, was the rumour that every single girl in this school would eventually fall victim to The Player’s effortless charisma and unstoppable magnetism.

And this might be true, because whenever you strolled the hallways or scored a touchdown, you were bound to have admirers cheering your name or flirty winks thrown in your way — However, there was a catalyst. A change, if you would.

Boys looked on in jealousy, girls looked on in intrigue. (Or maybe jealousy, too.) What used to be a smooth mouth and wandering hands became a delicate kind of control, saved for only one particular student.

Gone was your blatant charisma and swagger in treating other girls, because now there was only one on your mind — Natasha Romanoff. Be it in on the bleachers, in the hallways, or during dorm parties, never were you seen without the girl who always got what she wanted.

And that included the very subject of the mantra that defined Avengers Institution:

Don’t fall for the player.

so... this was one full month of work. i've never been this dedicated to a singular project. wow. uh, please reblog. it's the only true way of supporting your little creators on this app, so help me out here. thanks for reading. out of curiosity, which part did you like the most?

kinktober masterlist || main masterlist

[bbsmuts]

Midas's Gift ft. Kiss of Life Natty

A/N: This was a request from @dav1233555. No kinky shit here, just a nice, wholesome smut, if such a thing exists. Just as a note, our main character is supposed to be a high-up executive in a successful engineering/engineering company. I don't know how that works, I'm a lawyer. At the request of the pitcher, we'll call him Y/N when we need to, which isn't something I usually do but not a problem. Enjoy!

-상훈

Length: 5.47k

No TWs today you kinky little bastards 😁

Ok, I lied, maybe some light choking/spanking.

Tags: Wholesome-ish, light choking, light spanking, throatfuck

It was a warm, bright kind of morning; the sunlight shone through the gold-colored curtains in Natty's room, making them look a pleasant, shimmery amber, with a beam of it falling over my back. Faint sounds of other apartment residents could be heard from every side I groaned languidly and rolled over onto my back, the warmth streaming through the window felt nice.

To my right, Natty gave a sleepy moan and turned on her side to face me, her arm sliding across my chest. She pulled herself closer to me, and her other hand took hold of my arm, slowly caressing my bicep.

"Good morning oppa," she murmured drowsily in an adorably high-pitched morning voice, hugging me from the side. I opened one eye and smiled at her cute face gazing back at me.

"Sleep well, babe?" I asked, shutting my eye again.

"The best." She yawned. "I was so tired after last night..."

"Yeah, me too." I put my arm around her slim form and pulled her closer. "What time is it?"

I heard the sound of the sheets rustling and then her voice.

"9 am, just about."

I yawned and kept my eyes shut. "Shit, I have to go soon."

She snuggled in close to me, resting her head on my pec. "But not yet." She was quiet for a moment. "Your morning voice is so sexy oppa..."

I chuckled, slowly stroking her hair. "So's yours."

She gave soft purrs at my stroking. "Really?"

I turned onto my side to face her, smiling. "Really."

She giggled and buried her face in my chest. "Oppa I love you."

"Love you too, baby." I planted a kiss on her head, and I could feel her smile against me. My hand dipped lower, slithering down her back and caressing her supple ass cheeks, massaging a quiet moan from her.

"Mmm, you like that baby?"

"Ohh yes...yes I do..."

I pulled her on top of me and she opened her legs, her pussy pressing on me, releasing a rush of blood to my cock and stirring it from its rest. I pulled her head down and kissed her lovingly, and then she pushed herself up and started slowly grinding her hips on me, letting out soft whimpers.

Natty's breath was shaky and her voice needy as she bent down, moaning in my ear.

"O-oppa...I need you..."

"Fuck, baby, I need you too."

I grabbed her hips, guiding my tip to her entrance, and pushed into her slowly. She and I moaned in unison, the sound's volume increasing the deeper I went. I bottomed out after come considerable resistance, and she pushed herself up on my pecs, starting to ride me. Her arms trembled slightly as she moaned, gyrating and bouncing her hips on me and driving me in and out of her. I times thrusts with her bouncing, ramming my cock deeper inside her.

"F-fuck, you're so big oppa! Ohh my god yes, harder!"

My eyebrows contracted as her pussy tightened around me, her walls squeezing and pleasuring me. "Ugh, you're tight babe, so fucking tight, god!" I groaned through gritted teeth. I pulled her close to me and rolled over, lifting her legs into the air and fucking her pussy vigorously, making her moan louder.

"Oh, oh fuck yes, harder, please!" She yelled. "Fucking pound me, that's it, YES!"

I reached around her thighs and squeezed her tits roughly, drawing more cries from her. She moaned out mindless nonsense, incomprehensibly begging for more.

"Fuck, it's so good oppa! So fucking big in me, I'm gonna cum!"

I knew that, and I also knew my own peak was approaching. I gritted my teeth and rammed into her harder, fucking her raw and driving her to her orgasm like a chauffeur in a limo. I hooked her knees over my shoulders and leaned down, keeping up my hard and fast thrusts while whispering in her ear.

"Are you gonna cum for me baby?"

"Yes oppa, I'm so close, don't stop!" She cried into my ear.

I felt her pussy clenching and contracting wildly around me and her shrieks of pleasure increased in volume.

"I'm cumming! Keep fucking me!"

I closed my eyes and kept postponing my hips forward, allowing her cries to envelop my half-vacant brain. I heard her scream and felt a gush of warm juices spray over my abs. Feeling my own pleasure rising to an apex, I buried myself to the hilt inside her and struck gold, also known as her cervix. She gasped at the sudden contact and the deluge of hot seed that was shot deep down her tunnel, triggering her second orgasm. She let out a small "Oh, fuck", not having the breath in her lungs for a loud sound. Then she sucked in a breath and moaned, her voice breaking a bit.

I rolled off her, panting a lot, feeling the blood start to empty from my softening cock. Natty took a minute to recover before speaking.

"That was - fuck, that was amazing."

I turned her head towards mine and kissed her. Then I caught sight of the clock and groaned. "It's 9:15, I really have to get ready and go."

"Aww, okay."

I reluctantly got out of bed and went to the bathroom, washed my face, brushed my teeth, and styled my hair. I got dressed, putting on the suit I had taken off last night after going straight to Natty's place from work. Black blazer and pants, white button-down, blue tie, the obligatory watch, my black shoes, and my favorite lapel pin. Perfection.

I gave Natty one more kiss goodbye, putting all my willpower into resisting the urge her naked body forced on me, then took the elevator down to the ground floor. I got in my car and then drove away, heading towards the office.

After parking my car in the huge building's parking lot, I made my way inside with my briefcase in hand, the usual morning greetings meeting me from all sides.

"Good morning, Mr. L/N."

"Morning, Y/N."

"Looking sharp, Y/N."

Nodding respectfully at all of them, I immediately made a beeline for the coffee bar. "Morning, Min." I said to Minjoon, a coworker and friend of mine, who nodded. I set down my briefcase at the nearest table and filled a cup to the brim, lidded it, and left, heading for the elevator. A short trip later, I arrived on the 15th floor and marched up to the desk of my secretary, who chuckled as I approached, sat down in front of her desk, and set down my briefcase momentarily.

"Busy day for you, I'm afraid, Mr. L/N. Twenty-two calls, what I count to be a few million emails, a stack of paperwork a foot tall, and a very upset client."

I sighed and facepalmed, wishing heartily I could be back with Natty right now. "Jesus Christ, and here I was hoping for an easy day."

She laughed. "Easy day? Good one. The upset client happens to be Mr. Han Jong-min, the manager of a construction site we approved and sponsored, who has found a major issue with the location that was sanctioned for their foundation."

I sat back in the chair and let my head fall back. "Him again? My god, has there been one site we've approved for him that he hasn't deep searched, found a minor problem in, and tried to sue us all for it?"

"I don't believe so, Mr. L/N." Her amused voice said.

I sat back up, exasperated. "What's this major problem he found?"

"I'm not entirely sure of that. You'll have to talk to him."

I sighed again, stood up, and seized my briefcase. "Alright, let me go and placate this penny-pinching bastard. Thanks, Sunhee."

"You're welcome, sir. Have fun."

I snorted as I closed my office door, dropping into my chair with a groan. I could tell today would be quite the stressful day, seeing as I was dealing with that son of a bitch Han Jong-min, who tried to find as many issues as possible with the construction sites I and my associates approved. Almost every single time, they were minor issues that wouldn't affect the buildings being constructed. And every single time, they weren't my fault, they were the inspectors' faults, but it somehow always became my problem.

There was indeed a large stack of paperwork on my desk. A lot of files. I opened and logged into my computer to see an astronomical 267 emails, killing another small part of my brain.

"Jesus fucking Christ, why couldn't today be a chill day..." I opened my Gmail and looked through said emails. Excluding social emails, promotions, and spam, I had 3 legitimate emails to read. One was from a coworker, reminding me about a conference today. Another was from my boss, saying he wanted to talk to me later today, and the other was from Han Jong-min, and just from reading the first few words in the preview I could tell I was in for a hell of a time with him.

...

After sorting out the other two emails, meeting with my boss, participating in the press conference, it was time to sort out the construction site. Unless he had a legitimate issue this time, I was finished fucking around with him.

With a sigh, I picked up my phone and dialed his number. I tapped my fingers on my desk while the line rung, and then he picked up.

"Han Jong-min speaking."

"It's Y/N L/N." I said, trying to remove all the annoyance from my voice. (I think that's how you'd put a full name, I don't know). "I was informed that you wished to speak about a problem on your site?"

"Ah yes, Mr. L/N. My crew have indeed run into a problem while preparing to lay the foundation of the building."

"And what would that be, Mr. Han?"

"There's a large, eroded underground cavity in the southeast corner of the lot, which has now collapsed into a sinkhole, taking one of my men with it!"

I raised my eyebrows. "He's dead?"

"No, he's been hospitalized with a broken arm and a broken hip."

"Well, I'm terribly sorry to hear that." I paused. "Unfortunately, there's very little I can do to help you right now."

"What the hell do you mean, very little? We can't build here!"

"I'm aware of that, Mr. Han. But I'm not in charge of sanctioning new build sites, nor am I allowed to. I suggest you speak with one of my superiors."

He sighed. "Alright. I'm sorry for troubling you again, Y/N."

Mood lightened and exasperation softened, I spoke back. "That's quite alright, not to worry. Good luck, Mr. Han."

"The same to you, Mr. L/N."

I hung up, surprised that we had ended on a good note. I was expecting an argument at the very least. Shrugging, I returned to the stack of paperwork, mentally steeling myself for another few hours of innately mind-murdering busywork.

...

There was a knock at my door about two hours in, and I heard my secretary's voice.

"Mr. L/N?"

"Come in." My voice was a bit hoarse.

She entered the room and walked to my desk, holding a small stack of paper.

"More paperwork, I'm afraid. But not much."

She handed me the papers, which I added to the stack.

"Anything else?" I asked.

"Well, it's getting quite late, Mr. L/N. Would it be possible for me to leave?"

I looked at my watch, and was surprised to see how late it was.

"Damn, is it that time already?" I shook my head in disbelief. "Must have lost track of time. Yes, you can go, I'll be fine here by myself."

She smiled, bowing respectfully and seeing herself out. "Thank you, sir. Have a good night."

"You too, Sunhee."

I smiled myself, her happiness contagious as always. She had been my secretary for a good 8 years, and had not once failed to be of the utmost help when I needed it. So I never missed an opportunity to let her go early, as was the case today.

I finished up the paperwork as quickly as I could, and then had an idea. I picked up my phone once more and dialed Natty's number.

She picked up almost immediately.

"Oppa?"

The sound of her voice after such a long day was like music to my ears.

"Hey, baby." I paused, smiling. "What do you think about dinner together tonight?"

...

I had planned to head straight home to change and get ready, but on my way home I spotted a familiar sign that read "예작쥬얼리" (Yei-Jak Jewelry), and another idea formed in my head.

I parked my car on the side of the street by the shop and stepped out, taking off my sunglasses and walking into the shop. The store's owner, who I knew quite well, was happy to see me back.

"Ah, Mr. L/N. Long time no see."

I chuckled. "Been about three months, hasn't it, Seo-jun?"

"Indeed, about that. What shall it be today, my friend?"

"Hmm..." I looked around at the various options on shelves, in display containers, and inside the glass cabinet in front of me, and decided I'd let him pick. "I'm thinking something gold. Elegant. Robust, but subtle. Maybe inlaid with a stone...something fit for a woman of unrivaled grace and elegance."

"I see." He smiled. "Well, I happen to have a perfect little piece for such a woman...we just got it handmade..." He walked into the back of the shop and brought out a small box, which he opened and took a case out of. It was a velvety, dark blue case with "예작쥬얼리" stamped in gold letters. Upon my opening the box, a light turned on and shone upon an artistic and sophisticated golden necklace, inlaid with a tanzanite pendant, which was surrounded by tiny diamonds.

"Solid 24 carat gold chain with a titanium lobster clasp, one 120 carat kite cut tanzanite stone, and fifteen .25 carat round cut diamonds. All pure and natural materials, hand-crafted in and shipped directly from Florence, Italy."

I nodded approvingly. "Sounds very good. How much?"

"That will be...$1500." He leaned forward. "Don't tell anyone, but it would normally be $1800."

I pulled my wallet out of my jacket pocket, smiling, and took out my card. After he entered the amount, I swiped it and put it back in my wallet. He handed me the box, shutting it, and I stowed my wallet back in the pocket.

"Thanks very much, Seo-jun."

"Anytime, Mr. L/N." He smiled as I saw myself out.

I hopped back in my car and hurried home with the necklace, already beginning to imagine Natty's face when she got it. Just the thought made me happy, and my mind was consumed with thoughts of her as I changed into my best suit.

I fixed my hair, which the wind from my convertible's open roof had messed up, and secured it with gel, touched up the polish on my shoes, straightened my tie, spritzed my favorite cologne on my purse points, and tucked in my pocket square.

Let's do this.

...

I picked Natty up from her apartment at about 6:20 pm, her looking as beautiful as ever. She was wearing a tight black dress that showed just the slightest hint of cleavage and most of her thighs; just enough to leave me wanting more.

I stepped out and took her in my arms, kissing her neck passionately. "Hey, babe." I murmured into her ear, and she buried her face in my jacket, giggling.

"Ooh, you smell good oppa."

I chuckled. "It's Bleu de Chanel. You like it?" (I know I do)

She took a deep inhale before pulling back slightly, smiling up at me. "Yeah, I love that one."

I smiled back, giving her another peck on the lips. "Great, let's go."

I pulled up to the restaurant in my car with the roof down and sunglasses on, despite the fact that it was 6:30 pm and the sun was entirely set.

I stepped out, walked around and helped Natty out, straightened my blazer, and placed my key into the outstretched hand of the valet. He looked fairly excited to drive it, and I smirked at his expression. He stepped into the car and the engine roared at his touch on the pedals.

"Classy ride, sir."

I nodded and chuckled. "Indeed it is. Be careful, it wasn't cheap."

He nodded. "Of course, sir." Then he pulled away, the car's rear headlights blazing. I waited by the

Arm in arm, we walked into the bustling restaurant, the brightly lit sign on the exterior wall shining in my eyes: 중식당

"Reservation for L/N?" I said to the host, who nodded. "Right this way, sir."

We followed him to a small, two-seater table with a white, gold-laced tablecloth and a candle burning low in a fancy golden candlestick. The host nodded at our thanks and then returned to his post. We sat down, and were immediately approached by a waiter.

"Anything to drink, sir? Miss?"

I considered for a moment. "What do you have as far as wine?"

The waiter smiled. "Allow me to get you a menu."

He returned moments later with two meal menus and a small drink menu. Upon opening it, I immediately found my choice: Argiano Brunello di Montalcino, choice from Tuscany.

"The Argiano, please. Yes, the bottle."

"Yes, sir." He bustled off to get the bottle and we were left to each other again.

"So," I said, loosening my tie a bit in the warmth of the building and looking into her eyes, "got any plans for later?"

"Oh, I think I do." She said playfully. "Or should I say...we do."

I smirked. "Funny, I was thinking the same thing."

The waiter came back with the bottle and filled our glasses, leaving it in a bucket of ice.

"A toast?" She suggested, holding up her glass."

"Alright." I sloshed the wine in my glass around and raised it. "Here's to...a long night of pounding you senseless."

She giggled, blushing, and clinked her glass against mine. "Cheers to that, oppa."

We both took a small sip of the fine wine, the fresh initial notes and tart aftertaste making the drink quite the magnificent choice.

"Mm," she said, after setting her glass down. "Good choice, oppa."

"Indeed." I took another small nip of the wine before setting my own glass down and picking up the menu. "Jungsik's choices of entrees are quite nice as well."

The waiter approached once more, this time with a notepad. "Perhaps an appetizer, sir? Miss?"

I reviewed their options, and almost immediately found the choice option.

"The sea urchin bibimbap, please." (Yes, I did look up the menu. You're welcome.)

"Excellent choice, sir. Miss?"

"Kimbap, please."

The waiter nodded. "Yes, miss."

He left with our orders. Surprisingly quickly, in a matter of minutes, he returned with our dishes on a platter, and handed each of them to us respectively. He bowed and left again.

As always, the food was impeccable, and we hadn't even gotten the entrees yet. I was barely paying attention to the food, since my hands were really starting to itch towards the case in my pocket. But I held off on it, knowing I should save it for later.

After a short time, the waiter came back and collected out bowls, ready to take the next order.

I ordered the langoustine (for reference, this is a dish made with Norwegian lobster), and Natty got the duck (self-explanatory). Then we were left alone to our conversation.

The taste of langoustine is incomparable; a juicy, slightly sweet, and a bit creamy fish, it's not quite like anything else, including its Pacific lobster counterparts. The exquisite substance's flavor and juices spread over my tongue, satisfying every receptor cell, quite like Natty's.

Wait, what?

Before I could stop the dirty analogy from blossoming into a fully fledged fantasy, quite the erotic image floated to the surface of my mind. My mind's eye traveled down Natty's naked body, spread eagled on my bed, wet and needy. I dispelled it's fast as I could before I got hard right there in my seat, but I knew that image would become reality soon enough.

"I know what you're thinking about, oppa." Natty said in a playful tone, though it was laced with a faint trace of seduction. "I know that look."

"Oh, do you?" I leaned forward, swallowing my last bite of lobster. I raised my eyebrows and smirked, knowing she was right. "Then tell me."

The flame light from the candle shone and danced on her face and in her eyes, giving them a dark glow as she looked at me. "You're thinking about me." She said in a quiet voice. "Horny, wet, and wanting you really bad. Well guess what, oppa." she continued, inclining her head towards me. "That's me right now."

"Oh really?" My smirk widened. "Better finish up quick then. You get dessert when we get home."

"Looking forward to that, daddy."

We weren't generally a kinky couple, but her words did in fact make my cock twitch a bit. She took care to chew her last bite very slowly; seemingly savoring the taste with relish and puckering her lips a bit with each movement of her jaw. She swallowed very controlledly, giving a small sigh as though of enjoyment, and looked me right in the eye, as though daring me to do something about it, an initiative I was wholeheartedly willing to endorse but unfortunately couldn't, at least not right now.

The waiter came around, seeing that we had finished, and I asked for the bill, which I already knew would be pricey but entirely worth it. I paid the extortionate bill and then we stood to leave. At the door, I decided it was time.

I took the small box out of my pocket while walking behind her. "Natty?"

She turned and looked at me, inclining her head. "Yes?"

"I have something for you."

I opened the box behind my back and then brought it around. She gasped at the sight of it, her hands flying to her mouth. I held it out and open as if I were proposing, and she took it into one hand silently, eyes locked on the pendant and one hand still over her mouth.

"Oppa..." She looked back up at me, eyes wide. "For me?"

I smiled. "Yes, for you."

She was quiet for a short moment and then she sprang towards me and threw her arms around me, beaming and giggling. "Thank you so much oppa! It's beautiful!"

I couldn't help but smile myself at her elation, a sense of happiness filling me as well. She pulled back slightly, absolutely glowing with joy, and then she sprung up on her toes and kissed me, still smiling against my lips. She broke it off and hugged me again, resting her head on my shoulder.

"You're welcome, baby." I said into her ear. "I love you."

"I love you too." Her voice sounded in my ear.

Her eyes were radiant with happiness as she took a step back.

"S-should I put it on?"

"Yes, of course. I didn't get it for nothing, did I?"

She took the necklace out of its case and clasped it around her neck, and the pendant fell and dangled just below her collarbone, making a very nice addition to the black dress.

"How does it look?" She asked, striking a pose.

"Beautiful. You look beautiful."

She beamed once more and hugged me again.

"Let's get on the way, shall we?"

We walked to the car arm-in-arm, and then we started the drive home.

"Oppa," Natty said a minute into the drive, after reverently putting the necklace back in its case. "How much did you pay for this necklace?"

"Uhhhm...let's not get into that." I replied, and we both laughed.

...

I parked my car in my garage and led her inside, and as soon as the door was shut behind me I pushed her against it, and she moaned as I kissed her, hands snaking around her waist and caressing her ass. She slipped her arms around my shoulders and deepened the kiss. I steered the two of us towards the bedroom, shedding my blazer and laying it over the couch as we made our way to the door. Once inside, I loosened my tie while she let her dress slip down over her slender form, revealing the fact that she wasn't wearing a bra or panties. I unbuttoned my shirt and stripped it off, and she bit her lip at the sight. She approached and slowly ran her hands over my bare chest, and I made her gasp as I reached down and rubbed her exposed pussy lightly. Her eyebrows arched and her breathing became heavier, a small moan escaping her at my touch. I unbuttoned my pants and rid myself of them and my boxers, and she knelt without hesitation, putting her hair back out of her face.

"Fuck," I groaned, her warm lips sliding smoothly over my tip. Within seconds, she had reached the base, gagging obscenely and sending ripples of pleasure through me. "God, Natty..."

She popped off me and replaced her mouth with her hand. "Mm, you like that oppa?"

She didn't give me time to answer before diving back in. I grabbed her head and pumped my hips forward, thrusting deeper into her throat. She kept a steady and unwavering gaze on me even as she throated me. She have herself no pauses, no breaks, and no mercy, impaling her throat on my cock. I moaned and pulled her deeper, and her eyes rolled back as she choked.

I pulled out of her throat, not wanting to cum too soon, and lifted her onto her feet. She panted for a moment and then laid across the bed, legs spread enticingly. I jumped on that opportunity, and knelt at the edge of the bed. A yelp escaped her lips as I buried my face between her thighs, tonguing her folds with expert finesse. She clutched my head and tugged at my hair gently, moaning and giving small shivers of pleasure as I licked her. I swiped and pressed on her clit with my tongue and circled her entrance with well-practiced ease.

"Oh, oh fuck oppa, it feels so good!" She cried. "Yes, yes, oh god yes, keep going!"

I pushed two fingers into her pussy and pistons my arm back and forth at a very fast pace, grazing her g-spot and making her moan louder, body trembling slightly as she neared her peak. The combination of sensations was quickly driving her to an orgasm.

"I'm gonna c-cum oppa it's too good!" Her whines of pleasure filled my ears, fueling me to go harder, faster. I pumped my fingers into her powerfully, her hands grasping my head crazily and pulling me further in. "G-gonna cum..."

I curled my fingers up into her g-spot and rubbed roughly, which finally did the trick to make her cum. She bucked her hips into my face as she squirted onto me, a gush of liquid spraying over my face and upper chest while she shrieked in pleasure, her hands clutching at the bedsheets.

She fell limp onto the bed again, breathing quickly and shakily as if she'd just run a marathon. I got up, letting her recover for a moment, and then climbed onto the bed.

"Get up."

She obeyed without hesitation, maneuvering onto her hands and knees in front of me, presenting her pussy to be fucked. I moved forward and slid into her tight, wet pussy with a loud groan.

"Mmmph!" She squealed, letting her head fall down so her ass was in the air. A sweet symphony of pleasure began to rise from her as I started slowly, moving my hips back and forth.

"Mmmh yes, that's - fuck..."

Her body pushed back against me, wanting more, and I grabbed her waist and pushed harder, drilling past the resistance and probing deep spots in her.

"Ah...oh god, oh fuck!"

I snapped my hips forward, drawing a cry from her, and picking up my pace, fucking her faster. My first touch on her hypersensitive clit made her gasp, her legs quivering, and then I resumed my earlier fingering of it, all while pounding her intensely.

"Fuck yes, don't stop! It feels so good oppa!"

I slipped my loose tie off my neck and put it around hers, and she gasped sharply as I tightened it and pulled her head back, bringing her torso up as well.

"Mmh yes choke me, pound me harder!"

Her pussy clenched around me and drew a moan from my own mouth, a throaty sound that only served to voice a fraction of the incredibly pleasurable pressure that was being exerted on every millimeter of my shaft.

"You're so big inside me oppa! So good, fuck! You fill me up so good..."

"Fuck!" I pumped harder, giving the tie a small yank, which made her gasp. I slapped her ass hard, making her yelp, and reached around to finger her clit. The blend of sensations and pleasures was rapidly pushing her closer to her climax. Her legs trembled and quivered with each forceful thrust, and her moans started to get louder. I smacked her ass again, and she pushed her hips back against me, meeting my at the apex of my thrusts. Pushing her shoulders down and making her ass stick up, I raised the angle of my movements to go deeper inside her, bottoming out with each stroke.

"Oh god it's so deep, you're so fucking d-deep in me! I'm gonna cum!"

I grunted with the effort of keeping up the strenuous pace, the pleasure starting to overtake me as well. It built, slowly at first but then at an exponential pace.

"God, you're so tight, fuck!"

"F-fuck, I'm cumming..." Natty moaned, voice trailing off in the orgasmic pleasure of her peak. A moment later, her voice erupted in a fresh wail as she reached it. Her juices splattered over my balls and thighs, the sensation proving to be too much for me too.

I buried myself as far as I could go inside her and exploded, groaning loudly as my cum spewed deep into her womb. She moaned again at the sensation and then collapsed, body shaking. I settled next to her, thinking we'd get a quick rest before cleaning up.

...

A while later, I got up and headed to the bathroom. I went to my bathtub and filled it full of hot water and soap bubbles, then went back to the bed and picked Natty up. She was half asleep, but came to full consciousness once I lifted her. I lowered her into the water slowly, and she whimpered quietly at the feeling of the hot water on her hypersensitive pussy. She relaxed and sighed softly once she was submerged, and then I climbed into the tub with her. I moved her in font of me so her back was against my chest, and she rested her head against it languidly, resting in the warmth.

"Thank you oppa."

I reached my arms around her and pulled her closer, kissing her neck lovingly. She moaned softly, hands caressing my thighs.

"You're so beautiful, baby."

She giggled. "So are you."

I chuckled. "I'm beautiful?"

"No." She tilted her head back and planted a kiss on my jaw. "Sexy."

I smirked. "That's more like it."

We sat there soaking in the water for a while more, enjoying being with each other, until I got out, churning the water around loudly, and drained it. It was pretty hard resisting the temptation of fucking her soapy naked body again, but I knew she was tired out for now and wanted to rest. I hoisted her out of the tub and dried us both off, then sat down on the bed with her. She covered the two of us with a blanket and snuggled close to me, looking adorable with her hair all wet.

"Oppa we should watch a movie."

I nodded. "Good idea."

I grabbed the remote from the bedside table and turned on my TV.

"What do you wanna watch babe?"

"I dunno, something...action."

I smiled. "Oh, I have an idea."

Heading over to Netflix, I put on Extraction (this movie is SO GOOD), and settled in for a solid 2 hours of nonstop gunshots , punches, and stabs.

It was going to be a good night.

A/N: Might not be perfect, but as always I'm busy, so I have to do things as quick as I can. I hope you enjoyed!

[ultralightpoe]

Slim Pickens - Tyler Owens

Authors Note: Not me writing this smut on election day..... anyways enjoy! Cause I have no clue what happened to me.

Word Count: 5080

Warnings: SMUT, stranger tryna get laid and Tyler not having it.

Requests: OPEN

Main Masterlist ~ ~ Halloween 2024 Event

[Thank you for the gif @chrishemsworthsbitch ]

Enjoy!

“Guess I'll end this life alone

I am not dramatic

These are just the thoughts that pass right through me”

-

There was a simple saying that been passed down from generation to generation, and you knew it all too well. 

‘No use crying over spilt milk’. 

Your grandma used to say it whenever you had boy problems back in middle school and your mother took up the saying when you went on to middle school and in both of these stages in your life you hadn’t quite understood what they meant. 

Now, sitting cross legged on Tyler Owens hotel floor as he repeated those very words to you, you knew them all too well. And by the look of his smug smile in your direction as he got ready for the day you knew he knew his words struck a nerve. 

“Now don’t get cranky at me, sweetheart.” He warns, pointing at you as he kicks his boots closer to the bed so he can sit on the end of it to put them on. “I warned you he wouldn’t be worth it last night when you left.”

The ‘he’ in mention was some guy named Jake that you had matched with on Tinder last night, and who you had dumbly agreed to meet up with. It had been a long week of storm chasing and dealing with Tylers crappy music in the truck and you just wanted to relieve some pressure. 

“He quoted shakespeare.” You try to defend only for him to laugh at you. 

“You sleep with every guy that quotes shakespeare?”

“Guys who quote Shakespeare are hotter than guys who haven’t touched a book in their life!” You snap back. “And-”

“It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.” He interrupts, shoving his feet into the boots with a small look in your direction. But you were too focused on staring at the floor from exhaustion. 

“Mkay Yoda.” You sigh and his hands fly up in the air from lack of belief. 

“Seriously?”

“And I mean he was hot.” You continue, falling back to lay on the floor and stare at the ceiling as he finishes with the boots and moves to get his bag together. “Honestly he kind of reminded me of you. But then he had to talk. And he just kept ruining it.”

“How so?”

“He was all ‘You ever seen a jet, Sugar’? And can’t forget ‘There is almost nothing better than the high feeling of flying through the air….almost.’ And it was-” You finish off the sentence with a loud groan as you slap your forehead making him laugh. 

“Did he not know what you do for a living?”

“Oh, you mean chase storms and kill them? No. Why would he? That would involve him asking me a question.” You seethe before Tyler comes into view, standing over you with that smug smile you hated and loved so much. 

“Alright, come on Sugar. It’s time to go.”

“Tyler, I’m gonna die alone.” You groan, closing your eyes before covering your face. He is having none of it though, reaching down to grab at your forearms, hauling you up with an ease that makes your skin flush. His hands are warm on your skin and the way his thumbs circle your flesh has images of your nasty daydreams flashing through your mind. 

“Enough of that mopin’. We got storms to chase and I ain’t got time to tell you that you’re never gonna die alone.” 

“Cause you don’t believe it?”

“No, cause the chances of us dyin’ in a tornado together are far more likely.” He laughs, deep and throaty as he leans down to scoop you up by the waist, taking a second to slap at your back thigh before exiting the hotel. “Cate will also kill us if we’re late again.”

-

“All the douchebags in my phone

Play 'em like a slot machine

If they're winnin', I'm just losin'”

-

“Not to be that guy…” Tyler starts, his voice already filled with annoyance. “But is now the time to be checking your phone?”

His hands were tight on the wheel as the truck raced through the fields, efficiently tracking down the storm that had caught Cate’s eye. And while you normally took the passenger seat next to Tyler after fighting with Boone for it so that Cate could take her own ford with Javi, today she had taken the seat and you were in the back with Boone who was just as upset by losing his special spot next to Tyler. 

It had been a rough day, between realizing one of the cars were completely broken down in the hotel parking lot and Boone nearly breaking his pinkie while trying to fix it. Let’s just say the hood of the truck came down a little too fast. Not only that but you had gotten stuck in the bathroom of your room until Tyler had to come save you in your towel, treating you like you were plague victim number one ever since. 

But the best part of the day so far? The introduction to Scott loservains new team, conning poor victims one at a time. 

“Hey man, I’m tracking our filming.” Boone argues, already offended.

“I’m making sure Javi has the same stats as us.” Cate argues. 

“Not talking to either of you. I’m talking to little miss lovestruck in the back.” 

“Hey!” You snap, immediately closing your phone. “Mind your business Tyler.”

“You’re in my truck. My truck is my business and everyone in the truck is my business.” He snaps back, shrugging his shoulders. “And besides, the more you let those fools win the more you lose.”

“How do you even know I was texting a guy?” 

“Because Sugar, I know you.” He snaps, casting you a quick look from his spot at the wheel before turning back to the road. 

“I think if you focused less on me then you would be able to drive better.” 

“I think if you focused less on the boys in your phone you wouldn’t be bitchin’ and moanin’ at me all the time!” He snaps back making you gasp as Cate and Boone switch their attention back and forth between you both. 

“Should we be worried?” Cate blurts, landing her gaze on you with her eyebrows pinched together in worry. 

“Not unless Tyler can’t learn to mind his own damn business!” 

“I’ll mind my business when you stop makin’ it my business!” 

“FINE!”

“FINE!”

-

“A boy who's jacked and kind

Can't find his ass to save my life”

-

The bar that sat 3 blocks away from the current hotel the team was staying at could only be described as a dingy cowboy bar, and considering you were mad at a certain cowboy this was the perfect place.  Surrounded by dozens of cowboy hats, none of them belonging to ‘Mr. Can’t Mind His Own Business’. 

He currently stood at the other end of the bar, closer to the live band as the dance floor began to fill with line dancers. Even that far away he was still being a pain in your ass with the way he glared across the floor every time you looked over. 

“You two don’t fight a lot. This is weird for you.” Cate chuckles, spinning her bottle of beer on the counter sat in front of you both, hearing the glass ring on the wood of the counter. “It sends the entire vibe of the group off.”

“It’s his fault.” You huff, scratching at the label of your own bottle as you avoided looking in his direction again. “I honestly don’t know where his freakout came from.”

“You don’t?” 

“No!” You huff, slapping your hands on the counter. “We were fine yesterday, I told him about that date with the aviator-”

“Oh that Jake guy. He was kind of cute.”

“Thank you. Anyways-” You take a quick inhale of air before looking at her. “We were fine and then today he was fine when he came to help me out of the bathroom but the second the door to the bathroom opened he got pissy.”

“Do you know why?”

“No, I assumed he had been getting hounded by everyone all day. He must have been stressed.” 

“Hmm.” She hums out, taking a look around the bar as you sit and mope. “I’m sure you both will get over it soon enough.”

“Slim chance. I am gonna ignore him forever now.”  It’s obviously just you being over dramatic but you were angry and embarrassed that he would call you out like that in front of the group. “Besides, if he didn’t want me talking to him about all that boy stuff he should have just told me. I don't know where his boundaries lie unless he sets them.”

“Damn, that’s deep.” She nods before tilting her head. “They should have put you on the shirt.”

“That’s what I said.” 

“And yet they-”

“Excuse me for interrupting ladies…” A new voice joins the group, making you both turn to the figure. A tall man with bruises along his jaw and a scratch right above his eyebrow. A black cowboy hat paired with a black shirt.  A fine specimen if you could say so. “I just saw the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life and I had to come say hello.”

“Well would you be pickin’ here?” Cate smiles. 

“There is no wrong answer.” You hum out, tilting your head like a cat assessing prey. 

“Then can I say both?” 

“Oh, look at that. Even with a map leading to the answer he still managed to mess it up.” You snipe, giving Cate a knowing look as you both grab at your bottles of beer and move to make your exit. 

“Wait wait.” He reaches a hand in front of you to try and stop you from passing. “Not a great start. I know that. So let me just start over, yeah?”

“Oh… I didn’t realize I did do overs.” 

“Then what can I do to be granted one?”

“Is there a problem here?” Leave it to Tyler Owens to enter this scene, giving his best glare as he inserts himself between you both with his back to you so he can glare down the cowboy.

“There is no problem here.” The cowboy smirks, and you are shocked to see just how brave he was. Then it clicks, the bruises and the hat. This was a bull rider. “You got a problem, bud?”

“Oh yeah I have-”

“LET’S DANCE!” You interrupt, sending a glare to Tyler before pulling the bullrider to the floor as Tyler rolls his eyes. 

Before you can make it too far his hand reaches out to grab your elbow with a knowing look, and even when he is mad he still holds your arm with a gentle ease and traces the skin with his thumb. “This isn’t a good idea.” 

“Well that’s interesting…. Cause it’s MY business!” You scoff, pushing his arm back and moving to the dance floor with the stranger. 

-

“Oh, it's slim pickings

If I can't have the one I love

I guess it's you that I'll be kissin'”

-

It was only fair, since there weren’t many options of men you would just lower your standards and have fun with this idiot for the night. 

He had two left feet, and was pressed against you the entire time but not in a hot way, more so a sweaty mess kinda way. And you would have abandoned him already but every time you looked for an escape you saw Tyler and his glare, there was too much at stake here. You could never admit Tyler was right. In YOUR business. 

So you ignored him and turned back to the stranger, just in time for this waste of space to press his lips to yours. It was awkward, the way your noses pressed together and how hard he smashed his lips to yours. There was no rhythm, no preparation or molding together. It was just his lips devouring your face as you tried to lean back. But the further you tried to get away the more he leaned with you. 

When he pulls back he keeps his hands on you with a sharp smile. “Wanna go back to your place?”

There wasn’t many options, and the one option you truly wanted would never happen let alone the fact that you were fighting with him so you would make do with what you had. “Sure, let’s go.”

-

“Just to get my fixings

Since the good ones are deceased or taken

I'll just keep on moanin' and bitchin'”

-

Telling Cate that you were heading out with him was easy, she made you promise to update her that you were okay, which was easy to do.  You managed to avoid any conversation about Tyler in his truck, which was hard because Mr. Bull Rider was dead set on asking about him. 

“What was that guy with white hats problem?” He asked, and you changed the conversation to the music he was playing. Then he tried the “You guys ever date or somethin’?” 

That one was harder to change since your throat got clogged up thinking of the answer. It’s not like you never wanted to date Tyler, in fact he was all you dreamed of. But it wasn’t meant to happen. Tyler wasn’t yours. 

So you simply started giving him directions to the motel like he hadn’t asked. And by the time you made it to the destination you had hoped that the conversation had passed as you unlocked the door. 

“This is it. Home sweet home….. For a little.” You smile, allowing him to look around while you take your shoes off. 

“So you live in a motel?” 

“When it’s tornado season, yes. We travel around but when he find a specific spot we try to stay.”

“You follow tornadoes?”

“Yes, and we chase them. And if there is destruction we try to help out the communities.” You explain, picking up the tornado shirt with Tylers face on it so you can show him then debate it at the last second you drop it down. “It’s fun.”

“I’ll bet.” He nods before allowing himself to sit on your bed. “We doing this?”

“Oh. Straight to the business.” You mumble, a little shocked as he begins unbuttoning the black top. 

“Sorry, did you want to talk or something?” 

“Well no- I just-” You couldn’t tell if you were thankful that the door opened in that second or absolutely furious as Tyler appeared with that fake innocent smile. 

“Hey Sugar,” He starts, letting himself in fully and shutting the door. “I just wanted to come make sure that bathroom door was all taken care of for ya’.” 

“Tyler, is now the time?”

“Oh, please. It’ll only take a minute.” He chuckles, walking past you both to get to the door. “Wouldn’t want you getting stuck in there again.”

“Tyler, what on eart-”

“Hey man, we were kinda in the middle of something here.” Stranger boy snaps out, scooting so he was right on the edge of the bed, his face pinched between confusion and anger. 

“Hey, safety first.” Tyler laughs, the sound fake and bitter as he leans down to check the hinges of the door while you just blink in shock. “Ah I see the problem here.”

“Tyler.” You hiss. 

“Just give me a moment.” He murmurs, working on the hinge of the door while you glare. “Just a minute……”

“Dude.” Stranger boy sighs and you are wound between shock, anger and embarrassment. 

“I can’t believe this is happening,.”

“There she is. Good as new.” Tyler smiles, standing to swing the door. “Look at that. Bet you’re glad I did it.”

“Tyler. Out.” You snap, moving forward to grab parts of his shirt to drag him out the door and slam it on him. “Now where were we?”

But it’s no use, since the door reopens with Tyler giving yet another innocent look. “Oh, sorry to interrupt. I forgot my screwdriver here.” 

“Tyler, grab it and then leave. And leave the key.” The fact that you were even in this moment was so bizarre. 

“Actually, I think I’m gonna get going… but let me write my information for when you get rid of dumbass barbie over here.” Stranger cowboy mutter, grabbing the pad of paper from the desk and writing his stuff down before moving forward to attempt to kiss you but Tyler is there, patting him on the back aggressively with a slight shove. 

“Sorry to see you go bud.” He smiles, a tense and angry smile before throwing an arm around your shoulder. “But we’ll be fine here.”

And you watch the bullrider leave, the door shutting before you whirl on him. 

-

“Jesus, what's a girl to do?

This boy doesn't even know

The difference between "there," "their" and "they are".”

-

“I can murder you.” You seethe, shoving his arm off of you and taking a couple steps away from him. “Matter of fact, what’s stopping me from doing so?”

“I just figured you might want help with the door-”

“Enough with the bullshit Tyler Owens!” You yell, whirling on him with your hands on your hips and a heavy glare. “What on earth were you thinking? After your fit today and that scene I’m starting to think you have lost your damn mind!”

“Hang on now-”

“And what on earth-” You take a moment to snatch up the pillow from the motel bed to swing it at him. “WOULD MAKE YOU INTERUPT-”

“HE WAS TERRIBLE!”

“IT DOESN’T MATTER!” You yell. “Look around for a second Owens! There aren’t many options. The ones that are worth it are already taken, the one that I want would never go for me. I don’t have many options!”

“AND WHEN AM I GONNA BE AN OPTION?!” He yells out, grabbing your wrists before you can hit him with the pillow again. “When do I get the chance to prove myself?”

“Oh stop.” You snap, moving to walk away. “Don’t mess with me about this.”

“Why would I be messing with you? Is it so hard to believe that I want you?” He follows, making sure to keep a hand on you. “Time and time again you rant to me about these men, how they suck and you hate them. And I keep waiting for you to notice me, to give me a chance. Cate tells me that you might just be nervous, or that our time will come but Sugar I don’t think I can survive this much longer.”

“What do you mean?” Your tone is gentle and you’ve given up walking away, choosing to turn to him and allow him a chance to talk. Your heart was thumping through your chest and you were struggling to catch your breath. 

“Sweetheart, from the moment I met you I’ve been stuck. Comin’ in with all that attitude like you owned the world, which if you ask me you do, and you didn’t hesitate to put me in my place.” He continues, moving closer to set his hands on your hips. “And I just kept begging the winds to give me a chance. To give me a single shot with you.”

“Then why wouldn’t you say anything?”

“Why would you give me a chance?” He laughs, pulling you in. “But I need one now. I’m begging you for a chance here.”

And though no words are spoken you both know the answer, especially when you pull him in with your hands on the back of his neck to attach your lips to his. And unlike the kiss in the bar this one felt perfect. 

There was awkwardness. He tilted his head perfectly, pulling you chest to chest as his hat covers both your heads while his lips melt against yours. He takes his time learning the kiss, his hands rubbing up and down your back as you deepen the kiss some more. This is what was meant to be and you both knew it at that moment. 

There is no objection when you begin unbuttoning his flannel, one at a time, never breaking the kiss as you push it off his shoulders and allowing it to fall to the floor before he reaches a hand up to throw the hat closer to the nightstand. He doesn’t waste time after he hears the thump of it landing to reach and lift his undershirt off, throwing it somewhere else as he makes eye contact. 

“Please tell me I ain’t dreamin’ right now.” He whispers out as you begin to undo your own shirt to slip off before leaning up. 

“I can’t tell.” You whisper back, leaning on your tiptoes to attach your lips once more, his arms wrapping around you to undo the back of your bra. 

Normally when a man removes the bra it is thrown away and he doesn’t focus too much on any of it, but Tyler? He kisses around your jaw as he undoes the buckle of it before his kisses move down your neck while he drags the bra down until he can drop it, allowing his hands to roam. The feel of his hands sends shivers throughout you and yet they keep you warm as you try to back him to the bed. 

“You sure?”

“Never been more sure.” You whisper back, undoing his belt as he kicks off his boots. “I want you.”

“I’ve been waiting to hear those words from you.” He grunts out, pulling you closer before falling back onto the bed and dragging you with him. 

-

“Yet he's naked in my room

Missin' all the things he's missin'

God knows that he isn't livin' large”

-

It doesn’t take long for you both to strip, slowly and gently, until you are both bare. He doesn’t waste time kissing you gently before guiding you up the bed until you’re leaning on the pillow you hadn’t dragged away, kissing along jaw as you sigh out in relief. 

He takes his time kissing down your neck, nipping a bit to pull out a breathy moan from your lips before moving further down to kiss and suck at your breasts. He grunts out at the way you wiggle, a breathy giggle passing your lips until a moan passes them the moment his tongue circles one of your nipples. The sound draws his eyes to yours and that sweet lovestruck look falls into one of ferocity, the heated light within them as your lower stomach tightening and your hands rushing to get some contact. 

Once your hands find purchase he abandons your breasts, leaving them cold to the air, as he makes his way further down. Every kiss is followed by a lick, every nip is given a bushel of kisses to make up for it. He works your body until he makes it to your thighs, spreading them open for him to view, sending a shiver across your body. 

“Tyler, please.” You gasp out, that tight feeling in your stomach begging for relief as your thighs beg to shut, but he is having none of it. Keeping them forced open so that he may give your inner thighs the same treatment he had given the rest of your body. 

He gives up his torture with a growl before diving straight in to lick right between your folds. He keeps his hands around your hips to keep you pinned to him when your back arches as you moan out loud. He devours you, licking and sucking over and over with grunts and growls to match your moans. 

He doesn’t relent until your moan hits near scream and your hands grip at the pillow, dragging it to your face to bite into as you reach your peak, entire body shuddering as you moan out. 

He continues until you come down, pulling away to give you the smuggest smile you had ever seen from him, your entire body ablaze as you sit up to reach for him. 

The other kisses were sweet and gentle, this one was two animals claiming each other. And he let you take charge, your speed and your lead. Tasting your own juices as you dragged him back down to lay over you. 

-

“A boy who's nice that breathes

I swear he's nowhere to be seen”

-

He’s quick to flip you both over so that he’s beneath you and you are on top, a wave of panic filling you. 

“Tyler….I’ve never-” You begin, hands landing on his chest as he gazes up at you with the softest eyes you have ever seen from him. 

“If you don’t want to then that’s fine, Sweetheart.” He mutters, reaching over to grab where his hat landed and bringing it to set on your head. “But you might just need a little confidence.” 

And he was right, with the way he was looking at you and the way the hat felt, suddenly you believed you could rule the world. So you lifted yourself a bit, keeping the gaze as you reached down to line yourself up to him, and with a loud moan you sunk yourself down. 

-

“It's slim pickings

If I can't have the one I love

I guess it's you that I'll be kissin'”

-

His grunts were easily replaced by moans as you sunk down, his hands digging into your hips, letting you take a moment to adjust before guiding your hips slowly. You tilt your hips with each guide, struggling to catch the proper rhythm and getting pleasure nonetheless. 

A moan escapes you as he guides you down at the same time he thrusts up and it’s like something clicks as you begin to find your own rhythm. Using your hands on his chest to keep yourself stable as you begin to speed up your movements. 

Tyler gives in, enjoying your new pace, thrusting up into every bounce. Grunting and growling as his nails dig into your hips and he closes his eyes to enjoy the pleasure while you lean down to nip at his chest which makes him groan. “Darlin’...”

And that makes something inside of you burn, a feral moan passing your lips as you speed up, nails digging into his chest before he sits up to kiss you, helping you bounce on his cock with ease. 

“Y-you’re…” He groans. “Fuckin’ perfect.”

His arms wrap around you, and he readjusts so that he was on his knees to thrust into you, pulling you down to meet him. The sound of skin slapping is alluring and your thighs clench to cage him in as you lose your breath and shut your eyes. 

“Tyler.” You whine, nails digging into his back as something in you begins coiling, tighter and tighter until he bites down between your neck and shoulder and it all falls in an instant. All you can see is white as you bite down on your own lip, holding him tight to you as the waves of pleasure subside. 

He continues to thrust before falling under the same spell that had you, keeping his forehead pressed into your collarbone as he spills his cum into you. 

You both fall into the cushion of the bed, shuddering as he pulls out before closing your eyes to catch your breath from that experience. And when he wraps his arms around you it’s far too easy to fall asleep from his warmth surrounding you like a blanket of it’s own.

-

“Just to get my fixings

Since the good ones are deceased or taken

I'll just keep on moanin' and bitchin'”

-

It’s the feeling of him moving that wakes you a couple hours later, when the bed dips as he stands, making you blink in the dark to see what he is doing. Apart of you panics that he might be leaving, and this was just going to be a one night stand until he pulls on his boxers and turns back to come lift you. 

“Why are we awake?” You croak, already feeling cranky at the fact that you had been woken up. 

“I figured you’d want to shower, and this is when I normally do.”

“You shower at 4am?” You scoff, clinging to him as he sets you down so your feet touch the cold bathroom floor. 

“Yeah. I figured out that no one else showers at this time-”

“Because it’s crazy.”

“Well since no one else showers at this time the water is always at its best pressure and warmth.” He explains, reaching in to turn it on. “Then I can get another hour or so of sleep.”

“Oddly genius.” You giggle, laughing when he shucks the boxers off as a pretend strip tease before hauling you into the shower with him. 

-

“Moanin' and bitchin'”

-

He takes his time washing your body, lathering the soap over your body with gentle hands as his eyes traced over you over and over again like he was trying to memorize every inch of you. 

He let you do the same, the only words spoken never went above a whisper so you didn’t break the bubble and shampooed eachother before shutting the water off and using the towel. 

When he swings the door open he makes sure to raise his eyebrows, a look of pride covering his face that makes you scoff. 

“You cannot be serious.”

“I wonder what hot scoundrel fixed that for you…”

“Hmmm. I wish I knew.” You tease, “I might have rewarded him.”

A small growl leaves his lips as he scoops you up and hauls you to the bed once more. 

-

“Since the good ones call their exes wasted

And since the Lord forgot my gay awakenin'

Then I'll just be here in the kitchen

Servin' up some moanin' and bitchin'”

-

You sit on the motel floor as Tyler works around you to get ready for the day, listening to you bitch and moan as he struggles to put his boots on. 

“I’m so sore.” You whine, falling flat on the floor to stare at the ceiling. “Yeah? At least you never have to worry about dying alone.”

“No,” You huff out a laugh. “Now I just have to worry about you killing me.” 

“Never.” He smiles, coming to haul you off the floor just to throw you over his shoulder and head for the door.

-

[dyaz-stories]

say my name and everything just stops || gojo satoru x reader

synopsis: You welcome Gojo back after a mission that lasted longer than expected.

(He fucks you on your desk)

word count: 2.6k

genre: canon compliant, smut

cw: porn with some plot, porn with feelings, vaginal sex, fingering, gojo is a tease, light angst, some fluff too, reader is afab, implied fwb, gojo calls reader sensei but they're both teachers

a/n: just a little thing for fun and practice :) enjoy!

more gojo x reader here

Though the sun is setting outside, you’re still at your desk, dutifully filing paperwork. You’ve dismissed the students a long time ago, of course, but you haven’t left the classroom yet. The door sliding open, though you haven’t heard any footsteps, has you glancing up, on high alert. The worry dissipates right away when you’re met with familiar white hair, a broad grin, and all-black clothing.

“Well, well, sensei,” Gojo Satoru says as he approaches your desk with a nonchalant pace, hands in his pockets, “working late, are we?”

“Gojo,” you reply, eyes back on the paper sheet in front of you. “How was your trip?”

“You know you can just ask Ijichi to do that for you, right?” Gojo continues, now standing in front of your desk. “No need for you to do all that by yourself.”

“Ijichi is busy,” you answer, unperturbed by the way he ignored your question. “You’ve been gone a whole week. Did something go wrong?”

“Aw, sensei,” he coos, “were you worried?”

You put down your pen to look up at him. You’re always worried, obviously. While you’re a teacher at Jujutsu High, the main role you’re expected to fulfill is that of strategist, to better coordinate group actions. You wouldn’t be able to do that without being at least a little paranoid.

It just so happens that you are very paranoid.

Faced with your stare, Gojo’s grin widens.

“Well, I guess they were happy to have me around and they had me fix all the little problems they hadn’t been able to get rid of by themselves,” he tells you with a shrug. “If I didn’t do it, no one was going to, so, might as well get everything taken care of in one go.”

It’s hard not to openly grit your teeth at his words. You’re not thrilled about the way Gojo just gets used and shipped off to wherever the elders deem fit. You and Shoko, on the other hand, are expected to remain caged in the more ‘safe’ properties, all in the name of the greater good. You’re not sure what good it’s doing. You still know better than to say it out loud.

“You stopped by Shoko’s before coming here,” you say. It’s not a question, and his face lights up at it.

“One day, you’re really going to have to tell me how you do that.”

It’s not that hard. A light smell of smoke lingers around him; the last button of his shirt is unbuttoned, likely because of an examination; there’s a pen sticking out of his pocket that you suspect he’s stolen off her desk; and he’s not wearing his usual travel shoes, meaning he changed since coming back to Tokyo, and knowing him, you must have been close to the top of his list of people to see, so you don’t think he went home, so Ichiji must have brought them to him at the lab.

You could easily have been wrong, of course. You just made an educated guess, and it worked out well for you.

“I found something weird out there,” he states matter-of-factly. “Didn’t need any patching up. C’mon, don’t tell me you were worried?”

You roll your eyes and push your chair back to stand up. He should have been back three days ago, and you didn’t hear from him. Not that the way your relationship works means you should have. It explicitly doesn’t.

“We don’t know what kind of curses are out there,” you say. “Anything could happen.”

“Aw,” Gojo says. “But you know I’m the strongest. I can take everything they throw at me.”

He says it with such absolute confidence that you want to believe him blindly, but all your instincts rebel at that idea. You can’t let yourself think he’s invincible. You can’t make your plans based on that idea. There’d be too much to lose if— if—

“With how gloomy you look, it’s hard to think you’re happy to see me,” Gojo pouts. “And here I was, thinking I’d get a warm welcome back…”

You scoff, fighting the smile that wants to break on your face, then make to move past him. You have no intention of actually leaving of course, but you know that—

Of course, the second he thinks you’re getting away from him, he grabs your wrist and twirls you around and into him. His arm wraps around your waist smoothly, presses your chest against his.

“Really? You’re not even a little bit happy?” He says it lightly, but you don’t miss the very light twinge of annoyance in his voice.

You like to think that you are one of the few people that can get a rise out of him.

It goes both way, of course, but now that you’re in his arms, after a week without touching him, anger and fear melt away all too easily, and all you want is him.

You put both of your arms around his neck, and push yourself on your tiptoes to capture his lips. There is a second during which he remains still, as if unsure, no matter how unlike him that would be. It’s like you don’t have him back yet, like there’s a part of him, of his mind, that is still out there with the curses.

But the moment passes, and then he’s kissing you feverishly. He pushes you back until you hit your desk, then helps lift you on top of it. The papers you’ve filled so dutifully fall to the floor, but he doesn’t care and neither do you. His warm tongue meets yours and you feel small moans escaping you, which he swallows hungrily. One of his hands sneaks under your shirt, the other pushes up your long skirt as he lifts up one of your legs, fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh.

You burry your hand in his hair, try to pull him closer to you, because fuck, you’ve missed him, you’ve missed the weight of his body on yours, and you want him, you need him to be as close as possible. He groans inside your mouth, and when your other hand moves down to trace his jaw, his neck, the muscles of his shoulders, before trying to unbutton his shirt, it turns into a full whimper.

Unfortunately, that sound also brings you back to reality, and while your body is an inferno right now, you feel your cheeks heating up even more.

“Wait, wait, Gojo—”

“Satoru,” he almost growls. Now that you’re trying to speak, he presses open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, then down your neck, sucking and biting lightly at the skin.

“Satoru,” you whine, left with no strength nor desire to fight him on that, “we shouldn’t— students could—”

“They’ve gone home,” he dismisses your worries easily. “None of them are going to show up here at this time.”

He’s hooking his fingers in your panties now, trying to slide them down your legs, but you catch his arm first. You’re quite the spectacle, breathless and panting, clothes half off. Even then, there’s that serious light in your eyes that just has him weak in the knees.

“Yaga— Yaga could—”

“If you think about it, that’d be doing him a favor,” Satoru hums. “Would give him some really, really good material, if you ask me.”

He doesn’t add that the material in question is all his, and that he’d never let Yaga catch you in the act, just for that reason. He doesn’t have to, because his answer makes you laugh softly.

You always laugh for him.

“He better not find us,” you warn him, as your grasp on his arm relaxes.

“Hm, that shouldn’t be a problem, as long as a certain someone can keep quiet…”

You roll your eyes, and then you pull him back down against your lips to interrupt his laugh.

He manages to get your panties out of the way, and then pushes a long finger inside you. You’re already so wet for him, he marvels as it slides in easily. He soon follows it with a second one, spreading you open carefully, and that’s when you throw your head back, closing your eyes and pushing your hand against your mouth to muffle your moan.

“So you’ve really missed me, huh?” he can’t help but tease as he chases your mouth. He’d love nothing more than to hear you loud and clear, but he knows you won’t risk it, no matter how empty the school is right now.

Underneath him, your body trembles, and he can’t resist any longer. He pulls his blindfold out of the way, drinking in the most beautiful sight he’s ever beholden. You’re trying your best not to let the pleasure get to you, but even then, you manage to open an eye to look at him, and you’re met with the stunning blue eyes you wish you could see more often. Something softens inside you, and you reach up to touch his cheek.

“Of course I’ve missed you,” you answer.

Shit. He doesn’t know how long he can keep this up. He’s already rock hard and all he’s done is rock against you. He wanted to take his time with you tonight, because all he’s had the past week is the memory of you, and that’s nowhere near enough, but it’s not looking like he will last that long.

“Yeah?” he insists as his thumb finds your clit and he starts rubbing carefully. “Thought about me while I was gone?”

You let out a loud cry, manage to cover your mouth again before another one comes out. Your thighs are trembling around him, and fuck, he’s going to have to fuck you real soon, otherwise he’s just going to burst in his pants without you even touching him, at this point.

“I’ve thought of you,” he tells you as he pulls his fingers out of you to get rid of his pants. “Thought of how good you feel around me, of how good you sound for me, of how pretty you are when you’re bouncing on my cock…”

He guides his cock against your entrance, presses it against you. You buck your hips, unable to stop yourself, but he doesn’t give it to you, not just yet.

“You really want it that bad, don’t you?” he practically purrs.

“Satoru,” you whine, and oh, if you knew what it does to him when you say his name like that… “don’t make me b— Ah!”

Finally satisfied, he sheathes himself fully inside of you, and fuck, it’s all he’s been dreaming of for days now. Next time he swears he’ll come running back to you the second he’s done with the stupid assignment. You reach up for him and he lets you, lets you dig your nails into his shoulder blades as you bury your face in his neck to stifle your moans. His hips set up a lazy pace at first, and you try your best to follow, try to meet him with small movements of your own, before you feel his breath against your ear.

“It’s all good,” he says warmly. “Just let me take care of you, babe. I’ve got you.”

That’s when he picks up the pace, and you’re left to writhe underneath him, whimpering his name desperately against his skin like a prayer, Satoru, Satoru, Satoru!

You come, shaking, around him when he brings his fingers to your clit once more, and he doesn’t lose a second of it. The high-pitched moan that you just can’t hold in, the way your head falls back, how your thighs shake on either side of him, it’s all so perfect. You’re perfect.

He does his best to let you ride your orgasm on his cock, but he comes inside you just a couple seconds later, unable to last longer. He collapses on top of you, and your labored breathing fills the room. Your hand on his back moves gently, tracing circles on the nape of his neck, gently running through his hair.

“If you’re not down for a round two just yet, I recommend you stop that,” he mumbles against you, only to regret it immediately, because you do stop.

“We should— we should take this elsewhere,” you say quietly.

Ah, now that’s more like it.

“I can call Ichiji and we could do that in the back of the car on the way home,” he offers cheerfully as he gets up, putting the blindfold back in place, though not before he can see you grimace in horror at his suggestion.

“Absolutely not,” you say firmly, though once more, he was only teasing. He’d never let Ichiji see you like that. “Although, if you could call someone to come clean up in here, just, uh, just in case…”

Cute.

“Done. Now, about that round two…”

“Else. Where,” you insist, and you don’t fall for his cute pout.

He sighs but takes your hand to help you to your feet, then turns around as he pulls out his phone. He’s about to hit Ichiji’s number when your fingers on his skin almost bring a shiver out of him.

“Shouldn’t this be healing?” you ask, frowning, and he realizes you’re talking about the marks you’ve left on his back.

“Nah, I quite like them, actually,” he grins back. “Don’t you?”

There’s a lot of unsaid things that hang between the two of you. A lot of things that are better left unsaid. Sadly, you’re too smart for your own good, and you know better. You leave them be.

“I was worried for you,” is what do you say.

Satoru’s expression shifts. The grin vanishes, and you can’t see his eyes, so you’re not sure how he’s feeling, not until the corner of his lips lift up in a soft smile.

“Thank you,” he says, voice uncharacteristically low.

Then he turns away from you, and he’s as loud and boisterous as ever when Ichiji answers.

Of course. The strongest can’t let himself grow soft.

You bend down to pick up your papers, rearrange them neatly on the desk, eyes still on him, on the animated way he moves around the room.

You think you’re more grateful than he knows, for him being back here. Not because he’s the strongest, not because no one gets rid of a curse like he can, but because he’s Satoru. It’s probably better that way, though. You’re both too busy for distractions.

With a sigh, you put your papers back on the desk, then start moving towards the exit.

“Aren’t we going?” you ask Satoru right as you’re reaching the door.

You watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallows.

“Hope you wrote all that down, ‘cause I need to get out of here,” he says on the phone, and you hear Ichiji protest, but that doesn’t stop Satoru from hanging up unceremoniously. He follows you in the hallway, shoulders brushing against yours without quite touching.

“Hey, if not in the car, there’s a supply closet on the first floor—”

“No.”

“Yaga’s office is probably—”

“Absolutely not.”

“How about in my bed?” he asks, right against your ear, breath tickling against your skin. Your cheeks heat up.

“…Sure.”

He only savors his victory for a second.

“What about the couch?”

“Don’t push it.”

But he does, and you let him.

How could you not, when you finally have him back?

still trying to get used to writing gojo's character, don't know if i quite have him just yet. i hope you enjoyed this, any feedback you have is welcomed and encouraged! reblogs and comments are what keeps me writing, so please engage with my work to let me know if you'd like to see more~

if you enjoy my writing, you can find more gojo x reader here

[mercy-burning]

Christmas Miracles

Mercy’s Ficmas 2024 | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Spencer aims to comfort you after a rather explosive breakup with your boyfriend during your Christmas party. Category: Fluff Content: Yelling, sad Reader, drunk Penelope (she's my fav, what can I say), a mistletoe kiss, Spencer is a yearner (he is also my fav, what can I say) Word Count: 2.6k

The first day of Ficmas has arrived! I'm starting you off strong with some short 'n sweet fluffy pining goodness <3 (who am I lmao)

------------------

It's not uncommon for the holidays to be a lonely, depressing time for some. It's covered up in ribbons and bows and sparkling lights, but really, under the surface can lie a lot of darkness.

Spencer can see that in you— Not just this holiday season, though it's apparent now more than ever just how unhappy and exhausted you seem. When you're at work day after day, constantly thinking about and putting away criminals, and even then you seem more happy than you do when you're around your significant other, that's when there's a problem. And surely you must know how your friends have noticed... There's no way you couldn't have; It's practically all of your jobs to notice.

Still, you don't say or change anything about it.

He knows it isn't his place, but Spencer wonders why. His heart breaks for you, each and every time the jet touches down and your eyes darken with the realization that you're one step closer to going home. Home should be an escape from work, and not the other way around. Many times he's even offered to go somewhere with you as a distraction, a silent confession that screams, "I know you're not happy, but it doesn't have to be that way. You don't deserve to feel that way. And I'm here for you." Sometimes you agree and tag along, sometimes you don't. Every time, Spencer wishes you could see yourself the same way he and everyone else does.

And more than anything, he wishes that asshole of a man that calls himself your boyfriend would fall off the face of the Earth. In fact, "asshole" is too tame of a word to describe him, and "man" way too kind.

Much is apparent as the muffled argument rings high and dims the twinkling atmosphere of your apartment. The lights on your Christmas tree flicker in and out like they know that something is inherently wrong, like they're dying out and being suffocated by the thick tension.

Spencer's heartbeat flickers right alongside them, his gut twisting as your hurt and angry words cut through, sharp as a knife.

Finally, Derek's voice offers a bit of distraction, though not a very good one. "So, when are you going to swoop in and save the day?"

He winces. "She doesn't want my help. I already do what I can, but... It's best to let her handle it the way she wants to."

"Seriously? She's having a miserable time at her own Christmas party because of that dickwad, and you and I both know damn well that you're the only one who's gonna be able to help her out of it."

This time, your boyfriend raises his voice, cutting you off and making Spencer jump. He looks at the ground and continues the conversation with Morgan to try and distract himself. "I'll do what I can, but I'm not..."

He can't think of the right words, though Morgan seems to get the sentiment; He playfully nudges him with his elbow. "Why not? It's not exactly a big secret that you're in love with her or anything. And besides, we all know you'd treat her a thousand times better than—"

"It doesn't matter, okay? I'm not going do anything like that; I mean, they haven't even technically broken up, anyway, so... No."

Morgan sighs, and JJ offers a thought— how the last thing a woman wants after a fight with a man is another man to swoop in and try to whisk her away, no matter how good his intentions are. Morgan explains in turn that he's not actually suggesting any flat-out advances, and in a matter of minutes, the entire BAU ends up in a discussion weighing Spencer's options.

And then, the musing amongst the group comes to a close, but only at the screeching sound of your voice.

"You know what? Then you can leave!"

There's a collective gasp, a holding of breaths and clutching of champagne glasses in anticipation of the end, which comes crashing in with a resounding and cathartic, "And don't you ever come back! We're through! I never want to see your stupid face ever again!"

The door slams, and an immediate hushed chorus of cheers is not far behind. Morgan firmly pats Spencer's shoulder, as Rossi raises his glass and muses, "It's a Christmas miracle."

The real miracle, Spencer thinks, is you; even as your spirit waltzes back into the living area in pieces. Easily the most bright and beautiful soul he's ever known, it nearly crushes him to know how awful you probably feel in that moment, for something that isn't even your fault. He sympathizes, but more than anything he wants to reassure you that nothing could ever deter his steadfast belief in the simple fact that you are the only miracle one could ever need.

Penelope rushes to your side and embraces you in a warm hug, to which you drop your gaze to your feet.

"I'm sorry... I ruined your night."

"My dear, you've ruined absolutely nothing," Rossi offers gently.

His words elicit a sniffle from you, and then you're turning your head into Penelope's shoulder, hiding your face and slumping full-force into her arms. JJ and Emily rush over and pile on in a group hug, handing their drinks to Hotch. He's stayed verbally neutral over the situation, but Spencer can see the relief and hope resting in his expression as your grief slowly dissipates. A Christmas miracle, indeed, his smile seems to say.

The lights on the tree seem to brighten at the breath of fresh, unwavering life in the atmosphere that feels very much like love. A proper family. A support system. A warmth.

Spencer feels that warmth vibrantly in his fingertips— Even hours later in the cold, out on your balcony as he mindlessly observes the city below, every sharp breath of December air filling his lungs in slow, steady cycles. New snow isn't falling, but the streets are glittering with what's already there, every speeding headlight making the ground dance below him.

He wishes it were more quiet; something about the eerie silence of winter and the unexplainable feeling that somehow it might heal something within himself. Everything is always so loud, even as he closes his eyes to drift off into sleep. There's always some sort of man-made noise going on, whether it be a fan, or traffic outside his window, or even the quiet rustling of Hotch's paperwork on the way home from a case. For once, he thinks, it might be nice to drift off with nothing but the winter wind carrying him to sleep.

For now, though, he settles for car engines and crunching snow and the muffled bellows of joy beyond your patio door.

The joy crescendos for a moment, and Spencer turns his head to catch your glowing silhouette emerging from the door. The warmth he feels only pulses, hotter and brighter than before.

"There you are," you exclaim softly, stepping outside and closing the door. "Aren't you freezing out here?"

"Not really," he muses.

You take stance beside him, crossing your arms and overlooking the streets just as he'd been doing moments before. A soft smile ghosts over your lips, and on a breath out, your shoulders relax. "Great view, huh?"

"It is," Spencer confirms. "It's certainly better than the buildings I get to look at."

The laugh that escapes you in a cloud of visible air is quite possibly the most beautiful sound to him, especially when it's because of something he said. If he could indulge in the pleasure of making you laugh for the rest of his life, he would take the chance in a heartbeat.

"Well, then you're welcome on my balcony any time."

"Thank you," he says, trying not to give himself away as he feels the butterflies creeping their way in. With a nervous smile, he clutches his scarf. "I'll hold you to it. It's a nice balcony."

He kicks himself for that last part, inwardly cursing his inability to filter out the awkward, unnecessary sentences. He could keep talking and make it worse, but he ultimately decides that scrunching his nose in shame and passing it off as being chilled is the better choice. If you notice, you don't let on.

Taking that as a good sign, Spencer tries to relax. He breathes out, and you turn to him. "Are you... having a good time tonight?"

"Of course I am," he answers, perhaps a little too quickly. "I mean, you throw a great party."

You laugh again. This time the sound huffs out of you with a resounding sadness that cracks his heart once more. "It's not anything, really— just some lights, music, and drinks... But thank you anyway."

Before he has time to think better of it, Spencer calls you out by name, quick to defend you. But then he pauses, unsure of what else to say. He doesn't want to bring up your breakup and make you feel worse, but... what else can he do? The only thing that feels right is the need to remind you how inherently good you are.

So, that's what he does.

"You shouldn't sell yourself short. I... We all love you and we're glad to be with you, regardless of how... grand it is. Just being yourself is grand enough. You don't even need the lights or the drinks, or... him. You're better than all of those things combined."

At first you look pained, the mention of your ex-boyfriend exacting immense pressure on a fresh bruise, and Spencer almost regrets it— almost; Your features soften moments later as his words settle in and seem to melt away the pain, revealing a layer of disbelief and confusion. And then, softness.

Your lip trembles as you struggle to speak. "You don't... have to... say that."

"Yes. I do." As firmly as he possibly can while still being gentle, he reaches out and clutches your hands with his own. He hopes that whatever warmth he has immediately draws itself to you and wakes you up. He wills it to comfort you and make you see—make you feel. His fingers are desperate in their pursuit to love you, their grip unwavering and brimming with hope.

When your eyes meet his, he nearly collapses. There's so much love and relief and bewilderment sparkling in them that he suddenly feels the overwhelming urge to get lost in their depths—to explore and study each emotion until he knows every aspect of you. He almost forgets how to speak for a moment, his mouth dry and the concept of what he wants to tell you being clear as day, reflected in your eyes, as the words themselves slowly become less tangible.

All he can manage to say is the simple, unabashed truth. The love he has for you rests perfectly within those three words, anyway. They ring out and linger in the December air, floating softly around you like a feather, until it lands on your nose and wakes you up from your deep, dark reverie, releasing you into the light once again.

"You're utterly remarkable."

You clutch onto his hands like you've just been pulled from a frozen lake, grasping for any semblance of stability, and he's right there to guide you as you draw yourself closer to him. His heart beats loud and fast as you sigh out and smile, tears welling in your glimmering eyes.

"Thank you, Spencer," you breathe out sincerely in a broken whisper.

He smiles back at you, a weight lifting from his chest as he tells you, "Of course." As if it's the most natural thing in the world to express how wonderful you are.

A sudden burst of energy comes sweeping across the balcony as a loud, bellowing voice makes an expression of their own. It's Penelope, giggling and bubbly as ever.

"Hey! You two! It's present time! Get your pretty faces in here pronto!"

She's gone as quickly as she had appeared, leaving the door open a crack as you laugh and drag Spencer by the hand to follow.

He's grateful for the shift in activity, unsure how much longer he could have been out there alone with you before he said something he regretted. Not that he'd been looking for anything theatrical by any means, but in truth, the entire evening feels like it had been a movie, wrapped up in a neat little bow as the two of you cross the threshold into the rolling credits. The rest of his feelings he could deal with tomorrow, but for now, he's satisfied with this conclusion.

You stop as you approach the door, huffing a short laugh.

"What is it?" Spencer asks as you let go of him and turn around, plucking something from the panel of wood. From your delicate finger hangs a bundle of mistletoe. It sways gently in the wind before you clutch it in the palm of your hand.

"I always come out here after a fight... Guess I figured he might try to make it up to me or something... Like I knew he was going to let me down again..."

The words are sad, but your tone drips with amusement, or something close to it. You feel the plant in your hand, looking down at it and then back at Spencer.

His body freezes under your gaze, the implications sending him into a numbing warmth that both pleases and scares him in equal measure.

"You never let me down," you continue, stepping closer and interlocking his hand with yours, the mistletoe trapped in between. "I want to thank you for that."

Your face leans in, and at this point his heart is beating so loudly he can hear it drowning everything else out. He can barely hear himself stutter out, "It's not a problem, really... And I know you just got out of a relationship, so... You don't have to..."

"Yes. I do."

You kiss his cheek, firmly and quickly, and yet you don't fully retreat. Your lips linger near his jawline, and you squeeze his hand and whisper, "Thank you," against his skin.

He can feel the words worming their way into his pores and leaving trickles of static in their wake, spreading through him like lightning. Their sincerity moves him, and drives home your miraculousness with such force that he can't help but tilt his head down and capture the lips that uttered them in a swift, soft kiss of his own.

You press yourself into him effortlessly, a gesture that makes him wish he had the ability to stop time and keep it trapped in the palm of his hand and yours, like the mistletoe. He could spend forever in this moment if he were granted it.

But alas, time cannot be stopped, and neither can Penelope Garcia.

She bangs on the door and yells impatiently again. "Presents!"

You and Spencer break away in a collective laugh. He feels lightheaded and lovesick, every nerve ending alight with your essence.

"Okay, okay!" you yell over your shoulder, removing yourself from him completely this time and taking the mistletoe with you. You shove it in his coat pocket with an adorable scrunch of the nose and shuffle inside.

The moment you're out of sight, pulled back into the party and leaving him alone on the balcony to follow, he finally breathes out. And the slow inevitable smile that break out over his face feels bright enough to light the entire city.

The mistletoe hums vibrantly in his pocket through the rest of the night—his very own tangible reminder of a miracle; That time, for one brief moment, could stand still.

[activesplooger]

I have a special request if you’re up for it

summary: you and Adam have this mutual attraction towards each other, but the main reason you won’t take the first step is because you know how high his sex drive is, which wouldn’t be too much of a problem if you weren’t so vanilla. You liked tenderness, praise, gentle touches, and you just don’t entirely trust him to be very accommodating.

do with this what you will, please and thank you

thanks for the request! this prompt was amaze! <33

sorry it took so long for me to do this its been a hectic week (america core)

hope you like how this turned out :]

__

You and Adam were... complicated, to say the least. Having been friends with Eve, you've heard all about his "inadequacies" in Eden. You thought he was this vile, cocky, arrogant asshole with no redeeming qualities. And then you met, and yeah that's pretty accurate. But, alas, there was an instant attraction.

Eve took you out a few weeks ago to a party hosted by Heaven's elite, a party you'd usually never attend on account of being a lower class angel. So many of Heaven's highest powers were there: seraphims, arch angels, virtues- and the first man himself, Adam. Eve scoffed as he approached, the colossal angel striding up with a cocky grin.

He was beautiful; rugged features, a messy fluff of hair, a nice smile- truly the man. For a moment, you were infatuated... and then he had to open his mouth. The cocky angel bends down to meet face to face with you, "Eve, who's the babe?". Eve rolls her eyes, "No, Adam.". "Fuck do you mean "No"," He says in a mocking voice.

Straightening his posture, he scoffs, his full stature towering over yours. "I mean no, you're not gonna 'cum 'n go' with this one," she asserts sternly. "Cum and go?" he feigns innocence, "I would never-". Before he could finish his sentence, Eve cuts him off, "Adam, I've told her everything about you and us, she's smarter than to get with someone like you". He groans, "Ugh! God dammit! You're such a cock-block Eve!".

Eve's head snaps to the entrance of the party, watching as a tall blonde woman walks in. "Lillith!" she exclaims, beginning to walk in her direction. Shit, was she gonna leave you with this dickhead? You grab her arm and pull her back to you, "Don't you dare leave me-". She smiles softly and chuckles, "C'mon, you're smart enough not to fall for his crap. You can deal with him for a few minutes, I'll be back before you know it!". "But-" you try to protest but she had already strode halfway across the room. Pivoting back towards Adam, your once again met with his smug gaze.

"So," he steps closer to you, "this party blows. I get cock blocked and both my ex-wives show up? Lame.". He grabs you chin and lifts it, "Wanna get out of here?". "What? No!" you respond, a bit offended at the implication. Adam removes his hands off you and holds them up in a gesture of surrender, "Alright, sugartits. Heard you loud and clear. Guess I'm just gonna go and leave you allll alo-". He turns around and pretends to leave, trying to coerce you into leaving with him. "Wait!" you call out. Eve was the really the only other person you knew and she had left and you hate being alone.

He turns on his heels slowly to face you, the ever-present smug look plastered on his face, "Oh? What was that?". You huff and avoid eye contact, "Fine. Let's gooOOOO-". He grabs you by the arm before you an continue and yanks you along as he shoves through the crowd of angels. Usually, this isn't your thing. But, you naively figured you guys would just make out behind the building or something for a bit.

And just like you had thought, Adam takes you out back and presses you against the wall, crashing his lips against yours in a heated kiss. It took you a minute to adjust to his feverent pace, trying to match the same energy that he put into his embraces. His tongue invades your mouth, pushing its way past your lips without permission. Entangling his tongue with yours, soft moans escape your lips.

His hands snake their way under your shirt, kneading your breasts through your bra softly. Okay, this was escalating really fast- As he goes to undo your bra clasp, you pull back and try to pry his arms off you. You chuckle nervously, "Uh let's maybe slow down a bit...". He looks back with his eyebrow quirked up, a confused look on his face,"Huh? What do you mean "too fast"?".

The angel chuckles in a taunting manner, "Wait? What'd you think we were gonna do back here?". "I-I don't know, make out?" you reply. "Look, Babe, I'm looking to screw," he pokes a finger between a hole he made in his hand while wiggling his eyebrows, "I'm not here to share feelings or snuggle. Got it?". He leans in for another kiss but you stop him by pressing the palm of your hand to his lips, "Yeah, I'm gonna pass.".

Adam scoffs and pulls back, crossing his arms over his broad chest arrogantly, "Fine, your loss anyway.". "Bye, Adam," you say with a sigh as you walk away. "Fine, bitch," he mutters.

__

Since that day, you and Adam have had many encounters, each one identical to the last. He'd hit on you, you'd reject him, and he'd act clueless as to why. Although the attraction is surely there, it would never work between the two of you. Adam's high sex drive could never work for your vanilla self, and there's no way in Hell Adam would ease up on fucking for even a day, let alone for the duration of a relationship. Besides, it's not like he's looking for anything serious.

One day, you run into Adam again in the promenade. The two of you get to talking, laughing, flirting - the usual. He makes and advance, and you reject him, just like every other time. But this time, he snaps. The angel throws his hands up in the air, "I don't fucking get it! You always do this shit!". "Heheh, oh Adam I'm just gonna flirt with you and then totally leave you high and dry! Hehe!" he says, mocking your voice. "That's really what you think I'm doing?" you narrow your eyes at him. He scoffs, "Oh be fucking real! You're such a tease!". "A tease? You're just pissed because I don't want to fuck you!"

He looks at you incredulously, "Do you know how insane you sound?!". "Are you serious? Whatever, I'm out," you turn to walk away. He grabs your forearm and effortlessly pulls you back to face him, "Excuse me? Did I say we were fucking done here?". You try to pry your arm away from him, however, it's pointless against his relentless grip, "Let go, Adam.". "No," he states firmly, hand engulfing your arm tightly, "I wanna know why you're rejecting me.".

You exhale sharply and run a hand down your face in exasperation, "Look, you're a nice- well- you're and okay guy, Adam. We have good chemistry it's just...". "It's just what?" he questions roughly. "It's just that your sex drive is so fucking high! I don't want that, I wan't a relationship with love and tenderness-". "That's fucking dumb," he interrupts. "Exactly! We want different things, so let me go!".

Adam's eyes widen, shocked at the thought of you leaving, "What? No! I can be tender! I prommy! C'mon give me a chance.". "Pft," you chuckle, "not falling for that.". "Falling for what? I can be a real fuckin' romantic!".

"Yeah, right," you chuckle, unconvinced by his promises. "Babe," he grabs your smaller hands in his large one, "one date, that's all I ask! And if it doesn't rock your world then you'll never hear from me again.". You hesitate for a moment. Never hearing Adam's nagging sounds great, plus he'd probably take you out somewhere nice... A heavy sigh escapes your lips, "One date. Somewhere nice, bring flowers.".

"You got it, sugartits!"

__

Adam followed up on his promise. He texted you to be ready at 5 tomorrow and wear something nice. You didn't know where he would be taking you, he'd simply state that "its a surprise".

The following day, the clock struck 5 and you immediately heard a knock on the door. Swinging the door open, Adam leaned against the door frame with the biggest bouquet of flowers your've ever seen. "These are for you, obviously," he holds out the extensive amount of flowers to you. Taking them in your hand, you examine the flower choice, "Jonquils and white roses, fitting.". "Oh really I hadn't noticed," he mutters, feigning innocence.

"Uh huh," you eye him up and down, surprised at his formal attire. He ditched the robe, instead, he dawned a white suit with lavender and gold accents akin to his usual robe colors. Though, he still wore his exterminator mask. The angel notices your gaze on him and wiggles his eyebrows, "Like what you see?". "Could be better," you state flatly. He scrunches his eyebrows, an offended look on his face, "Better? How?!". Reaching out, you lift the mask off him, "Much better, now I can actually see you.". He turns his head away bashfully, muttering, "yeah, okay, whatever," under his breath as his face heats up.

__

The two of you arrive at the destination, a beautiful garden-esque restaurant that's completely cleared out. "Woah, this is gorgeous," you state, in awe at the scenery. A cocky grin spreads across Adam's face, "Like it? Being the first man has its perks, I had the whole place cleared out just for us.".

"Its, wow," you walk in further, admiring the set up. The restaurant's walls are covered in vines and flowers, fairy lights hanging from beamed ceiling. A dim glow casts around place, a surprisingly warm atmosphere in the cold outside air. Adam grabs your waist gently and guides you to your table. Roses pave the walkway to your seating, waiters on standby holding wine. Adam pulls your chair out for you to sit, pushing your chair in for you once your sat.

"I have to say, I'm pleasantly surprised at this," you state. "Oh yeah?" he smirks, "told I could be romantic and shit.". You take a sip of your wine and chuckle, "Well, your doing a great job of it so far.". "Oh, yeah?" Adam leans in and whispers in a husky low tone, "how good? Good enough to give me a thank-you-fuck after?".

"Nope," you reply flatly. "God damn it!" he throws his hands up in the air in frustration. You laugh and check the time on your phone, "Look at that, you lasted an hour without bringing up sex! That's your best record.". He scoffs, a soft smile involuntarily spreading across his face, "Yeah whatever, fuckin' prude.". __

You two share a nice dinner, the food was phenomenal and the conversation was pretty good. Getting to know Adam was actually interesting, at least for the parts he would open up about. He pays for the meal and leads you outside, the cool air causing you to shiver. Adam kindly offers his jacket out to you. "Thanks," you grab the jacket and slide it over your shoulders, the oversized fabric offering extra warmth across your body.

You take his hand as you walk through the streets of heaven, the action taking him by surprise for a moment. He regains his composure and intertwines his fingers with yours tightly, pulling you to his side.

The walk back to your place is comfortably quiet, just the two of you enjoying the calm atmosphere. Once you arrive to your place, you stand by the door as you say your goodbyes, "Tonight was really fun, Adam.". You move closer to him, expecting a kiss from him before you part ways.

He avoids eye contact, not responding to you, an uncharacteristically shy demeanor suddenly creeping up. "Adam? Helloo?" you try to get his attention by waving your hands in front of him, yet, you get no response. Exhaling sharply, you grab his face and force him to make eye contact with you, "Are you gonna kiss me or what?!".

"I'm trying but now you've got me all weird and nervous!" he finally says, his face now beet red. "Me?! It's not like we haven't kissed before," you respond defensively. "Not like this! It didn't mean anything before," he trails off, his words getting softer. He sighs, running a hand down his face, "Nobody meant anything before, but you do. And now I'm getting all sappy and gross, can't even fucking kiss you without feeling all anxious and shit! See what you do to me?! I shouldn't have ever-". Reaching up on your tippy toes, you cut him off with a soft kiss. He shuts his eyes and leans into it, wrapping his arms around your waist as he deepens the kiss. His eyebrows knit together, focused on the tender moment before him.

You try to pull back from the kiss to get some air, however, Adam whines and pulls you back in. Chuckling against his lips, your hands run through his soft brown locks of hair. He trails his lips down to your neck where he nuzzles into you, holding you in a firm embrace. "Don't even think about telling people about this," his says, words muffled against your neck.

"'Bout what? You being a big sap?" you tease. "Shut the fuck up," he mutters. "I'm kidding!" you chuckle, lifting his head off your shoulder to see him, "I hope we can do this again sometime.". The angel smiles softly, pulling away from you and standing up straight, "I'll see you soon then. Night.".

"Night."

He walks away from your doorstep, occasionally looking back at you to make sure you got in okay, already planning your next date in his head the whole way home.

The End <3 __

i love this prompt!!! very me core. i know i talk my freaky lil shit on here but im all talk. im very touch averse unless your on my mentally approved list of people that can touch me, and yet my love language is physical touch or something idfk guys anyway im gonna stop rambling

anyWHOOO, Jonquils and white roses have cute lil flower meanings btw :]

Jonquils: rebirth, new beginnings, and hope

White Roses:  loyalty, purity, and innocence

all the things adam was trying to come off as lol

to requester: thanks for the prompt darling! :]

[alwaysanundertone]

Day 20: lap dance | Mattheo Riddle

smut

TW: oral (fem receiving), facesitting

You were drunk. It all started with a silly conversation with your friends. They accused you, once again, of being to shy and a bit boring, only because your favourite activity on a Saturday night wasn’t going to a party, preferring to cuddle up with one of your plushies and a hot drink.

Usually, this wouldn’t affect you. This time, though, you hated how everyone seemed to deem you as the boring one, and you hated how your crush never seemed to consider you. You hated how Mattheo Riddle was always flirting with someone else, how he never looked at you, how he only talked with you when he needed something, like your homework.

So, here you were, on a Friday night in a skimpy skirt and a nearly obscene shirt, showcasing your breasts for everyone to see. It pained you to admit that you were having fun, the alcohol making everything seem so colourful and hazy. You swinged your hips a bit too harshly, your feet tripping in your high heels, ending up in someone’s arms.  

“woah, L/N, what the fuck” You looked up, staring into Mattheo’s eyes, getting a bit lost in them before getting out of your daze.

“Sorry” You whispered. Even in this state, you felt awfully shy in his presence. You made to go away, only for him to grip your arm.

“Hold on, baby. It’s the first time I’m seeing you attending a party, what brings you here?”

You scoffed. “I just wanted to dance, is there a problem?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Woah, so feisty, I kinda like this version of you, you know?”

“Well, I know it might sound shocking, but my main goal isn’t being liked by you, so”

“Drop the attitude, love, I know it’s all a façade, I know you”

The audacity this man had, he never, ever talked to you and now he was sating shit like that; you laughed. “Since when do you know me? Because you barely talk to me”

“But I’m a good observer” You widened your eyes. You didn’t expect this, Mattheo Riddle noticed you? That must have been a joke. “Yeah, baby, I do; I know you’re shy, and that this is not your favourite way to spend a Friday night. Usually, you’d be in the library”

“I’m not shy”

“You are”

“Am not.”

“Prove it, then. I bet you won’t get on stage” You felt the colour drain from your face. “Exactly. It’s okay, love, not everybody is outgoing, and”

“Hold my drink”

Everybody was too drunk to notice you, anyway. You took a tentative step on the little stage, a random guy helping you in the process. All the while, you felt Mattheo’s burning gaze on your skin. It was too late to chicken out any way.

You started moving your hips slowly, catching up to the sultry music that the dj was playing. There was a small crowd under you, suddenly you found yourself enjoying all the attention, but most of all, you enjoyed Mattheo’s attention, you swore you could feel his eyes drinking you in, making you feel way more adventurous. Without giving it much thought, you started unbuttoning the first few buttons of your blouse, showcasing your bralette for everybody to see; you toyed with the fabric: were you really about to stand in your underwear in front of everyone? You kept moving your hips, turning around, your ass following your every movement.

As you were about to toss the fabric away, you felt a strong pair of arms circling your legs, suddenly you were hanging from Mattheo’s shoulder. “What the fuck, put me down!”

“Huh-huh, hush, you’re not about to show what’s mine to this group of… of idiots”

You furrowed your brows, opening your mouth to close it afterwards; was this a sick joke? Why was Mattheo referring to your body as his? You didn’t even know him, you barely talked. When you felt him climbing up a set of stairs, though, you became quite alarmed. “Where are we going?”

He chuckled. “To my room, gorgeous.”

You widened your eyes. “But- but I don’t even know you?”

He scoffed. “Please, you’re always watching me in class, I think you know more about me than Theo does”

Your cheeks reddened. “Fuck off, your ego is suffocating me. Also, my friends will be really worried when they won’t find me”

Suddenly, you were sat on his bed, the velvety duvet pressing on your exposed thighs. “I told Theo to tell them you’re with me.”

You felt really fucking annoyed. “I’m not yours, dickhead, you can’t just grab me like that, do you think I’m a doll to use? I think not”

He stared you down, his gaze so intense you had to avert your eyes. “I have a crush on you”

Your eyes were on his again. “What?”

“And I know you like me too, or you think I’m really funny because you’re always looking at me in class, smiling. Spare me the ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’ talk, because you do.” You hated when people treated you as less, and you felt like a baby, sitting in front of an adult, being scolded. “So, I think-”

You didn’t think. You got up abruptly, his collar in your hands, pressing your lips to his. He melted into your touch as you swept your tongue over his bottom lip, grinning. You suddenly felt a bit courageous, maybe too adventurous. As you pulled out your wand, you did wonder if what you were about to do was worth it, if you would have regret it in the morning, but you only live once, right? And he basically just told you that he had feelings for you, so might as well live a bit. You casted a spell on Mattheo, immobilizing him.

Sat on the bed, he made to reach you but couldn’t. “What-“You put on some music, ignoring him.

Locking eyes with him, you toyed with the last bottom left. “I think you deserve to see the end of the show”

He groaned, and you couldn’t even recognize yourself if you were being honest. You took of your shirt, throwing it in his face, leaving you with your black bralette on, your nipples showing. “Do you like what you’re seeing, baby?”

He smiled up at you. “Yes, gorgeous. I’d like to touch you, though”

You tsked. Moving your hips to the music, you toyed with the hem of your black lace panties that were peeking from your skirt. “Should I take this off?”

He groaned. “You should, baby. Also, I think that you should really come and sit on my face like a good girl. I could make you feel so good, honey”

“I don’t think I should” You dipped down, your face level with his, then turning around and bending down, your ass in his face.

“Fuck, you’re torturing me here. Let me touch you, love, I can make you feel so good”

As much as you wanted to torture him just a bit longer to make up for all the lost time, you found yourself impossibly wet. “I wish I was stronger than this” You took away your spell.

As you straddled his hips, he smiled up at you. “I really prefer it this way” He moved back while swiftly gripping your ass, encouraging you to move over his face, and you obviously did.

With his index finger he pulled your panties to the side, emitting a soft gasp immediately after. “Baby, are you this wet from only kissing me?”

You blushed, trying to hide your face between your hand, failing miserably as he caught them by your wrists. “No hiding, love, I find it so hot” His arms suddenly circled your creamy thighs, his mouth connecting with your clit.

Your eyes crossed, thighs trembling as you reached for the headboard for some type of stability: you found hovering quite difficult, you kept losing your balance. However, you didn’t want to lay all of your weight onto Mattheo’s face.

You looked down, locking gaze with him as he sucked on a particularly sensitive spot, your eyes crossing. One of his finger entered you, and you couldn’t hover anymore, you fell onto his face.

“Fucking finally” He mumbled into your heat.

“Wh- oh fuck- What?”

He stopped sucking on your clit for a bit. “I felt you hovering, and that’s not how it’s done. I want your whole weight on me, fucking suffocate me and I’ll die a happy man”

Your mouth fell open as he resumed devouring you, this time not stopping when your thighs started shaking, nor when you gripped his brown locks between your fingers, he just kept going until you came, screaming his name, grinding down on his face.

You flopped down on the bed next to him, your chest raising and falling rapidly, your body still slightly trembling. He chuckled. “Now, love, how was it?”

You closed your eyes, scoffing. “Shut up, Riddle, you don’t need to boost your ego. Come here” And just like that, you resumed kissing.

tags: @sxmnc @peterparkerspersonalplaything @riaaavm @iamawkwardandshy @eeviee4 @mysterialee @famouscrusadeluminary @el1smells @rishofkf @mooonyxoxo @happymaeday @yourfiendlyneighbourspiderman @whyshouldihaveanam3 @amazing-bobinsky @barnesandmetal @just-here-for-ff @remussbitch @sammyreid

[iamyourdailydoseofbi]

THE WORST GUY TO SHARE A BLUNT WITH. ( HOTD x READER )

AUTHOR NOTE! Thanks for all the love. <3 pairing: Aegon Targaryen x Reader prompt : Aegon is the worst kind of person to smoke with. word count: 1, 298+ words

It wasn't too often that you smoked. You hated the bitter taste of tobacco from cheap cigarettes and standing out in the freezing cold just to be able to smoke. But, when work got on your ass⎯which it often did⎯a soda or a cigarette were better than taking a baseball bat to your boss's and co-worker’s car. 

Helaena’s joking words, “There’s no Netflix in prison” and “What am I going to do if you’re in prison?”, often floated around as well. Like shit were you going to leave Helaena all alone with nobody but Aegon to keep her company whilst you are in prison. That was the only motivation you had. No matter how beautiful it looked in your head to see the remains of your boss’s prized sports car.

Then there was Aegon. A dick at times, but was trying to be what he thought was ‘funny’ and ‘kind’. Of course, the trio of assholes who trailed behind him and were total ‘yes’ men didn’t help. Though, there were moments where he was kind and sweet. Rare, but still moments of the man behind the booze loving part boy mask. 

Then there was Aegon. A dick at times, but was trying to be what he thought was ‘funny’ and ‘kind’. Of course, the trio of assholes who trailed behind him and were total ‘yes’ men didn’t help. Though, there were moments where he was kind and sweet. Rare, but still moments of the man behind the booze loving part boy mask. 

He loved his golden retriever, Sunfyre, in a way that you never thought he could love something. He liked to eat edibles over smoking, though when he did smoke, it was usually for aesthetics or to look attractive to girls. He often threw parties just to get praise for them, as it was the only time that someone would praise him willingly. 

He was also the worst kind of guy to share a blunt with.

Sitting huddled up on the tiny back porch of Helaena’s house, you watch as the rain pours down hard, a cold chill in the air. The world was shit and the urge to just quit your shitty campus job was high. Double shifts. They wanted you to work double shifts on top of your already stressful juggle between work and College, because “Paul doesn’t wanna work Tuesday’s..” But, money was needed to continue with your studies. So you gritted and bore it. 

Blinking away the tears that bubbled in your eyes, you take a long drag of the cigarette, nose wrinkling up at the bitter taste of cheap tobacco on your tongue. Letting out a shaky breath, you truly wanted to quit, to watch the glorious look of panic on their faces as the realization they would have to take on your workload. Bouncing your knee up and down, you put the cigarette down on the ashtray, wiping the tears that brewed in your eyes.

“No, no, no. Stop it. Stop it.” You mumble, wiping your nose clean.

“Stop what? I haven’t even done anything yet!” A familiar voice whines, making you jump.

Turning your head towards him like you were in a horror movie, he was completely and utterly soaking wet, resembling a sad drenched cat. A big pout on his lips and wet puppy dog eyes. He was pathetic, truly and utterly pathetic. Narrowing your eyes at him, you scoot away from him, not wanting to be dragged into his nonsense.

Whatever reason Helaena had kicked out of the house was not your problem. Hearing him let out a whiny huff, you refuse to look at him, knowing his tricks. It was the same old cycle. He’d huff and puff, give you big pouty eyes, and then start talking and talking about whatever things were making him so pouty⎯expecting comfort from you.

“You know..” He stares, making you scowl deeper.

“Nope.” You grunt out bluntly.

“Oh, come on! No one wants to hear me speak, Y/n. I just want to talk, is that so bad?” 

Was he being fucking serious? This was supposed to be your moment. This was supposed to be your little main character moment, the part where the sad music plays and you cry. The audience would weep on your behalf. Then, the rain would stop and all would be well. How dare he try to steal this little moment from you? Doing your best to ignore him, he sits on the step next to you, his soggy clothes leaving a growing puddle on the step. Moving to sit on the step above him, you grab the cigarette from the ashtray, taking the last drag of it before leaving it to die out. 

“I got kicked out of my parent’s house, you know? Dad has Rhaenyra over and Mom’s been all stressed and stuff. She had the maids clean the house and stuff. She had them kick me out too, not wanting me to trigger her and stuff..” He rambles on, “Stupid, right? I was out all day and when I came home to sleep, she refused to let me in! Rhaenyra wasn’t even home at the time!”

"Are you seriously trauma dumping whilst I am smoking my cigarette?" You ask, a deadpan expression on your face. 

"Yes." He nods, an almost proud look on his face. 

"You're a dick." You huff, blowing out the smoke from the now dead cigarette. 

Giving you a big cheeky smile, he snatches the box of cigarettes from the now soaked step of the porch he sat on. Wrinkling your nose up as he holds a soggy cigarette between his teeth, it was revolting, the thought of smoking a soggy cigarette. It was better to not even smoke at that point. But, Aegon had no shame. Truly no shame. He was the kind of guy to shout, “Five second rule!”, before scarfing down a burger that had been dropped on the floor. Or to do the ‘walk of shame’ with a proud smirk and swagger in his step. 

Rolling your eyes hard at his childish antics, he holds his hand out to you, expecting you to hand over your lighter. Throwing the lighter in his face, you knew that it was wrong to do so, it was only encouraging him to stick around. But, it was better than crying your eyes out. He was a pest, but he was a pretty one⎯when he kept his mouth shut. If you had duct tape, you’d take his mouth shut so he couldn’t ruin the moment by speaking. Lighting the soggy cigarette with a big smile, he lets out a drag of it, the cigarette half bent in the middle from the paper being wet. 

“That’s good, personally, I would eat an edible over this, but it will work. Anyways, Mom kicked me out. Then the worst thing happened to me⎯” He rambles on, like nothing had happened.

“What’s happening?” You mumble, staring out into the rain.

“My car broke down, of all times to break down, this was the perfect moment!” He huffs, flicking the ash into the ashtray. 

“Am I dead?” You whisper, a loud crack of thunder booming.

Watching the sky light up from lightning, you shift your eyes onto him, watching him speak. He just talked and talked, unaware of the world around him. Tiny droplets of rain trickling down his forehead, his clothes making a disgusting squelching sound each time he moves around on the porch step. You would think he’d be really pretty like this, if it wasn’t for the fact that he stole your cigarette, bugged your alone time, and was rambling on about the stupidest conversation ever.

“Is this my wake? Am I in hell?” You mumble, wondering what you had done to deserve this fate.

[sleepytoycollection]

Barbie Dream Besties "Brooklyn": A review

Barbie Dream Besties is a newly released doll line by Mattel, and is a spin off of their main Barbie line. Looks wise, they seem to be a spiritual successor to My Scene, Ever After high, and the more recent Barbie Extra/Barbie Extra Minis. Also trying desperately to compete with LOL and Rainbow High.

They are $20 USD each retail.

I was interested in these for three reasons: 1) I liked Ever After High and My Scene. 2) They have much more quality outfits than I tend to see from modern Barbie. 3) @queenofsquids enjoyment of them made me hopeful I'd like them too.

So do I? Let's find out.

I choose the character Brooklyn as I like her face up the best.

Her packaging is the standard plastic clam shell that seems to be all over the doll aisle anymore. I can't say I love it. I miss the cardboard boxes, so much easier to open and so much less plastic.

This box isn't super great aesthetically either. There's a lot going on in the service of nothing.

Which is a shame, because I do really like the actual character art on the box. It's super cute and matches the dolls really well. It would pop even better if the rest of the box was a smidge simpler. Sometimes less is more.

The back of the box.

We get more of this delightful artwork, showing of the full set of characters available at the moment.

We also get a short character bio for Brooklyn. She wants to be a choreographer, loves making dance routines, video editing, and creative writing. Despite her favorite color being listed as pink, she has no pink in her outfit and only one pink accessory.

Here is the box without the cover. This is what I meant when I said the box design was doing a lot for nothing. Over packaging isn't just a problem with Mattel dolls of course, MGA is arguably worse, but it's still frustrating.

Brooklyn herself is very pretty though. I tried very hard to pick one without a wonky face, but the way she's posed makes it very hard to tell.

I think one of her eyes is slightly bigger than the other. It's not enough to bother me at least. That said, so many of these were VERY wonky at the store. I would not buy these online unless you can see the specific doll you're getting. The QC is all over the place.

Here are all the accessories she comes with.

I do appreciate that all her accessories tie into her interests and character. That said, these are hit and miss.

The purse is nice, and does open.

The dog is okay, but I don't really care for these types of doll pets. It looks more like an in-universe toy than what's supposed to be an animal.

I initially liked that the phone and case were separate, until I tried to put the phone in the case and it didn't fit. It will not go in there. If I force it in, it just pops right back out.

It's a shame because I liked the 80's Barbie logo case, but without the phone in it, it looks weird when the doll is holding it.

At least the phone fits into the ring light stand.

May I also say some of these accessories feel really flimsy? The phone and Ipad are VERY thin plastic.

The boom box in hollow and unpainted.

I wish instead of having seven mid accessories we could've had two or three really good ones. Or nixed all of them and given her a stand. The doll herself is nice enough to deserve a stand I think.

Let's look at Brooklyn. She's pretty darn cute. She stands at the standard 11", and has saran hair with tinsel.

Her outfit isn't my favorite though. Mattel stop giving your dolls ugly fur sleeved varsity jackets challenge. This could've been so cute as just a regular varsity jacket.

Despite being ugly, the jacket is made pretty well. Though a button was already falling off mine. That poor QC strikes again.

Though I suppose it's moot as I doubt I'll ever put this jacket back on her ever again.

Now that she's free of that ugly thing, you can see how nice the rest of her outfit is. I didn't realize how much I missed dolls getting to wear neutrals until I saw her plain denim skirt and white tank top.

It's simple, but she's dressed like a real person. Plus, I can easily pair these pieces with a lot of other outfits. Doll wardrobes need pieces like this for mixing and matching.

Body wise she's a bit smaller than Barbie, and her feet are a little bit larger. This body reminds me a lot of the current bodies for the Disney Princess line now that Mattel has it back, though those have larger feet. If I can find the one I have, I'll do a body comparison to those later.

Her sculpt in three views. The Ever After High comparisons are very apt, though the screening itself is more reminiscent of My Scene mixed with a little bit of G3 Monster High.

For comparison, here's an actual EAH doll next to her. Brooklyn's head is just a smidge larger, but balanced out better with larger eyes, thicker brows, and bigger lips.

After this, I got Brooklyn redressed with just a few changes...

I replaced her jacket with this vintage Barbie and the Rockers one, added a necklace, and hey! Now she gets to wear her favorite color.

Final thoughts?

It's a good doll, but the quality control issues, on top of the same BS Mattel throws on all of it's dolls anymore, is dragging it down.

The fact you have to look through every single one of the shelf to make sure you're not getting a crappy one is exhausting. Plus, kids don't do that. They're going to get home with their new doll and then realize as they open it something's wrong. Kids don't deserve that.

The accessories are mostly cheap and not special enough to justify their existence. The purse, phone with case, and ring light would've been enough if they were made a bit better.

The outfit is well made, and a huge improvement over what I see in the main Barbie line, even if I don't like all the design choices, but again, that's if you get one without QC issues.

The doll herself is super cute though, and screw it, I like the tinsel. Fight me.

Overall I really love this doll, I just wish picking one out wasn't a hassle. Hell, I even bought a second one already.

I got inspired enough I wanted to repaint one, so I purposely bought this wonky Renee because she had the worst face up out of everyone at the store.

So I think there's definitely potential here. If this line continues, I hope they can improve the way G3 Monster High has improved from it's first wave.

I hope this can be the start of Mattel revitalizing it's Barbie line as well. It needs it. See ya next time.

[wwaheoh]

maid x master are overrated booo tomato tomato /hj

i want more maid x maid wlw cuz i think they're cute :3

well since we talking about maid here can i request alexandrina x shy fem junior/trainee maid, for short rina teach y/n proper etiquette as they spend time together they start flirting or something like that (y/n working for months so they know each other a bit)

sorry man I can't write good prompt :(

anyways get enough sleep, sleep good you deserve it

"The One in Which You and a Ghost Lady Fall in Love” Alexandrina Sebastiane x gnReader

a/n: decided to do gender neutral rather than female, hope you don’t mind! but feel free to change the pronouns and such in your head!

a/n²: ironically pretty bad at writing a relationship that doesn't end in tragedy

As the newest addition of Victoria Housekeeping, you had to undergo various types of training- as expected. Ranging from household cleaning to taking down Ethereals in a fast and professional manner. Honestly you sorta expected it- even having been warned as you applied for the position about the additional forms of work Victoria Housekeeping did.

Though to be honest, it was pretty fun, being given training and permission to let go and duke it out with enemies whenever the need arose. The problem was the whole ‘interacting with clients’, it was really hard not to tremble or cringe while talking, feeling as though you were embarrassing Mister Lycaon and the rest of Victoria Housekeeping just by existing.

So, you had been given more training in customer relations, with your main teacher being Miss Sebastiane- though she preferred you call her Miss Rina. She was your senior, a woman with a serene gracefulness, kind and gentle- yet not afraid to put pressure on clients who got too handsy or Ethereals that entered the property they were hired to keep. She was so kind, strong, gentle, firm, a smile that made you at ease and inspired you to keep pushing away from the mental barrier of interacting with clients. Beautiful, with soft hair framing her mature face, eyes of ruby that kept you mesmerized…

Then those eyes blinked.

Today Miss Rina had been teaching you how to dance, a semi-often requested service. For when a client didn’t have a partner- either through choice or circumstance, they would call on Victoria Housekeeping to be their partner. It happened more often than one would think.

Yet as she lead you through the steps, you had become transfixed on the older lady, still mirroring her but losing yourself in her. Something she noticed as you lost your usual unsureness, steps becoming more loose rather than the high-strung nervousness you usually exhibited.

Truthfully she was very flattered, where people usually looked at her, it was with either lust or a passing by before turning to the other workers like Lycaon or Ellen. You looked at her with love, heart stolen by her. She had her eye on you for a bit, the cuteness of your bashfulness, how you aimed to do your best- much like Corin, yet fell flat at the more mental problems. You were cute yes, but also strong in your own way, a trait you shared with Corin as well. Always aiming to protect, eyes filled with warmth even when in stressful situations.

As the two of you finished your dance, she dipped you low, holding you steady, gaze looking deep back at you.

Words escaped you, “Would you grant me the honor of going to dinner with you?” You immediately slammed your palms to your mouth- leading you to fall and hit your bum on the ground. Internally you were panicking, doing everything you could to not look at Miss Rina, hoping you didn’t ruin the relationship between the two of you, having overstepped the bounds of the work-place.

Out of your view, she relaxed, sinking down and cupping your chin. Softly directing you to look at her, you followed, puddy in her hands. “Nothing would make me happier.” With her free hand she held you by the arm, pulling you up alongside her as she moved with the serenity of a flowing river. “Tonight at 8?” You nodded, not trusting your words to be able to convey what you wanted. There weren't any words possible to let her know what you felt.

The two of you danced once more, steps in sync.

[chrissv4mp]

im on the bleachers🦈

basketball player!matt × gn!reader

warnings: minor injuries, vulgar language

author's note: okayyy, i know i said this was fluff & the warnings seem otherwise, but i swear there's fluff!!

_____________

matt breathed in deeply, looking at himself in the mirror before muttering, "final game of the season, you got this."

"stay calm." he added on, knowing that every time he was on the court he would get a little crazy.

but it's not like it was his fault, the referees were just blind as hell and didn't even know the difference between pivoting with the ball and traveling.

or maybe it was him. whatever, even if it was he wouldn't dare to admit it.

"hurry up, boys! gotta get you kids out there for some warm-ups," coach yelled, his voice echoing off the walls of the locker room.

matt sighed, closing his eyes and taking one more deep breath before throwing his jersey on.

04, under the number was the name of his school, WESTFIELD HS.

"matt!" chris's voice broke the brunette boy out of his trance, looking over his shoulder before turning around fully to look at his brother.

matt couldn't help crack a smile at the excited expression on his brothers face, his eyes bright and his smile big.

"what's up?" matt said, running a hand through his hair.

chris straightened our his jersey, number 03, before looking back up at matt and speaking, "oh. nothing, just wanted to check up on you, you nervous?"

matt nodded, "yeah, but i'm still hopeful. the other team isn't all that, either, but we still need to be strong. and aggressive."

chris nodded, his facial expression serious now, "yeah. hey, let's go to the team, give them a pep talk?"

_____________

"bring it in wildcats!" matt called, and the team was quick to get together, chris going over to matt's side immediately.

the players looked around at one another, giving knowing looks and muttering quiet encouragements.

"hey, today isn't any different than our other games. we always come to win, and what do we always do?" matt asked, and the team responded proudly:

"win!"

matt smiled, "yes, exactly! we need to play with energy and sportsmanship, no matter how pissed the other team gets you. and above all, we need to play aggressive and fast." chris nodded at his brother, his eyes scanning his other teammates.

"so, we're gonna play all the basics. 2-3, box, etcetera. now, everybody knows that the other team isn't that good, they've lost a majority of their games this season and the main reason for it was them not being on defense."

matt inhaled deeply, "some of us have a bit of a problem with that, too, so, we need to always, and i mean always be on our man. everybody just goes to the ball and leaves the other team open."

a boy on the team nodded, knowing that the comment was mainly directed to him.

"even if we don't win, we're still the wildcats, and we'll always have our confidence. no matter what." matt encouraged, giving soft smiles to his team.

"preach, matt." chris laughed, earning some smiles from his teammates.

matt rolled his eyes before putting his fist out, leading the whole team to do the same thing, "wildcats on three!"

"1, 2, 3, wildcats!" the team roared, voices echoing off the gym walls as they parted ways, some players going on the bench and some going onto the court.

coach smiled at matt, giving him a thumbs up before matt went to jog on the court.

matt's attention was quickly turned to the crowd on the other side of the court, his eyes immediately landing on you.

you waved, giving him a thumbs up with your free hand as he waved back.

chris was in the middle, his eyes never leaving the ball as the referee raised it in the air.

matt went into his defense position, getting low and in front of a player from the opposing team.

the tension was high as the gym fell silent, only the sound of quiet buzzing from the scoreboard heard.

then, the referee put the whistle to his lips, and blew. he dropped the ball, and chris swiftly smacked it behind the opponent and into his teammates hands.

"let's go wildcats!" was heard from the sidelines, and as matts teammate dribbled the ball up court and shot a lay-up, the crowd erupted in roars and screams.

well, this was gonna be an easy win.

_____________

this wasn't gonna be a very easy win.

matt groaned in frustration as the ref called a foul on him. he hadn't even touched his opponent!

the wildcats and sharks were neck and neck, 30-30, the scoreboard read.

the opponents coach had waited until they were losing by a lot to put in his best players, and now the wildcats were on the brink of losing a game.

"shit," matt muttered as number 08 on the other team ran up the court.

he pushed himself to run with all his strength, and as nunber 08 went to score, matt jumped up to try and block the shot.

number 23 on the opposite team pushed matt with all his strength, sending him flying onto the floor face first.

he landed on face, his knees sliding on the freshly waxed gym floors.

a loud roar of anger was heard from the wildcats, and the whistle blew many times before the gym was shut up.

"fuck, fuck, fuck!" matt groaned in pain, holding his nose as he breathed heavily.

nick, taking the pictures of the basketball team for school, quickly raced down the bleachers and to his brothers aid.

chris did, too, worry evident on his face as he patted matts back, "you're okay, matt, c'mon, get up."

nick helped matt to sit on his butt, carefully grabbing his chin and noticing his bloody nose.

"it's fine, you'll be okay. we're gonna get up on three, alright?"

matt nodded, groaning as he stood up on the count of three.

his knees ached and so did his nose. shit, there was no way he was going to be able to have more playing time.

sure, his teammates were good, but matt was the best player on the team.

nick and chris walked matt to the sidelines, letting him sit down on the bench before nick handed him his water bottle.

"you okay?" chris asked, tilting his head a bit.

matt nodded, his head fuzzy with frustration.

the game went on, and number 23 got benched & fouled. 1 more foul for the sharks and the wildcats would get two free throws.

1 more basket and the wildcats would win.

the game was getting heated, and people the opposing team were screaming at their teammates.

it had only taken a few missed shots from the wildcats to get matt stirred up, and he shot up from his seat, walking to coach with a passion.

"put me in." he demanded, and in any other circumstance, he would've crumbled in fear at the way his coach looked at him.

he cocked an eyebrow, "you're hurt, matt, we can't risk it."

matt grumbled, looking down at his feet as he balled his hands into fists. why not put him in? he was the best player, and the others were clearly not locked in. he needed to be in there.

"put matt in!" you and nick chanted from the bleachers, making the coach and matt himself turn their attention.

the chant caught on quickly with the rest of the wildcats, even the players that were on the court, currently on timeout.

matt smiled sweetly at you, and you just cheered for him, your heart melting at the way he looked at you.

the brunette boy turned back to his coach, not daring to break eye contact again. he took deep breaths, trying to control himself as he asked once more:

"can you put me in, coach? please." he asked, and this time, coach didn't hesitate to nod.

the people controlling the scoreboard wasted no time in subbing out a worse player for matt, and the brunette boy ran onto the court, determined to win.

the game started back up again quickly, and matt was quick to steal the ball when 06 on sharks were passing the ball in.

he ran down the court, his legs burning and his throat dry. the crowd cheered loudly, and so did his teammates.

even over all the other voices, the only one he listened to was yours, you were the only one he cared about.

he jumped up, the ball rolling off his hand and going up into the air.

matt drowned everybody out, his breathing heavy and his legs tired. the ball spun around the rim not once, not twice, but three times before it fell into the basket and dropped to the floor.

matts eyes widened, and he could finally hear everything. cheers erupted from the wildcats and the coach for the sharks threw his clipboard down.

"holy shit. oh my god!" matt yelled, the realization that he had won the game finally hitting him.

you didn't hesitate to scramble off the bleachers and onto the court, wanting to be the first one to speak to him.

you jumped into his arms, almost sending him falling to the floor, but he steadied himself and wrapped his arms around you tightly.

"you won, baby! im so proud of you." you muttered into his shoulder, and he smiled.

"thank you." he whispered.

_____________

matt and you sat at a booth in a local diner, drinking celebratory milkshakes.

you couldn't help but smile as he drank it, putting the cup to his lips before putting it back down, leaving whipped cream on his upper lip.

"what?" he questioned before licking his lips, and you couldn't help but laugh softly.

"nothing. just wanted to look at you. you literally just won the state championships, can i not be proud of you?"

matt smiled softly, hiding his face as he blushed.

"couldn't have done it without my favorite person." he praised, reaching his hand out to yours that was on the table.

...

☆

author's note: AHHH the support on my hcs are insane, I love u guys sm!! hope u guys enjoyed this and also, thank u smsmsmsm for 40+ followers🫶🏼🫶🏼

@chrissturnswife @latinasforchrizz @suyqa @mayhem-72 @sturn-wrld @mattsbbg